The door slides open with a pressurized hiss as all of the Acolytes show up and what they are greeted with is a view that was nothing short of the quintessence of what it was to be of Noble birthright in the Imperium of Man. The captain’s quarters were actually more on par with a house within the ship, and before them was currently just the foyer and it alone was as big or five or six hab spaces found in the upper-middle hive and is essentially a great circle with a entrance and an exit that leads further back into the Captain’s quarters.<br/><br/>The floors were richly carpeted with an exotic, dark grey fabric likely from xenos origin and the whole room gleamed with gold and brass and statues of famous men and women looked at them from their perches as if judging them upon entry with their dead eyes.  Currently the whole room had been rearranged and in the center sat a great circular conference table with a massive archaeotech holoprojector built into the center of its metal surface.  The table was big enough to sit almost twenty people around it and currently ten chairs had been set up around the ancient device and standing around it were three figures with a crouched figure between them all fiddling with the guts of the machine via a open panel with a large toolbox at their side. The crimson robes trimmed with white cogs marked them as a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus .<br/><br/>The other three figures were currently in a heated debate it seemed, whispering lowly in a heated fashion and the unmistakable form of Mercia was simply standing there with a hand on her hip as it all went on. The inquisitor stood an easy 5’6” tall and was clad in a black leather coat, the only trace of vanity being the collar was lined with the black feathers of some sort of bird. Otherwise she was as utilitarian as one would expect, her hair was still bleached white from her service in the sisterhood although pulled back into a long ponytail, the hairclip holding it baring the skull of the IoM. Her free hand made a jab at the woman standing easily two feet over the brass-like gilded metal of her augmetic glinting in the low right of the room. “I do not care what you say, xeno. This is a matter of the Inquisition and I will not have you interject with whatever ‘authority’ you think yourself to have.” Mercia sneered, her pretty face twisted into a scowl, the burn marks from her life before still visible.<br/><br/>The ‘Xeno’ she had gestured to stood high above her and the captain both, the woman lithe as if she possessed no body fat at all, her cheeks high and proud and her chin pronounced with her nose having a fine point to it. The thing could have even passed for human if not for the pointed ears and its movements. AS the female xeno paced it was almost upsetting to the stomach to watch. The woman moved with a sureness and grace that simply baffled the mind. How could something move with such little resistance, how could they be so poised?  “Mercia. I am the Lord Captain’s right hand and I  -will – have my opinion in this, Inquisition or no. This is suicide.” The Eldar’s voice had a resonance to it, almost like someone had filled a pure crystal glass with water and ran their finger around the rim and it sounded as high and haughty as one could imagine. Unlike the inquisitor this woman was far from utilitarian in appearance. She was dressed in a fine coat of blue and gold with a gold sash around her middle and a low-cut corsair’s shirt beneath showed some sign of her midriff, her pants were a simple brown leather and clung to her lithe legs. As the acolytes drew closer her one good silver eye flicked over the humans and she simply rolled the almost opalescent orb. Her other eye was simply a white field, a deep scar running vertically down from her forehead to her cheekbone though despite this it did little to mar her uncanny beauty, though her uncanny valley resemblance to a human likely offset that. “And I am not ‘xeno’ my name is Aine. Mon’keigh.”<br/><br/>The human man who stood between them looking most uncomfortable stood a modest 5’8” and was clad mostly like Aine , his coat rich and colorful and his rings adorned with all manner of gaudy rings and his body with rich ornamentation. As he smiled upon the Acolytes entrance his most gaudy feature was likely noticeable, the great mustache he had grown twitched with the motion, the portly man spreading his arms wide and stepping forward from between the two bickering women. “Ah if it isn’t my most honored guests. I am happy to serve the inquisition and welcome you to my chambers.” The two women simply glared at each other for a moment, Aine shaking her head and crossing her hands behind her back in silence before Mercia too moved forward, the fleur de lys on her cheek finally visible on her pale skin. As she looks over all of her charges, her brown eyes examining the Acolytes thoroughly she pauses for the briefest second on Evangeline before looking to the rotund man beside her , the man twirling his mustache idly as he glances up to her as if waiting for her. “ Shall we start then?”<br/><br/>“I suppose so. Acolytes, this is Vern Soit.” The inquisitor gestures to him with her augmetic hand.  “ We will be onto briefing soon.” Her eyes move to Evangeline once more  and she shakes her head at the flash before she moves forward and snatches it from the witch’s’ hand  insistently or at least tries to. “And to think you would –behave-“<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>