Oberyn’s body may have been in attendance at the meeting but his mind was elsewhere. He did not need to be a forge master to feel the confusion of the Warspite. It hummed through the bulkheads and the very deckplates, to those trained enough to sense it. The Warspite was an ungainly beast trying too orientate itself from a violent and sudden hurling through the warp like the rest of them were. True, It was a magnificent and ancient spirit, far older than any of the brothers on board, and this was but one of hundreds of translations made by its engines over the centuries of its service. But this was a particularly violent translation, And the engines needed to be soothed properly before they could be relied upon to jump again. A duty Oberyn would happily be attending to were it not for his involvement in this gathering. 

Still, he arrived on time. Precisely when he was expected to actually. Time his departure and travel perfectly to arrive at the meeting neither later nor early. He supposed it would actually be good for him to arrive to the command bridge anyway, to view the informations and incoming data streams for himself to better understand what was putting so much stress on the soul of the vessel. 

“I have come brother chaplain.” Oberyn remarked shortly as way of greeting, and a stiff bow as offered pleasantries. The keepers of the forge were not ones for formalaties and ritual beyond what were extended to the omnissiah and his machines. “Though my hands are needed elsewhere. The Warspite struggles with this change and I must sooth it's pain lest it begin to feel neglected. Or it grows too agitated.” Neither was a particularly attractive prospect. Either the machine became moody and unresponsive or would start to turn it's confusion to frustration and anger, and find small ways to lash out said frustrations.