The Plan

They say the Emperor has a plan for everyone. Lynetta didn’t know if that was true. There were a lot of things Lynetta didn’t know. 

What she knew was this: The Emperor had a plan for her, and it was a good plan. 

She hefted the heavy bolter, squeezed the firing stud. A steady stream of thuds. Concussive knocks pushing into her body as she rained gyro-jet retribution upon the enemies of the Mankind. This time it was Orks. Tomorrow, Aeldari perhaps? Cultists? It didn’t matter. Simple plans are the best plans, and in there lay the genius of the Emperor’s plan: Kill His enemies. 

It got no simpler than that.

She smiled a wicked smile as round after round fed in, fired, ejected, spent shells flying like so many Throneday ornaments.

What a blessing to be alive, she thought as another ork’s head exploded from within.

Some saw Lynetta’s commander,  Palatine Zhen, as too reckless. That, throne-forbid, she was too zealous even. Maybe she was. But Zhen got her into the action to do His work, so wasn’t that righteous? Then again, Lynetta’s grasp of theology only took her so far. 

She only knew the important parts. That the God Emperor had a plan, and that he loved her. 

How many of the countless trillions of Imperial citizens got to do what they love, day after day?

Another ork crested the ridge, a cleaver the size of a Rhino’s door hefted above its head. Lynetta dipped the heavy bolter low, squeezed. 3 second burst, letting the muzzle flip rise the gun. Each bolt thudding up the center line of the charging ork, ripping through his body, bifurcating him like a ripped sheet of paper. 

Yes, the God Emperor loved her. 

What else was there to know?