Stukov kept himself quiet, observing the man while continuing to run through his mental knowledge of the varying medals and uniform that the man was wearing. There were other negotiations and discussions going on, but the armsman kept his silence until it was time to depart, falling in step alongside the Celestian. She seemed certain he was no heretic, at least for now, and while he lacked the insight into others that she seemed to have, he would take her word for it for now. Which also meant keeping his peace, though the warning on the fact the safe house was different from most places among the vast Imperium. [color=598527]"Can't say I am surprised you have such a place funded and built up for yourself, and the Inquisition of course."[/color]

	The armsman kept his peace otherwise, riding the shuttle and mostly resting. He may not have been a Guardsman, but he certainly adopted the approach that many of their veterans had of resting damn near anytime they had the opportunity to. Be it in a shuttle, transport, or otherwise having no control over a situation that he could reasonably exert. Of course, some could poke fun at him being the 'old man' of the group sleeping all the time, but constant time spent in warp transit had that effect at times. In time they would touch down at the safehouse, noting that they had traveled a fair distance to get here by how long they had remained airborne. It was...quite unlike anything the armsman could put to words or describe, very much an anomaly in the Imperial approach to construction and building. Maybe it was a style sufficiently rich planet dwellers favored when space was not at a premium? 

	[color=598527]"No wonder you saw fit to give us a warning..."[/color] It was all very strange, design wise, and he wasn't entirely sure whether he approved or not. Not that it mattered, mind, but it was still a consideration as they went through a decontamination type chamber and into the safehouse proper. Rather large and sprawling, the design continuing to prove to be very foreign to him, and not just because it was needlessly fancy and expensive looking to maintain. Not that such things mattered to the Inquisition, they simply made things happen as they saw fit, for better or worse. Either way the place seemed right up the alley, comfort wise, for damn near any nobility or high end agents that would be using the place. Not his cup of tea, mind, he preferred his quarters a bit more utilitarian, but he wasn't going to turn his nose up at any of it. Especially since this was their berthing for the foreseeable future.

	Imagine his surprise though, concealed as it was, when a certain someone rounded the corner, and Stukov gave her a casual grin. Well that was a sight for sore eyes, he hadn't seen Aviza in quite a few years. He'd been rotated out to do a lot of work on void operations for the Inquisition, leading teams that were better trained, and nominally equipped, for those kind of unique circumstances. Now that he had been rotated back in, well, of course there was Smiles and now Sis, at least the one that normally got called Sis. [color=598527]"Been keeping myself busy Sis. Not surprised to see your still around causing trouble for anything with the slightest whiff of heretic."[/color]

	Stukov would follow along with the rest of the retinue as they made their way to the kitchen, cocking an eyebrow at the lunch provided. Nothing like the paste served to the rank and file, even on Inquisitorial vessels. No cost spared in providing in this particular safe house. He wasn't picky, considering the mention of personal taste and preparing drinks. He considered it, there was an acquired taste he had picked up after dealings with Valhallans nearly twenty years ago. [color=598527]"Foods warm, and isn't some sort of recycled paste. That's enough for me, and got any Tanna brewing? Haven't had a good cup of that in years..."[/color]