DJAtomika — Roleplayer Guild

As the shuttle drew ever closer to the Adran VII landing bay, Kyntus adjusted her posture in her boots. Nervousness like this was uncharacteristic of her, especially since she bore the sigils, armour and weapons of the Adeptus Arbites, one of the most fearless forms of the Emperor's justice in the galaxy. But it had only been days, no weeks since she'd been given the news that she had been handpicked to be part of an Inquisitor's retinue. An Inquisitor of the Malleus, no less. The thrill was present in her mind, but it was overridden by anxiety. How had she been picked? Why her? And with her mastiff, no less. Somehow the Inquisition had seen it fit that both her and her cyber-mastiff were worthy to be part of this retinue. Speaking of the pooch, Patches had to be shut down for the trip. Organic dogs didn't take well to warp travel, especially with how far the Hive world was from their destination.

The arbitrator sighed and adjusted her armour one last time. Her Arbites livery, mostly undamaged, bore several scars and marks of her time spent orchestrating the Emperor's justice in her homeworld. But no matter how much she and her team worked, crime always persisted, sometimes triumphed against what she knew was right and true. A sad truth, one that made her tighten her grip on her power maul's hilt. Kyntus cleared her head of thought as the servitor announced their arrival, shortly followed by the thump of the shuttle's landing gear hitting plas-steel. With a stretch of her shoulders, Kyntus stood and adjusted her armour for the last time. With her weapons stowed, she reached behind her mastiff's armour-plated head and tapped a control switch that reenabled its motor functions. 

One bark later and she was out of the shuttle. Her dog at her heel, she strode forward, past the throng of personnel within the landing area and down towards the coordinates she'd been given. A few minutes walk and she approached what she assumed was the motley crew that made up the retinue. One of the men, of the Imperial Guard by the looks of it, gave a crisp, neat salute to another pair of men. As she emerged from the elevator, she strode forward and presented arms; her maul clipped neatly to her belt, hand snapped to a salute, shotgun with its stock to the floor and her mastiff at her leg, seated on its haunches.

"Arbites Cyber-Mastiff Handler Kyntus Arvele and mastiff, reporting for duty, sirs."
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