[color=00a651]"May the holy God Emperor be my guide,
steady my hands and the hands of my companions,
for we do the work that you chose us to do,
the work that others dare not think of doing.

Burn the heretic,
kill the xeno,
purge the unclean.

For the glory and honour of the God Emperor."[/color]

Arkaeus' eyes were shut, his rosary clasped in one hand as he finished whispering his prayer to the Emperor. His other hand, wrapped around his staff, gripped it tighter as his last words left his mouth. He returned the rosary to where it belonged, around his neck, and opened his eyes.

He was no priest or holy man, he knew this, but his service to the Emperor was of another entity entirely. His mind and soul belonged to him, and he'd been sworn under the service of the Inquisition, after years of peace on his assigned world. Now here, in the confined space of the descending transport pod, did he feel at full ease. Being born on a ship did that to you. When all you knew as a child was the four walls of your cabin, and the outside world being nothing but a black, starry void, you grew to accept that as reality, not realising that beyond the black there laid worlds, planets, vast stations and much more. Aboard the ship, they worshiped the Emperor wherever they could, though there was a church within the cruiser built for such a purpose, he'd been brought up that prayers uttered before you did things of importance was okay too.

Here though, in the dingy, confined space of the elevator, he had the proper chance to observe his companions. Their group numbered seven in total, including himself, and had arrangements as high as the lofty Arbitrator Atreides to the Outcast, Adrianna Perdito. They even had a Vindicare Assassino, the mysterious man Warmund, a deadly killer no doubt, and an excellent addition to the team. The Missionary, if a part-mechanical man could be called that, Rodrick, was also a mystery to him. The last two of their team spoke volumes to him of the significance of their mission, however; as serious as the mission was, he knew that if the Inquisition had placed a former Imperial Guardsman on the team, it was for good reason, and the man, Holand, was to be integral to their mission. Last, but by no means least, the lone Sister of Battle, Helana. As much of a religious woman as he was, Sister Helana would have much to prove and even more to display come the time to act.

Himself? He was but a psyker, a mere mind sanctioned by the Emperor and the Imperium to work for the greater good of Mankind. Sure, not many like his folk, but without psykers, the Imperium would not be in such a place that it was today. Ark knew this without doubt or worry.

At the small conversation that had begun within the elevator, he piped up, his voice soft but firm past the noise of the lift.

[color=00a651]"We will succeed in this endeavour, Arbitrator. This team is of many skills and much experience, yours included. I would have at least a little faith in the abilities of the rest of our teammates, aye?"[/color]


[hr][list]
[*]Pray
[*]Inspect surroundings
[*]Inspect team
[*]Speak
[/list]