Kestrel's training on the matter had been succinct. If you deem him compromised, end him. She'd also been advised that if the matter was not clear with just a moment's thought, ending him was the best course. Psykers were never considered stable under the best of conditions, and the consequences of one falling to Chaos far outweighed the inconvenience of losing one's service if killed falsely.
She pulled the knife back, letting it slip back into the sheathe along her arm. His fear convinced her. An alien from the warp might not want to die, but neither would it view someone like her a threat. Zhent's fear had been her constant companion on this trip...sometimes distant and vague, sometimes as sharp and as solid as the mercy blade itself...but never wholly absent.
This was still him.
"First, I think we should seal the box, so it can't be accidentally opened," she says. "Then...I want to see if it connects to the heretics on the train. In origin, or destination. We need to find out what we can. Rat, lets start with you. Tell us how you got this, and why, and what you were to do with it. Leave nothing out, even if you've told us before. Hearing the whole story will keep everything in context."
