Once it was confirmed the Judge was indeed supposed to be here, and only then, did Ansgar lower his hellgun from being centered on the Arbites male. While most wouldn't have expected much when firing on carapace without things like the space marine Bolter or weapons dedicated to punching through armor, the Krieger had personally put such men down, carapace clad and even in power armor, with well placed shots and a bit of blessing from the Emperor. The latter targets, though, usually required sheer volume or well placed shots against the weaker points in the armor, something that was studied and briefed extensively by the survivors of the Krieg born regiment as they continued pressing forward. Every encounter costed men, but rewarded in knowledge in how to fight against such targets. Of course, with the Sister chiming in about how the defenses and Inquisitor herself were adequate in defending themselves and this place, the Krieger started getting this feeling that he wasn't going to get to avoid whatever social or pleasantries that were going to try and be foisted off upon them in the city. Sure enough, he was given a direct order to head into the city with the rest of the group, which was met with the stoicism and utter lack of reaction that the Death Korps so oft displayed.

[color=598527]"Ma'am."[/color]

The one word spoke of obediance to the order, as the trooper always would do. Orders were to be given and obeyed, given by the superiors, obeyed by the rank and file. It was a simple equation that somehow was mucked up and ruined by less disciplined forces. The Krieger had been rather quietly hoping that he would not have to attend to this departure for the city, not with the way the group had been interacting already. Considering events on board the main vessel? One should not have blamed him for hoping to avoid further potential for such things. Of course, one of the two main instigators, the one psyker that wasn't quite as overt a pyromancer, rather seemed to manipulate the warp in more irritating and less predictable manners, mentioned arguing with the Sisterhood to be futile. Like he intended to argue with the orders of a superior, and he grabbed his satchel of explosives, slinging it under the power pack for his hellgun and walking out, shooting off a comment towards the psyker as he boarded. 

[color=598527]"I don't argue orders, ma'am. I follow them, without need for concussive separation."[/color]

Leaving that comment in the air for anyone to remark on, Ansgar strapped into the transport, securing himself and his kit just in case that they would hit turbulent weather. The fact they were flying into a city for a few errands, not into a warzone, meant nothing to the Krieger. Warzones could break out without warning, they tended to, it was rather rude of them really. But such was the realities of war, one was never ready for it. They could merely be as close as possible to being ready, and improvise the rest. Once again, if not for anyone watching him strap him, he might as well be still and unliving, or perhaps a pile of equipment. He hated flying, too little control. Chimeras and other ground transport was better, usually, since they could use vehicle mounted weapons to fight back. Air transport? Typically not so much. Which meant hang on for dear life and pray to the Emperor that, if you didn't make it, you didn't realize you didn't until you were before the Emperor himself for judgement.