Heef reached around to his back pocket peeling the wreckage of the chair of his backside in the process and withdrew a large battered tin. He prised open the container, a simple metal box coloured in dark green, and withdrew a cigar which was dwarfed in his meaty hand. Taking care with the small package of genuine tobacco, a small gift from the black market Ratlings in his previous regiment upon handing over some strange yellow metal, and opened his mouth. Placing the entire cigar into his maw and clamping his jaw shut on it sealing it fully inside his mouth.

As the inquisitor and the gunnery sergeant nodded in his direction Heef nodded back uncertainly and began to chew blankly, crushing the potent cigar into an eye watering paste between his molars. He nodded along with the general speech made by the inquisitor paying little attention to the long speech is was when he was ordered to do something that was when he had to pay attention. However when the Ork spoke he was jolted from his vacant nodding by the butchered gothic the beast he could barely understand. The Ogryn turned to Gorgutz as if seeing the Ork all over again, having forgot that the beast was sitting at the table entirely, bunching his fists as he recognised the xenos from the small book he’d been told not to lose, the one with not very many pictures. 

The stuff he had been read to from the book had detailed how to kill Orks but not how to deal with them when they are sitting in a chair and talking to you. Unsure of what to do, Heef simply stared at the Ork with vacant eyes, his hands clenching and unclenching as they reached for weapons that were currently sitting on the shuttle they were to depart on. He nodded at Gorgutz.

“What’s tha’ doin’ there?”