“Although your individual skills are notable, your coordination and teamwork are a miserable thing. Therefore, you’ll be receiving a new team member as of now.”

Martha and Carrell glanced to one another, in recent months, the two of them had been exclusively fighting and doing their jobs as a duo. Another member would be a welcome sight to Carrell, perhaps someone else for Martha to threaten with a knife and lash out at.

Hargrave’s eyes rose up to the doorframe behind them again. Carrell caught the slightest glint of a small black bead nestled in the inquisitor’s ear as he pulled his hood back and turned his neck side-to-side. Finally, Hargrave absently grumbled out “Bring him in”. Seemingly to himself, but after seeing the microbead in his ear, Carrell knew better than to think the man was mad.

The door behind them opened with a creaking Whirr. A great black shadow seemed to swallow up the door in an instant as the figure came into view. Stooping low to fit through the door, the thing slowly came into view as a man when he finally entered the room in full, the black of the carapace armour that covered him, head to toe was what made his already likely impressive build seem even larger. A stocky shotgun was gripped firmly in his right-hand, a thick shield in the other emblazoned with the ‘I’ of the Inquisition.

The giant strode purposefully into the room. Every lumbering step of his heavy boots seemingly shaking the room as they struck against the ground.

Martha’s sullen face seemed to brighten for a moment as her head craned up to take in the carapace-clad goliath. “If he’s the new guy I have no complaints”

The towering man offered no response, instead, Hargrave leaned back ever-so-slightly in his chair before speaking himself “Understand that even if you had complaints, you would not be in a position to have them heard out currently.”

Another carapace-clad hulk lumbered into the room after his compatriot, though his armaments were slightly different. His right-most gauntlet tightly gripped a shaft of metal, one end of the shaft ended in what appeared to be a blunted mace head. Though Carrell’s eyes instead focused on the gentle hum that he could hear emitting from the thing. He had seen such implements before, knew them better than other’s might. Quietly deciding that he would much rather this black-clad giant be his friend rather than foe. After all, the guardsman was more than aware that being on the receiving end of a shock maul swing was an extremely unpleasant experience.

Carrell’s eyes snapped to the man’s other hand. It tightly gripped onto a black, glassy looking chain that ran from his clenched fist to somewhere beyond the door. The man pulled tight on the chain; Carrell caught a glimpse of dirty black hair as whoever was beyond the door struggled against the initial pull.

The goliath pulled tighter on the chain, something cracked against the metal outside as a small, thin boy was brought into the room, hands bound in obsidian manacles, a metal collar fastened around his throat.

To Carrell’s distaste. The boy was familiar, though Carrell kept silent as he was dragged closer into the room, handled roughly as he was brought in between the two carapace-armoured men.

“Inquisitor… why...” Martha was not quite so silent, her eyes narrowed on the boy and she mumbled though gritted teeth.

“Why am I assigning the psyker you captured to you?” Even Carrell could tell that Hargrave was forcing back the slightest of smiles, the drab man gave no great indication of such a thing though, merely the slightest of rises at the edge of his mouth, the wrinkles along his cheeks becoming ever-so-slightly more defined.

Martha nodded.

“Your hate is as good a weapon as any Martha, but that weapon has become misguided as of late. You show no restraint. If you would dare to ask for my favour again, you must show me that you have restraint, that you can control that seething hatred and zealotry of yours.” Hargrave’s eyes softened again “Your faith is admirable Martha, even if how you often display it isn’t.”

Carrell allowed himself the slightest of sighs. Hargrave had yet to say anything too damning to him. His relief was cut short as he saw Hargrave’s head turn, his eyes boring into somewhere beneath Carrell’s shirt.

“And you, you’ll never become anything better than what you are if you can’t command or make decisions. You do not give the air of an acolyte, of one deserving to be under the patronage of an Inquisitor of the Inquisition. You will learn to lead, and lead well, with the psyker as your charge.”

“I…” Carrell’s voice was quiet.

“I take it that my point has been proven already.” Hargrave reclined in his chair. “The collar around his neck limits his psychic abilities, whilst he is still able to manifest his powers, it will be difficult and tasking. The boy will be of assistance to the both of you if utilised correctly, and, if you handle yourselves as well as I hope you will learn to, he will certainly be no threat.”

Carrell saw movement at the corner of his vision, Martha’s mouth moving without sound, mouthing to herself ‘He wasn’t much of a threat without the collar’

Hargrave’s eyes crawled to the boy, purposeful and slow as his eyes locked with the psyker’s. “Sit” His gravelled voice demanded. With nothing more than a slight snarl, the boy pulled out a steel chair and sat atop it, his chains rustling as his two guards moved with him, standing at either side of the boy, hand’s tightening on their respective weapons the closer he got to the inquisitor.

As methodical and slowly as always, Hargraves leaned back in his seat. “Although we met earlier, I don’t believe I ever caught your name, might you indulge me with such knowledge?” There was a power in the cold eyes that the inquisitor had settled onto the psyker, something in gaze that took in every contour of the boy’s body, every awkward shift, every quiver of his lips.

These eyes only grew colder as the boy hawked up a glob of spit and spat it towards the inquisitor “The names Youkan McGoFuckYourself”