Atellus nervously stalked his way through the bunker, making for the room he had been ordered to meet his new employer, Inquisitor Xersus in. There was a number of reasons as to why he was nervous. First and foremost, was that he was meeting an Inquisitor personally. He remembered, a number of years back, when an independent team of Inquisitorial acolytes rode aboard [i]The Baleful Beacon[/i] to be dropped off at some hive world or another as a favor to a friend of the Captain's. A number of his fellow crew mates did their best to avoid the acolytes, lest they be charged with some sort of heresy, and now here he was going to meet an actual Inquisitor. The artillery fire didn't help much at all, either, and he did his best to liken both the shaking and the sounds to the firing of a macrocannon, though it didn't work very well, as he still felt as if there were insects crawling around in his stomach.

A small part of Atellus wished to delay the meeting a little, so that he could calm his nerves, but another part of him told him that keeping an Inquisitor waiting was probably not the best idea. As he approached the door to the designated room, Atellus very quickly double checked that all his gear was on him. His lasrifle was slung over his shoulder by a strap, his baton was by his side in a small holster, and his keepsake knife was strapped to his right thigh. He quickly adjusted one of his gauntlets, and knocked on the top of his helmet, more for good luck than any kind of equipment check, and took a deep breathe before entering the room.

Stepping inside, Atellus quickly surveyed the room, noting that it was somewhat similar to the bridge of [i]The Baleful Beacon[/i], albeit, much less flashy and without a view to the void beyond. There were two other men already in the room, one was rather obviously the Inquisitor, dressed in power armor, with the 'I' of the Inquisition emblazoned upon it. The other, he judged to be a psyker, not only by the subtle feeling of strangeness that all psykers gave off, but also by his robes and the staff the man carried.

Atellus was a little unsure of what to do, and so went with what was familiar, stepping besides the door, he unslung the rifle from his shoulders and cradled it in his hands, assuming a guard position, standing still and straight, likening the room to the bridge of a ship, and the door as his post.