Stukov made note of the one who had come in after him, citing a lack of time sense as the key to the reason of his tardiness. Interrogation was above his pay grade, he wasn't kept aboard to try to torture or extract information out of daemons, xenos, heretics, or whatever might come through the next hull breech, or he would run into boarding a hostile vessel. No, that particular skill set did not have a purpose in his line of work. But if it would serve well for the Inquisition and its purposes, Stukov didn't really like the idea of torture, although he would not say so. It wasn't his place to decide ethics and morals in this kind of universe, not after seeing what the Dark Eldar had wrought by their own hands against the innocents many years ago. He could still remember clearly what he had seen that day, so he did realize that torture would not sit well with him then, and now was just another reminder. Not after those dark days years before he ever would have even realized he would be serving on an Inquisitorial vessel, let alone directly under an Inquisitor.

Stukov quietly poured himself a cup of recaff, since it didn't have tanna. Shame, he had gotten his hands on that once and had always hoped to come across it again. Who knows, perhaps this Paradise planet would have some he could appropriate for Inquisitorial purposes. But that was neither here nor there as he drank from the cup, bitter tasting recaff all too familiar as it burned down his throat. Probably should have let it cool off, but no sense trying to regret that sort of thing. But as he drank he took one of the Greensheets, as they were referred to, and read over it while glancing at the holo of the Paradise planet. Well and truly above his pay grade. He didn't even own any attire that wasn't spare combat fatigues, he never had the need for it. Some void gear that was in the emergency lockers, but that wasn't really his, it was just part of the kit one might need to repel boarders. So acquiring new, appropriate attire for the bodyguards of some rich visitor and friends would be necessary. But he hardly got his question in first, as others threw their own two cents in.

Interrogator fellow asked about assets on the ground, name of the island they were going to, and seemed rather unhappy with the idea of going in blind. Dropping into a situation blind was almost part of his job requirement, so it didn't bother him one bit. Going into a compromised part of a ship, friendly or hostile, you couldn't really know what to expect. One lance battery might have heretic gun crews, next cargo deck might have the walls literally lined with daemons waiting to feast. So going into a paradise planet without information was not nearly as disconcerting as others might find it to be. [color=9e0b0f]"Can't know everything in advance, Interrogator. Plan for the worse, pray for the best, and expect to enact the worse case plans."[/color]

The psyker promptly deflated that little statement with her offer to, what had she said, scry the planet's sphere or some such witchcraft? And a page leaving ripples in the warp made more sense than he would have liked to initially admit. Something powerful would usually rip through Gellar fields anyways, so something resonating in the wrong space that the woman could detect made sense in his mind. Better that than channeling some greater daemon and ripping three fourths of the crew, directly and indirectly, to shreds again. He really didn't need to relive that either. Not with the mission they were being presented with right now. Asking after the age of the guardsmen being taken could match up to a pattern, he supposed. Again, he was no detective nor spymaster, he was an Armsman, give him a tangible threat and he could handle it. This was going to be a learning experience, to say the least. [color=9e0b0f]"Forgive the ignorance, psyker, but what would the strain of sweeping an entire planet be like? I don't want to see another daemon come crawling out of your poor head and rip the ship a new ass, most certainly not something I want to see happen again. No offense intended, just a security consideration."[/color]

The pop attracted Stukov's attention over to the soldier. Armageddon veteran, if his memory of attire was accurate, he had heard talk about the massive war between Imperials and Orks. Considering the reaction to the word Orks, and his destruction of the glove from the glance he got, probably bionics of some sort. Hell, he had lost the lower half of his leg to daemons, had it replaced with a sturdy yet simple bionic, so that kind of response was more than understandable. He had never dealt with orks, but the stories were grim. His question was right in line with what Stukov had been thinking initially, which was a relief to be sure, so he finally got in his question after having listened to the man finish his question in full. [color=9e0b0f]"Along that line of thinking, I don't own anything outside of spare combat fatigues. I won't speak for the others, but if we are going to blend in as visitors and said visitor's bodyguards, we'll need disguises since uniforms are not terribly concealing."[/color]