Ry'thss finally reached her quarters, carefully placing her dataslates among the dozens of others she possessed. A linguist's work was never done. With a sigh, she looked towards the small corner of her room that was filled with a kind of small fish tank, barely fit for her to submerge herself in, and not suitable for swimming around. The woman stripped off her land gear, put on more water-friendly clothing, and climbed up the aquarium, diving inside headfirst, curling into a ball, and straightening herself inside. She relished the feeling of the water being filtered through her gills and looked at a monitor across the room she had some control over via a pad inside the tank, reviewing her notes. The water was much easier on her eyes than the dry air.
<Cha'ka> "Well, I grew up on Pech, my father was a Master Shaper, so my whole life was spent preparing to follow in his footsteps. A normal Shaper is only responsible for shaping his squad, whereas a Master Shaper works on not just the Carnivores, but deals with the other Kroot beasts, the Hounds, Krootox, and Knarlocs. I excelled at it all, particularly handling the beasts. When I came of age, I was sent to join my father, who had...ahhh here we are, my favorite place." The two strange companions entered the kitchens, where the Kroot was greeted with several waves and smiles by the crew, as he had spent much time here and was greatly complimentary of the food they cooked, and was more than willing to help out. The Kroot gets water and then sits down. "Anyways, my father had been leading a Kroot expeditionary force to discern the lack of communications from Tau forces there, which as it turns out were due to the Orks having wiped them out, but they destroyed our ship as well, and my father died in combat with the Warboss along with the rest of my tribe, but thanks to you all, I was able to avenge them."
(Thoren Corax) Before even entering the firing range, Thoren could already hear the loud sounds of live weapon fire and the damaging impact it caused on the targets inside. Upon stepping foot into the room, the Scion made note of SA582 in one of the firing chambers as it let loose a devastating barrage of weapon fire on all that it set its gaze on. In curious investigation, he made note of the targets that the machine had chosen and found that its aim was wanting in some regards. Against a horde of beasts, it would be a valuable assist. Against single targets and those found at a distance, the Scion felt it would be a possible liability in the field. Still, the damage the rounds did to the targets made up for its marksmanship. Regardless, he remained silent as he placed himself in a firing chamber next to the Thallax. Unclipping his Hellgun from the Power Pack on his back, Thoren gripped the rifle with his firm armored gauntlets and took aim at the targets within his field of view. His helmet's visor aligned with his rifle's scope, giving tactical readouts on the distance between himself and the target while also enhancing his line of sight. Analyzing the battlefield, he counted 20 "hostiles" within variable distances of each other. Hardly a challenge, but enough to test his reflexes. Firing in semi-automatic to maximize accuracy and weapon control, the Scion fired round after round as his gaze quickly jumped between targets. Each time the heated round dispensed from the rifle's barrel and into his motionless target, the shot found its mark with astounding precision. Within moments, all 20 targets in his line of sight had been successfully hit. Each one had a single burn mark in the center of the target, a bullseye each time without question. Taking his finger off the trigger and lowing the rifle to his chest with the barrel aimed securely at the floor, Thoren hastily flipped the rifle's fire selector to its safety setting and reattached it to the Power Pack on his back. Even thought his accuracy had been practically perfect, he was not fully satisfied. His rate of fire and speed with which he changed targets was down slightly since last he was at the firing range, a fact that irritated him to no end. The sound of a fustrated sigh could be heard escaping his helm as he turned to the target selection panel in his firing chamber, resetting the targets to be replaced with new ones. Perhaps it was time to practice on moving targets...
<Cha'ka> "Great? Perhaps, but it is unfinished, and I have done nothing noteworthy, but my time will come, what about you? You were already with the Inquisitor when we met."
Loki ignored the gathering in front of the Valkyrie, making way towards his quarters. They will soon reach the location and he needed to prepare himself for the undertaking. Thankfully, he always traveled light. Inside of his room, there were many exquisite furniture parts. King-sized bed was placed on one side, couple of drawers and a wardrobe next to it. On the other side, a chair and a big wooden table made of quality oak, imported directly from Valhalla. As Loki approached it and took a seat, he found a luxury box on top of it, a meter long. He inserted a code and the box clicked, revealing an equally dazzling item. It was a slightly curved sword, the blade shining in the light which showed no signs of damage - it's owner obviously took good care of it. The hilt was made out of bone-white material decorated with a big black gem just below the grip. If it was indeed an actual bone, you couldn't say since it was processed and polished to the fullest. Smiling, the Torturer cleaned the blade with a purple cloth he found in the box, not wanting a single piece of dust to ruin it's perfect form. Placing the sword on the side, Loki pulled out a small leather bag from one of the drawers. He gave only a small look inside of it, making sure everything was there. This quick glance rewarded him with the image of small blades, knifes, pliers, pincers - tools of the trade. Satisfied, the man rose up and walked over to the wardrobe. From it, he took a new set of robes. They were of black color, just like the ones he wore now, but it was obvious that material was different. The new item looked much more luxurious, made of something close to silk, but much more sturdy, rimmed with reddish lines which finely added to his overall persona. Below the robes he wore the same garment as before, alongside with his mask, cloth intertwined with leather gave him the looks of some nobleman, rather than a man working in Veronica's retinue. But the Ordo was always generous with rewarding it's important members and Loki took the most out of it. For it was a well known truth that clothes indeed make the man. He was ready for the mission. The only thing left was the Inquisitor's summon.
-Selina- "Me? I was... Expelled from the Sisterhood... Because I sinned... And now I search the Emperor's forgiveness with the Inquisitor and this Retinue. May the Emperor forgive me for my sins..." Selina looked ashamed.
Eventually another Valkyrie landed, spat out six individuals and then departed again. Four Inquisitoral Stormtroopers that escorted two individuals straight toward the Inquisitor Private Chambers. If one would approach them, they would had been waved away. <Veronica Bishops Quarters> The woman changed into much much more comfortable garments - At least for herself. A tight black bodysuit that looked rather alien, something you would assume a Tau or Eldar to wear beneath their armor. It looked quite tight, but seemed to stretch and go with her shape as required and enough to keep certain areas covered from unnecessary interest - which mostly would affect the opposite gender. It was pure black like the coat she wore before. Her blonde hair made, what humans would think of, as beautiful contrast against her clothes, sitting comfortably in her chair with the legs crossed over one another and a bolt pistol laying on the desk in front of her, slightly too far to grab it instantly - she would have to lean forward to grab it. Therefor obviously showing that she was not feeling any danger within her own craft. A smile peaked upon her lips as the door opened and the two individuals were let in, the Stormtroopers remained outside to hold guard on the only door-entrance into her room. "Sooo you are the... Other guys, mh?" She started, putting her hands behind her head. "Then let me hear a bit about you." Veronica turned her chair around so it's back was pointing at them. OOC: Entry point for our newcomers Skarboy and Cain; though at least Cain I know may reply much later on.
