Quel was never one for ceremonies, he usually preferred the company of those whose words came from twisting engines and circuitry rather than the will of a mind. However, something about the corpses that decorated the bridge and farther Arabar's words pleaded to an unfamiliar side within Quel. His conversion as well as his peace, his humming whispering peace, they motioned the start of a change within the Warpsmith that he felt he was not prepared to accept. Regardless, as he stared down at the new brand that adorned his stomach and with farther Arabar's words still fresh in his mind, he felt closer to the one named Nurgle and whether this was a mere illusion of his chaos tainted mind or not, he found calming in this feeling. The Warpsmith has many questions for the farther, however, the Warpsmith had still yet to properly prove himself to Arabar, or so he felt. During the previous battle his gaze was more finely locked on the damage that spread throughout the bridge rather than being locked on his shifting enemies. "I beg my leave Farther Arabar, my questions are ones for another time." Quel reasoned as he knelt down in Arabar's direction.

Stepping back to his feet Quel turned around and bathed in the scene before him, blood, flesh, guts, damaged armour, pieced steel, torn cables, sparking servos and damaged consoles. It were as if Nurgle himself has delivered a gift to the Warpsmith, a toy he could occupy himself with to further cease the light whispers that remained, even in Arabar's presence. Taking a deep breathe as his twisted and tainted servo-arms uncoiled from their position on Quel's back, they darted around in the air eagerly, each in the direction of a different type of damage that had been done to the bridge of the battle barge.

First walking to the consoles that remained lit Quel forced his presence past any slaves that attempted to continue their duty, with a deft hand and learned touch Quel pressed various buttons triggering a series of dummy commands, none that would interrupt the flight mind you, that would return different results depending on what was damaged. With his goals in mind Quel weighed the severity of the damage around him before he turned to a damaged console deemed quite important from his assessment, a grin ran across his face as his inner monologue thundered over the whispers, '[i]Killer's Heaven[/i] I shall quell your sparks and errors, patience.' Viciously Quel's servo arms sprang into action with fiery hisses and sparked buzzes as they heated metal to metal and stripped damaged wiring.