Kraevus does not respond to you, merely standing impassively, yet his crimson lenses follow your every movement.
Jerrill kneels over the corpse. "Thin, needle like weapon. No discolouration to the wound,no burns. Just a knife."
He bounds up to the control pulpit, taking the skeleton steps almost two at a time. He stands over the dock controls and stabs at the runes. He grunts and steadily makes his way back down. Stooping a little, he dips the tip of his small finger into the puckered opening of the wound on the dead man, drawing it out and sniffing carefully, in short snorts. He swivels on his heel, to encompass both Astartes in his view. He straightens and holds up his finger.
"The controls were tampered with, several sanctuary locks were released. What do you make of this?" A small bead of viscous liquid sits on Jerrill's extended digit.
The Red Hunter barks through his vox-grille. +Inquisitor, should we not prepare for translation? The Wolf's death is lamentable, but we remain, as does the mission...this can be dealt with later - as the Codex...+
"Yes, yes. Where lies your voice Brother Raziel?"
The powers of Astartes are well known, and you needn't go to close to the Inquisitor, if you wish to examine the residue. If you do, please make an Easy (+20) smell based perception test. You will need to doff your helm for this. Any DoS will reveal more details of the chemical composition of the substance.
Alternatively, you may follow Kraevus' lead and move to the Strategium for final preparations to make planetfall upon Tabius Rasa, leaving the Inquisition to ponder the murder and sabotage.
Indexes: IA: Scions of Gehenna IA: White Paladins
Fuel-oils and the scent of burned exhaust metal greeted the back of his nose and throat. The horrible stink of scorched plasteel, where the naked sun had touched it in space, lingered in the air - a delicate cross between extinguished candles, burnt plastic and molten solder. It was a truly awful concoction. "Smells like home," he winked at Tyrell.
The giant stood across from him, visor opened and mask withdrawn. He pointedly sniffed. "You lived in a fart-bottling plant?"
Arron Owen, The Ares Gambit.