Jhedin's hand whipped for his pistol as the Inquisitor twisted like a snake, blade raised. Sedire's sword was at his throat before his hand had reached the grip of the autopistol in his belt. Untensing as the sword was lowered, and somewhat shaken behind the impassive, blue visor of his carapace plate, he offered the Inquisitor the transfer and authorisation papers he had been given, and saluted.
"Jhedin Skia, Lord," he said. "Just graduated from the Schola Progenium on Jandermar, I have been assigned to your retinue, sir." |