[b]Vael![/b]

"That they are bureaucrats, lord," said Reikler, brightening as she produced a heavy ledger bound with steel and crystal. "They operate as a registered chapter of loyalist Astartes - the Cerulean Scribes - and they follow all commands given to them, fighting xenos and reinforcing Imperial positions. Their service record is exemplary - and nobody connected the dots between their arrival in sectors and the outbreaks of major plagues. Other than that, very little - other than that the majority of their actions, both now and during the Heresy, were in and around Ultramar." 

[b]Leuric![/b]

You can see a twist of a smile before it is hidden behind an elegant fan. A deliberate display - the Lady Navigator previously thought you a fool, now she thinks you [i]weak[/i]. Her handmaidens gather around her like extensions of her dress, hands hidden beneath their flowing lace and ribbons, threat evident. The rest of the bridge is frozen in horror.

Navigators are proud creatures to begin with, considering themselves the equals of even Rogue Traders or the Lords of the Legion. They, too, are powerful - they need merely open their Warp Eye to strike powerful souls mad or dead. And more than anything else, they are [i]necessary[/i]. Without Mme. Dizzy aboard, the Everthirsting Maw cannot travel. It will be rendered a hunk of scrap no more use than any of these mines, another shard of drifting wreckage around the Jade Bastion. From all this, Mme. Dizzy considers herself untouchable, and she regards your threat as comical.

"As you say, great lord~," she says, letting the needle of sarcasm cut into your ear. "I would h[i]aaaa[/i]ate to be removed from my command position."

[b]Hagar![/b]

"As you say, lord," said Sio-015. "Thank you for your attendance on this matter." 

You got the feeling that all the targeting decisions had been made hours ago - but you also got the feeling that the Ordinator appreciated your attention to detail. He was an old man with the aspect of a beasthunter, mechanical eyes looking out from a feral beard, beneath a pith helmet and above a necklace of daemonic teeth.

"Though your assistance would be appreciated on a more kinetic level as well," said the Ordinator. "The cannons need to be driven apart, you see - they are overfused and overlarge for these targets, and the Bridge has commanded immediate action. Perhaps you would be able to assist in driving the daemons apart?"