Nergüi finished the last of his devotional prayers and got back to his feet, and probably would have stretched himself out if he had been a normal human, listening to Aviza with the most imperceptible nod of his covered head; as they walked and spoke, his senses stretched to their limits, the sound of a shell-casing dropping resounding in his hearing, he kept half his mind on where he was and the other half on necessary tactical calculations.

[i]Chaos[/i]...it left a bitter taste in the mouth, and an aching in the mind, but he took this enemy as seriously as any other - if not more so.

[color=00aeef]"I wondered where all the citizens had gone, not even Nova had known, but now it makes sense, simply below, into the darkness, taken by chaos, waiting untill the Orks have played their part and could be disposed of, even used to feed their forces. Inquisitor Solares would have known about this, she of all would have sensed the forces of Chaos before any of us, before even entering the system, so why were we not informed? why were we not informed about about their presence? I fear for her, for those who are under her command, and I mostly I fear for our purity in the eyes of the Emperor. If my suspicions are true, there will be much to answer for, not only by the inquisitor, but also ourselves. Once we arrive at the Titan Forge, I feel that our questions will be answered in full."[/color]

This 'outburst', so that was what it was in the case of the usually quiet Sister, as least in his estimation, caused the Apothecary to give a short burst of laughter within his helmet as he crunched over loose rubble underfoot. Let her and the pskyer look to their own purity, the witch especially susceptible to the forces of the Ruinous Powers (he had seen it happen), he was a stalwart servant of the Emperor and one of his Space Marines.

The sight of a Valkyrie was a welcome one, distracting him momentarily from otherwise morbid thoughts of Daemons and traitors, the White Scar having always appreciated Imperial engineering and - although he would of rather had a bike between his legs - the prospect of once more taking to the air like a hunting kestrel on the breeze of the steppes moved something within him.

For now he tagged on behind and to the left of his missions superior, twin hearts beating at the expectation of a hunt against a worthy foe.