IC II: DH The Purity of Sacrifice

[BananaPhone]

Marcella

milo will perk up at the result of marcellas pilots license "when you get a chance, id love to be allowed to ride along" he gushes. "my last flight was ages ago, and it was prolly a lot more plush than this one will be"

Marc tilted her head to look back over at Milo, her chin-lengthed blonde curls swaying as she did so. She smiled at his proposition.

"You're Mr Moneybags; fuel isn't cheap! So yeah, I'm more than happy for you to come along!" she giggled.

'I don't drink alone usually. You can never tell who you might run into, even away from the places where people know the Raptore.' Where was the harm in explaining. 'There are places that you can go to drink in the Underhive. I've supplied some of them with midhive booze myself. The ****tiest midhive bar is nicer but at least they have nice chairs. Some of them have music. Sometimes it's nice to go somewhere where there's no chance of someone trying to kill you.' Orla is matter of fact about that last point.

On Marcella, 'I was raised with all that.' Meaning the services. 'But it didn't take. No offence to Him obviously, but I figure he's got better things to worry about then what I'm doing at the weekends.'

At this, however, Marc appeared more serious, even worried for half a second. Her eye-lids noticeably expanded momentarily before going back to normal, as if she had heard something positively shocking - because she had.

Internally, the Psyker wanted to hold her heart to her chest and gasp, but she had to provide a cool front. Had they made a massive mistake brinigng Orla along? Was she secretly a heretic? Having heard the word of the Emperor but ignoring the duty mankind owed for his sacrifice and protection? What if the Interrogator thought as such? Would he be "disappointed" in them all for bringing a potential apostate with them to learn the outer-workings of the Inquisition and its holy mission?

Marc's heart-beat accelerated briefly, as if she were on a rollercoaster, before slowly subsiding. For a moment she wanted to turn to Milo, the priest, and see his reaction, but the man had just spoken about orgies, cigars and booze while dispensing action graphic novels to the faithless. So maybe it was up to her? As a Psyker she had seen the horrors of the Warp held at bay by the Emperor's light, and she had stood in his presence, received his notice, if even for a moment. Perhaps by re-kindling even a small spec of that emanation through Orla, she could play her part to buying mankind a few more seconds.

Reaching up to her neck, Marcella reached behind it and undid a slim, gold chain and withdrew it form her person, an icon of the Imperial cult dangling at the end, its skull-symbol catching the light. Holding the item in her right palm, Marcella conjured a mote of her psychic energy to quickly move it across the air and into Orla's lap.

"I know the nightmare of the warp; His light keeps them at bay. I would advise that you wear that somewhere visible on your person where we are going," she said gently. It didn't sound like a warning, a demand or a threat, but how it was intended: friendly advice.

The medical thing did interest her, 'You learning all that stuff? Is that from Hound?'

Marc's mood seemed to shift immediately, her eyes widening a little and her bright smile returning, "Oh, hehe, he is an excellent teacher. I developed a foundation at my...boarding school..." she said oddly, clearly trying to think of a way to phrase it, "and H agreed to take it the next step. If I passed, I get my license!" she beams happily.