As the Sister walked over and asked for a word, Stukov resisted the urge to remark or say anything to her, instead taking a seat to being an inspection of his autogun while she began talking and attempting to defend herself on the matter of how he was wrong. The problem with her first statement of not being on a high horse was, first off, the way she acted was not indicative of that when they first crossed paths. Tone and actions had implied differently, and maybe she was not like that typically, but first impressions were powerful and dangerous things. He saw pride and a high horse mentality from that, and for all he knew it was going to crop up again. Reminded him too much of superiors who tried to seem reasonable behind doors but acted like hard ass superiors when it really mattered, and he was not interested in playing that sort of game. Pulling the slide back on the empty autogun, he made sure it was a smooth action while she continued finishing that thought and said nothing, at least giving her the chance to finish in full before he would say anything in response. The action was smooth as she began on knowing indeed what such things such as Dark Eldar and other pits of torture and death sounded like.

Stukov wasn't going to play a game of one up manship in trauma and hard times. He wouldn't pretend to know having saw everything, Daemons and Dark Eldar, that was what he knew. And as far as he knew, they were the greatest threats to the Imperium of Man. He would not pretend to know the Tyranid or a family lost to the warp, not blood relation at any rate. As far as he knew, his ship was his family and that meant watching it get devoured was the same. But there was no point getting emotional over such things, it was the fate of man. Die in service to the Emperor and fighting the enemies of Man, grow too old to be useful outside of training or, far more likely, find one's self in the service, knowingly or unknowingly, of the enemies they had sworn to hard to fight. It reminded him of an old adage his mentor had, those who fought and hunted the warp tended to, when caution waned, to become little better than what they had stood so long against. Her glare did not so much as move Stukov, as he spared her a glance to see if she still fully intended to continue as he slung the autogun over his shoulder and drew his Naval Pistol, starting a check on it as well.

The Armsman sighed quietly as Sis claimed her actions just or correct as she had seen them breaking into the museum and chose to come after them and investigate on her own. Wasn't that, far as he knew, jurisdiction of the local Adeptus Arbites to come knocking and investigate any reports of crime like that? And while he had been sorely tempted to, he could not solely pin blame all on her. Smiles rather loud response didn't help, nor should the lot of them have left the entry way unsecured to such a degree someone could simply waltz in after them. Then again, Boss and his power sword did a number on the locking mechanism, to put it kindly, so that was not a terribly easy thing to do. As she finished, he released the slide and let a round chamber in the pistol, putting it on safe and holstering the weapon as he did the same for his autogun, loading and putting it on safe before reslinging it as the Sister made her last statement on medical attention, having no intention of asking her for medical aid. Not like there was much that could be done in this safe house for coughing up blood, which wasn't consistent and probably just a side effect of a helmet transferring force through to his gut and bottom two ribs, far as he could feel, everything was still intact anyways.

Sticking his head through the doorway, he put his final say in the matter, neutral in tone. [color=9e0b0f]"Trauma stories appreciated, Sis, but first impressions are a dangerous and powerful thing. I'll concede blame can't be all yours and you couldn't know about the statues, but far as I know, typical response to apparent law breakers is call the Arbites, not barge in yourself. Far as I know, Sisters don't get to execute the law as they see fit on a planet. You enjoy your nap, then, holler if something comes up."[/color] Stukov would sit down to do what he could for his apparent injuries, mostly grab some meds that would help clot any internal injuries, from what the instructions and warnings said, and took them before starting a roving patrol of the safehouse, keeping his autogun in hand and an eye out for trouble. No sense letting an apparent moment of safety lull them into being easily ambushed, and having an extra hand walking the halls and watching for trouble couldn't hurt. Besides, who knows, perhaps something would come up that would plop a lead right in their collective laps. [color=9e0b0f]"And perhaps the Emperor would see fit to show up and kick the sorry asses of everything hostile in this damn universe, putting us all out of work...."[/color] The armsman muttered to himself as he walked, vigilant and listening for anything that sounded out of place.