Chương 9: Chapter Eight - Gumption

Octavia ran for all she was worth down the corridor, thinking... several things at the same time, actually. She was cursing herself, cursing the heathen genestealers rushing after her... and secretly blessing Mother Daydris for forcing all of the Novitiates into doing so much cardio. It was the only thing keeping her ahead of the monsters. The corridor ahead of her stretched out for a long ways, with more forking off to the sides.

They were entirely unoccupied, and dangerously dark, as though someone had gone around shutting off the lumen. From the splashes of blood on the ground, she had a good idea who was responsible for that.

"Take the next left." She hiccuped at the voice in her head, then shot past the next left and instead spun into the next corridor to the right. She only slowed down long enough to look behind her, to see who had spoken, but other than a dozen monsters a ways down the passage, there was no one.

"Interesting. I knew you wouldn't do it, but it's interesting to see your obstinacy in action."

"Okay, voice in my head lady," Octavia said between pants.

"Please shut up, I'm dying."

"Noted. Refused." The voice had appeared a few minutes ago, and she had been working hard to ignore it ever since. At first she had hoped it might be someone there to save her, but the voice wasn't the Emperor (she imagined he had more of a gravelly baritone) and it probably wasn't a saintess. She found that the corridor had a slight bend to it, with some barricades built into the floor. The guard station was unoccupied. Still, she vaulted over the barricade, then spun around and brought her gun to bear.

It was a standard issue lasrifle. The casing was a pale blue, instead of the usual guardsman green, but other than that, it was as stock as it came. Octavia settled in, then tried to keep her breathing even.

"Aim for centre of mass. A headshot may be immediately fatal, but these aren't particularly strong as far as genestealers go."

"Shut up, please," she muttered.

"Noted. Also refused." She would have time to freak out later. The dozen genestealers that had come after her came barrelling around the corner, and she pulled the trigger... which did nothing.

"What?"

"Safety. Left side. Press forward."

"Saint's saggy tits!" she cursed. That would earn her a lashing if Mother Daydris heard it. She flicked the safety off, then aimed down the length of the gun and fired. Beams of red light cut across the darkened corridors. The first two, miraculously, struck a genestealer in the chest and head, sending it tumbling down to the ground. The rest of her spray, however, had more mixed results. Octavia fired a second burst, then stood up and ran, flinging the gun around to her back.

Kills Confirmed: 2x Genestealers New Point Total: 120 She blinked, and the screen disappeared, but the words lingered for a moment.

"What kind of sorcery is that?" she asked.

"Technology, actually."

"Shut up!"

"Refused." She made it to the end of the next bend, turned around, grabbed her gun again, and fired another burst from the hip. Kills Confirmed: 1x Genestealer New Point Total: 130 There were still far too many of them, and they were getting close. She almost laughed when the front of the group stumbled on the corpse of the one she'd nailed. That wouldn't slow them forever, though. Cursing some more, she sprinted down the corridor, then cursed some more. It was a dead end.

The bulkhead doors had been lowered about fifty metres down, which under the circumstances was a very understandable thing to do, only now she was stuck. She still ran to the end, hoping to find a console or something, a side door? But no, there was nothing, just grey plate and bulkheads all around and the helmet of a voidsman-at-arms on the ground nearby.

She turned, aimed down her gun, and fired, two bursts, three, then the gun hissed and she tossed it to the ground in a way that would have their quartermaster hanging her from the ceiling by the gun's strap if she saw. Octavia pulled her sword out, then squared herself. Her wild shots had injured a few of them, but there were... she counted nine of them. Men, mostly, in dirty clothes and scraps, with elongated foreheads and the occasional extra limb or two.

Textbook standard genestealers, or at least mutant cultists. Her greatest advantage was that only a few of them were armed, and that mostly meant lengths of pipe. She looked at her sword. It was a bit big, the guard marked by a large skull, but it was otherwise a standard and rather plain sword. She was alright with these. Her trainers and sisters always said that she was fast. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

"I wish I had a flamer," she said.

"Noted."

"Oh, will you shut--" New Purchase: Tier One Flamer Weapons Points Reduced to: 80 New Purchase: Saintly Retributor - Micro Thermolytic Projector Points Reduced to: 30"Catch." Octavia dropped her sword as something appeared in front of her, already arcing her way. She caught it and stumbled back.

"What the--" she began, then she looked down at the thing and couldn't help but stare. It was a gun. A relatively small gun, sure, but a gun, with filigree, and a ribbon-like design that wrapped around the barrel, and a padded handle.

"They are approaching."

"Emperor protect me," she muttered. She was going to die anyway, so might as well see what this was all about before she went. Holding the gun out with two hands, she aimed it towards the incoming enemy, then started when the top of the gun projected a small floating reticle box, complete with glowing wings and a cone-like visual that showed where the spray would go. She didn't have time to wonder much more, because the enemy were approaching fast. She squeezed the trigger.

Immediately, two more wings sprang out from the end of the gun, forming a sort of shield before her. Then light. She winced and instantly felt the skin of her face drying up from the heat. Still, the beam of light melted through the first three genestealers it touched. She swung the gun around, slowly panning it across the next six, and dipping a little to catch one that tried to dodge. Then she let go of the trigger. There was a line of glowing heat marring the bulkheads across from her.

The air was filling with the scent of freshly cooked meat and burning cloth, and the genestealers had been turned into nine distinct, still-burning heaps on the ground.

"Emperor's throne," she muttered. Octavia looked down at the gun, then hefted it. It felt right. Her entire life, throughout her training, she had been handed weapons sized for her sisters, or for the standard Imperial Guardsman. Guns with large grips meant to accommodate gloved men. This gun felt perfect. It had some heft, but not too much, and the grip was moulded to her hand. She eyed it, and yeah, it was, literally. The grooves were exactly as long as her fingers, subtly forcing her to hold it correctly.

It was the same for the foregrip. The gun itself was a matte black, though the outer casing was the bluish turquoise of the Order of the Shattered Glass. A steel ribbon ran the length of the gun, pretty, embellishing, and somehow not in the way. It had her name carved into it in a deep, Gothic script. OCTAVIA. She was pulled out of her staring by another prompt. Kills Confirmed: 9x Genestealers New Point Total: 110"What is this?" she asked.

"It's a micro thermolytic projector. It creates a beam of heat specifically designed to undo carbon-bonds. An appropriate short-ranged weapon for the interior of a ship."

"No, I meant... okay, that does sound great, heh, but I mean..." She shook her head, then looked around again.

"Who are you?"

"I am Vyper, a Protectorate AI. Suffice to say that I am a Protector of humanity, and I have chosen you to be one of my champions. I believe that, given the right tools and incentives, you, Octavia, may rise to become a powerful defender of mankind."

"Like a saint? Saint Octavia's got a nice ring to it." Plus Palatine Sister Androsa would shit tacks if that happened.

"There are three Saint Octavias in the Imperium records that I have access to."

"Wait, really?" she asked.

"Have you considered paying attention during your lessons?"

"No?"

"I see. I will take note of this." Octavia shook herself.

"So, are you a heretic? A xeno?"

"By all of your definitions, yes. I am what a dogmatic member of any Order of the Sisters of Battle would consider a foe." She glared at nothing.

"You're just telling me this?"

"I may be non-human in origin, and I don't care for your religious beliefs, but that doesn't make me a liar. Besides, you're stuck with me now. If you request it, I will provide you with knowledge, equipment, and opportunities. If you need weapons, earn enough points killing the enemies of mankind and I will provide. Earn enough, and I will provide you with more. Weapons, ships, infrastructure. All of a quality far surpassing anything you have, or are likely to ever have, access to."

"You know, there are stories about temptation and stuff in our classes," Octavia said.

"As previously established, you weren't paying attention to those." Octavia couldn't resist the grin that spread across her face.

"So I wasn't! Hey... can I get power armour?"

"What colour do you want it in?"