The Storm Raven arced gracefully through the sky, despite its strange angled nature it was an elegant craft, skimming over the ocean on its approach to Piscini Secundus. A huge city floated atop the unending sea. Silhouetted black against the incredible blue. The Inquisitor gripped tight as the craft shot into the sky, circling the small number of buildings that served as a space marine outpost.

The craft descended slowly onto the parade ground. She wasn't sure whether this was merely to increase the tension or not, either way she enjoyed it. Huge red walls rose up on either side as they dropped down, as if they were any use against the real enemy.

With a heavy thud the craft landed, the landing gear hissed as it took the weight of the craft in the increased gravity. The door fell slowly down, revealing the splendid blue of this world's atmosphere. The buildings were all small, only three stories at most, all of old gothic architecture. A back water if ever there was one.

Alone stood a man in dark green ceramite. He wore no helmet, only the scars of battle. His face looked anxiously towards the inquisitorial symbols on the craft. The Inquistor stepped from the ramp, touching grey paving gingerly as she got used to natural gravity once again. Her black clothes bore the insignia of an Inquisitor, she was not someone you wanted to meet, even in good circumstances.

Two warriors descended after her, instantly recognizable as the Grey Knights, their halberds clasped tightly across their chests. "Servants of an Inquisitor, there is no honour in that" he thought, he would have spat if an sliver was left in his mouth.

She grinned manically at him as her minions advanced.

"Brother Sergeant Samuel, we need to speak with you." She instructed.

The last thing he saw was the end of a halberd about to make contact with his face.

Samuel awoke naked on the floor. Its cold smooth surface was slick with blood, staining its flawless surface. A light warbled between harsh and bright and total darkness. The walls were those of a ship. Though he couldn't be sure where they were, only the shudder of engines indicated that this was only a small vessel. Other than that the only noise he could hear were the screams of someone, or something. In the corner lay a pile of armour, the armour of a space marine, but somehow not. Its light grey surface was pot-marked with centuries of scars, the wolf and the moon on its left shoulder told of its origin. It was old, incredibly old.

He wasn't sure how long he'd been in this cell, only that ever nerve in his body seemed to be screaming in agony. He grimaced as he picked himself up, sitting back against the wall he considered his fate.

He almost certain to die as were all who were "spoken to" by the inquisition. They were spoken of in hushed whispers in every corner of the Imperium. No one was safe from their infernal piety, as far as they were concerned, there was no innocence, only varying degrees of guilt. Whatever they thought Samuel had done, they were almost certain to convict him of it, not that that mattered anyway.

He felt his nose where they had hit him, sure enough it was broken. He reached up and snapped it back into place with a crack, he grinned as he did, they were sure to be watching.

The door slid open with a gentle hiss. The inquisitor stepped through with her body guards. A pedestal ascended from the floor and she sat atop it. Crossing her legs lazily. She smiled curtly before producing a data tablet. There was a minute of silence as they studied one another.

She was in a strange way beautiful, but almost certainly clinically insane as far as samuel was concerned. Her hair was tied behind her face and her uniform immaculately pressed, speaking of indoctrination and efficiency. She was here to do a job, no matter what means she had to use, she'd get it done. Her smile was genuine, the surgeons had done their work, not eve a space marine could resist the torture she had planned for him, interrogation was more than just a job to her, it was an art form.

She looked down upon her prey.

"Samuel?" She questioned

He grinned, "What happened to Brother SERGEANT Samuel!"

He howled in agony as pain flowed through his body, inhabiting his every extremity, filling his chest and piecing his mind. It stabbed at his conscious being. She grinned back at him, releasing a button on her data slate. The pain stopped, leaving a sour aftertaste.

"Samuel, wit is certainly not one of your strong points." she spoke softly, "now are you going to answer properly."

"I may do." he smiled.

"YES, INQUISITOR." she shouted as she pressed down on her data slate, raising up from her seat in a fit of anger. The pain came again, he clenched his hands tightly as he felt his muscles twitch in response. It stopped. He breathed deeply, releasing his grip. Blood dropped from his hand, splashing loudly as it impacted the wet floor. He could taste a strong metallic flavour as deep red liquid dripped lethargically from his lips.

"What were you doing on the Sentinel Worlds?" She asked calmly, her demeanor returned to its previous state.

"Chapter Business." He replied "Ask Azriel"

Her face dropped.

She held down the button as she stood up. "Give him another week." The agony returned, his nostrils flared as he watched her leave. Slowly the pain dissipated, allowing him respite. He looked up to see a grey boot of ceramite. His head rebounded off the wall as it smashed into his face. He dropped to the floor, the guards walked out, the door sliding sluggishly into place behind them.

He felt his nose.

Frak, its broken again.

The sentinel worlds, he thought, that was a failure of a mission, no contacts, no artifacts recovered, not even a sighting of anything unusual. Such was the case with informants, often they spouted false statements to obtain money or favour. For two weeks they'd scanned the area, but found no signs of corruption, so signs of the great enemy.

He frowned. Would inquisition really risk openly attacking a space marine chapter as powerful as the Dark Angels. Although he knew they were suspicious of its secretive inner workings and the control it exerted over its successors, but suspicion alone would not suffice when a Chapter Master became involved.

He snapped his nose back into place again.

He was sure he'd find out soon enough, whether he wanted to or not. Whatever happened there was little hope that he would survive this encounter.

The inquisitor ascended to the bridge. The requisitioned crew nervously glanced at their temporary masters, a tall slim woman, fear incarnate, who could order the cleansing of whole worlds, along with her two trusted warriors, towering over 8 feet tall, their armour as hard as a tank. They were faster than any human could possibly be, impossibly strong, with super human reflexes. Truly a fearsome sight to behold, voices became whispers in their presence, the crew was aware of the prisoners on the lower decks, they'd heard their screaming in the darkness, in the artificial night.

In front of her sat rows of servitors and crewmen, furiously working, not daring to meet the gaze of this harridan. In the centre of the room was a throne like structure, it teemed with wires and circuitry, screens and dials filled its arms along with a small monitor that folded away from view as they approached. The chair spun to reveal a stumpy man, his naval blues pressed in a haphazard fashion and hair streaked with grey. His face was unwelcoming, wrinkled with age and hardened by years of Imperial Bureaucracy.

He glared at her. "Inquisitor Kalloris, have you established our destinations from your…conversations…?"

"As a matter of fact Captain, I do." She smiled politely at him, "The Sentinel Worlds."

The captain looked at her suspiciously, wondering what she could be interested in there. He paused. "You realize there has been a major raiding fleet operating there recently?"

"I realize this captain, it is my job to ask questions, and your job to obey orders is it not?"

"It is Ma'am, however this is merely a frigate, its designed for speed not combat!"

"Captain, I will not repeat my order."

He glanced at her in contempt, before turning to his crew. There was little love lost between the Navy and the Inquisition, especially when it came to requisitioning vessels. His Fury had been chosen because it was fast, an upgraded variant of the Firestorm Class Frigate with a much more efficient engine, allowing greater power to the engines and lances. Although instability had proved a problem for many of those upgraded, bless the Omnissiah he had never had problems.

She watched him expectantly, a grin crept on to her face.

"Very well, helmsman, our destination is the Sentinel Worlds."

"Yes, Captain" came the quick reply. The ship shook gently as it was brought about. The captain relaxed into his chair as the Inquisitor walked out, satisfied her will was being done. It usual took around nine days for a ship to navigate the strange eddies and flows around the Eye of Terror, His Fury would do it within the week.

He stood up, brushing himself off before setting off towards his quarters. He felt the ship jolt as it jumped into the warp. He pulled a pendant from his pocket and rubbed it gently. Another trip in the warp, another smooth passage he hoped.

The ship was relatively well kept, certainly the best of his many postings. He'd served on board as 1st Mate, and then Captain for the last four years. It corridors were smooth and showed little sign of damage and almost none of repairs. Then again this vessel was used mainly for transportation by the navy as part of a much larger squadron. Its speed was an excellent asset and although it lacked the strength or survivability of a cruiser, it could certainly fend off much larger vessels with its powerful lances.

For the moment he was happy, even if the Inquisitor was taken them into danger, his crew had proved on every occasion that they were up to the task, and anything they couldn't kill they could easily outrun.

The door to his quarters slid open to reveal a comfortable billet. A large room furnished in smooth mahogany like wood, large screens and data slates decorated the desk, "certainly a lovely place to spend as much time as possible" he thought. Removing his boots and feeling the rug he had laid on the cold metal floor before dropping onto the bed.

Sleep took him almost instantly, it had been an intense few days.