The Imperial capitol of Haikk One, Melstram, is wracked with protests targeting the Sisters of Battle, most of them besieged in the Mission of Saint Roque.
When it seems they are facing the storm alone, a single message makes it clear nothing is that simple.
XXXXXX
Meanwhile, Roger and the Leopards try to get to the bottom of this sudden upheaval among the loyal citizens. The main culprit is quickly identified, but facing the true rabble-rouser will certainly be a lot harder than finding them...
Sister Palatine Beatriz had never seen anything like it, despite her half century of service in the Adepta Sororitas. What had been a morning of holy prayer and preparation had come to a screeching halt as her fellow Sisters guarding the walls of the mission. She peered through an embrasure large enough to fit a Bolter and accurately aim it and frowned at what loomed below.
"When did they arrive?" she asked in the Esperanz dialect specific to all of the Order of Sacred Avis.
"Ten minutes ago," one of the helmeted Sisters said quietly. "No sooner had the Churches let out their parishioners than they arrived."
"Do you believe there is a correlation?"
"Yes, Sister Palatine. Yesterday, Sisters Irina, Serafina and I met Famulous Xena, the one tutoring young Senhor Mylice, at the Cathedral of the Sacred Light. We quickly realized we were not welcome, and that was the warning. I believe this was the result."
The Palatines frown turned to a grimace as she looked to the thousand or so angry Imperial citizens below. Some held signs, others held knives, pitchforks, or other weapons.
"Any demands?"
"That we leave and never return. Or else."
"Damn them and their arrogance," she said flatly. "Ready the Seraphim, inform the Sister Superiors, arm the Novitiates, I am declaring the Mission of Saint Roque under siege."
One of the Sisters that guarded the walls stepped forward.
"Palatine, may I speak?"
"Yes, Sister Iara."
"These people were kind to us until a few days ago. Something has whipped them into a fervor against us suddenly, and the fault is not theirs."
"Iara, I appreciate your feelings of sympathy, but that crowd has fallen under a spell that wishes to force us out. But I will say, they only seem threatening and show no outward hostility."
"I just ask we wait."
Beatriz thought the request over for a few moments. It was one thing to strike down those who had turned against members of the Ecclesiarchy, but these were simple folk with few actual weapons, and the fact that instead of launching an attack they merely gathered for a visible mob made it seem less like a battle than a simple, if ludicrous, request.
"Xoana, inform the others of my declaration, but strictly hold fire orders in effect. If we are not fired or struck at, we will not slaughter this misled flock. And do it quietly. The bells of the Mission will be silent and stay so until the end of this crisis."
"Yes, Palatine."
The robed Sororitas moved away to the living quarters, a few blonde-haired comrades already leaving towards the armory. She only had one hundred Sororitas under her command, not a small or insignificant force, but only thirty of those were combat trained and veterans, forty fresh Novitiates who had only begun their training, and the rest for whatever duties were needed to maintain the mission and its garrison. Against a crowd of thousands, they could hold, but if the local garrisons did not come to help, or worse, join the mob…
"Watch them, Sisters. Ensure the crowd stays there and does not attempt to batter down our doors."
"Yes Palatine," the three said.
As she moved off the wall and into the plaza, she was greeted by a Hospitaller.
"We have plenty of medical supplies, Palatine, but we can only hold for so long."
"Estimate?"
"A week, with standard combat. Maybe a few days less."
"Food?"
"A week as well, but that is surely not to last, even with rationing. As you know, our refrigeration unit is damaged."
"Damnable Techpriests pushing us to the bottom of their worklists. And I know for a fact our Bolter ammo would only last a few days."
The Hospitaller stared at her through eyes firm from battle but concerned at their chances.
"I know," Palatine said with disappointment. "And we have no communications with the rest of our Order."
"The Emperor must be testing us," Sister-Superior Eliana said, wielding a Heavy-Bolter. "Surely we must have wronged somehow."
"We should not begin to determine our failures in faith yet. Let us prove that we are worthy of His name, His service, and that we shall-"
A dull thud near the group stopped the Palatines' zeal, all turning to see what had caused the noise. Sticking from the grass that covered the plaza was a single arrow.
"Heretics!" Eliana roared, about to rush to the walls and open fire on the crowd below.
"Stop!" the Hospitaller yelled. "There is something wrapped around it, and this planet is at a civilized level. They have no need for such crude weapons."
The Palatine plucked the arrow from the ground and felt the parchment wrapped around the shaft. It was tied to it by a small string, which was pulled undone and made the parchment almost unroll itself. The three looked to see what was written, and to their surprise, it was not a threat or demand from the crowd. In fact, by the penmanship alone they could tell it was not a local.
YOU ARE NOT ALONE
STAY STRONG
IMPERIAL UNIT IS INVESTIGATING CRISIS
WILL SUPPORT IF SITUATION DETERIORATES
R.W.
The Palatine read it again as the other two Sisters looked at her for an answer. The only one she gave was not comforting, or holy in the slightest.
"Who the fuck is RW?"
XXXXXX
"Good shot Hawke. And it looks like they're reading it. Least we can give them a bit of good news."
"Thank you Boss."
Roger Wessyng and the Leopards were watching the crowd gather around the mission from a nearby rooftop, the knight using an Eldari equivalent of binoculars that gave a picture so clear it seemed as if he were on the Sororitas very walls.
"Fate must truly smile upon your holy kin that we were nearby when this would occur."
Kallen was lounging on the tiles, the morning sun warming his unmasked face. Watching nearby and undetected, two of his fellow Scorpions sat in wait, Moire and an equal number of fellow Avengers not far off.
"Alax, Steryn, what's your read on the PDF garrison?" Roger asked into his Xenos earpiece, ignoring the comment.
"Confused," a female voice answered. "They seem to be aware of the crowd and their intentions, but are unsure how to respond."
"The same for the soldiers on the other side of the river."
"Anya, the palace?"
"No signs of outright protest or rebellion, but crowds are beginning to gather. Some are bearing signs of… I will not repeat the first word, but they are certainly disapproving of a Famulous, whatever that means."
"So this is targeted against the Sisters of Battle, and only them."
"I would assume so," she replied.
He sighed before lowering the viewfinder and rubbing his eyes. On the one hand, the last two days of disguised investigation had reinforced the Ecclesiarchal opinion that something was happening on Haikk One, but with this singular attack on the Sororitas… the Tendency was here, and it was making a move in the capitol, Melstram. This not only meant that whoever was leading believed themselves safe enough to reveal their plans, and more importantly, themselves. He looked back to the humans of his unit, Davie almost leaned over the side and clutching his Hellgun, Bob at his side as Hawke laid down and pulled the string off his bow.
"We have to help them," the unarmored and un-Boltered Evita said with a bit of righteous anger.
Given the hostility that the heretics felt towards someone like her, having one running around in full armor was hardly a way to keep their unit incognito. No one was happy about it, but it was necessary. Even Roger had to admit she looked good in anything, even the secondhand PDF uniform they found in the warehouse that somehow fit her.
"We will," Parky said, patting her simply uniformed shoulder. "Right Sir?"
"We shall."
"And hopefully they have extra armor and weapons. I feel naked."
"Eve naked. Nice," Bob whispered.
"Shush," Davie said with a grin.
"Do you want us to join the crowd, Roger?" Evita asked, obviously not hearing the old medics comment.
"No, you're a liability, especially with that hair and that Fleur de lis tattoo on your face."
Roger tapped his armored fingers on the roof tiles for a few moments before he stopped halfway.
"Parky, Hawke. Get those disguises of yours and blend in. Ask around that crowd and try to figure out what's riled them up. Or who. Actually, who is the better question."
"Why me?" the former thief asked indignantly.
"Because you can sneak around and not get noticed. And Parky can at least keep himself out of trouble."
"Fine," Hawke groaned.
Evita was about to protest, but Roger quickly calmed her.
"He'll be fine, Sister. Especially when he has three Eldar watching over him. Kallen?"
The clatter of feet on the tiles signaled that the Striking Scorpions needed no order to follow.
"Everyone else, stay here and wait. Who knows what's going to happen now. Moire, get ready to help them or stand-by in case the rest of us get dragged into something. But all of you be quick, that mission is under siege, and Emperor knows how much longer they can hold out, no one was expecting this."
Hawke crawled away, moving back to the warehouse only twenty or so yards behind the Leopards. Parky started to do the same before Evita gently grabbed his arm.
"Good luck and be safe."
"I always have been, Eve."
The Sororitas watched the young man move away, making sure he got to the Leopards temporary hideout before turning to watch her besieged Sisters.
"Evita?"
"Yes sir?"
"Come over here for a second."
She looked at Roger in confusion for a moment before doing so.
"You're not his bloody mother."
"He barely had one."
"Well, you're supposed to be his squadmate, not babying him. It's getting noticed."
"Davie and the others understand-"
"Not who I was referring to."
Evita opened her mouth to say something, but then closed it as her face reddened, from both embarrassment and anger.
"You trust the opinions of Xenos?"
"They're the ones who made sure we've gotten home from our last ten or so missions, saved us at Acra… do you want me to go on?"
"They are not human, and their species are known for lies, tricks, and other falsehoods. Yet you trust them."
"Because I must. And they haven't betrayed me yet, and more importantly, they're the ones most likely to make sure Parky comes back in one piece should the worst happen, so my suggestion, with all due respect and without your powered armor: shut the hell up-"
"Sir!"
"Let me finish. Shut the hell up and get over the fact we are working with the Eldar, and if you want to stay near you know who, get used to it."
Evita tried to show some defiance, but the truth of the words quickly deflated her.
"Yes sir."
She sulked off to her previous position, looking over to find Davie and the others grinning or stifling laughter. How many times in ones life did a Guardsman see a Sister of Battle get a dressing down, even from an officer?
"Wipe those smug looks off your faces."
"Aye sir," Davie said, moving his Hellguns sights onto the mob.
"She will kill for that boy," Moire said flatly over the comms device.
"She knows that there are limits."
"I would be more cautious with her in the future."
"Noted."
The knight sat up and rested an elbow on his knee, looking across the crowd again. It was almost comedic, the one time that he and his unit showed up here, something stupid had to happen.
"You asked for it," he mumbled ruefully.
XXXXXX
"Stay close, Parky."
"I am!"
"I just want to be sure. Roger'll have my head if I lose you, and Evita… fucking hell, I don't even want to think about that."
"I would feel better if she had her Heavy Bolter."
"Me too, but we're sneaking, remember."
The two were dressed in unremarkable clothes in the local style, Hawke with a hood pulled up, Parky letting his blonde hair, what was left of it after a requested buzz cut, out in the midday sun.
"Hey, Hawke?"
"Aye?"
"How'd you learn to sneak as good as you do?"
"Dad taught me, and then I learned a few things in my last job."
"Is it true you were a… thief? Roger and Davie said you were."
Hawke stopped and turned to him, a devilish grin across his face.
"Oh, I was. A damn good one. Broke into lordly manors, out of prisons, and more than a few Churches. Don't tell your girlfriend that part though. I have enough problems."
"She is not my girlfriend!" Parky whimpered.
"Really? Then why do you spend so much time with her?"
"Because she thinks I need protecting."
"You have us-"
"My soul."
Hawke was about to say something derogatory but stopped.
"She… has a point there. But c'mon, isn't it obvious?"
"What is?"
"If you gave her the chance, she'd be in your bed and riding you harder than old Eddy on Boucicault! I can give you tips if you want. Helene found this book-"
"I-I-I won't let you slander Eve! She has nothing but pure motives and a purer heart! And I have never thought about her that way."
"Your loss boy. Hear that? Almost in the crowd."
Turning the corner, they found themselves at the edge of the mob, less a violent and murderous forming of an army as a farcically jovial meet and greet.
"Send the Sisters off!" one yelled, holding a picket sign that stated the same.
"Esperanz or bust!" another added.
"Throne, it's like a bleeding carnival," Hawke grumbled.
"Not like any mob I've seen, that's for sure. I've seen angrier crowds on the race paddock outside Castle Leyster."
"Ah, I know that part of County Kant quite well. You don't got the accent though."
"My mum traveled a lot before she passed. Guess I'm from all over the place."
Hawke winked at Parky with a grin.
"Same here. Was born to some peasant woman my pa knocked up in Notham, on the edge of the forest there. Course, we moved a lot."
"I think you should do the talking, you're better at accents and blending in than me."
"I'll give you some practice back on the fort, but good idea."
"Right behind you."
"Good lad."
The two Anglois moved deeper and deeper into the crowd, all in various forms of protest, ranging from vocally showing their frustration at the Sororitas presence in the city, to townsfolk simply joining in for lack of anything else to do that day. Hawke walked up to one of the former, gently tapping the woman's shoulder before she could belt out another string of obscenities describing where the Order of Sacred Avis could insert their teachings.
"Pardon ma'am, me and my boy here are from out of town, what's going on here?"
The provocateur looked Hawke up and down, as if reading the fact that he was out of place. Parky tried to hide his anxiety, even reaching into his pants to grab the dagger Roger had lent him in case something went wrong.
"You don't sound like you're from around here. Velsburg?"
"Yeah," the thief lied effortlessly.
"Thought so. We're protesting this mission from the Adepta Sororitas for violating basic Ecclesiarchal tenants."
"Such as?"
The woman stared back at him, unable to answer.
"Well… I dunno. But Father Abel at the Sacred Light told us that they were no good, and he's been good to us these past twenty so years, so I'm inclined to believe him. Besides, I'll put my trust in the good priest I know versus a hundred or so women with heavy weapons and armor who just showed up a year ago."
"Makes sense. Still, I wouldn't attack them, seems like suicide."
"We just want them to leave. Peaceful protest."
"I don't think they'll see it that way," Parky said, realizing he spoke out of turn.
"What makes you say that boy?"
"I've… dealt with Sororitas on our travels. They aren't the kind to give up easily, especially to those they think are heretics."
The woman blanched at the accusation.
"We aren't heretics! We're here because we fear for the safety of our faith! If anything, those women Astartes in there are the only thing heretical!"
"Eve would love that," Parky giggled, much to the woman's confusion.
"My boy thinks too much, sorry about that."
"I see. Well, anyways, listen to Father Abels sermons. Then you'll understand. And come back to join us and show those Sisters, we don't want them here!"
"Will do. Thank you, miss."
The two started heading back from where they came, weaving in and out of the growing throng.
"Heretic Sororitas? That's a new one; wouldn't you say Hawke?"
"Something don't smell right, Parky. You and I both know it."
"And everyone knows women can't be Astartes. That's ridiculous. And stupid."
"Aye. Well, Roger was telling us to watch the priests around here. You think that has anything to do with that?
"I wouldn't be surprised. Boss was always a bit too smart to be a Guardsman."
"Eve's gonna laugh herself into a coma when she hears what that woman said."
Hawke was about to mention his girlfriend when they both stopped at the edge of the crowd. It was one thing to hear the pounding of feet on the roads, but this was different. A deep, bass-like roar that shook the ground and filled the air. Parky was a bit confused, but after years of experience the boy had yet to learn, the thief gritted his teeth and shuddered.
"Tanks," he hissed.
No sooner had he said it, three large metal boxes started trundling down the street towards the crowd. They were older models, Malcadors that had been long phased out by frontline Guard units but a staple amongst the PDF. The leader moved along the street as the two stepped onto the nearby sidewalk.
"Should we be worried?"
"Only if those Bolters on the side and that cannon aim straight at us."
But just as the tank moved alongside them, it came to a shuddering halt, the turret hatch opening. A moment later, a figure wearing a green sidecap and a headset popped out.
"Halt!"
Parky saw Hawke about to continue moving on but pulled him back.
"Something wrong sir?" he asked sheepishly, unwittingly using his boyish charm.
"Are you two part of the disturbance near the mission?"
"We're traders from Velsburg. Trying to figure out what was going on."
The apparent commander of the tank unit nodded before shaking his head.
"What the hell is going on there?"
Hawke moved ahead and bowed slightly.
"Protests, sir. Nothing violent."
"No shooting?"
"No, nothing. Just holding signs and demanding the Sisters leave."
"What the hell is going on around here? You two PDF?"
Hawke shrugged.
"I once was. Boys too young for fighting."
"I see. Well it's a damn mess. I'm a Captain in the 1st Armored Regiment. You said Velsburg, right? 270th?"
"Er, yes."
"I know a soldier when I see one. Want my advice from one to another? Get the hell out of town as soon as you can. There's protestors showing up at the Governors Palace, demanding that Sororitas teaching his little brat leave with the others."
"So this isn't a rebellion?" Parky asked.
"Looks that way son. You and your dad should leave, we have orders to shoot and enact a curfew if things get heated."
"Thank you for the warning sir, hope it doesn't come to that."
"Neither do I," the captain grimly said before pressing the microphone beads on his throat.
With a roar, the tanks continued down the street towards the surging crowd.
"We need to get to Roger," Hawke said.
Parky did not argue in the slightest.
XXXXXX
"No doubt about it boss, this is targeted against the Sisters and only them."
Roger was sitting behind a desk in the impromptu quarters the Leopards spent the last two days in, mulling the information Hawke and Parky had brought back. He tapped his cheek a few times before turning to Evita.
"You ever deal with something like this Sister?"
"A rebellion?"
Her silver-white hair bobbed up and down.
"Yixi. There was a cult of some sort that riled up the masses. Put down easily, but they targeted everything Imperial, PDF, government, and a few Churches we had to protect. But they went to war with everyone, not just a single mission and Famulous."
"Famulous?" Kallen asked.
"It is a branch of the Sororitas that focuses on ensuring stable bloodlines and the loyalty of the ruling classes across the Imperium," she said with a bit of annoyance. "It is not as exciting and rather thankless, but they are a vital part of our mission to protect humanity and ensure good governance."
"Given the few human leaders I have seen, they are doing a rather poor job."
"They cannot be everywhere Xe-Kallen."
The correction was rushed but earned the approval of Roger and Parky. The Anglois other than Roger in the unit still believed the Eldar were a form of Abhuman, Longshanks or something along those lines and her apparent prejudice bothered the young man. The fact they did not question why their armor or weapons were so advanced, why Evita consistently called them Xenos, along with other hints had always baffled the knight and Sororitas, but they had more pressing matters at the moment.
"She's right, and as much as I can agree with you on the miserable state of leadership in the Imperium, especially this God-Emperor forsaken system, we need a plan."
"What exactly are we doing here, Roger?" the Scorpion asked.
The entire unit, except for Bob who maintained a vigil on the crowd from the roof, turned to Roger. Their eyes, Eldar and human, seemed to bore through his armor and straight into his soul. He winced slightly, trying to think how to respond. He decided to do what he did best: give a half-answer.
"We believe the rebellion has gone underground. Moved into an organization that is untouchable and everywhere in the system. And we think that they're somehow involved in that chapel we found a week ago and the disturbance here."
The group processed this information for a few moments. To Rogers' amusement, the brilliant minds of the Eldar were beaten to the punch by Evita, who gasped.
"The rebels have infiltrated our Holy Church!"
"That is…" Moire started to say with approval, "Rather brilliant, especially for your kind."
"Bleedin' 'ell," Davie said in his Western Avalonian brogue.
Parky lit up as the others explained Rogers words.
"Sir! The crowd, they said they were told by a Father… What was his name, Hawke?"
"Er, Abel, I think."
"That's it! He's the preacher at something called the Sacred Light around here. He was the one telling them to protest and ask for the Sisters to leave. Throne, it's all making sense now!"
"What didn't you tell me this earlier?"
"We thought you would want to know about the crowds not being threatening and the tanks more."
Roger sat back and rubbed his chin before pressing on the Eldari comms device hidden in his ear.
"Anya."
"Roger?"
"What's the situation at the Governor's Palace?"
"Stable but looking at the faces of the crowd and the guards, it's coming to a… boiling point, as your kind says."
"I see. Keep me informed, I think we've gotten to the bottom of this mess."
"Will do. May fate be with you."
He thought about answering, but the other Eldar could hear their communications. He stood up and stretched, looking out the window to the street below. More people were moving to join the crowds as the minutes passed, and given the increasing tensions, it was obvious that it would take a single spark to turn the smoldering embers of protest into a wildfire of revolt.
"We need to find this Abel fellow. I have a feeling he'll give us the answers we all want. Any comments or complaints?"
He looked to the Eldar, who surprisingly seemed unquestioning. It had been one thing to help Edmund and his armies on Haikk Four, but following him on what seemed to be little more than a fool's errand-
"What exactly is the Sacred Light?" Kallen asked.
"Hell if I know. Thankfully I don't live here, and we were focused on the other side of the river. Parky, Hawke, whoever told you about this priest, they tell you where that was at?"
"Didn't say."
"Great."
A warm breeze filled the room as Bob came back inside.
"Anything change?"
"Nope."
"Should we send someone out to watch them?"
"Nah."
"No riots?"
"Nope."
Roger rolled his eyes at the old man. Never was much of a talker but certainly got to the point.
"Evita, you have any idea what the Sacred Light could be?"
"Church, chapel, or cathedral. That is a quite common name for places of worship."
"How many are there around here?"
"A city this size? Twenty at least. Maybe forty if it is pious."
"Bollocks. Maybe we'll have to go and ask the locals. Anyone want to disguise themselves? Davie?"
"Hell with that."
"And what about our friends in the corner?"
Moire and Kallen seemed to shrug in unison.
"Apologies Roger, this place is of no understanding to us. Far too simple."
"Hilarious. Well, somebody better-"
He was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. He turned to find Bob, his wispy snow-white hair a bit of a mess. Before he could ask, he noticed a gloved finger pointing at the top of the desk. Leaning over, he realized it was a map, and the old man had found-
"Bloody hell, that's only three blocks away!"
XXXXXX
The Cathedral of the Sacred Light was empty, the faithful who regularly filled its pews on the streets and raging against the heretics in their midst. Dusting off the altar, Father Hallander Abel was quite satisfied with himself instead of fearing an empty church. He cared deeply for the people of Melstram, from the highest noble to the lowest vagrant, and to see them stand against the forces that threatened the safety of their souls. And now, in peace, they wished to let their fears be known, and the foreign interlopers would be thrown out without a shot fired or a human being injured. It was… he sighed and kneeled before the altar before he finished.
"Perfect," he whispered.
But just as he began to ruminate on his success, and what wonders it would not only bring him in this life and the next for serving the Emperor so well, he heard the creak of a side door opening. The massive ones that allowed for the flood of the faithful on Sundays and holidays were firmly closed. Abel made the sign of the Aquila on his chest and stood, looking down the cavern like nave to find a single figure moving towards him. A clunk of metal followed with every footstep.
"You are not among the faithful, my son?" Abel asked with little worry.
"Not a local, just a simple knight looking for the comfort of the Emperors Holy Light."
"My son, I may not be able to offer holy light, but I can certainly offer a Sacred one."
"That will do just as well, father."
As the man approached, Abel realized that instead of being a simple jest, he truly looked like a knight of old. Well fitted armor, sword dangling off his left hip, and a helmet held in his right hand.
"A true knight! Rare. But I have heard that the forces of the Imperium and the Guard had a force of troops that were from a feudal world. Are you one of them?"
"Yes father," the man said with an affable smile.
He was a bit short for a knight, but who was a priest to judge on anything but a mans soul?
"Well sir knight, May I ask what has been troubling you?"
"These disturbances across the city, father. It troubles me to see such outrage in the streets."
"Across the city? I merely thought that the crowds had moved on to the Mission of Saint Roque?"
"Then you have been left uninformed father. Crowds gather in front of the Governors Palace. Thankfully they wish him and his family no harm, but they want the Sororitas who tutors him gone."
Abel had a quick, almost imperceptible flash of joy, but hid it to not disturb the knight.
"That is terrible news."
"Yes. Incredible is it not? That what some would call a rebellion is not against the Imperium."
"Well, the good people of Melstram have realized that they should only attack those who threaten their faith. At least, I would believe."
"Of course, father."
The knight tapped the hilt of his sword, jeweled and decorated in a way even an Ecclesiarchal warrior would have found intriguing in its style.
"Or it could be some holier than thou shitheel whipping up the stupid, unwashed masses to attack the Sisters of Battle for reasons they don't understand."
Abels kindly face turned stony, then indignant.
"You… you dare insult a man of the cloth in this sacred temple to the Holy Emperor?"
"A place that inhabits its Temple with one of a peculiar Tendency gets no respect from me… father."
The last word was nearly imperceptible, almost sounding like "fucker." But it was the statement before that veiled insult that disturbed Abel the most.
"What do you-"
"I know your brand of heretics. You made it too obvious, you know. Attacking everything Imperial that you and your ilk have infected in this sector would have been an easier way to protect your secrecy. But then you got far too comfortable, only attacking Sororitas, a derangement against a part of the Ecclesiarchy that tore your hero down. By the way, when they induct you into the Temple of the Saviour Emperor-"
"H-how are you-"
"Please collect yourself father, your secrecy only goes so far. As I was saying, what do they tell you? That the Sororitas are unworthy? An errant fluke? A symbol of a reformation that destroyed the "true church"? I am genuinely curious."
Abels teeth collided with one another, holding back a seething rage before he cooled and stood straight. He then spoke, with an insufferable smugness.
"I had expected my action to not attract the attention of the false Church and the Imperium it has corrupted, but I see our enemies are much smarter than my brethren expected. You have me dead to rights. I wish to free the people of Haikk One from the Church that has ruined and destroyed the faith, and their most ardent defenders. And you will not stop us, sir knight."
The armored man nodded slowly and sniffed.
"Well. I do appreciate the honesty. I am surprised that you were so open. Now, I believe you have no intention of coming with me as a prisoner, so-" he placed the helmet on his head, the visor with a bulb on the bottom hanging horizontally. "I am afraid that this holy place will be somewhat defiled by me dragging your miserable, traitorous ass across it and out the street."
"Your arrogance blinds you, Sir…"
"Roger Wessyng, at your service."
"Sir Wessyng. This place is not just a simple cathedral, but one of immense importance to our sect. Are you aware that all our sites are guarded with some of the finest warriors money can buy in the Imperium?"
"I haven't met a living one yet, but I would love to see."
As if on cue, almost laughable in its melodrama, three massive guards, all grim faced and armed with a mixture of firearms and swords, power and chain alike, stepped forward.
"Here, sir knight. Guards of our Chantry."
Then Abels face turned serious and grim.
"I tell you all this because you will never leave this place alive. And even if you had help, you would still be little more than a shredded corpse. I assure you."
More guards of similar type moved from the shadows, coming towards Roger from all sides. To Abels surprise, he seemed completely unfazed by this certain death. The knight smiled at the priest, and with a thunderous clang, his metal visor was lowered as his sword was drawn, revealing a blindingly white blade. The crackle of an in-helmet speaker echoed the final words before the Cathedral would be defiled with blood.
"I'd like to see you try."