[@Kratesis][@BCTheEntity][@jbeil][@Andreyich][@LemonZest1337][@Irredeemable]


So the adversary in dark armour had fled, fled fast and deep into the bowels of the ship and - so they believed - away from harm and pursuit. In this they were wrong. The justice of the God-Emperor had no boundaries, no limits of endurance, it was swift and it was always there, and with the acceptance of the entire coterie of Sisters and their spiritual hangers-on it was about to delve into the depths of darkness.

A moment or two were given for the execution of still-breathing heretics, the preparation and blessing of weapons and armour, and the giving to Squad Victorine of a 'guide' in the form of Rating First Class Jefferson. He was a tall man in his middle-age, a jawline chiselled from stone peppered with dark stubble, his bodysuit clinging tight to his body and a shotgun clutched in his ham-like fists. All-in-all the Celestian had seen weaker men, and was happy that the Captain had volunteered him for this task.

One-by-one the squad moved out, the Celestian herself taking point with Jefferson at her side, the others of the formation filtering in behind them as they advanced along the corridor down which the evil mirror image of Kliment had fled.

If they believed it would take a short time to locate and eliminate, well, they were quite wrong.

Even after what seems like two hours, and with the possibility that their quarry may have evaded them, they had traversed to a section of the ship that even Jefferson was not familiar with; it was an incident not altogether out of place on an Imperial or former Imperial vessel, entire contingents becoming lost in the criss-crossing interior, and communities of abhumans or mutants making their homes like cleaner-fish clinging to a sharks underbelly.

"I have no knowledge of this route," admitted Jefferson with a grunt, kneeling next to a spot and lifting a damp finger, "but there's more blood here. It seems that one of you tagged the fraker."

Their quarry had been leaving spatterings of blood, and it was in this manner that they had been able to track him thus far, but soon they would come across something...someone...else.

It was perhaps half-an-hour later when Victorine turned about and motioned to the rest of her squad in Sororitas sign-language, her hands flicking in the dim tunnel light a message, or a warning, that they should remain still and that they were being watched and even tracked themselves.

"Greetings..." came a croaking voice from the almost black parts of an antechamber they had just entered, round and silent except for the thrumming of the ships engines, "who are you?"

"I am Sister-Celestian Victorine of the God-Emperor's Sororitas, make yourself known!"

There was a brief exchange of words and noises with other unseen individuals before a ragged, shambling, form almost materialised before her and Jefferson - the Rating automatically raising but not firing his weapon in one fluid motion.

"Name...name Old Gruk," muttered the masculine [i]thing[i] before her, its head covered in a shaggy beard and hair so long that it was tucked into a belt (very probably of flesh) wrapped about its waist, "Gruk live here, live here with family."

Clearly Gothic of any sort was not Gruk's first language, and Victorine kept her weapons either sheathed or by her side.

"We seek an enemy, a dark warrior, he is bleeding. Have you seen him?"

There was a sort of snort from beneath Gruk's hooded, monk-like, cowl, "yeth, we see him...he goes by us and we let him...he makes my family afraid."

Drawing back his hood, Gruk revealed a face so mishappen that even a mother couldn't love it, the face of a mutant! His eyes were too large and bulging for his face, his lips bloated and his overbite two canines dribbling saliva between them, his skin mottled and scaled somewhat.

"We...we shall help your family be less afraid, Old Gruk, but you must show us where he went."

It took all her effort not to strike down the mutant where he stood, ending another abomination to the Emperor and cleansing a ship that should not have such creatures living aboard it to begin with.

"A moment, Gruk will speak with family."

Once more he disappeared into the shadows, although his heat signature was visible to her helmets limited sensors, as were a multitude of others. During this time she turned to her own squad and kept her voice low.

"Thoughts? Our sacred duty it to purge filth such as this, but could it lead only to greater evil? I also fear that these [i]things[/i] intend us eventual harm." She looked to Horacio then, "Confessor, what make you of this? We follow His words, and those of His representatives, what would the Ecclesiarchy say on this matter?"