Lucia hated everything about the man holding her. The smell of his rotting flesh burned her nostrils. His impossibly tight grip, restricting her movement, infuriated her. And the way he kept sniffing at her hair and licking the side of her face made her sick to her stomach. The psyker could see Kraken a few metres in front of her, determined to complete his mission, even if it cost him his life. She could count five cultists, all armed, and knew that all it would take is one lucky shot, and the unarmoured Kraken would be dead.

There was no choice now, Lucia realized. She would have to take her chances and use her powers. She could still remember the first time she had used them. It was two years ago, on her home world. She had just returned to her village after spending the day out in the country side. The sun had set a while ago, but the lanterns that lined the main road had not yet been lit. A man had come out of the shadows and grabbed her from behind, dragging her into a nearby alley. Lucia had tried to scream for help, but the man had covered her mouth with his hand as he forced himself on her. And then it had happened. Lucia had reached out with her mind, and she was able to see inside her attacker – every organ, every vital system – almost as if he had been split open in front of her. The amount of control she had over the man's body had scared her, yet at the same time the power she wielded excited her.

But the attack was only the start of her problems. There had been witnesses to the struggle and Lucia had been branded a witch. After a biassed trial, she had been sentenced to death by "purifying fire." Lucia had pleaded with the villagers, trying to explain the situation. She begged them to show leniency. But they refused to listen. They had said that Lucia had orchestrated the whole thing, that she had bewitched the man and forced him to attack her.

If it hadn't been for Dovator, she would have been burned at the stake the next morning. He never did tell her why he had come to her village in the first place, or what had happened during his meeting with the village elders. Knowing Dovator as she did now, Lucia could imagine any number of insults that the Inquisitor may have uttered during his attempt to resolve the situation diplomatically. The end result had been the two of them running through the woods toward his ship with an angry mob following them. Lucia still remembered the look on their faces when they entered the clearing and saw his ship. They had stopped in their tracks, dumbstruck, and ran for cover as the engines ignited. Since then, Lucia had been in Dovator's service. He had taught her about her powers, showed her how to control them. And now, after all this time, she would use them again to kill. But this time, there would be no trial. This time, she would not be branded a witch for using her powers – she would be fulfilling her duty as a servant of the God Emperor.

Lucia could see Kraken's grip tightening on the trigger. He had seen his opportunity and was going to take the shot. The psyker readied herself, knowing that she would only have a few seconds to kill the other cultists before they opened fire. There was a sharp crack as the weapon discharged, immediately followed by a hiss and the smell of burning flesh as the laser beam found its target. The cult leader's grip loosened as he staggered backward in shock, a hole burnt through his forehead. And then Lucia struck.

She reached out with her mind, letting it penetrate deep into the Warp, drawing upon the raw emotional energy it contained. Lucia knew the Warp was very unpredictable, and she could feel it now, changing like the wind, flowing around her. As a psyker, she was a shining beacon in the Immaterium, drawing all manner of malign entities to her. Lucia steeled herself, knowing that any one of these Emperor forsaken creatures could consume her vulnerable soul. She would be lost forever, her body nothing more than a host for the Great Enemy to use as it pleased. Already, she could feel them clawing at her mind, eager to claim her as a prize. She had to hurry.

Lucia focussed her thoughts, pulling the Warp energies toward her, bending them to her will. She could hear whispers now. The voices of countless billions of souls, some tormented, others the tormentors. They spoke directly to her, begging, taunting, confusing. Pushing passed the voices like Dovator had taught her, Lucia could see inside the cultists. She let her mind wander across their bodies, watching the energy she had gathered flow around them, puncturing organs, blocking arteries, severing tendons. It was all over before anyone could react. The cultists collapsed to the ground, writhing in pain as the life left their bodies. Kraken stared at them, shocked at what he was seeing. He had never before witnessed the destructive force of Lucia's powers. Slowly, he brought his focus back to the psyker standing before him, studying her intently with a mixture of horror and admiration.

"I thought you said it was too dangerous for you to use your powers?" Kraken asked, a grin slowly spreading across his face.

Lucia stared back at him, visibly shaken. "I had no choice," she snapped. "I couldn't let you – " She looked away from Kraken, forcing herself to remain calm.

The grin faded from the lieutenant's face. "Couldn't let me what?" he asked, confused by her sudden outburst.

"I couldn't let you have all the fun," the psyker replied quickly, forcing a smile. "Dovator's probably waiting for us. We should get back." She turned her back on Kraken and began to make her way through the ruins.

"Yeah," Kraken replied, shaking his head in disbelief.

Dovator stared at his screen, lost in thought. How could this have happened? He asked himself, knowing full well that Chaos and Heresy can not be explained. He remembered what he had been told years ago, when he had first joined the Ordo Malleus – the Daemonhunters. Heresy had been likened to a tree: it had to be destroyed leaf, branch, trunk, and root, or it would continue to grow and gain strength, until one day, it would become impossible to stop. The Inquisitor had always found that analogy interesting, but as he gained experience in battling the forces of Chaos, he realised that it was lacking. A ravenous disease was a better fit, eating away at the Imperium from within, corrupting those with power and preventing man from realising his full potential. Perhaps he, Alexi Dovator, would be the one to unlock the shackles binding humanity and turn the tide in this never ending war. Perhaps he would be the one to find a way to eradicate the Great Enemy once and for all and deliver the Imperium into a Golden Age.

The door chime sounded softly, bringing the Inquisitor back to reality. Careful, he warned himself, clearing his mind quickly. Too many good souls have been lost for dreaming the same dream, consumed by the manipulative gods of Chaos who whisper promise after promise and reward servitude with eternal damnation. The chime sounded again.

"Come in." The door slid open and Sara stepped into the room. She stopped just inside the door and bowed her head, looking down at her feet. Dovator stared at her, waiting for her to say or do something – anything – but she continued to stand motionless. Gradually, he began to realise that she would stand there until he told her to sit or speak. Despite his attempts to make her feel safe and free while under his care, she still behaved like a slave.

"Have a seat," Dovator gestured to a nearby chair.

"Thank you," she replied, finally making eye contact with him. She went to the chair and sat down slowly, careful not to damage any of the parchment wrapped around her body. Dovator studied her intently, realising for the first time how beautiful she was. Without the parchment and scars caused by purifying rituals, her skin would have been flawless. Her body was perfect, like something out of a dream. The Inquisitor found himself wondering what it would feel like to reach out and touch her. Perhaps he could do more than just touch. After all, she would do whatever he asked.

What the hell is wrong with you, Dovator reprimanded himself, disgusted at his loss of control. He had promised her protection for as long as he lived. What kind of man would it make him to use his power over her for something like that? He would be no better than the Inquisitor he had killed to save her. Almost immediately, his thoughts returned to the current problem: his home. How could this have happened? He asked himself again.

"What's wrong?" Sara asked, gathering the courage to speak unbidden.

Dovator was shocked. This was the first time she had spoken without having been asked a direct question. But even more surprising to him was that she knew something was bothering him. Perhaps their link allowed her to feel what he was feeling.

"Don't tell me you can sense the way I feel?" the Inquisitor asked, intrigued by the idea but more than a little worried given his recent lapse in focus.

"Oh, no," Sara replied, a warm smile spreading across her face. "Nothing like that. It's just that you –" She broke off. It had been a long time since she had been allowed to express her own thoughts. In fact, she had rarely been given the opportunity to speak at all in recent years. Inquisitor Braxxus had always said that witches should not be allowed to open their mouths. He had said that every word uttered by a witch was twisted and evil. So she had forced herself to remain silent while in his service, fearing that she would anger him. Finding the correct words to use now was proving to be more difficult than she imagined.

"I can see it in your eyes," she said at last, liking the sound of the words.

Dovator frowned. He was slipping. Years ago, his face would have been like a stone, hard and emotionless no matter what he was feeling inside. But now, he was being read like a book by this woman. The Inquisitor may have accepted being read by a trained psyker, or perhaps even an expert on human behaviour. But this woman was neither, and she had picked up on his feelings. No matter. At least now he had someone to talk to. But where to begin?

"Look at this," Dovator turned his screen so Sara could see it. She leaned forward intently, eager to learn what it was that was bothering the Inquisitor. After reading it twice, just as Dovator had done, she looked back to him.

"I'm so sorry," Sara said softly, knowing that nothing she said to comfort him would lessen the pain he was feeling. She sat silently for a moment and then, remembering that talking about her problems had always made her feel better, added: "Tell me about your world."

Dovator was pleased that she had asked. He leaned back in his chair and breathed deeply closing his eyes. At length, he began to speak.

"Gaea Prime is an agri-world," he said slowly, focussing his thoughts. "One large landmass covers roughly half the planet and the rest is the bluest ocean you'll ever see. I lived pretty far in land, so I've only seen it a few times myself, but it's a sight that I'll remember for a long time. Sunset is the best because then it sparkles like diamonds." Dovator allowed himself a smile before continuing.

"Most of the land is covered in crop fields, each tended to by a small village of a couple hundred people. There are a few larger cities here and there, but even there the population is only a few thousand. That's where all the self-proclaimed important people live: the governor, his advisors, representatives and every other pompous jackass who orders people around to prove that he's the single most important person on the planet.

"John Borglyn and me, we grew up together in one of the villages near the capitol. We were inseparable. Used to get into plenty of trouble. It was usually John's fault, though," the Inquisitor laughed. "I remember this one time, me and John were caught imitating the governor during one of his live planetary broadcasts. John had somehow ended up on the vid feed, strutting around with his nose in the air. He was wearing this really ugly, colourful suit, proclaiming himself governor of Gaea Prime. We were grounded for a few months for that one." Dovator laughed again as he relived the moment in his mind. It had been a long time since he had had reason to laugh. So much had happened since then, and most of it had taken the joy out of life.

Suddenly, Dovator was serious again. "We were in our twenties when we both decided to join the Guard. We went through basic training together with Gaea Prime's PDF, but then we kind of drifted apart. John was into the whole 'Duty and Honour' propaganda that was constantly being shoved down our throats. He dreamed of being out there on the front lines, a hero in the making. I took an interest in the more covert approach to fighting Chaos. I had heard stories about Inquisitors and the secret war they're constantly fighting to protect the Imperium from the threats inside and out. There's irony for you. A corrupt secret organization fighting to protect a corrupt empire from corruption."

The Inquisitor paused for a moment, remembering what he had gone through to achieve his title. Only the greatest men in the Imperium could rise to the ranks of Inquisitor. It was essential that the candidate be pure in spirit and unwavering in his dedication to the Imperial Creed. Any blemish, no matter how small, left the door wide open for the influences of Chaos. And yet, even with such a strict screening process and years of rigorous training and testing, many Inquisitors were manipulated by the Dark Gods, corrupted to the point where they ceased to be human. Often, several Inquisitors would share the same misguided beliefs and band together. As a result, several factions existed within the Inquisition. Some, like the Thorians, believed that only by resurrecting the Emperor would the Imperium be saved. Of course that also meant creating the perfect person as a host; a person of infallible character into whom the Emperor's soul could be reborn. It also meant manipulating the Warp, xeno technology, and anything else that was thought to have ties to psychic energy in an attempt to coax the Emperor's soul from the Immaterium and into the host body.

Others, such as the Monodominants, are arrogant enough to believe it is the manifest destiny of man to rule the galaxy. Any and all mutants, xeno, or "non-believers" should be stamped out like a plague. Any attempts to form alliances or trade agreements with other species was considered Heresy and punishable by death. Sometimes, whole planets were destroyed. "Preventative measures" to ensure any taint would not spread.

And still others embrace Chaos completely, believing they can use it's power for the betterment of the Imperium. These radicals operate in secret and if they are found out, the other, "puritan," factions declare them traitors and hunt them down. So many factions, but which was right? Dovator had asked himself the same question many times before, and always he had come to the same answer: none of them.

"We're entering orbit now," Weiss's voice, startled the Inquisitor from his thoughts. "I'm taking us down. Kraken had better be finished with that cult leader. I hate having to wait for him."

Dovator activated the comm on his end. "I'm sure we'll be waiting for him." Kraken had never been good at getting things done on time, but that never mattered to the Inquisitor. The fact that the man got things done at all was a miracle, given their dangerous line of work. "I'll meet you on the bridge in a few minutes."

The Inquisitor turned his eyes back to Sara, still seated across from him. She looked back at him, waiting to be told what to do. Dovator smiled and rose to his feet, gesturing toward the door. "After you," he said. And then, remembering her nakedness, added: "We should probably find you something to wear first."

Kraken and Lucia had been walking in silence since they had disposed of the cult leader and his followers. She was ahead of him, walking quickly, and he knew better than to try talking to her. She was clearly upset, and Kraken was terrible at handling such delicate situations. He kept as close as possible, scanning the surrounding area for any signs of danger, but did his best to give her space.

The veteran let his mind wander back to Lucia's impressive display earlier. As much as he respected her for her abilities, actually seeing them put to use scared him. Kraken knew he was just being foolish – she was the same woman she was yesterday. Yet at the same time, she was different and most certainly dangerous. But what bothered him more than her powers was her behaviour afterward. Perhaps she was just upset at having to use them to cause so much pain and death. Somehow Kraken doubted that. There was something more. The way she spoke to him, it almost seemed as if she was worried. As if she cared for him. The former Lieutenant dismissed the thought immediately. I should be so lucky, he said to himself. A woman like that? Not a chance.

Physically, Lucia wasn't much to look at. But she had a smile that could melt even the coldest heart, and a personality to match. From the very first day he had met her, Kraken had took a liking to her and had done his best to keep her out of harms way. Maybe that's it, the veteran thought. That's what's changed. She just proved that she can take care of herself a lot better than I can.

Rounding the corner, Kraken could see Dovator's ship. As he got closer, he could see the Inquisitor leaning against the hull lost in thought. Weiss was standing on the ramp, talking to a robed woman he did not recognize. "Who'd you shoot?" Kraken called out to Dovator as he got closer, gesturing toward Sara. He could tell from her appearance that she had been a slave until recently and, given the Inquisitor's knack for putting himself in harm's way, the question was warranted.

"High Inquisitor Braxxus," Dovator replied without looking up.

"A High Inquisitor?" Kraken whistled. "Raising the stakes, huh? Keep it up and you'll be in shit so deep not even the Emperor Himself could dig you out."

"You think I don't know that?" Dovator snapped. He opened his mouth to say more but decided against it. Shaking his head, he turned and stormed off into the ship.

Kraken was dumbstruck. He and the Inqusitor always had light hearted exchanges after either of them had done something foolish. Never, in all the time Kraken had known him, had Dovator exploded like this, even when the repercussions for his actions were severe.

"What's got him all worked up?" Kraken asked, still puzzled by the sudden outburst.

"His home world," Sara replied, her voice almost a whisper. She glanced up the ramp uneasily before continuing. "It's been tainted by the Great Enemy."

The other three couldn't believe their ears. Lucia and Weiss stared blankly at Sara, stunned to silence. "Shit," was all Kraken could manage.

"Of all places," he muttered once the initial shock had passed. He shook his head in disbelief. "Dovator doesn't deserve this." Then, with a determined look in his eyes, the veteran said, "We'd better get going. We've got a world to save."