None knew anything of this mental discussion that occurred within Erina's mind, and those that watched her only saw a young girl strapped to a bed. The many monitors that outlined her health all that lit up the dark of the room. They had been in the warp for nearly an entire hour, at least eight was expected to remain in the trip. Watchful eyes over the girl in case she sprung up, possessed or insane. Thankfully for Eli, she had shown no such signs.

The Apothecary had made true to his word after all. A small group of Stormtroopers stood along the wall besides her, their hotshot lasguns held to their chest, but easily aimed and fired at her should they be requested. Their presence made Eli nervous, but Emile managed to calm him down. So far, the girl was alive and as far as he saw, she was yet a faithful member of the Imperium.

Emile held onto his shoulder. He was surprised by the girl's seemingly calm demeanor, even if she were unconscious, something that was strange to him. Suspiciously so. He had seen trained psykers of the adeptus telepathica, fall to insanity in but moments after entering the warp, yet this girl who had no formal training simply slept soundly. A single jolt earlier, a pained look on her face as she seemed to fear something, and then… contention. He did not know what to think of it, but he knew Eli was pleased by it. Of course he would be, as it only helped to reaffirm him of his duty. For now, that was enough, and if the girl was possessed her body would have long been ripped apart unable to contain the fowl creatures essence. Still, he would not rout out possibility.

He stood from where he sat, as Eli quickly made a turn to face him.

"What is it Emile?"

Emile looked out at the Stormtroopers who stood silently as statues. The lack of glare on their masks all but indicative of their stoic readiness as they peered at the girl from the corner of their helmets. If it came to it, Eli would be able to fulfill his duty and put her down, but the Stormtroopers ensured him that he could at least leave for now. He had some things he needed to discuss with one of the spare Psykers on the command deck.

"I am going to take care of something. I will return as soon as that is accomplished."

Eli only gave a silent nod as his helmet moved up and then down, no hint at the expression beneath the mask.

"Very well."

At that, Emile made his way outside of the apothicarium, and began the long trek through the ships tight corridors to the command deck. When he and Eli were first welcomed aboard, he had made it a point to traverse the entire ship and memorize its layout. It was vital he was able to make it anywhere on the ship as quickly as possible, lest there be an emergency which require his attention. Thankfully nothing was ever so immediate as to force himself to rush to any location, but this time it would serve him well.

It had taken almost an hour, a time that was easily one hour or two quicker than most of the crew would be able. Of course, as he made his way past them they all moved out of his way, bowed, and even prayed. It was only different once he entered into the command deck, where those who were stationed around the many computers that connected systems around the ship sat. Their attention was too vital for them to turn to face him, and they knew it well. For this reason, Emile always found himself more at ease when in this room of the ship. Even if it was small, at only a hundred feet long and equally as deep.

Still, he had expected to see Viola on her chair stationed at the very back of the room, where a massive screen was set just above in front of it. The Chair itself made of a black steel, twisted so that it curved into a vine for the back. Red upholstered leather strapped to the chair as cushioning, and armrests made of another metal that jutted down into two servo skulls strapped into its mechanisms.

The Tech-priest of the vessel, Verdun, stood ahead of the chair as they overlooked the many crewmen that worked at their stations. The large screen at the far back of the room bright with images of the outsides of the ship.

The Techpriest only turned his head to see Emile before he looked back.

"Ah, Space Marine Emile. What brings you here?"

Emile stepped further into the room so that he was a reasonable distance from the techpriests servo arms. He was always unsettled by his inhuman presence.

"I came to speak with an Astropath."

Verdun clicked several times as gears twisted from underneath his coat.

"Why? Do you doubt our course?"

Emile shook his head.

"No. But I have my reasons."

Verdun moved a hand to a servo skull as it passed and pressed his hand onto it. The wires within connected as data moved into it. Within a few moments he was done, and then let it go.

"Reasons beyond discussing with me? Trust me, I can help you learn the odds."

Emile looked back at Violas chair. Verdun noticed this and gave a quick response to what he calculated was the most likely question.

"If you wish to know where Viola is, she is currently copulating within her private quarters with the High Lord of the Knight House."

Emile closed his eyes for a moment. This was unnecessary information.

"Verdun, I simply wish to see an Astropath. Is this able to be done?"

Verdun grew agitated with his insistence.

"Fine. I will have a servo skull fetch one of the spares."

Emile knew of Verduns distaste, but he refused to let it bother him. He would do as he asked.

"Thank you."

From underneath Verduns red hood, he pulled a Servo Skull from the cage he had installed just besides what remained of his ribs. Where he carried all of the servo skulls he maintained. His personal stock, as it were. He brought it to his face and gave a small prayer of awakening as the visor over the skulls right eye flashed to life. He gave it its orders, and with that the Skull flew away, the long metal tube of connection wires dangled below it.

It was a simple task to send servo skulls to do what was required of them. In Verdun's mind, they were more reliable than most who had flesh. As with all machines he held reverence for them, but his personal stock were more special. He had made them entirely by himself, of people whom he had grown close with and died in battle. A practice not entirely looked highly upon by others in the Mechanicum. It was deemed an honor to be transcended into the floating skulls, but those Verdun had chosen would likely have been deemed unworthy of the charge. Still, Verdun knew well that all techpriests sought to explore, satiate their curiosity and progressive desires. So long as they were not found out by those within the upper Mechanicum, or those whom they have made ill with, they would be left to do so. Especially Inquisitors who knew full and well the practicality of progression, the good it could bring to the Imperium. Still, tradition was tradition, and he would not defy the whims of the Omnisiah, only those who dared interpret his words to stifle its people. Regardless, it wasn't uncommon for Tech-Priests to also use what was available to them when they could not find proper materials. Even if that had meant using the skulls of…

What had Verdun thought of them? Simple voidsman, many of whom were statistically destined to die aboard this vessel with an 87% certainty on a daily basis. Much lower than the average 95% of the more important crew. Still. They had fought to defend him from a genestealer incursion aboard a derelict vessel Inquisitor Viola ordered him to scavenge. They were part of his guard, but unlike many who looked upon his form, treated him with a kindness most did not display. Certainly reverence was held by them for him, and it disappointed the emotional side of his brain that they could have been adepts under the Mechanicums thrall. It was not to be, and he spent more than a year trapped aboard the vessel as he sought out the remains of an STC said to be of upmost importance. What it was, was a lie, designed by the genestealers to lure in a ship to attack. To infest. Verdun should have calculated such an outcome sooner, but he did not, blinded by his desire of an untouched STC. The Ship was summarily cleansed after his discovery of course, but before his extraction, he gathered the bodies of his guard and removed their skulls. Was it sentimentality that drove his decision? There was little logic in his decision, though he could justify the allocation of resources so that they would not be wasted, it was not till after that he processed such. Either way, his Servo skulls were important to him. Perhaps it would be good to allocate a small part of his consciousness to ponder such as he maintained command of the vessel. He had little time to debate such problems at the moment.

He turned to see that Emile, the space marine, had not moved. The plight his guest could not understand through his mind as he stared. It was of little matter. He could stand there till death if he chose, but the order was sent and what he requested would arrive soon enough. So Verdun looked back to his empty gaze over the command deck, his many auspex checking every station and every person within, his mind resumed to its current task. Unaware of what the Servo Skull he sent would begin.

As a Servo Skull, which are often ignored by the many crewman of the ship, it lived a simple existence. Such was to accomplish the tasks given to it by its master, and all else was but nonexistent. So it was uneventful then, that the Skull made it to the Psykers quarters within the center of the ship that housed the spare members of the Astropaths. Sealed behind several layers of steel doors, they were kept within what was more akin to a prison with rooms barely similar to the other crewmen. The psychic energy dampened by the thousands of seals built into the sanctums very structure. Added explosives and flame hoses around the walls in case of possession to purge the entire section within moments. As the skull passed the last door, the small group of five looked to see it. They were weary, as all psykers were when within a warp jump. Their minds constantly held at the brink of insanity, not that the Servo Skull cared or understood.

The Skull floated over the group and all but one looked at it in horror. It was not often that any of them were called outside of their quarters, unless of course they were being summoned to replace one of the current astropaths who had died in one of the positions allowed to Psykers. Usually from mental exhaustion or even starvation. The Skull did nothing else however, but float above them, and they knew they had to decide who would go back with it to follow whatever task was given to them. So the group looked at one another, and the usual grumble began.

The eldest and the wisest of the group, a man named Ceres, stood. He had been summoned before and returned unscathed many times, and so he would go. The other psykers were comparatively of less quality than himself and he knew it, though as the little company he had for the majority of his time, they had a place within his sympathies. Most astropaths were given proper training, as he was in the ways of Ordo Atronomica, but these were hardly instructed. This, he knew direly angered the Inquisitor of this ship, and in her rage had killed seven of them to reduce their number upon arrival. He imagined the governor who requisitioned them for her was summarily executed, but he knew well enough not to pry into the minds of the others aboard the ship. So he took on the role of teacher to prepare the others for any task that would be asked of them, a mercy. To ensure that they would not die quickly within their duties and live wholly wasted lives for the Emperor.

"I will go. As always, if I do not return, all of you are expected to fulfill the duties asked of you. Maintain what I have taught you."

The other Psykers only nodded in recognition, and watched as Ceres followed the Servo Skull outside and back into the main hull of the ship where two Stormtroopers waited. Their weapons held tight against their chests, a finger on the trigger and their glaring masks all the indication Ceres needed to understand that they were frightened of him. These were things they would never allow to occur in any other situation, as they were trained well enough to understand that their las-weapons could cause severe damage to the interiors of the ship if they accidentally pulled the trigger. They held it to tightly to their bodies to be able to freely move it on a moment's notice, the glare of their helmets invocative of their gaze not ahead but at him solely as in the light they walked under, had they stared ahead it should have been in shadow.

Most other humans were terrified of Psykers granted, but the Stormtroopers were more weapon than human within the bowls of their minds. The hellish training undergone by them within the Schola terrifying to gaze upon, but it certainly hardened their minds to a fine point. Still, despite all they had gone through, the horrors they saw, Psykers were among the few things that could instill fear within them. For they were able to see deep within the mind, and though many Stormtroopers could not acknowledge consciously, they were terrified of their own existences as nothing but walking weapons who have lost the ability to live as human. Something even the Noble Space Marines grasped. They were but mere husks, their souls long beaten away and eroded into subservience. If they had been of the commissariat, perhaps some figment of their personality, their spark, would still exist. Mayhap, even it would be able to grow anew, but these men around Ceres were nothing but empty husks, little more than deadly servitors programmed through years of torture and instruction.

Ceres smiled. He enjoyed being around such 'people'. They reminded him that despite his own status as an abhuman, a dreaded Psyker, even he was greater. He was more human than others around him. He could still stride as an individual, maintain a unique spirit, be human and feel human urges. It was good to be out and among them.

So they walked, all the way through the many halls and rooms into the command deck. The Servo Skull always ahead of him, and the two Stormtroopers besides him. The crew who saw them stepped to the side until they passed, many thoughts within their minds as they did so. It was all boringly brief and quickly enough they turned back to their own tasks. Otherwise it was an uneventful trip, the scenery around him dark and grim, but welcome to one who had not seen it in nearly three years.

Upon entry to the command deck, the two Stormtroopers stepped away to the side of the door, weapons still held tight. The others did not seem to care of his presence, save the techpriest and the Space Marine who stood on the upper platform of the room. Strangely there was not the Inquisitor in her chair as he had come to expect.

Ceres walked carefully towards the techpriest, who picked up his servo skull and hid it within his robes, without so much as a glance towards it.

"I am Ceres my lords. You summoned me?"

Verdun clicked several times as his neck moved so that he could face him, his body still in place.

"Yes. You were requisitioned at the request of this Space Marine. You will accomplish whatever task he has of you and then he will return you to the sanctum."

Ceres bowed, as was customary.

"Of course sir."

Though he could feel the Space Marines mind, he dared not tread. Though he was curious, he could not deny, to see what was within the mind of such a rare human. One of the few who were not scared of seeing or interacting with Psykers. It was soon to pass thankfully. Ceres preferred not to die because of a foolish decision.

The Space Marine stepped forward.

"I am Emile, of the Oathmarines. Come with me, I have a task for you."

So he did, and in silence Ceres and Emile traveled through the other side of the command deck and into another section of the ship. But as they moved along, Ceres felt something strange. A presence, something different than the warp, but clearly… something.

He stopped in place, within the middle of an empty corridor.

"There is something here, Space Marine."

Emile immediately turned towards him and pulled the bolter he magnetized to the side of his armor. Though it was not wise to use such heavy ordinance within the bowls of a ship, he had to be sure to put down anything immediately. He watched Ceres closely, who held a hand to his forehead. He could only hope he would not say it was within the apothecarium. If so, perhaps it would have been better to have stayed.

"Where?"

Ceres focused hard on what he felt. It was something he had never encountered before. It was not the foul forces of the warp. It couldn't be. This force felt… it felt like a blank. But even that was wrong. A Blank would have induced his mind to revolt its presence, but this one, it seemed to be a blip that merely existed; no harmful intent, no malicious desire, no outward projection, and a connection that held but did not at the same time. As if it only skimmed along and swam untouched by the warp forces that surrounded them, its presence only felt because of its lack of presence within.

Ceres flinched as he stressed his powers further, something dangerous when attempted under warp travel, but whatever this was. He fell forward and on his knee as his head pulsed with a throbbing pain. The Space Marine stormed before him, his bolter aimed at him, surely in the case he was possessed.

Ceres looked up, tired and his breathing heavy.

"I located it my lord. It is within the…"

He coughed as blood spurted out of his mouth onto the metal floor. Emile held one of his hands on his shoulder as it weighed him down.

"Where?"

Ceres steeled his resolve and stood. He wiped away at the blood that slid down his mouth, returning to his straight posture.

"It is… within the nearest docking bay… my lord."

Emile searched his mind for the quickest path to the docking bay. Once it was secured, he turned towards the doorway which would led him on his path. He pulled the astropath with him as he flung him over his shoulder, much to the surprise of Ceres, and began to run. The heavy clang of his footsteps smashed along the metal floors as he went and all the crew turned to see him only saw a blur. Even still, it alarmed him enough that word spread and soon Verdun patched a vox transmission into his helmet.

"Emile, I have received word of your unusual behavior. What has happened?"

"The Astropath managed to locate something within the nearest docking bay, 04 in the north western sector. Send Stormtroopers for immediate action there and seal off all doors."

Verdun clicked for several moments before red lights began to flash all across the ship. He had officially brought the ship into lockdown, and all of the seal doors began to shut off every corridor. Emile was quick enough to make it past before they shut, and it was not long until he reached the docking bay, completely devoid of any crewmen. The red lights flashed brightly above them and a blaring alarm rang through the cavernous halls.

Emile dropped Ceres onto the floor who vomited from the trip.

"Was it necessary to…"

Emile only nodded, his bolter now firmly held with both of his hands.

"Yes. I needed you here to help me locate this presence. One cannot be safe enough in a warp incursion."

Ceres shook his head.

"My lord… it isn't from the warp. I know not what it's from…"

Emile looked at him, genuinely surprised at his statement. Was he mad? That couldn't be—

He held up his bolter and fired ahead of him at the spot where a cloaked figure once stood. They were quick enough to dodge the round as they landed several feet away from the blast. The floor busted and ripped where the bolter round exploded.

Emile took no time to continue his assault on the figure as they dotted around the room. He was accurate and every shot hit their intended place, but this figure was far quicker than he was. This was indicative of just how big the threat he had to face was. Few things could out-speed a Space Marine, and such targets had to be dealt with quickly. But such missions usually employed the power of a five man squad, and he was only one. He would have to be tactical.

He fired again, but the figure still managed to dodge as the round hit a pile of crates which promptly exploded. Emile knew he had to maintain his fire to keep such opponents at bay, on the defensive so as to minimize their threat level. This is when another brother would close the distance and surprise them with an assault. Quick enemies usually relied upon their speed to be dangerous, and so rarely had heavy armor. Once surprised they would fall quickly to a precision strike. He could not do both of these at the same time however, so he would have to follow the other protocol.

He strafed left and pushed the figure back towards the corner of the room with shots on either side of it so as to limit the direction they could dodge in his favor. He had to get it close enough to the corner of the room so it would be forced to either charge him or be shot. Once it charged him, he would quickly switch to his combat knife and finish it off as it reached him. A risky maneuver, but one he had to take.

Ceres would not stand idly by either, and managed to stand. He felt the figures presence intensely, and as he brought his powers to bear, he glimpsed something. The figure was connected to someone aboard the ship. A girl. A Psyker, or at least, was once.

The figure noticed the transgression upon the mind, and a single knife was thrown from underneath the black cloak it wore as it shot towards Ceres. It was fast and propelled with enough force it would have ripped through Ceres body, but he managed to pull up a psychic barrier in time that slowed it enough that it stuck into his right shoulder instead.

Emile noticed this event, but could not turn to help the astropath. He could not turn his back on such an opponent. So he continued with his plan as the figure slowly but surely was pushed back into the far corner of the room. Emile reloaded nearly four times, the last of his spare clips strapped to his side. Another knife flew from it, and Emile managed to jut to the side to avoid the brunt of it, only for the knife to slam into the last cartridge of ammunition he had and spill the shells onto the floor.

This figure was smart, and he knew that it waited for him to run out of ammunition. So he would have to use that to his advantage. The figure stood in the corner of the room and Emile pressed forward, his bolter alight with more rounds as he pressed towards them. Then he stopped, for only a moment and pulled up on the bolter to act as if he was out of rounds. Predictably, the figure ran forward for the charge. At the last moment, Emile dropped his bolter and he reached his combat knife. With the figures speed, it would not be able to slow down quickly enough to move out of the way of his blade. It would instead propel itself into it. So Emile held his Knife forward as the figure neared him, only to suddenly disappear in the blink of an eye through a dark portal.

Emile held his knife firmly as he looked around. So it had tricks in its arsenal.

The figure then reemerged in the center of the room and looked at him.

"Well, seems I've bled you dry of your ammunition, Space Marine."

The voice was all but human it appeared to Emile. Still, it was not easy to pull of such trickery, and the speed at which it moved was all but impossible for an average human. Perhaps Eldar. He had spoken once with such xeno before, and he knew they always had a scheme in motion. But they could at the very least be reasoned with.

"Are you an Eldar?"

The figure shook its head as the cloak swayed side to side.

"Those arrogant fools? No. I'm something else entirely. But trust me, I will not seek to use you as an Eldar would. I am not like them. I am… something else."

Emile looked at the astropath behind him who had collapsed from exhaustion.

He turned back at the figure. He had to stall for reinforcements it seemed.

"What are you then?"

The figure sighed.

"You don't need to know. Just trust that I have all of your best interests in mind."

Emile would not simply believe this, not without proof.

"Then give me a reason to believe you. Why are you aboard this ship? Why is it that the astropath say you aren't of the warp?"

The figure stepped backwards.

"Simple really. I'm not from the warp, and trust me, it's easier than you'd think boarding a vessel this large."

Emile stepped forward, knife still in hand.

"You have to provide more."

The figure stepped back again.

"Perhaps another time. It seems your stop is here."

The entire ship shook for all but a moment as the dreary atmosphere that once covered it faded. The Astropath managed to wake as he pushed himself up from the ground, shaky and exhausted.

"W-Were out of the warp… We've returned to real space!"

Emile's attention was pulled to him for all but a second. A second too much to react as he returned his gaze to see the figure step into another dark portal. Only to completely disappear moments later. Emile took a deep breath, sheathing his blade. Whatever that figure was, he needed to find out. Immediately.

Such would be a long time coming however, as there was soon high alert along the bridge as Verdun slammed his hand onto a nearby podium. Their warp jump had been cut short, and the ship was ejected nearly seventy minutes too early. None of the other ships had arrived either, and Verdun had calculated all of the viable outcomes that had occurred within his mental processing. It was at the most, a 99% likely that they were ejected off course in a different section of the Imperium. Given how close they were to their original course, it was calculated to be within the same system at the very least, but such had to be dealt with immediately. Lest the Inquisitor have his head.

He held up a hand.

"Immediate protocols are required! Have all available Astropaths begin contacting the other ships and locating our current position. Also…"

One of the voidsman that was positioned on the command deck, a young man named Ervin, a replacement in case one of the other officers were killed during combat, stood meekly before Verdun. He was simply caught unaware as he tried to find something to do in the mess of a situation the Command Deck was in. Verdun pointed a servo arm at him, which he noticed all too quickly as he cowered back, a bow made before him.

"Go wake the Inquisitor. Immediately!"

The young man swallowed, sweat heavy on his brow as he heard those words.

"B-but L-Lord Techpriest, she had ordered that she was not to be disturbed."

Verdun would have groaned if he still held the physical capability. This young man had seriously caused an infraction against a Techpriest by denying his words. He would be sure to alert the Inquisitor of this, if she didn't kill him for interrupting her sleep.

"Do not deny the words of the acting command of this vessel again. Otherwise, I will have you report to become a servitor by the end of the next imperial cycle."

Thus Ervin got the message and did not respond again, as he started to run in the direction of the Inquisitors quarters, past the mess of voidsmen that filled the halls. He had only hoped he would survive till the end of the day.

Verdun needed to have more direct info of the ships heading, and so he began to move along the Command Deck to the front where Captain Vince sat as he barked orders. It was also clear that he was about ready to break down, such a weakness held by the many unmodified around Verdun. He had the ability to deny such emotions lest the situation require it, unlike them.

Vince gripped his chair tightly so as to prevent it from shaking. He was always terrified of the Inquisitor, as he figured he should, and he had never failed her. Still, she was always hard on him, and whether she simply liked to tease him or otherwise, he was not sure, but he found himself mortified by what had just transpired. Never had such a thing occurred to him in all his service as a Captain, and he was proud of it. But now, hell, what would the Inquisitor think? He was the first to blame. He had to find a scapegoat. Something…

He almost didn't notice as Verdun strode alongside his chair, and held a servo arm to his face.

"Captain, it seems we have found ourselves in quite the predicament."

Vince tried to maintain a cool posture, but found himself strained to speak without stutter.

"Y…yes, it… it seems so."

Verdun had little time to play around this man's ego, and with luck he would recover his mental state within five minutes at a success rate pf 65%, otherwise perhaps he would have to ask the Inquisitor for another captain. Though the captain's record was almost entirely pure, and Verdun suspected that he had little hand in the ships troubles. He would still need to calm him as he could not do so as would his servitors. Besides, he would still prove useful so long as his mental fortitude was adequate.

"Do not allow your weak emotions to sway you. This was not your fault, Captain, and there is a high probability that something dragged us out of the warp purposefully."

Vince took a deep breath. A quick prayer to the emperor for his luck.

"Ah, thank you, Verdun. I was worried for a second, that the Inquisitor— wait, did you say pulled out of the warp? How could that bloody happen?"

Verduns auspex opened and closed in their timely cleansing cycle, as he turned away.

"Be sure to have this ship back in order within twenty minutes captain. Do not ponder anything else."

Vince swallowed as he stood. He understood the TechPriests words clearly.

"All you magots! Get to your fecking chairs, and straighten up this ship or damn you I will put a hole in your skulls personally!"