Aleksandr Von Drakenfell wrote:
The_Diva wrote:
Ixqueya rose with an unhurried exactitude, as though elevation itself were a prerogative that required no justification. Her eyes did not flare. They clarified. Hoarfrost blue, pitilessly lucid. She regarded the assemblage of postures and borrowed sanctities before her with the affect of a magistrate reviewing a sentence already rendered.
“You call me heretic,” she said, each consonant honed to a cold, immaculate edge. “You do so because it is the only syllable your conditioning permits when comprehension fails.”
Her gaze settled on the devotional implements, the sanctimonious epithets, the hand that mimed protection. Her mouth resolved into a thin configuration of disdain, precise and joyless.
“You speak of the Emperor as though he were metaphysical statute. I have heard this liturgy in its earlier iterations. I have heard it at the moment of its collapse.” She let the ledger cant, candlelight skidding along its edge like a blade tested for balance. “I know your watchwords. I know your apothegms. Cadia stands. It stood until it did not. Only in death does duty end. A narcotic aphorism for those who require endless obligation to launder atrocity. The Emperor protects. A nursery charm for soldiers frightened by the silence between orders.”
Her cadence remained clinical. The cruelty lay in its restraint.
“I know Istvaan’s treachery. I know Prospero’s cinders. I know the Siege, the walls, the rationing of souls beneath the Throne’s pall. I know the Heresy not as parable but as recurrence. I know the Administratum’s calculus of expendables. I know the Ecclesiarchy’s commerce in suffering. I know the Inquisition’s habit of sanctifying paranoia. I know the Astra Militarum’s talent for becoming meat with a banner. I know the Astartes’ conversion of massacre into euphemism and its christening as compliance.”
She raised her eyes again, and the contempt sharpened into something corrosive.
“You wonder how I speak these names without having genuflected in your chapels or bled in your trenches.” A pause, exact as a scalpel’s hesitation. “Because your dead are not as obedient as you insist.”
Ixqueya tapped the ledger once. The sound was slight. It carried the finality of a nail seated.
“Your fallen do not come to me as plunder. They arrive by choice.” Her gaze hardened. “When the shouting ends and the bolter hymns fall silent, the lies evacuate first. What remains understands itself. They leave your slogans behind. They come to me to serve, not your throne, but the truth of what they have become.” A fractional incline of her head. “They are not servants. They are attestations. They are weight. They are knowledge. They are the chapters of your history you failed to redact.”
Her presence cooled further, the frigid femininity of it turning predatory rather than alluring. Appraising. Exacting.
“Do not mistake me for your pageant of death,” she continued. “I am not your counterfeit reaper, not a costume donned to frighten children into obedience. I am the remainder. I am what waits when theater collapses.” Her eyes did not waver. “Reality does not announce itself with hymns.”
She dismissed the words they had flung like talismans.
“And your so-called gods of Chaos.” The faintest curl of her lip. “Delusional excrescences. Hunger given personality. Parasites that feed on emotion and call it dominion. I have watched powers like them dwindle, fracture, and file themselves into my ledgers alongside legions that once believed eternity was a guarantee. Everything that requires worship is already provisional.”
She leaned in by a measure, eyes never leaving theirs.
“For sixty-one cycles I have conducted this accounting. I have seen emperors grander than your carrion idol discover the limits of noise. Repetition teaches efficiency. My people learned it well.” She straightened, immaculate in her disdain. “Your Emperor’s light is a mote among motes. In true winter, motes do not legislate. They are smothered.”
Her voice lowered, razor-clean.
“If you seek conflict, initiate it. I will not petition your restraint. I will not bargain with delusion.” A final pause. “I will simply record the result, as I have always done, and continue the work that awaits you all.”
The silence that followed was not absence. It was an inspection. Ixqueya’s gaze remained fixed, as though the room itself were being measured for burial allotment. Then her mouth moved again, sparing them the indulgence of surprise.
“And since you seem to require further blasphemy before you can understand that I am not guessing,” she said, “I will give you more.”
She let the ledger cant, not theatrically, but with the minute ritual of a priest turning a page.
“I know the Age of Strife, when mankind learned the taste of its own abandonment. I know the Dark Age of Technology, your lost Eden built on sins you prefer to romanticize. I know the Men of Iron, the old betrayal that taught humanity to fear its own genius more than any alien claw.”
Her eyes narrowed, winter-clear.
“I know the Treaty of Mars, the necessary sacrilege that yoked Terra’s hunger to the Mechanicum’s machine-prayers. I know the Unification Wars, the ash of Terra before your Imperium learned to call conquest ‘order.’ I know the Thunder Warriors, discarded when their usefulness expired, like broken tools thrown into snowdrifts.”
The ledger’s edge caught candlelight again, sharp as a confession.
“I know Ullanor. I know the Rangdan Xenocides, that redacted abyss you are trained not to name aloud. I know the Primarch Project and the scattering, as if fate reached into a cradle and scattered heirs like dice.”
Her voice remained calm. Her contempt did not.
“I know the Webway Project, the Emperor’s private artery meant to starve older hungers by denying them purchase on mankind’s soul. I know the Council of Nikaea, dread masquerading as jurisprudence. I know the Sisters of Silence, that pariah-cold you call auxiliary because the truth unsettles you.”
A fractional pause, dense as compacted snow.
“I know the Black Ships, the harvest of psykers reduced to inventory. I know the Astronomican, a lighthouse sustained because lives are fed into it until they become fuel. I know the Grey Knights, sealed as a reliquary against what your sermons cannot master.”
Her stare returned to them with a pitiless serenity.
“Some of these you learn as campfire catechism. Others are hoarded behind seals, spoken only in rooms that smell of incense and fear.” She tapped the ledger once. “It does not matter. They arrive to me the same way. In the mouths of the dead who finally stop lying.”
Her tone sharpened into something quietly annihilative.
“You want to believe your Emperor is the terminus of all things. He is not. He is an anxious ember enthroned in machinery, praised as a sun. He is sustained by perpetual immolation and called benevolent for it.” Her eyes held theirs. “Your so-called gods of Chaos are no better. Delirious excrescences. Hunger given faces. Dependent, loud, and mortal in the only way that matters.”
Ixqueya’s mouth curved, faint and predatory.
“In time, the things you fear will also be filed. Their legions will also learn the quiet. Powers like them have done so before.” Her voice lowered again, razor-clean. “Everything that demands worship is already provisional. It is merely awaiting the moment winter arrives and stops pretending to care what you called it.”
(((Made in a rush.)))
“You call me heretic,” she said, each consonant honed to a cold, immaculate edge. “You do so because it is the only syllable your conditioning permits when comprehension fails.”
Her gaze settled on the devotional implements, the sanctimonious epithets, the hand that mimed protection. Her mouth resolved into a thin configuration of disdain, precise and joyless.
“You speak of the Emperor as though he were metaphysical statute. I have heard this liturgy in its earlier iterations. I have heard it at the moment of its collapse.” She let the ledger cant, candlelight skidding along its edge like a blade tested for balance. “I know your watchwords. I know your apothegms. Cadia stands. It stood until it did not. Only in death does duty end. A narcotic aphorism for those who require endless obligation to launder atrocity. The Emperor protects. A nursery charm for soldiers frightened by the silence between orders.”
Her cadence remained clinical. The cruelty lay in its restraint.
“I know Istvaan’s treachery. I know Prospero’s cinders. I know the Siege, the walls, the rationing of souls beneath the Throne’s pall. I know the Heresy not as parable but as recurrence. I know the Administratum’s calculus of expendables. I know the Ecclesiarchy’s commerce in suffering. I know the Inquisition’s habit of sanctifying paranoia. I know the Astra Militarum’s talent for becoming meat with a banner. I know the Astartes’ conversion of massacre into euphemism and its christening as compliance.”
She raised her eyes again, and the contempt sharpened into something corrosive.
“You wonder how I speak these names without having genuflected in your chapels or bled in your trenches.” A pause, exact as a scalpel’s hesitation. “Because your dead are not as obedient as you insist.”
Ixqueya tapped the ledger once. The sound was slight. It carried the finality of a nail seated.
“Your fallen do not come to me as plunder. They arrive by choice.” Her gaze hardened. “When the shouting ends and the bolter hymns fall silent, the lies evacuate first. What remains understands itself. They leave your slogans behind. They come to me to serve, not your throne, but the truth of what they have become.” A fractional incline of her head. “They are not servants. They are attestations. They are weight. They are knowledge. They are the chapters of your history you failed to redact.”
Her presence cooled further, the frigid femininity of it turning predatory rather than alluring. Appraising. Exacting.
“Do not mistake me for your pageant of death,” she continued. “I am not your counterfeit reaper, not a costume donned to frighten children into obedience. I am the remainder. I am what waits when theater collapses.” Her eyes did not waver. “Reality does not announce itself with hymns.”
She dismissed the words they had flung like talismans.
“And your so-called gods of Chaos.” The faintest curl of her lip. “Delusional excrescences. Hunger given personality. Parasites that feed on emotion and call it dominion. I have watched powers like them dwindle, fracture, and file themselves into my ledgers alongside legions that once believed eternity was a guarantee. Everything that requires worship is already provisional.”
She leaned in by a measure, eyes never leaving theirs.
“For sixty-one cycles I have conducted this accounting. I have seen emperors grander than your carrion idol discover the limits of noise. Repetition teaches efficiency. My people learned it well.” She straightened, immaculate in her disdain. “Your Emperor’s light is a mote among motes. In true winter, motes do not legislate. They are smothered.”
Her voice lowered, razor-clean.
“If you seek conflict, initiate it. I will not petition your restraint. I will not bargain with delusion.” A final pause. “I will simply record the result, as I have always done, and continue the work that awaits you all.”
The silence that followed was not absence. It was an inspection. Ixqueya’s gaze remained fixed, as though the room itself were being measured for burial allotment. Then her mouth moved again, sparing them the indulgence of surprise.
“And since you seem to require further blasphemy before you can understand that I am not guessing,” she said, “I will give you more.”
She let the ledger cant, not theatrically, but with the minute ritual of a priest turning a page.
“I know the Age of Strife, when mankind learned the taste of its own abandonment. I know the Dark Age of Technology, your lost Eden built on sins you prefer to romanticize. I know the Men of Iron, the old betrayal that taught humanity to fear its own genius more than any alien claw.”
Her eyes narrowed, winter-clear.
“I know the Treaty of Mars, the necessary sacrilege that yoked Terra’s hunger to the Mechanicum’s machine-prayers. I know the Unification Wars, the ash of Terra before your Imperium learned to call conquest ‘order.’ I know the Thunder Warriors, discarded when their usefulness expired, like broken tools thrown into snowdrifts.”
The ledger’s edge caught candlelight again, sharp as a confession.
“I know Ullanor. I know the Rangdan Xenocides, that redacted abyss you are trained not to name aloud. I know the Primarch Project and the scattering, as if fate reached into a cradle and scattered heirs like dice.”
Her voice remained calm. Her contempt did not.
“I know the Webway Project, the Emperor’s private artery meant to starve older hungers by denying them purchase on mankind’s soul. I know the Council of Nikaea, dread masquerading as jurisprudence. I know the Sisters of Silence, that pariah-cold you call auxiliary because the truth unsettles you.”
A fractional pause, dense as compacted snow.
“I know the Black Ships, the harvest of psykers reduced to inventory. I know the Astronomican, a lighthouse sustained because lives are fed into it until they become fuel. I know the Grey Knights, sealed as a reliquary against what your sermons cannot master.”
Her stare returned to them with a pitiless serenity.
“Some of these you learn as campfire catechism. Others are hoarded behind seals, spoken only in rooms that smell of incense and fear.” She tapped the ledger once. “It does not matter. They arrive to me the same way. In the mouths of the dead who finally stop lying.”
Her tone sharpened into something quietly annihilative.
“You want to believe your Emperor is the terminus of all things. He is not. He is an anxious ember enthroned in machinery, praised as a sun. He is sustained by perpetual immolation and called benevolent for it.” Her eyes held theirs. “Your so-called gods of Chaos are no better. Delirious excrescences. Hunger given faces. Dependent, loud, and mortal in the only way that matters.”
Ixqueya’s mouth curved, faint and predatory.
“In time, the things you fear will also be filed. Their legions will also learn the quiet. Powers like them have done so before.” Her voice lowered again, razor-clean. “Everything that demands worship is already provisional. It is merely awaiting the moment winter arrives and stops pretending to care what you called it.”
(((Made in a rush.)))
" And yet in all your grandeur and your expulsion of our fragmented histories, what is available for the record and known to the lexographers and the scholars of whom possess this knowledge... did you aim to impress upon us with this cacophony of common knowledge, only one thing is made evident in such and such excalamations "
Aleksandr took pause, nodding to a guardsman
" That you have heard of us. We however, have not heard of you and refuse to acknowledge such carefully coated attempts at false hegemonies, do you think sorcerors have not made such utterances before nor chaos has spoken to us in such witty tongues... no... we know you as well, not in the form you present with, not in your syllables and origins... but what you are beyond the carapace of a giantess... a falsehood, a factor of ruin, another wisp of the immaterium given presumption of dominion upon false masteries and fledgling powers beyond the veil. We not only know you... We refuse your terms unless you yield to ours.
The guardsman returned handing Aleksandr a round device, with words engraved into it, he held it up for the Wych to behold, for it was a collar that held her very name.
" BY THE EMPEROR, KNEEL OR BE KNELT "
"I do not fear death. Death will fear me," she said coldly as her purple eyes kept on the woman.
In that exact moment, she saw Aleksandr be handed a collar with Ixqueya's name on it. What was it for? She was surely confused, but she felt like it was to make her bow before their Imperium might. She stood there quiet hearing him bolstering them into excitement. Especially her. She would die for the Emperor of Mankind. Her only existence now was to serve him.
She looked at Aleksandr and asked, "What should we do? She is threatening us?" She knew he had a plan and she wanted to hear it directly from him. She waited for Donatos and Ubba to add their own two cents into the conversation. This woman was truly getting on her nerves about them being killed and whatnot. She still didn't fear death.
((God, you guys are too fast for me to respond...x.x))
((Again yo. Too fast. x.x I got to say this is getting interesting?))
She looked at her Lord General and asked him, "What now? Relaxation?" She wanted to leave things be. She had got all riled up for all of this to end flat. Perhaps another time she will be beside him on the battlefield taking it to the Slaanesh scum and the orks. She would enjoy the thrill of the kill. It would be the best she could offer to her superior officer.
"ROUNDS ON ME!"
She yelled out loud as she was hoping for the bartender to come over with ale. She wanted the best strong ale, not the weak tasting ale that tasted watered down. She looked at Aleksandr as she admired him.
"ROUNDS ON ME!"
She yelled out loud as she was hoping for the bartender to come over with ale. She wanted the best strong ale, not the weak tasting ale that tasted watered down. She looked at Aleksandr as she admired him.
"Guess I won't say no to free booze."
Akatsuki Augus wrote:
"Guess I won't say no to free booze."
Ami Arpatia wrote:
She looked at her Lord General and asked him, "What now? Relaxation?" She wanted to leave things be. She had got all riled up for all of this to end flat. Perhaps another time she will be beside him on the battlefield taking it to the Slaanesh scum and the orks. She would enjoy the thrill of the kill. It would be the best she could offer to her superior officer.
"ROUNDS ON ME!"
She yelled out loud as she was hoping for the bartender to come over with ale. She wanted the best strong ale, not the weak tasting ale that tasted watered down. She looked at Aleksandr as she admired him.
"ROUNDS ON ME!"
She yelled out loud as she was hoping for the bartender to come over with ale. She wanted the best strong ale, not the weak tasting ale that tasted watered down. She looked at Aleksandr as she admired him.
" I suppose so Sergeant, but first I need to teach you about the intricacies of your new sidearm... a plasma pistol is no trifling weapon... I present you with the MK VI Castigator pattern plasma pistol, a production run of but a hundred from the forge world of Rho Delphi. "
" Plasma pistols are a testament to imperial ingenuity, featuring a miniaturized and custom tooled onboard fusion reactor which essentially projects a micronized nova at a target, bound to a molecular gravitic core that dispenses the energy unidirectionally upon impact... all this to say, this pistol has enough power to melt through the side of a leman russ and defeat most patterns of power armor within a single shot... however, care must be exercised. Despite our advancements this is a notoriously unstable technology, the reactor onboard this variant is especially agitated giving it exceptional stopping power... you will be an unsuspecting menace to even the most well-armored foes, which you will inevitably have to face as time goes on. It has cooling systems to dissipate heat but you will have to use it carefully. "
Aleksandr leaned in with wide eyes, voice going low
" For if it overheats... you and your squad risk atomic annihilation. "
He leaned back, returning to a pleasant demeanor
" And you are an especially promising recruit, it will be lamentable if we lose you... so ahem... don't die... that's an order.
He added, patting Arpatia's helmet, clearly very proud of her.
" And Guardswoman... firstly, see to it that I am not mocked, and second, I have a new mission for you, one that will see you deployed further into enemy lines by Valkyrie. The Tau have proved most annoying as I learned they had been supplying the rebel factions that turned arms against us on your most recent mission... I want you... yes you and a catachan serving in our sabotage regiment... to infiltrate an enemy outpost, I believe this is where rogue traders and Tau conduct their business. You are to gain entry to their underground communications network and patch in an auspex to the augur node, this will allow us to intercept communication... that is the first part, it will require stealth... then you will make your way through the tunnel to their power infrastructure... a single well placed shot from the plasma pistol should see the job done... ofcourse... this will stir the hornet's nest, and they'll be upon you like flies... not to fret... by that point, the valkyrie gunships will be on their way... make your way out into the open and present at the LZ for extraction.
Aleksandr paused taking a drag off his smoking pipe
" This is a mission that requires tact, and you have shown talent in exercising tactical discretion, therefore you are trusted. You will need to exercise careful planning and strategy in this objective... compromise is not an option, help will not be coming if you are caught... but if you are discovered... you have my utmost sanction... TO BURN EVERYTHING TO THE GROUND ! TEACH THEM THE CONSEQUENCES OF CONSPIRING WITH THE XENO... and Arpatia
Once more Aleksandr leaned in, voice turning low, emphasizing seriousness
" See to it that I am not mocked. "
The sergeant was allowed to remain with the Lord General, despite being a much lower rank, it was obvious the soldiers enjoyed her morale boosting company as well, they had come to accept her as one of their own, she had earned her scars afterall.
"Well, that was a lotta words to just say "Here's a handgun"." I mean even Akatsuki has a handgun but still, it's not overly complicated.
Akatsuki Augus wrote:
"Well, that was a lotta words to just say "Here's a handgun"." I mean even Akatsuki has a handgun but still, it's not overly complicated.
" Your oration proves excessive insofar as to the purpose of corroborating yourself a jester except your best joke is to stand infront of a mirror and that has enough humor vested in it to cause the demise of a harlequin "
Aleksandr added, narrowing his eyes at the quipping one, nevertheless appreciated for adding comic flair.
Mathius Kothinto wrote:
"You get used to it when working here, Harkoth."
"Contradiction: I do not work here."
"Oh, please, I may not be fighting the same way you do, but I can hold my own, even if all I have is a pistol."
"Depends on what kind of pistol it is. If it's a Phosphor Serpenta like the one I have, then that can be quite effective against those who wish to blaspheme the Machine God within my auditory range."
She listened to him speak about her new firearm, which was exciting her a lot. She was ready to take it and examine the weapon. The weapon, itself, looked more reliable than her own laser pistol she kept on herself at all times. She heard him finish explaining about the weapon made her want it more even with the flaws. She wanted to now examine the weapon and make sure to keep it cleaned at all times. And keep the weapon inspected for any damage least she kills herself with the weapon. Hearing the briefing of the weapon made her extremely happy as she stood there quietly.
Her eyes was widen as well as she was about to gladly take the gun from him and use it to kill her enemies with it.
The fear of killing her entire squad and herself played in her head as she said, "Yes, Sir. I will personally maintain the gun."
She nodded in respect of him from his face returning to a more gentle demeanor. Which was rare for her to see. "Thank you, Sir. I will definitely make sure to not die. Ad Victoriam!" she said in salute as she knew she didn't want to die in an instant from her own firearm. She didn't take his orders lightly either.
She smiled when she had her head patted from him knowing that she had done something good for him to do that.
As she stood there, she listened to more briefing from him. 'I won't let anyone mock you,' she thought in her head as she stood there listening to him even further. With a simple nod, she said, "Sir, yes, sir. I will make sure I will not fail this mission. For the Emperor of Mankind," she said softly as she stared at him with the highest respect.
She knew stealth from her own universe. That's how she had alluded the police many times. As a rogue once, she could easily infiltrate their compound and make sure that everything goes well. "I will do more then just burn them to the ground. I will make them fear me every time they see me come into the battlefield," she said with a slight grin on her face.
"Sir, yes, Sir! No one mocks Lord General Aleksandr!" she said as she took a sit patting a sit next to herself. She wanted him to sit down with her so they could enjoy that recaf for once without being interrupted. She felt like she belonged here and not where she came from. Her whole life she felt out of place until she was shot into this universe. And she will make sure NO ONE MOCKED HIM. That would be dishonor to herself and to him. Finally she took the weapon as she examined the weapon with careful. Definitely something she didn't want to allow to blow up in front of her face and taking her entire squad with her. She actually admired it.
She looked at Harkoth as she wasn't sure. She knew it was a plasma pistol, and by the looks of it, it had enough firepower to incinerate her enemies where they stood.
Her eyes was widen as well as she was about to gladly take the gun from him and use it to kill her enemies with it.
The fear of killing her entire squad and herself played in her head as she said, "Yes, Sir. I will personally maintain the gun."
She nodded in respect of him from his face returning to a more gentle demeanor. Which was rare for her to see. "Thank you, Sir. I will definitely make sure to not die. Ad Victoriam!" she said in salute as she knew she didn't want to die in an instant from her own firearm. She didn't take his orders lightly either.
She smiled when she had her head patted from him knowing that she had done something good for him to do that.
As she stood there, she listened to more briefing from him. 'I won't let anyone mock you,' she thought in her head as she stood there listening to him even further. With a simple nod, she said, "Sir, yes, sir. I will make sure I will not fail this mission. For the Emperor of Mankind," she said softly as she stared at him with the highest respect.
She knew stealth from her own universe. That's how she had alluded the police many times. As a rogue once, she could easily infiltrate their compound and make sure that everything goes well. "I will do more then just burn them to the ground. I will make them fear me every time they see me come into the battlefield," she said with a slight grin on her face.
"Sir, yes, Sir! No one mocks Lord General Aleksandr!" she said as she took a sit patting a sit next to herself. She wanted him to sit down with her so they could enjoy that recaf for once without being interrupted. She felt like she belonged here and not where she came from. Her whole life she felt out of place until she was shot into this universe. And she will make sure NO ONE MOCKED HIM. That would be dishonor to herself and to him. Finally she took the weapon as she examined the weapon with careful. Definitely something she didn't want to allow to blow up in front of her face and taking her entire squad with her. She actually admired it.
She looked at Harkoth as she wasn't sure. She knew it was a plasma pistol, and by the looks of it, it had enough firepower to incinerate her enemies where they stood.
Magos Dominus Harkoth-937 wrote:
"Depends on what kind of pistol it is. If it's a Phosphor Serpenta like the one I have, then that can be quite effective against those who wish to blaspheme the Machine God within my auditory range."
The Phosphor Serpenta is a spectacular choice.
Aleksandr Von Drakenfell wrote:
Magos Dominus Harkoth-937 wrote:
"Depends on what kind of pistol it is. If it's a Phosphor Serpenta like the one I have, then that can be quite effective against those who wish to blaspheme the Machine God within my auditory range."
The Phosphor Serpenta is a spectacular choice.
Ami Arpatia wrote:
Aleksandr Von Drakenfell wrote:
Magos Dominus Harkoth-937 wrote:
"Depends on what kind of pistol it is. If it's a Phosphor Serpenta like the one I have, then that can be quite effective against those who wish to blaspheme the Machine God within my auditory range."
The Phosphor Serpenta is a spectacular choice.
No, she has a plasma pistol, the phosphor serpenta is another really cool weapon but Harkoths? presumably.
((wow, what are we having here?))
Xueqing was playing with her own heater.
Xueqing was playing with her own heater.
Aleksandr Von Drakenfell wrote:
Ami Arpatia wrote:
Aleksandr Von Drakenfell wrote:
Magos Dominus Harkoth-937 wrote:
"Depends on what kind of pistol it is. If it's a Phosphor Serpenta like the one I have, then that can be quite effective against those who wish to blaspheme the Machine God within my auditory range."
The Phosphor Serpenta is a spectacular choice.
No, she has a plasma pistol, the phosphor serpenta is another really cool weapon but Harkoths? presumably.
Ami Arpatia wrote:
She listened to him speak about her new firearm, which was exciting her a lot. She was ready to take it and examine the weapon. The weapon, itself, looked more reliable than her own laser pistol she kept on herself at all times. She heard him finish explaining about the weapon made her want it more even with the flaws. She wanted to now examine the weapon and make sure to keep it cleaned at all times. And keep the weapon inspected for any damage least she kills herself with the weapon. Hearing the briefing of the weapon made her extremely happy as she stood there quietly.
Her eyes was widen as well as she was about to gladly take the gun from him and use it to kill her enemies with it.
The fear of killing her entire squad and herself played in her head as she said, "Yes, Sir. I will personally maintain the gun."
She nodded in respect of him from his face returning to a more gentle demeanor. Which was rare for her to see. "Thank you, Sir. I will definitely make sure to not die. Ad Victoriam!" she said in salute as she knew she didn't want to die in an instant from her own firearm. She didn't take his orders lightly either.
She smiled when she had her head patted from him knowing that she had done something good for him to do that.
As she stood there, she listened to more briefing from him. 'I won't let anyone mock you,' she thought in her head as she stood there listening to him even further. With a simple nod, she said, "Sir, yes, sir. I will make sure I will not fail this mission. For the Emperor of Mankind," she said softly as she stared at him with the highest respect.
She knew stealth from her own universe. That's how she had alluded the police many times. As a rogue once, she could easily infiltrate their compound and make sure that everything goes well. "I will do more then just burn them to the ground. I will make them fear me every time they see me come into the battlefield," she said with a slight grin on her face.
"Sir, yes, Sir! No one mocks Lord General Aleksandr!" she said as she took a sit patting a sit next to herself. She wanted him to sit down with her so they could enjoy that recaf for once without being interrupted. She felt like she belonged here and not where she came from. Her whole life she felt out of place until she was shot into this universe. And she will make sure NO ONE MOCKED HIM. That would be dishonor to herself and to him. Finally she took the weapon as she examined the weapon with careful. Definitely something she didn't want to allow to blow up in front of her face and taking her entire squad with her. She actually admired it.
She looked at Harkoth as she wasn't sure. She knew it was a plasma pistol, and by the looks of it, it had enough firepower to incinerate her enemies where they stood.
Her eyes was widen as well as she was about to gladly take the gun from him and use it to kill her enemies with it.
The fear of killing her entire squad and herself played in her head as she said, "Yes, Sir. I will personally maintain the gun."
She nodded in respect of him from his face returning to a more gentle demeanor. Which was rare for her to see. "Thank you, Sir. I will definitely make sure to not die. Ad Victoriam!" she said in salute as she knew she didn't want to die in an instant from her own firearm. She didn't take his orders lightly either.
She smiled when she had her head patted from him knowing that she had done something good for him to do that.
As she stood there, she listened to more briefing from him. 'I won't let anyone mock you,' she thought in her head as she stood there listening to him even further. With a simple nod, she said, "Sir, yes, sir. I will make sure I will not fail this mission. For the Emperor of Mankind," she said softly as she stared at him with the highest respect.
She knew stealth from her own universe. That's how she had alluded the police many times. As a rogue once, she could easily infiltrate their compound and make sure that everything goes well. "I will do more then just burn them to the ground. I will make them fear me every time they see me come into the battlefield," she said with a slight grin on her face.
"Sir, yes, Sir! No one mocks Lord General Aleksandr!" she said as she took a sit patting a sit next to herself. She wanted him to sit down with her so they could enjoy that recaf for once without being interrupted. She felt like she belonged here and not where she came from. Her whole life she felt out of place until she was shot into this universe. And she will make sure NO ONE MOCKED HIM. That would be dishonor to herself and to him. Finally she took the weapon as she examined the weapon with careful. Definitely something she didn't want to allow to blow up in front of her face and taking her entire squad with her. She actually admired it.
She looked at Harkoth as she wasn't sure. She knew it was a plasma pistol, and by the looks of it, it had enough firepower to incinerate her enemies where they stood.
" You know Arpatia "
Aleksandr paused as a servitor poured out two cups of recaf, he customarily offered her the cup first before taking his own.
" It seems only yesterday that I was a commissar on the frontlines, there battlefield is indeed a treacherous place... I have executed many a guardsman for insubordination but you... you are certainly not one of them. Sometimes they saw the deed done themselves, upon the subject of plasma weapons, one time I was crammed in a chimera with a penal unit, you know, scum... condemned to military servitude on a tyranid infested hellscape... naturally, I was put in charge of that rowdy bunch to keep discipline in check... but by the light of the astronomican, that day, someone in the armory had the ill-construed thought of providing one of those men with a plasma gun... oh... what a mistake that was, so there I was, barking commands in a chimera and I hear these blue flashes, naturally our gunner had been ripped out turret and all by a Trygon... hrn... horrible things those are... with the teeth and the claws and the mandibles... LIKE DEADLY MANTISES... CROSSED WITH A SNAKE. "
The general suddenly stood up from his chair tossing the cup in his hand, the other moving instinctively to his chainsword before he came to his senses, he probably had a flashback.
" Hr-Ahem... pardon me, sometimes the fervor returns... I did not always want a position of office, as you can see, I am more accustomed to the field of honor... anyhow, so the top half of our vehicle is missing and this guardsman, whom I ordered to use the assault bolter, props up the side and starts taking out tyranid after tyranid with his plasma rifle, I suppose the maddening rush of power got to him, but a plasma weapon is ill-suited to mass extermination, not for virtue of a lack of efficacy but the inherent danger vested in the weapon... I see the cooling ribs turn a bright white and the thing shake in his hands and scrambled out the vehicle as fast as I could... not two seconds later... an explosion what could have taken a hive block... several days later I found the back door of that chimera, strewn upon a bridge... it was a spectacular distance away from our last position... ah... the good old days... sometimes I miss being amongst the guardsmen, shortlived as most were.
He added lighting his smoking pipe
" I never quite had the time nor the luxury to inquire as to your background, the planet you hail from... what was it like ? did you know or revere the Imperial creed and how did you fare on that planet?
((meow-))
Noticing the environment, the girl raised her head and gazed around.
Noticing the environment, the girl raised her head and gazed around.
Lin Xueqing wrote:
((meow-))
Noticing the environment, the girl raised her head and gazed around.
Noticing the environment, the girl raised her head and gazed around.
HEAD !?
The general would proceed to cut a slice of cake and offer it to Lin, as a peace offering
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