Getting this out of the way first: I don't really care if I didn't get some of the specific names right. I don't care if it's not a "vid screen" but actually a "holo-vid projector array" or whatever 40k calls it.
Just figured I'd toss this here just in case my hard drive explodes or something crazy, and because I figure it might entertain a bored handful of people. Mind you, this is far from the best I can do but I have no way to prove that, and criticism is welcome because I'm not an ass who thinks everything I do is perfect. My campaign is about a Canoness Superior and her entire Order splitting away from the Imperium because they deem it corrupt and hypocritical, disgusted with its lack of care for human life. Real original, right? In before Soul Drinkers, didn't even think of those until someone pointed it out to me, this is not inspired by them.
My campaigns do not take place in Calixis, by the way.
The setup here for the story is the Acolytes were tasked with the destruction of a rather sizable cult worshipping Khorne that's been around for a few years too long, but upon entering they were greeted by a taskforce of the system's Sororitas order, The Lamenting Sisterhood whose exploits in the subsector are legend. The strike force is led by their Canoness Superior, Milyth Dilentia, and the cult gets pretty owned real fast. Afterwards, they are taken to a motivational speech/rally given by the Governor, them, and the Canoness Superior with her bodyguard retinue to celebrate because the cult was a real pain in the ass. blah blah blah blah blah
Several million individuals have left their homes to stand in the streets, to crowd and wonder at the vid screens lined along the buildings and skyscrapers of the capitol city as their leaders and heroes address them, to celebrate an elated victory over the most heinous of enemies: The Traitor. A cult of Chaos worshippers has been exposed and dealt with violently and swiftly. But more than this, it was done by a hero of the Aurora sub sector, an instrument of His divine will who had brought the hammer of righteousness down upon the heathen and bathed herself in the cleansing spray of a nonbeliever broken.
In the golden light of sunset, a writhing mass of people cheer, waving their arms excitedly as Planetary Governor Aaron Geld takes the stage in the city square. It is large, at least twenty meters in both directions, raised a good two off the ground and made of high quality marble which reflects the sunlight, giving those on it an almost ethereal quality. He is dressed regally, green and weaved from exotic Eldar fabrics, slick black hair combed back to expose a smooth, unmarked complexion as armed Stormtroopers follow him, standing at attention. And following him, a figure that silences the crowd for a moment as they gaze upon her, clad in black armor of the finest ceramite and adamantine, a collar of feathers beginning at the shoulders circling the back of her neck, a flowing red cape with a metallic sheen devoid of any symbols save for that of her order dragging along the ground behind her. She stands at attention as ten of her Sisters follow her, encased in the same type of armor, but missing the feathers and cloak of their superior. She turns to the crowd, one green eye facing them, jerking her head to one side to clear her face of long, white hair, exposing an eyepatch covering her left eye. As the Sisters stand at attention, bolters ready to be raised, a group of Inquisitorial acolytes follows, led by a tall Sister in power armor, her own hair white and flowing. They stand by the side of the bodyguard retinue and wait.
Geld takes the stand, speaking in a loud, clear voice that echoes across the city from loudspeakers on every corner.
“People of Aurora! We have won ourselves a great victory today, routing the seed of corruption from our fair planet with the fervor and speed that the Emperor demands!” A cheer comes from the crowd, deafening due to the sheer number of bodies crying out. “As most of you are aware, we owe our continued safety and piety to Milyth Dilentia, and her Lamenting Sisterhood.” Geld motions to the tall woman standing to his side, and the crowd’s cheers reach unprecedented levels, but are quickly silenced by a motion from the Governor. “As well as the Inquisition. We are forever grateful for their assistance and the vigil they hold over our glorious Imperium.” More cheers, though they sound more worried than genuinely excited. “I am sure you are all anxious to hear the Canoness speak… I admit that I am as well. I will not waste your time.” He leaves the stand and Milyth takes his place, clearing her throat.
“Today, we have slain a cult worshipping one of the Chaos gods, Khorne. They revel in bloodshed, killing indiscriminately to sate their primal, savage desires.” Milyth’s eye glances over at the Governor for a brief second as she says this. “And I can see no difference between them and the man I see now.”
“What…?” The Governor looks up at her, shocked.
”Praise the Emperor all you like, but the truth is that today’s battle was not won with faith or devotion, but with blood spilled and the determination to see things through. The Emperor had no hand in this, or any other battle.” Murmurs now, frightened, unsure. Shocked. “Where is the Emperor when his worlds are invaded and burned? Where is He when his loyal followers are butchered in their homes? By their own people?” A few brave Stormtroopers raise their weapons but are quickly butchered by the Sisters armed with bolters behind them, shredded to useless piles of meat by the mass reactive cores. “Did I not just say the Imperium would all too swiftly slay one of their own?” The Canoness shakes her head sadly then lifts her head, nodding to her guard retinue. The acolytes and remaining Stormtroopers are grabbed and quickly subdued, forced to the ground with bolters trained on their backs. Any movement would mean a swift death.
The Planetary Governor is brought struggling, kicking and screaming obscenities at the women.
"You *****! Chaos-infested hellspawn! Unhand me, you harlots, or I'll-" The Canoness kicks him in the jaw with a loud crack following, sending teeth flying out across the stage.
"Idle threats from a powerless man." She muses, turning to face the crowd once more. The Governor is in full view, held down on his knees as he spits up blood and feebly attempts to rub what is running down his chin off on his regal outfit. "Here is a man who claims to have been bestowed his position by the Emperor himself, to safeguard you and keep your interests at heart." She turns and looks at him with an expression of pure disgust, looking back to the masses with a scowl. "And yet all I can wonder is how many more lies he has told. How many of you have lost loved ones to Imperial forces due to accusations of Heresy, your valuables stolen, your homes burnt down, everything you’ve worked for undone in an instant? How many of you have starved because they claim there have been no shipments?" She points at him. "Does he look poor? Does he look starved? Why do your afflictions not ail him?"
The large screens lining the city streets for the speech change from a view of the Canoness at the podium to picts of the Governor feasting, dates clear to see in the corner... dates that are well recognized as times of extreme famine. Picts in sequence of the Governor personally violating "the Spawn of Heretics", no matter how young, before sending them to be executed. Vids of him at secret deals with Ork mercenaries, paid to plunder and kill for his own personal benefit.
"This is the man you put your trust in." She points at the vid screens, and then back to the still bleeding Governor on the stage. "This is the man who has betrayed you."
"Why are you doing this...? What is your goal? To incite rebellion...?" The Governor gasps out, spitting blood into the crowd.
"It is nothing so petty as rebellion, Geld."
"Then what…? Have you gone mad…? Has the stress of battle finally destroyed your mind…?"
"No. It has freed it." Milyth draws her power sword and thumbs the activation rune, the blade whirring to life, encased in a light blue power field crackling with energy. The sword is long, blade stained a washed copper from centuries of use, the guard two, golden angelic wings going out towards the length with a fleur de lys pommel, a metallic blue color. “I have fought the enemies of the Emperor my entire life, Geld.” His head is produced and held forward by the Sisters. “And all I am doing is continuing to do so. Even now.”
”Do it quickly, Canoness. We do not have much time.” Milyth nods and plants the edge against the back of his neck, Geld whimpering in pain from the power field.
“Please… don’t do this… I just did what I had to…”
“You are not even worthy of a speech, Geld. You disgust me.” The weapon is raised and brought down with perfect aim, severing the head at the neck cleanly and with little arterial spray. The body is dropped and hits the stage dully, Milyth grabbing the head and raising it high in the air for all to see. Vid screens everywhere show this sight, blood dripping from the stump pathetically. Geld’s expression is one of horror, eyes wide and wet with tears. “This is the face of the real traitor! Men like this, who lie to you with a smile in broad daylight, are the ones you should fear and cast down!” Milyth tosses the head into the crowd, the action greeted with shrieks and whimpers.
And then all at once, hell breaks loose. A single sniper shot pangs against Milyth’s shoulder, ricochets back and goes through the eyepiece of the Sister holding down one of the Acolytes, the white haired woman. She grabs the bolter quickly and gets to her feet, firing at the Sister holding the Acolyte next to her down, a Psyker. The shot doesn’t kill her but knocks her off her feet and back off of the stage, the Sister grasping at whatever she can before she falls, grabbing the rising Psyker and pulling him with her. Another sniper shot echoes out across the now screaming and fleeing crowd. It hits another in the head and kills her, splattering ceramite and skull fragments onto the stormtrooper engaged with her. The white haired woman charges Milyth as the stormtrooper begins to free the rest of the Acolytes, pulling a chainsword from the sheath on her waist and ducking under a horizontal swing, driving her mass into the Canoness.
”I was once like you.” Milyth braces herself, digging her feet into the stage, absorbing the impact as she grasps Artemis’s neck, lifting her into the air with little effort despite the several hundred pounds of metal encasing her body. Artemis kicks at the Canoness Superior’s chestplate with no effect, Milyth raising her sword in her hand. “Your rashness will be your death.” The blade plunges into the Sister’s breast with the whine of rent metal and the scream of a woman in pain.
“I am doing you a favor.” Milyth drops Artemis, pushing the sword deeper in an arc as she falls to the stage, embedding itself in the marble. The Sister screams in pain and arches her back by reflex, only moving herself up on the blade, blood smearing the stained metal. A shot from a Stormtrooper’s shotgun forces Milyth forward and away from the weapon with the impact, and she draws a bolt pistol, killing the man with a single, precise shot to the head.
The Sisters are now engaged with the Adeptus Arbites, who have forced themselves through the crowd to deal with this unexpected threat, and the Acolytes are free. Milyth turns to face the standing Inquisitors, Artemis writhing in pain as she remains impaled against the stage, unable to move.
Milyth faces the Acolytes and drops to a fighting pose, wiping a spatter of blood from her cheek.
“Do not hold back.”