<div class="floatleft">(http://www.henningludvigsen.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/Warhammer_40K_Astropath_tn.jpg)</div><strong>Shipside - Choir Hall</strong><br/><br/>The last notes of the Ritesmasters hymn to the Omnissiah faded as they left behind the blasted realmspace of the Warp. Theirs was a song that had been sung by the Adeptus Astra since the Beacon was first lit in the heavens and that would continue to be sung till the stars themselves grew old and feeble and finally flickered into endless night. But even then, when the last lights die, the Astropaths will guide the Imperium.<br/><br/>The darkness cannot defeat one who does not need eyes to see.<br/><br/>"Did our prayers appease the Omnissiah?" Victris asked his voice ringing in the now silent chamber as he remained knelt in the hall. The faint echoes of the Warp taunted him like vibrant colors to a man surrounded by grays. Alive. Intense. Real in a way few could ever understand but the psyker steeled himself against it.<br/><br/>The taint of a Genetor's work held no weight against the Emperor's light.<br/><br/>"We are 12 days out from JD-582 and without significant damage to ship or crew. Praise the Emperor," Ritesmaster Hadley called from the vox station and a dozen voices echoed him.<br/><br/>"Then begin the Rites of Cleansing," Victris said rising to his feet with the help of the shock staff that was always by his side. There was a fine tremor of fatigue in the lines of his shoulders. The result of 5 days without sleeping. Five days spent in deep prayer and fasting. "I go to meet with the captain."