//Bodycam footage – Angel Cartel raid on Chaneya VII. Monastery of His Holy Peace//
The footage is silent for the first thirty seconds. It’s dark and grainy, a small part of the bottom left portion of the screen is taken up by a camouflaged helmet, clearly the user’s. In front of him stand two great golden double doors. He stacks next to it as the sound comes online.
“Breaching charge!” A shout goes down the line, several other men and women can be seen. Wearing Republic Fleet uniforms and carrying standard issue Republic Fleet small arms. A woman runs up from the back, placing two small bricks of explosive on the door.
“Prepare for breach, cover!” The camera goes dark as the user crouches and turns.
“Breaching” The woman yells. Immediately a low thump can be heard, the user turns and boots the door. It crashes open, revealing a garden courtyard cast in golden light. Colonnades on all sides and a fountain in the middle.
“To the chapel! Azrael has them herded in there.”
The user and the other soldiers move swiftly, professionally. It’s possible to see his weapon up at the low ready. They move straight ahead, to the rear of the gardens. As they move it’s possible to see the bodies of two guards in deep pools of crimson. One’s throat has been slashed, the other lays on his back, a knife still buried in his eye socket.
“■■■■” A voice can be heard, thick with mirth “Azrael doesn’t ■■■■ around.”
“Quiet” a gruffer voice says. “Keep to the mission. We’re here to rescue the Matari.”
They pass through the doors at the end, down a long corridor lit with stained glass. At the end of the corridor is the chapel. The door flanked with statues of Imperial saints. The user stacks on one side of the door. He nods to the soldier on the opposite side before slicing the pie and pushing through.
The chapel is a traditional Khadorian design, flooded with a low golden light which leaves the alcoves and area behind the altar cloaked in darkness. Imperial flags and flags of House Khador hand either side of the altar. There are about twenty rows of pews, the brothers and sisters of the monastery take up the pews, heads down as if in prayer. Silent but for the occasional whimper, as the soldier passes them a few can be seen shaking, shivering. He steps over a wet pool as he passes one of them.
“Azrael!” The gruff voice calls out “Stop ■■■■■■■ around, is the product in place?” A small laugh rings out from the darkness behind the altar. Two glowing yellow eyes appear as a figure steps forward, dressed in slave’s work uniform. The sleeves stained a dark red. Azrael’s skin is coal black as she steps into the light, it fades to very light brown as she steps forward.
“Yea, hun… they’re all ready by the dropsite. Giving thanks for their new found freedom and planning their new lives in Pator. All ready for ya’ll heroes of the republic to step in and save em!” She lifts a bottle, sacramental wine, half empty.
“Wanna drink? Figure we can have some fun with them before we get outta here…” She gestures to the prostate clergy, a wry smirk on her face.