As soon as the vortex closed, the Gallery became silent. It was as if it had suddenly become vacant, the only people there being the Inquisitor and his retinue. Once the vortex closed, Zhevon stood up and yanked on his sword, but it was firmly lodged into the ground. He sighed, and left it there for the time being. After a moment of cleaning up, and the banishing of the last statue, Ben walked over to him and helped Zhevon up.
"I told you, sir. She has no regard for our safety. Here she is almost getting us killed! Three times now, every single time she's tried to use her powers down here she's put us in danger. You, me, the planet, the mission. It's becoming very hard to trust her sir, even on your word. We were not so poor off in that fight that we needed her to try and kill us all." He picked up the nullrod from off the floor, "We need to keep this on right now, we cannot trust her. If you ask the group, I'm sure some of them will agree. Do not misunderstand my words, I don't dislike her, but I'm starting to fear for my life around her wanton misuse of power." Ben held the null rod out to Zhevon, looking at him.

Zhevon took it and turned it off, looking at the obsidian rod for a moment, in thought.
"The nullrod causes mind degradation as a long term effect of its use." He said quietly, holstering it. He hated to admit it, but Adrianne was becoming sort of a loose cannon. He glanced around and noticed that even the pedestals that the Statues once stood on were gone, this meant that they had packed their bags and left their nest, likely never to return. If there were any other Statues in the Gallery, they would have likely left as well. And if the Statues have left, the Cultists likely would have as well. He groaned quietly.
He put a finger up to his ear.
"Alpha, come visit us and bring a truck... Let's have Cube Bravo run interference... Yeah? Good."
It was only seconds later that a truck pulled up to the front of the Gallery, large enough to fit the entire group. A man opened the door and walked to the group. He was wearing a suit and a coat, along with a hat. With the darkness, it was difficult to see his face, or to see that if he was armed or not.
"That's Alpha."The man bowed, "Everyone except Psyker Valenthin will go with him to a safe house. There, you will rest, refresh, rearm," He looked at Stukov, "And heal." He then looked at everyone, including the newly arrived Sister of Battle, "Understood?" Zhevon spoke with an air of impatience and annoyance. Before Aviza could leave, Zhevon pointed at her, "I will be speaking with you later." He turned away and opened his communications to his Vindicare, "James, you can stay or join them. Though our enemy has likely vacated this area."
Alpha stepped up, "Heya. Welcome to the ground team. I see some new faces, that's always good." He spoke in a familiar northern accent, "Don't worry Inquisitor, I'll make sure they don't touch the brandy." He saluted the armored man, "Come come, let's get in the truck." He walked over to it himself and got into the driver seat. The truck was fairly large, and more like a limousine than a truck, with an expanded interior. The seats fashioned in the typical limousine fashion. White leather seats, a bucket of ice resting on the floor with several bottles of ginger ale.


Not waiting for the group to clear out, Zhevon walked to Adrianne. When he was standing in front of her, he looked to the collapsed wall, then back at her.
"I said a small one." He said, unamused.


Alpha sat in the driver seat, checking his rear mirror occasionally. The man casually tapped on the steering wheel.

---

---

A Bust

“Pilot return to point mars. There is nothing more we can do here.” The Priest began disarming the imperial steel cannon across his lap, removing the ammunition, brushing out the barrel and chamber.

“Well it’s your thrones” the pilot responded a tinge of disappointment in his voice.

“Remain on standby. I will likely need your services again soon.”

“Yes sir.” The meandering block of steel called a transport diverged from its local flight routine. Its engines turned from a dull roar to volcanic as its power plant moved its bulk between the spires toward a public transport hub.

The request for building plans had come back from the administratum, much speeded by not entirely truthful clearance idents. Even so they were right on time for the administratum. Data provided after usefulness. It may reveal some insight when compared to the “Speks Skull” sweep. If the enemy left in haste they may have forgone the destruction of assets or information. It would be something to look into at any rate.

The majority of the skulls had returned to their bays but a pair lingered in the shadows near the Inquisitor and his Acolyte whilst a further pair tracked the truck via leapfrog shortcutting.

By the time everything was stowed the transport had reached its destination near the terminal in a loading bay for a nearby convenience center. The door lowered and the lumbering crimson swathed giant strode out without a word.

Finding his path conspicuously empty of fellow pedestrians the priest made swift time to the terminal proper. Finding the train headed toward the local Mechanicus temple, he decided to remain standing. He was not entirely sure if rail car seats had spirits but it was usually better to err on the side of caution. It would not do to waste imperial resources after all.

Upon returning to the temple he would have to make various inquiries with his fellow Techsorcists, much could be learned from the affiliation of these statues to their deity and known heretical organisations. Work must also continue on the Incursion pattern Mechadendrite. Time and warp tide waits for neither man nor machine.

"Everyone except Psyker Valenthin will go with him to a safe house."

"That's usually not a good sign!"

Adrianne, although ever so slightly alarmed, remained quiet as the rest of the group departed from the gallery. Being singled out for whatever reasons, whether it be quarantine or general grilling, was something she was quite used to. After all, she was the psyker; which made her special, but not always for the better.

As the excitement from the battle ebbed away, she could feel the exhaustion hit her like an anvil out of nowhere! It felt as if she had been stomped flat by a particularly angry warboss, as her muscles ached in every part of her body!

When the Inquisitor finally returned to her, alone as they now were in the hallway, the inquisitor would look at the large, gaping hole in the building before making a comment.

"I said a small one."

"There is no such thing as a 'small' vortex. When you tear the very fabric of reality apart, you never know what you are going to get." Adrianne commented as she gazed back at Zhevon from behind her skeletal mask.

Moving her hands up to her helmet, she'd depressurize it and remove it, instead holding it under her right arm and letting her snow-white hair flow down her neck as she looked back at Zhevon with her deep, purple eyes. Whatever warp glow that may have haunted them previously had by now burnt out and was long gone. Although her helmet and armor may have been covered in dust and grime, the psyker's face remained pristine and clean, shielded as it had been beneath her gear.
She would stare at Zhevon for a moment with an unmoving gaze, before Adrianne would conjure up a small smile on her lips as she looked at the Inquisitor.

"Speak your mind, Inquisitor. I will listen to you."

Her gaze was only interrupted by a small series of beeps suddenly emanating from further back at the end of the hallway, as her servo-skull, M4R1-A appeared around the corner to hover into the ruined corridor where they stood! M4R1-A would pass them by, spinning around to scan them, before continuing out into the lobby area.

As the servo skull passed out of sight yet again, Adrianne would shrug, before returning her gaze towards Zhevon.

Smiles firing the weapon right next to his head was not the best thing for Stukov's hearing, but as he turned back to see the statue collapsing, he would take ringing in his ear over the complete and total loss of his own life. He was busy wiping the blood off his hands as the Sister spoke about injuries that she could help treat, which got a snort from the former Armsman. Nothing could be done out in the field for patching him up, and odds were it was nothing that would affect short term performance. Maybe long term, some surgery might have been needed, but it would not have warranted being pulled from the field anytime soon. Not like they could have the luxury of such things typically. While Smiles concern was appreciated, which got a smirk on his face, it was, again, not like anything could be done for it and he effectively said as much to the group. "Nothing I can't walk off, Smiles, appreciate the thought though. Besides, its not like its anything that could be fixed here, unless one of you lot have a medical suite stuffed right up...."

Probably a good thing that the Inquisitor stepped in and began talking and dispatching orders at that point, considering where his sentence was going at that point. Was it terribly surprising most of them were being dispatched back to a safehouse? Probably not, all the noise, commotion, and likelyhood of any cultists of importance remaining for capture and interrogation still hanging around were pretty much nil. Even so, he had a gut instinct that the fact Smiles was instructed by Boss to hang back was not a good thing, at best a chewing out that wasn't being done in front of everyone else. He'd seen that before, drag the sorry sod off to make everyone else think they were getting strung up, but all that happened was simply getting an ear full for their mistake. But tearing a gaping hole in the museum was not really a minor mistake. Warp spawned abominations of statues were gone, thank the Emperor for that, but it did leave them with no leads to work with at the moment. Being shipped off to a safehouse was hardly interesting, but considering he probably needed to take a few to get himself straightened out, it was not terrible. Before departing, he turned from the group and send a message right to Smiles, on a side channel to avoid it being caught by others. "Catch up when you can, and good luck."

Stukov made sure his weapons were sheathed and out of sight, so he looked unarmed as he reached the escape vehicle and climbed in. Far too nice for his tastes, then again, anything above his paygrade was typically too nice for his tastes, so that could be taken however one willed. Leaning back against the seat, he readjusted his shades and caught his breath, considering how he would go about fixing himself up since Boss so kindly noticed that he had been injured. Alpha had introduced himself prior, and he responded to the man who sat in the driver's seat finally, not touching the drinks for the time being. "The ride is appreciated, Alpha." Beyond that, he kept an ear out for trouble, still ready to jump into a fight at a moment's notice, should the need arise.

Once the dust and debris had settled in the heavily damaged hallway of the Military Memorial Art Gallery, Aviza would be able to clearly see all the destruction and chaos they had caused while fighting the warp statues. They were lucky that the hall had not collapsed on top of them, due to a wall being blown out and most of the room stripped bare. With the slightest effort they managed to do this together, and Aviza wanted to see what they could do in a real combat situation. For the moment though, the Sister of Battle was trying to shake out the dust and dirt from the cloth areas of her armor with little to no effect. After a couple more tries, Aviza finely gave up and let her arms fall limply next to her body, realizing it would take more than shaking out the armor to clean it. From the right side of her peripheral vision, she saw the Psyker known as Smiles struggle onto her feet, with the help of Stukov. In a calm but cold sounding tone of voice, she glared at the Pysker and said "I am not a fat-ass, in fact I am in better shape than you and most of your squadmates.”

Aviza placed her helmet back onto her head and locked it into place with a slight hissing sound that meant it was being pressurized. “I have wasted enough time around all of you and will now be taking my leave.” She rolled her shoulders lightly before turning to leave the building, but was cut short when Inquisitor Zhevon ordered her to return to a safehouse to rest, refresh, and rearm. Aviza nodded her head once respectfully at Inquisitor Zhevon before turning to leave, but he was not done with her it seemed. “I will be speaking with you later.” The Sister of Battle nodded her head once more, “I understand Inquisitor Zhevon, I will be waiting at the safehouse for your arrival.” Aviza knew this was not going to end well for her, or for Smiles who was already getting lectured. “I need to inform the Adeptus Sororitas of my absence or they may do something rash, I am unsure.” thought Aviza to herself before getting into the truck with the rest of her new squad. Bringing her right hand up to the side of her helmet, she held something down before speaking into the built in microphone in her helmet.

At this time, no one else could hear what she was saying or what anyone else said from the com inside of her helmet. “This is Adeptus Sororitas Aviza, I have been ordered by Inquisitor Zhevon to join his squad and to hunt down what appears to be Chaos Forces upon the world. Only contact me on this private channel and none other unless absolutely necessary.” The com would close and those inside of the truck could once again hear Aviza speak. Eyeing the Ginger Ale, Aviza thought about how she rather have something much stronger to drink. That time would come later, but for now she scooted back into her seat and tried to let her body relax. "Guess I am stuck with all of you against my will and my better judgement. Don't get use to my presence though, once the Canoness hears of this, I will be joining her." Aviza smirked from under her helmet at the thought of Cannoness Colistis walking up to the group and yelling at Zhevon as well as the rest of the squad. Colistis, a very heavily decorated solider that had seen many long years of endless war was intimidating to even some of the most bad-ass soldiers who were unlucky enough to fall under her command or meet her in a combat zone.

"Since I am here though, we should get to know each other. I am Aviza Niskaru of the Adeptus Sororitas, Bloody Rose.”

Zhevon took the rod from Ben and mentioned that it can cause brain damage. I suppose he'd concede the point that just keeping it on would be bad. Ben nodded to Zhevon's orders to head to the safehouse, and proceeded to the transport, getting in. Much nicer than the APC's they used on Armageddon. Ben holstered his pistol, and looked at the ginger ale. He eventually would open a bottle, and sip at it, craving some water instead.

Ben rested his head back against the seat and closed his eye, wanting to sleep, but not actually tired. He stayed like this until his twitching hand caught his attention. Ben looked at his metal hand as the finger twitched occasionally. He assumed he had damaged some of the finer circuitry when he punched the statue. He'd have to have it repaired at some point.

The newcomer spoke. "Since I am here though, we should get to know each other. I am Aviza Niskaru of the Adeptus Sororitas, Bloody Rose."

Ben sniffled and looked at her, he hadn't been paying a lot of attention to her after the fight. He nodded to her. "Ben. Or Sergeant Duren. I'll respond to either." Ben gestured to his bionic eye and the surrounding scar tissue. "5 Years on Armageddon." He didn't mention his metal legs in their boots, or his bionic arm covered by coat and glove, but if she figured it out, so be it.

Shouting & cheers echoed through-out a dimly lit hanger storage bay, both guard & navy personnel filling the place, while bookies kept taking bets & running the numbers & odds from a slightly elevated platform where some of the officers had gathered to watch over the fighting match taking place in the center of the crowed. Two navy armsmen began charging at a third opponent the closer one lunging wildly only to miss and have his arm caught before getting thrown off his feet & smacking down onto the metallic floor recovering from the shock of the landing just in-time for a heavy boot to come stomping down onto his face leaving him immobilized in pain holding his now broken nose, The second armsman trying to gain the advantage quickly closed in towards the turned opponent only to receive a surprising swift kick to the face, as his opponent after downing his comrade half-spun planting the sole of their boot as if perfectly timed into his nose which send the second armsman flying feet over head before abruptly landing on his backside wincing in pain as well as he landed on the metal floor.

Cheers & cries erupted from the crowed simultaneously as a self appointed would-be announcer yelled over all the noise from the elevated platform "And that's all eleven contestants eliminated!, Once again station Agi-731 proves the victor! please everyone settle all bets, collect any winnings!, also don't forget to get your wagers in on next weeks squad v squad mock training battle! Agi-731 bravo-2 going up against the war hounds, AkA squad zetta from the heavy cruiser indefatigable!". The mixed crowed began to disperse as naval orderlies & medics jogged over to attend to the wounded contestants & escort them to the medical bay, one walking over to check the victor who only had to help treat & patch-up a few minor scrapes and scratches while he spoke. "You know sergeant, you could try to be a little less rough on them" Natasha sighed turning away as she spoke "then they wouldn't toughen up or learn anything...".

Natasha walked up towards the elevated platform saluting one of the officers as she approached "Very well done Sergeant i finally got the indefatigable's captain to stop bragging about his crew" the man trailed off chuckling to himself in amusement "Ah! here's your winnings from a little bet i made on your behalf enjoy it sergeant!" Natasha caught the overstuffed pouch the man threw towards her & then saluted him again "Thank you Rear-Admiral Tann sir!". She went to leave when one of the admirals subordinates brought him a dataslate, "Wait Sergeant..." the Admiral took a deep sigh before he continued "Your transfer-orders finally came through... a ships on the way to escort you to your new assignment... alas i'm to lose both my best drill-sergeant & my best combatant". he said half jokingly but couldn't help notice Natashas face light-up with excitement at the news, She gave a sharp salute "Permission to go prepare my things sir!" the officer nodded and Natasha ran off towards her quarters.


One week later...

Natasha was coming through a busy arrivals terminal in an extremely large spaceport carrying several near-bursting dufflebags & her guard rucksack, as she stood in queue at a security kiosk amongst many well-off looking people & their servants or security staff, Natasha could feel a lot of curious eyes fixed on her, but kept her cool without looking back as the line slowly progressed. As she approached the Kiosk one of the security staff looked her over before speaking "excuse me documents please" Natasha handed over several papers & a dataslate which were thoroughly inspected, before the the man looked back at her "I'm sorry, but please follow me for inspection of your baggage". an echo of whispers erupted from the line behind her as two guardsmen appeared behind Natasha to escort her along with the officer she'd been speaking to.

After traversing several small corridors they arrived in a small office where a differently dressed officer was waiting, her escorts turned and left after a wave from their superior who'd then handed the documents back to Natasha before leaving himself. "Sorry about all that!, its was for appearances sake since you arrived in the public area, a minor screw up by the administratum in how your transport was arranged!, But anyhow! it's good to see you've arrived now if you'll follow me". Without a word Natasha hurriedly followed the officer who was moving at a very brisk pace likely due to being needed elsewhere, He handed a file containing 'green-sheets' to Natasha when she managed to catch up while carrying her luggage making it a bit of an awkward struggle to grab the file when it was handed to her.

"That's a basic details of the current assignment and please make sure you don't lose it!, last thing we need is some local stumbling upon it and everyone finding out about this operation, in which-case please save the imperium time and paperwork & just execute yourself!". Natasha glared at the man while keeping pace she was about to retort when the officer slowed and hung his head slightly before speaking "Sorry, very busy and short on time i shouldn't take it out on you, your not some newfish fresh out of training after-all".

The officer bowed as way of an apology before continuing to lead the way "Anyway only a select few know of the inquisitions presence here, the driver who'll be taking you to meet the team at a safe-house is one of the few but he's needed elsewhere as well so when your dropped off you'll be reporting in on your own!, you can probably ask any questions you may have there when you meet the inquisitor in charge of it, And with that! i wish you goodluck!". As the officer finished his speech he opened a door guarded by several heavily armed officers of the adeptus arbites where a vehicle sat waiting. After Natasha loaded her luggage the officer gave a salute before abruptly heading back into the building, Natasha got into the vehicle and the driver immediately drove off remaining silent for the entire journey leaving Natasha to read through the file she was given.

Zhevon Amoxa
4x Digital Mandiblaster (1 laser capacity, with 4 spare charges)
1x Heart of Sardonyx Inferno Pistol (3 blast capacity, 2 spare charges)
---

"There is no such thing as a 'small' vortex. When you tear the very fabric of reality apart, you never know what you are going to get." She took her helmet off. "Speak your mind, Inquisitor. I will listen to you."

He let out a low, quiet growl. More in annoyance than anything, still a little agitated about the failure of the mission.
"Fair enough." He admitted, he didn't know much about the powers of a Psyker in the first place. Most of it was magic to him, much like how daemons were able to invade the material realm and attack. Magic. "But you need more experience, Psyker Velenthin." He looked up at her with his blank helmet. "You must act with your instincts, if you have none, then you will gain some. Men like Sergeant Duren and Armsman Stukov are hardened warriors, they feel the battlefield. Its flows and its chaotic nature, they can see the soldiers fighting on both sides and judge what may happen with a single glance." Zhevon spoke, like he was repeating something that had been taught to him, "They can see a situation and their body will sometimes react before they can think. They have done battle for so long, that it is second nature to them. If you ask them how they have survived for so long, how they can react so fluidly when presented with such an ever changing situation, they will not know. They just know to attack with the blade when we must be silent, to fire with precision when we are low on munitions. To tread lightly in enemy territory. To not throw a satchel bomb, when the mission suggests quietness." He took his sword and sheathed it, "War is an unlikely art. One where the artists are condemned to never escape its horrors, once they have sculpted death with their blades and painted with the blood of their foes." He looked to the weakened wall, his voice quiet now.

"We are unfortunate to be soldiers." Walking towards it and tapping it in several places with his knuckles. "But someone must take task, yes? If we are to be the soldiers, charged with defending our homes and our people, then we must be experts." Once he found what he was looking for he took a step back and began to kick the spot, weakening the wall further. After a few kicks, the entire wall collapsed, revealing a large showroom. A large empty showroom. Red stanchions formed squares, dotting the showroom, but there was nothing. He stepped through the wall and peered into one of the squares, seeing an empty space where a pedestal was in the dust. He looked back to Adrianne, "Stick to the less destructive of your abilities. Only use your powerful ones when someone requests it. Until you feel that you can read the battlefield and mission like reading a book. Now then, we'll find this relic that you spoke of before. Perhaps we'll borrow a page from the Blood Ravens..."
The gears in his mind were already cranking, planning their next move.

The Safehouse

"The ride is appreciated, Alpha." Stukov said after he climbed in,
"Oh yeah, no problem guy." Alpha replied. After the group had got in, he started the engine and began to drive. After a moment he began to speak again, "Should take us about 10 minutes to get there. Anyways, heard you guys walked into a nest of Saint Ives' Statues. Fun stuff eh? Since none of you are a quivering mess or taken, I'm going to assume it went fairly well. Funny story about those statues," Alpha looked back at them with a toothy grin, "Don't tell the Big Man I told you guys this. So, this was before I got into all this. So this was years ago, maybe a decade. Those statues had never been seen before, and Zhevon and his team was the first people to see 'em. There was this guy, named Ives. He was a saint or something, really believed that no daemon could touch him, his faith was so strong. So when they saw this grand staircase, with about two dozen or so statues, they really knew something was wrong. They could feel it in their bones. Ives volunteered to go first, rumor says he got no further than 1/4th the way up when he started going wild eyed and screaming at the statues, then the statues jumped him. Grabbed him, opened a portal into the Warp and jumped right through with the guy. Little Zhevon damn near jumped through the portal after them, but he was stopped by everyone else. Twenty minutes later they opened a door into an empty room, the only thing there was a single pedestal, and standing on it was Ives. His face twisted in pain and horror, limbs going the wrong way, spine snapped and bent so his head was upside down. They saw the face slowly contort into a grin." He told them, "Nobody knows what they did next... Well, that's what everyone says anyways."

They arrived at the safehouse soon after the story. It was in a large apartment complex. "Alright, let's go, chop chop." Alpha said, getting out of the parked truck. He lead them to an elevator, and they went up to the 15th floor. It was the door closest to the lift. Alpha opened the door and it was a fairly normal, middle class apartment. Several boxes laid about. There was a staircase leading up to a second floor, and a table with drinks on it and computer equipment sprawled out across its surface. The place was fairly standard, kitchen in a room to the left, lounge to the right, table and couches to the front.
"We got lots of alcohol and some fruit juice in the fridge. Uh... Some left over take out, if anyone wants 'em. Other than that we mostly got dry foods, snacks, cans, that sort of thing. Medical supplies here in this box," Alpha went over, cracking it open, revealing entire kits of medical supplies, "The boxes over here has grenades and bullets and stuff, the ones next to it are guns." He pointed to the boxes right next to the medical ones.
"Ya know we weren't really expecting you guys to show up so fast. Would have gotten better grub. Maybe dusted the place." He shrugged, "We are getting a new guy, should show up in about a half hour or something. Maybe I'll tell someone to get some hot food."

Adrianne Valenthin
"Scylla" [Custom-Built Handgun], .50 caliber, 7 round clip size x 3 carried.
Current magazine status: 6/7, 7/7, 7/7.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Adrianne's smile faded away as Zhevon began to lecture her on his soldier's philosophy. Though she did by no means disagree with the Inquisitor's words, she felt the very act belittling. As if the Inquisitor viewed her as having to previous experience whatsoever!

Such a thing couldn't be further from the truth!

She had watched as the very maw of chaos open up and almost swallow the very planet she had stood on! The petty voices that had driven others insane had been like a deafening chorus of madness to her! Yet she had not broken, she had not balked! While others had seen but the destruction at the periphery of the storm, she had seen its very eye; a blinding mass of eldritch horror, the true end of all things!

"I wish the only thing I saw was merely the death and destruction of the physical battlefield, the carnage revealed to the naked eye." Adrianne finally spoke as she gazed at Zhevon, her eyes narrowing.
"Because for those who have seen past it all, and into the beyond, one realizes; that seen in the light of all things, death is a mercy."

At the end, Adrianne nodded. She did not doubt the things that Zhevon had seen, but she doubted that the Inquisitor could ever hope to see the world the way she did. Indeed, it may perhaps be a blessing that he never had her psychic sight. Many veterans may have believed they had seen the worst the galaxy had to offer them, but what they had merely seen were the limbs of the beast amidst the shade. To psykers, there were no secrets, no shrouding mist. They saw it all, the universe in all its glory and grandeur, as well as its maddening horror!

"Now then, we'll find this relic that you spoke of before. Perhaps we'll borrow a page from the Blood Ravens..."

Adrianne would soon snap out of her contemplation at Zhevon's proposition, and nodded. Indeed, it would be better to continue their search than linger about!

Stepping into the showroom, helmet hanging at her side, Adrianne would plant her staff in the floor and looked about.

Though it was empty, she could still feel the corrupting presence of the building seething in the air of the room. There was really no escape from the piercing corruption... except for the roof, which felt light for some reason.

"The anomaly... it's close." She would speak with a distant look on her eyes, as if she wasn't looking at anything in particular but merely staring at the air. She'd turn towards some stairs at the side of the room, and walk up through them.

The stairs were made out of old planks beneath a dusty carpet. Every time she placed the sole of her metal boot down, it was as if the entire staircase came to life and began creaking. It must have been a nerve-pulling and excruciating experience for most people, as for all they knew, they might very well alert every other enemy on the floor to their approach. But Adrianne knew that there was nothing to fear. Even before she reached the top of the stairs, she had seen the room in her vision.

As they reached the next floor, they found themselves in a dusty, old art storeroom. Ancient and venerable furniture had been stacked into the corners. The red drapery was full of cobwebs, and numerous boxes of old paintings and lesser sculptures dotted the carpet.
Yet like a dog who had caught a sublime scent, Adrianne walked right past the junk, straight towards a large pile of books, scrolls and boxes in the corner! Reaching out a hand, she would brush some scrolls aside, causing a small landslide of dust to pour onto the floor.

Behind the scrolls and junk was what looked like a shield of some sorts.

Grabbing the edge, she'd pull the heavy object halfway out of the pile to reveal an ancient combat shield with the shape of a cruciform. Yet despite its age, its red and white paint seemed pristine. Any dust that fell on it quickly rolled off it, and its metal felt warm to the touch. Added to the shield were various sigils and purity seals,

"I have seen a shield like this before, in the possession of an Astartes!" Adrianne would speak as the psyker studied the shield.
"But this feels different. It is blessed with a powerful aura of purity, capable of chasing away the corruptive influence of this building. This is no petty relic, but an object of power!"

To stand in the presence of the shield was a peaceful experience. The whispers that had haunted her mind in the rest of the house were completely gone. The otherwise tense muscles in her body began to relax, inducing an almost drowsy sensation as her fight and flight instinct began to fade. She had not felt this kind of serenity in a long time!

"I believe we have found the object we were looking for!"

Adrianne would turn to smile to Zhevon, as the psyker seemed genuinely excited at the prospect!

"Mind you, it's a little heavy."

Stukov listened to the rather uptight Sister smugly talking about her Cannonness and an audible, irritated sigh could be heard from the Armsman. Great, another one of these uptight, holier than thou, do no wrong Sororitas that sat so high on their damned horse that they couldn't see the problems they were causing not five minutes ahead of them. He'd found a burned out Convent of them on that damned world the Dark Eldar had put to the slaughter, and while he could not argue their skill in combat, their tactics had not seemed to be much beyond fire and overwhelming force. Not terribly useful against an enemy that specialized in evasive hit and run tactics. Sure, they did a number as far as he was able to tell, but with some sense and tactics they could have done a damn sight better. Skill and status was no excuse for pride and ego, and he was going to say as much, damn making friends, he didn't have energy for this. "And with my better judgement, I'm not going to sit here and let you act all smug and damn superior for setting those statues off, AND interfering with Inquisitorial work and setting into motion the chain of events that cost us that little outing producing anything useful."

The power armor, weapons, and attitude did nothing to intimidate or even impress the Armsman, for being simply human and from what most would consider a far humbler trade, he could bet money on the fact he had seen far worse in the universe than this haughty Sister. So he leaned forward from his seat, resting arms on his knees and looking her dead in the eyes, or visored eyes in the case of a helmet being in the way. "Let's clear this up right now, Sister, your high horse act doesn't impress. For all your armor and weapons, pride and pedigree, your still only human. Where you are now, your no better than me or Watchman here, another soldier in the constant war against the enemies of Man. And unless you can tell me what a Dark Eldar slave pit looks like, the sounds of the very souls of men being torn asunder, or the face of an eternal legion of Daemons as the warp itself invades your ship as the Gellar fields fail, you have no right to talk or be boastful. So stow the pride, Sis, before you get yourself or, Emperor forbid, someone better killed. Alexei Stukov, Senior Armsman, so you know who to cry about when you go running back to your precious Convent."

Coughing again after his little tirade, the man sat back in his seat and, by the fact he half closed his eyes and let his vision rest on the ceiling, he had utterly dismissed the woman from his attention. Was this going to bite him in the ass, now or later? Oh most probably, but if there was one thing he could not stand was the fact that this Sister of Battle had come walking in here, reeking of pride and status, and expected to be treated above the rest of them just because of who she was. Someone wanted to defend her or stand up for her, they were welcome to, but Stukov was not going to have this Sister come walking in and act like it was a curse she was stuck with them. That was insulting and uncalled for, and as they arrived at the safehouse and Alpha rattled off where to look for supplies and such, the Armsman nodded to the man in gratitude, none of the venom or callous tone present as he spoke to the man. "Sounds like I have some digging around to do, then. I'll holler if something comes up, then."

With that, the Armsman made his way over to the gun crate first. He needed something with a bit of reach, more so than his now lost shotgun would have provided. The thing got broken or sucked into the warp, either way, it was gone and needed replaced. Digging through the contents, he ignored the las weapons. Too flashy for his tastes, and he had far more training in shotguns and autoguns than las weapons, even if he could use them if need be. Sure enough, he dug out a Agripinaa Pattern, Type II if memory served, model of Autogun. Sure, it wasn't an M40 Armageddon that most of his brothers in arms preferred, but as usual he liked the Type II more than the M40 Armageddon. Foehammer was discarded as well, since the shotguns had not been doing him much good and he was looking to get a more rounded out set up, and he wasn't terribly sentimental when it came to guns, to the point he wouldn't replace them when needed. Digging around, near the bottom of the crate was not something he expected to ever see again.

A Naval Pistol, technically fell under autopistol, but some, including Stukov, considered the things handcannons for what they did and their sheer weight. Virtually useless against decent armor, the things would not damage components and systems in the fighting area and could do some sickening damage to the fleshy bits that the large caliber rounds got to, splintering into fragments on impact to rend and tear. A good backup for his rifle, a good back up weapon period, and he holstered it and slung his autogun over his shoulder as he emptied the remaining shotgun ammo from his pockets and stuffed numerous 30 round box magazines, for his Autogun, into coat pockets while several 10 round magazines for his Naval Pistol went into the inner pockets of the coat. Making sure the weapons were on safe, he went about digging up medical supplies to do what he could for the fact he was coughing up blood. Considering his usual solution was to bandage and splint the damage and keep moving, he might want to find someone who was better in the medicae field than him, but he might as well get the supplies together and see what he could do with some time to rest.

---

Type II Autogun: 5/5 Magazines, 30/30 Rounds Loaded
Naval Pistol: 3/3 Magazines, 10/10 Rounds Loaded

Sitting still and emotionless in her seat, Aviza had her arms crossed over her chest while she listened to Senior Armsman Stukov spew grand stupidity from the imprudent mouth he should of kept shut for the time being. It was painfully obvious that this man was so lost in his meaningless and delusional rant that he felt as if he had the right to lecture Aviza in front of most of the squad over something he knew very little about. If Stukov had actually fought alongside the Adepta Sororitas in a real combat situation outside of training he would have seen their superb combat skills and tactics were not something to be so carelessly tossed around and insulted so easily. Some of her fellow Sisters were known for their drastic and reckless actions in combat, but this did not reflect the Adepta Sororitas as a whole, and only a weak minded fool, devoid of any power of thinking for himself would believe such a thing. Once Stukov had finished with his venomous rant, he started to cough again, then sat back in his seat and tried to relax while Aviza still stayed in the same position, as if nothing had happened.

Taking the higher road for the moment, she kept her opinions and thoughts to herself, and waited till they arrived at the apartment complex before speaking. There was something in the air inside of the Truck, it was either regret or irony, so thick it could have been cut with a knife. The truck came to a stop out front of a large apartment complex where left the driver’s seat then politely opened the doors for everyone to leave. Nodding her head once in thanks at Alpha, she followed up by saying “Thank you for the ride Alpha, I appreciate all that is being done for us.” Falling silent once more, she stuck behind Alpha and followed him up to the apartment. It took only a few short moments before she familiarized herself with the layout of the apartment, so that she could go take a nap later or if needed alone time. Taking off her helmet and setting it down on the table in the kitchen, she tailed behind Stukov to have a word with him and to also she what she could find in the crates. "Senior Armsman Stukov, I would like to have a word with you about what was said inside of the truck on the way over here. There is clearly unbridled hostility, hate, and misunderstandings that I want to clear up for not only my sake but everyone else’s as well."

"A squad cannot function to its full ability if any of this exists, tearing itself apart from the inside. I will not turn to using insults against you but I will say that everything you said was false, most of it at least. I do not sit high and think of myself as being better than everyone else, in fact I know where my place is upon the ranks and I work exceptionally hard to gain favor and respect among those I fight along with.” Aviza paused and started to look through the crates alongside Stukov. “Unfortunately I do know what a Dark Elder slave pit looks like, as well as a Tyranid feeding pit, and a Chaos torture pen. I have seen the ship I was on split in half, sucking friends out into space only to watch helplessly as their blood boiled inside of their bodies." Aviza now glared at Stukov from behind blue eyes.

"I even watched as my family was slowly sucked into the warp, the grotesque sounds of generations yet unborn screaming out from terror and anguish in voices not of their own, but in the voices of my parents. The sound came from their mouths while their bodies became twisted and deformed before vanishing with an eruption of black flames.” Aviza’s right eye twitched ever so slightly now as she recalled what happened that day to her only true family. “You point the blame of the events today on me as if I am the one blame must fall on. I witnessed you and your squad breaking into the Military Memorial Art Gallery and followed behind all of you shortly after. I did not see what happened with the statues when you first passed through them so I was never warned that they were actually creatures from the Warp. I do not need to explain myself any further but I do need to rest, if you need me for any medical assistance then let me know.” Aviza turned and started to walk back into the living room and let her body go limp in a sitting position upon the couch.

The dark streets were silent except for those few who were stumbling home from bars. That all changed rather quickly as chanting began to fill the air loud and boisterous. There were hundreds of people all of them wearing rags, their bodies scarred and bearing open wounds from having whipped themselves. Some had even sewn their own mouths shut or plucked out a eye. One thing they all had in common though was the chants of the Imperial Cult ringing out from their lips. The faithful had gathered into a mob of religious fury in anger at what was taking place on this planet.

The sound of their feet stomping on the road resounded loudly as they marched along the lane hands raising clubs, auto pistols, knives. Torches also rose in the air their embers raising into the sky and disappearing in instants. Out of the mob to march at the front came a woman who was very different than the rest. She wore power armor, her hair cut short and black as the night that covered the city. In one hand she carried a leather braided whip and in the other she carried a bolt pistol. The expression on her face was one of a serious nature the scar going from the corner of her lip across her cheek only increasing the feeling of disdain she held.

At once she raised her bolt pistol into the air and shouted loudly. “Love the Emperor for he is the Salvation of mankind!” The crowd behind her repeating the chant as they started to make a straight line for a door with a red light above it. “Obey his words for he will lead you into the light of the future!” She stops in front of the door staring at it for a moment before turning back towards the mob. “Faithful! Beyond this door are heretics! They fall from the light as they wallow in the pleasures darkness! They forsake our Emperor and his light! Show them no mercy! So that we might show the rest of this planet what happens to Heretics!” Lykinia’s foot slams into the door making it swing open.

Suddenly the mob rushes forward and around Lykinia pushing into get into the brothel. Screams of horror and pain erupt as they mob takes it’s righteous fury out on the wicked within. As the mob seemed to have all gotten inside a few of them standing outside holding torches looking up and down the street. Lykinia stepped into the brothel passing patrons and prostitutes alike receiving judgement in the form of clubs and other various objects. She stopped in front of a fat man who was blubbering, his lip busted and had bent in a direction it shouldn’t go. She stared down at him. “You are the proprietor of this establishment yes?” The man nodded slowly and the battle sister lashed the whip across his face then continued to have it crack across his body tearing flesh and cloth alike. She then brought her bolt pistol to bear pointing at his forehead. “This is your atonement Heretic.” She pulled the trigger and his head exploded in a spray of gore. Flesh, bone, and brain matter splattered across the faithful, the wall, and the floor.

As the owner’s body fell to the floor limp and gushing crimson liquid, Lykinia stepped over the body pushing past Faithful who seemed to have found a door hidden in the floor. Prying it up she stepped down a series of a stairs to find herself standing in large room dimly lit by flickering torches. Chaotic symbols were scribbled across the walls in a fashion that had no real pattern. Several bodies lay on the ground each of them with their eyes wide open and smiles on their faces. What looked like a bloody hand had been scratching at the wall stained the far side of the room. “Heresy…. So much. This place must be purged.

Lykinia returned to the faithful and took from them bottles of filled with a foul smelling alcohol. She heaved each one down the hole into the room below following this with a torch causing the liquid to catch flame and blaze wildly below. “Burn this den of heresy. Let no blasphemers leave.” She moved past them as the faithful began to shove everyone in the brothel into rooms barricading them and smashing more bottles of the alcohol on the ground. Soon Lykinia and all the faithful stood outside watching the building blaze away. Nobles, PDF, it didn’t matter who it was. If they had been in that brothel she was purging them with fire. “From the blasphemy of the fallen, our Emperor deliver us. From the begetting of daemons, our Emperor deliver us.”

As the Sister walked over and asked for a word, Stukov resisted the urge to remark or say anything to her, instead taking a seat to being an inspection of his autogun while she began talking and attempting to defend herself on the matter of how he was wrong. The problem with her first statement of not being on a high horse was, first off, the way she acted was not indicative of that when they first crossed paths. Tone and actions had implied differently, and maybe she was not like that typically, but first impressions were powerful and dangerous things. He saw pride and a high horse mentality from that, and for all he knew it was going to crop up again. Reminded him too much of superiors who tried to seem reasonable behind doors but acted like hard ass superiors when it really mattered, and he was not interested in playing that sort of game. Pulling the slide back on the empty autogun, he made sure it was a smooth action while she continued finishing that thought and said nothing, at least giving her the chance to finish in full before he would say anything in response. The action was smooth as she began on knowing indeed what such things such as Dark Eldar and other pits of torture and death sounded like.

Stukov wasn't going to play a game of one up manship in trauma and hard times. He wouldn't pretend to know having saw everything, Daemons and Dark Eldar, that was what he knew. And as far as he knew, they were the greatest threats to the Imperium of Man. He would not pretend to know the Tyranid or a family lost to the warp, not blood relation at any rate. As far as he knew, his ship was his family and that meant watching it get devoured was the same. But there was no point getting emotional over such things, it was the fate of man. Die in service to the Emperor and fighting the enemies of Man, grow too old to be useful outside of training or, far more likely, find one's self in the service, knowingly or unknowingly, of the enemies they had sworn to hard to fight. It reminded him of an old adage his mentor had, those who fought and hunted the warp tended to, when caution waned, to become little better than what they had stood so long against. Her glare did not so much as move Stukov, as he spared her a glance to see if she still fully intended to continue as he slung the autogun over his shoulder and drew his Naval Pistol, starting a check on it as well.

The Armsman sighed quietly as Sis claimed her actions just or correct as she had seen them breaking into the museum and chose to come after them and investigate on her own. Wasn't that, far as he knew, jurisdiction of the local Adeptus Arbites to come knocking and investigate any reports of crime like that? And while he had been sorely tempted to, he could not solely pin blame all on her. Smiles rather loud response didn't help, nor should the lot of them have left the entry way unsecured to such a degree someone could simply waltz in after them. Then again, Boss and his power sword did a number on the locking mechanism, to put it kindly, so that was not a terribly easy thing to do. As she finished, he released the slide and let a round chamber in the pistol, putting it on safe and holstering the weapon as he did the same for his autogun, loading and putting it on safe before reslinging it as the Sister made her last statement on medical attention, having no intention of asking her for medical aid. Not like there was much that could be done in this safe house for coughing up blood, which wasn't consistent and probably just a side effect of a helmet transferring force through to his gut and bottom two ribs, far as he could feel, everything was still intact anyways.

Sticking his head through the doorway, he put his final say in the matter, neutral in tone. "Trauma stories appreciated, Sis, but first impressions are a dangerous and powerful thing. I'll concede blame can't be all yours and you couldn't know about the statues, but far as I know, typical response to apparent law breakers is call the Arbites, not barge in yourself. Far as I know, Sisters don't get to execute the law as they see fit on a planet. You enjoy your nap, then, holler if something comes up." Stukov would sit down to do what he could for his apparent injuries, mostly grab some meds that would help clot any internal injuries, from what the instructions and warnings said, and took them before starting a roving patrol of the safehouse, keeping his autogun in hand and an eye out for trouble. No sense letting an apparent moment of safety lull them into being easily ambushed, and having an extra hand walking the halls and watching for trouble couldn't hurt. Besides, who knows, perhaps something would come up that would plop a lead right in their collective laps. "And perhaps the Emperor would see fit to show up and kick the sorry asses of everything hostile in this damn universe, putting us all out of work...." The armsman muttered to himself as he walked, vigilant and listening for anything that sounded out of place.

COLLAB POST: Skyrte & Rithy

She became animated once more at the mention of finding the relic, and immediately set off to finding it. She lead the him to an old wooden staircase, when she walked upon it, it creaked and groaned. Zhevon followed, keeping an eye on the stairs, wondering if they were strong enough to hold their weight. Soon enough, they arrived at the top. It was an attic like room, dusty and filled with cobwebs. Old paintings and sculptures lay about, gathering dust. The Gallery's original inhabitants, Zhevon guessed. He found himself wandering towards an old bookcase, full of ancient books. He grabbed one and flipped through it, reading the words fine, but making no sense of it. The contents were dense and written in an older form of high gothic. He felt dumb in its presense, so he put it under his arm, wanting to read the book of philosophy later. He looked over the book case again, finding a old leather book, bordered with heavy iron. He narrowed his eyes, recognizing the text from its spine cover.

He heard a loud rustle, and looked over to where Adrianne was. She had pulled out a shield from the corner. Zhevon looked back to the iron and leather book, which wasn't there anymore. He let out a quiet humph, it was an old book that he was very familiar with. A book of war. He took it as an omen of coming combat. Bringing his attention back to Adrianne and the shield, he walked over to her.

"I have seen a shield like this before, in the possession of an Astartes! But this feels different. It is blessed with a powerful aura of purity, capable of chasing away the corruptive influence of this building. This is no petty relic, but an object of power!" She explained, looking up at Zhevon, with a smile on her face. "I believe we have found the object we were looking for!"
Zhevon knew what the shield was, not just any combat shield, the next evolution of one. A Stormshield. "Yep. This is our thing, and not just any thing, an Astartes Stormshield..." He said, crouching down next to it.
"Mind you, it's a little heavy."
He tried to lift it, giving it a little test. "Oh yeah." He agreed, "Come on big guy, we'll get you out of here and get you back home." He gave it another heave, to no avail. He took the book from under his arm and quickly stuffed it into his ruck. He gave it once more, another heave and successfully pulled it out of the pile of dusty boxes. He stood up, letting the large shield lean on his body. He muttered something about its weight, then said strained, "Let's go, we should get to the safehouse." Wondering if she took what he asked to heart.

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Adrianne would gaze at Zhevon as the Inquisitor moved to lift the shield. The look on her face would be that of both amusement, and a little surprise when the Inquisitor finally managed to lift the shield up. Yet despite the impressive feat and show of what could only be considerable core strength, Adrianne noticed how the Inquisitor leaned threateningly to each side, as if he risked falling over at any moment!

Moving her gaze over to the staircase, she wondered how many stairs Zhevon would actually be able to make before tumbling over and falling down the entire staircase along with the shield. A morbid curiosity in her made her almost tempted to let him try, but the nobler side of her made her decide to intervene.

"You know, Inquisitor. I am not going to question your manliness or your strength... " She would start somewhat slowly, looking at the Inquisitor with a soft smirk.
"But I think you're going to feel that shield all the way through to next week if you try taking it with you down those stairs. I'm not questioning your ability, but, you are standing next to a Master of Telekinesis... "

Adrianne spoke with a slightly suggestive tone, making a small but not so subtle emote with her hand to motion at herself.

The shield was definitely no little toy by any means or interpretation. Adrianne doubted she would be able able to lift it with mere physical strength alone, but for her powers, holding that shield locked in the air in front of them would be a breeze.

It only remained to see how far Zhevon's pride would allow her to help him.

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Zhevon looked at her, down at the shield, then back at her. "No, nah, I can do this." He said, "Don't want to freak people out in the street or anything." He quickly made up the excuse. "Now... Uh..." He mumbled, slowly shuffling to the stairway. There was a little smile on his face, lugging around this huge shield reminded him of when he was a child, fetching the shield for his father when there were times of war. Except this time the shield was actually big, and heavy for the average person.

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"Understood." Adrianne said, following behind Zhevon as the Inquisitor began walking towards the staircase. Emperor forbid, she did not want to stand in front of him and potentially risk getting the shield in her head. It was better to walk behind him, so that she could clearly see if the Inquisitor was about to 'drop the ball', for lack of better words.

"This can never end well... "

She thought to herself as they approached the staircase, instinctively taking a step back to give Zhevon room.

"Are you sure the staircase can even take it?" She'd ask cautiously as they stood at the edge of the stairs. In her mind, she was convinced that it would be best for only one of them to use the stairs at a time. Judging by the noise they had made coming up, she was sure that both of them with the shield would be the last straw and the entire thing would just collapse!

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"Probably not..." He replied, taking a first step anyways. The stair groaned under the weight and Zhevon took his foot off of it. He took a second to think, then he set the shield down, and slid it down the stairs, making a series of loud thuds as the shield hit each stair. "Not the most glamorous way to get down, but it's better than falling into a dusty pit full of spiders." He said to both the shield and Adrianne. He went down the stairs after it and took his time picking it back up, again leaning it against his body.

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Adrianne would flinch at the thundering sound generated by the stormshield as it bumped down the stairs to crash down at the bottom, tearing off pieces of wood straight off both the steps and surrounding walls before violently crashing onto the floor with a loud bang!

"So much for being a venerable, priceless relic."

She would grimace at the stormshield's treatment at the hands of the Inquisitor. But it hardly did any real damage to the legendary shield, at best ripping off one of the purity seals.

Yet Adrianne would eventually just shrug her shoulders, before stepping after the Inquisitor. Her first step down the stair was cautious, as if she feared the stair would collapse after the beating it had received from the venerable Stormshield. The stormshield had probably done more damage to the building than what the building could ever hope to do to it!

But she made it down to the bottom of the stairs just fine, the steps never collapsing under her and sending her down into some forgotten daemon pit they hadn't discovered somewhere in the lower levels of the building!

"Just don't tell me I didn't warn you." Adrianne would comment when she heard another grunt from Zhevon as he carried the shield.
As they walked through the hallway, she would look out to her side and through the giant, gaping hole in the wall that she had made. The sky on the outside was a mix yellow and red, as dusk was upon the city. It looked quite bautiful from the gallery, if one could look past the devastation wrought in the hall that they were in.

But when she looked down at the plaza, she could also see a number of vehicles and heavily armed and armored arbiters rushing about. The large spotlights on the vehicles had been directed towards the building, and she could see small and curious crowds gathering at the various walkways and balconies around the gallery grounds.

"I guess the welcoming committee has finally arrived." She would comment to Zhevon, as the Inquisitor was probably too busy to even notice as he struggled to carry his shield which blocked half his view.

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"Eh?" Zhevon asked, peering forwards, "Oh."
"Identify yourselves!" A loudspeaker boomed out.
"Inquisitor Zhevon Amoxa! And company!" He yelled out to them, although not as loud as the loudspeaker.
"Identification!" The loudspeaker boomed again, wanting proof.
"I uh... Can't really!" He yelled back, shrugging with the shield, in a few seconds a rather decorated, middle aged Arbite commander walked out from the group of vehicles towards them. As the arbite got closer, he yelled, confused.
"Zhevon?! How long has it been!"
Zhevon was equally as confused, he glanced at Adrianne, "Uh, yeah! Too long buddy!"
"Five years I think, when you were flung out of that chapel and into my truck! Those were the days, adventure, action, those two months had it all!" The Arbite laughed, he waved down his troops
"Oh yeah, pity you couldn't join us."
After a few moments of 'catching up', a younger Arbite came up and whispered something into the Commanders' ear. He and Zhevon said their farewells and he left.
"I have no idea who that guy was." Zhevon admitted.
The young Arbite looked at his watch, "I'll give you guys a ride to the safehouse." He said, jogging back to a truck, he switched it on and drove closer.

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As they met with the young arbiter at the bottom of the stairs to the gallery, Adrianne would be sure to gain eye contact with the boy and motion silently towards Zhevon carrying the shield next to her.

She would not pretend to belittle the Inquisitor's manliness in front of mere local arbiters by asking out loudly, but the arbiter nonetheless seemed to understand the secret gesture as he rushed over to offer his aid to the Inquisitor.

"That's too much shield for you to handle, big boy."

While Zhevon and the young arbiter worked on pushing the huge stormshield into the back of the truck, hopefully without breaking any backs, Adrianne would enter the armored truck and take a seat at the front next to the driver seat. Maybe the Inquisitor might have objections about taking the backseat, but Adrianne was used to sitting next to the driver. Her skills as a diviner worked best when she could more easily interact with the pilot of the vehicle or grab the steering wheel should she sense danger.

When Bravo finally came around to jumping into the driver seat, Adrianne would lean her head slightly towards him.

"Take a stop at the local market. There is one at the street eight blocks north of here. I have some things that I need to pick up."

She would speak with a motionless expression while continuing to stare straight ahead out of the reinforced windshield, yet as she sat, a deep and loud growl emanated from her belly.

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Bravo looked at her stomach when he heard the growl. "Uh, yeah sure. Zhev, we'll grab some food then yeah?" Zhevon just nodded, and after a short ride they stopped at the market. It was a fairly remarkable grocery, well lit, and having very expensive food. Likely for the very wealthy nobles that like to shop for themselves. Zhevon and Bravo got out of the truck and went into the store, looking for some ingredients to cook up.

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Adrianne would soon follow the two others, whilst leaving her staff and helmet behind in the truck.

Walking into the store behind them, she'd gaze around. The store was absolutely massive, consisting of a great hall supported by four central and gigantic stone pillars. Lane upon lane of storage shelves were lined across the massive area, and the white marble floor was white and pristine to the point one could easily use it as a mirror! Even the shelves were lined and trimmed with gold paint upon onyx painted wood and steel frames.

Yet the sight did not seem to impress Adrianne. Instead, she set off to march forward, like a woman on a mission, before disappearing into the massive jungle of shelves!

Arriving some minutes later, she would once again reappear from the maze that was a market, to walk over to the counter and carrying large sacks of frozen food and junk foods, bags of chips, chocolate and various energizing drinks. She would drop it all onto the counter, to the great horror of the store assistant who stood behind it, a small and somewhat thin girl wearing a white store uniform and with her golden hair tied into a ponytail.

"Do you have a membershi,-" The girl was about to ask, but when she suddenly received an angry stare from Adrianne's purple eyes, she'd immediately go quiet and simply start processing the wares.

Once she was done with the purchase, Adrianne would walk out of the market with two giant bags, before unloading them like a small avalanche in the back of the armored arbiter truck. Procuring a bag of chocolate covered chips from one of them, she'd jump back into the passenger seat next to the driver seat and begin eating as she waited for Zhevon and his arbiter friend, crunching away at the bag's contents at an impressive rate!

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Zhevon and Bravo hopped into the truck right after Adrianne got in, having a small bag of apples and various other things, in the backseat next to the Inquisitor. It was only a short ride to the apartment complex containing the Safehouse. During the ride there, Zhevon and Bravo discussed who would carry the shield up, and ultimately it ended up being Bravo. For some reason, he had a wide grin on his face, even when hefting the shield.

The trio went up the elevator. Zhevon was moving with a purpose, and Bravo was moving with a very heavy shield. As such, they went right into the Safehouse. The Inquisitor, with his bag of apples and ingredients, walking right into the kitchen and closed the door without saying much of anything to his retinue.
Bravo however, in his arbite garb, walked over to the table and almost dropped it on the table, letting it hit with a loud thud. He wiped some sweat off his chin. He and Alpha exchanged friendly greetings.

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Having finished her bag of chocolate covered chips and stuffed the bag down into the interior door pocket of the truck, Adrianne would hop out of the vehicle and onto the street, staff and helmet in hand.

"Sure you don't need any help?" She joked to Zhevon and Bravo as they moved to unload the heavy stormshield.

Behind her, M4R1-A, her servo-skull, would float out from the armored arbiter truck to swing around as it scanned its new surroundings.

As both of her hands were already busy holding her helmet and staff, she would instead resort to using a small power of levitation on her two large grocery bags to make them float up into the air and hover next to her. The street looked empty enough to the point Adrianne felt confident enough that there was no hidden spectator that would enact a witch hunt just because he or her saw a pair of floating bags.

Following Zhevon and Bravo into the apartment building and up to the 15th floor, Adrianne would be quick to locate the living room.

"I hope starvation hasn't claimed any of you mortals yet. I come bearing relief." Adrianne would speak out to the rest of the denizens of the safehouse with a smirk as she motioned towards her two bags of junk and frozen food, before flicking her finger and causing them both to drop to the floor.

Leaning her staff against the couch and placing her skeletam helmet on the armrest, Adrianne would be quick to locate a wrapped sandwich, a bag of chips and a bottle of sparkly energy drink before she'd slump down into the couch! Lying across it, holding the baguette with both hands, she'd begin tearing through it as though she had never tasted food her entire life!

Stukov heard the general commotion as the Inquisitor, Smiles, and company came strolling in with a damn huge shield of some sort or another. It looked far too heavy for any normal man to wield, and he wasn't sure a man in power armor could even heft the thing. Who in the Emperor forsaken warp could wield such a thing, then? The armsman had never encountered nor even heard more than hushed whispers of the Space Marines, Adeptus Astartes, so the idea that the thing was a shield used by such towering super soldiers was not even a consideration to the armsman. Perhaps it was a Chaos relic, used by some daemon blessed, or possessed, warlord to best the loyal servants of the Imperium? He didn't get that vibe from the item though, so he could not even begin to fathom who would use it. In his time of service, he had not encountered traitor or loyalist Marines of any sort, boarding actions encountering daemons or mortal lackies and opposing chaos equivalent of armsman. The captain he had slain had been a rogue Trader Prince who grew far too much in power, and succumbed to whispers of dark power and temptation. Not times he wanted to lightly remember, so he shook such thoughts from his head and completed his current walk about.

Walking back over to the living room, he noted Smiles and her rather hefty amount of food she had acquired. She was rather busy tearing into her bread, but it was all too fancy for his tastes. He would go see if the kitchen had some rations he could choke down, since the Armsman was not a fan of fancy food or needlessly showy or elaborate meals. Far as he was concerned, anything above rations was just about that, more elaborate than necessary. But he did make a comment in her direction, seeing as she had clearly wasted no time tearing into her meal. "Good to see you and Boss made it back in one piece, Smiles. Guess that warp trickery plays merry havoc with the appetite, eh?" Giving the psyker a chance to respond, if she had any interest to between bites, he would eventually excuse himself to go to the kitchen area and see if the canned food was around the level of such rations, and check in on Boss as well. He had kind of just stormed off on his own, barely saying a word to anyone. Not a good sign, if anyone was to ask his opinion on the matter. Which no one had, but the point stood.

Walking over to the kitchen door, Stukov moved the rifle to be slung across his back and knocked with three, sharp taps to announce full well someone was about to enter. As he opened the door, he scanned the kitchen area for trouble, as he had been since he set foot in this safehouse. It wasn't intended as an insult towards the gentlemen who ran the place, but he probably would not really feel at ease planetside, ever. Put the man in a void ship and he would be happy not having to walk the streets and towns of such worlds, keeping to his more familiar grim architecture and grand, sweeping weapon batteries. But he did not let such things linger in his mind, speaking towards wherever Boss was in the kitchen area, letting his gaze settle there as he let his arms rest by his sides. "Manage to salvage something from that museum after all, I see. Everything in order, Boss?"

Ben Duren
Plasma Pistol 5 Photohydrogen flasks, 50 shots.
Lasgun 4 "jungle" power packs, 480 shots
Devil's Claw, elbow grease, Infinite ammo

In the car Stukov ended up exploding on the sister of battle. He was tired, he had a long day and was likely injured. Ben understood. When the entire group arrived at the safehouse, he nodded to Alpha, the man who drove them there as a silent thank you.

Ben's first stop was finding a cup and filling it with water. After he had downed it twice, he was in a much better mood, and was feeling a bit less worn out from the short fight. It had been a while since he had ended up in a real fight. After he had gotten water, he went to the medical supplies, and found a bag he could sling over his shoulder like a messenger bag. Ben removed a few less useful items to make room for ammo.

Now ready to carry some items not just in his pockets, Ben happened upon a voss pattern lasgun. He smiled for a moment looking at the weapon. The preferred pattern of the Emperor's finest grunts, the men of Armageddon used them. Ben adjusted the strap and folding the wire stock and slung it over his shoulder. With a real rifle, Ben went to the ammo crate, and dug out several sickle power cells. Once he had them, Ben went to Alpha and asked for some heavy duty duct tape.

After a few minutes of scrounging the apartment, Alpha produced it from a drawer, and made a small quip about how humanity couldn't have conquered the stars without the silver stuff. Ben nodded a polite agreement, and went about making jungle clips, something the Catachan boys Ben had met did for fast reloading. Now ready to fight the galaxy, or at least the next few cultists, Ben sighed in relief.

Ben adjusted the large machete on his back so he could get an easy draw of the weapon, moved the satchel to be resting mostly on his waist, and kept the lasgun to his right shoulder, and played with the strap with his thumb. Time to play the good NCO. Check on the troops after a fight. Ben went to the sister first, and stood over her laying on the couch. "You know he means well, right?" Ben asked her.

Regardless of her response, Ben would shrug. "Just tired and all. Long day. He's rough around the edges. He gave you a nickname already, sis. I Know, its not original. But I think it means he'll like you, in due time." Ben would look around and nod, and give the woman a weak smile. If the woman said anything, he would excuse himself to go check on Stukov. If not, he would excuse himself all the same.

Before Ben made it to the Stukov, the Inquisitor and the Psyker arrived with a new guest and a relic. Ben watched, and politely declined the food. He wasn't hungry. He had never liked eating on missions. He preferred nutrient pastes and gruels. Not for their tastes, but because it made life easier. Spend 1 minute eating. More time to sleep when you weren't on watch.

After the commotion, Ben would make his way to Stukov, intercepting him before he got to the kitchen. "Hey, Rainy parade." He would say with another weak, tired smile. "Can you try and play nice? I know, hard to like everyone. We might need her. She's got a big gun." Ben said appealing to his side that liked being on the winning side of a gunfight. With that Ben left him be, and made his way to the Psyker.

Ben looked at Adrianne, and was feeling much calmer about her right now. "You alright?" He asked. "I've heard the whole... power thing can be tiring." He said, waving his hands around to accent it. Ben looked at her, for a moment looking much older than his 29 years. "Could you just. Try to be a little more careful. Some of us live and die by what we can do with our bare hands." Ben looked at his metal hand when he said this. "Well. Hands." With that, he nodded to her, and left to check himself. Ben segregated himself from the group, and removed his left glove, and opened and closed the metal hand. The knuckles were dented and there was a few exposed wires. It twitched without commands. Benjamin Duren sighed looking at it.

"I heard that Stukov, mind your tongue such that it does not venture so close to heresy, lest you be found wanting in the eyes of the Emperor and your soul be truly lost to oblivion.” Aviza’s tone of voice had now turned to a dark and forbidding one with a glare to match. A fire burned behind her eyes that showed she was very serious about her threat. The Adeptus Sororitas crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back into the couch, letting her mind wonder before falling into a deep, peaceful, and relaxing sleep shortly after. Aviza had taught herself how to go to sleep and how to stay asleep through almost any event that could occur. Unfortunately this advantageous talent did not include being able to stay asleep after a Psyker tosses her heavy booted feet on top of your lap in the middle of a peaceful and much needed nap.

The door being kicked open by Bravo and the shield being dropped on a table did not wake Aviza up. What did wake her up though was the Psyker who had jumped onto the couch, seemingly unaware of the Sister of Battle that was sleeping on the other end of it. Aviza jolted upright violently before glancing around the room, then down at her lap where the Psyker had rested her feet. Reaching onto the side of her armor, Aviza pulled out an extremely sharp looking knife, twirling it between her fingers gracefully. While grabbing onto the end of the sandwich, Aviza took the knife and cleanly cut off a good sized slice of it before placing the knife back into its sheath upon the armor. “Thank you for the end of the sandwich Smiles.” said Aviza with a soft smirk, while gently moving herself off of the couch and resting the Psykers feet back down against it.

Walking away while chewing on the part of the sandwich she had cut free, Aviza made her way into the kitchen, appearing as if she was on a mission to find something to eat. Zhevon was standing in the kitchen with Stukov, “Good evening to both of you.” There was a large assortment of cooking supplies laid out in front of Zhevon very neatly and well organized. It was clear he was prepping to cook something, but what exactly was still up for question. Picking up one of the apples, Aviza tossed it up into the air before letting it fall back down before she would catch it, repeating this as she spoke. “You never inquired about my personal rank Inquisitor Zhevon, so I will take the liberty of informing you myself about this information so we may become better acquainted.

I am Aviza Niskaru, Celestian of the Adepta Sororitas, Ebon Blade.” With a quick turn on her left foot, Aviza was now facing Stukov. “You said earlier that as far as you know, Sisters don’t get to execute the law as they see fit on a planet and that the typical response to apparent law breakers is to call the Arbiters, not barge in myself. With all due respect, you are incorrect, the truth is that any time an Adepta Sororitas moves into an area it instantly becomes their jurisdiction and they have a much higher authority than an Arbiter.” Aviza would turn her back to Stukov once more before offering to help Zhevon cook. “I can assist with whatever you are planning on making. From an educated guess, it’s clearly some sort of dessert, perhaps a pie, cake or another baked good. As a side note, I am wondering what that shield is, it's nothing I have ever seen anyone carry before and seems to give off an aurora of purity.”

Not waiting for a reply, Aviza pulled out the same knife that she had used only a short while ago to cut off part of the Psykers sandwich, then used it to start peeling apples. The knife cut through the skin of the apples, trimming it off with no trouble at all, leaving a remarkably clean cut apple. Placing the clean cut apples in a bowl, Aviza would repeat this, keeping a close eye on Zhevon at the same time. "I have a recommendation for the top of this pie or cake that we are making. It's a coffee cake crumble with brown sugar glaze, will go perfectly with the apples." Glancing around the room as if looking for something specific, Aviza asked an out of place and rather strange question. "I was wondering if you by chance may own a guitar, adding some ambiance seems like it's much needed and would be appreciated here."

The mob had gotten bigger it filled up the street for a lock in either direction now, and was large enough that the Arbiters had set up a perimeter rather than getting in any closer. Armored vehicles were set up to block the roads and the Arbiters took up positions behind them watching the mob closely knowing that if they were to fire they’d incite a riot so large that likely most of them wouldn’t survive. What furthered this dread was the Sister in Power armor standing up on top of a vehicle parked on the side of the road almost directly in front of the still burning brothel. Screams of agony had been issuing from the building only minutes before, but now only the crackling of flames devouring everything inside could be heard.

While a cordon area was established around the site of the mob, reports were being voxxed back to higher ups, a local Judge being dispatched to supervise the situation as Repressors that were not being used as part of the Arbites riot lines ferried arms, supplies, and Arbitrators back and forth as needed. Suppression shield equipped Arbites formed the main line, shields linked to create an imposing wall of black carapace and electrified shields. Behind them, ranged support specialists were preparing various non lethal weapons, and lethal if the need arrised, and senior Arbites Proctors discussed methods to most successfully scatter this mob when the time came, plans and reports on arriving manpower and munitions being sent to the on scene Judge. These reports would soon be finding their way to rather different ears than merely the Arbites command, certain elements that were above the Imperial Law would no doubt be aware of this riot before long. What was most noticeable was the reports of a power armored individual, one that matched the appearance of a veteran Sister of Battle, was being made mention of in almost every report, each potential plan being snagged by the woman’s presence amongst the mob.

The mob seemed to suddenly calm down as Lykinia raised both hands in the air. “Faithful! Faithful! Calm yourselves! You do the Emperor’s work this night!” She lowers her hands slowly and lifts up her bolt pistol keeping it at her side. “The wicked will never escape the righteous fury of the Emperor’s faithful! We serve him through our constant faith! As we bring light to the darkness that Corrupts men’s hearts! And only with holy flame!” She motions behind herself to the burning brothel. “Can we truly purge the Heresy that lives among us! Even now the allies of Heretics have given orders for these deliverers of justice to bring wrath down upon the Emperor’s faithful! You and I, they wish to see us destroyed that they may continue to corrupt themselves and all that are helpless without the Emperor’s light! We here tonight are the Champions of that divine light! We must make them see the corruption within this world!”

As soon as the Sister began speaking, her voice calming the mob as she drew their attention, Proctors and the Judge also listened and reported the changes on the scene as necessary while arming and the alerting of the appropriate figures was made. Whether she was indeed correct about the heretics and their allies summoning the Arbites to act as a method of silencing such a mob, or not, was irrelevant in the minds of the Arbites on scene. They would uphold the Imperial Law, and such wanton destruction and unlawful actions were clear violation of such things, and the line of Arbites riot officers tightened as they prepared their power mauls, while weapons were loaded behind them, manacles prepared and Repressors for shuttling away the arrested were made ready. The Judge had decided that the mob’s actions were in violation of Imperial Law, and whether the Sister was involved or not was irrelevant at this point.

"Manage to salvage something from that museum after all, I see. Everything in order, Boss?" Stukov said,
Zhevon turned around, having just laid out his ingredients and gathered his cooking utensils. "Yeah, I just have a lot to think about. Cooking helps me think." He explained, he turned back around and took off his leather gloves, revealing pale skin. He put them on the counter and picked up a kitchen knife and began to peel some of the apples over the sink. "Thinking about sending some messages about that shield, and our next move."

A moment later, the Sister came into the room. “Good evening to both of you.” She picked up one of the apples, “You never inquired about my personal rank Inquisitor Zhevon, so I will take the liberty of informing you myself about this information so we may become better acquainted."
"I uh-"
"I am Aviza Niskaru, Celestian of the Adepta Sororitas, Ebon Blade.” She introduced herself. She then turned to Stukov and discussed something about Arbites and Sisters. To which Zhevon looked at Stukov and shrugged. The Inquisitor didn't have the slightest idea of who held more authority over the other. She spoke very quickly, leaving little room to reply. “I can assist with whatever you are planning on making. From an educated guess, it’s clearly some sort of dessert, perhaps a pie, cake or another baked good. As a side note, I am wondering what that shield is, it's nothing I have ever seen anyone carry before and seems to give off an aurora of purity.” She began to peel the other apples, "I have a recommendation for the top of this pie or cake that we are making. It's a coffee cake crumble with brown sugar glaze, will go perfectly with the apples." She took a quick glance around the room, "I was wondering if you by chance may own a guitar, adding some ambiance seems like it's much needed and would be appreciated here."
Zhevon took this time to speak up, having stopped peeling his apple, "Celestian Niskaru, slow down." He said, then moving over to a cutting board and began to cut the apples into slices. "It's a simple apple pie for now, we don't have the ingredients for your recommendation. Perhaps the next time we visit one of the safe houses, we'll make your coffee cake." He explained, "And no guitar, I'll tell the guys to add guitars to the other safe houses." He looked back to Stukov, "As for the shield... It's an Astartes Stormshield, often given to Terminators or Veterans. I don't recognize the Chapter colors either, so I'll have to make some calls. It's a relic, that's for sure. Somehow blessed, it would likely disorient daemons and repel the influences of Chaos." He explained to Stukov and Aviza, after a second, he spoke up again, "Say, Psyker Velenthin has a Servoskull correct? Perhaps the skull captured some useful footage, we should review it."

Adrianne would stare in shock at the remaining half of her sandwich which had recently been brutalized by the impudent Sister of Battle! However pleasant Ben's change of manners had been to her, Adrianne's full attention would instead be focused on the brutish transgression made by the sister!

Her violet eyes flickered between the sandwich and Aviza, as she opened her mouth as if to say something. Though in her surprise she did not find the air to speak, she clearly gestured a 'That was mine!' message with her mouth! But rather than make a go at the sister, Adriannne instead chomped down on her sandwich angrily while giving Aviza an evil eye as the sister moved to leave the room.

Carefully watching the sister's big, power-armored butt as it left the room; almost as if Adrianne feared Aviza would make another attempt on her sandwich; the psyker would eventually calm down as the Sister of Battle disappeared out of sight and instead looked around while chewing on her sandwich.

"This is boring... I need some entertainment!"

"M4R1-A, initiate video recording from timestamp Theta." Adrianne would speak out between almost eating the entire baguette in one chomp. Her servo skull would react, moving to a position behind the couch where it would hover in the air, and emit a flickering beam of light past her head and onto the wall in front of her, acting like a projector on the wall.

With a single move of her hand, Adrianne would cause the curtains and drapery in the room to close, creating a dampened cinematic atmosphere as M4R1-A projected its recording of their short adventure at the gallery, showing them a view of the group from the servo-skulls perspective as they first stepped into the lobby of the gallery, to when they walked into the great hallway lined with statues on either side. A sound emitter at the base of the servo-skull hailed the recorded voices and sounds of the party into the apartment, recreating the gallery run step for step.

"It's a rerun of our gallery run if anyone wants to see." Adrianne spoke out to the rest of the group as the psyker had already finished her sandwich, and moved onto a bag of chips and bottle of soda that she munched down on!