Atellus visibly flinched- fortunately, no one was around to see it. He [i]hated[/i] these neural implants; hated them worst of all and more than anything. On multiple occasions he had attempted to come up with ways to disable them- but to no avail. He pointedly fished out his hand held net interface and brought up the chat. He activated the comm and merely said "Right away sir."

All his grievances took the back burner to expectation. Without a doubt, he was going to finally be sent out on mission again- and he was ready. With practiced ease he made his way to his room and quickly got out of civvies and into duty uniform. He left his kit staged by the door where it always was, but he holstered the pistol he always carried in uniform- loaded but with no round in the chamber.

Within 15 minutes, he politely knocked on Vel Astrano's door and entered without waiting for acknowledgement. He fiddled with the vanguard sigil pinned to the side of his field cap as he came in, obviously anxious to hear what the sentinel monitor had to say. Skipping the formalities, he nodded deferentially. "Vel Astranos, what can i do for you this fine day?" he says this plainly, expectantly, but not unkindly- his normal disdain for the other species of the collective absent as usual around his fellow sentinels.