Arcturas Serdali's Story

The silent noise of writing was all that Arcturas had been listening to for the past half an hour or so. Unlike some people who utilized servitors to write, he did so personally. Currently he was just keeping in the habit of a journal, something he had done as a small hobby for a bit now. He knew full well, even before his current situation, no one would be reading it then, let alone now. He finished the page he was currently writing, and carefully closed the book before hiding it away where he kept what little other personal effects that were deemed necessary enough to be brought on board without him requesting them. Standing, he stretched and straightened out his greatcoat, which concealed both his pistols, and he walked out of the room he was given to reside in between missions. He hadn't much time to familiarize himself with the ship, and he would rather know the way the ship was laid out then assume it matched the usual pattern of a standard Imperial vessel. He kept both hands in his pockets, walking with a relaxed pace. He didn't walk anywhere specific, simply wandered and looked around idly, examining anything that could prove useful in the future, for any reason. He caught a glimpse of one man and a cog head talking, and he left them to it rather than interrupt, instead heading towards where the bridge should be, to confirm its location and continue familiarizing himself with the ship layout.

Arcturas would find at least one other person near the bridge- Atellus Kaenar stood at a window, looking out at the stars, frowning slightly. There would be something a bit off about the bridge and the area leading up to it, likely- Something not quite right...

Namely, it was that he was alone. No crewman staffed the halls, nothing but machines and blinking lights. It looked like a single-pilot craft, almost, though large enough to admit many more than that. Any crew seen seemed to be solely occupied with loading and packing.

Atellus turned when the detective entered, surprised. Who's this, then? he wondered, his third eye reaching out to examine him... And then there was pain, the pain of looking into an empty, howling void. He'd felt that pain before, when trying to contact a dead astropath, or when once an ork psyker had blown himself up. Atellus shuddered, a hand going to his face instinctively. By the Emperor, why me? Half-blind and slightly stunned, he would appear to have flinched violently to the detective. He straightened up, trying to hide it. "Hello there," he said, mildly. "I would much appreciate it if you came no closer."

Heavy, steel shod boots clanged loudly across metallic flooring as the stout, broad form of the Squat Engineer stumped out onto the bridge, thumbs hitched into his broad tool-belt and pipe clenched between his teeth.

Looking slowly around the ships command deck spread out before him, Thungrim Thunderfist saw that he was alone, but following the Manling Inquisitor's request that he get to know the ship, the Squat puffed out his cheeks and strolled towards the main control panel.

Coming to a stop before the Manlings ship controls, Thungrim ran an armoured hand along its smooth, metallic surface.

"Ello Lass,"
He grunted in greeting to the manling ship, casting an expert eye over the controls, flashing screens and floating Servo Skulls, taking in the craftsmanship and workings of the primitive technology before him.

"Hmpf."
He muttered, stroking his beard thoughtfully, tapping a few of the controls in an experimental manner as he did so,
"We'll soon get ye up an' running properly darling, don't ye worry! Trust this ole Engineer."

Arcturas saw the man at the bridge entryway before the fellow seemed to detect him. He inclined his head in greeting, gauging the fellows harsh reaction to his presence. Psyker, clearly. Most people were uncomfortable around him, but psykers were unable to be around him properly. It was painful to them, as it was described by one, who was a safe distance away. The psyker requested he come no closer, politely no less, and the detective nodded and actually moved to give the man some more breathing room, moving to lean on the wall. He returned the nod to the very short Squat, if memory served of the abhuman races one would deal with in the Imperium. Directing his attention back to the Psyker, he decided a formal apology was owed to the man.

"Apologies about catching you off guard like that. I'll give you all the room I can, when possible. I know folks ain't comfortable around me, at the best of times." It was a polite way of putting most people subconsciously avoided contact, while psionically active were actually harmed by his presence, depending on proximity. Crossing his arms, he left enough room, by his estimations, the psyker could leave with no real contact with the blank zone, having remained at the passageway that split off in different directions. Considering how few real crew he had come across so far, he made a guess this man was part of the Inquisitor's retinue, and an introduction wouldn't be of any harm.

"Well, might as well introduce myself. Names Arcturas Serdali, detective. I'd offer to shake your hand, but that wouldn't end well, would it?" He half chuckled at the comment, but was obviously aware of the fact he would have to tread carefully around the other man. His reaction said that much. There was bound to be other crew moving about, and others of the Inquisitor's retinue. A psyker in the retinue would be a good idea, although he probably wouldn't be working too closely with the man, simply because of the conflicting talents already obvious. But no need to be harsh or unduly impolite in dealing with him.

Atellus nodded, still guarded. He didn't move yet, his third eye hesitantly probing to see just how far the blank field extended. It felt like repeatedly jamming needles into his brain, but knowing just how much space he would need in the future would be a helpful piece of information to have. "I... Apologize. It is not your fault- Neither of our faults, I suppose. I am Atellus Kaenar, astropath." He blinked, even though he had no real eyes to speak of- An instinctive reflex as he more or less psychically squinted.

Truth be told, he wasn't sure what to think of a blank. He'd heard of them, of course, but never had he actually considered the possibility of meeting one. On one hand, the man was a Blunt- But he took it so far that, in a way, he was like a psyker in the other direction. That, at least, deserved a healthy amount of... Respect, he supposed. They were both tools with a very specific purpose; Even if their functions interfered with each other.

Varn shrugged to Tristan's comment and kept walking down the hallway, Varn retreating into his own thoughts. Varn allowed the Tech-Priest to lead the way, though they didn't talk much after that, and eventually they arrived before the door which led into the Bridge, where Varn, who was still in his own world, entered the door along.
As Varn stepped in, he gave the room a good look and noticed an abnormally short figure that immediately brought suspicion and fear. "Bloody Warp! I didn't know there was a Ratling onboard the ship," Varn said aloud, and pointed to the stomp figure in the room.

Arcturas nodded in response towards the psyker. He had no ill feelings towards the Atellus fellow, despite them being opposite ends of the spectrum. He had to respect the lack pleasantry the fellows went through being around other beings, let alone blanks, so he didn't act with any hostility when dealing with psykers that were not hostile, which was a rarity due to this condition. "It's a pleasure, Mr. Kaener. I guess you would be part of the good Inquisitor's team?"

Arcturas looked up at the PA system as the Inquisitor gave the order to group up, and he nodded towards the psyker as the path lit up. "Show time." With that he went off, a healthy speed thanks to his strides, giving the psyker all the room in the world for moving about. He doubted he and the psyker would really interact much beyond this, simply for the health and sanity's sake of the man.

Volsk nodded and downed his tea, "Mmph! Aahh! delicious. Now, onto business, first thing's first," He reached over to the table next to his chair and picked up a small, grey, metallic box, and tossed it to Arcturas, "That is your limiter, it will limit the void that you create, making your presence here much more bearable for those of us who are of the psychic persuasion." He turned his head to the Navigator seated in the chair next to him, "Ah, the ever beautiful Yolande Visus," He took her hand and kissed it, "How are you today my dear?" They always started briefings with a small bit of banter. As she finished telling him about her day to day events, he stood and adressed the group around him as a few more of his team, already well entrenched in his life, began shuffling their way into the briefing room, "Welcome, those of you who have not had the pleasure of my informal acquaintance, I am Volsk Osbourne, and I offer my hospitality to you. Any questions before we begin?"

Holt made a sound somewhat like that of clearing one's throat.

"If I may my Lord, I have a question of a rather complicated nature regarding this ship which has been troubling me since shortly after I came aboard it. said the Tech-Priest. "In the few hours I have spent aboard this vessel, it has become very apparent to me that the size of this ship's crew is well below the minimum size necessary for the operation of an ordinary ship of this class."

Holt paused for a moment in hesitation.

"I also briefly visited the ship's Enginarium, and found the entrance secured by an advanced gene-lock, something which seems out of place in an area of a vessel that would normally see hundreds of Tech-Adepts and servitors entering and exiting it every day. I would like to know how it is you have achieved this degree of automation. Know that I am making no accusations and mean no disrespect, and that I will accept your decision should you choose not to answer my question, but I would at least like an assurance that this vessel is not tainted by the use of forbidden technologies—namely that of the abominable intelligence—so that I may put my mind at ease regarding this issue." said Holt. As the words left his vox implant, he felt a sense of growing dread as he noticed many of the people in the room were staring—and in the case of the Navigator, glaring—at him.

Omnissiah preserve me, it had to be asked. Have not impliated Gaius, though the Squat will most certainly inform Osbourne that he was there. thought Holt.

Holt nodded. "If I understand what you are saying correctly, I would guess that the virtual intelligence you are referring to a are a form of archeotech voidship cogitator. While I have read of such things in Mechanicus texts, I have never seen one myself; they are exceedingly rare, even among ships belonging to the Priesthood."

"Fascinating." he added.

Across the room, Holt noticed the squat engineer lighting his pipe.

Damnit! Does nobody here understand how much damage smoke inflicts on air filters!? thought Holt.

"I'll graft some runes of protection into the Enginarium, Key Engine parts, Hull an' Bridge,"

"My brother was the Rune Priest but every Engineer knows how tae protect his machinery, they'll banish an' keep out any Daemons that might try tae tamper with the Ships workings... IF we Do happen tae have a Daemon stashed away on board somewhere ye may want tae tell me..."

"I think you misunderstand my question, squat. I was alluding to the possibility that the ship's core bore a soulless sentience, an entity which is entirely the opposite of a daemon, but equally abominable. Either way, I am satisfied with the Inquisitor's answer." said Holt.

"You seem quiet today, my lady, what seems to be the matter?" said the Inquisitor, addressing the Navigator from earlier.

Yolande glanced away from the Tech-Priest to acknowledge the question. Internally, Holt breathed a sigh of relief. Even with a psychic-dampening headband covering her third eye, the glare of the Navigator's unblinking greyish-black eyes was quite disconcerting.

"Oh nothing my lord. There just happens to be a gaping hole in the warp sitting a few feet away from me. He has yet to turn on that limiter device you gave him, and it's giving me a rather dreadful headache. No offense of course Mr Serdali." said the Navigator, looking over at the Detective seated across the room.

Osbourne finished his tea and nodded to the squat, "Ah, excellent question, I suppose i should begin the briefing. After all that is the purpose of this gathering. Business first, play later, as they say." he retrieved a remote from the folds of his robes and clicked one of the buttons on it. A holoprojector whirred to life, and projected in the center of the room a photograph of a man apparently in his late forties, with dark hair, a thin mustache, and a haughty expression. Volsk pointed to the picter, "This is a picture of one Humeras Tolenka, the planetary governor for a little known hive world oout in the Eastern Fringe. He died last night of an inexplicable heart attack." Heclicked the button again, showing the picture of a young woman, possibly in her mid-twenties, "This is Ramanja Coreva, a respected and very wealthy dignitary from the same world, she died three weeks ago, again of an inexplicable heart attack. There are many of these occurances occuring, and I do not mean one or two isolated cases here and there. I mean hundreds of cases popping up every day, all of whic follow a similar, if strange, pattern. They all occur amongst high standing members of society, all those afflicted were young, not nearly old enough to require juvenat of any kind, and they all occur on the same planet. Any questions so far? or is everyone following so far?" He glanced around the room.

Hell's bells, what are they talking about? Runes and 'Daemons'... What are Daemons even? Is it another form of xeno? Varn thought, clearly puzzled by the terms, but the moment the word 'psyker' was said, his lips moved silently, saying 'Frak me'. Like any other Imperial Citizen, Varn had been taught to fear and distrust psykers and time in prison and Legion certainly hadn't dulled that fear, for he had heard stories how Sheol XVI had hidden cells where rouge psykers were stored and rumors had once circled the Legion that they had a psyker whose own powers blew himself to pieces. Confidence in such people was not something that Varn could offer openly. Oh, and what had the Navigator meant by there was 'a gaping hole in the warp sitting a few feet away from me'? Varn couldn't see anything abnormal in the room, and this Mr. Serdali seemed to be another ordinary human.

Varn made a mental note to have a discussion with either the Tech-Priest, or the Inquisitor, as they seemed to know more about what was going on. He then turned his attention to the briefing, already regretting not brining some form of paper to take notes on, though he'd have to endure.
"... poison can probably be ruled out" Tristan said, though Varn added, "And radiation. I don't know about this Hive World, but on Frenksworld we had radioactive chemicals going through our Spire pipes, and unless monitored properly, they could end up in the upper Hive, and that could turn ugly when they mixed with the wrong chemicals." Varn said. "Do continue," he then said, signaling that he was following.

Arcturas had silently slipped in along with some others, and had taken to a chair near one of the walls, sitting with both arms propped against his legs, leaned forward while everyone else talked and pleasantries were shared. He caught and equipped on the limiter that the Inquisitor gave him and turned it on, nodding and shrugging that no offense was taken. He was thinking about what little he knew so far, not giving the psykers previous unpleasant feelings around him a second thought. They had a Squat, psyker, what looked like a penal legionnaire, the ship Navigator, and a tech priest of some variety or another. Quite the colorful bunch in the detective's opinion, and eventually the conversation turned to business itself. The first problem, it seemed unusual and unexplainable heart attacks were occurring amongst the various youth of the higher ups. He spoke to the Navigator before the turn to business, inclining his head in her direction. "Apologies ma'am, and no offense taken. Just glad to be less problematic."

Any number of things could be at cause, he thought as he leaned back to get a larger look at things, knowing how rich youth acted. He dealt with enough, thinking their name and money put them above the sniffing and hunting of hounds like him. It didn't. He folded his hands as the tech priest and the Penal Legionnaire spoke in and gave their bits of information. He was inclined to disagree with the tech priest, and spoke up, hands still folded. As he spoke and questioned, it was clear he had gears turning in his head, as the saying went, and was already mentally running down different potential scenarios. "I wouldn't rule out the qualified medicae bit, these are rich boys and girls, their parents could pay for anything dirty to be covered up. Its a Hiveworld, that sort of thing is commonplace in general. Now, I do have a few questions, and pardon me if you'll be answering them later. What cult activity has been reported on the planet? If no overt cults, rich clubs that are focused on pleasure, martial prowess, knowledge, to potentially unhealthy extremes? I'll save my other questions for later, if they prove necessary."

"May be we have tae carry out our own autopsy of the bodies." said the squat.

Holt nodded in response to the abhumans statement.

"Yes, that would be prudent. While I am doubtful that the deaths were caused by poisons, considering the logistical difficultly of accomplishing such a poisoning on such a large scale with no blatant information leaks in such a way that it would not be noticed by a standard autopsy, it should not be ruled out; I misspoke. The other possibilities you mentioned ought to be considered as well." said the Tech-Priest.

"I wouldn't rule out the qualified medicae bit, these are rich boys and girls, their parents could pay for anything dirty to be covered up. Its a Hiveworld, that sort of thing is commonplace in general. Now, I do have a few questions, and pardon me if you'll be answering them later. What cult activity has been reported on the planet? If no overt cults, rich clubs that are focused on pleasure, martial prowess, knowledge, to potentially unhealthy extremes? I'll save my other questions for later, if they prove necessary." said one of the men sitting on the other side of the table.

Gaping hole in the warp? wondered Holt. He had never heard of the term before. That said, he recognized the symbols on the man's uniform. Adeptus Arbites, detective. Learning the basics of identifying members of different branches of the Adeptus Terra had been one of the first things he'd learned after leaving Eridani Regius, as Explorators interacted with them so often.

"I am inclined to agree with you Detective, though once again I question the logistical feasibility of silencing the hundreds of medicae who would no doubt have examined the bodies; one mistake on the part of the perpetrator's agents would mean discovery in that case. I am not entirely sure what you are implying by 'clubs dedicated on pleasure, martial prowess, and so on', and as far as xenos are concerned, such a scheme could very well have been instigated by the eldar." said Holt.

"Nothing should be ruled out, lad."
The Squat corrected the human,
"An' Every possibility should be considered, when dealing with the unknown in this way, only a fool leaps wit'oot looking."

The Engineer clamped the stem of his pipe between his teeth once more and resumed puffing as he watched the Tech Priest go on to question the detectives questions to the Inquisitor... A very counter productive feat.

"Private Clubs dedicated tae Pleasure, Martial powers an' Knowledge..."
Thungrim grunted,
Shaking his head at the Priest's lack of uptake, were all humans this slow? The Detective at least appeared to be thinking along the right lines.
"Cults, laddie, he's talkin' about Chaos Cults!"

Thunderfist scowled,
"An' as far as the Eldar are concerned, (Bunch o' treacherous, Oath breaking beard shavers!!) I wouldn't put it past em... Bloody pointy ears."

Mr. Serdali's notion of the Royal Hivers' typical behavior did sound true enough, though Varn was born from the middle class, he had heard many stories about corruption and injustices, though nothing had ever bothered him as he had stayed in line and simply done what he was told. "How about spores? Stealer Cult DNA?" the Squat noted, and Varn's head turn, Spores? Stealer cults? What da frak is he on about? he thought.

He continued to listen as the Squat and the Tech-Priest discussed their options, though Varn had a hard time following along with what they were referring to. Chaos cults, eldars, ‘pointy ears’, DNA cults, none of it makes sense, Varn thought.
The Inquisitor eventually began to give some background of himself claiming to be of a guardsman background, and then who his crew members were. While Varn was not experienced in the field of hacking, he knew that on Frenksworld, it could get you into more trouble than it was worth. However, when Nomina yelled at the Inquisitor, Varn expected to see swift suppression to her lack of discipline, yet the Inquisitor merely smiled back. Varn couldn’t hide his shock, he stared open eyed at the woman and the inquisitor, barely believing what he had just seen.

"Alright, I want each of you to introduce yourselves to the team, tell a bit about yourselves and when we're done, feel free to mingle and chat. We have a few days before we reach Raleigh Prime, and there is plenty of time to meet you new colleagues, chat, and generally get to know everybody." The Inquisitor said.
Varn looked around and then sighed, "Seeing as this is like any other Introduction Week, I might as well go first," Varn sighed. "I'm Varn Gaius. Biochemist and soldier, at your service." Varn deliberately left out Penal Legionnaire, in this company it wouldn't give a good impression to mention anything about his criminal background.

Arcturas observed the companions that the Inquisitor introduced them to, the one man was a soldier, and a solid and mean one. The other was a younger girl, someone quite a few of his old coworkers would have called a tech heretic. Arc was a bit more liberal on the matter currently, simply because if the Inquisitor had trust and use for her, than it was not of his concern. The soldier was from a Catachan regiment, which made him a breed all of his own, while the hacker girl simply got picked up along the way from the sounds of it. The others kept talking about various means as well, some he was not as familiar with as others. He had only heard the name Eldar in passing, and these stealer cults and such he was also not familiar with in the slightest. Most of his brushes with the enemies of the Imperium were heretical, both within and without. But the Inquisitor insisted cover ups were not likely, so he dropped it for now.

The Inquisitor gave the first technical order of his time working with the group, being to introduce themselves to each other. The first person was the soldier man he had noted earlier, who stood up and introduced himself as Varn Gaius, and he nodded to the man as he did so in return to the greeting. A chemist and a soldier? An interesting combination, that was for sure. But to every man his own hobbies and pursuits. Once he had introduced himself, the detective decided that he might as well go next, and kicked his feet up and leaned the chair back to relax as he spoke, not terribly concerned with how that would appear from a professional standpoint. They were technically off duty, and this Inquisitor was relatively lax so far.

"A pleasure Mr. Gaius. I might as well go now. Names Arcturas Serdali, Adeptus Arbites Detective, and psionic blank, at your service. Apologies in advance to the psykers, I'll try and remember to keep the limiter on at all times, barring actual need, of course." Once he had introduced himself, he helped himself to a cup of tanna, having heard of the drink but never had the chance to actually try it. He could tell it was an acquired taste, but didn't mind it at all. He would probably replace the recaff with the drink, it struck him as a better alternative to the generally poor quality drink, but in endless supply in every Arbites office he was ever in.

Thungrim Thunderfist had remained silent through talk of 'Psykers and Blanks' puffing away on his pipe as he did so, the Dwarf was vaguely aware that such things had to do with humans minds and the warp, but being from a race that had no affinity with or interest in such things he put it aside as another daft manling custom.
Maybe the race as a whole would not be so easy to corrupt by the forces of Chaos if their skulls were a little thicker, The Engineer thought with a sigh and a shake of the head.

Nodding to the Inquisitors pair of henchmen (The Catachan Solider and the Hacker) the Squat noticed that the Warrior at least, appeared to be rather less flimsy than most humans he had encountered.
Another guardsman, a Detective and the foolish Tech priest all introduced themselves, Thungrim nodded to each of them in turn before setting aside his pipe and thumping a gauntleted fist against his Exo armour breast plate in salute.

"Thungrim Thunderfist, Son of Thor Firefist, Son of Bjorn Stormfist of the Stonefist Clan, Master Engineer of the Ulthrak Engineers Guild... Or rather I was before it was over run by the Tyranid scum!"
The Squat flexed the armoured fingers of his power Fist as he spoke, brow creasing and eyes darkening at the memory.

"We are an' ancient and proud race with many Grudges tae settle an' many Oaths tae which we still hold, I am here tae aid the Imperium in it's time of need as our ancient vows of allegiance say that I must."

"Tis true that many of yer Imperial scholars say the Squat race is extinct, others say we never existed while some merely try to brush us aside as nothing more than a strain of abhuman mutants!"
Thungrim continued,
"This is a lie, we are an' ancient breed, old as the Eldar an' far more trustworthy, yer Emperor was a great Warrior in his day and friend to our Ancestors, we still hold true ate the ancient Oaths despite being a depleted race... But if anything we are more stubborn than ever!"

Thunderfist made the last statement with a slight twitching of the beard that could have indicated he was smiling, although there was still a great sadness in his eyes.
Raising his tankard, the Squat sought out the form of Varn Gaius and nodded.

"By the way lad, fer future reference.... My feet ain't hairy an' Rattlings don't have beards!"

"By the way lad, fer future reference.... My feet ain't hairy an' Rattlings don't have beards!" the Squat said to Varn, after having singled him out.
"Well, pardon me, last time I met anyone that short he robbed me of everything I had. I'm just cautious next time I come across vertically challenged people," Varn responded. "I've only seen Ogryns, Ratlings and normal people. They don't exactly tell you about every variation of mankind there is."

Varn felt extremely uncomfortable with what he had heard. He had lived and worked as a middle Hiver, and liked the life he had, the idea of venturing in where influence and contacts mattered seemed... Dangerous. Though the talk of daemons, cults and whatever other types of Xenos there were out in the dark universe, made him much more uncomfortable; he had seen first hand how terrible war could be. He couldn't imagine how secret wars were fought, especially those by the Inquisition.
He shivered. Memories of how he had created bio-chemical weapons for the Penal Legion rushed back like a nightmare… The results had been terrifying.

He looked down at the Squad. “You seem to know a lot about the Imperium’s enemies. Would you mind explaining to me what… Tyranid is… exactly?” Since Varn had been educated by Imperial standards, he was largely ignorant of the true enemies of Man. On Malice he had fought Rebels and traitors whose leaders were unfortunately competent, and most talk about Xeno encounters were dismissed as incompetence or just plain nonsense.

Volsk looked up, "Ah, excellent question!" He picked up the remote once more, clicking to a completely new slide. The slide revealed a repulsive creature, a cross between some foreign insect, and some kind of alien lizard. It's four arms ended in wickedly sharp hooks, and its entire body was covered in chitenous armor.
He turned to Varn, "This, my friend, is a tyranid, or at least, one type of tyranid, called a hormagaunt. Fascinating creatures, the tyranids. We have yet to study them in depth, but as far as we can reason, they have one singular goal. The acquisition of sustenance. They are able to take many forms, from swarms of hormagaunts, to the enormously destructive carnifex. They scour entire worlds clean of life, absorbing it into their ever churning, biological manufactories. I personally believe that they quite effectively personify the worst aspects of humanity in a volatile swarm. I know many of my colleagues, and the human population as a whole will call me a blasphemer, but if you were to see them in person as my teacher and I did in the Gaius Campaign, you would know that I speak the truth. Many men and women died those four years..."
Osbourne stared at the floor blankly as he slipped into a brief flashback, flashes of lasfire lit the night, as the screams of the dead and dying rang hollow in his ears. A swarm of the creatures had breached the eastern rampart, and had begun flooding in through the breach. He, Corvus, and his teacher stood side by side with a squad of guardsmen, beating back the ravenous tide as best they could. They had decided to join the men of the Gaius Campaign in order to attempt to capture one of the tyranid creatures alive. However, after his first encounter, he realized that there could be no quarter for these monstrous creatures. They needed to be eradicated from the universe as soon as possible.
Nomina, the young woman he had introduced earlier, stood and stepped lightly over to Osbourne's chair. She gently placed her arms around Volsk's shoulders in a tender embrace. He looked up at her and smiled slightly, snapping back to reality, "Thank you Nomina. I apologize everyone, I still get flashbacks from time to time, usually from past cases or from my time in the Guard. Do not worry, as it will not affect my combat prowess. In a firefight, my mind is able to focus on the task at hand, but when my mind is allowed to wander, I sometimes slip." He smiled at the group, squeezing Nomina's hand, letting her know that he was okay.
He stood and adressed the group, "I suppose I should introduce myself now. As you all no doubt know by now I am Inquisitor Volsk Osbourne, Ordo Solar. I am in charge of this mission, this is my ship, and it was my teacher's before me. It is one of the few items left in his memory. If you disrespect my ship I will personally administer punishment upon you. I generally consider myself a rather amicable fellow, but I will not tolerate any disrespect to my teacher's memory. Am I understood! Now to be clear, by disrespecting my ship, I mean damaging her intentionally, or defacing her public areas. What you do in your private quarters is your own business, within limits of course. Should any of you need anything, and I have the power to get it for you I will generally attempt to get it. However, should you tell me, say, a week from port, I will no doubt forget by the time we reach moorings. Simply remind me when we make planetfall and I will try to carry out your request." He smiled at them in closing, refilling his mug, and returning to his seat.