Alexander Atreides silently picked his way through the rubble of the crumbled and ruined Imperial defenses, the Warpsmith having more than broken their wills, while the officer's death had only hastened such things. He had indeed picked up on the message that the Traitor Marine had broadcasted, since his own suit's built in vox was perfectly functioning and operational, and noted some of the equipment he had set aside. He walked over to the equipment, noting several grav chutes and claimed one for himself, rigging it on under his cloak for now, it wouldn't be doing him much good until he needed to get somewhere fast, the expressway down type of fast. A useful piece of tech, really, and one that he figured it wouldn't hurt to have. Better in his hands than those of some fool or a Stormtrooper, for that matter. But, the remaining chutes were of no concern to him now, as he turned and followed after the Traitor Marine, opting to draw his laspistol for these corridors, instead of potentially wasting his rifle ammo on worthless foes.

Sure enough, they found fleeing arsmen and rates, which the Marine wasted no time laying into with his knife, carving them apart and charging through them. Alexander kept to the shadows, only picking off those that seemed to try and organize their peers, or had a real means of harming or, in his case, viably discovering him. Of course the slaughter was quick, easy, and over as fast. Which was not much of a shame, this kind of clean up fighting had no real interest for a hunter, he preferred foes that strutted about all high and mighty, full of themselves. They made right proper kills, and were worth the figurative notch on his rifle. But these fools were not, dying en masse to the knife and laspistol, when the latter needed to be used, while the former cleaned up rather nicely, and saved ammo for both of them. Good, that suited the renegade just fine, more rounds for real targets then.

Alexander examined his surroundings again as he entered the medical wing behind the Marine, as he spoke and worked on turning the fool imperial to Tzeentch. More power to them, the renegade figured, might make their jobs easier or harder, depending on what that Lord of Lies considered doing. But that was the Marine's business, and while the renegade did consider having these wounded executed, he had not the means or time to do so, so he left them to be dealt with by the oncoming Chaos horde. Probaby would have begged him to shoot them, if they knew what was storming this ship as the medical personnel worked to save their lives. Alexander readied his rifle rather than his pistol, following a bit behind the Marine, flitting from shadow to shadow, determined to avoid detection and get the drop on whatever fools they were coming after, even if the Marine blew it. Oh well, he would live regardless of his fate, so with that thought, he tailed the Warpsmith, scanning his surroundings constantly, rifle at the ready and wired, expecting something to go wrong at the drop of a dime right now.