[center][h3]Mathias Montag[/h3][/center][hr]

There was comfort in the familiar, a sentiment that none from the lowliest of peasant to the High Lords of Terra could deny. For Mathias, being seated in the cargohold of an unmarked Imperial vessel destined for coordinates unknown upon orders unseen except by those at the highest level, this was familiar. He sat midway between the ramp and the cockpit with his body propped up by two clawed mechandrite pressed to the floor, having long since found his augmentations get cramped when pressed to the bulkhead, though he remained close enough to grab for the crash webbing if needs must.

Head bowed, his flesh and blood hand grasped was occupied grasping the bone of his servo skull and turning the automaton over.  

"Thrusters are operating within acceptable parameters." His voice was a terse burst of static, spoken purely for his own benefit then that of the other occupants. Along his cogitator gauntlet came rolling lines of runic script conveying the intricacies of his inert Servo Skull's diagnostic. It was unnecessary to do so, Mathias' ocular implants being serviceable for such simple acts of maintenance, yet he drew comfort from gazing at every integer. Such a tool held not even a glimmer of the glory found in the Boltor, nor was it such a wide spread arm as the lasrifle, but it's beauty remained as stark as the Cadian Gate carved into the bone's brow.

"I deem it worthy of operation!" Mathias' vox caster rose to a dramatic flair and he raised it overhead, whereupon a mechandrite claimed it in a reverent embrace of mechanical cilia. There it remained inactive to conserve power and assuage the concerns of those who would rather not have a known observation device in a secret facility before introductions are even underway. 

That, and for reasons beyond his comprehension, female guardsman find the tentacle-sporting man with a floating camera to be a might disconcerting, and he'd heard hushed beeps of Binary from Enginseers that the Sororitas were known to react rather violently when surprised by a wandering mechandrite overcome by curiosity for their power armor. Regretfully, both Enginseer and Augmentation were typically left in a state ill-fit for recovery.

Mathias released a sigh which vocalized itself as a wave of static as he looked up from hi musings and surveyed the cargo hold, thoughts drifting from one tangent to another. Barring the flight crew it seemed fair to assume those present not working to keep the void craft operable were those who'd received invitations much the same as he did. An absence of servos grinding and the shifting of ceramite plates was all one needed to declare the lack thereof of power armor- Astarates or Sororitas- which spoke as much to the roles of those present as it did to the desires of the Inquisitor. 

Much like the Servo Skull, they bore the hallmarks of an unassuming instrument ready to be plunged into the heart of Chaos. Had he lips to curl there would have been a smile on Mathias' face, but he'd have to settle for a synthesized cackle for the moment.