Private East Bound & Down

[Iria de Germania]

Planet Aellia
Feudal World
Rocky Desert and Sweeping Grass Plains

The transport pattern Thunderhawk lifted off from the launch bays under the White Cathedral, flying out and up into the atmosphere's edges, making its way ultimately to the Free Trader ship that had been obtained to transport the dangerous cargo within to a larger order better equipped to see to its destruction... if indeed that was the fate the Inquisitors had in mind for it. All of that was well above the appropriate concerns of one Sister Superior Iria de Germania. No, her station allowed her to concern herself with nothing higher than the safe transport of the object in the cask to that destination where it would be handed over to that Order and the waiting Inquisitors there-with.

A duty she was only too content to perform. She and her squad had been present for the battle that had put the item in the hands of the Singing Sisters of Aellia but they had not participated in the center. Slaughtering the entities that had been summoned by the Chaos creatures attempting to keep it from Imperial custody along the periphery. Important but not glorious work, it had however provided her with the strength of arms after the battle to be the best choice for seeing the object to its ultimate destination and fate. An important and solemn duty she cherished for herself and the Sisters under her command. Entrusted as they were, she was humming happily to herself which had become the tune around which the other sisters on the craft had formed their wordless song of warding.

When locked down in the landing bay of the Free Trader's craft Iria was first to her feet, her helmet tucked under her helmet as she marched down the ramp to greet whomever awaited them. As zealous as Iria could be, her order was small and had to occasionally deal with such beings to maintain its upkeep even though it wasn't strictly speaking... smiled upon by the Administratum. Life was full of compromise, as long as nobody asked her to compromise her faith and service then Iria considered herself largely adaptable. Shoot who the Inquisitors ordered, torture those suspected of heresy, she preferred to be singing but she compromised that want for duty too. Such was service to His glory. "Rejoice, for this is the day the Emperor hath wrought!" she called out to the blessed few that came to his service through no fault of their own, those who worked aboard this chartered vessel.

 

[Madame Avilaine Mabeius]

The Rogue Trader and Shipmistress, Avilaine Mabeius, was relatively new to the business. She'd carried out a few missions here and there, and she'd been largely successful in her endeavors, but this was the first time she was doing something truly essential for the Imperium and its masters. She had been in the sector carrying with her some essentials for the local populace, and a few other luxury items for its nobility to purchase from her. Including a few things that were only overlooked due to her Warrant of Trade. Exotic goods of alien origin were not often tolerated in Imperial Space, but so long as they bore the seal of the Rogue Traders Militant they were not deemed heretical, as long as it was within reason that was.

For the past few years Avilaine had been doing largely mundane work, running trade between this sector and others, carrying goods to and fro. Selling them to planetary noblility or member of the ecclesiarchy. Perhaps a Duke would want a gift for his son, and she would supply an eldar sword for him. Perhaps a Baroness wanted exotic materials for her wedding dress, Avilaine would supply nebulaic silks of uncertain origin. If she didn't already have it, she would obtain it, but mostly it wasn't anything terribly special in her line of work. However now, during a routine stop to sell some of her goods she was contacted by the planet's priory. Their order of the Adepta Sororitas needed assistance in transporting an item of Heretical nature deeper into Imperial space for delivery to a larger order for proper handling.

It seemed simple enough, but the fact that it was so secretive clued her in with no uncertainty that this was not some ordinary cargo that they needed transporting. A chaos relic perhaps? A high ranking heretic? A daemonhost? The grin that crossed her face was positively wicked, she saw here an opportunity to make a few connections. Doubtless the Inquisition would get involved quickly, if they weren't already. And if she could prove herself a useful ally to the Inquisition, then she could set herself up for success that very few could possibly dream of. So naturally, she accepted with a reverence and eagerness befitting a true servant of the God Emperor. And she opened her hangar for the Sisters to land aboard her cruiser, The Arrogance.

When the sisters disembarked they would see standing in front of them a surprisingly short woman, clad in the finest and most exotic of garments and armor. She was immediately recognizable as the one in charge. She wasn't flanked by guards as some might expect her to be, she trusted the Sisterhood to be properly grateful for her help and offer her no threat or disrespect. And she likewise expected some zeal from these saints in training, so was not at all surprised by them announcing their arrival with a shouted blessing to her crew.

"Welcome aboard!" She wished the lot of them, articulating each word in perfect High Gothic. "I am Avilaine Mabeius, and I will be seeing you to your destination, along with your cargo. My crew will see to the cargo's safe securing. It will be locked away in the most secure of vaults and utterly forgotten until we arrive. Though... forgive me, I didn't permit you your own introductions, how rude of me. Might I ask your name Sister Superior? Who do I have the privilege to serve?"

Iria de Germania

 

[Iria de Germania]

Every sister was clad in resplendent white armor, Iria's alone bore the gold trim of command. Their Seraphim jump packs folded closed but worn and ready. Godwyn-De'az bolters were head at the ready by every sister save the two carrying the cask and Iria, the two having theirs mag-locked to their thighs and Iria holding hers in her free hand opposite the helmet tucked under her left arm. Iria's brilliant smile didn't flicker even a fraction as she strode down the ramp to stand before the woman who welcomed her and her sisters to this condoned (though just barely) vessel. "We will be seeing to the cargo's safe securing. Curiosity will do more than kill the cat and we have the discipline to resist. No less than three Sisters will be with the cask at all times and it is in the individual best interests of your crew to stay well away from them and our charge during the journey."

She said it all in the most pleasant, borderline bubbly, of tones as if assuring Avilaine that they'd brought their own snacks so her crew didn't have to share theirs. She giggled, literally giggled, at being asked her name. So polite. "So polite," she spoke the thought aloud. "I am Sister Superior Iria de Germania of the Order of Singing Sisters on Aellia. But you have the privilege to serve our Father, the Emperor of Mankind." Her eyes went briefly wide with zeal before returning to their usual happy glitter. Brown hair, brown eyes, moderately pretty, but she liked to think her constantly upbeat demeanor made her more engaging than she would have otherwise been.

"If you will lead the way to the secure vault, I will set the guard and we can make way to our destination." Again, the bubbly tone that seemed at home between two siblings talking about dolls or candy.

Madame Avilaine Mabeius,