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01/09/12(Mon)19:49 No.59641394 File1326156540.jpg-(404 KB, 597x1793, 1215148308972.jpg)
"Exitus Acta Probat: the Outcome Justifies the Deed." -Dictum Vindicare
The Vindicare creed is that enemies of the Imperium of Man die ignoble
deaths. No trials for these heretics, no recognition of any ability they
hold, not even a record of their order to be killed. A quick, surgical
procedure; a reflexive, impassive reaction to eliminate an enemy that
leaves behind only the slightest of blemishes, soon to be hushed up and
covered for fear of prompting more invisible, bureaucratic executions.
Traitors and rebels may gird themselves for the unlimited waves of
guardsmen crushing their towns underfoot, continent-disintegrating
orbital bombings, and fearless, unstoppable, merciless space marines.
Yet how they quail when, oh-so-casually, their honored leader, prophet,
demagogue, idol, chosen one, noble general, great hero, neighbor,
friend, mother, father, child, or beloved falls lifeless, a round dark
hole in their forehead. "Do not fail." Most munitions that this
assassin had dealt with previously have been subsonic: quiet, subtle
machines that are expected to be kept hidden and assembled on site.
Other dogmas stated that all weapons had to be popular with those
populations that were to be affected, to show the Emperor's judgment
came from the people. And then there was the Exitus rifle. Tough
enough to break a terminator's Tactical Dreadnought Armor, quiet enough
to not wake the baby you are using for a fire brace. It is immense,
huge and unwieldy, one-point-eight-seven meters long when deployed,
nearly as tall as the man carrying it, and weighing eight kilograms
unloaded, a full nine loaded. "One shot is all I need." |