“Keep out ma’am for your own protection!” the arbite officer was shouting. His words were unecessarily loud as he had been half deafened by the las fire and rolling concussions of the blasts. Tendrils of black smoke were coiling from the room, sweet with the smell of cordite from the grenade bursts. Silvana’s ears were preternaturally sharp, honed in favor of her eyes over many decades and they buzzed with the overload of sonic input. Fortunately noise and chaos were not new sensations for her. She reached down and lifted the officer restraining hand from her shoulder. He was a fit looking man with sandy blonde hair which had been cropped close to his scalp his jaw was very square and shaved completely smooth. She estimated him to be in his mid thirties and he had the feeling of a veteran.

“What is your name?” she asked. The officer was still trying to pull her away.

“Ma’am we need to…”

“What. Is. Your. Name,” she repeated, this time with the slightest jolt of power. It stopped the man more effectively than a screamed order could have.

“Holden Taq,” the officer responded without hesitation, his face slightly shocked. Silvana nodded in satisfaction. As he spoke the words, a badge, previously a fuzzy detail in her mental image, sharpened into focus listing him as Lieutenant Taq. Feet were thundering across the floor now as house arms men in guilded armor and ceremonial livery of red and silver rushed towards the scene. For all their glittering uniforms they carried very practical las guns, whose gray plastic casings gave them the look of stinging insects amidst the pomp and color. 

“What we need to do Officer Taq is keep these good people from getting involved with this. Take your men and cordon this room off.” Taq looked dubious but to his credit he didn’t hesitate.

“Form a line, no one in or out including the armsmen!” he bellowed in a voice that could have been heard over a riot. Shaken and unsteady by what they had seen the men shook out into a loose line, rifles held across their chest.

“What authority am I supposed to use to keep house arms men out of their own rooms Ma’am?” he asked looking a little nervous as the armsmen began to square off against the arbites both groups looked nervous and twitchy. Not a good combination for men armed with deadly weapons.

“Tell them you are acting under the orders of the Adeptus Arbites - NAME.”

“But Ma’am…”

TELL THEM. She thought/spoke into his mind. Taq stiffened and then turned and strode to the front of his men.

“Adeptus Business! Stand down boys, it's sorted out!” he bellowed. An angry looking young man with the smooth face of one undergoing anti-acne medicae and a red sash of office stomped forward. There might be a shouting match but not a gunfight. The immediate threat contained Silvana stepped into the paint splattered room. Blademar was pulling himself from under the bed. Splintered wood and torn bedding were everywhere, pieces of down eddied in the after currents of the grenade detonation like miniature tornados.  She sighed with relief to see he was still alive. It would have been extremely awkward to explain to Lord Alrik how she had let his Interrogator get killed on their first day on planet.

At least the animating force was gone, torn to shreds and burned by the explosive blasts. The slight stink of the Warp still lingered beneath the smell of explosives and burned paint but it was a passive threat now. 

“I am glad to see you are alright Adept Blademar,” she said, keeping to the name he had specified in spite of everything.

“I think it's safe to say that there is more than simple kidnapping at play here,” she added in a droll understatement.