As the transport docked in, Loki rose from his seat and walked over to where Ry'thss was and knelt in front of her. They were face to face now, the man bringing his only a couple of inches in front of hers. For a moment, he was silent as he delicately touched her chin just below her lips with his index finger. The touch lasted for only a second, the man aiming for the sweet spot of the nerve system (which at least was there for most of humans, who knows what Pelager feels). And it was gone. Torturer rose on his feet, his voice sweet as honey. "All in due time, my dear. All in due time." With that said, he turned on his heels and walked out of the Valkyrie.
As Inquisitor snapped at the strange duo Xenobiologist Zeth bowed slightly with his right hand held over his waist:"As you wish Inquisitor."spoke Zeth making an accent on the last word.He turned toward the mutant that stood still beside him. Astropaths...i always longed for a sample of his/her gene-seed!thought Zeth as he gazed upon the tall and slim figure of the Astropath.He turned toward the bowles of the Valkyrie and saw the rest of the Inquisitor`s retinue. A delight to the eyes!Zeth removed his hood...revealing a handsome and clean faced,framed with shoulder lenght charcoal-black hair.He didnt had any visible augmentations done upon him expect mechadendrites,which were quite obviously prodruding from his back.Four tentacles.He believed that some power in the Flesh remained and unlike his collegues in the Cult Mechanicum he believed that throught the power of the Flesh...the idea to get closer to the Machine God is still viable. Two aliens...one of the unsanctioned.Kroot...Tau play-things and meat-shields.He`ll need a sample of his blood.Other one captured Zeth`s gaze with her beauty ,a Pelager. Zeth turned to the right side...hoping Pelager didnt saw him starting for a moment and saw an imuvable statue of iron and steel.The very relic of Mechanicum,Ordo Reductor he believed he hails from.A Thallax! OOC:So something like this...just instead of the Axe it is a Chainsword and instead of Servo-arm there are four mechadendrites without the grillie on his mouth.He is a Xenobiologist he believes in the power of the Flesh instead of Machine.Thus the mofo who calls me "machine man" gets dissected and his/her private parts used for future study...
His touch had an aftereffect. Ry'thss felt her lip tingle slightly, a sensation she found annoying. That Torturer had no sense of personal space. Maybe that's what he meant; Lukke on the Trader's ship often told her she had no sense of personal space, either, usually when she clung on for dear life during some particularly horrifying landings. When he was gone, the Pelager bit her lower lip to stop the tingling, successfully. A pleased sigh on her lips, she got up, gathered her numerous slates and moved out, a new data-slate in her webbed hands already, studying some xeno language and cursing that there were no nice water tanks in these ships - her skin was dry already. It wasn't lethal, but it sure wasn't pleasant. Her gills twitched in annoyance and she moved towards her quarters.
(Thoren Corax) Unstrapping the security harness from around his chest, Thoren arose from the confines of his seat and stood sharply at attention to the Inquisitor before saluting respectively. After a second or two had passed he lowered his hand and, having fully addressed the proper military formalities to his superior, turned to the Valkyrie's exit and began to make his way to the armory. Beyond his military grade combat knife that he always carried around as a personal defense weapon, the rest of his gear was stationed in the capital ship's arsenal chambers with the rest of the weapons onboard. There the quartermaster maintained that they were clean and in good condition for use in combat deployments. While he made to the armory with a quickened stride, he could see the uneasy glances shot his way from the Imperial crew aboard. Not surprising, since his armor and skull painted helm was designed to represent the death the Jackals brought to the battlefield. While he had been among them for some time now, they never seemed to grow used to his presence. Still, he cared not for the distancing nature that others gave to him. What they thought and did was not of his concern. Upon his eventual approach of the armory, Thoren made for his personal weapons locker that had been specifically assigned to him as per inquisitorial request. The quartermaster sat calmly behind an office desk stationed in the front of the room, from where it appeared his attention was fully immersed in an effort to finish up some paperwork. What purpose such work entitled was beyond his interest, most likely something such as keeping tabs on the amount of weapons available and if anything needed to be replaced or restocked. Yet it was still a position that needed to be done and one that deserved the same level of respect as any other military official. Leaving the man to go undisturbed, Thoren walked over to his locker and quickly dabbled his fingers on the security mechanism set in the center of the door that guarded his gear. Upon entering the unlock code, the machine let loose the sound of success as the door snapped open slightly. Opening the door, Thoren immediately grabbed his Hotshot Laspistol and housed it into the appropriate holster on his belt after brushing his trench coat aside for the briefest of moments. He then grabbed his Hotshot Lasgun and the laser Power Pack that came with it. With unparalleled haste, the Scion fastened the Pack onto his back and attached the Hellgun to it as to free his hands up while he traversed about the various corridors of the ship. Finally, he grabbed some power packs for his Hellpistol and put them into ammo pouches on his belt alongside a few frag and krak grenades. After he was satisfied with his combat gear equipped on his person, Thoren closed the locker door and made for the combat training chambers. After having been without a training season since they had departed the ship, he felt that practice was his top priority before any other obligation was to be fulfilled.
<Cha'ka> The Kroot stares at the Sister for a second, a look of surprise on his face. He had expected a threat, or a warning perhaps, but genuine curiosity? From a member of the Imperium? He never would have expected that, particularly from one of their holy orders, but nonetheless, she was being polite, so at the least he could return that. "My history? Or my opinion on the mission?" the Kroot asked
-Selina- "Your history. I am quite intrigued about you, to be honest. There must be a reason you are working with the Imperium?"
