<Feron> Feron maintained as calm and still a composure he ever had, lingering just near his Brother Salamander and the Blood Claw. His tongue remained held on all matters of the bickering, never good to stoke the fires, best to just let that fire burn itself out and only stomp it out if it starts spreading in dangerous fashion. Considering his Chapter's mutations he had grown quite used to it from many various agents of the Imperium, whether their tones be of fear or disgust, they were always able to take the heat though. "Believe it's worth noting that the moment any of us are sighted enemy informants will be a buzz with news of the Loyalist receiving Astartes support, which I'm confident enough to assume will make their leaders liable to either A: Dig deeper and hide or attempt to flee the planet. B: Start acting even more aggressive and reckless. These can all work in our favor if applied at the right time, but till then I'll place my backing to Tavec's plan, let us remain back ready to strike when he's made his connections. "
"All fair enough, Uncle," says Draconion, leaning in towards Feron to speak in a low murmur, "But they're going to need psychic support down there. With a bit of disguise and the odd mind-nudge here and there, I could certainly pass off as just another abhuman."
(OOC: nope, still don't work) Kira looks around at the others before she looks back at the chaplain. She is still as quiet as she was befrore. Her face still covered by the scarf. Only her dark eyes are clear to see and they are not that bad looking.
"You will be exterminated if you let an entire population pay for the failure of a handful!" Steinar roared in his typical stone-hard voice, ready to tear that man apart for just thinking of such extreme measurement. What next? Obliterate entire sectors because a little Ork popped out?!
"Sir since us guardsmen are smaller than these astartes me and a few other guardsman and that sniper could do a little sneaking/recon if it is your wish" feels a tad confident in what he just said and feels like the others will notice him
" i agree with steiner here, we might be sons of Dorn both, but he would disown you for such a way of thinking, i thought the crimson fists had the hearts in the right place" Dorallius said, surprised and saddened that someone of the same proginator could be so foolish and uncaring.
(Many Years Before) The cathedral hummed with the blessed chants of prayer, consumed by the holy words of faith and protection by the God-Emperor who watches over humanity with a firm hand and a strong will. The organs played with them in song, calming even the most grim of mind if not for the recent events that the child had undergone. In the seemingly endless empty chairs littering the large cathedral's interior. There he sat in blissed loneliness, letting the sweet sound try to suppress his troubled thoughts. Recent events had left him in disarray. No, he didn't want to think of it for too long. He was hear to find peace, not remain trapped in a prison of the past. One of the Imperial Priests, an elderly man who looked as if he was a preacher, walked up to him and quietly sat next to the single child. "I can see it in your eyes that something troubles you. I wouldn't be far to assume that you are the one the Orphanage is taking in?" The priest spoke with the soothing grace of the praying choir, regarding the child as a father would a son. The youth remained quiet, fixating his eyes on the artistic depictions engraved into the cathedrals glass windows near the location the preacher would normally be located. The priest picked on up his lack of words as a 'yes' it would seem, as he continued to speak to the boy. "What happened was a tragedy, but it was by the God-Emperor's will that you are still alive. You should consider that a blessing." Lysander could almost feel a single tear , of rage and sadness, began to emerge from his right eye. He felt angry at the world, at the universe. He had been told of how justice always won out, that in the end things would be set right as long as we remain pure of heart. But how was he supposed to believe that when his home, the closest thing to home he had ever known, was no more. The priest noticed his shift of feeling. "Child, we all have lost something over the course of our lives. It is a part of the path the God-Emperor has set for us. It molds us into who we are and what we shall become." Putting a restful hand on the child's shoulder, the priest smiled warmly. "Your parents are among the dead, but know that they died for you. They could see that you could be so much more, as the Emperor does." The child's tear finally shed itself free and dropped soundly to the stone floor below, as the child's mind was left confused as to what to feel. He wanted justice, to avenge his parents in someway. As the boy remained silent to the priest, the elder arose from his chair and went on his way as another man walked up to the child. An Arbite, clad in the armor befitting a Judge, walked the child's side and kneeled down to his leave. "It's time" was all the masked figure said before giving his hand out for the boy to take. The child waited a moment, as he looked eyes with his armored guardian, and finally accepted his fate... (Now) The stars shined brightly in the night sky, the full moon offering a holy radiance on the planet's surface below as Lysander hanged tightly to the Valkyrie's safety handles on the roof of the aircraft. The soothing sound of the Valkyrie's engines echoed across the sky and roared inside the ship as it descended to its target destination. The pilot looked back at the Arbite for a second, a look of curiosity on his face apparent. "Speak you mind, pilot. There are no secrets aboard." His voice was calm and level-headed, aiming to unnerve the pilot into speaking. "Well, milord, it is not everyday that I have to fly an Arbite anywhere, an Investigator at that, to meet an Inquisitor. If I may ask, why is your presence needed by the Inquisitor?" Lysander let loose a small smile from his lips at the young pilot's remark. "It would appear that the Inquisitor is looking for an inquisitive mind." The pilot chuckled at the Detective's reply, the joke succeeded in ending the man's nervousness towards the officer of the law. Good, for it had exceeded its welcome. It wasn't a long trip, as it felt as if only an hour had passed since he had come aboard that the pilot let known that their destination was in sight. The landing was quick and smooth, the mark of a skilled pilot he would say. Before he even knew it, the doors slowly unhatched from its dormant state and began to unravel the world outside for those housed within. Fresh air assaulted the sense, and Lysander breathed it in with as much vigor as he could before taking a step off the metallic flooring of the aircraft and into the rocky ground on the pavement below. A few Guardsmen stood at attention nearby before one, an officer given his attire, approached him. "You must be the Investigator. The Inquisitor has gathered the others and the briefing is already underway. If you would follow me, we should be there shortly." Lysander nodded in acknowledgement as he proceeded to do as instructed. Within the course of a few minutes, the officer walked close to the doorway leading into the room with which that others were already gathered. "Here we are. I'm sure the Inquisitor is waiting eagerly within." Lysander nodded once more. "Indeed. You have my thanks." With that, the Investigator entered the room.
Manner rolled his eyes, the Codex Astartes, what a joke. That worthless relic contained nothing but the most basic battle strategies and traditions any one with a history text book alone could find. Almost as outdated and full of propaganda as the Primer. Certain chapters had intelligent leaders and kept away from the trash. He was not here to cause problems though, and the Astartes mind wipes and Hypno therapy would not let the raven back down from his opinion. "I'm sure will see your skills on the field, Astartes." Ending the conversation, already one Astarte had upset his mood, no need to argue any more. He was here to do his job, nothing more. How he wished he had not been assigned here. Him and his acolyte could be doing anything more productive then, the arguing on the bridge.
Ooc: i must digress there, unless your inquisitor is the wierdest radical inquisitor ever. The codex and its writer litteraly saved the imperium in the wake of the Horus heresy. And inquisitors rather like chapters that follow it, since those that dont are like the spacewolves.
