Armorum Fidei Chapter 40
Justini rode her Paragon suit into battle with a righteous cry upon her lips. Every step carried her into the face of horror but she was not afraid, she walked in the Emperor's light and no darkness could touch her. In her wake rolled a wave of fanatical Zealots, the purified souls of Currens Ecclesia, those who had been saved from Psybrid domination or witnessed the miracle first hand. Those whose faith proved weak had been purged, leaving only the most ardent believers. They eagerly chased her down the ramp, fired by the conviction of revelation.
Justini saw a rolling mass of flesh charging to meet them, aliens of staggering variety and form. Claws twitching, fangs gleaming they came to crush this upstart defiance and they had the numbers to do it. They braved the streaming fire of Currens Ecclesia's guns, wading through torrents of tracers and explosions. Justini knew they outnumbered her fellows a hundred to one and yet her response was a clear command, "Hold: sisters let them taste the fires of purgation!"
The crowd slowed as Sisters of Battle armed with flamers and multi-meltas stepped forwards. They presented a line of blackened nozzles, waiting for the foe to close. The range shrank as the aliens surged forward, only to be met by a rolling wave of fire. Thrice-blessed Promethium gushed over the front ranks, setting alight hundreds of Xenos. Flesh sloughed from bones as nerves fried and enemies fell to the dirt, psychic domination not enough to match the Holy flames. Those Xenos tough enough to endure, Borlac and Nephilim mostly, were picked off by Multi-meltas, their toughened hides no match for anti-tank ordnance. A burning wall described a protective sweep before Currens Ecclesia and none could pass.
"Spread out and present weapons!" Justini ordered. In response the crowd moved, touching the ground for the first time and creating a wall of guns. They were sloppy and slow compared to a true military unit but they made up for it with eager zeal, every soul ready to give his life for the God-Emperor. Justini drew in a breath but paused for an instant, waiting for the flames to die down. In moments the wall faltered, fuel exhausted and the Xenos horde pressed in, only to be met by a curt "Volley fire!"
As one a thousand guns spoke, autorifles, bolters, stubbers and lasrifles giving vent to their fury. The Xenos pressing through the dying flames were obliterated, caught in a solid wall of shot. Winged beings and tentacles fiends alike fell, brought low by the stern condemnation of the faithful. Those aliens who dared to try to flank the humans were decimated by gunners from on high, raining down shots from the battlements while booming artillery lobbed shells further into the horde. The aliens were smote most cruelly, given no reprieve from their sentence. Then the Quake cannon fired again and a distant explosion signalled the horde had been reduced by a significant margin.
Justini's ears were ringing, but she had been protected by her warsuit's autosenses. Others had not been so lucky, their ears left bleeding by the quake cannon firing right over their heads. Still the pain was nothing compared to their love for their god, so they stood firm, firing continuously. Justini saw her Celestians standing proud, Praxi, Heleyna and Resita, meeting the foe with disdain. They too had witnessed the miracle and were determined to prove their devotion in the fires of battle.
The Xenos horde wavered before the thunderous barrages of withering fire and Justini dared to imagine that their will was breaking, but then one stepped forward from the mass. A tall and imperious being, with back-jointed legs and a cowled head. A Psybrid, in all its disgusting vileness. It carried a spiked stave in two hands and yet it lifted one to point at Justini, a clear challenge. The horde paused and stepped back as the Xenos hissed some evil cry. Despite the impossibility of understanding Justini recognised a challenge to single combat, a custom that transcended race and species and one she was willing to accept.
"Hold!" Justini called as she stepped forward, "In His name I shall dispose of this one with my own hand!" Distant firing signalled the fight was continuing elsewhere but at Currens Ecclesia a pause occurred as two leaders of their races met to duel. The Paragon suit carried her towards the waiting Psybrid, as her power axe steamed and her Heavy Flamer dripped. She closed quickly, eager to engage but as she did so her eyes itched and a hissing whisper arose in her ears. She knew this, she knew what they were attempting. The Psybrid was trying to dominate her mind, a treacherous betrayal of the honour of the duel, not that she expected any less. She met this low trick with scorn, her heart burning with love for the God-Emperor. Faith was her armour, making her soul proof against the blandishment of the Xenos, they would not take her again.
With the iron-will of the truly devoted she charged the Psybrid, swinging her axe about horizontally. The Psybrid seemed stunned its trick had failed and nearly died, but at the last second leapt back, allowing the axe to pass a hairsbreadth from its hearts. Justini snarled in anger and gave chase, swinging her axe over and over, leaving fiery trails in the air with each stroke. The Psybrid dodged every attack, moving like liquid lightning, always managing to be where her axe was not. Then it reversed direction and attacked.
The spiked mace-head clanged off her thigh armour, leaving many spikes in the metal. She thought herself invulnerable for a moment but then the Psybrid ducked behind her and the long talon on its other end cleaved the back of her left calf. The Paragon suit lurched as delicate internal mechanisms were sundered, gyros shattering and fluid-links severed. A Paragon suit was hard enough to steer at the best of times but now she flailed about, trying to regain her balance.
The Psybrid saw her distress and darted in, hefting its stave to plunge into her hearts but she hastily double-blinked and the bolters beside her head discharged. The Psybrid threw itself aside at the last moment but took a pair of hits to the shoulder, spraying gore far and wide. It staggered as ooze ran down its arm, wounded but not dead. Justini seized the moment to right herself and snarled, "One hit each, you have met your match."
The Psybrid lifted a claw and the itching behind her eyeballs doubled as chittering whispers made her ears ache. Yet in her mind she recited the Seven hundred and seventy-seven virtues of the God-Emperor, a litany drilled into every novitiate in the Chantry-barracks. Steeled by devotion her heart remained immune to Psybrid subjugation, there were no doubts in her soul to exploit, no cracks in her armour of faith. She feared the Xenos not.
"You really do only have that one trick," Justini laughed in scorn. The denial seemed to anger the Psybrid at last and it gathered itself for one almighty pounce. Legs tensed and then it was flying towards her, talon gleaming with deadly power. Justini stood her ground and met it in the air, not with her axe but with her Heavy Flamer. The blunt nozzles caught the Xenos midleap and hoisted it aloft, thrashing about as it realised what was to come. Justini lifted it high for all to see, then triggered her weapon and doused it in burning Promethium.
A blazing corona of searing heat enveloped her arm, coating the nozzles black as they squirted flames sideways. Drips of burning Promethium fell upon her head, scorching the armour but her Ceramite withstood the conflagration, unlike the Psybrid. The alien screamed like swine as it roasted alive, burnt head to toe by an inferno. Limbs melted, dropping the stave to the ground and its head deformed, collapsing in on itself. Extremities burnt away, revealing a small and pathetic creature within, but it died a heartbeat later, screaming all the while.
Justini held the flaming mass of charred offal aloft like an athlete of proto-history holding a ceremonial torch. The Psybrid army looked on in silence for a moment, then they suddenly withdrew. Like a tide retreating from the shore they moved away, giving no sign that they intended to continue this fight. With cold disdain they turned and strode away, leaving the crispy corpse of their leader to be dropped into the mud like an unwanted rind of fat. Artillery shells chased them but there could be no doubt the Psybrids were leaving, and fast.
"They flee!" Resita cried, "Quickly, we must finish them off!"
"After them!" Justini cried.
But a stern voice cut through, "Stay your fury, this is no time for hasty mistakes."
Justini turned and saw a wall of blue Ceramite closing, Space Marines riding vehicles to cut off their pursuit. They were led by a warrior in the new model power armour, his plate scored and battered. Thye had been fighting on the other side of the army, Justini realised, closing a vice around the Psybrids. Her execution of the Xenos played a part, but she was humble enough to recognise the twin threats probably had more to do with the Psybrid's retreat.
Justini limped about to face him and barked, "The God-Emperor demands all Xenos be exterminated! But you would give them time to regroup?!"
"Better that than run headlong into a meatgrinder. They fall back in good order, covering each other and coordinating an effective withdrawal. Your artillery provides cover, but the moment you step outside their range you will be diced like offal."
"Who are you to question His will?!"
"I am Captain Raynek of the Sixth, and I know battle better than you ever will. Take your triumph and move on, unless you intend to snatch defeat from the jaws of victory."
Justini relented and said, "Spread the faithful out, terminate any living Xenos you find."
"My Marines will secure the battlefield, but Captain Toran is on the vox, he wants a word with you."
Justini spied a gaggle of figures approaching from the crippled Train-city, walking over the fields of dead aliens. Three Marines and a gathering of normal men. It took several minutes for them to close and Justini had the rare privilege of looking down at Space Marines from the confines of her suit. The familiar sight of Captain Toran appeared battered and worn, his once majestic red cloak tattered shreds of rags, but his bearing proud as ever. The other two wore black and skull-helms, the Chaplains from their previous encounter. They walked far apart and seemed oddly subdued. There was a mystery there, but not one she had time to explore.
Toran pulled up before her and called, "Well met in battle, noble Sister. That was a worthy kill, you bring honour to the Adepta Sororitas."
"Hail, Angel of Death," Justini replied formally, "I trust your killing was equally fine?"
"We were reaping a fearful tally, but I am not above admitting our situation looked dire. Without your intervention we would have been hard-pressed indeed."
Justini demurred, "We were heading towards our target and saw a chance to strike a blow too good to pass up."
That caused glances amongst them and Toran asked, "A target, you have an objective?"
Justini nodded, causing her bolters to whine up and down, "Aye, orbital surveillance has revealed the Psybrids build a structure a thousand leagues from here. I was planning to knock it down."
"You have orbital surveillance?" Toran pressed, "This construct, is it a fortress, a comms-tower or a spaceport?"
"Unknown, but it's big enough to see from space. I think the Psybrids would be aggrieved to lose it."
Raynek piped up, "That sounds like a tempting target."
"Indeed," Toran concurred, "Give us time to make repairs and we shall join you."
"We wait for no man," Justini hissed, "You can catch up."
Toran however stepped nearer and said, "I see no Canoness' emblems on your plate, I assume you are in command by merit of being alive, when she is not?"
"That... is safe to assume," Justini admitted.
"Then let an old commander share a word of wisdom with a new one: never refuse aid from those who would stand alongside you in battle. The Psybrids will not sit idle as you close on their construct, by the time you arrive you can expect every single body they have stolen to be ringing that thing. We will need every gun we can muster to win, more than we have here. We need to rally more support to our cause and strike a decisive blow, united as one."
Justini was lost in such broad strategic thinking but wasn't going to argue tactics with a Space Marine and mumbled, "I suppose it makes sense."
"Good, then we are allies in this endeavour," Toran proclaimed.
However before any further words could be exchanged a mortal man in rich robes looked up and called, "Wait, I must know, how did you do it? You stood against the Far Strangers in open battle, no wards, no talismans. No mere man has ever done such a thing. How did you produce such a wonder?"
Justini looked upon the fearful men and women and proclaimed, "It is by the God-Emperor's grace we stand inviolate. Your people falter because they cling to false idols and petty trinkets. Look not to the works of your own hands but give yourselves to Him without question. Only through pure faith shall ye be saved from the Xenos!"
The people looked at each other in puzzlement and then suddenly started ripping off their talismans. Cheap trinkets and charms were dumped in the mud as they pressed forward, asking to hear more of this God-Emperor, begging to be told more of the one who could shield them from the Psybrids. Justini was taken back by how quickly they embraced her words but saw then that their culture had spent two millennia waiting for this moment, two thousand years of fear waiting to find a release. They had witnessed the Sister's immunity with their own eyes and pleaded to be allowed to share in it, every one of them desperate for His protection. It seemed the Ecclesiarchy's work was not done yet.
Thus a brief pause was called as the faithful swelled in number, adding tens of thousands of fresh converts to their army. From this spark would swell a tide that would sweep all of Suna, passing from lip to lip as word of the miracle of Turhen spread. So, the Sisters turned their attention to welcoming new converts, leaving Newek's smoking corpse to collapse into charred dust.
