Facing out across the endless, vast and open expanse of space through the windows of the room was the ashen haired woman, Adrianne.

She sat on her legs in complete quiet, with her arms formed in a cross across her chest. In front of her, lying on the cold, brown and gray metal plates that made out the floor was her long and curved power sword, still in its sheath which looked reminiscent of a staff in appearance. Next to her sword was her gothic styled winged helmet, facing out towards the darkness of space as well.

The psyker was already wearing her space battle trappings, a dark brown jumpsuit beneath a series of plates, gloves and heavy boots adorned with imperial symbolic runes and patterns, and a refractor field generator that ran down her back, shaped like a human skeletal spine made out of black metal.

Her mind was empty, and her pulse was low. She was in a meditative trance, a habit she had taken up while traveling the warp.

Through draining herself of all thought, and almost even her own consciousness, she did no longer hear the seething and hateful whispers that otherwise were so loud when close to the warp. Her pulse was barely still going, and her breath soundless. It was a method she had picked up from another psyker on her travels, and had made warp travel; a usually very uncomfortable experience for someone of her arcane sensitivity; to a much more bearable, albeit perhaps boring experience. In fact, it now provided her with a peace of mind that she rarely ever found when on a mission or duty, making warp travels a somewhat relaxing experience, a complete opposite of what it had been for her before. In her medition, all her worries, fears and anxiety were absolved by a stoic discipline, making her medition almost feel like a comfortable, lucid sleep.

A low series of pings suddenly became audible in the room. Hovering in the air next to her, lurking in the darkness of the corner was a floating servo skull, a red light flashing ever so weakly next to its dark eye sockets.

"Notification: warp travel complete. Mission briefing scheduled to start in minus two minutes." A mechanical voice was emitted from the skull's vox box as it gazed emptily at Adrianna.

The psyker's eyes finally opened, revealing two purple irises. A faint wave of psychic energies passed over them, before she made her first facial motion; as if she had just recovered from a deep slumber.

Standing back up onto her feet without a word, she would hold out her arm in front of her. Her sword, lying on the ground in front of her, would suddenly begin to levitate and hover up into her hand, before she gripped around it and rotated it around to hold the sword's large sheath as a staff, planting the bottom of it into the ground.
Her helmet would also move, floating up to her waist before attaching itself to her belt behind her hip.

The part of the inquisitorial ship that she found herself in was remarkably quiet and abandoned, its elaborate rooms and hallways poorly lit and usually desolate of other people. That, alongside the windows looking out into the vastness of space was the reason she had chosen that part of the ship.
Aside from the ever so persistent low hum of the engines, there was no other sounds in that section of the ship, short of the occasional lone servitor that trundled along to do its work in silence. It was almost reminiscent of a ghost ship.

Walking through the hallways that were littered with tubes and cables along the walls and floors, some of which were hard to see in the poor lighting, she would head towards the briefing room.

The inquisitor's ship was by no means a small vessel. Was there ever a stereotype that seemed to persist through the millenniums about imperial officials and high servants, then it was their love for big ships. 

Arriving at the briefing room, Adrianna eyes would immediately move to the Inquisitor, Zhevon, and his favorite lackey, trooper Gregor, as well as Ben standing somewhere in the back. The former stood together, their joyous banter which could be heard before she had even entered the room, let alone foresee them. Zhevon's jovial demeanor was quite different from that she had come to expect from an inquisitor, with what little interference she had had with other inquisitors suggesting a cold, calculative, arrogant and almost power-crazy behavior. Indeed, inquisitors were viewed with both fear and distrust by most, while being more than happy to view the masses with distrust and suspicion in turn. The fact that some inquisitors even possessed the imperial authority to call down the extermination of entire planets was enough to make someone cautious in their presence at best! Zhevon's apparent cheerful attitude did not do much to comfort Adrianne either. When a powerful, possible megalomaniac with a power complex seemed particularly happy, it could either be nothing, or a really, really bad thing!

Meeting any gaze from either Gregor and Zhevon with a stoical, empty expression, Adrianna would give them a subtle nod to acknowledge their attention.

"You summoned me, Inquisitor?" She would say with a disaffected voice, her gaze trailing between Gregor and Zhevon.