The former Imperial Guard Sargeant had worn his best attire for the meeting with the Rogue Trader. He had woken up a number of hours earlier this day just to prepare his parade uniform and even used his fanciest and most expensive lubricant on his bionic arm. Goose looked at the dark blue blazer that proudly displayed the accolades he had earned in his years of service. A number of ribbons decorated the breasts of the coat including a handful of medals. The Eagle Ordinary, The Medallion Crimson, The Steel Aquila, and The Hellhound's Skull. All of which he held with great pride and honor. All but one. He carefully grabs and inspects the one medal he wished he never had. The Tripple Skull medal. A reminder that he was one of the last hellhounds of the 78th. He quickly shook off the thought and pinned it none the less on the blazer. This was the first and possibly the only time he would be able to make a good impression with the Rogue Trader as well as the others that the Rogue Trader had requested to meet.

After Goose had finally polished all of his medals and straightened his coat he decided that he looked and felt prepared for the meeting. That is until he saw the clock. He was lost in preparation that he failed to realize that he had only half an hour left to reach the suite. [color=steelblue]"Ah crap."[/color] and with that, the man dashed out of his quarters and into the halls of the space station. One would think that the muscular Gustave would be as agile as a Taurox APC. Well, one would be wrong. The well-dressed man navigated himself through the crowded passageways of the space station almost gracefully. Almost. One misplaced fruit peel sent him careening through a glass window of one of the numerous bars in the station. The patrons seated where Goose landed were not happy. Goose was even more so as his attire was now stained with various foodstuffs. Goose attempted to be the better man and apologize and pay for the damages, but a fist to the face threw that option out of the window just as quickly as Goose threw one of them out of one.
[hr]
Thirty-two minutes and one partially destroyed bar later, Goose finally managed to reach the station in between the more wealthy parts of the station. The Arbites squad stationed there eyed up Goose suspiciously. For good reason, no doubt. Gustave's once pristine and clean attire was wrinkled, torn, and stained by both food, drink, and some splotches of blood in some areas. His face bore a few fresh cuts, bruises and scratches. But he still looked rather presentable...kind of. [b]"Uhh...looking to go somewhere?"[/b] An Arbite said as he placed a gloved hand atop his shock maul cautiously. [color=steelblue]"Yes. To the Windsor Suite. I have a meeting with the Rogue Trader."[/color] the somewhat dishevelled man hands over his papers and key card. Even as they read through and confirmed the validity of the papers, they still eyed the man with distrust. Goose taking note of this, reassures them. [color=steelblue]"Ah, don't worry about the blood. It was from a little misunderstanding from earlier...It's not even mine."[/color] He chuckles as he glances around to look for a clock and sees that he is already three minutes or so late. Things were already going downhill and he wasn't even in the meeting area yet. The Arbites talk among themselves before finally one of them approaches Goose and returns his paperwork and keycard. [b]"Your papers are in order. You may pass, but if you cause problems...Throne have mercy on you for we will not."[/b] Goose, seemingly not understanding the gravity of the threat, simply gives the Arbites a smile and a nod before heading off to find the Windsor Suite.

The difference between the districts was as clear as night and day. The drab and gloomy atmosphere was completely replaced with a bright and elegant one. The veteran guardsman was in complete awe and did his best to burn the sights he saw into his memory as this may be the first and last time he would be able to see this. Majority of the district's denizens looked at him in a mix of confusion and disgust. How could a person who looks and acts like him be even allowed a kilometer of the district? Much to their awe and disbelief when Goose approached the Windsor Suite and actually entered it. As he went past the doors, he did his best to make his attire a more presentable and tried to rub off the stains of the food, drink, and blood that stained his person. Safe to say that it did next to nothing, and likely just stained his attire to a further extent. Three people were already there but none of them looked like they matched the Rogue Trader title. So he assumed that they were the others that the Rogue Trader had requested to meet. Well time to make a good first impression with his colleagues.

Like the thousands of times before, Goose stood tall and gave them all a firm salute and introduces himself. [color=steelblue]"Sargeant Gustave Boucher of the 78th Bristonian Hellhounds! A pleasure to meet all of you!"[/color]