The monolithic Plague Marine looked about the cabin as it shuddered whilst entering the world's atmosphere. He shook his head. Nothing to be worry about. He went back to prepping his Bile Spewer for the upcoming battle. As the transport was hit, the Pestilent creature jumped, his weapon flying from his hands, sliding across the cabin floor.
For a moment, Besian simply blinked his singular eye. Looking confused in that dream-like state of his. He squinted, lifting his gaze toward the ceiling of the Storm Eagle as he let out a bellowing roar, bile spraying from the small vertical slit in his ancient helm. He ran after the Weapon at the fastest pace he could as it slid toward the back of the cabin, snarling & hissing the entire way. he looked like a father attempting to save an injured child. Intestinal slop seemed to flow endlessly from his split stomach, leaving a trail of steaming, wretched glop wherever the Plague Marine wandered. At last, he found his prized weapon, holding it close to his chest. He cooed to it softly, caressing the miserable-looking bile spewer with the greatest of care.
At once, the Plague Marine fastened the Plague Spewer in it's makeshift flesh holster, walking back toward the spot he had stood minutes before, The red emergency light illuminating his abhorrent form. He leaned back against one of the walls, grabbing hold of whatever he could. It was clear he was trying to restrain himself for the coming collision. His cyclopean eye slowly shuts as he drifts back into that deadly calm.