Armorum Fidei Chapter 34

Currens Ecclesia rocked with the clamour of battle as fights broke out within. Without warning or explanation Friars, adepts and Sisters drew weapons and turned upon their fellows. Their confused victims had no hint that anything was wrong, until they found guns and knives bearing down on them. Blood flowed in the sacred Templums as Mendicant priests were garrotted by choir boys, Tech-Priests were shoved under grinding gears by their acolytes and Sisters were shot in the back by those they had fought beside for years. Violence was in the air, it was everywhere and those who remained uncorrupted had no choice save to take up arms and fight back.

Staggering down a passageway Justini heard it all but understood none. Her head was filled with a clouding fog and her heart was a lump of stone in her chest. The revelation of her birth had shaken her to the core, then Phantea's death had slammed shut any prospect of digging out the truth. Almost she reached for her ring but her hand stayed low, it had been a false icon all along, a taunting mockery of her dreams. It meant nothing, it never had. Justinis's world had fallen out from under her, she had no firm base left to stand on and her spirit collapsed in on itself in despair.

"For Frak's sake," Praxi spat beside her, "Move your laggard feet!"

"She's in shock," Resita barked.

"And I'd love to give her a year of silent mediation in the Convent to recover, but it's not going to happen! We're surrounded by death, if she can't fight we're done for!"

The hard words penetrated Justini's reeling head. Years of combat training and rigorous indoctrination had ingrained reflex actions into her psyche that were now brought to the fore. Her confusion was shoved aside as immediate concerns pressed in. Survival instincts honed in countless battlefields forced her to take in her surroundings. For the first time she saw that the Celestians were lurking in a low access way, sounds of distant fighting rang down the passage and they were all carrying their weapons as if expecting an ambush any second. Lexia however wasn't standing alert, she was slumped against a wall, her Triptych leaning on her shoulder. She looked ready to keel over any second and Justini was amazed Lexia still stood.

She felt like a servitor, moving without any agency but mechanically she asked, "Lexia, are you hale?"

"I…" Lexia breathed, "I can manage."

Praxi urged, "We need to find a medicae and fast."

"We need to find a way out," Resita hissed.

"I don't know if she can last long enough," Praxi argued.

Lexia however stirred and said, "I'll live, it's more important to get out."

Praxi didn't sound convinced as she countered, "Are you sure?"

"Don't worry about me," Lexia demurred, "I shall walk with His grace."

Justini shook her head and said, "We can't linger, we'll have to risk the garage, there must be one Rhino fit to drive. Did… did anyone think to grab my helm?"

Praxi's blunt faceplate shook as she said, "Sorry we were in a rush. I grabbed Phantea's sword though. I know you're not a swordswoman, but it's better than nothing."

Justini was reluctant to touch the Canoness' bade but her tactical training overrode any squeamishness and she took the proffered sword. It felt point-heavy and off-balance to her grip but with a power sword one hardly needed to be elegant. With matters settled they gathered together and set off, Lexia stumbling behind. They headed towards the rear of Currens Ecclesia, towards the garage. The risk they were taking was extreme, any of the sisters within might be an enemy but there was no other option. Getting out of Currens Ecclesia was their only hope.

They turned a corner and spied a row of dormitories, bare cells where lesser Friars dwelled. It was cold and dark and unlovely. It was also a battlefield. In a furious scrum men fought each other tooth and nail, hacking and stabbing with whatever weapons they had to hand. Fury and rage were in every face, some inhuman in their alien induced frenzy, others the all too human reaction of men fighting for their lives. The Sisters faced wading through a heated battle, but there was no other way around.

"Get ready," Praxi snarled as she racked her Storm Bolter.

Resita cocked her Stalker as she asked, "Anyone know how we tell the difference between friend and foe?"

Heleyna braced her mace and shield as she growled, "Anyone who tries to kill you is an enemy."

Justini lifted her purloined sword and then as one the Sisters advanced. Instantly a mob of enraged men turned to attack, blinded by rage or Psybrid command, it made no difference the Sisters were forced to meet them regardless. Resita braced her bolter and fired off three quick shots, taking three men down in sprays of exploding flesh. Heleyna stepped forwards then and slammed her shield into the leader, knocking him down, her power armoured boot slammed down and crushed his hip, leaving him shrieking on the ground to be trampled by his fellows. Another came at her and was folded over by a macehead in the guts, the next man had his jaw shattered by an uppercut and the next was thrown aside by a lateral blow that sent him skidding into a wall.

The attack was blunted but not thwarted, for a pair of men came at Justini. One had a heavy brass candlestick in one hand, the other a pair of sharpened knives. Justini had no way to tell where their allegiances lay, traitor or merely misguided, but she had to fight anyway. She hefted the unfamiliar weight of the sword and swung for the man with the knives. Her arm was unaccustomed to such weight and the point pulled her blow to the right, missing the man by a hair. Justini had seen Phantea perform dazzling displays of skill with this sword but she was not on the Canoness' level, swordplay had never been her forte.

The man swayed back but Justini was pulled off balance and left open to a blow from the candlestick holder. He went high, aiming for her unarmoured head, and she was forced to lurch sideways, letting the impact ring off her pauldron. Justini's bones rang with the blow but her temper flared, breaking through her lethargy at last. Survival instinct bit hard and she growled, "Ah Frak it."

Driven by anger she abandoned any pretence of skill at arms and stepped bodily into the man. Armoured bulk smashed him backwards, making him stagger drunkenly and then Justini ran him through. There was no elegance to the blow, no refined skill, she just plunged her sword into his guts and let blood and entrails spill out. A thin scream arose as the iron-tang of blood filled her nostrils and the man collapsed, desperately trying to stuff intestines back inside. The other man had rallied and tried to stab her in the flank but was brought up short by Justini's fist ramming into his nose. He dropped his blades and grabbed his nose, crying in pain. Justini cut his agony short by swinging her sword at head height. The energised edge caught him in the neck and sliced through with ease, parting skull from shoulder and his hands too. Blood fountained over Justini's front as he toppled forwards, dead before he hit the deck.

Justini gave them no mind as she looked up for her next foe, only to hear the hammering of a Storm Bolter. Praxi had stepped to the fore and unleashed her weapon. The juddering bolter roared as it spat fat bolts in a torrent, filling the corridor with flaming contrails of rocket exhaust. In such narrow confines mass-reactives were deadly, even misses ricochetting off walls to sink into bodies. Men blew apart, painting the walls with viscera as Praxi emptied her magazine in a frenzy of explosive death. Justini slapped her gauntlets to her ears and squealed in pain, without her helm the noise of bolter fire was agonisingly loud, making her ears ring with tinnitus. She had never grasped how much autosenses compensated and the raw noise battered her eardrums like they would burst.

Finally Praxi's weapon ran dry and she stepped back, but there were none left to confront them. The dormitory was a grizzly tableau of carnage, eviscerated corpses and shorn limbs laying everywhere. A butcher's nightmare of visceral horror, but the Sisters were firm in their conviction that there had been no other possible outcome.

Praxi reloaded as she spat, "Damnation, they didn't give me any other choice."

"What?!" Justini spat as she slapped her ears to break the ringing noises.

"God-Emperor accept the souls of those who died for your cause," Resita intoned.

Heleyna muttered, "We can't linger."

Justini's ears were clearing and she waited for the final member of their team to speak, but there was only silence. She turned in puzzlement only for her jaw to drop as she spied Lexia. The Sister was slumped in a corner, legs coated in blood and Triptych laying forgotten on the floor. There was no signs of life, her helm slumped into the gorget and arms inert. Justini hurried to check her vitals by holding a gauntlet under the respirator, but there was no mist of exhaust, Lexia had stopped breathing already. She was dead.

"She's gone," Justini groaned.

"I didn't see her get hit," Praxi gasped.

Heleyna growled, "Look at that gut wound. Phantea's last strike was a fatal one; it just took her a while to bleed out. A miracle Lexia could walk at all, must have been swimming in pain balms from her autodispensary."

Justini wanted to punch Heleyna right then but knew grief affected them all differently. Time to mourn would come later, for now all she could say was, "Farewell Lexia, you were loyal to the end and died pure and uncorrupted. The God-Emperor will know your noble deeds outweighed your sins and He will embrace you in the afterlife. May you walk in paradise forevermore."

"So say we all," the others intoned.

Justini stood up and nodded onwards. There was nothing more to be said so they set off, leaving their fallen comrade behind. Justini knew she would cry later, but for now had to be hard and unforgiving. Danger loomed and they had yet to face the worst of it. The four survivors ran down a ramp and found themselves entering the garage, only to walk into another battle. Squads of Sisters were grappling with each other, exchanging bolter fire and hacking in furious melee. Some wore armour but many more did not, and scores of dead Sororitas lay cold upon the floor, killed in the first minute of the fight.

Justini was aghast at the treachery she beheld, she hadn't believed so many of her kindred had been corrupted, but then spied slinking forms creeping across the roof. Aliens, those strange lizards, stalking the battle and firing into the crowds below. There was no time to plan, no moment to gather their wits for a salvo of bolt rounds came out of nowhere and showered them in explosions.

Justini took a hit to the flank and was sent staggering. She instinctively dove behind a Rhino, only to realise the others had evaded in another direction. She was alone. Cursing to her herself she crept to the far end of the transport, gripping her sword tight. She heard heavy boots ringing loud and braced to strike, waiting for the moment to attack. A shadow loomed and then a Sister stepped around the corner, bolter raised and ready to fire. If Justini had hesitated then she would have died, but her arm was already swinging. Her sword swept down and caught a shoulder, cleaving through Ceramite to end up in the Sister's heart.

The other froze, jerking randomly for a moment then fell backwards, taking the sword with her. Justini's inexperience with a sword meant her grip was flawed and she could not stop the weapon from being yanked from her hands, leaving her weaponless. She cursed loudly and reached for the hilt but was sent back by a shot from afar, that nearly took her hand off. Justini jerked backwards and turned to run, dashing back the way she had come. She hoped to find her comrades but they were nowhere to be seen, sent scurrying by the ferocious melee.

Alone and unarmed Justini pulled a knife from her belt, a standard combat blade but it was all she had. She crept around another Rhino and inched back into the battle, seeing the fight rage. Everywhere screams and shouts of anger echoed, backed by bolter fire and hissing power weapons. Madness and death were everywhere, friend killing friend and loyal comrades at each other's throats. Justini could make no sense of it, could not tell loyal souls from subverted. All she could do was back up and pray to find her squadmates. It was then she sensed movement above.

Her head rose and she found herself staring into black eyes, a lizard-creature hanging from the roof and looking right at her. She opened her mouth to scream but too late for the gun riding its back was pointed right at her and it fired with a wet pop. Something struck her chest and sheer terror rang in her heart as she realised what it was. Her hands darted to try and grab it but the thing was too fast for her merely human reflexes. The Wyrm uncoiled with lightning speed and then it leapt for her face. Justini barely had time to process that fact before its head slammed into her teeth, driving her jaws apart and then it squirmed into her mouth, forcing its bulk down her throat.

Justini hacked and coughed for a moment then her eyes widened and she fell to her knees, hands wrapped around her throat. It was too late; the Wyrm was already burrowing into her nervous system, crushing her mind into nothingness. Justini could not even scream in terror as the voices of a million aliens unfolded inside her head, demanding obedience in all things and smothering all traces of individuality. The Song took her and Justini's essence drowned under its weight, her soul claimed by cruel and uncaring alien masters.