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Fair points on both counts, I had originally included it as a power since it was used to alter the other abilities, but it makes sense under equipment too. I'll shift it over and get the CS over into the tab as well now.
Alright, apologies for the delay, but here's the fellow I'd like to submit.

Stukov breached the door after preparing, finding any cultist noises that had been from beyond the door had either fled or vanished. That was... concerning. Enemies just up and vanishing into the void was always trouble, especially given the general attire and firepower they had employed so far. He would continue to take point, his gut instinct remaining very much unsettled and distrustful of the situation at hand, cautiously leading the way down to regroup with Celeste and the rest of the team down on the first floor, following her orders as he reached back onto the first floor much more conventionally than he had reached the sixth floor to begin with. Getting down to the first floor, he nodded to Celeste and the rest of the team. "Alright, we're back. Heavy bolter crew very much sorted out properly. Ready to keep moving when you are."

The armsman would fall in step with the Celestian as she took point, a close second as she disarmed a trap designed to incapacitate rather than outright kill. That didn't sit well with him, honestly, any cult wanting to make prisoners of an inquisitorial strike team that was supposed to be at least pretending at being subtle before their first move, grumbling under his breath at the idea. Prisoners were, if they were lucky, died relatively quickly, but it was unlikely they'd be lucky to get such a fate. "Information, torture, sacrifice, the usual that a cult wants. If they were ready for us, which it seems tehy were, probably a lot more insidious trouble. Don't get taken alive, I'd advise."

Given his experience with the forces of Chaos prior to the retinue, well, he'd sooner save a bullet for himself rather than let the traitors ever take him alive. Continuing to the door, he took a position as Celeste took up her position and threw a grenade into the room, and was second in after her, shotgun raised and sweeping the room as he moved to cover the angles that the Sister wasn't covering immediately. Nothing, then the sickening energy filled the room, causing him to snap his shotgun and slamfire the weapon at the daemonette as she appeared, watching as both his weapons fire and Celeste's failed to do anything. Then the bitch started talking, and he hardened his heart with righteous hatred as he started loading the blessed buckshot he saved for daemons. Leveling the shotgun at the image again, he snarled as he replied.

"If you knew half as much as you claim you wouldn't waste your words, now get back to the warp where you belong, abomination."
"Yeah I know its a bad idea, beats getting shredded by a... you get the idea." Stukov had enough of warp exposure to last him several lifetimes, given his prior experience as an Armsman before the Inquisition, but Throne above there wasn't any other particularly valid options outside rush the building and try and punch through whatever defenses were in place to keep just that particular thing from happening. Close quarters brawls and battles were his forte, but even he could only work so fast through a fight. Still, once Smiles teleported over, dwarfing him by her unusual height in comparison, and gave her a steady nod when told to lock and load as she got a firm grip on his arm. "Already done, I like to keep this handy for close encounters after all."

Still, he had to mentally steel himself given his experiences, and sure enough, as he silently and mentally prayed to the Emperor to protect his faithful, though apparently foolish, servant, the jump into the warp, however brief, was very, thoroughly unpleasant. Even braced, every instinct screamed that he should be fighting, something, anything, first and foremost would probably be the damned pair of daemonic eyes glaring down at him. He didn't have time to register the glee, no matter how malicious, in the damn things eyes before, mercifully, they were pulled back into realspace. His ears were ringing, mind, and his heart racing at a borderline dangerous level as his body dumped as much adrenaline as it possibly could into his system. The grip on his shotgun was white knuckle, and for a moment he could have sworn he was back on the old battleship trying to get back into real space. Of course, Smiles had the right thought to bark an order, and where the mind reeled, instinct and muscle memory took over.

"BACK TO THE WARP YOU WRETCHED BASTARDS!" Shotgun snapped up, trained first on the heretic that was responding first, the alternate that Smiles hadn't seen to, aiming high and thoroughly blasting the head clean off the cultist, sending a spray of blood and viscera as Stukov slam fired his shotgun, tracking from target to target, emptying his shotgun into the remaining cultists, nevermind he had more buckshot than there were targets manning the heavy bolter. Assuming emptying the shotgun into the remaining cultists left the rest of them dead, and the crew served weapon dead, he'd start quickly loading shells into the shotgun, reloading and pumping it, higher faculties back in line, and glanced over at Smiles. "Right, I'd say remind me to save that request for emergencies in the future, but that was redundant. Let's start clearing the building, see if we can't find that thing you detected in the process. I'm on point, ready?"
"THAT WASN'T A REQUEST FOR YOU TO PROVE ME RIGHT YOU BASTARDS!" The moment the heavy bolter opened up, Stukov roared at the assaulting weapons team as he ducked down and went for solid cover, finding himself right next to the Celestian behind the curiously placed metal barrier. They had room to move, at least, though trying to cross the open ground to get into the apartment building, fight his way up to the right floor, get through the barricades, and clear out the nest would take too long. Even if he was just sprinting up floor after floor, they didn't have the luxury of time to let the heavy bolter chew away at the cover. That meant he had to skip all that running, and he had a plan. It was an Emperor damned bad one, mind, but sometimes that was the primary option. Glancing over at where Smiles ended up, he spoke loud enough to be heard over the heavy bolter fire.

"I can't get an angle on them from here, get me up there Smiles. I don't think this barricade will hold long enough to run in and up six flights of stairs. We can cut off anyone trying to escape from two directions then." Stukov was bracing himself, her method of travel was never pleasant, never would be he suspected, but none of those heretics would be ready for an irate, shotgun wielding armsman just appearing and slamfiring the shotgun and clearing out the room. His other options were firing his naval pistol, and hoping to land a hit, try and long arm a grenade up there, or just praying one of the other squad members could silence the gun from down here. Or charge in and fight his way up to the nest, but a heavy bolter would chew through a barricade in relatively short order.
Stukov kept an ear on the situation, though the statue seemed to revert back to what it should have been, one dedicated to the God Emperor. That was...peculiar, but not completely foreign. The warp was deceitful and tricky when not properly controlled, and he lowered the shotgun from aimed to a low ready, scanning the surroundings carefully, looking for the slightest thing out of place or otherwise wrong. He'd rely on gut instinct as well if it came up, though he much preferred trying to pick out trouble on a ship. Urban wasn't too bad, though this was a far cry from working through a hiveworld or the like as well. Moving back away from the statue, he would turn after satisfying himself that he couldn't spot any impending trouble and nodded to the soldier. "Thanks for the cover, mate. Let's regroup and figure things out, that blast probably spooked anyone too stupid to run from the sound of us touching down."

Moving back, while continuing to do regular glances around, waiting for the sudden crack of weapons fire to finally open up after the explosion, he moved to the rest of the group, offset enough to hopefully avoid clustering up into a nice, juicy grenade target. Seems that Celeste was alright, her armor soaking most of the blast, though the comms seemed to have indicated her systems fluctuated. Might want to get that checked, he thought, but didn't say it out loud. Though once she was done addressing the psyker, he chimed in, turning to scan while he spoke to the Celestian. "You were closest, but my gut says that was meant for lighter targets. Smiles foiled that one, but given what it did to you, would have wrapped me around a tree. No doubt there's eyes on us, but I have a feeling there was an expectation that would be enough. Now that I said it, watch, they'll open up..."
Stukov kept a stern expression on his face as he kept the shotgun trained steadily on the one who tried to leave early in the first place. Keeping the weapon steady, he listened to the information as it was pretty much spilled out as fast as she could manage. A bunch of nobles were gathered up and some warp spawned abomination was hiding under the illusion of their power was spouting some rather bold claims about two of the Chaos Gods leading to wonders unknown. Typical offers of power, prestige, and whatever else these nobles would want. They apparently feared being executed for reporting what happened, and chose to hide out in their comfortable gardens and just let the problem fester. Still, Celeste decided to have them arrested by local forces instead of summary execution, and that was a notable restraint from a Bolter Bitch. Granted, he'd learned to restrain his commentary until necessary, but he fell in line as they departed from the first pair they'd interrogated. If they were smart, they'd stay put, running now would just put them even further on the radar.

Once they were out of earshot and begun discussing daemons and their forms, Stukov would give it some thought, given his experience. That Throne damned purple haze had came over quite a few junior men, forcing them to either put down the lucky ones, or have to abandon the unlucky ones, so the idea of a disguised one seducing the nobles with promises of expanded wealth wasn't terribly surprising. "Smiles has a point, its a coin toss which of these bastarding chaos servants are more cunning and deceitful. Mix the two, and that's going to be the worst kind of trouble. Now, as for this woman who's...oh hell!"

The statue was secondary, the coal black eyes of the woman had him swinging the shotgun up, racking a shell but, unfortunately, he was nowhere near inhumanly fast enough to prevent the events from occurring. Bracing himself to get thrown, instead the fast thinking that Smiles showed buffered those not wearing power armor, the remaining force causing his longcoat to billow in the wind, though that meant Celeste was launched with enough force to buckle a tree in two. Rapidly unloading his shotgun, sharp eyes would see him loading specially marked rounds, and those that knew him well would note that was probably buckshot that he'd sought blessings for just to handle daemonic trouble. He also barked out orders, clarifying on Smiles own declaration, assigning specific people to specific roles. "Cogs, Kid, get to Celeste and check her over. Power armor should have absorbed most of that, but she'll need help. Smiles, cover me and keep an eye on the surroundings. Throne willing this was an isolated attempt, if not be ready to repel hostiles."

Making sure one of the blessed shells was racked and ready, he advanced on the statue and, well, very unfortunate remains of the waiting warp bomb of a woman. More concerning was a statue openly dedicated to Khorne, who normally the servants didn't rely on trickery like suicide bombers, that was the tricks of Tzeentch mainly, in his experience. He was looking for any signs of further trouble outside the very obvious, that a Khornate statue was here, and a target had just warp bombed with enough force to launch and possibly incapacitate a senior Sister of Battle.
Stukov cocked an eyebrow at the mention of 'combat robots', since that was well and truly beyond his measure of understanding. He wasn't about to go asking how she secured that kind of help. Gunship support was a positive thing too, so he would take that for what it was. Next was his question and, sure enough, there was no solid idea or intel on what was going to be awaiting them. No other safe houses or forces on hand, so it was just them, the tin cans if things got bad enough, versus whatever was going to be waiting for them in the city itself. Great news there, he thought with a sarcastic tone, but didn't say it out loud. His job was to kick in doors and kill heretics, not complain or think too hard on how the powers that be got their toys.

Sure enough they were off again, with little fanfare, boarding he strapped in again and immediately dozed off, the transport's movement and shacking seeming to do nothing to interfere with his ability to rest. Old habits died hard, and getting rest whenever he was in a position where he couldn't do anything wasn't going to go away anytime soon. Eventually the slowing transport woke him up from his dozing, shaking his head briefly as the restraints released and he was on his feet, heading off the transport in close step after Celeste. He noted the smart ones legging it the moment they saw the heavily armed squad touch down out of relative nowhere. Definitely not subtle, and odds were at least one of them was already alerting the local heretics of the rather sudden arrival. Still, Throne willing they would nail at least the first target before things got hairy.

Speaking of, he checked his data slate when Sis chimed in over the comm, memorizing age, appearance, various details for this specific person of interest. Walking in step with Celeste, Stukov was scanning the information being processed over the slate, glancing around routinely as they moved. He spoke just loud enough for Celeste to hear without him screaming for all to hear. "Right, let's move quick. Kick the door in, grab her, extract what information is usable, and deal with her from there. At least one of those who ran is probably raising the alarm, so clock's ticking as it were."
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