'I looked into it... the shadow, I mean... and it was like I was falling, straight through the snow towards the ground, and... and something was chasing me, burning me from behind my eyes... Emperor preserve me, it was a pregnant hag - the size of a city - rushing down from the stars... a-and... and she hit the snow and... ohhh... her bones broke and her belly split and...

'.. .and darkness crawled out from her womb.'

She forced open her eyes long enough to check that the servitor had recorded every word. It watched her without comment or movement, fully prepared to wait forever for her next command.

Sighing, Interrogator Mita Ashyn of the Ordo Xenos allowed herself the indulgence of slipping into a deep, exhausted faint.

'Ah, interrogator.'

'My lord.' Mita bowed formally, keeping her eyes lowered. She hadn't yet grown accustomed to her new master's idiosyncrasies, but had learned quickly that his legendary temper was deployed far more readily amongst those who failed to show the proper obeisance. Given that he insisted upon wearing a mirror-helm with only the narrowest of eyeslits, it was perhaps unfortunate that any interested glance towards his surreal headgear was mistaken for disrespect, which of course invited the full force of his wrath.

Inquisitor Kaustus was not a man to cross lightly.

Mita considered herself relatively safe, just as long as she occupied her view with the tails of his chequered robes and the heavy soles of his armoured feet, rather than his feather-mantled shoulders and reflective mask.

'Stop that,' he snapped, proving her wrong, his voice curiously soft for such an imposing figure. 'I won't have my acolytes bowing and scraping like common peasants. I'm your master, girl, not your Emperor,’

'Apologies, my lord,’ She straightened and adjusted her gaze vertically, oozing penitence. Perhaps chest height would be more appropriate.

Behind her, a couple of the innumerable cowled figures that comprised Kaustus's retinue sniggered lightly, amused at her mistake. She forced down the overwhelming desire to break their heads and forced herself to calm. As the newest member of the entourage she'd quickly learned that rank counted for exactly nothing: technically her command was second only to the inquisitor's, but it seemed respect was earned - not demanded - amongst this colourful crowd. As long as Kaustus continued to humiliate her in front of them their respect would continue to be in short supply.

'I've read the account of your vision,’ the inquisitor said, voice dripping scorn, waving a spindly datapad across her view. You fainted.'

'It was... unusually vivid, my lord,’

'I don't care how vivid it was, girl. I'll not tolerate my servants passing out at the drop of hat,’

'It won't happen again, my lord,’

'No. It will not,’ The datapad dipped upwards - the inquisitor's gaze roving across its spidery text. "Your account makes for... interesting reading,’ he said. 'What does it all mean?'

'I don't know, my lord. There are no cogitators here to deciph-'