At the Grand General's call, Inquisitor Pallas smiled to himself. He paused the holo he was watching, and put everything he had out away, then proceeded to dress himself in his full regalia. He stopped in front of a full length mirror, not a matter of vanity of course, but because he represented the Inquisition, and dared not be seen by anyone outside of his small retinue improperly. He removed his glove and rubbed his chin and cheek, making a note to shave within the next three days if possible. For now, though, the stubble was acceptable. He straightened his belt, upon which was sheathed his blade and holstered his bolt pistol. Perfectionist that Pallas was, he'd even less dare see the Grand General himself crookedly.<br/><br/><br/>He stepped into the corridor, closing and locking the door to his quarters behind him, and walked for the bridge. The Inquisitor left his retinue to prepare and present themselves in their own time. He sent a short vox to them, "On the bridge when you're ready." Making his own way there, Pallas tried not to smile to himself every time someone stopped, averted their eyes or dodged around him as they made their way to their stations. It was as if they feared the Inquisitor could smell or see a heresy on them as easily as a wart, and a part of him enjoyed it. It tended to make things easier, because the real heretics were the ones who would try to hide unease in his presence. And the ones completely at ease? Either other Inquisitors, ancient warriors, or daemons. Catching on to that quickly helped him become an Inquisitor all the more quickly.<br/><br/><br/>Pallas walked onto the bridge, stopping to stand next to the Grand General. "It relieves me to be coming out of the Warp. I was beginning to run out of things to do in my quarters." He clasped his hands together behind his back, watching the viewports ahead.