Sister Dominicia did not take naturally to space travel. She was used to the firm ground beneath her feet and the sounds of a living world - rare though they were, Lisbeth had not realised how accustomed she was to hearing the occasional bird or the soft whoosh of the wind. Here, the only noises came from footsteps and the muffled groaning of the ship's workings. This was not a place she should be, and throughout the three weeks, her intuition told Lisbeth time and time again that disaster awaited. In the whole trip, she barely uttered a word, except in private prayer, convinced that she could somehow trick whatever impending doom was hiding around the next corner by staying quiet. 

It was only during the last few hours of the journey, when it became clear that the ship would not break apart or burst into flame, that Sister Dominicia actually began to speak. Her natural bonhomie - some might call it youthful naivete - returned, and she made swift work of repairing any bridges that may have been damaged during the three-week trip. As much as she and her Sisters were dedicated to the service of the God-Emperor, they were still human, and still took offense at percieved slights. Sister Prudence, in particular, had been less-than-pleased to be shut out so suddenly by Lisbeth's change in demeanour, and while a sincere apology after the morning's duties and prayer did not feel sufficient, it would have to do for now. It was entirely possible that within a few hours of planetfall, either might be dead, and Lisbeth did not wish either of them to commend their souls to Him without having at least made amends. She would have to do more, but that would have to wait. They both had precious little time to prepare.

[i]Prepare yourself, my child,[/i] His voice said, after Inquisitor Klement called half the Sororitas to arms. Almost mechanically, Lisbeth set about her work; her power armour had to be properly sanctified before use, a process which took the best part of two hours before she was finally ready. She had no need for her helmet - it would be better for the souls on the planet below to see the face of one of the Emperor's daughters, and-
[i]Wicked child! Pride leads to damnation![/i] Such a lapse could not go unpunished, even for a few hours. Without an instant's delay, Lisbeth reached for the release on her left gauntlet, the mechanism clicking as it dropped off her arm. Stowing it on her cot, she grabbed her sarissa, hovering the blade above the flesh of her skin. She closed her eyes, wincing, and the voice came again. [i]Do not hide from it. Embrace it.[/i] Despite herself, she wedged her eyes open, sucked on her teeth, and pressed the blade against the back of her hand. Stifling a yelp, she began to cut, slowly, methodically, tracing the lines of the Aquila into the pale skin, grinding her teeth as the heavy blade cut through skin and surface tissue, maintaining an outward appearance of solemn calm only through reminding herself of the inviolability of His orders, and - oh, God-Emperor, it hurt! She shook as she struggled to finish the Aquila's tail, allowing herself a groan through locked jaws as she finished her penance. Now, finally, she could get on with-

"The Inquisitor!" With all the time she had wasted with her lapse of discipline, Lisbeth had barely left herself enough time to gather her wits and get down to the hangar in time! She shoved her hand back inside the gauntlet, biting her tongue as the sickly warm blood and the burning at the end of her nerves urged her to scream, affixed the still-wet sarissa to the end of her boltgun, and made for the hangar, sprinting all the way, shoving past crew and servitors in a mad dash, any pretense of dignity left behind in favour of speed. 

By the time she finally ade it into the hangar, the Inquisitor was already ordering the Sisters aboard the vessel which would take them down to the surface. No doubt she would be scolded for her tardiness, and further penance would be required. For now, she could ensure her wounds did not close by flexing her hand, and for once she wished she had brought her helmet so she would not have to feign serenity. As the noble Inquisitor briefed the gathered faithful, Lisbeth felt a sense of calm return - this was what she was created for. Feeling the God-Emperor smile on her, she raised her voice in question after Confessor Mazzini and Sister Alexa spoke (in strangely similar, booming tone, no less!) in inquiry. "Milord Inquisitor, are we to uncover the heresy, or remove it, too?"