Basil silently walked behind the Inquisitor down the corridor, with his Master steadily plopping his force staff upon the deck every couple of steps. The two had stopped just long enough for him to don a black tunic and black pants that were similar to those of the Inquisitor before heading toward the hangar bay of the Veiled Strike. Basil glanced around as he walked, looking for 'landmarks' to help keep track of his location as an Inquisitorial cruiser was kilometres long, a vessel of massive dimensions, and easy to get lost within.

The corridor was clean with white bulkheads and the black deck appeared newly scrubbed. It was well-lit from the lights overhead, all of the fixtures functioning. And he found his first useful landmark. The left bulkhead was periodically marked with three sets of numbers within a blue rectangle. Basil quickly determined the first set was the deck number and the last was some sort of counter related to the port side. That meant the middle set was related to distance along the length of the ship. Doesn't help much, he decided. But every little bit helps.

A single-file line of soldiers approached from down the corridor in front of him, the sounds of their boots striking the deck in unison growing louder. Soldiers in carapace armour and helms with raised visors. New lasrifles rested on their shoulders. Storm Troopers, Basil quickly realized. Where are their regimental markings? The answer quickly dawned upon him. They are bonded to the Inquisition like me. No home world to claim with pride like the Rus 105th did. They just serve. Face after face passed by. Mostly young, though none were as young as he, then an older Trooper with Sergeant's stripes, then more young faces.

Matthias turned right as they entered a four-way intersection and Basil followed. They immediately came upon an enormous open portal with a sign displayed above it.

Port Landing Bay

Without slowing or breaking stride, the Inquisitor marched through the opening and into the bay. Basil's eyes widened and he gasped at the enormity of it. The ceiling arched high overhead. Landing craft as well as star fighters were parked in an orderly fashion down the length of the bay. Countless technicians scurried about, but one individual stood out from the others and Matthias marched straight toward him.

The figure of an absolutely colossal man.

The man's back was to Basil and he was dressed in white pants with a white tunic and his body was topped by an enormous bald head. Though most humans of such height, easily over two metres, would appear awkward and have poor proportions, he was thick and lean, all muscle. But he was not to be counted among the masses of Humanity. An enormous bolt pistol was strapped on the man's right hip and hanging on his back was a most curious device. It appeared to be a combination of a large drill and short chainsword.

A Space Marine, Basil realized in awe. A bio-engineered super warrior. One of the Emperor's Angels of Death. What chapter is he from?

In a few strides Basil and the Inquisitor had reached the Space Marine and moved into place on his right side. Basil wanted to walk a circle around the Marine to fully look him over but quickly decided it would be a bad idea.

"Down here waiting for your two brothers?" Matthias asked aloud. "Even with all the projects you are in the middle of?"

"No Apothecary project is more important than this," the Space Marine said over his shoulder, his deep voice filling the air. "Attalus and Ansgar are the only brothers I have left. With the three of us together, we will rebuild the Void Spectres." His voice trembled as he spoke, an odd sound to come from words spoken in such a dep voice.

Apothecary? Is this the guy who kept me in a coma? Basil asked himself.

"I understand your pain, Apothecary Fynn," Matthias said.

"You understand?" the Apothecary snapped as he turned to face the Inquisitor. "You know nothing." The Marine's turning revealed fierce grey eyes which bored into the Inquisitor.

"You three were part of the First Company conceived from and trained by the Exorcists," Matthias answered. "I personally conducted the full rites of initiation for each of that company to become a neophyte. For each of you three and for every brother you lost from that Company." He paused and Basil could see the Inquisitor was deep in thought. "That is a connection we share and a loss we share. It is not trivial."

"My apologies, Inquisitor Matthias," answered the Space Marine. "You have done much for us and have promised to do more." The giant stared at the Inquisitor. "Have you spoken to the Provost about handing over psykers to us to train as neophytes?" he asked.

"Yes," Matthias answered in a solemn tone which Basil guessed meant bad news. "I mentioned the destruction of the Psyker Squad and asked to remove selections from the levy to replace them and she declined. She said that with the Black Ships scheduled to return in a few years, she could not spare any."

"Let me speak with the Provost," Apothecary Fynn said with a snarl. "She will change her mind."

I'd like to see that, Basil thought with a smile.

"She is working closely with the Adeptus Mechanicus, working to persuade them to build new features into the choir chambers for the Astropaths on Abalus," Matthias answered. "Even after the destruction of Moyere, their anger has not subsided and the Adeptus Astra Telepathica will not risk losing their support."

"We couldn't give it to them," Fynn answered in anger, his voice raising. "Their claim to technological artefacts notwithstanding, we couldn't give to them what we found in War Boss Ulthric's trove of artefacts. The Seers knew that doing so would bring catastrophe…" Fynn paused, and his gaze shifted to Basil for an instant then back to Matthias. The Inquisitor nodded in affirmation. "Catastrophe to the Thulean Sector, as well as the whole Abalatian Reach, with incursions from Chaos."

"It was the right call," Matthias answered. "You were barely two companies to begin with and crushing the ork horde left you dangerously weakened. Still, you held to your duty. Held to your duty even though the Mechanicus destroyed what was left of you. But they didn't get the artefact. Your brothers destroyed it."

"Emperor damn them!" the Apothecary snapped. Rage filled his grey eyes, but he said nothing else.

Matthias' eyes glanced past the Apothecary, down the bay, and Basil's eyes quickly followed. Fynn whipped around too.

Three figures approached. A man in grey led the way, followed on either side by two giants in black power armour, two more Space Marines.