Stukov did not like how this place felt. It wasn't just his gut instinct this time, which was a blaring alarm for all it was warning him this place was trouble, rather, something about this place just [i]felt[/i] wrong, on a base level that he was unaware of before. Damn powers creating more problems, apparently. Good to know this place was another den of evil, in a more insidious and underhanded manner granted, but he had it pegged for it to some degree or another. But as the two women wandered off to dance, the psyker armsman glanced over at Boss as he answered how they were going to proceed with things. Pair off, be inconspicuous, and see about what they could dig up and trade information over dinner with the two women folk. Rather odd that Sis had hauled off Smiles to dance. Granted, she probably was rather irritated with him right now over his reaction to the Cannoness. That would be a point of contention, since his rather limited understanding and dealings with the Adeptus Sororitas had left him with a bad taste in his mouth. For all intents and purposes, as far as Stukov understood, the bunch should not even exist. Violation of some [i]Decree Passive[/i] or another if not for some old Saint arguing that they were 'Women' under arms and exempt. Load of bullshit, far as the Armsman was concerned.

Their gender wasn't Stukov's issue with the Sisters of Battle, rather, it was how they acted. Pious zealots that spent more time praying and stomping about being generally irritating and holier than thou then actually being useful. His worst trip with a ship was when transporting a detachment of Sisters to some warfront or another. Guard regiments would typically, when not drilling, at least have auxilaries assigned to help with security and other jobs that made their added burden on ship resources less taxing. Not the Bolter Bitches, though, they just sat around praying, cleaning their gear, and getting pissy if someone so much as anywhere within their sight without their holy, expressed permission. Even if that was some poor sods assigned security route to ensure no stowaways or hidden threats that, unfortunately for the poor junior armsman that Stukov had assigned to the task, took him through the area delegated to the Sisters. No, Stukov had no love for the Sisters in general, nor the Ecclesiarchy. He firmly believed in the Emperor, and that was that. No rituals, no fancy customs or haughty outlook, and he did [i]not[/i] need some damn priest or Sister going nuts over him not knowing the third passage to some holy text or another that a local cathedral to the Emperor demanded all faithful to know.

No, Stukov had issue with the Sisters, and now he was in a position he could actually do something about it. And by the Emperor, he would not let them get away with being so damn superior towards other faithful servants of the Emperor. Power armor, flamers, and bolters didn't make them any better at serving the Emperor than a regiment of Armsman boarding chaos vessels to prevent the ground forces from getting bombed into oblivion. But he digressed as he brought his thoughts, running thousands of miles a second, back into focus as Boss asked about the force saber on his hip. [color=9e0b0f][b]"Not really, Smiles was not kind enough to fill me in on technical details. Only that I would get used to it in time. Apparently resonates with my...[i]condition[/i] and acts like a power weapon, far as I understand beyond that from general knowledge. I wouldn't sweat the details Boss, I've used everything from a Dark Eldar splinter rifle to Imperial crew served weapons, and various things in between. I can figure out a strange fucking sword if needed."[/b][/color] What Stukov did not realize was that he was still talking to Boss through the vox, and not speaking out loud, so while he looked around, his mouth was not moving nor was any words coming out of it.

Looking over the surroundings, Stukov felt a sense of dread boring into him. Something was wrong, paying him too much mind, and he had this feeling things were not going to go according to plan. He didn't know what, how, or why, and even if he had spotted Lucia above in her black armor, he would not have recognized either. A large portion of the last raid was a blur, and cutting through their ranks in his haste to reach the leading heretic meant he would not readily recognize the armor of their kind. But he did subvox, as he was calling voxing others without speaking, again, speaking of his concern. [color=9e0b0f][b]"Boss, I'm not convinced this is going to go well. Too little we know, too much they most likely do. I have a bad feeling about all this."[/b][/color]