It had honestly never occurred to me that Inquisitors might have homes. I just always assumed  that they spent all their time roaming the galaxy fighting the Emperor’s enemies. This was, of course, naive of me. Obviously they needed places to recuperate, places to train, places to study. I had seen the Inquisitorial palace on Manaki once, I assumed that when they were off duty that they stayed in places like that, grim fortresses of black marble and adamantium. It had also never occurred to me that Urien was merely lending his services to the Inquisition. I had thought the Rogue Trader was a permanent member of Hadrian’s warband rather than an ally drawn in as necessary. A lot of assumptions I had made exploded under the weight of a few words.

 

“Is everything ok?” Hadrian prompted, clearly surprised at my silence.

 

“I… I’ve never been to Pacitus,” she admitted, as thought that was all was on her mind.

“I didn’t realize Inquisitors got to take vacations to…” she waved the glass, “have lives I suppose.”

 

“Of course I suppose all of this depends on us not getting killed on Danubis.”