It was Chaplain's turn to smile now. "Well they did clone me but I cut the damned doppleganger in two. But now that you mention it, having Shin around would prove invaluable here. Sadly, I wasn't able to reach him, his current task leaves him impossible to join."

"he frequently comes to see me and drinks tea while reminising" as he replied to the chaplin he laughed "blood tallons it is" he then turned to angelos "brother techmarine will you help me with the fitting of the arms"

<Sirius Jules>

"Probably on a mission for sacred tea leaves." The Apothecary joked. "Also I have heard rumors of a renegade Blood Raven travelling the galaxy which fits pretty much the profile of Tarcain." Sirius shrugged slightly, but his concern rose if not perhaps an 'old friend' could have discovered this message as well.

OOC: After all you ppl let Tarcain live back then!

<Steinar Greywold>
The man nodded and smiled satisfied. The talk about Clones and such was all mystery to him, so he did not bother asking about it, but his eyes rested on the Librarian Dreadnought. Tempestus. Or Veritas Umbra, depending on how close one was to him. He was a Psyker, but even Thain respected him. In awe he stared intently on the resurrected Astartes. Last of his chapter, doomed to serve the Deathwatch for his home was forever gone.

<Angelous>

"Of course. If not me, then who else?" The Techmarine Blood Raven said somewhat cocky, but also just as random emphasis on what an important asset he is.

-Before-
Jean shook her head. "I'm afraid I didn't notice anything unusual. If I had I probably would have acted on it then. I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help to you."

-Later-
Jean thought for a moment before speaking, listening and examining every one of the Chaplain's words. "What if one of our situations gets bad? Perhaps the Marines are ambushed by a strong force or it turns out the headquarters has been lost to the dark powers. What then? Does one group go to aid the other or do we just make do?"

"Unnecessary." A sharp modulated voice raised.
Fenix was sitting cloer to the other new recruites. The abhumans on one side, and a death world savage on the other. Both forearms on the table, hands flat. Closest Fenix got to a non-hostile gesture, however ridged it appeared.
"Those of use sent to the capital will be armed to take the building down. I suggest a kill switch. As we arrive, we unload what appears to be supplies. When infact it is a large explosive. Should the situation turn south, we will have a barganing chip without fear of communication interference. I will be armed for whatever the situation demands, Chaplain. Standard rate a head?"
The bounty hunter said, looking up for the first time.

Jean shook her head. "As long as you understand you're under my authority. You won't be collecting any heads until ordered to. Nor will we be blowing anything up unless it is absolutely necessary." Jean stated, a tone of seriousness in her voice as she turned her head to face Fenix.

"Is that clear?"

Listening in silence to the briefing, Draconion casts an eye over the newcomers. A venerable dreadnaught from one of the Sanguinian Chapters, and a librarian to boot. A Marine Malevolent, the churlish Unforgiven Astartes from the infirmary, an Ogryn and a Ratling - ex-Guard, by the look of them - and another private 'freelancer' in the mould of Tavec...

...wait. A Marine Malevolent?

Draconion's eyes swivel back to Volorox. What was Marmaroth thinking, throwing one of those pirate marauders in with...just about anyone, let alone two Salamanders who had both fought at Armageddon? Still, no fistfights had broken out just yet, and he certainly had no intention of starting any. But this was another who would bear close watching.

Hearing talk of past lives and cloning, his ears prick up. This is certainly not your garden-variety Deathwatch command cadre, even by the highly unusual standards of the Ordo Xenos' Chamber Militant. Marmaroth would bear some researching himself - always useful to get to know one's commander, particularly if he evinced a highly unusual past.

Already foreseeing he would be benched for this mission, he instead waits for a lull in the talk to turn to whisper to Feron.

"Watch your back down there, Uncle. More possibilities for treachery than I can count, especially with that pirate going with you. Too many grudges carried over from Armageddon, and too many of his sort willing to act on them regardless of the situation at hand. And keep an eye on that Unforgiven over there, too. He's the one I told you about, who appears to have some sort of grudge against our Chapter. I was going to teach him a lesson in the cages once my sides knit, but it appears I will have to wait my turn."

Finding a chance to speak, he addresses Marmaroth.

"My Captain, if it is amenable, I would be glad to remain on call as part of a mobile reserve, to be deployed via teleportation or drop pod, should assistance be required. It is true my wounds have not yet fully healed, yet the shock of my sudden onset may make enough of a difference to a team in trouble to carry the day. In the meantime, I will continue to research St Pietros," he says, pronouncing the Imperial saint's name with a Hellenic inflection, "To determine the significance of his relics to the unholy ritual we interrupted on Sombor."

<Feron> <Briefing>
"Well then assuming there are no further hold ups or considerations I've only one more question to ask Chaplain. Do you have any idea if there is a specific grouping of foes or a certain name we must watch for that would of had the means to get your previous recording? At the very least what is the -worst- we might be expecting? " As he finished his eye shifted toward Volorox still not having heard any confirmation or denial of the call to join Second Squad. His mind wandered as well to the Dreadnought, the more and more he heard the Salamander was glad to have someone who shared a past with the Chaplain and might have more immediate insight on whatever was going on below.

<Feron to Draconian>
Letting his eyes roam whilst listening intently to Draconian's warnings Feron rolled his shoulders forward with a sigh. "I understand your trepidation friend, already had an abrasive meeting myself with our Tech-Marine due to a bit of hot hotheadedness on my part. So I will say this for the both of us. We must remember our duty, we may not always relish in it or enjoy the company but we have our oaths to fulfill. Tolerate at the least, embrace if you can, turn no blind eye to your Brothers but stand shoulder to shoulder. We will watch for traitors but cannot allow paranoia to overtake us, lest the real traitors have won and we cannot fulfill our duty to the fullest, in turn corrupting us. Never forget there is the ability to commit selfless acts and atrocities in us all---" He hesitated a moment, entire expression darkening like the void outside. "Remember the Dragon Warriors, remember Nihilan, none are above betrayal, even if they believe their intentions good. " Feron grunted setting his jaw a bit tighter as his memories drifted forward. It was a solid reminder of why they fought, what they fought and to remain sturdy in faith and suspicion.

(Before Briefing)

The Arbite sat alone in prayer, enjoying the quietude and silence that contrasted the insanity of their last mission. But his bliss was not to last as a single hand was placed on his armored shoulder, one of a servant rather than a priest or Guardsmen. As Lysander turned to see who it was, his single cybernetic eye locked onto its robotic limbs and immediately singled it out as a servitor. And by the look of it, the cybernetic worker was from the armory. Before he could address the servant with a gaze of curiousity as to why it had interrupted his prayer, the robotic voice of the worker cut him off. "Lord Angelous has requested your presence in the armory." The Investigator's confusion only grew, his eyebrow raising slightly as an indicator for his loss of words, but the servitor didn't expect an answer as it immediately turned around and made towards the exit.

Slowly the Arbite made to stand, kicking his Mastiff lightly as to awake it from its hibernation, and with a curiosity unmatched the Investigator followed after the mechanical humanoid to discover what this "Lord Angelous" wanted with him. Before long, the servitor had led him across the maze of hallways into the humid atmosphere of the armory. The forge was still heated to the extreme, recently having undergone use no doubt. But for what purpose, he wasn't sure. That said, it was not too surprising to assume that they had forged him some wargear as was often awarded to those of an Inquisitorial retinue. So when the Astartes that could be no one other than Angelous mentioned to him before looked over his shoulder while working on yet another piece of wargear, he quickly motioned for a few nearby servitors to hastily grab a hold of an Artificer Chest Plate laying on a table near the forge itself.

With a swiftness betraying their clumsy design, the servitors approached his position near the entrance and held the armor out before him. Lysander was a bit taken aback by its smoothness as his touched the surface in bewilderment, not expecting an upgrade of such grandeur. "Truly no finer work could have been blessed with such craftsmanship..." he muttered to himself in amazement as he took hold of the chest plate's edge and began the procedure of equipping it. As he did so, the Arbite was startled by how quick it was to put on the armor in thanks to the design. Further to his surprise was how easy it was to stride with it equipped, marveling at how flexible it was to move around in. He had to admit, considering its bulky design and appearance, that he had expected it to be heavier. With his admiration of the upgrade at an end, Lysander returned his coat of office to its natural position over his armor just before bowing slightly to the smiths responsible for its creation. "I am most grateful of this gift. The Imperium is blessed to have such masters of the forge among its humble flock."

- Rocky and Edd Briefing Room
The Abhuman duo arrived after unloading their possessions. Edd sat in a very comfortable chair. Most chairs couldn't support his weight and was used to standing during briefings. The Astartes sized chairs were just right for Edd. Not much of a talker, Edd did what he always did. Wait for orders and sit quietly.
Rocky was not very happy, his chair was too big and required a booster to sit above the large table line.
"With all due respect Lord Chaplain. I don't see why you need to send both Edd and myself to the surface. So long as there's someone to give him orders he's right as rain. Just don't let him near pointy objects, bodies of water, or fire. The guys a magnet for that stuff."
Rocky wasn't the field agent kind of rattling. Took to ships better than most people. If he has no choice he would go, to weasel out of danger and stay on the safe battleship.
Edd raised his hand. "Boss sir, when did da bone guy get off da planet? If we knew when et happened, then we could find who moved et. Roight?"