SPEAR OF REFORMATION
The sudden raid upon
Fakultat by the wayward Yormungaros was a swift yet brutal affair which saw to the utter eradication of the defensive garrison put into place by Isolde. When she responded to the alarm she had rallied the available forces present as best as she could, but despite attempting to requisition the aid of both the local Mechanicus and the Wostyn mercenaries present she was denied on both fronts. Shetth had denied the deployment of any Mechanicus force to instead focus their defenses on the Mechanicus facilities alone, sacrificing the efficacy of the Fortress City's already depleted defenses to cover his own resources, fully content to allow the incoming Yormungaros to slay thousands of civilians before being stopped if it prevented a single loss on the part of the Mechanicus' primary stronghold on Kimara.
As to be expected of an important member of the Conomor's inner circles the mercenaries allegedly tasked with defending the city were instead deployed solely to the inner segments of the Fortress City along with Shetth, locking down and fiercely defending the sectioned off pieces of the city that would be the last to be invaded. This division of manpower was only foolish if one's objective was to ensure a united defensive front that would minimize casualties, but such were not the concerns of Shetth or the Wostyn mercenary leader Priomb deployed to handle the situation.
Despite their power the Yormungaros would be no doubt wounded and in a frenzy by the time they reached the innermost portions of the city, at which point the fully prepared and fresh garrisons there could deploy and wipe them out. Shetth was already working alongside the Governor to requisition able civilians from Wostyn to supplement his workforce and increase production, so any Kimaran civilians slain in the conflict would just make room for a less resentful servant class for his needs.
Callous and cruel, it nonetheless would not result in direct blowback because Isolde would serve as a more public face to the lives lost as the one directly leading their defenses. That she asked for help and was denied was something that could just be conveniently covered up so long as she was dealt with as well, and that was another reason for this decided inaction: they were to stand by and be ready should Isolde and Isolde alone be in danger, for the Governor had asked that she be delivered to him alive if possible: if she perished in battle with the Yormungaros then it would be regrettable but ultimately acceptable, with the only direct prohibition being directly killing her. Even that could be eschewed if the circumstances called for it, but Governor Conomor was quite serious when he spoke with Shetth and Priomb concerning the matter and he was not someone to be crossed.
Ultimately the reason behind why Conomor desired Isolde to be captured did not matter to Shetth, only that it would earn him the Governor's favor and that it would assist his own political needs. Perhaps it was a way to keep her father in check, perhaps it was to have her punished for some crime, whatever the reason it was just another task to be carried out and an easy one at that. Even should Commissar Kohlenstoff survive the Yormungaros she would be likely weakened by it and be easy prey, and while the loss of some of their artillery batteries would be regrettable they could always forge new ones to replace them after gathering their pieces.
Fakultat had survived attacks in the past and would stand even after some of its more expendable segments were breached, and any blame for the damage would come at the expense of the young brat trying to give commands to those her senior. Shetth had arranged for the circumstances to play out as such, and now just needed to wait out the coming storm.
Deprived of support by design left Isolde with little to work with in regards to manpower and equipment, but the civilian garrison of Kimarans she gathered beforehand would prove to be enough while not ideal. Their Basilisks peppered the incoming Yormungaros as they surged forth through the ice and snow beyond
Fakultat's exterior to reach the prey within, downing some of the beasts and stripping chunks off of others where impacted. If every artillery battery was properly manned by a trained and seasoned operator the beasts never would have reached the city's walls, but with only around half of the Basilisks properly utilized by fairly fresh faces to conflict it was inevitable that some would slip through the cracks.
Basilisks were utilized to fend off Yormungaros because once they closed the gap they were nigh unstoppable, making long ranged bombardment to slay or deter them necessary just to survive even with the thick defenses of Jarn's Fortress Cities. Resorting to direct fire once they savage animals were close by was necessary to continue fighting back, but it was also dangerous because the Yormungaros were crafty enough to target any opening in the city and would lash out at the artillery that so harmed them.
By the time they had broken through the wall the Yormungaros had been considerably thinned in their numbers, but so too had the militia formed by Isolde: most of their cannons were disabled from the brute force of the Yormungaros as they made their way within, either the artillery being damaged or its crew outright slain. This was not a fight these civilians had been personally prepared for, and the soldiers who ought to be protecting them instead were using them as shields to wear their foes down for them.
Hundreds were slain in mere minutes as the final few Yormungaros laid siege to them, an outright frenzy of battle commencing where cohesion was broken and everything became a desperate fight for survival that saw Isolde and her rallied forces stand firm and refuse to retreat since to abandon their artillery at the walls would be a death sentence. They were the most effective method to slay the beasts, and so Isolde had the remaining cannons face inwards and target the Yormungaros within the city without care to the collateral damage: civilians not fighting the beasts had already been evacuated from the closest segments of the city, and so victory took precedence over making certain the interior remained spotless. Such an endeavor would be fruitless anyways given the damage to the city's walls letting a blizzard beat down upon the garrison fighting for their lives and those of their kin deeper within the city, harsh winds tearing at some more fragile equipment and objects within this block while also limiting vision for some minutes that only heightened the massacre faced.
It was when the downpour of snow began to soften that Isolde found herself the sole remaining combatant against the last of the Yormungaros alive, the beast lunging at her as she in turn finished turning a Basilisk to face right at it. The sudden explosion ripped through the beast's maw and exploded out of the back of its already damaged skull, its body crashing down upon the instrument of its demise and forcing Isolde to try and move out of its way to no avail. Her accurate and last second shot had done its job and ended the conflict, but in return she found herself knocked from the Basilisk's platform and slammed down into the ground nearby.
The hardened carapace armor Isolde had brought with her dulled the impact fortunately, but Isolde had not come out of the battle completely unscathed. Bruises lined her body where the battle had taken its toll, and she could tell from how it felt that her helmet was close to having its silver visor crack. She had driven a Tauros into a Yormungaros and the crash had dealt the majority of her injuries, but by driving it back momentarily it had bought others time to fire back at it and fell it utilizing the armor-piercing shotguns Kimarans favored. Wostyn soldiers used a derivative variant which possessed far greater spread to fell humanoid targets, but on Kimara where large beasts roamed the ability to punch through their thick hides and kill them even on foot was vital.
With her rank and station came additional responsibilities as well as benefits, with the most pertinent of them being the fact that Isolde's helm possessed an enhanced communication suite and a paired visual recording system that both were added to its exterior. The former allowed Isolde to better command the forces around her and also better coordinate artillery strikes, while the camera was a tool with a more multi-faceted purpose: with it the owner could record anything the helmet was present for, thus allowing replay of events and locations to learn from them as well as further military operations. As a Commandant who very well might need to execute soldiers on the battlefield it also allowed for Isolde's actions to be captured and recorded as evidence in the instance that they were called into question, though such a function was merely theoretical thus far since while Isolde was willing to pull the trigger on any who dared deserve it her role had yet to call for such internal strife yet.
Despite the damage she incurred herself it was to Isolde's surprise that the communications of her helmet were not damaged to any noticeable degree, the fact of which made her realize quickly how she was the only one left. Blood from both Yormungaros and Kimaran militia members soaked the snow around her all throughout this city segment, only the wind greeting Isolde as she attempted to hail anyone else. Anyone that
was alive was too injured to respond, and given that she did not see any medical aid incoming those same survivors were likely to expire soon enough.
A lifetime of training and her armor were all that truly kept Isolde alive and not those she had rallied together, and so she was left quietly observing the carnage in its aftermath. They had so few soldiers to begin with, and they sacrificed their lives to defend the city walls...the realization of which would come to gradually replace Isolde's quiet shock at the horrors of half-eaten corpses and Yormungaros flesh strewn about the locations they were felled. All the others were gone, leaving an eerie silence beyond the winds blowing through the cracked dome of the city she now stood under.
Isolde took a moment to catch her breath after the hectic conflict came to a close, gathering herself and doing what she could to shake off the aches and pains in her body that had resulted from it. Her armor had saved her from much of the damage she would otherwise have incurred, but to remain unscathed in such a dire battle was simply out of the question. Her leg had suffered the worst of it and while it was not broken Isolde could tell that running on it would be ill-advised.
Her surroundings mirrored her own status, with the reinforced buildings and structures of the Fortress City having largely endured even the overwhelming might of the leviathan Yormungaros that had assailed it. Even so scars of the conflict remained, with a few smaller structures having been crushed beneath the weight of the fallen Yormungaros while yet others bore markings of Basilisk fire that had not quite hit the mark in the desperation to fire upon the beasts. The sheer mass and raw strength of the Yormungaros was their greatest tool in battle, for they could break through even Terminator armor with their jaws while the impact of their serpentine bodies striking a target could crush a Dreadnought given the difference in size. Kimara's reinforced walls were made to resist both them and the weather, but years of neglect and weakened infrastructure had allowed the damage to pile up and eventually result in the vile creatures breaking through.
If all the Yormungaros desired was food they would not lash out at Fortress Cities, but their seemingly unique sadism for bestial creatures meant that they thrived off the opportunity to slaughter panicking prey in quantities only the cities could grant them. They seized upon weakness like the predators they were, and so when presented the chance to breach a damaged outer wall they could not help but go for the kill. Their self-preservation instincts would go by the wayside when presented such a bounty, all but emphasizing their vicious nature at their core.
Kimara's days were quite short and its nights long, so darkness began to creep down upon Isolde as she stood in the conflict's ruins. The blue moon shone brightly above her, a luminous orb that captivated Humans and Ixolotls alike with its beauty. Even through the subsiding storm it could be seen, and so Isolde stood under its reflected light observing it in the moment of calm she had now. The literal blue moon served as a calming influence to one who had just witnessed a deluge of death and suffering, bodies of the fallen having already bled out entirely from what small pieces of them remained.
The upper torso of one militia member some feet away from where it had fallen when bitten as a short trail of blood showed how they had crawled forward afterwards, an arm of another victim all by its lonesome as all that remained of its owner, and a mangled corpse that had been slain through sheer force after being struck by the body of one of the beasts as they charged forward, these and more filled the landscape around Isolde and wholly contrasted the beauty that radiated from above them.
Death was something Isolde had known almost her entire life, her father's killing of three trespassing mercenaries who dared harm his staff still vividly in her mind all these years after. The death of Umida, the loss of civilian life thanks to the current regime, and more all dotted her life and so death itself was not something that particularly gripped her or shocked her. Even still the sight of so many dead, of their shredded remains, when it all was preventable had an effect on her. The initial shock and sorrow naturally shifted to fury, but one wouldn't know from looking at her face even if her faceless helmet did not cover it: her expression mirrored the lack of one possessed by her helm as Isolde stood amidst the wreckage caused by the inaction of both Shetth and that dog Priomb.
The tranquil fury she possessed made her understand how her father had once so calmly walked up to three men and gunned them down without betraying his true feelings until the moment he began their execution. Rather than explosive rage that was unchecked by any form of restraint it was the kind their people were known for, the deep-seated grudges they would hold towards those who wronged them culminating in controlled and precise retribution.
It was only natural that someone cultivated as an embodiment of Kimaran virtues would also possess their vices, and a complete unwillingness to forgive was part and parcel to being Kimaran. It made relations with other worlds and people within the Imperium difficult for them as they would resent those enemies they once held until something was done to rectify the grudge earned, and it was why Kimara stood alone with no support throughout its history outside of the Astartes that had once brought it into the Imperium. Their nature had it that such accounting and calculation was a virtue in their eyes when to all others it was a deep flaw, but that too was met with the typical Kimaran pride that saw them sneer at the opinions of outsiders.
Isolde's peripheral vision caught sight of movement, and given that none of the militia she raised had answered her calls she knew it to be the Wostyn garrison fanning out instead. Shetth would keep his own forces close to the heart of the city until he was absolutely certain there was no threat to them or his own person, while the mercenaries would have to at least make a token appearance at the end of the battle if they hoped to claim credit for it.
What initially seemed to be an attempt to lock down the breached portions of the city wall would immediately be revealed as a feint to surround Isolde from all sides, one which she caught in time to check her personal shielding was active. She did not know their direct intentions, but she was now alone as perhaps three dozen men were deployed against her and as skilled as she was trained to be there was zero chance she could win a direct battle with them.
At the head of the pack of soldiers was Priomb, the veteran enforcer whose brutality and instability was well known by now to Isolde. He at times would be accompanied by his brother Osin who served as a restraint of sorts, reigning in some of Priomb's worst behavior where possible though unable to fully control his brother's paranoid delusions at points. The ravages of war took their toll on all, good and bad, and what had already been a brutal soldier without moral fiber had become a chained attack hound under the command of others within the Wostyn forces.
Priomb was thought to be behind the disappearance of Kalles recently, but no effort had been made to discern the truth given her disloyalty to the other members of the Schola earning no fondness in return from those who could make such an effort. Information had been leaked to Wostyn soldiers that only been granted by a member of the Schola and she was believed to be behind it given her fondness for the outsiders, and so her disappearance saved them the effort of having to execute her for betraying the trust of their institution to those who sought to destroy it. Fortunately none seemed to desire to fill her shoes and show their 'allies' from Wostyn the same degree of trust, mercy, and affection and so while it was unfortunate one of their number sided against them it helped deter any such behavior from repeating.
That Priomb was present meant that the men furthest back and forming the outermost edges of the encirclement were his personal crew of veteran soldiers, assigned to Priomb to finish whatever was left in his wake so that the prized hound of their forces could continue forcing their foes into submission with sadistic brutality. Unlike most of the other elite teams within their ranks who deeply valued their members and saw them each protecting one another like family the group assigned to Priomb had a fair turnover rate as he was assigned to locations that called for intense conflict.
Whereas other such teams had not lost a single soldier since they were honorably discharged from the Imperial Guard, Priomb's group had none of its original members still in it since even with only one or maybe two dying per deployment it was only natural that given enough time and missions they would lose their members and need replacements. That some were lost to Priomb's own instability was another issue entirely, and one which went unaddressed lest the unfortunate soul who dared to mention it be added to his list of victims.
Even still the soldiers clad in gold and purple customized armor were some of Wostyn's finer members, they just were the ones considered the most expendable amongst their elite and thus assigned to serve under a man who was their blunt instrument for dealing with rebellion whether it be believed or realized. Outnumbering these men by two to one were the mercenaries Isolde was most used to, the ones hired to serve more menial roles and who were not missed if one or two went missing thanks to Kimaran 'weather conditions' every now and again. Even Kimarans would at times be lost to the absolutely unforgiving nature of their world so it was actually expected and planned for the soldiers from Wostyn to lose members here or there, replacements prepared and kept at the ready for such instances.
Unlike the personalized outfits of the veterans present with their gold and purple these lesser members of the Sons of the Emperor were all clad in the same set of desert fatigues and uniforms that were given to them standard issue from Wostyn. They each wore them in their own unique way and did what they could to personalize the uniforms, which when compared to the nigh indistinguishable sets of armor at the Schola it stood out all the more despite these men having little in the ways of resources to properly tailor their outfits.
Personally Isolde thought they looked ridiculous wearing gear meant for the desert on a world that had been frozen over for more than ten thousand years, and she would mock them if she was not preoccupied reading their movements and preparing for whatever it was they were planning. They were prideful in their own way of their own origin, that was something Isolde could understand and sympathize with, but it did not make it any less foolish in her mind. To wear the multi-layered uniforms standard on Kimara on a world like Wostyn would be ill-advised as well, though Isolde had no desire to ever be on such an dry and arid planet.
Most of the mercenaries kept their distance and displayed their experience on the battlefield by taking positions that while allowing them a clear shot at Isolde would prevent return fire from reaching them, while the more novice members stood closer where their shotguns' spread would have a better chance of hitting their target. With each position they took it became more and more obvious that they were intending to take her into custody, as not one had opened fire yet and they maintained proper trigger discipline as they did so. In her wounded state Isolde could not just run from them, and her gear was damaged enough that even if she fled into the wild of Kimara she would succumb to the cold sooner rather than later.
She could not run, but Priomb was stepping forward and now approaching her on his own: a mistake, but a forgivable one given how surrounded Isolde was.
"You left us to die," Isolde commented, her voice cold but restrained as she leered at him from behind her silver visor.
Despite his violence and unstable nature Priomb dressed as if he was a nobleman in regal robes, flaunting the wealth he had come to acquire through taking on duties that needed raw violence for success. As such despite his hulking body frame and reputation it gave him an almost noble patrician persona as he scoffed, "Was the battle not won? Traitors like your kind ought to perish first, it is your penance for the sins of your forefathers against the God Emperor. For a culture shaped by the Iron Warriors I have always found it fascinating that your kind are unwilling to throw your lives away."
The distinction between throwing one's life away for nothing and sacrificing it to achieve something was apparently lost on Priomb if he was not just being purposefully ignorant to insult both Kimara and the Iron Warriors at once. Isolde refrained from informing him on the nuance of such matters, for her attention was focused entirely on something else as he loomed closer.
"Nothing to say? Here I thought the daughter of that insubordinate fool might make for better quarry, but you Kimarans are all the same...silent, dull, it is a tragedy really that you do not make for better company," at half a foot shorter than Isolde Priomb had to look up to meet her gaze when he came close enough to reach her, Isolde not having moved or said anything since she pointed out his inaction, "Are you not going to acknowledge your place and bow to the Captain appointed by Governor Conomor himself? Even in silence your lot are impudent...you devils born of ice and iron ought be grateful that your lives are spent like this protecting those who stand beside Him in all his glory."
Isolde remained still and silent as he drew ever closer, having already sent a message to a group of Tempestus Scions practicing their drills in a neighboring region to extract her from this situation. She doubted they could reach her in time, but to not utilize every tool in her arsenal would prove unwise. The sons of Wostyn were indoctrinated to a fault, and a lifetime of listening to their abuse had left Isolde largely immune to it, especially in light of other, greater crimes.
This man was to blame for those civilians' deaths who fought so bravely to save their home, he hid and cowered while everyday members of the Imperium fought on his behalf. Such cowardice was...
Priomb lunged forward and grabbed Isolde by the throat in a sudden burst of violence, though rather than follow through on it he then brushed his hand across the cold metal of her helmet as if to gently brush her hair.
"Now what to do with you..." he spoke as if savoring every moment of Isolde's complete lack of reaction, "Orders are to bring you to the capital in chains, but while they specified they want you alive they did not say in how many pieces or in what state."
A newer member of his retinue stepped forward as if to move between Priomb and Isolde, his hands holding restraints to secure the Kimaran they were tasked with capturing, "I will secure the target, sir."
It was evident that the mercenary was dutifully carrying out his role, but it was also just as evident from his body language that he was purposefully keeping Isolde from Priomb: if they had been given orders to make certain she stayed alive then not allowing the unstable and violent man free reign to her would be vital, even if that man was his superior officer at the moment.
As if out of polite courtesy the mercenary also gave a nod to Isolde, the warrior aspect of his culture appreciating how Isolde slew the last of the Yormungaros herself, "You have fought bravely, but for reasons unknown to us it is the wish of his majesty that you be taken into cust—"
Anything further he may have said died along with him when Priomb impaled an elongated dagger up through the man's neck into his skull, the man's shackles hitting the ground while his body slumped over and the firearm he kept behind him dislodging from his back.
"Foul heretic! There is no forgiveness in the Emperor's eyes for questioning one's superiors, and to do so is heresy. The words of the Governor are law, and those who dare cross his holy guidance deserve naught but summary execution!" Priomb barked as he began to kick and stomp at the corpse beneath him now, his men stunned and uncertain what to do as their superior thrashed the remains. Isolde remained impassive, waiting for the right moment to make a move that could further ensure her survival. Priomb was unpredictable but his instability gave openings, openings which Isolde sought to exploit after she had stalled for as much time as she could.
Once Priomb's bout of violence ceased and he regained his former calm veneer Isolde gave a small bow, finally taking action and playing off his words and mentality since despite everything Priomb was close to the mark regarding obedience towards one's superior officer.
"I agree: to question one's superior in the Imperium is tantamount to treason. Respect ought to be earned, not given freely, but I shall grant you the respect and dues you are owed as a servant of the Imperium."
This earned Priomb's attention and interest, with the powerful man smirking as Isolde's lowered nature left him momentarily above her in height. She was beneath him in not only station but stature now in his view, the way it ought to be, and so he gave his approval immediately to such a display.
"It seems that you are not so unreasonable after all. If only all of your putrid kind could be so obedient then this would all be easier."
Isolde kept her head bowed as she prostrated herself before him, a simple ploy to drag things out while also lowering his guard at the same time. She removed one gauntlet to expose the eerily pale skin that lay beneath as well as the ring she wore upon it given to her as a seal of authority by her father, a relic dating back to the time of the Great Crusade with craftsmanship since lost to the Imperium. Running her other hand over it briefly, Isolde extended her hand forward with her fingers clenched as if she was holding something to give to Priomb.
"I, Isolde Kohlenstoff, Commandant of the Kimaran Krakens, impart to Priomb, formerly of the Wostyn Hounds and now of the Sons of the Emperor, the following judgment..."
In a fight at this range and with all of his men supporting him Isolde knew she had no way to defeat Priomb, a man built to slaughter his way across a battlefield with a hulking physique to match. That did not however mean she was helpless, and so as Priomb moved closer to accept whatever it was she was offering him Isolde activated the digital weapon within her ring to fire a piercing blast straight through his torso with power enough to crack a vehicle's hull. His luscious robes were suddenly coated by blood as he coughed and lurched forward in sudden shock, only for his resulting instability to cause him to fall back and leave him vulnerable to Isolde's bolt pistol which now pointed down at his skull at enough of a distance that he could not disarm her from where he lay.
"Execution is the greatest reward one of your ilk could hope to receive for your dereliction of duty and cowardice in the face of Humanity's foes. Be grateful you have been treated so generously," Isolde commented ruthlessly, possessing not a single shred of sympathy for the man before her. Perhaps she could have handled things differently, perhaps she could have opted for a peaceful solution if such a thing was possible, but ever since the battle's end this moment had been on her mind. Justice must be meted out, the guilty ought to be punished for the slaughter which could have been avoided, and now Priomb was at her mercy and her hostage.
Now addressing the other men present Isolde began to get a better look around to see how the others reacted to her sudden attack, surprised to find them surprisingly meek in its aftermath as not a single one stepped forward or opened fire, "Lay down your arms or you all shall face Imperial justice! This is your only opportunity, and those who do not take it shall be granted no mercy!"
They did not know that her ring only held a single charge like most digital weapons, with some of those dating back to the Great Crusade and Horus Heresy possessing raw power equivalent to plasma guns or even lascannons. Recharging it would prove difficult, but it had fulfilled its purpose by blindsiding Priomb who instead of receiving an offered gift was pierced through his lung and had a hole punched out of his abdomen. Without medical attention he would die soon, and that was just fine with Isolde so long as he lasted long enough for her to secure a way out of this situation.
Unfortunately for her Priomb possessed a powerful relic of his own, with his fallen form disappearing and then reappearing behind some of his men as if he had teleported. The benefits of piracy and fighting Xenos as a part of the Imperial Guard included access to technology that few others could ever have access to, and despite his belief in himself as a morally righteous member of the Imperium such artifacts were not beyond Priomb's interest for usage in dire circumstances. The ability to teleport short distances and avoid danger was not something many knew about given that he tended to kill all foes who would witness it, but now it allowed him to get out of being Isolde's hostage in a way she could not have foreseen.
Isolde cursed to herself as she realized what happened and grabbed a stray lasgun nearby her to open fire on the Wostyn soldiers who wasted no time in firing back now that Isolde no longer had their superior officer in her clutches. As this firefight began Priomb tried to bark orders to them only for his grievous wound to continually interrupt him as he limped away from the battlefield.
"Get...her...dead or alive...I don't care, just..."
He disappeared into the ruins beyond, likely utilizing his personal technology to flee to safety while he left his men to clean up the mess left behind. Isolde had not fired through his heart out of the desire to use him against his own men, but now she found herself regretting that she lost her window to repay him for what he did. Another in her place may have tried to handle it all differently, but for Isolde there was no option except to swiftly carry out her duties as Commissar since that was what Priomb was owed by his actions. Her authority as Commissar placed her above almost every other Imperial servant on the planet and so Priomb had been right that opposing one's superior officer was liable to result in punishment, and it was so fitting to put him down like a rabid animal following it but such an ironic twist was not meant to be.
A commissar had to be judge, jury, and executioner at times to properly carry out their duties and that was something that fit to Isolde's unforgiving nature. If someone needed to be dealt with she would without hesitation no matter who they were, a heartless witch to the craven and a cold executioner to those who drew her ire. Unlike the civilians who currently lingered at the edge of this block observing the conflict unfold she took action, and while it might not always be ideal it was always calculated to best uphold her values while not sacrificing her life needlessly. Had she simply submitted the chances that the governor would kill her were slim given the circumstances between him and the Commandant, and in fact her likelihood of survival would have been far higher than the route she chose to follow instead.
Pragmatism was valued on Kimara, but Isolde had her father's ideals, those of the Kimara of years passed by, instilled in her since her earliest days and she proudly carried them in her. The tenets, the traits, the very core of what it meant to be Kimaran was who she was and it was simply inconceivable to abide by certain injustices. Dairine might handle them in her own way in the dark, and Verita her own in the shadows, but Isolde was front and center in every activity she engaged in. She would kill a Kimaran the same as she would a soldier from Wostyn if either of them dared to cross the line, for her sense of justice was absolute and did not abide half-hearted responses.
It was very likely about to get her killed in a firefight she could have avoided, but that was irrelevant: it was the right thing to do in her books, and it would spare her whatever fate the Conomors had in mind for her. If she died she died upholding her virtues, and if she lived she will have put them to action by slaying those who stood in opposition.
The distance between them and the fact that she possessed a personal shield atop her reinforced armor meant that much of the incoming firepower never even laid a scratch on her, but those utilizing shotguns slowly closed in on her to make their pellets better strike at her and her shielding. She was fortunately able to return fire out of said shielding, but things that drew too close to her would be far more difficult to deter like the bullets and lasgun fire now impacting the shield harmlessly.
Isolde focused her own lasgun fire on the closest of the mercenaries to stop their approach, rushing towards him as her weapon tore through his desert tunic thanks to his lack of refractor shielding. While he stumbled Isolde bashed her gun down on him to knock him down, then fired into his exposed throat to finish him before leaping away from him to keep moving and lower the chances of being struck by more incoming fire. She could not absorb it all with her defense field, but by lessening the amount that made contact with her shield Isolde could perhaps further stall for time.
Unfortunately for her the injury to her leg made her sudden movement make her leg buckle beneath her when she landed, Isolde gritting her teeth as she forced herself back up to accurately gun down the next closest soldier as his compatriots all continued to shoot her. The target she chose tried to avoid her lasgun fire but rubble from the prior battle slowed his movement and allowed Isolde to strike him in the side and cause him to trip and fall over a corpse. Unable to properly finish him off given where he fell, Isolde twisted around and fired at the first soldier she saw. It was a losing battle even if she was preying upon some of their more vulnerable members, but that did not mean she had to give up.
Her shielding faltered momentarily given the sheer volume of fire output by the Wostyn soldiers present, their approach to the battle being simple yet effective by just overwhelming her with sheer numbers and strength while not taking risks. Their orders from the governor himself made it dangerous to act without a certain degree of control, and the fact that she was desired alive meant that they had to control their shots to focus on her lower body to lessen the chance that they might strike her heart or head. This limitation did not mean no stray fire struck at her helmet when her shield would fall for a moment, but it was by chance rather than design as the two sides exchanged fire.
Isolde grit her teeth as she could feel her armor get seared at various points by the lasguns firing at her, the carapace mostly stopping the shotgun pellets thus far but already she could feel some of their ilk having embedded into the protective gear. They stopped the bullets thus far and undamaged parts of it likely could take even more punishment, but her defenses which far outstripped those of her opposition were not perfect and would eventually fail. That inevitability did not mean she had to surrender though, as the inevitable moment when she began to take the damage herself only further inspired Isolde to continue fighting back to delay it.
To have survived the Yormungaros and then die to these rats would be pathetic in Isolde's mind, and so she tossed aside the lasgun in her hands when a stray shot damaged it only to then pick up another and keep firing. Perseverance was key and so even as her body became bruised beneath the armor protecting her Isolde kept fighting on against her foes whose mission hamstrung their lethality: they were fighting to capture but Isolde was fighting to kill, and so she held back nothing.
A shotgun wielding soldier approached Isolde with the intent of blowing her legs off only for her to twist around and engage him next, firing at him a split second before he properly aimed at her legs: the resulting exchange saw her lasgun tear through his torso and arm, throwing his aim off and firing far higher than initially intended. While they exchanged fire the other mercenaries continued their own attacks in a coordinated volley of lasgun fire that together overloaded her shielding, a ploy by the soldiers to finally deal with her formidable protection and open Isolde up for debilitating shots that could then cripple her and make capturing her simple.
The lack of coordination between the veterans who knew to time their shots with one another to get past the shielding and the more rookie member who fired the shotgun meant however that they opened the path for his blast to rip across Isolde's upper torso and head with minimal shielding to protect her. Her helmet had fulfilled its purpose: the shotgun blast had struck across its armored plating and visor both, but no projectiles penetrated fully through it. The lack of proximity had caused the pellets to spray across Isolde's body and lessened the overall concussive force to any one part of her, allowing her armor to properly mitigate almost all of the damage sustained. What impact still remained forced Isolde to stumble from a bout of disorientation, and her visor had been further damaged to the point of obscuring her vision where the pellets cracked it.
Faced with either protecting her head and being blind to the threats around her or discarding the helmet and regaining her vision, Isolde rapidly removed the piece of equipment impeding her ability to respond to the Wostyn soldiers. Years of training with the very same gear had taught Isolde how to efficiently handle it both in the comfort of the Schola and in the field. While grateful to the helmet which just saved her head from being torn to pieces Isolde considered it a tool to be discarded once it no longer was fit for purpose: to hold onto it for even a moment would be unnecessary sentimentality and for those trained at Kimara's Schola Progenium pragmatism and efficiency were core tenets of their doctrine.
This tossing of her helmet aside was made possible by her personal shielding restarting and deflecting the other projectiles fired at her for the short duration it took. It might not stop every single shot heading her way, but it was powerful and more capable than the typical refractor fields utilized by Imperial officers. If not for her present circumstances Isolde would ponder the possible requisition and feasibility of numerous such devices, as the Imperial Rosarius was not particularly large yet possessed significant stopping power on its own and could perhaps further her defensive prowess.
Once her head was free of her helmet Isolde swept down to grab the shotgun of one fallen soldier while her shield redirecting a blast of pellets headed her way from the same soldier who damaged her helmet. In response Isolde lifted her own acquired shotgun and opened fire right back at him, blowing the man off his feet and tearing through his abdominal armor. Despite being shot at by the very same model of weapon the damage inflicted was severely different simply due to the fact Isolde's shielding could shrug off most of the incoming fire she faced while the soldier's lack of such protection meant he had to endure the full blast.
A hail of energy striking from behind forced Isolde to momentarily shift forward, some of the lasgun fire managing to strike through her shielding and hit the back of her armor where it dissipated. The damage to her own body was minimal, but scorch marks showed where it had struck the hardened carapace she wore.
From where she was struck Isolde could estimate the position of who fired at her, allowing her to twist around and open fire as one fluid motion that obliterated the arm of the lasgun wielder. The man had been rushing towards her as he fired to try and bypass her shield which in turn made her retaliatory shot tear through his armor and body. This did not deter him however, as with his uninjured arm he grabbed a Power Sword from his side and lifted it up to swing down at Isolde.
With no tool to parry the blade and her shotgun in need of reloading Isolde followed her training and lunged forward where the blade would slip past her. The soldier's arm overextended and his other in tatters, Isolde slammed her armored forearm and the shotgun she wielded across his face and upper torso with all of her strength. While nowhere as strong as the Astartes she nearly stood as tall as Isolde still had trained her body since her earliest years and possessed enough mass behind her colossal form to slam the shorter man off his feet with one sudden strike.
Another Wostyn soldier approached Isolde from behind, roaring in anger likely at the death of one of his comrades or kin, but that very Human emotional response clued Isolde into where he was. Before she could finish off the soldier she had just knocked prone she was forced to kick out a leg back into this new threat, catching him off-guard as her lengthy limb extended with the force one would expect given the raw muscle packed in her thighs. The swinging kick back twisted him around and gave Isolde the opportunity to pivot on her other leg to smash her shotgun across his back and knock him onto the ground like his comrade.
While possessing her own form of grace it was evident from her movements that Isolde was on the backfoot and was scrambling from moment to moment to eliminate whatever threat was closest to her at that point in time. Any finesse or precision was being sacrificed for rapid responses that would buy her the next window of time to react to another threat, and if not for her personal shielding Isolde would have already been overwhelmed. As much as she was a peak example of the female Kimaran form Isolde was still just a Human at the end of the day, one trained for years to reach her potential and to have the skills necessary to fend off whatever threat she faced, but she lacked the superhuman reflexes and swiftness her close friend possessed. It was everything she could do to just hold these soldiers off while they impeded themselves to try and take her alive, while if Dairine was in her place they would likely have been cut down with ruthless efficiency already.
The lack of ammunition in the shotgun she held forced Isolde to grab her bolt pistol from her side to fire down at the soldier in front of her, executing him before he could regain his footing as his cranium and blood splattered across the snow that had fallen into the Fortress City's exposed block. By now the lasgun soldier had begun to lift himself back up with his blade in hand, forcing Isolde to then deal with him even as incoming gunfire struck at her shielding and bits broke through to strike her armor. Twisting around again, Isolde collided her foot into his face in a makeshift roundhouse kick that knocked him down again and bought her the moment she needed to fire a pistol round through his skull with the practiced talent of a Commissar.
Despite eliminating the two closest threats to her Isolde still stood in what had become a crossfire from the Wostyn regiment, and so even as she finished off the two men she had only a moment to reload the shotgun with stray ammunition on the corpses around her before she had to stand again and return fire. The near success at reaching her had emboldened the remaining soldiers and so they were closing in on her while snap-firing their weapons at their target, trading raw accuracy for proximity with which they could fully overwhelm Isolde. Her mental fog from the impacts she had already taken and the near panic her situation thrust upon her blinded Isolde to the fact that she was winded and breathing fairly heavily, but it was evident to her foes thanks to her lack of helmet which revealed her features.
Prioritizing the one closest to her as their lasgun fire harmlessly dissipated off her shielding, Isolde fired thrice into him before he finally fell dead right before her feet. A man right behind him caught her next shot directly in the chest and so his charge was halted momentarily, but his armor fulfilled its purpose and saved his vitals from any damage. While Isolde had fired that shot into him another nearby soldier had managed to draw blood from her with a shotgun blast that caught her side. The hardened carapace armor she wore negated much of the damage, but it was damaged in the process and so in an ironic twist it was the armor's deformed nature from the blast which directly cut into her. Like her helmet before it the armor did its job, but now that portion was more impeding than beneficial with how it was actively cutting into Isolde's side and restricting her movements to a degree.
Rather than risk taking another hit from the same angle that would risk her actual flesh Isolde shifted her stance to have armor facing the shotgun, taking another hit that was partially blocked by her shielding but also had some pellets strike through and impact across her still protected midsection. In retaliation Isolde lifted her own pillaged shotgun to fire back at him, securing her feet to the ground with her boots' ability to lock down for ice and snow-filled terrain. With her feet secured in a more open stance it allowed Isolde to hold the shotgun in one arm and to brace its kickback with her body while simultaneously grabbing her pistol from where she had reflexively holstered it at her side. With bolt pistol in one hand and her shotgun cradled in her other arm she traded shotgun fire with one target while gunning down the other with her pistol, the kickback of both weapons straining her body but it being the only way she could properly deal with both threats.
Isolde paid more attention to the shotgun wielder rather than the other soldier whose firearm had been knocked away from him and who sought to instead swing a curved blade at her. The training she had to undergo to become a commissar saw her relentlessly train with the bolt pistol and so without even directly looking she was able to use her peripheral vision to fire shots into his center mass. The damage already done by her prior gunfire saw the bolter rounds tear through his chest before Isolde weaponized the recoil to fire a shot up into his skull with the final round in her clip.
Her shotgun fire eventually broke through the armor of the opposing shotgun wielder as she focused her efforts on wielding that firearm, its raw firepower and resulting force back upon her necessitating such attention as compared to the relative nature of the bolt pistol in her hand. Despite his armor being shredded the man's zeal carried him forward and he managed to stab at Isolde with a custom Power Sword that was half the size of a typical one. Isolde's shielding failed for a moment after trying to respond to this threat, and so she was forced to sacrifice the shotgun in her hand to stop the blade from
reaching her body. Wrenching the shotgun up and over the soldier's head, Isolde forced the Power Sword up as well and grabbed down at his side where a laspistol was holstered.
As Isolde grabbed hold of the laspistol her own sidearm hit the ground, discarded because its lack of ammunition and time to reload made it worthless to her. She struggled to properly aim the stolen laspistol for a moment as she and the Wostyn mercenary struggled over the shotgun his nimble Power Sword was embedded within, its size making it adept for extremely close-quarters situations but lacking the full strength of a larger blade. His usage of two hands meant that he was winning the struggle, and while he sought to tear free from the damaged firearm and strike directly at Isolde she was only able to alter the path of his swing and have it graze her arm. The armor there was completely sheared off, but thanks to its reinforced nature Isolde herself was spared more than superficial damage right as her faltering shielding managed to block his follow-up strike and buy her the moment she needed to fire his own pistol right into his chest, neck, and chin with a desperate flurry of shots.
So focused was she on the power struggle over the shotgun that Isolde did not at first notice that she had dislodged one of her feet from its anchoring to shift and avoid the Power Sword's swing, or that she had been sustaining concentrated lasgun fire into her back where the shielding only managed to now impede parts of it. The heat of the gunfire reached her as the lasguns finally overcame her back armor, but by the time Isolde could dislodge her other foot and properly respond she was face to face with a brute of a man far larger than his kin tackling her off her feet.
Isolde slammed down onto the cold snow and felt its wet nature sneak into her semi-exposed back, her outer armor penetrated at points but not yet shot through thanks to the emphasis on protection Kimarans had in their personal armor. A typical Imperial Guard flak jacket would have been fully destroyed by this point, but the armor prepared for her by the Commandant was well beyond the standards of the soldiers thrown into war by the Guard and instead was second only to a suit of Power Armor. While he did not outwardly show much warmth or favoritism for his daughter it was evident to all that the Commandant prioritized her safety above almost anything, and he would not have her deploy in anything less than the best he could requisition for her specific duties.
As the snow began to seep into her tunic Isolde brought a leg up to her chest and planted it into the man who tackled her, dislodging him with a forceful kick straight into his gut beneath where his armor plating protected. Unlike Isolde whose abnormal size was accounted for by the Schola for her personal gear, the large size of this Wostyn soldier was not as compensated by his own superiors who likely viewed him as nothing more than a grunt given the prison tattoos and markings he possessed which showed that he was recruited from less than ideal circumstances on his part.
The kick was strong, but thanks to the sizable mass possessed by the former criminal he was not knocked off his feet and instead was just forced back onto them from his position atop Isolde. He had struck at the moment he had due to noticing her boots were not stabilizing her, showing that despite his massive physique he was also crafty and a greater threat than the fodder that was being thrown at Isolde to wear her down.
As he regained his footing two others reached Isolde and stabbed down at her prone form, seeking to disable her arms during this period of limited mobility and its resulting vulnerability. The first instead saw his dagger disarmed near reflexively by Isolde's years of training at the Schola which included how to wrench a foe's weapon from them, while the second had his own blade stopped at the last moment by the dagger Isolde had just stolen. Throwing her shoulder up into the chin of the man now looming inches above her, Isolde slashed her dagger across his wrist not on purpose but as a result of her conditioning and training. She was fighting on instinct alone and while her foes were seeking to possibly take her alive their lives meant nothing to her in return, giving her an edge to exploit even if she was not rationally thinking in the moment.
His blade fell at Isolde's side as the damage done to his wrist forced him to drop it, and Isolde used the opening to smash the blunt end of the weapon into his skull and knock him away as she used her other arm to resist the other man's attempt to reclaim his weapon. His efforts were successful in that he did take back the dagger, but the manner he achieved this was through having it shoved into and through the back of his throat. Isolde shoved his dying form away from her as she twisted over to punch the man on her other side in the face, his attempt to grab his weapon again drawing him in close enough to Isolde for her to reach him.
While he was stunned for this brief moment Isolde retrieved his weapon before him and slashed upwards at his torso, abusing his attempt to take her in alive and slaying him outright. Any respite this may have bought her was vanquished as the leviathan man returned, his height almost matching Isolde's own and his general breadth and depth far greater such that he likely possessed a mass equivalent to five of Isolde. With a kick to her exposed side Isolde was sent tumbling over before she could stop herself against the dead body of a soldier she had already slain. Now laying face down, Isolde tried to rise up only to have the man's boot stamp down into her spine.
This impact forced the air out of Isolde as she fought to struggle against the weight stepping down upon her to no avail. Reaching down, the giant grabbed Isolde by the back of the head and slammed her face down into the snow that already had formed a thick layer atop the city's surface. Isolde twisted her head so that her nose would not be broken upon striking the hard surface, the snow helping to lessen the damage but her head still ringing from the impact.
Focusing his efforts on Isolde's right arm, the soldier stepped down onto it and moved to snap it with leverage...only to realize a moment too late that Isolde had rolled over to draw her body closer to the arm and had with her other arm twisted her lengthy limb to stab into his groin with a hastily grabbed blade. Isolde's breath was ragged, her body was bleeding from numerous points, her armor was in tatters, but so long as she could still fight she would do so.
It was already the nature of Kimarans to fight to the end rather than surrender, but Isolde's childhood had included her observation of videos that the Imperium would no doubt consider heretical: she saw how the Iron Warriors fought, endured, and in particular admired the way that one Neophyte refused to give in. Even if every bone in her body was broken in the process she would not admit defeat, and that was a weapon in and of itself. Her enhancements may not have made her considerably stronger than a Human of her size ought to be, but she did possess raw toughness beyond what one would expect and so by treating her like a normal woman her foes had underestimated her durability and resolve.
Each moment in the fight so far had been a desperate struggle for survival, a conflict between those of competing motives and emotions and their foe whose only goal was to live. Instead of fighting to kill her foes Isolde instead prioritized whatever bought her that next moment of life, and so while she did eliminate her targets it was only when the opportunity presented itself and another threat was not directly presenting itself.
That the 'Sons of the Emperor' or whatever they called themselves held back their underlings carried out their orders, expendable troops who had yet to climb to the upper echelons of their society. It was evident that the veterans only held back from fighting because they were commanded to, their lust for glory almost overpowering their resolve. Lowly mercenaries like those being sent forward were cheap and expendable to a planetary force which had countless more to draw from while the veterans of numerous wars and conflicts could not be so easily replaced, so they would rather a dozen of their goons
fall than one of their own even if their superior training and coordination would overwhelm Isolde immediately. It was ruthless and cutthroat, but it was the ideal option from a point of resources: slain mercenaries did not have to be paid after all, and it was not like the Conomors were so foolish as to pay them upfront given the risk of mercenaries fleeing once their monetary compensation was acquired or no longer tenable for them.
If these conscripts to their force wanted to enter into their esteemed ranks they would have to prove themselves and earn the right to not be thrown away like trash, and so despite their rising casualties the eager young men continued to fight for their own future prosperity and comfort. The rising star that was Wostyn in the sector held boundless possibilities for its sons who served upon Kimara, and so it was vital that they seize upon whatever opportunity came their way before someone else did and claimed whatever high bounty that would follow.
That very same greed was not lost to even those who had secured their future however, and so one of the veterans broke rank and leapt into the conflict the moment Isolde was knocked off her feet. All that mattered was who captured her in the end, not who brought her down, and so while she wrenched and twisted the blade lodged within the behemoth the opportunistic veteran seized the opportunity granted to attack Isolde from a different angle.
All Isolde could do in the short window of time she had to respond to the sudden threat was to roll over and elbow his wrist to force his stab downward aimed at her shoulder to instead impale the ground beside her with his Power Sword. She could feel its energy radiate from where it lay as the snow around it melted, but it was not enough to stop him. The veteran stomped down on her upper torso and pinned her down once again through force, drawing a more personal dagger to cut down at her and negate her as a threat.
Instead a shotgun blast knocked the veteran off his feet mid-swing, not killing him outright but the force strong enough to carry his body through the air as it punched a hole straight through his armor. Unlike its descendant utilized by those from Wostyn, the original model of shotgun used on Kimara was concentrated and traded area of effect for penetrative power.
A confused Isolde was given reprieve finally thanks to an unknown source, and it took her a moment to gather herself given her lack of breath and her dizzied head. After a few moments Isolde managed to at least lift her upper body up enough to look around, finding that other veteran soldiers had moved in to assist their fellow comrade or possibly to claim the glory for themselves. They were greedy, but there was a genuine brotherhood between those with a cultish reverence for the Emperor of Mankind, and after fighting together for years their bonds were deep.
This all would mean immediate defeat for Isolde in her condition if not for the source of the shotgun blast that knocked one of their members back. Beyond the veteran members Isolde's blurred vision could make out the forms of the local civilians who had gathered around the conflict, and in their hands were the weapons of the fallen from the Yormungaros battle. They might accept the seeming righteous punishment of a lawbreaker or rebel, but the Commissar who had just saved their city was under assault by those who refused to stand in its defense: the Emperor of Mankind's servant and extension of his will was under threat, and their personal debt accrued by Isolde's actions that day meant that their competing loyalties in the conflict won out in her favor. It was unorganized and organic, but once one drew a weapon so too did the others who had gathered until one became ten that became fifty and more.
Like Isolde the veteran soldiers had their own personalized gear and for many that included refractor fields and reinforced armor, each of them personally capable of going toe to toe with the well-equipped Tempestus of the Schola who had superior training even if they lacked the same field experience and knowledge one accrued through actual conflict. These were some of the top soldiers of the Imperium, a small fraction of the veterans who were mostly kept cloistered around the Planetary Governor, but when fired upon from behind unexpectedly even they could fall.
The sudden turnabout caught the Wostyn soldiers off-guard, having spent years knowing the Kimarans to be blindly obedient to their authority figures and thus mistakenly presuming themselves safe from backlash. Individuals might rise in defiance when pushed to the brink, but no large group had ever formed because so often those lording over the Kimarans were the sole authority figures present. By considering themselves above Isolde in importance and jurisdiction the Sons of the Emperor had erroneously thought that those around them perceived the situation the same way.
That they were wrong in such a presumption was why some of them were caught unaware by the shotguns pointed at their backs.
While potent in their own right, refractor fields were inferior to the personal shield protecting Isolde through much of the battle until it was worn down. As such the initial volley of the growing group of rioters barely scratched most of their targets, but two Wostyn men were cut down immediately as they closed in on Isolde while a third had much of his leg removed.
In response to this the veterans commanded their lesser counterparts to redirect their attention on the crowd gathered, the natural result of which was a widescale firefight. While the veterans had mostly been protected by their individual gear the conscripts had been largely torn apart when suddenly they were fired upon from behind, a cowardly tactic perhaps but one which no Kimaran present cared to consider as such: it was simply the smart move if one was to engage the soldiers present, to attack them while their attention was all diverted to one point. Pragmatism won over concepts such as glory or honor, and that was exactly why they had formed such strong bonds with the Iron Warriors once upon a time. Such traits had only been honed over the years and so the rioters took up arms without reservation or a single ounce of guilt concerning how.
Isolde had fought for them and had executed a military officer for daring to not do the same, and so it was only natural that even these civilians who had never seen her before that day would possess feelings of loyalty towards her. Isolde had struck a memorable figure throughout the prior battle, leading her forces directly and only outlasting them due to her superior training rather than cowardice and hiding behind them the way the Wostyn garrison had. Those who had fought and perished were their kin, friends, and coworkers, and to have lost them in such an avoidable way was not only heart wrenching to even the icy Kimarans, it was also a waste and wasted lives and sacrifices were anathema to their culture.
A Fortress City could possess a wealth of civilians within its walls, and while their access to firearms was limited every Wostyn soldier who fell granted one or more to the mob forming around where the Yormungaros struck. It was inevitable that some more of the civilians rising up would fall, but as they did more stepped forward to take their place and their weapons to overwhelm the mercenaries the same way they had done to Isolde. Unlike Isolde however no reinforcements were to come for the Wostyn soldiers, for despite the screeching of Shetth the Skitarii stationed within the inner walls did not deploy to put down the riot. His commands had been overridden by others who sympathized with the plight beyond their facility, and while he possessed followers within their ranks not all within their own upper echelons were subservient to the planetary governor. Other members of the Wostyn garrison found themselves locked out in other segments of the base, their command codes overridden by other members of the Mechanicus.
The conflict was brief given its circumstances, but as it drew to an inevitable, swift conclusion Isolde found herself rising to join those who were following what could be considered their biological programming in fighting back. Her injuries prevented her from contributing a great deal more than she already had, but simply standing tall and towering above all the others within the ensuing chaos gave the rioters a rallying point. The only kill she would personally see to throughout the remainder of the fight was that of the giant who sought to avenge his severe wound to his lower body, with Isolde coldly gunning him down with her retrieved and reloaded bolt pistol. It had been passed along to her by a Kimaran woman whose wrinkles and silver hair showed that they had survived many years upon the Death World and that they were a veteran in their own right, and Isolde appreciated the gesture of handing her the weapon to continue fighting even merely standing was difficult now.
That the Kimarans were cowed into subservience was not because they were meek by nature or too weak to protect themselves in any manner, but rather it was their conditioning all their lives to believe that they carried the guilt of their ancestors and had to repent even if in their hearts they did not believe what they were told. To survive on Kimara was to fight for your life every time you stepped outside the safety of your city to carry out back-breaking labor and fend off abominable creatures as well as nature itself, and so while many of the civilians now rising up did not have official military training almost all knew the basics required to see to their continued existence on a world that actively sought to kill everything upon it.
Enduring upon a world that so violently treated all those upon it was the shared legacy and tradition of their people, and so when given reason to fight back they did so with the same cold-hearted and ruthless way they would engage any of the wild beasts they could encounter in the wilderness. Stoic endurance was not just bred into them at this point, it was actively enforced by Kimara itself as a planet as excess energy wasted was energy that could have been used to see to your very survival. A blizzard did not care if its sudden tempest of winds and its frigid particles unfairly caught you in a vulnerable moment, the Yormungaros would actively prey upon your misery, and weakness would be instantly exploited by Hoarverns and more as soon as it was sensed.
Most of those who rallied around Isolde were not anywhere near as capable as their lost husbands, their brothers, or their sons who were now lost to Kimara, but they had survived these past decades without them and so possessed a fair modicum of experience. On the surface they were simple civilians with only menial skillsets, but the fact that they were alive at all spoke to their resilience. They might be utterly lacking in certain other traits such as the willingness to attempt diplomacy as evidenced by their opening fire rather than dialogue, but what they could do they did well. This very trait was part of what made them readily act in Isolde's defense, her firefight having only spanned a brief span of time despite all that happened in those dire moments.
Dire moments which happened to have been captured by the integrated camera of a helmet discarded in the battle. Said helmet was now worn atop Bo's head after he joined his master in the conflict's aftermath, the creature desiring the object for its shiny visor and how it smelled of his owner even if the exterior was cracked and had shotgun fragments lodged in it.
By the time Isolde was retrieved by the Tempestus team she contacted she had nearly collapsed from her injuries, only still standing thanks to the support of the civilians who came to her aid. It was not a long wait at all but it did reinforce to Isolde that she made the right decision, as for the first time in her life she saw her people
smiling. They had fought and saved someone in had already fought to save them mere minutes before, and they did so with full legal support of the Imperium by helping answer the call for justice the Commissar put out.
They were alive and for many this was the first taste of victory they had in their entire lives, an addicting taste to those who had never had such a spark illuminate their existence or bring warmth to their frozen spirits. Isolde had been sent to acquire allies for the future the Commandant sought, and by carrying out her civic duty to her fellow Kimarans she had earned favor that would see all of
Fakultat rally behind them in honor of the young woman whose stubborn, unforgiving and merciless stand mirrored the feelings they had kept buried within them for years.
Isolde had nearly gotten herself killed for principle and pride, but the risk she took paid off and would carry forward in ways she could not have imagined in the tumultuous days to come.
(Part 1)