Into the CIC of the Cruiser Shadow of Augmentation walked the commander of all he sees. This above average in height man look a bit odd even to the untrained eye. He stood in a long trebch coat which hides the armor he was wearing. His eyes had been replaced by what looked like sunglasses. And his limbs were replaced as well and his augments looked really well made though their capabilities were a mystery. He stopped before a 3-D virtual display of the world which they were orbit over. Not a word he said as he study the readouts that were displayed. The planet had alot of different types of terrain represented but it was mostly water.

It was a rare occasion to actually see the Raven Guard Landon, who joined the Rogue Trader quite a while. It was no surprise he was the first in this room, given he often shadowed over his employer, making sure that he was the only second shadow. Landon may be an assassin at often times, or a demolition expert. But when on the mighty rogue trader dynasty vessel, he was a bodyguard. Due to it being an official briefing, the raven decided to show his face with helmet attached to his waist, revealing the pitch-black, almost possessed eyes and his pale skin as if he was washed in bleach as a matter of torture. Lightning claws at the ready he merely waited for the meeting to begin, as well as conclude in silence. Standing with such discipline that one could almost believe he was a statue of a Raven Guard.

Abel had been in his room for a few days, or at least what he called days as when in space a day is a relative term. To Abel feeling the warmth of a star against your face or seeing the glow of a moon was a tradition day, not seeing a clock reset. Nonetheless, word had been passed to him that a new briefing was to begin. He was hoping, as he always did, that he would be assigned duties common to him like forward reconing, marking targets, or ending things with a single bullet from a distance. However, being with a Rogue Trader rarely gave one normal duties and he assumed this mission would be no different. So, after lighting up a lho-stick, he made his way to the briefing room. The walk there was one he had done, what seemed to be, a thousand times and normally was uneventful. There were serfs and Servitors scurrying about to finish their duties, but this was a common sight now and did nothing to make the walk anymore enjoyable.

Upon entering the briefing room, Abel took a long drag from the lho-stick in his cybernatic hand before approaching the table. Abel was paranoid enough as it is and an Astarte of the Raven Guard chapter only added to it. As it stood, Abel had nothing against Landon, but his mind had become to used to not trusting anyone. Abel nodded to the Rogue Trader before looking at Landon (@Uriel1339 ) exhaling the smoke from his lungs, "So this must be something of vast importance to draw you out of the shadows, Landon. There are times I think I see you running around the ship, but perhaps that is just the shadows dancing or my mind playing tricks on me." There was a little sarcasm in his voice, but it was not meant disrespectfully merely as a joke, if an Astarte knew what that was.

"That is the idea. Cannot have you lot become... How to put it... Careless. It keeps your senses sharp on the idea of a single Astartes being able to sneak into your room, hover over your bed and wait the entire night for you to wake up just so he can flay you alive and awake, Abel." Landon said in his typical neutral, ice-cold voice. He had no friends, allies or enemies. Only those he killed, and those he did not. However a slight smirk creeped up on his face. Perhaps he caught the joke? Then again Landon was never seen smiling or having an actual sense of humor, instead the smirk was just for an additional creep effect.

Abel let out a slight smile and a faint laugh. He then placed his thumb just behind his left ear and dragged it across his neck to his other ear, "I'd prefer quick and to the point. Ear to ear. Flaying someone who is screaming and thrashing about seems like a hassle." Seeing Landon's helm was off and looking in to his dull, lifeless eyes, he made a gun with his hand and aimed it at the Astarte's head with a smile, "A well placed shot though, that can change the landscape of a battlefield or end a war. That's efficiency at its finest."

Within a small room deep within the cruiser a man stirs in his sleep. He at first simply rolled around making grunting noises for a few minutes until he suddenly awoke wide eyed and mouth open about to scream but he brought his clawed hands over it to soften the sound. He was sweating profusely and his hands tumbled as he brought them down to support his upright position on the bunk. Tears streaked from his eyes but no more sound came from him. It was a reoccurring night terror, it would always start out with him on a pillar of some kind and be urged to stand onto of it and look down. From his potion a top the pillar he would always see hundreds of smaller with people on them. People he once knew from different times in his life from his parents and childhood friends to the people he met during his wandering and the people of the hive gang he was once a part of. They would always look up at him with faces of disgust or betrayal but said nothing. They just stared seemingly strait through him and his former ambition and emotional walls to see just some fifteen year old crying for his younger brother. Their started stung both physically and emotionally and a droning sound came ove the silence and the pillar he was on bench to move upward.

Soon enough he couldn't see the others and he was above the clouds all alone with nothing but himself. A sudden overwhelming sense of loneliness and emptiness caused him to fall to his knees and eventually into the fetal position while a strange organic substance crawled from the bottom of the pillar to the top eventually covering him and fusing his body into the pillar. Then he dream would end and he would wake up and scream. "Frak me." He said to himself as he finally stopped shaking and called out of the bunk and stood. His knees felt weak and he almost fell to the ground but stopped himself by grabbing onto the edge of the bunk. He edged his way over to a nightstand at the end of his bunk and grabbed the stim injector that laid next to a couple of empty bottles of cheap amasec and rotgut. The injector was filled with a potent pain killer that dulled the near constant pain of his mutations that were slowly taking over his body and basically allowed him to function. Though his dependence on it angered him from time to time he also knew his mutations weren't going dormant anytime soon and if he wanted to stay on the ship he needed it.

He pressed the injector's pointed end into his forearm and pulled the trigger sending the dark liquid into his veins drawing no blood. He then moved his arm up and down making the liquid move through his system faster and put the injector back onto the nightstand as the painkiller did it's work and his legs stopped shaking and his mind began to clear. He then heard a commotion out side his door that they had arrived at the planet and figured he should head up to the briefing room where likely the rest of the more specialized crewmen were already headed. So he pulled on his pants, buttoned up his shirt, slipped on his boots, and grabbed his sword and headed out the door. He didn't put on his armor because that would take longer and it's not like he would have to fight a small army on the way there. The most he would get is the usual strange looks from other crewmen when they saw his obvious mutations. Once upon a time he would have taken measures to hide them but he was well passed that option with part of his face having turned into the black almost scale like hide that completely covered his arms and most of this torso and his right eye had turned a rather unnatural void like black with his iris turning blood red. An evil eye is there ever was one.

Soon enough he stepped into the briefing room to see their local eight foot tall master of shadows and the ex guard sniper where having a bit of a chat. He didn't see a reason to add in his own thoughts and sat down in a chair near the holo display so he could see the planet in question.

Tyesha had been wandering the ship most of the "night" before the briefing, humming a small tune Tanaris as she stumbled about. Sleeping rarely came easy to her, and tonight wasn't any different. Sure wish Fraser was here, he always had pills to fix anything. Where's a Ratling drug dealer when you need one? Tyesha was used to traveling through the stars from her time as a mercenary, but staying on a ship for such long periods still threw her off. So much so that she hadn't even realized it was now "morning" on the ship. Or what it considers morning. In a way it wasn't much different from the Under Hive though. No sun. Massive twisting corridors to get lost within. Made it feel a bit more homey. But now it was time to see the new boss man. The Rogue Trader. He was a mysterious figure, always wrapped in that damn trench coat of his. She liked mysterious guys, but something felt off about him at times. But following him have her a true purpose, maybe make her life worth something. She couldn't pass that up. Another chance to fail, to kill and destroy everything around you. That is all you're capable of doing. It's all you've ever done. Give up child, and spare everyone of the despair you bring

The voices. That was what kept her up. She could block them at times, but only just barely. Ever since the incident they became more vicious. More relentless. Breaking away her sanity piece by piece. Keep trying creature. You haven't broken me yet. I must say dear you're awful at your job.

You hide behind your jokes and quips. But you know the truth, you are breaking. Piece by piece, we chip you away. How sweet it will be when I devour your soul. You will know nothing but pain and horror for all eternity when we take you.

You won't.

We already are, and there's no one to pull you from the abyss. At least none you haven't killed.

Stop.

Or driven away.

Be quiet.

Just how many of your friends lives have you destroyed?

@Uriel1339 @matt23 @TuskatheDaemonKilla
"ENOUGH!" Her voice rang out in a desperate cry, grabbing at the sides of her hooded head. When she opened her eyes again the voices went silent, and she was suddenly standing in the CIC, with her new crew mates standing there.

"Ah hello dearies, sorry about that. Minor headache is all. Landon, trust you spent the night stalking one of us? Have fun with that love? Abel, you flay anything lately dear? And Skyruss! How's Maruke..." Her rambling ceased when she realized who's name she said. Why did she say that name? He was gone. He wasn't here. He isn't here.

@Keidivh
Marcus was examining the holo display trying too see if he could spot anything out of the ordinary when he heard a disturbingly familiar voice yell out something outside the room and heard light footsteps. Dismissing any thoughts that implied the absolutely impossible he turned around to see who the next new arrival was. A woman in a familiar dress but with unfamiliar tattoos and a hood concealing her face but when she spoke his blood practically froze. 'No no it can't be' he thought to himself as he found he was unable to move and his eyes widened. He found his mouth opening but his mind could not put words together so his face stayed awestruck with a hint of fear in his eyes. His mind struggled to comprehend the situation laid before him 'This is impossible! How could she be this far out from Taranis on this exact ship?! How dammit!? How?!!' His mind screamed to itself. After all these years she of all people turns up. The One Armed Witch, the Summoner of daemons at the worst time possible, the Outcast Noble Psyker, Tyesha Demetris. At a time one of his closest friends now a woman he abandoned four years ago after a rather nasty argument turned violent.

"Holy god Emperor let my death be quick." Were the only words he managed to get out in the form of a rushed halfhearted prayer with his eyes still wide open and locked on the woman and his right hand slowly reaching down for the sword that hung from his belt.

Soon came a Skitarii by the designation of Theta-Xi 285 as rendered clear (at least the numbering) by the white writing above the hem of her Warplate's black robe. As she walked into the briefing room, the Skitarii saw both their Astartes and three of their more.... Replaceable team members, such as the Guardsman, the Spyrer and the Mutant were already present, likely waiting to see which task their boss had summoned them for which she presumed was likely involving the planet on the hololithic display.

While shipboard life wasn't anything new to her, the more specific details such as the rather diminished presence of the Adeptus Mechanicum, which was greatly disconcerting to someone who had grown in the shadow of the Omnissiah, rather than inducted into the faith of the Emperor.

Instead of making an introduction to everyone assembled when she'd have to repeat it to everyone else when they arrived, Karinitha decided to remain standing off to the sides just so that she could see how the interactions between the team members already present would play out, just in case that happened to be interesting information. Already, it was quite clear that the mutant really disliked the Psyker.

To pass the time until the briefing started, the Skitarii would be busy tending to her Marcrostubblers, softly humming to herself while she went about the necessary, ritualistic steps to maintain her pair of pistols, making sure that they were both mechanically functioning and that their spirits were happy.
Of course, someone of a more cynical disposition might be inclined to say that she was merely using said maintenance as a ruse to avoid having to talk with anyone present in the room.

Xander glared at the mutant and ex-psyker. Quick as thought a blade attached to some kind of wie appear to have left his hand and attached at his wrist. It wrapped around Marcus's sword and had. " No fighting among my staff. I will start when all are here. You have a beef settle it after you finish your contract. Tyesha hush and get a seat. " His voice was harsh and had a mechanical reverb in the undertone. He looked at his staff and so far they were not worth the price he was paying each of them.