Check the psychic powers on the Manifest under skills and psyker powers. If it is in the description then yes.
SGT Kroll - Catches up with the group. "Commissar, which direction are we going? I have the magic key to open any doors for us." Commissar Rackham - Examining the map, lights up another cigar. "We need to split into two groups, one to the control room the other to start clearing the engineering bay floor by floor. Since you have a key Sergeant, take a few people with you to the control room and lock it down. I will start the cleansing down below. Keep us informed of locations through the video monitors."
Airman Varnias Wolfe Varnias had strayed towards the back of the briefing room, watching the Inquisitor's speech with eager eyes. He was a pilot of His Most Holy Imperial Navy, with that was the glory and dignity of an experienced void and atmospherics pilot, ensuring that the mudsloggers didn't get gunned down by that which they couldn't touch. He sincerely hoped the landing went well and that they would deploy atmospheric fighters soon after, the hotshot pilot ached to soar the unfriendly skies with a Thunderbolt again. To dispense His wrath with both las and autocannon, against those that flew and those that crawled. He had made ready to speak with the Aide Maribel when the bomb had gone off, throwing him from his feet. Shaking the miniature Marauder Bombers from his vision, he grabbed his service laspistol and made after the Guardsmen. This wasn't his field of expertise but so long as the Naval Pilot drew breath, he would rain death down on the enemies of Mankind.
Naval Armsman Tavec Aetius He had been on a patrol of the outer walkways, close the hull exterior of the ship. His duty was to ensure the safety of the ship's occupants, to safeguard the lives of His servants in the Imperial Navy. Men who commanded the Emperor's guardians in the void, his spears in the stars, monolithic cathedrals with weapons to scour life from any who would threaten His Imperium. While there were never threats as serious as the one now, if there was something that he had plenty of time for, it was training. There weren't many who could last long in a duel with him and his strong arm. It had earned him the power axe resting across his back and the Godwyn Pattern Bolt-Pistol at his hip. So when Tavec Aetius stormed into the hallway and saw men he had worked with and protected for nearly half a decade now, retribution was the first thing on his mind. The second was the Commissar and his men entering the Engine Room. With weapons drawn. Pulling the Power Axe from it's brace on his back and charging the entrance, hoping to take to the fore he shouted out, "Firearms down! You want to make this situation worse?"
The walkway to the control room was heavily scorched from repeated las impacts and what appeared to be something heavier. Due to the heavy smoke belching from the refineries to the engines down below, it was impossible to discern more than five feet in any direction. A single door with a massive glowing hole in the center marked the entrance to the control room, two armsmen lay mutilated at its entrance but what lay inside was much worst. Every control panel and cogitator had been smashed or destroyed, the only ones still in any working condition showing a very grim situation. A single robed enemy lay inside amidst a pile of dead skitarii and tech priests, a mechandrite whipped to face the intruders pointing a meltagun at them as the figure slowly turned to face them. "You have made a grave mistake attempting to intervene here. No one can stop what is to come....and you fools won't ruin anything more. Now come quietly to your deaths in the name of Alpharius." __________________________________________________________________________ A group of indentured deckhands littered the first approach downwards, their bodies torn up by what almost looked like a chain weapon but from the way their corpses had very little left to identify, they could have been eaten for anyone to guess. As the group approached the next level down, a large hail of gunfire followed by silent figures in black body armour armed with pole arms and axes, assailed them. The platform opened up onto a wide viewing deck from which one could see the ferocious fighting on the decks below as well as another robed figure from the bridge assault who was working frantically at a nearby power modulator. Whatever the person was doing...it couldn't be good.
-Homes "Sargent i will head with you to the control room if we can get to the controls we will be able to see who and where these heratics are." homes said as she went with the Sargent with her power in her hand. At the control room "So a servant of alpha legion is here. seemed quite possible with the nature of this inflitration." she said she quickly went backwards into cover out of range of the melta gun she fired her bolt pistol several times at the figure -Kilroy. "I am heading with you commisar we shall purge these enemies from this existence and send them to the emperor ." kilroy said with a shovel in his hands. At the ramps "So commisar which ones do you want to take?" kilroy ask he had a shovel in 1 hand and a las pistol in another. he had his laspistol pointed down as he looked over a crate he fired at a man wielding a axe.
SGT Kroll - Control Room - Fires his revolver at the meltagun the robed figure was pointing in his direction and retreats back into the walk way. Commissar Rackham - Lower Levels - "Take your time to aim and close the distance." He says as he strides confidently closing the gap, he shoots the figure in the chest with his bolt pistol and the trains it on the next preparing to hack them down with his power sword
Airman Wolfe Cursing as he ducked back behind the corner of the hallway - Why can't I be where I belong, in the seat of a Thunderbolt? -, Wolfe peeked around the corner for a split second before a burst of bolts from his Las-pistol towards the control room and the menacing Tech-Priest holding it. It was at this moment that Wolfe truly missed the crushing g-forces, the screaming air friction, the thundering autocannons that shook the frame of the bullish heavy fighter. Many Naval servicemen thought of Naval Engagements as the civilized face of warfare, unlike the trenches and meatgrinders of the Guard. Of course, many of them weren't pilots with the split-second decisions and VTOL maneuvers that could see a pilot blacking out, flight suit or not. A million different ways to die and each moving faster than anything on the ground. Regardless, if there was one place Airman Wolfe wished he could be, it was in the cockpit.
