Hidden away in Ultima Segmentum is the world of Rollard's Respite. Trditionally an area of light conflict, it is here that an old threat in the guise of something new has arisen. A partially industrialised world consisting of tight-packed manufactorum cities surrounded by vast expanses of farmland, game reserves, and oak plantations, it is home to a small convent of Adeptus Sororitas and a sizeable planetary defence force. It also has a native population of Snakebite and Blood Axe clan Orks, who spend a lot of their time squabbling with themselves, but also interacting with the Imperial forces, either in trade (exchanging their manual labour for food), or raids (just taking what they want). Several punitive raids have been sent into Ork territory and wiped out large numbers of them each time, but they always come back. It has gotten to a state now that there is an unspoken rule that a single Ork is allowed to approach and enter imperial cities, but anything approaching the size of a mob is turned away with massed firepower. While the sisters actively and loudly disapprove of this, the planetary governor is a very shrewd man, and has so far managed to convince the Sisterhood to stay their hand against any party, as the convent size would mean any military action taken would result in their swift destruction at the hands of an army a thousand times their size. Like the Ork, the Tau air and water castes engage in trade with the planet rulership, trying to expand their influence over the world so that they can add it to their fourth-sphere expansion. After the events of the Damoclese Crusade, they are more cautious than ever to keep their activities as secret as possible, having learned that the imperium may be slow to respond, but when they do it is with nearly unlimited resources. In addition, rumour also has it that warp gates exist on the world, although no evidence has been found of them, nor of overt Eldar activity.
Rollard's Respite may seem incredibly progressive to some, and incredibly heretical to others, it is here that a variant xeno strain has taken root and, if successful, could spread to many other worlds, digging in and awaiting the perfect moment to rise.
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Rosette - Chapel of Our Martyred Lady
The day had come like so many others on Rolland's Respite, talk of heretical happenings within the governership of the planet, failiure to purge the greenskin threat located in the mountains, and the suggestion of a woeful lack of devotion to the Emperor from the general populace. Of course, nearly every world in the Imperium has its sections of society that only payed lip-service to the God-Emperor, and the militant wing of the Ordo Hereticus did not have the resources to put them all to the flame. However, the increase in tales on this world seemed to support the faith placed in the Sisterhood to expand the simple mission that was on world only a few years ago to a full-fledged commandery.
Rosette, along with seven other initiates, had been called into the central chapel by Palatine Brios, one of the few sisters who had been stationed on the world before the order's expansion. A large woman even without her power armour, she had served in many front-line combat operations against the Ork infestation, but always been forced to hold back from following her zeal and leading operations against them by the weak will of the PDF command refusing to supply adequate support, as their own fighting vehicles were limited to a few Rhinos and two Immolators. Standing in the pulpit, wearing her traditional off-duty attire, the various scars of bettle were plain to see, etched into her flesh.
"Novices of Our Martyred Lady" her voice boomed out, amplified by the construction of the chapel, as well as hidden technological devices. "You have been summoned here to do a duty to our Order. No doubt you have heard the tales spun by the weak men of this world, about involvement with vile xenos, and outright blasphemous activities. You will have also heard that our hand is being held in check by the threat of our expulsion from this world. While I am not at liberty to confirm the latter, you are all here to seek out information on the former. We are in no doubt that you will find what we believe to be here, but without something firm, we cannot send a request to the Inquisition to sanction a purge of the affected. Be swift sisters, but be cautious. While we have His protection, and our weapons spell death for the unclean, the numbers that a single heretic can turn against us with but a word can be significant, and while all here would gladly die in His service, death without completing our duty is inconsiderable." Brios took a moment to look between everyone assembled, judging their own levels of faith. "A new threat to the spiritual wellbeing of this world has recently come to light. Something called the Society of Sensation has begun to spread and, while it pays its tithes and openly proclaims devotion to The Emperor, the Cannoness believes that they are being a little too loud in their devotion. There have also been reports that weapons of alien origin have made their way into the hands of the PDF. This needs to be confirmed or put to rest as, if true and left unchecked, any number of xenotech devices could slip through to the general populace, and further undermine their faith in the might of the Emperor. Investigate both. You are set to depart at once, so if you have questions, ask them. Otherwise, The Emperor Protects, sisters!"
Celedra - Central Webway Gate
The transition from the Webway to Realspace was always a strenuous affair, especially for those who were sensitive to the flows of the empyrion. Stepping from one realm that assaults the mind to one of the senses so suddenly could even kill those of a weak mind, but the Eldar had perfected movement between the two several millennia ago, and the few stable paths that remained were almost like just stepping through a door. The link to Rolland's Respite, as the Mon-keigh called it, had been one of the paths that had fared poorly since the Fall, and even now had a feeling of shadow looking over the opening end. The world that greeted Celedra's eyes, however, was unlike any other Imperial world she had stepped on before. Still a far cry from the natural splendour of an Exodite colony, it felt... cleaner than most. The webway gate flickered and died a few seconds after arrival, the psycho-sensitive material returning to a dormant state now that it was no longer required. It could be reopened if need be, but the only two paths that led from it were back to the Craftworld, and to one of the smaller islands also on the world. The gate itself was relatively safe from harm, located in a dense forest as it was, and had not been found in the ages that it had stood there before. Or, if it had, nothing had been done about it.
The strands of psychic energy nearby suggested that a large number of raucous and chaotic individuals were to the west, primitive but sharp and bright. To the north-west there were fainter trails, these ones duller and more regimented, but there was also something else on the world. Something familiar, and yet so slippery that the mere notice of it seemed to cause it to run like oil and vanish.
Shas'ui Sera, Gue'vesa Tarner - Orca Dropship, inbound on Rolland's Repite
The gentle hum of the dropship's engines permeated the air onboard the short-range transport as it slid through the blackness towards the new assignment for the assembled Fire Warriors and auxilleries. The Air-caste pilots making the ride effortlessly smooth so as not to cause any strain to the new garrison troops on board - a half-strength Cadre. While the filters on the ship were working correctly, the air being recycled was beginning to smell both of the Tau, but also their Human allies. Two full squads of Fire Warriors were strapped into their harnesses, while six Human auxilleries, including their leader Gue'vesa Tarner, had resorted to standing, holding on to straps attached to the compartment's ceiling. Withing the heavier lockdown section were three XV-8 battlesuits, two marked as being piloted by Shas'vre, and one belonging to the mission commander, Shas'O Es'Tau Torash. In her own specialist harness, Shas'ui Sera and her prototype crash suit and been secured. All armours were painted light blue, showing their origin for Sa'cea, cementing in the minds of all that this was important enough to have a first-sphere force assigned to it, even if it was a small one.
The hatch connecting to the command section slid open, and the military commander for this operation, Shas'O Torash, stepped through, his pilot suit showing evidence of having been worn for quite some time. On one thigh he has a pulse pistol sitting in a holster, while against the other was a symbolic bonding knife. The door slid closed, and the commander clasped his hands behind his lower back. "Honoured warriors. You all know that we are inbound on a Gue'lei world that has been marked as a potential candidate for the fourth sphere expansion. While we do not go as conquerors, we will not be idle. Those of the Air Castle have arranged for our Cadre to be the first official Tau military force on-world in order to assist the locals with their greenskin problem. This is an arrangement with the rulership of the world, but it has been ordered that we remain away from populated areas. The burning of the Great Gulf which they call Damocles is still fresh in everyone's minds, so remain on the front we shall. However, the Etherials have declared that a small detachment of their own should remain within the city, so as the infer the benefits of the Greater Good." His gaze moves to Sera. "And, at my request, we have a specialist who will be operating as a Lone Hunter, in case something arises that has not been forseen." Returing his attention to the assembled warriors as a whole, he puffed out his chest, slamming his fist against it in salute. "Honour to Sa'cea! Victory for the Greater Good!"
Haara, Zirix - Western Lake
The gentle morning air moved ripples on the lake's surface, native animals sat at the water's edge, lapping the calm waters while the sun warmed the air pleasantly. The irrigation channels running off from the lake to the closest farms rumbled softly, pumping small streams of liquid away in order to feed crops that could, in turn, feed the populace and beyond that, pay part of the Imperial Tithe. But the peace did not last, as the air started to grow cold and oppressive, the air itself starting to coil and twist before finally tearing itself open into a portal through to Warp Space. Startled, what few animals there were began to flee and, should any imperial citizen have been nearby, they would have seen jagged spires at impossible angles, great chains and hooks creating a web-lattice between structures, small figures and vehicles darting from one to another, and above them all a great star, torn from its place in the universe and suspended to provide illumination to a place that should have none. If sound could pass through, they would have heard a symphony of screams, shouts, gurgles, and above all, laughter.
It was through this portal that two figures slid from the impossible city through onto the grasslands of Rolland's Respite. The first glad in gladiatorial attire, armour protecting one side of her body while the other simply showed a skin-tight outfit that emphasised grace and fluidity of movement, coupled with viciousness and the promise of a slow death. The other wearing a heavier suit with artificial flight, giving the impression of a more direct combatant, but also one who can relocate easily should the need arise - The Bloodbride Zirix Laceral, and the fallen Scourge Haara. Before departing from Commoragh, both had been given their tasks to accomplish on the world infested with primitives - find slaves, evaluate the planet for a full-scale Realspace raid... and have fun.
Haara
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