Dark Heresy: Illumination

[Lighthawk]

0811, day 3

"Haxta, if you don't mind," she told Phebia with a smile that was visible in her eyes even if her mouth remained hidden behind her mask.

[Tyyr]

0811

Phebia nodded. "Very well, Haxta."

[Lighthawk]

0811, day 3

Haxta interlaced her fingers, resting her chin on her hands. "What do you make of this plan we've been thrust into?" she asked. "It seems fine enough to me, but I wonder what someone like you, with more knowledge in such things, thinks of it."

[Tyyr]

0811

"It's rushed and reactionary," Phebia said. "Such things never bode well. We will most likely face tougher opposition and cause far more damage than if we'd had time to properly plan and maneuver."

[Lighthawk]

0811, day 3

"Ah," Haxta replied simply. "Do you have family?" she asked, in a tone that seemed to suggest she had not made an aburpt change of topic, but was merely continuing on the present conversation.

[Tyyr]

0811

Phebia's face hardened. "No," she said curtly.

[Lighthawk]

0811, day 3

Haxta glanced over at Phebia for a moment, before returning to gazing out over the gathering. "Me either."

[Tyyr]

0811

Phebia nodded silently as she tightened one of the straps of her rucksack.

[Lighthawk]

0811, day 3

With a sigh, Haxta unlatches her respirator, letting the mask hang to one side by the remaining buckle. She draws in a deep lungful, and coughs slightly on the unfiltered air. "You know, it seems like so many people spend their lives doing things that aren't good for them."

[Tyyr]

0811

Phebia cracks a small smile at that. "It seems that those who do His will are forever endangering their own lives cleaning up the messes made by those who think only of themselves."

[Lighthawk]

0811, day 3

Haxta nodded, her small mouth turning up in a smile. "Exactly. Is it odd that we might come to enjoy that? Not just be happy with knowing we served, did what was right and proper, but enjoyed the danger? Why would a person want something that is bad for them?"

[Tyyr]

0811

"Because we are imperfect bizzare beings. And because there are few things as pleasant to witness as a heretic dying by your hand."

[Lighthawk]

0811, day 3

Haxta chuckled slightly. "Spoken like a true sister of battle." She leaned back slightly, bringing her knees up to her chest. "Imperfect and bizzare...I suppose we are. Hmp, I suppose I'll be expected to fix that about myself. Cut out the imperfection and replace it with sensible and practical metal and circuits."

[Tyyr]

0812

"Don't be so hasty Haxta. Your flesh is a gift of the Emperor. If it's flawed its flawed for a reason."

[Lighthawk]

0812, day 3

Haxta snorted, though in amusement. "Try convincing some of the senior priests of Mars of that. I've already replaced 12.7% of my flesh, and I've barely been official ordained a year now." She held up her left hand, the index finger clearly artifical. The tip of it opened like an iris to reveal the data plug within. "I hardly even considered what it would mean to give up my born flesh before now."