The sound alone of the daemonettes writhing through the breech in reality was enough to drive a human mad. And the sight of the wanton naked half-woman would ensure it. Claws where dainty feet should have been and pinchers instead of hands, should warn a man that these were not bedmates to be desired. Simone felt a curl of disgust in her belly. She could sense the wild sensuous song that rippled out from them. The call that would cripple a human with perverted lusts allowing the daemonette to kill at their pleasure.
The Inquisitor silenced herself and remembered one of the beautiful hymns she had learned as a child. She spun the words and emotions of the song of praise for the Emperor into her own aura and let rush out towards the lesser daemons.
The foul things cringed and howled as the Word flowed over them, breaking their siren call. Rhoda and the others crashed down on them with a wild cry. But Simone held back.
The armor Katherine and her Order had lent to her, made her clumsy and slow. The plate had been made for someone much larger then herself. And certainly someone stronger. She wasn't sure how much longer she would be able to haul it around, powercell or not. She was struck by a sudden thought: she didn't really need it. A warmth filled her mind and with it, a peace that she had seldom found. The Emperor had always been closest when she had not been on a battlefield. He hadn't formed her, strengthened her for fighting. He, however given her faith and whatever this was in her mind that touched the Warp.
The realization was staggering. Just the thought, that the ability to touch the Warp might not be a hideous thing, was blasphemy. But Simone was sure, at that very moment, with the bolts flying past her and the screams and blood and chaos of battle, that this, surely, was her purpose.
She dropped the bolter to the floor. It was not her weapon anymore. She moved a little further back. Her retinue and the remaining Soroitas were pushing hard ahead and didn't notice her retreat. She brushed her fingers across the magnetic clamps that held her barrowed armor tight around her. The clamp popped open with a hiss. Usually the bolts and clamps had to be opened by Malachi or Lukas, impossible as most of them were to reach for the person being bolted into the armor.
Simone smiled, knowing this was the right thing to do. The clamps and bolts failed rapidly all over the suit. The power cell at last giving a whine as it succumbed to the energies freeing her from the armor. She let the heavy chest piece and cuirass of the suit drop to the floor: a random clang in the din of fighting.
The rest came off as easily, she would know later that under normal circumstances, without help she would have never been able to shed the armor. She peeled the braces from her arms and the gloves from her hands. She simply stepped out of the greaves and cuisses. All the while the golden warmth wrapping her mind in peace.
Lastly she clipped the sheathed Blade to her forearm again, pulling the long sleeve of her tunic over it. She stepped, barefoot, over the pile of red and gold armor and moved around the cluster of men and women raging against the daemonettes. It was time to finish it.
"Sweet Lord Emperor above!"
Simone glanced up, in her detachment; she had failed to see Lukas fall back looking for her. His freckled face was pale, his eyes wide as he saw her, standing unarmored amidst the fray. Several of the Sisters and Lukas had been separated from the main group of the others. Three daemonettes whirled their claws and flat weirdly shaped blades as they cut them off. Simone could see Malachi and Delphias still fighting along side Rhoda.
"Lady! Please, what are you doing?" Lukas cried grabbing her arm and trying to push her back towards the pile of armor.
Simone laid her hand on his chest, "No, Lukas." The golden glow had become like lightning in her veins. Energies crackled around her almost audibly. Lukas stopped, stunned into stillness. Simone moved forward.
