Eisenhorn

Warhammer 40,000 - Chasing Chaos

Stukov quietly heard out the Inquisitor as he explained the armory in more detail then the Armsman anticipated, including the mention of several weapons of xenos origins. The mention made his mind think back to the Dark Eldar he had encountered, those being his only experience with Xenos of any sort, and made him speak once he finished answering the first question he had, although it was a brief statement. "With all due respect, if any of it is of Dark Eldar make, destroy it. Nothing they have created is worth the risk involved in dealing with such things. Those are tools of suffering and torture as much as they are weapons of war."

As the man continued onto the handling of being almost all soldiers, one and all, Stukov nodded. If that was all it took to hide their presence, than so be it. The mention of other Inquisitors, including one the man seemed to know by name, and that none of them would be hostile did not seem to sit well with the Armsman, although he didn't speak on the matter. That seemed too good to be true, if this page was indeed a source of eldritch power, he had this nagging thought that some would rather use it for their own purposes vice reclaim and, hopefully, destroy such a thing. Then again, he was hardly an Inquisitor, simply an overcautious Naval armsman. But experience dictated he act as such. The man's unsure response got a smirk out of Stukov and he shrugged. That was odd, but far more reasonable than it could have turned out. "Either she wants you to see her in such an outfit, or she intends you to fill that role in such a relationship. I can't say which is more amusing yet. Regardless, I shall not speak on the matter to another, it is hardly my business anyways. Appreciate the answers boss, that's all I got for questions for now. Ready to roll out when you are."

Stukov's questions were indeed answered, and while he was uneasy with Xeno equipment being in the armory, the man's reasoning was sound enough. Kept locked away and out of untrained hands would hopefully be enough. So with that, he would follow the man to the hanger bay when he was ready, or when he was dismissed, whichever came first.

Fire Emblem: Light's End

Jerod

Jerod nodded to the Khan Therus, finishing the last of the drink in the flask as he stared into the stars. It was going to be a long war, there was no denying that now. The Naga fanatics would fight to the last, such was their belief in their cause. And so would the free world, men and women like this band existed all over, who would not surrender their freedom and ways of life, even if it meant death and bloodshed. A sobering thought, a global fight over ideology and faith. A world spanning war, with everything on the line. The light of freedom and progress, or the darkness of oppression and enslavement to an ideology corrupted. Jerod sighed, running a hand over his face, sweating despite the cold weather. Still too warm for his tastes, or perhaps it was not just the climate putting him into such cold sweats. Either way, he couldn't rightly pass out against this tree, unobserved. That was inviting trouble. So, with a grunt, he hauled himself onto his feet and walked into the camp proper, careful to not make noise that would awaken those who slumbered. He happened to stumble, figuratively of course, across Solanne and Niya, to both he nodded towards with a tired smirk.

"Mornin' t' both o' ye, or evenin', whic'ever i' may be still."

Niya

Niya sighed, leaning on her staff and shaking her head briefly before straightening up, returning to her usual, cloistered and reserved standing. Her young companion was indeed right, the last Shepards were not anywhere remotely close to a proper military band, which was what led them to such success was that very diverse skill set and devotion to each other, in their own manner. So she nodded briefly, responding to the woman as she attempted to shake the dark thoughts that plagued her in her evaluation of this band of mercenaries and patriots.

"You are correct, Solanne. Guess that show's why I keep you around..."

It was the closest she got to joking, and she would have continued if Jerod had not stumbled upon the two of them. Niya glared at the mercenary, and if looks could kill the man would not have left enough remains to fill his boots. She detested the man, a drunken sellsword who abandoned the very government he had sworn his sword to, or that was how she saw it. She didn't know the whole truth of it, but she did not know that and did not care to hear him out. She knew all she thought she had to. With a scowl and biting remark aimed at Jerod, she turned and her tone softened towards Solanne afterwords before she retired.

"Drunken wretch of a scoundrel. I go to retire for the evening, Solanne, may you find a peaceful night's rest."

Jerod, for his credit, rolled his eyes and sighed, not rising up to her little comment as he watched her walk off and shook his head. She did not know the half of what she was talking about, but he didn't have the energy to try and correct her. She wouldn't have believed it anyways. The mercenary was merely hoping it would not interfere with her doing her job, or himself doing his.

Warhammer 40,000 - Chasing Chaos

Stukov noted the tension he had cut from his entry, and would put that in an ask later position, he had other, more pressing concerns to ask about for now. The captain quarters he had followed the Inquisitor into were fairly humble, with a few items of comfort vice necessity, but such was to be expected from any Imperial Captain, far as he had dealt with. Then again, all he had gone off prior to this entry into the Captain's state room was the salvage work he had done after crashing or doing clean up post Gellar Field failure. Neither of which he had any interest in living through again. But neither of these incidents were either here or there, so he focused on the present as he calmly took a position near the desk, arms linked behind his back as he stood vice sitting down, facing the Inquisitor directly. At the beginning of his career he would never have ever even imagined being face to face with an Inquisitor, let alone asking questions of one, but a lot had changed, and he spoke plainly as soon as the door sealed. "Thank you for your time, Inquisitor, I will be brief as possible so time is not wasted."

"Firstly, and this stems from prior experience, I am concerned about ship security. Every vessel I have served on, barring this one until recently, has had secrets that no security crew could keep track of. This has led to the failure of Gellar Fields, in the case of a Cruiser, that led to over 75% crew causalities. And the second time the complete loss of an Apocalypse Class Battleship. So my question is, and I doubt I will get any details or even a real answer, does your armory contain the means to cause this ship to be destroyed or lost to the warp?" Stukov didn't really expect to get an answer out of that one, but he felt it necessary to ask. Even if he was not formally a part of the ship's crew anymore, having been reassigned as such, his mindset was still on security. And that meant asking questions that might not be pleasant or even, in other circumstances, any of his business. But he asked anyways, and kept it direct.

"Secondly, and still pertaining to security, how are we intending to mask so many soldiers in an investigative operation? They tend to not be the most subtle sort, and I do indeed speak for my own skill set as well. As well as the comment you made on the call being put out to more than just yourself during the brief, are we expecting to run into other members of the Inquisition, and should we expect conflict in that regard?" Still professional and all business on the matter, and it was unlikely any of it seemed like it had been necessary to request a private setting to ask the questions. Stukov was saving that question for last. He really was hoping the man had not put the items there of his own volition, even if that meant someone had ignored an Inquisitorial warning plate. But that did lead, in his mind's train of thought, to his last question, pausing long enough to almost let the Inquisitor begin answering the first two questions.

"Lastly, and on a rather different note, and this is not intended to question your personal life choices, why does your personal wardrobe contain a set of black woman's undergarments? Contained in what I believe was a shoebox?"

Warhammer 40,000 - Chasing Chaos

Hah, this is true Rithy, we must all lurk/chatter until it is our time to post once more.

Warhammer 40,000 - Chasing Chaos

Stukov had been stalking his way back towards the shuttle bay when he looked down as he stepped over cabling, looking at his military issue boot. Some might place that as military issue, and its age also detracted from the rest of his new attire. Couple that with the fact it was not designed for a lot of crazy groundside work, he might want something with more support and durability in mind. So, he turned around and made his way back to the warddrobe that was marked off limits by the Inquisition. He made sure it wasn't the armory first, as he walked into the room again and made his way to where he had seen the footwear at. An unusual amount of fancy shoewear, dress shoes and the like. Nothing fitting. He was mildly irritated with it when he spotted a group of shoe boxes. It was worth a shot, he supposed, and as he walked over and opened the first box on the ground, a highly confused expression crossed the armsman's face as he muttered a solitary phrase to himself. "By the Emperor, are those women's undergarments?"

Stukov could not fathom why the Inquisitor would have a pair of women's undergarments, stuffed in a shoebox, hidden away within a warddrobe that was, beyond this discovery, completely male attire. He hastily found a new boot and made sure it fit before putting it on and quickly removing himself from the room. He could not fathom why the man needed to keep a pair of women's undergarments, unless he wore them himself? No, Stukov shuddered at the thought and quickly banished it before the mind could draw up a mental picture. No, that was something that he would have to bring up with the Inquisitor, amongst other things that concerned him. The armory still bothered him, for the reason that secrets tended to get vessels sunk. Such as when the Gellar Fields failed on his first ship, it had been a crew error that they refused to report for repair prior to warp travel. So secrets did not sit well with the senior armsman, so he decided to track the Inquisitor down, to ask his various questions. Since he doubted the man would want him asking about the women's undergarments in front of the whole team.

Stukov ended up on the bridge right after the psyker had finished speaking, having looked at several other likely spots he could think of, not catching her question and standing politely to the side. It wasn't his first trip up to the bridge to brief the Captain on the status of his teams prior to a warp transition, so he was not an unseen sight on the bridge. So he crossed his arms, speaking briefly as to not interrupt any more than necessary. Besides that, with the female Psyker present, that was the worst possible time to bring up the undergarments he had found in the wardrobe. Unless he rather would have her know they were there, in which case he would throw that discretion to the wind. "When you have a moment, Inquisitor, I have a question to ask in private. A few, really."

StarCraft II: Wings of Liberty RP: Following the briefly mentioned Shadow War

Likewise, you have potential interest here as well.

Warhammer 40,000 - Chasing Chaos

Stukov nodded curtly, not having really expected anything more than that. The Inquisitor walked out with his assistant, after having instructed them as to where the stashed clothing was, and to NOT enter the armory. Once the Inquisitor and his acolyte had left, the Armsman crossed his arms, looking over the few people remaining as the one fellow from Armageddon left to change. The midget dwarf didn't really sit well with the Armsman, reminded him of some mutant strains of humanity that were not so friendly to the Imperium and its cause. Stukov also excused himself to leave and gather some different clothing to sneak about in, without being noticed as obvious Imperial military personnel. That would defeat the purpose of the warband being tasked with going and gathering information and finding the page they were looking for. The lack of information on what they were specifically looking for struck him too much of typical operating procedure for the Imperium, but he could do little about it right now. All he could do is change and get ready to leave.

Stukov let himself into the personal wardrobe, careful to heed the Inquisitor's warning and not walk into the armory. Still didn't set well with him that there could be unknown amount of trouble in that armory, and no one knew about it, but he could do little about it yet. First off, Stukov's entire attire had to be changed out, or at the very least altered. The carapace chest piece was hidden under a plain looking vest, with a trench coat thrown over it. The green slacks, normally part of his uniform and rolled to expose his simple mechanical leg replacement, was dropped down to conceal it better, while any imperial insignia was removed. The inside of the trench coat was lined with pockets, so he loaded his ammo there vice its usual carry method. Everything else, his pistol, knife, and various explosives, all were hidden beneath the coat. Looking at his new attire in the mirror, he wasn't sure whether he looked more like an undercover Arbites, from the stories, or a freelance merc. The latter was far better than the former, but he decided the attire would suit his purposes. One last item caught his attention, a pair of goggles that appeared to be flash resistant. They also looked completely handmade, lacking any sort of formal or mass manufactured appearance. Leaving them to hang around his neck, he walked out of the wardrobe and had what few things he was not taking with him dropped off at his quarters.

Walking back, Stukov paused outside the forbidden armory, as the Armsman was going to call it from here on out, and sighed. That nagging feeling that something was in there that was not just idle and disabled, but was an active threat to the ship he was sworn to defend, would not go away. But he knew full well that, should he try to go in, odds were some sort of defensive mechanisms would kick in and, knowing the reputation the Inquisition had, he wouldn't live long enough to be chastised or executed for his invasion of the space. He spent several moments in the silence, filtering out the ambient noise of the operation of the ship, listening for anything unusual. Not overtly, but leaning against the wall, shotgun slung over his shoulder while he readjusted his attire quietly. He would eventually move on to where the Warband was preparing to head down to the surface, but until then he would do one last quiet round of the ship, where he could within reasonable time. It wasn't easy letting go of the job he had been doing his whole life, but one should not complain about where the Emperor sent them, or so the priest would tell him. Well, he was, but it wasn't changing anything.

Fire Emblem: Light's End

*Applauds Solanne's sappy, heart-felt speech*

Warhammer 40,000 - Chasing Chaos

Stukov snorted in amusement, partially to hide his surprise at the plain speak that the psyker offered him. Psyker powers or no, at least she wasn't one of those type that saw themselves as some heralds of a new age of Man, where those without powers were beneath them in some manner beyond a usual command structure. Not that he had noticed so far at any rate. But he digressed as she stood up to leave, to start on whatever scrying, spying, or whatever she was going to do in specific with the warp. He got in a side comment in her direction, in direct response to her own comment on the likelihood of a daemon spawning through her and causing the ship all sorts of grief, to put it mildly. "Daemon's coming out of your ass is even further beyond my jurisdiction than if they were coming out of your head. And I'm not sure the on board medical staff could help with a warphole replacing your asshole, ma'am. So I'll try to not to tell you whether you dare or dare not do or use your job, powers, whatever they are. Just keep the daemons out of your ass, head, whatever other orifices you might see them spawning from, yea?"

The offer of use of the Inquisitor's personal wardrobe was a surprising thought, to the Armsman at least, indeed. He would not even begin to know what would be appropriate wear for a bodyguard in such a position, let alone on some pleasure planet. He would guess, long as he could find something that fit and wasn't some officer or royalty's garb he would work with that. He didn't trust his luck in that regard though, so he might end up having to deal with being dressed up far more than he would have ever imagined possible. The null rod was something he wished existed in his possession far sooner, as its effects were described, although he had not even the foggiest clue as to what or how the thing would be used or operated. "Wouldn't know how to operate a null road even if you gave me one, boss. Probably safer I handle chaos the old fashioned way, blessed buckshot."

As the Inquisitor resumed his brief, Stukov looked over the situation that was presented. Spy that may or may not cooperate, leaving them with either a direction of dubious authenticity, or a complete guess of luck and providence, and having to hide larger weapons. His shotgun probably would need to be concealed, leaving only his pistol for fast access. Not a comforting thought, to put it mildly. But he didn't betray that little bit of discomfort, that kind of a lack of knowledge and blind drop was something he was very much used to. So he had no real other questions, leaning back in the chair and finishing his recaff as he crossed his arms, waiting for the brief to finish now. He did need to change and pack what gear he needed this time, a far different load out than he was used to. That might make things interesting down the line, but it was what it was. One last question did come to mind though, and he asked it with little hesitation. He would not want to be unknowingly hanging with his ass in the air, metaphorically speaking. "Got any backup if things go south in a hurry?"

Warhammer 40,000 - Chasing Chaos

Well, reasonable enough, I'll have a post up tonight then.