The comment from Watch Captain McGarrack him aback, but Alaric barely showed signs of it under his helmet as borrowed some of the Techmarine's tools to tighten one of the valves within the Narthecium's structure. He looked up slightly for a second and, despite the Storm Warden's boasting, simply nodded in reply, but offered no verbal confirmation. The hushed talk was all lies. He had not bested the Carcharodon. He had simply endured. Hwever, the Dark Angels of all people knew what a reputation could do when in the right, or wrong, hands, and so if they believed that he had bested Kyros, he had no reason to say otherwise. Suddenly, a large shadow was cast over their Thunderhawk, the access hatch darkened by the appearance of a humanoid figure, and from its sheer size, Alaric had his suspicions of who. Watch Captain McGarrack confirmed this a second later as he greeted the figure with an iconic Space Wolf name. The Dark Angels barely paid it any heed. For all the psycho-indoctrination and oaths he had undertaken, the Space Wolves and the Dark Angels were rivals first and brothers later. When the Space Wolf actually started addressing them, however, Alaric turned his gaze away from his tinkering and focussed on the massive Wolf, his deep maroon eyepieces reflected in the glowing lupine yellows of his counterpart.

As Alaric had thought, they would be under the command of an Inquisitor. He inwardly grimaced. Many a time, Inquisitors had accused the Dark Angels of bearing some sort of horrid secret, but few dared to act on it, for those that did had a terrible habit of disappearing. Nevertheless, Alaric made careful note of the plans, and his Corvus helmet listed the order of the mission, until they came into contact with the Righteous Indignation. With his departing words, Alaric bowed and slammed his breastplate with his armoured fist. "Praise be to the Emperor," his vox crackled out as he bowed his head in reverence, "may he find us worthy of his protection." With that, the reinforced hatch slid shut, and there was a hiss as the internal compartment pressurised. Ovrhead, Kyros' voice crackled through the comms, counting down until their departure. With little other recourse, the Dark Angel twisted the panel in his Narthecium shut and lightly tapped it with his palm, resealing it as he moved his fingers. He grimaced under the helmet. It still wasn't calibrated exactly to his liking, but it would have to suffice. Just as Kyros' voice read 2, Alaric slipped into his crash webbing and cnapped it shut, tugging the straps to tighten himself into position. Whoever had occupied this seat before him had either been a devastator or a terminator.

As the artificial gravity of the watch station fell away, Alaric could feel his body start to rise in the zero gravity, held only in place by strict discipline, mag boots and his crash harness. Leaning his head downwards, he let the hoo fall further over his helmet, until the only thing left visible was the white beak of his corvus helmet. Despite his catalepsean node kicking in, Alaric was rather tired from his trials and experiences over the previous few days. With finally nothing left to do, Alaric found his body slowly drifting into the sweet embrace of sleep...and would have, if it weren't for his iron discipline. Shaking off the vicious talons of slumber, Alaric remained conscious and vigilant, his mouth slowly moving in catechisms that would release stimulants into his body, stopping the feeling of sleep deprivation from coursing through his body. He could not afford to show weakness to his future brothers, not even for a second. Emperor save him, he would not let others misinterpret his drowsiness for weakness. As the hood floated off of his helmet, Alaric started to look around the chamber. Individually, he assessed each of the marines, and determined their parent chapters, or in the Storm Warden's case, known genetic faults. As an Apothecary, he was responsible to maintain his Brothers' health and genetic purity. The problem, however, was that he still ahd very little experience in dealig with the genetic stock anyone other than Dark Angels or their successor chapters, the other Unforgiven. Unconciously, his eyes drifted back towards the Guardian of the Covenant sitting beside him, his helmet hiding his gaze as he blankly stared at the Guardian. 

With a sudden jolt, Alaric fell back into his seat, artificial gravity once more gripping his body and forcing him down. "It seems we have reached the Dawn Star, brothers," Alaric said as he Sank back into the plastic seat, removing his helmet. "Smoothest ride I've had so far."