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Female Space Marines

2015-11-20T20:13:26Z

2602:301:773A:2120:F4AA:9662:9D47:7BCB:

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[[Image:beakiegal.jpg|thumb|right|Guaranteed to garner at least 100 replies.]]

There is no tactic more effective for [[RAGE|enraging]] a die-hard [[Space Marines|SPESS MEHREENS]] fanboy than discussing/drawing their [[Rule 63]] companion, '''Female Space Marines'''. Not to be confused with [[Sisters of Battle]], the canonical equivalent to Space Marines and also armed with bolters and chainswords, but ''Space Marine'' Space Marines of the Adeptus Astartes, you know, the hypermuscular ones with [[Pauldrons]]. According to [[Games Workshop]] [[canon]], the procedures that are used to create a Space Marine only work properly on male subjects, rendering female Marines impossible; however, masturbators on the internet have not allowed this to deter them. Sometimes it is pointed out that back in the [[Rogue Trader]] days, Games Workshop did briefly produce two power-armoured female models, but they were changed to "Female Adventurers in Power Armour" and were never meant to represent female Marines. Considering this is from Games Workshop, who [[Squats|routinely violates their own canon in subsequent editions]], fanbase be damned, take this as you will.

It's worth noting, though, that Games Workshop hasn't deterred /tg/ (or indeed, the [[Black Library]] writers) from coming up with ways to potentially allow for them, even with Space Marines being exclusively male being one of the rare things they've kept consistent. This is because, as was brought up in [[Daemonette|previous]] [[Monstergirls|articles]], little gets between a man and his fapbait.

==The canon part==

According to [[fluff]], the [[Space Marine]] creation process only works on males because "the [[gene-seed]] zygotes are keyed to male hormones and tissue types" ([[God-Emperor of Mankind|and presumably also Big Boss' superior dominant genes]]). This means the process was designed exclusively for males and simply will not work on women.

From an in-universe standpoint, it was mentioned in one of the Horus Heresy books that [[Malcador the Sigillite]] had suggested making one or two of the Primarchs female, half-jokingly saying that it might help to defuse competition between them. The Emperor was not amused by this at all and insisted that it simply couldn't be done. (And really, who wants to try to argue with him about it?)

In canon terms, the closest female equivalent to a Space Marine would be the [[Sisters of Battle|bolter bitches]], being an all-female force in power armor.

==What would a female Space Marine look like if they could exist?==
[[File:Silver Skull.jpg|right|thumb|Tina likes long walks on the beach and slaying the Emperor's foes.]]
Obviously, in the land of Rule 63 they are amazingly hot (and would totally do you), but in dark and gritty fluff-land where they would be optimised for combat rather than jacking off, they would probably have very few notable female features left following surgery and genetic fuckery; they'd have very similar musculature to males, most likely would lack breasts (due to both the removal of sex hormones and the trimming of any "fat" that would make armor uncomfortable), their body shape would only differ very slightly to a male's because of their enhanced skeletal structure, and all of this would be compounded by the fact that Space Marines are renowned for wearing fuckhuge suits of armour that obscure most of their physical features anyway. A female Space Marine with her helmet on would look like a regular Space Marine.

[[Alpharius|This means all Space Marines with their helmets on might be female ''right now'' and you wouldn't even know.]]

[[rage|FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUU-]]

They'd also be completely sterile. Like, more-so than the males; no sex hormones means no ovulation, assuming they even let her keep those ovaries. Progenoid glands would still play a vital role in gene-seed replication.

TL;DR they would be females modified to be as much like males as possible, leading one to ask what sex-starved Inquisitor authorized the monumentous amount of resource waste that such a project would represent.

==[[Sindri|SSSSSIIIIIINNNNNNDDDDRRRRRRIIIII!!]]==

Unexpected salvation - there are indeed (99.46% possible) Female Space Marines!...in The [[Eye Of Terror]]. Well out of it too - see, due to the nature of [[Chaos]], mutations are often a fact of life. Some desired, some not. What if one hulked out, burning, warped Chaos Space Marine secretly wishes he was the cute little girl who got flowers? Who smiled with joy? Who was so sweet?

What if his gods are listening? If the nature of Chaos is what it is to any extent, there is a chance his deity will bestow him with what he has always wanted. Though of course, he could just as easily get an extra tentacle arm, or get mutated into [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]] - such is the nature of Chaos. [[Slaanesh]] especially grants this as a matter of routine, and its a safe bet to make that quite a lot of the [[Emperor's Children]] men are actually now women, or rather hermaphs. Such is the will of Slaanesh.

This was ''confirmed'' in one of the earlier Chapter Approved articles - one that re-introduced mounted [[Daemonette]]s - in which a Governer-Militant fighting a Slaanesh warband mused that there were (apparently female) creatures that [[Heresy|were once Space Marines, but no longer]]. Considering Chaos can cause [[Chaos Spawn|that which must never be named]], is anyone surprised by this?

==[[Honsou]], You Sick Fuck==

We know that you among the fans, despite all our attempts to dissaude you, want cute FEMALE SPHESS MAHREENS! And there is good news - technically, there ARE Female Space Marines IN OFFICIAL LORE. The catch? Yes there is a catch. And this one is the worst.

Your FSM is a bloated, twisted, undying, insane, mutated pregnant mother-slave only alive because she's in the Eye of Terror.

You see, [[Honsou]] of the [[Iron Warriors]], in an effort to squeeze new MAHREENS into the ranks without having to pay that other sick fuck [[Fabius Bile]] for clones, created a system of hideousness and sadness that pushes [[grimdark]] to a whole new level. He invented the [[Daemonculaba]], a system whereby a woman is chained and fed stuff which will morph her and her womb into something that was never meant to be. A boy is then (yes, a child), jammed, shoved or cut INTO the vagina and stays there for a while. When his time is ready, he, now XBAWKS HUEG and STRONG, will have to [[rip and tear|rip, tear]], or otherwise push his way out of his adoptive mother's womb/vagina. When he emerges, he will either be a skinless mutant abomination, or will emerge as a fully functional (albeit skinless) Chaos Space Marine in a fraction of the time, with all his growth stages and bionics and gene-seed already taken care of. How? [[Meme|It's fucking science]].

This goes back to our Female Space Marine - you see, while she was being morphed and changed, [[Dark Mechanicus]] Biologos hereteks worked on her body, implanting gene-seed and making her physically a Female Space Marine, even if the form is rather off. Thus, her womb can turn children as well into Space Marines by having her womb 'grow' the required organs and stages directly into their bodies in a fraction of the time, days and weeks instead of years. Thankfully for the entire universe, this horror was destroyed before Honsou realized he could stick girls in there as well, and get double the recruits, and stumble upon the secret to true Female Space Marines.

==RAEG==

RAGE is generated by the tactic in two distinct ways; either the neckbeard(s) assume that the creator of the work in question is unaware of the Space Marine fluff, and rage about his or her ignorance; failing that, it becomes clear that they are well aware of the fluff regarding these matters and willingly chose to disregard it, sending the poor neckbeards into fits of spastic rage that anyone would dare deliberately defile the sacrosanct canon of Games Workshop's masterpiece.

[[troll|Still, the aforementioned creator will just ignore him.]]

==A slightly more reasonable answer==

The problem really is one of terminology. Women can wear power armour, certainly. Women can, through steroids, incessant bodybuilding, high protein diet, and a little genetic modding, be as buff and rocking as a space marine. But what really makes a space marine a space marine is all of the extra genetically-engineered organs and DNA and whatnot cloned from the Primarchs and implanted in the right way, which is impossible for women for reasons the Emperor refused to explain. The closest thing to an exception in the fluff is any experiment involving Fabius Bile, unless the topic is Honsou of the Iron Warriors. If Fabius Bile is doing it then its kinda more likely that he'd make you a dude with titties and a weird daemon vagina than an actual female space marine, and he will do this by rebirthing you (not reincarnation) inside a bloated woman's uterus, and it should be noted that the said woman is effectively lobotomized. Because he's a swell guy like that. And even if he did make you a female space marine for reals, she still wouldn't be a space marine, just a weird, mutilated, chaos infused thing that approximates a space marine but can never truly be one.

Worth noting, however, that given that Bile's experimented on damn-near everything (including the entire civilian populations of several planets) at some point or another for his attempts to duplicate the methods for creating new space marines, there's ample evidence to suggest that [[/d/|he's tried it at least once]]. Fucking [[Slaanesh]].

==See Also==

*[[Golden Aquilas]]: /tg/ homebrew chapter, designed to cause as much RAEG and accusations of derp as possible.
*[[Space Marines]]: Rule 63 equivalent of female space...Wait.
*[[Sisters of Battle]]: the warrior nuns of the Imperium that typically are actually armed with bolters and chainswords and whom might be construed to some reasonable extent as being the 'female space marines' of Warhammer 40,000
*[[Stormcast Eternals]], GW's [[Warhammer Fantasy|Fantasy]] Space Marines in [[Age of Sigmar]], which can be any species and gender.
*[[Samus]]: How about a female Primarch?

==Gallery==
<center><gallery>
Image:Sisters of anger2.png|And if you think this is bad, once a month they all gain Frenzy.
Image:1227373581722.gif|Lol. Why u mad though?
Image:Nidsrape.jpg|Brother-sister Igpay Atinlay boldly distracts the Tyranid foe.
File:Love is a Battlefield by blazbaros.png|An almost perfect example of a female space marine, complete with the typical bulky space marine form.
Image:spessbitch.jpg|Not in fact [[Horo]].
File:Female_warhammer_40k_imperium_model_--_100D0212.jpg|She'd be even scarier if she took off that mask
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Gabs.jpg|DYKE OUTTA FUCKING NOWHERE!
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_model_--_Female_Warrior_Jayne.jpg|Your eyes should start bleeding right about now.
File:Female_space_marine_warhammer_40k_--_Ingunna_Daughter_of_Russ_by_Greymark.jpg|PMS BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!
File:1k heresy.jpg|<s>Not</s> [[Just as planned]]. Now you know why Tzeentch doesn't invite Slaanesh to his birthday parties anymore.
File:Primarchs as teen girls.png| The Emperor made the Primarchs to be the greatest human warriors of all time, but [[Warhammer_High|even they were not immune]] to [[Rule 63]].
File:Femprah_by_Mr-Culexus.jpg|She was not amused by this development.
File:Saber ultra marine.jpg|Don't piss off Mama Smurf. Your genitals will not survive.
File:Chaos saber.jpg|Somehow still less of a failure than the real Abaddon. Of course! Her arms haven't fallen off!
</gallery></center>

[[Category:Imperial]]

The Tales of the Emperasque: Part Five

2015-11-19T02:23:03Z

2602:301:773A:2120:F4AA:9662:9D47:7BCB:

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''Continued from [[The Tales of the Emperasque: Part Four]]''.

==0-019-001-M42==
The two Inquisitors and the Supreme Grand Master of the Grey Knights had been in conference with one another for hours, wandering the massive throne room of Terra deep in conversation.

They agreed on little, despite their official ties, Draigo thinking that it would be wiser to confront the Emperor before doing anything drastic, Haldebrandt and Valentine claiming that it would be wiser to leave before the Emperor returned, to present their case to the Inquisition. Finally, after almost eight hours of debate, in which the two were constantly surrounded by working, bickering, bustling techpriests and Custodes, who tried not to look like they were eavesdropping, Valentine called for a decision.

“Brothers, the Emperor has clearly been in concert with a daemon, and whether or not we know for a fact that He’s been possessed, it seems we can at least agree that he was dabbling in a power that he couldn’t fully control. Why else would he use the creature’s form instead of his own?” Valentine asked reasonably.

Haldebrandt nodded. “Master Draigo, your experience with battling beasts of the Warp exceeds my own, but my station as a member of Ordo Malleus affords me some insight into the workings of the warp. Do you not agree that the possibility exists that the Emperor is no longer in control?”

“Of course I do, Inquisitor,” Draigo growled, his patience worn thin. “What of it?”

“Well, then, let us agree.” Valentine leaned forward conspiratorially. “Master, would you be willing to accompany us to our void station so that we may decide what to do next?”

“<big>LET ME SAVE YOU THE TROUBLE</big>,” a psychic voice said. The Custodians in the room took a knee at once, ten thousand gold-clad warriors kneeling as one. The Techpriests followed suit, as Draigo and the Inquisitors looked around, confused.

With a CRACK of displaced air, a purple-shrouded being appeared in the middle of the room, where the Golden Throne was being disassembled. The massive form of the Emperor strode forth. “<big>CUSTODES, MY LOYAL GUARD, STAND DOWN. MAGI, AS YOU WERE.</big>” The gold and red-coated workers scurried back to their tasks, some with sly grins to one another. The Emperor stopped mere meters from the two awestruck Inquisitors, and the incredibly unnerved Draigo.

“<big>GENTLEMEN. WHAT WERE YOU DISCUSSING IN MY THRONE ROOM?</big>”

Valentine was the only one who managed to keep a straight face. “My Lord God, we were discussing Lord Draigo’s errand.” Draigo shot Valentine a stunned look, but said nothing.”

“<big>OH? DO TELL, MASTER GREY KNIGHT.</big>” Draigo licked his lips.

“Ah…my Lord God, as I’m sure you’re aware, Malcador the Sigilite enacted something called the Term-”

“<big>THE TERMINUS DECREE. YES. WHICH I’M ALL BUT CERTAIN MALCADOR DIDN’T WANT YOU TO INVOKE UNLESS THE IMPERIUM IS LITERALLY FALLING TO CHAOS AT THAT VERY MOMENT.</big>”

Draigo felt a bead of sweat run down his neck. “That is correct, my Lord God.”

“<big>SO, WHAT BRINGS YOU HERE?</big>” the Emperor asked flatly. The Custodes nearby smirked, but went about their myriad tasks.

“My…my Lord God, I was told by the High Lords that you had absorbed a daemon. I had to avoid risk,” Draigo said, trying to regain his nerves.

The Emperor would have none of it. “<big>YOU AVOIDED RISK BY INVOKING THE TERMINUS DECREE. LET ME LET YOU IN ON A LITTLE SECRET, KALDOR; THE TERMINUS DECREE WOULD HAVE LED YOU TO COME BEFORE ME SO THAT I COULD HAVE USED YOUR NEMESIS PIKE TO KILL MYSELF AND TAKE MY CHANCES WITH BEING REBORN. CAN YOU PERHAPS UNDERSTAND MY DISAPPROVAL THAT YOU TOOK SUCH A STEP WHEN THE IMPERIUM WASN’T IN ANY ACTUAL DANGER OF COLLAPSE?</big>”

Much to Draigo’s relief, Haldebrandt spoke up. “My Lord God, the High Lords are not a particularly truthful bunch, and when they said that you had defeated a daemon that had appeared in the Throne room, it beggared the imagination. How could a daemon appear here, in the most heavily guarded place in the Imperium?”

“<big>BECAUSE I SPECIFICALLY SUMMONED IT, YOU TWIT</big>,” the Emperor roared disdainfully. “<big>AND AN INQUISITOR SHOULD KNOW BETTER THAN TO SUBVERT MY WILL.</big>”

Valentine’s jar dropped. “Subvert? My Lord God, what are you talking about?”

“<big>YOU AND THE OTHER RADICALS OF ORDO MALLEUS AND EVEN HERETICUS SUMMON DAEMONS ALL THE TIME, DESPITE MY ORDER AGAINST THE PRACTICE OF SORCERY STILL STANDING. I SUMMONED A DAEMON ONCE IN FIFTY THOUSAND YEARS, YOU, SIEUR VALENTINE, HAVE DONE IT FOUR TIMES IN THE LAST CENTURY. AT WHAT POINT DID YOU DECIDE THAT MY LAWS WERE TO BE SO EASILY CAST ASIDE?</big>”

Valentine was openly sweating now, and unconsciously rubbed his hands together. “Ah…my Lord God, I assure you, all we have done is for the betterment of the Imperium, of mankind.”

“<big>WHAT I DO IS FOR THE BETTERMENT OF MANKIND, AS ITS LEADER. AS ITS SERVANTS, YOUR PLACE IS NOT TO DECIDE THAT THE LAWS I ENACT ARE TO BE DISCARDED WHEN THEY BECOME INCONVENIENT.</big>”

Draigo slowly crossed his arms. “Why was I not informed of this?”

Valentine turned to Draigo, his face beading with sweat. “Lord Draigo, we can discuss that later.”

“<big>THEY DIDN’T TELL YOU BECAUSE YOU WOULD HAVE OBJECTED, LORD DRAIGO.</big>”

Valentine took a desperate step forward. “My Lord God, I beg of you, do not-”

The Emperor turned his attention back to the Grey Knight, who was changing colors at an impressive pace. “<big>DRAIGO, YOUR ACTIONS WERE INAPPROPRIATE, BUT I DO NOT THINK THEY MERIT PUNISHMENT. WHAT VERY WELL MAY, HOWEVER, IS THE STORY LOGAN GRIMNIR TELLS ME ABOUT YOUR AND THE INQUISITION’S ACTIONS ON ARMAGEDDON. STERILIZING THREE PLANETS BECAUSE THEY MIGHT HAVE LEARNED YOU EXIST? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? WE ARE HUMANITY’S GUIDES AND LEADERS, NOT THAT WHICH THEY FIGHT.</big>”

“That policy is abandoned, my Lord God,” Draigo hastened to explain, “and if it was Grimnir telling you, he probably neglected to mention that he’s held a grudge against us ever since then.”

“<big>WHICH HE WAS WELL WITHIN HIS RIGHTS TO DO</big>,” the Emperor roared, angrily, his psychic and auditory voice rising. “<big>YOU KILLED HONEST, UNTAINTED CITIZENS AND SOLDIERS OF MY IMPERIUM BECAUSE YOU THOUGHT PRESERVING YOUR OWN SECRECY WAS MORE IMPORTANT. YOUR ARROGANCE AT ASSUMING THAT THE GREY KNIGHTS SHOULD REMAIN A SECRET AFTER NINE THOUSAND YEARS OF COMBAT ACTIONS IS APPALLING. I CREATED THE INQUISITION TO ACT AS THE PUBLIC FACE OF MY WILL. I CREATED THE GREY KNIGHTS TO ACT AS THE CLOSED FIST OF THE IMPERIUM, TO STAVE OFF CHAOS AND WYRDS.</big>”

“But…my Lord God, were the Knights not to remain a secret?” Draigo asked in mounting horror.

“<big>OF COURSE THEY WERE, DRAIGO, BUT NOT AT THE COST OF OVER ONE HUNDRED BILLION INNOCENT LIVES!</big>” the Emperor roared. “<big>WE SEEK TO PRESERVE HUMANITY WITHOUT COSTING IT ITS SOUL, AND YOUR FOOLISH POLICIES DEFEATED THAT PURPOSE.</big>” He turned to the pair of Inquisitors, who immediately stiffened under his disapproving glare. “<big>YOU TWO SUMMONING DAEMONS, THE KNIGHTS MURDERING BILLIONS…ORDO MALLEUS HAS DISAPPOINTED ME IMMENSELY. I THINK, PERHAPS, THE WORST PART IS THAT BOTH THE INQUISITION AND THE GREY KNIGHTS DID NOT TELL ME THIS, EVEN THOUGH SOMETHING OF SUCH IMPORTANCE SHOULD HAVE BEEN TOLD TO ME LONG AGO. THAT STRONGLY SUGGESTS THAT YOU KNEW I WOULD DISAPPROVE IF I HAD KNOWN. YOU CONCEALED THIS FROM ME.</big>”

Valentine formally took a knee, his stomach churning. “My Lord God, please, forgive us our trespass.”

“<big>NO. RETURN TO YOUR VOID STATION. NOW.</big>” The Emperor turned from them, skewering Draigo with his malevolent stare. “<big>DRAIGO, YOUR ACTIVATION OF THE TERMINUS DECREE IS SUSPENDED INDEFINITELY. RETURN TO TITAN. I WILL VISIT YOU ALL LATER. IN THE INTERIM, ONE OF MY SONS REQUIRES MY ATTENTION.”</big> With a CRACK and a burst of purple mist, He was gone.

On the balcony of the Medical Temple of Craftworld Ulthwe, Robute Guilliman stood, his hands on the railing, feeling the artificial breeze on his face. The wind stung his still-bruised neck, but he reveled in it. His experience had been bizarre; one moment, he had been sitting on the throne of Macragge, surrounded by worried Ultramarines, the next, he had been tied to a table, his armor removed, and an Eldar Warlock with her hands on his throat. After a few seconds of wacky misunderstandings, a Farseer and a Vindicare Assassin, of all people, had approached him and explained what was going on, and that Emperor Himself had brought him here.

Now, he was alive again, free, his traitorous brother’s poison gone from him, while his father was on the way to see him again. The Vindicare had respectfully taken him aside and informed him of the Emperor’s monstrous appearance, which the Eldar had confirmed. Robute found it difficult to believe that the Emperor he had fought beside so many times would have stooped to such a level, but there was a part of him that loved the idea of His return…even if there would be a few changes.

The Vindicare’s presence had been a shock, but the Eldar had hastened to explain that he was on an extended, informal loan. They were obviously lying, but he was still grateful enough not to press the matter.
The Farseer, Taldeer, had told him that the Emperor was coming back to see him in person, and would arrive within an hour. She was off with the other Farseers, in fact, preparing for his arrival.

Naturally enough, the story had rung false to him at first, but the Eldar had been fervent in their claims, and the Assassin, LIIVI (Roboute didn’t even know they had names) had sworn them to be true. They had even shown him, in their own smug way, an intercepted Astropath communiqué from Terra alerting the Imperium to remain calm and, essentially, roll with the punches.

Roboute had been stunned that even the aristocracy seemed to believe that the Emperor was a living God. Hadn’t that been a facet of the Imperial Truth? That there were no gods at all, and the Emperor was simply a very powerful human?

It seemed times had not changed for the better since his laceration from Fulgrim. Fulgrim…the Ultramarine tightened his grip on the bannister. That traitorous son of a bitch had damn near killed him last time they had met. When his strength returned…he would make Fulgrim pay dearly.

==4-021-001-M42==
Forgefather He’stan of the Salamanders stood at the edge of his chambers, gazing out at the planet below. The Chalice of Fire, which he had made his home once he had been relieved of command of 4th Company, was slowly orbiting Prometheus. The planet was unusually settled, for once. The moon of Nocturne was at its farthest from the earthquake-wracked planet, and the weather was such that vast crops could be planted and harvested quickly in the rich, volcanic soil.

The world had received, naturally, the news of the Emperor’s return. Emotions had ranged from horror to ecstasy, but He’stan knew that only secondhand. He had been off in another ship, trying to track down one of the lost Artefacts of Vulkan when the news hit.

The planet below had been in an uproar when he returned, much like the rest of the galaxy. Chapter Master Tu’Shan had greeted him, urgently requesting that he remove himself to the Chalice of Fire to prepare for the Emperor’s personal arrival. Indeed, it seemed that the Raven Guard, Black Templars, and Dark Angels had already been visited by the Emperor in person, and to a lesser and more perplexing extent, so had the Ultramarines.

If Tu’Shan had been expecting an argument from He’Stan on that point, he was quickly surprised: He’Stan had been thrilled at the chance. His return was not coincidental: he had found an Artefact.

He turned from the viewport and reverently lifted the Song of Entropy from its cradle, slowly turning it in his hands. There was no risk of damaging it, of course, made as it was of adamantium, but even he was overcome a bit by the awe of being the Forgefather who recovered an Artefact.

The Song of Entropy was a fitting name for it. It looked at first to be a normal Power Fist, but it clearly wasn’t. Its impact hand had been removed, leaving only the powered portion of the gauntlet. In the place of the actual hand itself, a pair of tiny sonic disruptors had been placed, much like those mounted on the Titan Killer Ordinatus Mars.

The device was as heavy as a Power First, but could blast apart the hull of a tank with a single shot, though He’Stan suspected that its tight focus would make it useless against groups of infantry in good cover and dispersal.

He had informed the rest of the Chapter, and even in the tumult of the Emperor’s bizarre means of return, they had rejoiced as one, though each and every one was freshly returned from Armageddon. The chapter had taken heinous losses fighting off the Orks, though the planet was still in Imperial hands, and Tu’Shan had told He’Stan quietly that the whole planet held them now in the same regard that they had held Commander Dante in the second War for Armageddon: reverence and awe. The Salamanders were wise enough not to exploit this, of course.

The Chapter Master’s voice spoke from He’Stan’s personal vox. “Forgefather, are you there? There is news.” He’Stan hurriedly placed the Song back in its ceramite cradle and replied.

“Yes, Brother-Captain, I am here. What’s the word?”

“The Telepaths stationed aboard the outermost void platform tell me that a ship approaches at great speed, brother, and they suspect it to be an Eldar Aurora.”

He’Stan paused for a moment before replying. “An Eldar ship? What could they possibly want here?”

“I can not fathom their alien minds, brother, but I strongly recommend that you make ready the Chalice’s defenses. Our own fleet is docked for repairs on Nocturne’s drydocks, and only the Eye of Vulkan, a few escort ships, the SDF, and the Chalice stand guard right now..”

“Acknowledged,” He’Stan said wearily. “I will ready the Chalice for battle. When do the Eldar arrive?”

“Two hours,” Tu’Shan said with quiet relief. “Best of luck. Our teleportoriae stand ready to teleport boarders into their vessel if it gets close enough.”

The fleets of the Salamanders, for their relative lack of Battle Brothers, are impressive. Skilled forgers all, the Salamanders know the importance of proper materiel.

As such, though the three Battle Barges of the Salamanders fleet were all occupied when the Eldar ship arrived, the fleet was not unprepared. Master of the Ships Ir’Shal was quick to mobilize what assets remained in orbit above Prometheus, and array them around the Eye of Vulkan. The Eldar would not find the Salamanders defenseless.

Ir’Shal himself teleported to the flag vessel of the small fleet, the Chalice. Though it was a Forge Ship, and thus unsuitable for actual, ship-to-ship combat, its origins as Vulkan’s own craft were obvious. Its shocking array of lance batteries were sufficient to tear a Great Cruiser in half, though it was no match for a Battle Barge or Battleship.

Ir’Shal strode onto the bridge of the vessel, where he found He’Stan pacing, glancing out over the bulk of the ship occasionally. Gasses from the many manufactoria aboard were vented from the ship occasionally, so it looked like sections of the hull were aflame when the light caught the gas at the right angle. Ir’Shal wondered if the view was prophetic.

“Never have I seen you so excited, Forgefather Vulkan He’Stan,” Ir’Shal said drily at the look on He’Stan’s face. The old Salamander started and glanced at the relatively youthful Ir’Shal with a sheepish grin.

“The moment is not lost on me, friend, but I am still in awe at the recent tide of events.” Ir’Shal nodded knowingly, cutting a path through the serfs and servitors on the bridge to his battle-brother.

“Yes…these are interesting times. The Emperor returns to us as a daemon…I find another of the Artefacts…Lord Corax and Lord Russ return to their chapters, and so does Lord El’Jonson…I have to wonder.”

“Wonder…if Lord Vulkan will return to us?” Ir’Shal finished, shrugging his mechadendrites. Like many Salamanders who served aboard warships, he had received Techmarine training on a Forge World after become a Battle-Brother, and it served him well among the fleet’s Enginseers that he was capable of shouldering his fair share of the grunt work of repairs.

He’Stan nodded slowly. “Lord Russ made it clear that he would return when the needs were most dire, in the End Times. Lord Vulkan said the same…even if I have not yet found the missing three Artefacts, surely the rest of the prophecies in the Book of Fire ring true?”

“I wonder what Lord Commander Dante would say to that,” Ir’Shal asked quietly, joining Vulkan at the armourcris window.

“I imagine he would have his own opinion,” He’Stan said politely. He respected Dante more than any other Marine not of the Salamanders, Black Dragons, or Mentor Legion, but the fact that Dante interpreted an eleven thousand year old prophecy to mean that he was going to be the last Marine to defend the Emperor rankled a bit.

“Surely,” Ir’Shal said in the same voice. He glanced around the bridge to see if any new messages had been posted by the Astropaths.

“Let me save you the trouble, Brother,” He’Stan put in. He tapped a blank wall segment between two panels of armourcris and a hololith of the void station where the Astropathic relay had first detected the ship. “No messages.”

“Nice toy,” Ir’Shal said with no audible sarcasm. He’Stan smirked.

“I like it, yeah.” Before he could twist the knife, a blip appeared next to the icon of the void station in the holofield. He’Stan poked at it with an armored finger, and it expanded into a scrolling block of text. He’Stan looked it over and set his face. “The Eldar will arrive in ten minutes. Is the Eye prepared, Brother?”

“Naturally,” Ir’Shal said, “it’s the focus of our entire defense system.”

The Eldar ship screamed out of the Warp in usual Eldar fashion, as fast as possible. Eldar vessels are quite reasonably designed to spend as little time in the Warp as possible, as it’s far from good for them. The Webway is their preferred means of travel, but even the Eldar recognize the necessity of a means of travel in the Warp. The Adeptus Mechanicus would pay dearly to gain access to a fully operational Eldar Dragon Ship’s warp drive. Rendering the Navis Nobilite obsolete would be in the interests of the Mechanicus, though they would never have admitted it.

The Chalice of Fire maneuvered alongside the Eye of Vulkan, powering up its lance arrays. The Eye’s laser batteries whined inaudibly as they sought out targets in the inky void of space.

Finally, the Eldar vessel streamed out of the Warp, holding fast just beyond the range of the defenses mustered by the Salamanders. He’Stan snorted derisively.

“Fine. It’s one ship. We’ll just draw it back and hit it.” Ir’Shal, however, narrowed his eyes speculatively.

“A moment, Brother…that ship is not powering weapons, and its disguising device is inactive.” After a moment, he turned to the communications officer, a fellow Techmarine. “Brother Far’turath, see if they’re trying to hail us.”

“They are, Master,” the Techmarine said in a completely unsurprised voice. “They demand to speak to…the Hero of Armageddon?”

Ir’Shal stared. “The…is the dialogous translator operational?”

“Naturally, sir, it is,” the Techmarine replied coolly. “They are repeating their request.”

He’Stan shrugged, an oddly surreal feeling washing over him. “Might as well. Put the Chapter Master on.”

Ir’Shal spun to face him. “Brother?”

“They want to speak to Tu’Shan, Brother,” He’Stan pointed out. “We may as well let them. At that range they could escape if we refuse and move to attack.”

After a moment of unspoken dialogue between the Forgefather and Master of the Ships, Ir’Shal relented. “Very well, Brother He’Stan. Far’turath, relay the message to the Monastery.”

“Yes, sir,” the Techmarine said, tapping a few buttons on his console and muttering the Litany of Communication. A few seconds later, the console beeped, and Tu’Shan’s face, glinting red from his eyes, appeared.

“Brothers, what is this about? Are we under attack or not?” he asked tersely.

“No, Brother Commander,” He’Stan said quickly. “The Eldar vessel is hailing you. Specifically.”

“Consorting with xenos forces is heresy, Brother,” Tu’Shan said stiffly.

“Yet they are here, and will simply leave if we do-” He’Stan started to say, before a shockingly real hologram appeared in the space between the Eye and the Eldar Aurora. A huge symbol of the Ultramarines appeared. Ir’Shal gaped.

“What in the living hell am I looking at? Is there an Ultramarine aboard?”

After several seconds confused murmuring in the background of Tu’Shan’s holopict, which seemed to distract him, the Chapter Master turned his gaze back to the pict caster. “I have no idea, but it seems that they truly do wish to parley.”

Ir’Shal nodded, and gestured to the Comm officer. He tapped the appropriate rune, and the image of an Eldar in the colors of Ulthwe appeared.

“Do I address Tu’Shan?” the helmetless woman said without preamble, in the melodious voice of the Eldar. Oddly, her Low Gothic was flawless, with none of the high inflections that usually accompanied Eldar speech.

“I would know to whom I speak, alien,” Tu’Shan said flatly. The Eldar cocked her head a few degrees to the side, expressionless.

“I take that as a yes, then,” she said. “I am Eagle Pilot En’kris, of Ulthwe. I bear an urgent message for the one known to the Imperium of Man as the Hero of Armageddon. I assume that to be you?”

“Well, the Marines Malevolent wouldn’t agree,” Tu’Shan said with the ghost of a grin, “but yes. I am. What do you want?”

“To tell you that Roboute Guilliman has awoken, and that your master, the one named Vulkan,” she said, ignoring the sudden consternation her remark had created, “will return to you very soon. Your Emperor himself has told us this, as he does not want the information to be spread via your…crude astropathy. Vulkan’s position is…precarious.”

Tu’Shan, to his credit, only let his jaw hang open for a moment. “You…you are certain of this? Why are you telling us?”

“I’m telling you because Ulthwe owed your Emperor a debt, and because two…what are they called? Primarches?”

“Primarchs,” Ir’Shal corrected, his mind reeling.

“Yeah, Primarchs. Two of them together would ward off the armies of Chaos well, and Ulthwe will do anything to damage the ancient foe.”

She nodded with sardonic respect. “Also, I know it because your Emperor himself told us. Personally. He has visited Ulthwe twice in the last several days.”

The noise on the bridge of the Chalice couldn’t have been louder if someone were setting off fireworks. Several Marines were openly arguing with each other at the proclamation. He’Stan turned to glare at the offending parties until the talking quieted down. As the noise died, he turned back to the now openly smirking Eldar.

“And why has he come to you?” he asked with a voice that could have frozen the lava on the planet below.

En’kris seemed not to care. “Tight discipline. He visited us because each needed the other. We needed him to rescue one of our Farseers from She Who Thirsts, he needed us to resurrect Guilliman. I guess he thought you couldn’t do it?” she asked, lording it up.

Tu’Shan nodded slowly. “Good call,” he said calmly, refusing to let his satisfaction at the surprised look on her face show. “We haven’t the facilities to heal someone in stasis.”

“Well, Guilliman’s awake now,” the alien woman said, trying to regain the verbal advantage. “He is recuperating from his ordeal, and wanted to let you know that Vulkan has been found by your Emperor. He just can’t get to him yet, or something. Who knows?”

Ir’Shal seemed on the brink of ordering the Eye to fire on the Eldar ship despite its being out of range when Tu’Shan spoke. “Thank you for informing us. Now you may leave us.”

The Eldar pilot seemed about to say something else when He’Stan cut the channel. The ship hovered in space for a few more seconds before finally disappearing, its Warp drive sucking it back into the Immaterium. He’Stan turned to the hologram of the Chapter Master, his mind racing.
“Lord Vulkan…he returns. It seems my hunch was right.”

“Indeed,” Ir’Shal said, his voice contemplative. He slowly rubbed his finger across his chin, lost in thought. “I wonder what obstacle could slow even our reborn Emperor from aiding Lord Vulkan?”

“I’d rather know where exactly Lord Vulkan is, frankly,” He’Stan said, apparently arriving at the same point as Tu’Shan. “If he is lost to the Warp, such that the Emperor can not even tell us, his children, his location, he must be on a daemon world, or something similar.”

Deep in the twisting fathoms of the Warp, the realms of Chaos fade and blur. There are regions of the immaterium that even the principle Ruinous Gods don’t claim, areas where the daemons and lost souls of Chaos Undivided and the lesser Gods, like Malal, make their homes. Sprites and cackling gargoyles swoop about in the raw stuff of Chaos itself, snatching up souls that don’t enter the material of the Warp fast enough and devouring them.

Only on the rarest of occasions are these realms of the Warp taken into the materium, usually because an entity in the realm of the living opened a rift in the name of Chaos Undivided. These daemon worlds are cracked and barren, the pride and arrogance of Chaos Undivided’s daemons and sprites fiercely driving off all transgressors, usually including the hapless inhabitants of the planets themselves.

It was on one of these worlds where Vulkan, Primarch of the Salamanders, found himself trapped. Even he wasn’t sure how he had wound up here, for he remembered piloting his shuttle into the Eye of Terror. When the suffuse red haze over the sky receded enough, he could see nothing beyond it but empty space.

Time was funny here, he could feel himself growing older, then younger, then older again at the whim of the daemons whose realms he invaded, endlessly fighting. He had abandoned what little armor he had brought with him as useless, rent to pieces by grasping claws. He hadn’t survived the month after arrival, in fact, but every time he fell in battle, he was reawakened, his wounds mended, his youth restored.

The endless fighting that so characterized the world was not that of the mindless bloodlust of Khorne, but something more insidious: spite. The daemons who ruled this planet battled each other as much as him, and they would at times use him as a prize, allowing him to fight his way through their realms, other times yet allowing him to act as a free agent, and simply observing him with glee.

Vulkan had long since stopped trying to do anything other than escape. When he arrived, his soul was full of conviction, sure that he would find absolution for his failure at Isstvan V here, battling until the end of days. Shortly thereafter, however, to his horror, he had realized that anything he slew here rose again shortly thereafter, including himself.

Now, he desperately struggled to find a way off of the cursed planet, to return to his own realm. He had been trapped for near to nine thousand years, and the endless monotony of the world had worn at him the entire time.

“Didn’t I kill you yesterday?” he muttered, the old joke failing to elicit a grin as it once did. He swiped the chunk of rock he had lifted at a screeching gargoyle, who crumpled to the ground, twitching feebly. Vulkan dropped a heel on the writhing monster, then walked away, ignoring it.

“What’s funny is,” he thought aloud, “if Orks ever came here, they’d love it. The bastards love a good pointless fight.” He drove the iron chisel he had made into the rockface beind him and slowly climbed up. When he reached the top, he stared out over the view and shook his head.

A rocky plain stretched out before him, as far as the eye could see. Dark clouds, like bruises in the red sky, drifted around in impossible directions, and choking swarms of tiny insects buzzed around the rotting carcasses of daemons, scattered across the plain.

Vulkan sighed and hauled himself all the way up the short cliff, then sat heavily on a rock atop the hill. He ran his tongue across parched lips. “Wonder if I’ve been here yet…” he said faintly, before deciding it didn’t really matter. He just had to keep going, despite its seeming meaninglessness.

A bolt of lightning struck the ground at the base of the hill, startling Vulkan to his feet. He hefted the iron chisel that had become his companion, as two more struck the exact same spot. Disregarding the danger of holding a chunk of iron during a lightning strike, he stared upward, his eyes narrowing. He found what he was looking for immediately.

A bloated bag of flesh hanging from tattered wing was descending towards him, casually tossing lightning around like it was going out of style. Vulkan sneered and drew back his chisel, bracing his foot on the rock he had just vacated.

The bag of flesh, a daemon of Chaos Undivided from the look of it, shrieked and dove towards him, wobbling in the air. Vulkan narrowed his eyes, timing his throw…and hurled the block of iron with all his strength. The block of iron shot through the air like a dart, slamming into the daemon with the impact of a rifle shot. It screamed, its control lost, spiraling down towards him. Vulkan drew back his hands, waiting for the creature to come in close enough.

When the thing was nearly close enough to hit the ground, it spread its wings, the chisel still stuck in its bloated chest, swooping towards the Primarch. Vulkan waited until just the right moment…then struck.
“DIE!” he roared, thrusting his palms together so fast they seemed to blur, landing the blow squarely on the metal chisel lodged in the daemon’s body. The impact struck like a cannonball, and the being seemed to explode in mid-air, splattering the ground at Vulkan’s feet with viscera.

Vulkan looked at the splattered daemon with unconcealed satisfaction, then let himself slump back down on the rocky hillside, pausing to retrieve the gory chisel, which he cleaned reverently. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down,” he muttered to it, then sat back on the rock, staring out over the endless plain.

“<big>ARE YOU TALKING TO ME OR THE CHISEL, KIDDO?</big>” a vast psychic voice roared. Vulkan launched to his feet, his heart suddenly pounding. He clenched his hands and spun around, his eyes searching wildly for the source of the voice.

“Show yourself!” he demanded. A bright purple light flashed in the great distance, a huge blast of purple smoke roiling out from the site as something materialized in the middle of a cloud of flame demons, who were crushed or blasted aside.

“<big>WHOA, FUCK, I WASN’T EXPECTING THAT</big>” the voice roared, surprised. “<big>FUCK, I KNEW THIS WOULD BE A DIFFICULT INSERTION.</big>”

Vulkan gaped, astonished. A Khornate daemon, here, in the realm of Chaos Undivided? “Who the hell are you?” he demanded of thin air. To his complete lack of surprise, the voice answered in his head, a loud animal roar echoing across the plain from the daemon’s position.

<big>“REALLY? YOU DON’T KNOW YOUR OWN FATHER? WELL, I GUESS WE ARE KIND OF FAR APART RIGHT NOW. HEY, GET SOME COVER, I’M GOING TO CUT LOOSE.</big>” The creature leapt up, landing several feet away, and galloped straight for Vulkan’s position. Vulkan gasped in shock, as much at the creature’s words as his actions, and stared at the sight.

<big>“SERIOUSLY, VULKAN, GET BEHIND SOMETHING STURDY, THIS IS GOING TO GET LOUD,</big>” the creature said, its psychic voice maddeningly familiar. Vulkan snapped from his stupor, and deciding that it was best to do as he was told before things started making sense again, dropped down behind the rock he had been using as a seat, poking his head out to watch. The gigantic daemon was running forward at a shocking pace for something so large, though it was slower than its huge legs suggested it could run. All around it, a purple haze spread, and as the hordes of insects and tiny daemons crossed into it, they died, dropping in its wake like rocks.

A huge winged daemon swooped down at the lumbering leviathan, its claws extended. The massive daemon didn’t even change course, just glancing up at it. A moment later, a blast of light slammed into the diving daemon, sending it tumbling from the sky as if a Hydra had hit it.

The huge orange beast didn’t slow, charging forward through the rocky plain. It stared up at the rock Vulkan was hiding behind, dumbfounded. “<big>HEY, VULKAN, YOU MIGHT WANT TO GET BEHIND SOMETHING STURDIER. REALLY. ACTUALLY, ON SECOND THOUGHT, THAT MIGHT BE ENOUGH. HANG ON.</big>”

Vulkan’s jaw dropped when he saw the enormous orange monster suddenly flicker, seeming to disappear for an instant, before glowing contrails appeared behind its legs and clawed forelimbs. Its speed nearly doubled, racing forward like a Jetbike, nearly to the base of the hill, outpacing the daemons that were chasing it. When it was almost even with Vulkan’s position, it suddenly jumped, turning in midair, skidding to a halt abreast with the hill Vulkan was on, shooting up a cloud of dust.

He felt the air crackle with energy, and the beast’s eyes started glowing a blinding purple light. “<big>COVER YOUR EARS, VULKAN, RIGHT NOW,</big>” the daemon said, opening its mouth. Vulkan clamped his hands over his ears, mashing his thumbs into his ear canals to protect his eardrums. The creature reared back on two legs, its mouth hanging open.

“<big>BE GONE!</big>” it roared aloud, its psychic voice no louder than it had been, but its actual voice so loud that Vulkan’s ears rang. A wave of blinding purple arcs of electricity shot out from the thing’s eyes and mouth, rolling over the plain like a tsunami.

Daemons and sprites shrieked, their bodies charred and incinerated, their souls torn from their withering corpses and rent asunder by the sheer power of the blast. Cracks appeared in the ground where the beam had passed, black smoke pouring from bruised rocks. A path of boulders glowed red where the arcs of lightning had struck.

Vulkan’s eyes were dazzled by the flash of light, and he squeezed his eyes shut, ducking back behind the rock. After several seconds, he gingerly stood, opening his eyes and pulling his hands away from his ears.
There wasn’t much left in the path of the beam.

The ancient Primarch dropped to his knees, awe, terror, and shock flooding through him, competing for his attention. The huge beast turned his gaze on the few remaining daemons, and they flew off with indecent haste. It glanced over at the dark-skinned Salamander and seemed to grow smug.

“<big>YEAH, I HAVEN’T LOST IT. YOU OK?</big>” it asked, concern coloring its psychic voice. Vulkan slowly turned to face the daemon, nearly at eye level.

“…Father? Is it…really you? Here? Alive?” he asked, his voice and movements slow and jerky.

“<big>YEP, IT’S ME. I’M GLAD YOU’RE OK. WE NEED TO GET YOU OUT OF HERE,</big>” the Emperor said, turning his gaze back to the smoldering ruin of the plain. “<big>I WONDER IF THAT WILL BE VISIBLE FROM SPACE,</big>” he said offhandedly.

“Father,” Vulkan said, his voice breaking. He fell to his knees, tears welling up in his glowing red eyes.

“<big>WHOA, HEY, VULKAN, IT’LL BE ALL RIGHT, LET’S JUST GET YOU OUT OF HERE. YOU NEED TO GET AROUND A WEEK’S WORTH OF SLEEP,</big>” the huge Emperor said in concern. A diffuse purple haze surrounded the two of them, and streaks of deep red light surrounded them.

Vulkan squeezed his eyes shut, an agonized whimper escaping his lips. He was being dragged through the Warp by the Emperor!

“<big>YOU CAN OPEN YOUR EYES, VULKAN, I’M KEEPING US SAFE,</big>” the Emperor’s voice said, perhaps somewhat distractedly. Vulkan slowly opened his eyes, finding the light and movement confusing, frightening, but not threatening. Streaks of red, blue, yellow, green, flashes of horrible carnage, boiling lakes of pus floating in vacuum, rivulets of liquids pouring over flesh cups, tornadoes of infinite size twisting past empty lands…he saw it all.

“Father, I think I’d prefer to keep my eyes closed,” Vulkan said guardedly, screwing his eyes shut again.

“<big>YOUR CALL.</big>” The Emperor was seemingly immobile, hurtling through the Immaterium as if across the surface of a lake, but not moving at all. Vulkan experimentally moved his left hand, but found it like trying to push through tar. His movements were so slow that it seemed worthless.

“I…I shouldn’t have broken down like that, Father, but-”

“<big>OH, SHUT UP,</big>” the Emperor said distantly. “<big>BELIEVE ME, AFTER WHAT YOU’VE BEEN THROUGH MOST PEOPLE WOULD HAVE GONE DAEMONIC.</big>”

“But where were you?” Vulkan finished, his voice cracking with anger and disappointment.

“<big>WHAT? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?</big>” the Emperor said in surprise.

“If you could have rescued me like that sooner, why didn’t you?” Vulkan said, his voice seething.

“<big>LOOK AT ME. I’VE MERGED WITH A KHORNATE DAEMON BECAUSE I LITERALLY HAD NO CHOICE,</big>” the Emperor roared, clearly trying to keep his tone level. “<big>THIS ONLY HAPPENED A FEW DAYS AGO; IF I COULD HAVE RESCUED YOU SOONER, BELIEVE ME I WOULD HAVE.</big>”

Vulkan sighed heavily, the rage leaving him as fast as it had swelled up. “Yes, Father. I’m sorry…fuck, I’m just…very tired. The only chance I had to rest when I was on that cursed rock was when I was literally dead.”

“<big>YEAH. WELL, WE’RE HEADED TO THE NEAREST IMPERIAL WORLD FOR A BRIEF STOP BEFORE I TAKE YOU BACK TO PROMETHEUS,</big>” the Emperor roared, his own anger fading. The poor guy had been through a lot.
“We are? Why?” Vulkan asked, weariness tugging at his eyes.

“<big>IT’S A PARADISE GARDEN WORLD CALLED SEDRIS’S FORTUNE, AND THERE’S A CARDINAL PALACE ON ONE OF ITS MOONS. YOU’RE GOING TO RECUPERATE THERE FOR A DAY OR SO BEFORE I TAKE YOU BACK TO NOCTURNE, BECAUSE NO OFFENSE, KID, BUT YOU LOOK LIKE SOMETHING THE DOG DRAGGED IN. YOU’D NEVER SURVIVE A TRIP THROUGH THE WARP FROM HERE TO YOUR FORTRESS. WE’RE ACTUALLY OUTSIDE THE GALAXY RIGHT NOW.</big>”

“Oh? That would explain…things,” Vulkan said, the starless sky finally making sense. “I…thought I flew into the Eye of Terror…”

“<big>YOU DID, SPACE IS A FUNNY THING IN THE WARP. YOU GOT SUCKED INTO THE WAKE OF ONE OF THE DAEMONBIRTHS, YOU KNOW, WHEN LORGAR OR WHOEVER PROMOTES SOMEONE TO DAEMONHOOD. THE SHOCKWAVE LAUNCHED YOU OUT OF THE DARK GODS’ REALMS, INTO THE REGIONS NOBODY CLAIMED. IT’S COMPLICATED. DON’T WORRY,</big>” the Emperor explained.

“Yeah…all right…” Vulkan said, before exhaustion finally overtook him. He slid into a shallow, unpleasant sleep, his dreams haunted by the visions of Chaos that flickered beyond the tiny bubble of normalcy the Emperor was projecting. The Emperor turned his attention to his own telepathic powers.

Far away, in orbit above the Cardinal Moon of Averus Lona, an astropathic relay station was abuzz. The telepaths had heard of the return of the Emperor, just like nearly every single other human in the galaxy, but this was rather more urgent. The Master Telepath sat in his central position in the main temple, bowing his head nearly to the floor. “My Lord God, the Cardinal shall be informed at once.”

“<big>GOOD MAN,</big>” a distant psychic voice said. “<big>I EXPECT THIS TO BE DISCREET. THE CARDINAL MEANS WELL, BUT MY SON IS…NOT IN ANY SHAPE TO BE SITTING THROUGH POMP AND CEREMONY.</big>”

“You honor me, My Lord God,” the Astropath said, giddy. “I will inform the Cardinal that the arrival will be a secret. He will make sure that Lord Vulkan’s arrival will be quiet.”

“<big>GREAT. I ARRIVE IN…MAYBE FIFTEEN MINUTES.</big>”

The Telepaths looked at each other uncertainly with their empty eye sockets. “Ah…that’s…very short notice, my Lord God,” the Master Telepath said carefully.

“<big>TOO SHORT? TOO BAD. VULKAN WON’T SURVIVE A LONGER TRIP SANE. IT NEARLY KILLED CORAX.</big>”

The Master Telepath bowed so low he nearly touched his forehead to the floor. “As you say, my Lord God. They will be ready.”

''Continued in [[The Tales of the Emperasque: Part Six]]''.

[[Category:The Tales of the Emperasque]]

Sisters of Battle

2015-11-03T02:34:40Z

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''"Bunch together a group of people deliberately chosen for strong religious feelings, and you have a practical guarantee of dark morbidities expressed in crime, perversion, and insanity."''

-H.P. Lovecraft

''Space Marine Guideline 1: Thou shalt not refer to the Adepta Sororitas as "[[Bolter]] [[Bitches]]," nor shalt thou go anywhere near our sisters during the time of their "Red Rage," lest thou wishes to be the first human to enter orbit without the aid of a shuttle.
[[File:Nun n' Gun.jpg|300px|right|thumb|What? U MAD [[Space Marine|SPESS MAHREEN?]] ]]'''Sisters of Battle''' are essentially [[Warhammer 40k]]'s female equivalent of [[Space Marines]], warriors devoted to the [[God-Emperor_of_Mankind|Emprah]]. Although they lack the genetic modification of their beefier brethren, they also wear [[power armour]] and are armed mainly with the ubiquitous [[Bolter]] and [[Chainsword]]. The Sisters of Battle are also known as the "Daughters of the Emperor", and officially as the "Adepta Sororitas", though the Adepta Sororitas refers to their entire organization, while the term Sisters of Battle refers only to their militant branch. They are more colloquially known by players as "Bolter-bitches" or "Nuns with guns" almost always resulting in a awkward boner. They are ''not'' to be confused with [[Female Space Marines]].

==Overview==
[[File:Lusty Marine.png|300px|right]]
The Sisters of Battle are part of the [[Ecclesiarchy]], the religious arm of Imperial government, and sometimes work with the [[Inquisition]]'s [[Witch Hunters]]. In the 36th millenium, the Ecclesiarchy's pope launched a coup d'état that led to a devastating civil war. After said pope was crushed, the Imperium banned the Ecclesiarchy from having its own army. However, they fucked up the wording of the law, which only explicitly banned the church from having "men at arms", but not "women at arms". The Ecclesiarchy fully exploited this loophole. This being the grim darkness of the far future, no one remembered that 'man' is the correct way to reference humanity as a whole.

They have somewhat of an obsession with the purifying effects of flame, and generally choose equipment that allows them to cover heretics with as much holy promethium and thermal lances as possible. This philosophy is most obviously exemplified by the Immolator tank, essentially a rolling [[METAL BOXES|steel crate]] with giant flamethrowers or multi-meltas stuck on it. They also have the [[Exorcist]], a mobile pipe organ that shoots missiles. Less accurate than the Whirlwind Missile Launcher or any Imperial Guard artillery, but who cares, the thought of pipe organs launching missiles while playing epic Cathedral music complete with Latin is fuckawesome, dammit.

The Sisters may or may not be flaming lesbians (''Insert Rimshot Here'').

[[File:Ordersmilitant.jpg|200px|thumb|left|An overview of the six main Orders. Sadly brief, but characterful.]]

There are six main Orders. All minor Orders are desended from one of these.

* Sacred Rose: cool, calm and collected. The most tactical Sisters. Enjoy gunning their foes down in a more disciplined manner. If they were to get their own rules, their Rets would have slow and purposeful. They wear White.

* Ebon Chalice: the vanilla Order. These Sisters haven't changed a whole lot since they were first created, preferring to stick to their tried and tested methods. They wear Black.

* Argent Shroud: the Lawful Goods. Are a rarity among Imperial factions, in that they are described as being famous for selfless heroism, as well as altruism. For this reason, /tg/ likes to fluff them as noble space Paladins and bros to the [[Salamanders]]. They wear Silver.

* Bloody Rose: aggressive as fuck. Aim to kill off their enemies as quickly as possible, as they see no reason to let the heretic live any longer than necessary. They wear Red.

* Martyred Lady: the postergirl Order, depicted in most mainstream portrayals of the Sisters. This has led to many people thinking that all Sisters have white hair, when it is in fact seemingly only this Order that does it. The Order itself is reputed as being determined even for SoBs, which is saying something. Will not stop until their enemies are utterly destroyed. They wear Black and Red.

* Valorous Heart: Repent! These Sisters feel the guiltiest about that whole [[Age of Apostasy]] thing, and as a result have an excess of [[Sisters Repentia|Repentias]]. Likely on constant lookout for the slightest sign of weakeness in themselves or any allies serving alongside them. They wear the most black.

==Sororitas Orders Non-Militant==
As mentioned in the opening, not all of the Adepta Sororitas are actually Sisters of Battle. A number of Orders exist which officially serve non-combat-related roles in Imperial Society, although they tend to receive even less attention than their combat-fighting sisters. The largest source of info on these Sororitas thus-far is the ''Blood of Martyrs'' sourcebook for [[Dark Heresy]], which specifies the three most important Orders and mentions the existence of others, even lesser in nature. ''Blood of Martyrs'' even includes character classes for members of the three major Orders Non-Militant.

* Orders Dialogous: These Sororitas are dedicated to the studying of language, with tasks ranging from interpreting long-lost texts to accompanying Imperial diplomats on contact missions with intelligent xenos species. Thanks to their training, even the most average Sororitas knows several hundred everyday human dialects and dozents of scret cants, ciphers, even xenos tongues. Sororitas of these Orders are some of the few individuals judged worthy (and capable) of actually understanding the [[Eldar]] tongue.

* Orders Famulous: These Sororitas serve intimately with the upper echelons of Imperial society, acting as chamberlains, counselors and consuls to the nobility. Their focus is on the spiritual and genetic purity of the human race, so they concern themselves with not only seeing to the education of nobles, but also secretly arranging alliances and marriages, in hopes of preventing corruption and inbreeding from taking root. They are particularly involved in tracking the manifestation of saints, which makes them a popular ally for Thorian Inquisitors.

* Orders Hospitaller: Healers and medics, these Sororitas are amongst the most skilled and compassionate surgeons in the Imperium, meaning they are commonly found attached to the [[Imperial Guard]]. Given their mission, they are one of the more beloved orders by the common citizenry of the Imperium. Of course, this being the Imperium, they're also expert torturers often called upon for that purpose by the Ecclesiarchy and the Inquisition, though Inquisitors are cautioned against using Hospitallers to keep important heretics alive; they have a bad tendency to forget about the future gains and instead "take the Emperor's justice into their own hands".

* Others: Scores, perhaps even hundreds, of minor non-militant Orders exist within the Adepta Sororitas. ''Blood of Martyrs'' mentions the Orders Sabine (who infiltrate newly rediscovered worlds and prepare them for the Missionarius Galaxia) and Pronatus (guardians of sacred relics) as examples of more wide-spread Orders Non-Militant, and three "local" Orders in the forms of the Madriga (temple choirs), Planxilium (leading processionals on holy days) and Vespila (sanctifying the dead and forensic specialists).

==Sisters Snuff==
Back in [[Warhammer 40,000: Rogue Trader|1st Edition]], they were present fluff only as an order that was essentially the [[Just As Planned|Inquisition for everyone including the Inquisition]] and [[Derp|Space Marines]]. This would change in later editions, when they eventually get their own codex.

In 1997, when the Necrons were launched, Games Workshop had them face the Sisters in a Battle report, which the Sisters lost. The results of this battle report then became the [[Sanctuary 101]] fluff. Games Workshop liked the result so much that they decided the Sisters of Battle should get slaughtered all the time. Unless they are falling to Chaos, obviously. Some fans blame popular GW whipping [[Matt Ward]] for this tendency, but it was there long before he got here [[FATAL|and it continues to exist after he left]].

Please note that while [[Heresy|fa/tg/uys]] [[/d/|masturbate furiously]] to fanfics of Sisters engaging in bdsm fetish sex with the likes of other Lesbian sisters, servitors, children, Schola Progenium cadets or even the likes of [[Sister of Nurgle|Nurgle]], all of the below actually, '''canonically''' ''fucking happened''. It should also be worth noting that they're getting stomped by their own fucking allies in most of these.

[[File:Warhammer_40k_sisters_of_battle_adeptas_sororitas_battling_Dark_Eldar.jpg|thumb|200px|right|Heroic Lesbian Space Nuns + Evil BDSM Space Elves = [[Faptau|YEAH!]]]]
Some highlights include:
* Some of a Dialogus Order and some Battle Sisters turned to Chaos by a [[Slaanesh|Slaaneshi]] Keeper of Secrets.
* A whole Order Mind Controlled by one chaos Psyker. Fucking [[C.S.Goto|Goto]].
* Another whole Order Mind Controlled by one chaos Psyker. Why, [[Sandy Mitchell|Sandy]], why? ''To be fair, it wasn't just them; the guy mind-controlled even: a commissar, entire planets of guardsmen and PDF troopers. In fact the only people who weren't mind controlled had a blank close by.''
* A strike force of Celestians and an Inquisitor being killed, cannibalized, and sacrificed by the Sons of Malice Astartes chapter for disturbing their victory rites and falsely accusing the chapter of heresy.
* A whole shrine-world of Sisters killed by Chaos Dreadnought. Said dread shrugs off meltas, meltabombs and multiple Exorcist volleys, a Living Saint even gives up her divinity to stop it, and fails. It's destroyed instantly when a Marine throws a hammer at it. ''We are not making this shit up''.- +++Hell Brute, not a dreadnought+++
* An entire Order of Sisters of the Order of the Sacred Rose dying and ultimately destroying their base and everyone in it, who were sent to the Kaurava Campaign and killed by [[Vance Motherfucking Stubbs]] after they refused to fuck off. Unlike the majority of the entries on this list, the Sisters led a valiant defense action, crippling the Imperial Guard forces for weeks and hamstringing the Imperium's campaign to reclaim the worlds of the Kaurava system. Also, unlike the others on this list, the Sisters were the aggressors. So this doesn't really count as much. Besides which, nearly destroying any hope of the Imperium reclaiming the system could be considered treason and heresy anyway. Also, some of them had to figure that, if even their Living Saint's inviolable aura (invincibility, seriously) couldn't save them from being defeated by the Guard, then ''maybe'' the Emperor is with the Guard and ''not'' the Sisters.
* A detachment of Sisters killed by [[Grey Knights]], [[Khornate Knights|their bodies sliced open and their blood applied to the Grey Knights' armor, so the Grey Knights can be immune to the Bloodtide's effects (though some of the Sisters were immune with faith alone, make of that what you will).]] The Bloodtide was retconned in the most recent Grey Knights Codex to not explicitly mention said armor-paint incident, but they do instead job to a daemon horde after buckling at the sight of Kaldor Titanfucking Draigo. At least they went down fighting this time, but jobbing's still jobbing.
* In another instance of Grey Knight-on-Sororita violence, during the climax of the first novel of the Grey Knight series, a detachment of Sisters led by Cannoness Ludmilla are tricked by a Chaos-turned Inquisitor into thinking that the Grey Knight's pursuing him are Chaos Space Marines. Later (As in a few pages later), said detachment gets nearly kamikaze'd by said Grey Knight Strike Cruiser. (which itself was shot down by Imperial Navy ships fooled into thinking that it was Chaos-starting to see a pattern here?)Surprisingly, the only dude's that die from the crash are Imperial Guard and PDF-the Sisters survive but only to get the ever-Emprah-lovin' shit beaten out of them by the surviving Grey Knights (The sisters pull no punches however and do manage to take out a few of Alaric's squadmates, so power to them). BUT WAIT. Seeing as this was written by a much more competent author, unlike the ambiguous piece of shite-fluff written by a certain [[Matt Ward|spiritual liege]] both sides figure out that this was part of an elaborate case of [[JUST AS PLANNED]], they stop fighting (And even more shocking was the fact that the person who ended it was Cannoness Ludmilla after noticing the FUCKHUEG books bolted on the GK's mighty pauldrons) and team up to take down the Big Baddy.

==The Sudden Yet Inevitable Betrayal==
[[File:Sister_Hmph.jpg|200px|thumb|left|The reaction of Sisters and SoB players everywhere to the codex update.]]
{{MattWard}}
As of August 1, 2011 it seems [[Games Workshop]] finally decided to attempt to "revamp" the Sisters of Battle, much to the aggravation of about two thirds of the Witch Hunters' remaining playerbase. It's by no means a horrible update; initial worries on /tg/ suggested it to be akin to a biblical plague in terms of disaster-level, when in truth it's simply [[Tyranid|sub-average]]. The Codex Update had its fluff written by [[Matt Ward|your SPIRITUAL LIEGE]]. In spite of this, it's squarely in-level with another [[Tyranids|bad codex update]], because the rules were clearly written by committee.

For starters, gone are the various special characters that got gobbled up by the [[Grey Knights]] codex update, like Inquisitor Valeria. The Sisters have many of their own special characters now, but a lot of the classics, like Lord Krazypantzoff, are gone now since they're now part of the Grey Knights army list. Immolators took a nasty nerf-bat to the face (they can't fire on the move and have no firepoints now, which makes them basically more-cost-effective [[Razorback Transport]]s). Who would have thought that Games Workshop would update an army by [[Carnifex|nerfing the one model every player had a couple of so that they all have to go out and buy new models]]?

Inquisitorial Stormtroopers are gone as well, and Faith is now randomized, which means that it's much harder to manage in big games. Faith is now, functionally, a game of roulette, with randomized dice rolls deciding how much (if anything at all) you get. Sisters now all have very specific faith powers on a by-squad basis now, and whilst several are powerful, others are meh at best.
[[Image:Repressor.jpg|right|thumb|Heavy armor in an update? We fucking ''wish''.]] Whereas before you had a nice general army that could use faith points to adapt to different situations, in the new system you have mostly weaker powers that are unreliable. Powers that most other units for similar points get permanently.

Sadly, things were muddled by a spree of fake releases as part of an [[Troll|April Fool's Prank]]. Original reports of genuinely useful units to offset the loss of the Stormtroopers and inducted forces thus turned out to be false. As of thus far, there's been no reports of new units - so in other words, about a third of the Sisters' armory is now gone without being replaced by anything. The new special characters reportedly are nothing worth getting excited over. (The knights feel your pain now.)

The Sisters carry over a number of Grey Knight units as well, including Death-Cult Assassins, Arco-Flagellants, and Crusaders. There was talk of a new heavy transport/assault vehicle called the Repressor (see image above), but it turned out to be part of the same fucking April Fool's Prank and is still Forgeworld-only (which sucks because it would be an improvement). Sisters Repentia were originally purportedly nerfed, but in the end the Repentia now are ''vastly'' better, boasting a 6++ invulnerable save, Fleet, and double their original number of attacks with a faith act to do more on death - meaning they stand a good chance of fucking up a lot of units they wouldn't before now... So ''now'' instead of paying ridiculous prices for a sick joke, you're just paying ridiculous prices for a suicide squad. At least they'll rape shit while they're there now. ''Progress''!
The funniest thing is that you have 5 different types of independent characters that boosts the unit they joins assault skills...And even with all the buffs added to the best assault unit in the army you would still be hard pressed to defeat a space marine tactical squad in an assault.

The biggest kick in the cunt for the Sisters, aside from the obvious loss of utility units, was the loss of ally rules and inducted unit rules. One of the biggest advantages the Sisters had was the ability to, courtesy of the Ordo Hereticus, requisition allied forces. A time-honored method of getting around the relatively weak Sisters of Battle vehicular lineup was to take some Inducted Guardsmen for a Leman Russ or two, or Space Marines for a Predator. The loss of Inquisitors also came with the loss of [[Land Raider]]s as dedicated transports, which was another stab at their vehicular capabilities.

On the plus side, the fluff was <s>very clearly ''not'' written by [[Matt Ward|the blessed one]] either</s> nope it would seem he did, since the Sisters in it are portrayed as completely badass, fighting off a Daemonic incursion by themselves without ever needing [[Khornate Knights|the Grey Knights to butcher them and turn them into armor paint]]. One can only imagine how the development meeting for this codex went - because most of /tg/ argues that it had to be hilarious. In fact, the best of Canonesses can now become Inquisitors, which means the best of canonesses now get, fluff wise to get psychic mastery levels and TERMINATOR ARMOR, which makes them even more badass than a Terminator Librarian and certainly a non-Sororitas Terminator Inquisitor, since neither of them have a free 6++ save or Acts of Faith. This is not, however, yet applicable to the rather new Inquisitorial Codex (but home-brew can definitely do it).

===The Eternal Vigil===
[[Image:Homelesssister.jpg|right|thumb|Come on guys, she's got sisters to feed.]]
While most members of /tg/ are violently, gleefully convinced the sisters are on their way to be [[Squat|squatted]], a tiny contingent of the faithful keeps a candle burning, waiting for the day that their beloved bolter bitches will rise again ([[Finecast|tiny bubbles]] and all).

*'''0172008.M3:''' The Sisters are released as a playable faction in [[Dawn of War]]: Soulstorm. While it is poorly designed and built, it still drums up some enthusiasm for the Sisters. Many conflicted feels are had.
*'''0583011.M3:''' [[Matt Ward|The Destroyer]] and [[Robin Cruddace|The Cruddace]] release a playable [[White Dwarf]] codex for the sisters, hinting at a similar treatment to the Blood <s>Angels </s> <s> heretics </s> fuck you.
*'''0608012.M3:''' The sisters are retained for the 6E allies system and given a new flyer via [[Forge World]]. An unconfirmed leak shows a line up of new Sisters characters in development.
*'''0569013.M3:''' Faithful pilgrims supplicate themselves before the great and powerful [[Jervis Johnson]] asking for news on the Sisters. They are told that all armies are being worked on and there are no plans to discontinue support for the sisters. [[Phil Kelly|The Kelly]] adds that modeling issues prevented their release previously.
*'''0561113.M3:''' Rumors begin swirling about an official digital codex release for the Sisters. A leaked and subsequently confirmed White Dwarf advert later confirms this, and promises an updated version of the 5e codex. A later interview with [[Robin Cruddace|The Cruddace]] indicates that the codex will include tweaks to Faith and points cost, and that if it sells well enough it may get a physical release. The release date for the digital codex has been set at October 19th. Later comments on the GW Digital Editions facebook page confirms that it will have a Warlord Chart, Ecclesiarchy Relics and an Altar of War, in addition to some updates, new fluff and artwork and changes to faith and points costs. It appears that the Sisters prayers have been at least partially answered. A physical release however is still very much dependent on the sale of this eBook however. Also during all this GW changes the name from Sisters of Battle to Adepta Sororitas most likely because it sounds cooler and is [[ChapterHouse Studios|easier to maintain copyright on]]. The reactions are mixed when the Codex is released, with such changes like making all Acts of Faith usable only once, maximum twice, per battle and many buffs and nerfs around the board, leaving many arguing whatever the Sisters got better or majorly screwed.
*'''0999999.M3:''' Escalation is released, alongside Stronghold Assault. While Stronghold Assault slips by unnoticed, the Sisters of Battle receive no Lords of War choices in an otherwise controversial and poorly thought out expansion. It then falls to Forge World to release a downloadable sheet a few days later saying that Sisters armies can take Warhound & Reaver titans, as well as Marauder Bombers & Destroyers as Lords of War. The Sisters have yet to comment on how overkill these choices might be if they can ever deploy them. The Reaver is at least far too expensive for normal games.

===Optimistic Theory===
A hobby store employee hit me up with this theory: the Sisters have been out of focus because GeeDubs haven't been able to make quality plastic molds of Sisters until very recently (two prominent GW people, Jes Goodwin and Phil Kelly, have said as much anyway). While I admit this guy is a bit ''too'' merciful on GeeDubs, he has ''friends'' on the inside and claims to have witnessed firsthand several prototype sculpts of Sisters with veils on their faces. His personal theory is that GeeDubs has been saving up, and will give Sisters a fancy hardcover 7th ed codex in late 2015 or so once the plastic models are finished (This theory is seconded; a mate of mine who works for the local Geedubya office says there are whispers of plastic Sororitas in his workplace. Ave Imperator).

Also remember that fluff wise, the best of Sororitas Canonesses may ascend to be an Inquisitor if they so choose, and Inquisitors use Terminator armor. That means, (while this has yet to appear in the rulebooks) that they take their canoness statline, Acts of Faith and their 6++ save and gain a 2+ save, on top of having a psychic mastery level or two, and way better equipment than either the Marines or Sororitas have. Totally tradeable for And They Shall Know No Fear and +1 Toughness, since no Terminator either gets a 6++ (Except every terminator because terminator armor gives a 5++) save or Acts of Faith.
This should be allowed, but it should have the points price, fully outfitted (as in psychic mastery level 3, Deny the Witch 3+, Armor is a 2+3++or a rerollable3+3++, psybolter rounds for the bolter/boltpistol or having an inferno pistol or two, a relic blade/artificer power sword/chainsword, crazy Inquisitor doo-hickeys) and the special included things like a free 6++ and Acts of Faith should cost about the points of an otherwise unupgraded Flyrant.
Maybe GW will do that? Maybe?

===Getting Started With The Nuns===
As of the time of this writing the Sisters of Battle are only marginally better supported than GW's old specialist games, at least Bretonnia is all in plastic, but the Sisters are all still in metal. In fact their range may be up to 90% of the models GW sells that still are in metal and they are priced accordingly to that. To build a single ten Sister squad leaves you almost 90 US dollars poorer right there, not counting any special or heavy weapons you want to add. The sculpts themselves are also over 20 years old, thankfully due to there unique nature and design most of their models are still very pleasant to look at, but nevertheless an update would be appreciated.

Until that happens, any player looking to start Sisters has an unique problem; actually getting models for their army in a cost-effective way. This is especially problematic for the Sisters since they can and will eventually amass quite a bit of power-armored models, which while not as many as the IG or the Ork, they are still''' a wallet screaming nightmare to put together.'''

The first answer is to [http://1d4chan.org/wiki/Proxy proxy], look for another company for models. The problem is that Sisters are '''unique'''. If you look around among other miniature manufacturers you'll find that the 'army of nuns in power armor' theme is, surprisingly uncommon (given how many Space Marines knockoffs you can find). Sure you can find one or two models, but nothing you can replicate army-wide. Your odds of finding proper models go up if you just look for 'girls in power armor' but even then your pickings are slim. Again any option you do find will likely be hard to use army wide unless you really commit to kit bashing to deal with weapon and pose problems. There's a few ideas and links in the [http://1d4chan.org/wiki/Warhammer_40,000/Tactics/Adepta_Sororitas(7E) tactica.]

All in all until GW puts some plastics out, there are no good options for sister players at the moment except MAYBE [[casting]] if you're dedicated and want official models on a budget.

==The James Swallow books: SoBs can win too!==
[[File:Hammer-and-anvil.jpg|250px|thumb|left|Sister Miriya from Hammer & Anvil, yes, [[Black Library]] artists can draw pretty sisters too.]]
Among [[Black Library]], there are two books, specifically starring the Sisters, that are widely considered to be some the finest portrayals of SoBs in all of [[40K]] fluff. Both were authored by [[James Swallow]], who decided that Sisters needed some attention and got to work. The first, [http://www.blacklibrary.com/all-products/Faith-and-Fire.html Faith and Fire], has the Sisters battling with what are basically terrorist psykers on a shrine world while trying to uncover the reasons behind the attacks. Then there's the sequel, [http://www.blacklibrary.com/all-products/Hammer-and-Anvil.html Hammer and Anvil]. Remember reading about Santuary 101 up there? This book has them going back there and trying to figure out what happened. While saying too much would be spoiling it, it can be said that shit hits the fan hard and that the final battle is very epic stuff. Also, if you're feeling extra faithful, Swallow wrote an SoB audiobook called [http://www.blacklibrary.com/all-products/red-and-black-mp3.html Red and Black]. A prequel to Faith and Fire, it has the Sisters being sent to a recently rediscovered planet as representatives of the Imperium, and ultimately to judge it. Needless to say, things get complicated. Also features a Scottish SoB. So, you can help the Sisters by getting the above books so that [[Games Workshop]] and Black Library may decide to change their minds and give some love to these girls. Or at least give them some additional badass portrayals.

==Tactics==
The Sisters of Battle employ a costly yet simple tactic whenever they're called out for battle:

 1. Bring thousands of sexually deprived Sisters of Battle into the field.
 2.Arm them all with Melta and flame-based weapons.
 3.<s>Tell them they can shlick to the image of the Emperor if they triumph over the foul enemies of the Imperium.</s> {{BLAM|'''HERESY. *BLAM*'''}}
 4.Set them loose, hope you are not fighting slaaneshi cult.
 5.If they do win, all remaining Imperial troops, save for the SoBs, are ordered off the field.
 6.No other accounts can be heard of, as remembrancers and all other Imperial journalists are sworn to an oath of silence on whatever events transpired.
 7.????
 8.Profit.

''(Yes we do have a real tactica, its [[Warhammer 40,000/Tactics/Adepta Sororitas(7E)|here]].)''

==See Also==
*[[Codex - Sisters of Battle: /tg/ edition]] - in which the glory of the Witch Hunters, fueled by the possibilities of the 6th edition rulebook come together to cleanse the battlefield in a holy trinity of prometheum, bolter shells and melta rays.
*[[Sisters of Cleaning]] - a [[/tg/]] created order.
*[[Sister Hospitaler]] - a non-militant Sister.
*[[The Times and Trials of Klightus]]; a love story about a shy [[Imperial Guard | Guardsman]] and a Sister of Battle.
*[[The Steadfast Pewter Sororitas]] - a sad story about what happens to those metal Sisters that don't get bought.
*[[Warhammer 40,000/Tactics/Adepta Sororitas(7E)]] - tactica on how to play them.
*<s>[[Sister of Solace]] - a fapfic about a less than pious order of Sisters.</s>{{BLAM|Heresy!}}
*[[Sisters of Battle Order Creation Tables]] - Create your very own Order of pyromaniac nuns.
*[[Sisters of Sigmar]] - The Warhammer Fantasy equivalent
*[[Psychic Sisters]] - A small house rule if you want your sisters a bit more witch hunting, but don't want to go full /tg/ edition.

==External Links==
*[http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive/1426730/ suptg archive about Sisters of Battle and pedophilia].
*[http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WHuNbWMBAeA FOR THE IMPERIUM! ''Hey, there's no rule saying that warrior space nuns can't be badass.'']
*[https://www.sendspace.com/file/8zykal Rules & Summary for Adepta Sororitas, for those who do not like the clusterfuck digital codex.]

==Costume Gallery==
<center>
<gallery>
Image:Sororita cosplay7.jpg
Image:SororitaAsianCosplay.jpg|Sister Shoju
Image:Sororita_cosplay4.jpg
Image:Repentia_+_bolter_bitches.jpg|The [[Animu|Japanese]] are beating us to the punch.(this is the Chinese,goddammit)
image:Sis.jpg
</gallery>
</center>

==Gallery==
<center>
<gallery>
Image:Sister of D'awwwww.jpg|They aren't actually this cute. -But they should be.-
Image:Sororit as planned.jpg| The rape face you know you love.
Image:Canoness femdom.jpg|Goddamn fetishists... '''Ohoho!''' The [[Slaanesh|glorious satin throne]] is telling me '''someone''' is feeling a little butthurt! Speaking of which I'm late for my [[Rape|lunchtime appointment]].
Image:Pedo Sisters.jpg
Image:MujuLolcron.jpg|Love Can Bl-- wait.
Image:Sororitas.png
Image:Ephrael_stern_page29.jpg|There was a sister in the [[Lost Worlds]] battlebook series.
Image:1290509755821.jpg|Can't read my, Can't read my, No he cannot read my Purging Face (She's got no one to spare)
Image:Sistergangbang.png|There are not too many men (not counting old priests) in Adepta Sororitas so they have to improvise.
Image:Sororitas strawberries.jpg
Image:Sistersnslaanesh.jpg| Incompetent Inquisitor is incompetent (Hey, we know he did that on purpose).
Image:Sisters.jpg|
Image:1269678816033.jpg|dum dum dum... dummmm
Image:Repentia_1.jpg|Sisters Repentia are supposed to repent. Stop whinging you know we know that you like this more.
Image:Repentia_2.jpg|Not that they are fanatical about it.
Image:FIGHTBYMYSIDE.jpg| An imperial artist's representation of a living saint.
Image:1228252747952.jpg|Cum my sisters!
Image:1228253984074.jpg|OMNOMNOMNOM
Image:1230052783344.png|Post whenever you need to make a fa/tg/uy rage that he doesn't understand the role and jurisdiction of Commissars.
Image:1230051355300.gif|GENESTEALERS DO NOT WORK THAT WAY. <s>-But they should-</s> NO THEY SHOULDN'T, YOU SICK [[Slaanesh|PERV]].
Image:Peachsororitas.jpg|Sorry Mario, but your Heresy is in another castle
Image:sister_n_slaaneshi.jpg|Sister in ''deep'' trouble.
Image:1232217288173.jpg|
Image:LolimoNsis.png
Image:B0018254_4897156440df9.jpg|Grimdark meets [[Hot Chicks]].
Image:1233114472588.png|Unlike other settings, in 40k this kind of thing DOESN'T work. Still kinda hot though.
Image:1227858843066.jpg|Sisters love delicious xeno shota.
Image:2nhnnlh.jpg|The lesser known loli chapter.
Image:X6eb14.jpg|moar
Image:SistervsLeviathan.jpg|OMNOMNOMNOM
Image:Sororita_change_poster.png|Yes We Can
Image:Nagasister_of_battle.jpg|Are we this desperate for recruits?
image:Haters.png|Some day we too will receive an utterly broken codex update, and when we do this image will be faithfully waiting for you.
image:Sistersuperior.jpg|
image:1335738154693.jpg
Image:SisterShy.jpg|You don't want to see her tsun side.
image:Notsureheresy.jpg
File:Heretic%3F_Colored.jpg|Better purge them anyway...
image:SisterCheer.jpg|<s>NO THATS STUPID NO NO NO.</s> Let's face it, being a bunch of glorified cheerleaders isn't that far off the mark nowadays...
image:Sisterweeaboo.jpg
image:Pyschosister.jpg|[[Awesome|Problems heretics?]]
image:ChaosCookies.png|Just as planned.
image:BurnHereticsBurn.jpg|Heretics gunna get burned.
File:Sisters of repentia sisters of battle Adepta Sororitas rule 34 montage can't believe how hard fetish rule 34 Warhammer 40k myoc redux.jpg|As hilarious as it is to picture a bunch of semi-nude nuns bull rushing a carnifex or a baneblade through a hail of gunfire, it's also weirdly sexy. Behold, the [[Sisters Repentia]].
</gallery>
</center>

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[[Category:Warhammer 40,000]][[category:Imperial]][[Category:Matt Ward]]
[[Category:Sisters of Battle]]