Thread: Inglorious Acolytes (Friendly Alien & Openots)

They where summoned and invited to the ship 5 hours prior. They had been left to their own devices, given a brief explanation on the location of the facilities they could visit while they waited for the Inquisitor to see them at her behest. That wasn't too unusual, a Inquisitor of the Imperium and the holy God-Emperor was bound to be extremely busy, and few had the gall to question being told to wait for a summoning even when being left to wait for the better parts of a day. Patricia Velm, had arrived with the same shuttle as a couple other guests but she didn't think much of them. She had spent most of the voyage trying to figure out the affiliations of the shuttlecraft and it's crew, and not getting sick in the process while she broke the atmosphere and felt the smooth caress of zero-gravity on her body. She wasn't used to space travel having only done it once before, and even that was something of a privilege that the vast majority of men and women in the galaxy. She figured it was Inquisitorial, but that didn't take a genius since she knew she was being summoned by one... And she had a hunch of just who it was too. She shuddered on her seat in the dark conference room. It was rather spacious but devoid of luxuries. The walls, floor and ceiling was black, safe for whatever cords and power cables linking to the holo-transmitter on the ceiling that had their own purposes that she was only beginning to delve into. Patricia wore the common garb for a young woman of her profession - the inconspicuous robe, coloured in dark red and orange that went well with her fiery hair. It clung loosely to her full figure and didn't accent her figure in detail but it was rather difficult to not notice that puberty had been inordinately kind to her. A great pair of breasts were set on her chest, and a blubbery behind came with the package. She looked rather plain otherwise. Pale skinned, freckles and a large pair of spectacles crowned her short nose. She wore a loose fitting robe on purpose, as she felt embarrassed wearing tight clothes and it was a bother to wear at the same time. She didn't carry a book with her for once, instead having a notebook tucked inside a sash on her side. She looked around her now and again, much more than just a passing curiosity in who else had answered the Inquisitor's summons. She figured why she was there herself, taking a not so very outspoken pride in her understanding of Imperial lore and understanding in the political workings of the Imperium. She was convinced that it was the reason when she understood that there wasn't that many other individuals in the room that shared her 'learned' looks - though she hated to assume, she was confident that the Imperial Guardsman and the... Sister of Battle where very knowledgeable people. She was still convinced that her reasoning was good though. Mary Velacruz had come to a similar conclusion. She stood behind one of the tall, black chairs donning her armour. She wore the rather standard Cadian Pattern flak armour, painted in a khaki-brown and dark brown striped camouflage pattern. Her fatigues where in khaki as well, and it blended with her slightly tanned complexion. She preferred to stand, as she always found it uncomfortable to sit down wearing the armour for some reason, so she avoided it if she could help it. She wore the full set, chest piece, shoulder pauldrons and knee pads minus the helmet. She kept her light brown hair tied into a pony tail that reached just to the beginnings of her armour. She crossed her arms and looked briefly around herself now and then, just taking in the sights as it were. Ever since she rose to the rank of Lieutenant she had gotten used to conference rooms, having a chance to actually meet with some genuine officers in the Imperial Guard. And she was still a young woman, and would only reach her thirtieth year in a few months from now. That was something she took pride in, and in the banner of the T'cho XXXI. 'Screaming Tigers' Motorised Infantry division. The emblem was painted on her left shoulder as well, the stylized face of a hissing feline. She realized that most seemed capable of defending themselves in a scrap, though some seemed most suited for... clerk positions. To her, this suggested some desire for interoperability. The idea of combined arms was something she was exposed to for years, and difference branches working together wasn't that strange to her in both theory and practice. Still, she had difficulty imagining what an Inquisitor would want with fighters and scholars. She squinted her eyes and stroked her smooth shin with her finger tips, humming thoughtfully to herself. But the imposing Sister of Battle wasn't occupied with inquisitive thoughts of reasoning and deduction. Standing in full battle-gear, her black armour and robes spoke of her order, the Order of the Valorous Heart. Or, at least it spoke out for those that had knowledge about the Adepta Sororitas. She was not the first one in the conference room, having a habit of working at her own pace when not surrounded by her fellow Sisters, the only group she really had any respect for and wished to conform to. Her hair was dyed black and kept short, which accented against her pale skin. She had otherwise a very angular and strong face that never lost that touch of femininity needed to be called out as looking female when wearing such threatening armour. Though, the bodice-looking chest piece might have made it easier to assume her gender. She rested a white gauntlet on the top of a nearby chair, standing like the Guardsman. She didn't stand however for her own comfort, oh no, she had found that it was easier to frighten and dominate those around her when you stood up with a scowl on your face, letting your grey eyes wander across the people around you. Especially if they were not fellow Adepta Sororitas. She was well aware about the reputation of her compatriots, and she counted on it. She was raised to be humble in the grace of the God-Emperor, blessed be his Name, but she had no such notions when standing next to, or towering over, women of lesser rank than her. She relished in the authority that came with her position, and she rarely had it challenged. She frowned extra hard when she thought about her last... humiliation. Bitter-sweet since it was difficult to not find it enjoyable in a carnal plane at the same time as it was insulting to be in a submissive position. She fought though. Oh, did she fight it. And she glanced to the Inquisitor with a look that was charged with animosity... as well as sexual friction. The other two tried to not pay attention to her, but it was damn difficult not to considering their experiences. Patricia kept her hands on her lap, ready to pay attention as soon as it was called for and Mary... Well, Mary didn't mind it so much being man-handled by someone of higher rank than her. Besides, she was used to coarse Commissars, and it was much more 'fun' being yelled by a superior when she's groping you. Amongst other things. She also had a hunch that the Inquisitor had something in store for her, ever since they first met. When Mary had a rather impressive part of herself in the mouth of one of the Inquisitorial aides.