Imperial Lunar Class Cruiser, Ceres's Charge

I felt happy and almost content, enjoying the day. Feeling temperature controlled, stale air on my skin, the unsteady light of artificial illuminators, well, not really warming my skin with its cold glare and the climate control sucking always more breathable air out than returning.

Ahh, the feelings of home.

Even better, for once, the attention and focus of the people was directed not at me, but at someone else, despite everyone present knowing my name and reputation. But then, it's not every day that you get to meet not a Living Saint, but a Living and Walking Goddess. Well, a Standing Goddess right now, and she was handling the attention far better than I usually did.

Standing straight and regal looking, Her sign of office, the Silence Glaive, resting in one hand, She overlooked the scene before Her with a calm, yet kind gaze. Her posture and appearance making Her heritage and Divine Lineage obvious even to the lowliest of servitors scurrying around the control room. An aura filled the air, like the soft embrace of welcome, a gentle hand steadying you even in the harsh and desperate situations we knew all too well, a bright glow shining for you even in the darkest of nights.

Somehow, it made the whole dark room with its subdued colours more bearable. The vast chamber of the control centre, filled with its arcane apparatuses, protruding tubes and levers, gaps in ceiling and floor filled with wires I could practically see moving and squirming. Large machines seemingly grew out of the walls or just sprouted from the ground, pressing into the cramped space, lights weakly flickering, casting shadows and allowing for barely enough sight to guess at the more obscure forms in the dark. It was filled with crewman and servitors, busying around, entranced in slow, sombre arcane rites, the full weight of the machine spirit pressing down on them, on us. The whole experience was somehow made more gentle, smooth, less burdening and overbearing than the far too many other times I had the unfortunate fate to visit a starship bridge before.

Alas, even the Holy Power of an Anima of the Imperium could do nothing against the odour of the 'incense' the Tech Priests used to purify and embalm the mere physical parts of the machine spirit laid bare, appeasing and comforting it. Today, it ranked somewhere between the odour of a hive city, with every inhabitant killed weeks ago by followers of Nurgle, on a tropical planet during the heights of the local monsoon, recaptured by an Imperial Guards unit having been out on the field for said weeks without any chance of freshening up, and the undergarments of an Orkish Warboss being shoved in your face.

I had concluded long ago that an artificial nose was mandatory for a Tech Priest.

Now, if only the pricking in my hands would stop, I might, and I stretch the might, have been content. But I couldn't help it and sneak uneasy glances around, eyeing my surroundings suspiciously. While I had grown accustomed to the warnings of my hands, it was quite unusual to get them at the beginning of a journey. These warnings were usually reserved for the minutes before the shooting started, some unspeakable abomination tried to claim my head for its Master furnishing or the weekly reports to the Administratum. I really, really did not want to know why it was different this time. Of course, I soon came to learn about it.

At least by now, the ordinary servitors, crewman and others were manning their stations again and doing whatever needed doing onboard a starship heading out into deeper space. I had been a tad bit worried when minutes before everyone turned around, stared and dropped to their knees, praying or just mumbling in awe. I almost wished for the ring of red robed resolutees to close again around the Anima and rob the bridge crew of the Royal Distraction. Only some well-chosen words of mine had 'encouraged' the crew to get back to administering the blessings and sermons to the relics connecting them to the machine spirit of our vessel. I sincerely hoped said spirit would not be too resentful about the short neglect it had experienced.

Well, and I would feel even better if the various officers or higher ranking individuals around the bridge would get back to their jobs, too. But my understanding of the inner working of starships is limited, and maybe they really had no other duties than to stand around the bridge and look important. Or to be mere precise, to gawk at any hapless visitor that may come around.

I had begun the hazardous journey through the seemingly fortified no-man's land that made up the ground of the bridge towards the bushy bearded individual I suspected to be the lord and captain of our vessel. The golden epaulettes and pompous uniform kind of gave him away. Carefully avoiding the many pitfalls in the floor and the looming machines or runed consoles that seemed to reach out to me, I had nearly reached the stocky man, when the main door creaked open, accompanied by the screeching of ancient machinery.

At once joined by very human screeching.

"Blackness. Nothing."

I whirled around, hands grasping my Las Pistol, Only to see Rakel, Amberley's Psyker, acting even more barmy than ever, hand stretched out and a finger pointing towards the Anima of Saturn, the Psyker bodily swaying in an unseen wind. Feeling quite glad about my current position, far away from the 'eccentric' woman, I winced as I noticed Amberley standing close to her. And the stance of certain red robed ravagers, weapons raised, two directly between Rakel and the Senshi, the others spread out, either focusing her or covering the rest of the room. One even crouched and poised as if to pounce on the crazy and unstable Psyker, wrangling the obviously unbalanced wielder of destructive mind powers to the ground, no matter personal risks or the 30 feet gap between them. Or more probably, to dismember her violently before their bodies even came close to the floor and filing her remains away in a small box, which he would then label and calmly file away. He just seemed like that kind of guy.

"Nothing. I see nothing. All is gone. She is not there, I do not see her. She is only emptiness. Void. We don't see. We are not. It is the end. The beginning of all!"

Pelton, of all people, put a hand on the girl's shoulder, whispering something in her ear while Amberley guided them towards the doors they had just passed. Mott was standing somewhat forlorn beside them, mumbling, no doubt sprouting information and data that really no one needed right now, but he had at least stepped out of any possible line of fire. Mott was a smart guy, sometimes even too smart for my own good. But we are not discussing recreational activities or wagers between good friends here. Even if one of them was cheating in a most dastardly and subtle way that I had yet to prove.

No matter what my instincts were telling me, and what I really wanted to do, that was Amberley out there. Directly in the line of fire, between crazy trigger happy guards and an unstable Psyker.

"Hold your fire, men, the situation is under control."

At least I hoped so. But then, I had no illusion at all wether a bunch of certain red robed reapers would listen to any voice of reason once they had a target in their sights. Still, I had to try. And stay safely in the back. I am not suicidal after all.

"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, die we must. Try as we may; to her, we can't say nay."

Sometimes, people who really did not get the clue grate on my nerves. Badly.

Thankfully, her screeches became soundless after the latest bout, yet not for lack of trying. With her mouth working, but no sound escaping her and hands clawing at empty hair combined with the expression on her face… Now, I am an experienced servant of His Divine Majesty, and I have seen many of the terrors that the galaxy harbours and the anxiety they may create in some men. The strange and eerie rites of the alien Eldar, the nonsensical behaviour and conduct of the heretical Tau with their disregard for the very truth of the machine spirit and the terrifying, just plain inhuman ways of the Administratum and its avatars.

But seeing a powerful Psyker twitch and claw at empty air, soundlessly howling, was not the most comforting sight I could imagine right then. Experience was not helping at all, because I had no need to guess at what could happen around Psyker's who had 'lost' it.

Finally, the main hatch closed behind Rakel and Pelton. Amberley turned around, striding over to us, apparently completely at ease and relaxed. I nearly glowered at her, but then remembered proper conduct when dealing with an Inquisitor of His Most Deranged Mob. All the while, the so-called 'bodyguards' fanned out once more and most people on the bridge started breathing again.

"Please accept my apologizes, Revered Anima. Rakel is a useful part of my entourage, but as all Psykers, she has her… moments, from time to time. I will make sure to see her suitable disciplined."

I had never seen any Inquisitor use such formal High Gothic or a bow this artfully and deferential before. On the other hand, I had a distinct lack in watching said Inquisitors interact with Divinity. I was certain that it would be somehow…, refreshing, to see it from a select few Inquisitors I had encountered over the years; not from Amberley, though.

"Sorry. Me reckless. Me wide-casting. Will stay more careful. No fault of Psyker. No harm her, yes?"

Several people on the bridge blinked, as the Anima nearly visibly shrank into herself and wrung her hands, casting a nervous glance at the Inquisitor, her cheeks reddening. I had missed it, again, how she had made her weapon vanish. Maybe some kind of miniaturizing function? An invisibility cloak? Stealthed Micro-Servitors? Considering her garment more than I wanted, I was quite sure that she would be unable to even hide a Las pistol on her person, much less so a full pole arm, tall as me.

To my surprise, the Inquisitor only needed a moment to get back her footing and respond dutifully, inciting a severe case of; well, in ordinary people I might call it blushing. In a Divine Anima of the Imperium I called it none of a mortal's business.

"Yes, of course, Your Highness, it shall be, as you command. I thank you for Your Divine Mercy."

Four of the guardians had taken close position around the Anima, shielding her from most eyes in the room and the other two had taken post next to the main hatch. I had little doubt that the ship's servitors would clean the deck for weeks to come from the next person who entered without moving 'very' slowly and subdued.

Bravely, Amberley ignored them, and kept speaking to Hotaru, who was slowly drifting closer to me, the circle of her guards enclosing me and somehow not appearing reassuring at all. More like…trapping me. I still failed to make out even one distinguishing detail in a single one of them. Not even Storm Troopers were that identically carbonate copies of each other. And the precision and unison in which they moved were just plain unnatural.

I had been very careful to not ask a certain two 'local PDF colonels' if they grew these guys in vats. Some things, man is not meant to know.

"I can report that the final shuttle has landed and the last of the 597th are disembarking. We are now ready to leave orbit. With your permission, Revered Anima?"

I doubted that many people could hear the response, spoken quietly and with a faint voice, but I had no such trouble, considering that the young girl answering had brought me between herself and most of the room. Standing in a proximity to me that was significantly closer than I thought would be appropriate in public, especially considering her station. And my safety, considering the twitch in Amberley's right cheek.

"Yes; please travel ahead, Inquisitor Lady, we find to need mine sisters."

After a small bow, and a final smouldering glare directed at the single unlucky Commissar, our most honoured Inquisitor and very close and personal friend who was a grand and merciful Lady indeed, turned around and addressed our probably abhuman captain. Although I am not quite sure which world of the Imperium had caused its inhabitants to take on the characteristics of walruses. Strangely, I would later come to learn of the world of Tusrark, but that's neither here not there.

"Lord De'soy, your navigator has divined a passage to our destination?"

With a sharp nod, the man answered in a deep baritone, encompassing all of his bridge with a flourishing gesture. His moustache, probably enough the intimidate an Astartes of the Space Wolves themselves, wobbled with the movement.

"Of course, Lady Inquisitor. The machine Spirit is willing, and we are ready to leave for Bepsin at any time."

Probably used to even more eccentric aliens and individuals, Amberley calmly indicated her approval., answering in her melodic voice. Sounding as foreign in these forlorn halls as her immaculate dress, accentuation not only her position but also her figure.

"Very well, Captain. Bring us on course. May the Emperor allow us swift passage."

With some of the most heroic effort I ever managed to achieve in my career, I only answered the small voice speaking up next to me with a miniscule nod.

"Huh. I not see father here, and even if, he would not certainly mind us travelling."

Briefly closing my eyes and banishing all thoughts of several Inquisitors I had encountered in the past reacting to words like these, I nearly missed the fateful next words of the captain.

"Aye, Mylady. As the Emperor wills. Mr. Taad, energy."

Barely registering the answer of the officer with the strange complexion, I braced myself for the Warp entry. It is not a particularly unpleasant experience, per se. For example, close combat with Plague Marines is nearly as bad. Most of the time.

"Yes, Sire. Entering Warpspace."

The omnipresent humming of the Machine Spirit around us changed, even stranger lights than before flickered over esoteric runes and some kind of steam, or perhaps mist, poured out of various unshaped 'things' for all I knew, littered around the dome of command, accompanied by deep hissing and a shift in the atmosphere.

All around us, our vessel seemed to become… less vessel, and every person seemed farther away, fuzzy and pale. Sounds slightly distorted and even the air feeling… murky. Colours less vibrant, bodies less substantial and lines less… liney.

In short, like every other Warp entry I had ever experienced. The Gellar Field be praised, at least it keep the worst of it at bay, and perhaps even more important, kept certain natives which I wouldn't even think about during a Warp travel outside, too.

The small girl next to me seemed to be the only real person left in the room, her dark hair the same violet hue as always, the same with her pristine white body armour, clear and shiny like polished ivory.

The hectic activity that suddenly sprang up, the wailing of klaxons and beeping of whatever else ripped me away from the small marvel in front of my eyes. Something which I regretted dearly when I took in the situation. I had heard 'people' describe combat situations as a form of 'controlled chaos' or some other, even more purple, phrases. Looking around the bridge, at the panicking faces and running crewmen, I quickly scratched the 'controlled' part, and sincerely hoped that no capital 'C' was about to join the expression. I briefly considered praying to Him on His Golden Throne, to protect His Daughter, and the people nearest to her, from any harm, but I concluded that staying quite and hidden was probably the better course of action. To top it off, I even saw the apparent chief Tech Priest wringing not only his hands, but also his Mechadendrites. Mind me, if they do that, that's always a bad sign.

Tensing, I looked around, and hoped that someone would make sense of this mess. And get me out of this in one piece.

Barely suppressing a wince, I stood ramrod straight and looked down to my left, at the Symbol of Imperial Might that had just grabbed my hand in a cleverly disguised Power Fist and was holding the other dreadful weapon of the pair close to her chest.

"Cain? Happening now? Problem ship? Self-acting warp embankment engine burdened? Ionized Gas dynamo disturbed? Spherical Wave Equalizer disjunctioned?"

I gaped at the girl, hastily catching myself as she cringed and averted her eyes. In her Father's name, what language had she just spoken? And why did she ask me what was wrong with a star ship? Shouldn't she ask someone more qualified? Maybe one of the sanitary servitors loitering around? And…my hand!

My mental rambling was interrupted by the loud groaning and visibly buckling of a ceiling sheet, silencing the heated babble and confused shouts echoing through the room for a second. Grabbing my Las Pistol again I suddenly appreciated the dense cordon of half a dozen trained killer machines between me and everything else. Phenomena during a warp travel, any sort of occurrences and especially groaning and buckling metal was not a good sign. Unless, of course, you owned significantly more than the standard four human limbs and were looking to perhaps add some more to it or to just broaden your appreciation for said extra limbs with the rest of humanity.

But the metal calmed down, resting again and not twisting in some Daemonic shape or being ripped apart by unearthly claws. Thanking the One Whose Daughter I had just embarrassed and still not answered, I put on one of my better calming and reassuring faces, and focused my attention on her.

"Ahh, there is no need to be worried. I am sure that nothing bad will happen, and no Daemonic nightmare will come tearing through the thin veil of reality and rip through steel and machine alike to devour our very flesh and souls, or the malevolent energies around us just blas…well, I am sure everything will be fine."

I made a mental note to myself there and then to watch my inspirational speeches when I was 'worried'. Well, it was unlikely that anyone had overheard us, with Amberley watching the bridge crew intently, the crew itself yelling at each other or just plain looking scared, and well. I am not sure which words would have impressed the red robed riders, but I hadn't found them. Yet.

Breathing a quiet and very subtle, I have you know, sign of relief as the Power Fist finally released the clump of mangled flesh and bone that had been formerly known as my hand I was amazed how anyone, especially even a ten thousand year old Anima of the Imperium, could lower her head, tip her feet on the ground and squirm on the spot in all this cacophony.

"Me sorry, very sorry, Cain, me scared and grabbed just, sorry, me more careful; please, not worry… me healing better?"

Putting on the most stupid-brave face I could manage, which is a lot more to one of the two attributes than the other, depending on the person you ask, I hastily assured the Senshi that there was no problem, and I was alright, certainly nothing that was worth her attention in any form. While I subtly worked my hand behind my back, relieved that nothing seemed to be broken, thankful for some of my augmented fingers.

The Holy Anima on the other hand…was staring right past me, with an expression on her face that I had last seen on the face of Jurgen when some new recruits had tried to explain the concept of 'soap' to him. Turning my head, making sure no Bio-Titan, or something similar, was sneaking up on us, I just saw the various crew members and officers manning their stations and doing, whatever navy personnel does whenever their ship was in the mortal danger to be devoured by creatures from outside our reality. Standard Operation Procedure seemed to involve a lot of unfocussed yelling and cursing.

"What doing is he? Who letting intellectual special person to the Engine Control Terminal?"

In another situation I might have had difficulty maintaining my dignity, but impending doom and death tended to help me focus. Funny that.

"Err, well, Hotaru, the Tech Priest seems to try to pacify the Machine Spirit, or divine what has upset it."

Feeling the Anima's gaze on me, I turned back from the robbed figure bowed in supplication in front of some of the more obscure arcane runes, and weaving around a smoking container of incense, muttering prayers to the Omnissiad.

The look I received was a bit disconcerting. Stark disbelief mixed with confusion. It seemed that the Anima was not particularly fond of the Tech Priests or very adept herself to the Secrets of the Machine.

"Captain. What in the Emperor's name is going on?"

Amberley's clear voice managed to cut through the confusion around us like a Chainsword through even the oldest rations bar. Don't let the boisterous talks of gossiping veterans fool you, ration bars are no improvement above Carapace Armour. It's also too much of an hazel to add a flak vest out of them anyways, no matter the increased protection. Not that I ever tried. Not once.

Huffing and grunting, as if he was under the same strain as his ship, the captain turned around from where he was… encouraging the Tech Priests, eyes wide and his form shaking.

"Mylady, we must have hit a particularly rough spot in the Warp, our blessed Gellar Field is strained beyond its sanctified limits. May the Emperor be with us. It is over nine thousand."

While I knew that the Most Holy Emperor Himself was back on Holy Terra, watching over us all, well… we had one of his Daughters here with us; that had to count for something, right?

Eyeing the chanting Tech Priests, Amberley addressed the most senior Engiseer, a wizened, old creature barely taller than the Anima at my side, but carrying enough augmentations and metal on and inside his body that was probably sufficent to built two Chimera's from scratch. Maybe a Leman Russ, too.

"What is the status, Engiseer? Can you purify the sanctuary granted by the Gellar Field?"

A crackling, twisted voice of a Vox recorder answered, metallic and artificial. Well, at least it sounded more human than what a certain black armoured giant had the auda…erm, laudability to call a voice.

"Unknown, Inquisitor. Data insufficient. The stress on the blessed shield that the Holy Machine Spirit grants us is magnitude's above the norm. The Space-Time sheer of the warp continuity is off the scales. There are no reports of one of His Holy Vessel's ever encountering phenomena this strong."

"There are various reports throughout the Inquisitorial Archives of ships entering unexpectedly violent patches of the Warp, stressing the Gellar Fields to various degrees. There is no clear correlation between these events. Furthermore, there is not a single verified report of the ship's interior visibly buckling or being stressed as it is now."

Mott spoke up in excitement, visibly gushing about the prospect of collecting new data; somehow, I felt he missed the point here. Feeling faint, I had to ask for confirmation.

"You mean… there is no one who has encountered something like this and survived?"

With a voice, grave even with all its artificialness, the servant of the Machine God replied.

"None that the sacred stores of data know about, Commisar."

That was bloody brilliant. Untold millions of warp travels must have been recorded by the Mechanicus. Even more, but it probably was not easy to express an appropriate number like that in mere words. And no one had ever survived an encounter like this. That sounded even worse than my usual odds. And to make it even worse, here, in the warp, it was utterly inconsequential how many bodies were between the enemy and myself. We would all just get torn apart, and die a horrible, horrible death in an alien space which's mere essence wanted to devour us. Had I mentioned lately that I am not very fond of warp travel?

"Then get us out of here! We need to leave the warp! The Anima must survive!"

And especially the usually very quick on his feet Commissar right next to her. Get me out of here!

A certain Lord of the Ship looked a bit miffed about someone not even part of his crew yelling orders at his men, completely ignoring his authority. At the moment I could care less. Should he start making trouble, I would just whisper to one of the raging red rangers around me, that a certain captain had tried to peak under a certain skirt. And then hastily remove myself from the sight of utter carnage.

"Fallacy, Commissar. Celestial Computations show only a 2 point 7 seven percent probability that our vessel and the maltreated Machine Spirit would survive a re-entry in normal space. The probability for any organic components to survive is significantly lower."

I briefly considered if I could order him under Commissarial Authority to tell me something different, but the Adeptus Mechanicus only reluctantly accepted the authority of the Commissariat even at the best of times. And I was not sure per se if it would help anyways.

Luckily, Amberley was nearly as used to certain doom and inevitable death as I was, and stayed focused.

"How long will the Gellar Field continue to grace us with its protection against the horrors of the warp?"

I could literally see the cogs on the side of his face whir and other parts clacking into place as the Tech Priest contemplated the question.

"Unknown, Inquisitor. Data insufficient. I cannot divine the outcome. But the 'Ceres Charge' is an old and honourable vessel, its Machine Spirit is mighty indeed and has endured a lot. So if the Omnissiah wills, our resolve shall prevail."

Despite his supposedly encouraging words, his eyes darted around and he twitched with every groan and tension that ran through the metal of our ship.

Unnoticed by me at first, Hotaru had grasped my hand once more, thankfully in a merely human grip this time, and leaned close against me. When I finally realized the warm, soft body pressing against me, I was actually thankful for the distraction some minor warp phenomena provided for everyone, including me. Looking up to me, eyes widened and mouth slightly agape she wore an expression on her face that I hesitated to name in connection to her. It was strange to consider that a Holy Anima of the Imperium might be scared of anything. Especially after what I had witnessed in Hades Prime.

"Cain… what is them doing? Intellectual special person are main engineer? Embalming pancakes?"

I looked in askance at the girl. Surely, I had misheard something. Not noticing our byplay, Amberley continued to find a solution for our survival, nearly shaking the Enginseer now.

"Give me a solution, man. What can we do?"

Stopping his twirling Mechadendrites and grasping hands, the Adept of the Mechanicum collected himself visibly and replied in an even, steady voice.

"My anointed brothers and I are currently pleading to the merciful Omnissiah to deliver us from our plight and to His Divine Servant, the Machine Spirit, to endure and grant us protection."

Nodding resolutely and somehow conveying the whole authority and power of the Inquisition in three words, Amberley nearly pushed him back to his cabal of peers.

"Then pray harder!"

Flinching as if he had been hit with a shock maul, the Tech Priest turned around and joined his fellow machine-human amalgams in huddling around the consoles, speaking their sermons, waving around various incenses, instruments and things, while one or the other touched the console from time to time.

Anxiously waiting for reality around us to be undone and unfathomable soul devouring horrors pouring in, I did all that I could in this situation, namely, hoping that their Machine God would listen to them. I noticed that Hotaru seemed unusual pale, and her grip on my hand had become stronger. That was strange, should a Daughter of the Holy Emperor of Mankind be as adverse to warp travel as an ordinary human like myself? The very thought was heretical and I was glad that Amberley was still distracted by the proceedings around the bridge.

After a few minutes, I relaxed a minuscule amount, noticing that we were still alive. No one was torn apart, eaten or dissolved by toxic sludge into glowing goo. I looked around the huge chamber, crewman still running mostly aimlessly around, officers yelling, the captain standing white faced next to us and the whole room, the whole ship shuddering and groaning under the stresses it had to endure. The sigils of the psychic wards protecting us flaring so bright it hurt to look at them, the console the Tech Priests fluttered around still wailing in its pain. The small girl at my side had become rigid and small tremors did run through her body, unnoticed by anyone who didn't commit a sacrilege and did hold her hand. Or actually touched even more of her, body to body. I desperately tried not to think about the various methods of way too many Imperial institutions to deal with heretics and sinners of the worst kind.

Finally, the senior Enginseer looked up and addressed Amberley once more, before I could go back to my mindless panic.

"It seems that the Omnissiah has blessed us greatly today, and for now, the Machine Spirit endures. I can not predict for how long we can maintain the Gellar Field, but it should hold for the next hours, maybe days."

Amberley nodded tersely, the relief flowing from her as well hidden as her, erm, uneasiness, before.

"When can we leave Warp space then?"

The machine man gave her a look which for a normal human would have let to a summary execution.

"You seem to have… difficulties, computing the data, Inquisitor. Aside from the fact that an unplanned re-entry into normal space would leave us stranded, without immediate knowledge of our position, the main difficulty is the continuing stress on our blessed protections. Updated calculations indicate that there is only a zero point three probability that this vessel would survive the re-entry without widespread, catastrophic hull integrity failures."

That didn't sound too good to my ears, but judging by the way the captain paled and Hotaru flinched, it was probably even worse. Our fair Inquisitoria gave said captain a glance.

"Captain? What does that mean, in simple terms."

With the first attempts of huffing and grunting I briefly pondered if we would need to get Mott's service to translate the meaning to us, before the captain caught himself and spoke up in passable Low Gothic.

"It means… it means, well, Inquisitor…if we leave the Warp, the 'Ceres Charge' will break apart in dozens of fragments, and we will all die in the cold void of space. Probably we will be dead even long before that, because the 'Ceres Charge' can endure a lot more stress than any of us. We can not leave the Warp as long as this …this abominable phenomenon continues."

I froze. How I hated it to be right. Not getting out of the Warp? Stranded in this strange dimension of…well, you should have gotten my opinion about it by now. Barely could I refrain from wailing that my latest attempts at getting transferred to some staff position or Schola Progenium were making quite positive progress. It just seemed so unfair to be forever stranded in the warp and drifting to certain death and madness now.

"Enginseer, is there any way to predict when this foul onslaught may stop?"

Gravely, the Tech Priest shook his head, denying Amberley's query. It was barely visible, but I could clearly see how distraught she was and how her mind was racing, trying to come up with a solution for our plight, bringing her vast inquisitorial knowledge and experience to bear. But I could also see clearly how she continued to come up short and the pressure inside her built up.

I hated this part of the job, but an especially loud yell from one the crew man that nearly started a scuffle left me little choice.

"Ahh, Inquisitor Vail, we shouldn't worry too much about some lesser disturbances. It's just like Nonsensium IX, back in the days. That little bhurhub out there will whittle down soon, and we can continue our journey on board of one of His mighty vessels and continue to clean out the enemies of humanity with the strength of our courage and His Arms."

I gave her a lazy smirk and hooked one of my thumbs under the red sash of my uniform. Hoping that no one was noticing the pale sweat that was drying on my forehead I drew up to my full height and stroke a pose that would not be out of place on a recruitment poster, to delude the hopeful into thinking it was a good idea to jump into the meat grinders of the High Lords of Terra.

Thankfully, I managed to refrain from putting my arms around the shoulder of a small girl pressed against me. That way lay Doom.

Amberley was truly an experienced Inquisitor. Not even for one second did she stare at me incredulously, instead she collected herself quickly and put her hands into the sleeves of her robe and nodded regally.

"Indeed, Commissar. Often the road of service in His Name is paved with difficulties, but faith and strength of arms will prevail. Both things we all have in abundance."

Casting a warning glance in the round, I felt she overdid it a little. No one, and I mean not one person, was stupid enough to even indicate that his or her faith may be lacking while an Inquisitor was present.

What made matters worse, were the glances or outright stares I received, from suddenly stilled crewmen around us, so full of trust and hope that I felt nearly sick. But worst of all…

Was Hotaru, staring up to me, hands clasped together in front of her chest and nearly snuggling up to me. If I heard so much as any yearning sound, I was going to bolt from the bridge, image and moral be damned.

Thankfully, Amberley was not finished with taking charge and ordering people around, thus maybe giving me a chance to escape to a dark place somewhere and quiver under a blanket.

"Captain, get this bridge under control again. This is no hiver gang, but the crew of one of His mighty vessels. I expect everyone to act the part. If there are any difficulties, I am sure Commissar Cain or myself can … help the specific individuals. Everything concerning this minor annoyance is to be kept away from the crewmen or the troops on board. Your Highness… if you wish I will escort you to your quarters and make sure that everything is to your satisfaction, oh Divine One."

Ouch. I wondered if the Inquisition had ever tried to pierce Void Shields with glares alone. Judging from Amberley's expertise with them, I was pretty sure it was a success. Still, it would be nice to see them directed anywhere else but me.

"From course, Vail Inquisitor." The soft, clear voice that spoke up next to me nearly caused me to make a double take, so unexpected was the firm, authoritarian tone in it. "Chief Engineer, informing me instantly if thing of any changes with primary Gellar Field Grid. There no will be dallas."

Wondering when exactly the Anima of Saturn had stepped free from me and straightened down her clothing and hair, standing regally and quiescent I only spared a glance for the Tech Priest.

Making the most deferential gesture I had ever seen from any cogboy, the Enginseer hastily assured his obedience. I stood there dumbly for a second or two, before I shook myself out of it, and managed to catch up to the two females and the ring of guards orbited by an elderly savant. Almost leisurely, we left the rapidly calming bridge.

Of course, me being me, even outside of the bridge I could not catch a break.

At least Rakel was not present. Judging from the stances and general impressions of a couple of ominous red predators, that was probably quite fortunate. I was sufficiently sure that Rakel would not have 'stayed' in our presence for any length of time.

After the bulk head had barely clamped shut behind us, Amberley whirled around to me and hissed.

"Nonsensium IX? Ciaphas, honestly. Nonsenium?"

Only a life time of training, and a strong sense of self preservation made me avoid a sharp and succinct answer to an Inquisitor of His Divine Self. Excuse me, but I hadn't had much time to think it over right there and then.

Before I could manage a more appropriate answer, Mott spoke up from behind us, faint curiosity or even admiration in his voice, as loathe as I am to admit it.

"Truly, Cain, I would never have guessed that your career sent you as far as the Segmentum Pacificum. You do indeed carry His Will into every corner of His Divine Domain."

I turned around, and gave the elderly Savant a flat stare. There was no way in…

"Ohh, fascinated it is. Cain widely travelled, yes? Having seen much galaxy. Hotaru like to tell trade tales sometimes. When another time. More happy time. Sir Mott, you very knowledgeable, yes?..."

I could only gap as the two of them moved on, leaving me behind. And Amberley, looking at me nearly as incredulously as I felt. I managed to refrain from wishing anything upon myself concerning striking down and abysmal Daemons of the Warp, but it was a close thing. Being aware of my luck and maybe even more the surroundings, it was only prudent.

Mott was having me on. Us. There was no other way. Not even the Administratum would sink to such lows. There had to be a limit, somewhere. I refused to acknowledge the amiable chat he had with the Anima. Finally, Amberley broke out of the… quite contemplation she had spontaneously started and shook her head, following the pair and their escort. Who hadn't even flinched. I suspected the audio sensors of their helms were turned off.

Maybe it was not the right time to notice it now, but Amberley's blue robe had quite a nice cut, especially when viewed from behind and the shade of blue went pretty well with her golden hair.

Belatedly realizing that I was still standing in the middle of the corridor, the closed bulkhead behind me and myself wearing a facial expression that would probably never make it in any recruiting add, I flinched.

Determined to ignore this latest development, which was 'almost' as unsettling as the groaning of the corridor itself, I followed after the small group, using the strides of my long legs to catch up.

Not having to go far, I reached them when they entered a room marked with the runes and protective glyphs of a command level conference room. Studiously ignoring Mott, I was about to join them, when a red wall manifested in front of me.

"Please identify yourself."

The not quite polite request was accompanied by a Genescan being almost jabbed in my face.

What was it today? Some obscure holiday that centred around making a fool out of the local representative of the Commissariat? Mott's petty revenge for the last time I had called him in on a bluff?

After a brief match of staring I realized that he was seriously expecting me to comply with the 'request'.

"Emp... Empiric studies be damned, we just walked from the bridge to this conference room. And you want to genescan me?"

Judging from his reaction, or the lack thereof, I obviously had to work on delivering my sarcasm or astonishment. A Shock Maul seemed to be the obvious choice for the next occasion.

"The person identified as Commissar Cain has left our field of vision and detection for an period of time extended over nearly one minute. MPSP requires that the identity of every person in close proximity to the Holy Senshi of Saturn is known. Please identify yourself."

I nodded dumbly. Yes, exactly. And an extended period of time. Of almost a full minute. I briefly wondered how these guys organized latrine breaks, but then. I really did not want to know. They probably used these opportunities for more... extended, and invasive tests.

I quickly jabbed my thumb in the abyssal creation that seemed destined to devour me bit by bit, in an unending torment of...ah, well. My mood always goes that way when I remember this episode.

After the short, painful prick and the green light on the infernal apparatus, my tormentor stepped aside with a short comment about my confirmed identity. His voice didn't betray him, but his whole robe looked smug. I could see it.

Without the heaving of the deck, I would certainly have entered our little discussion quite grumbling, but a dynamic entry also had its obvious advantages. Well, at least it made Amberley smile, that was something in this whole desaster.