Ben stepped into the lobby and looked around. The psyker asked the question that he was thinking, and he stepped forward, assuming command. The Pskyer wasn't a commander, and neither was Stukov. The kasrykin was new, and he didn't trust him yet, and Commissars weren't always capable commanders.

Ben had experience with units. They were usually in APCs, but he had led a platoon before.

"Alright. Fan out, find him. Pairs would work better, but no one is forcing it on you. Use your communicators. Squelch twice for help, sounds like this." Ben's communicator was in his glove, and he squeezed it twice, hotkeying the mic twice, making two short bursts of static. "If you can't get any words out, use that. If you can talk, do it. Do NOT break cover if you can help it. We might still be able to salvage this mission." Ben said. He looked around the Lobby and spotted a bar. "I'll be at the bar, providing a sort of lookout. Any questions?" Ben asked the group.

He sensed the Kasyrkin could possibly be doubting him. "I'm Sergeant Ben Duren. 5 Years on Armaggeddon, in service of the Emperor's finest army, the steel legion. Did a year as a Lieutenant." It served as his introduction to the Commissar and the trooper that he didn't know. Provided there were no questions, he waved them off. "Lets crack on." he said, looking around the room, as he headed towards the bar. He pressed the button in his glove, and brought his sleeve up to his mouth. "And if you get any premonitions, be sure to let us know, ma'am."

Stukov noted the way that Smiles looked at him, and he returned the look with an almost impassive looking stare. Thank the Emperor for the shades he picked up and the rebreather, he thought, because he doubted that the look he would have had on his face having that kind of death stare given to him would have been less then flattering. But he couldn't say he was surprised that she mentioned Daemons were involved. It couldn't have just been some thugs or cultists, full blown Daemons haunted his every turn it seemed. But he did mutter under his breath as he moved down the long flight of stairs, following Adrianne down the stairwell in the process. He was thankful it was stairs and not ladders, not that tiring affair again. "Daemons, it always has to be daemons, doesn't it?" One could get tired of being up to his eyeballs in daemons, even if they were typically better to fight than Dark Eldar in his opinion, as strange as that was to think.

Following Smiles out into the back of some cafe or another, he looked over the area as he attempted to pick out their illustrious boss. Stukov was used to having to sift through crowds of fighting, angry and chaotic forces, so one would think that someplace as peaceful as this would be far easier. But he didn't seem to have any luck at the moment when Smiles mentioned the boarding being good for his combat skill against the Daemons. The Armsman winced slightly at the statement, remembering the far too many dead men and women who paid the blood price to save the ship and what was left of her crew. That was not a price he wanted to pay for experience in fighting against the Daemonic forces that opposed the Imperium of Man, and he mentioned as much lowly, his tone hard to decipher through the rebreather, but less jovial it was. "Good for combat skill Smiles, not good for three quarters of that crew who died repelling the boarders. And I don't see Boss from here..."

Stukov had almost forgotten her mind reader thing she had going, and it was unnerving considering he did not discuss that boarding lightly, nor take the memory of those lost underway in vein. When the Steel Legion sergeant stepped in, he kept quiet and let the more experienced soldier take over organizing the group. Better than his solution to sweeping an area, which was the same way that was preferred by the Naval Armsman. Cordon it off and form a line, checking every nook and cranny. Wasn't always an option, but as he finished describing the plan the Armsman did nod, his communicator fed through his mask at the moment. The Armageddon veteran got a nickname based on his given role in this plan, which would probably stick regardless of the situation, just like Adrianne got Smiles. "Better plan then not having one at all Watchman, way I figure. What do you say, Smiles, shall we do a bit of sweep and clear?"

James nodded curtly and spoke quietly to the Inquisitor. "I have found a few places my Lord that do arouse suspicion. Though a gallery has piqued my interest, I recommend going there first." He showed the Inquisitor a datapad with several images on display, primarily advertising images that showed various statues of marble, beautifully carved. Also there was a relics exhibit that held replicas of many Imperium relics. Though most were just mini replicas of battles. There were some site that would catch the eye of someone like Zhevon, especially given his current investigation. "For an item like yours. This is a good place to start. I will accompany you there and provide support." He stood upright, and scanned the nearby area, wary of guests interrupting their meeting. As he scanned his hand glazed over where his Exitus Pistol was hidden, his eyes sharp and his hand ready to draw his pistol. He felt like he was being watched...More than he usually did. "My Lord, we should move. Something is amiss..." He spoke quickly and began to move towards a nearby bar for a better vantage point on the area. "Zhevon did you bring anybody else?" A silly question, of course he would. With what he was facing there must be some group backing his play, else he would not have asked James to take the time to gather intel on the place. "Oh, and before I forget. I didn't drink. Too many heretics here. They are hardly subtle...It is quite appalling and a test of my willpower." he said lightly. Then piping up one last time to inform the Inquisitor of his stash, "My Lord, I have a hidden cache nearby with my equipment inside, I will need to re-arm there before we proceed if that is alright." He needed his rifle, his suit, his mask. All of it, he needed to be ready at the rate he saw heretics strutting about the place. He was damn glad he wasn't a psyker...This must be where they go mad. Even with what he was hearing aloud right now he was unnerved, what wandered in the minds of them...By the Emperor...That was a nasty thought. So he kept his mind focused on the task at hand: Guard Lord Inquisitor Zhevon Amoxa. Something was amiss here and he would not let it do the Lord harm as long as he stood and drew breath. His Pistol was ready to fire, let them come, let the heretics swarm him. He will send them all wailing into the warp.

"What do you say, Smiles, shall we do a bit of sweep and clear?"

"I would prefer to stay on overwatch up here." Adrianne would explain, gazing down the 30ft drop down to the main floor of the lobby, before her gaze returned to Stukov and Ben.
"Besides, I do like my dramatic entrances."

Walking over to one of the nearby coffee tables, Adrianne would raise her right hand subtly towards it, using her kinetic powers to pull the table and chair a little closer to the glass panels while no one was looking. Sitting down into the cushy and luxurious leather chair, she would rest her staff at the side of the table before moving her hands up to her helmet, unlocking it with a click before pulling it off her head and letting her snow white hair and ponytail fall down.

It was quite a relief to be free of her suit, even if it was just her head. The air inside had been getting stale, not to mention humid and sweaty.

Placing her helmet on the table, she would motion for one of the nearby waitresses that she was ready to order, before turning to look back at Stukov and Ben.

"Relax, I can see more from up here. If you run into any kind of trouble, I will be there before you know it."

"I have found a few places my Lord that do arouse suspicion. Though a gallery has piqued my interest, I recommend going there first." His trusted Vindicare said, bringing up a dataslate. Zhevon leaned in closer to get a closer look at the picts, he nodded slowly. The gallery could be a quiet meeting point for any cultists. "For an item like yours. This is a good place to start. I will accompany you there and provide support." James assured.
"My thanks, friend." Zhevon said, bowing his head slightly in respect.

"My Lord, we should move. Something is amiss..." The Vindicare spoke up. He began to move towards the Cafe, which did feature a bar. It was also on an elevated position, making it an obvious choice for spotting. Zhevon followed closely, albeit less tense than his Vindicare companion. "Zhevon did you bring anybody else?"
"A number of my retinue." Zhevon replied as they were walking up the stairs.
"Oh, and before I forget. I didn't drink. Too many heretics here. They are hardly subtle...It is quite appalling and a test of my willpower." James remarked. Zhevon chuckled. "My Lord, I have a hidden cache nearby with my equipment inside, I will need to re-arm there before we proceed if that is alright."
"Of course. When we leave the port, we'll part ways. My retinue and I will go straight to this Gallery, and you can go to your cache. We will then both meet up at the front of the Gallery."

When they reached the Cafe, Zhevon looked around for a table for the two of them to lay low. Instead, he saw Adrianne. He tapped James on the arm, a way of getting his attention, and walked to her table. "Ah! Adrianne." He spoke, as if seeing an old friend, "This is James, we will be working with him." He introduced the Vindicare. He then pulled out a seat for him and gestured the Assassin to sit, while moving to sit on his own.
It was then that a Waitress appeared, ready to take their orders. Zhevon looked to the other two sitting at the table, and decided to order first.
"This Cafe does sandwiches, right?"
"Oh yes. Some of the best around. Just for you, we'll grab bread from LeDésir." She spoke in a sweet voice.
"Excellent. May I have a cup of Tanna? A cold sandwich as well, ham, lettuce, swiss, and light on the mayonnaise." He asked, she expertly jotted down his order, and waited for the other two to order. Once they had placed their orders, she walked away.

"Well, this seems like as good a place as any." Zhevon said, he placed the dataslate containing the picts of the Gallery on the table, but it was only a moment after he said that, that the Waitress placed down the drinks that they had ordered. Zhevon picked up his cup of Tanna and brought it up to his faceplate, the hot cup of tea marked his mask with steam. "A genuine cup of Tanna, wonderful."
The Waitress smiled, "We were surprised that an Inquisitor of your reputation would visit our little Cafe, so we are making sure that you receive our best."
Without skipping a beat, Zhevon replied, "You flatter, this Cafe is one of the most luxurious establishments I have ever had the pleasure to sit down at."
The Waitress smiled widely and practically waltzed off, pleased that he found the Cafe acceptable.

After looking to make sure that she had gone, Inquisitor Zhevon looked at James and Adrianne with his gold glowing eyes and plainly said,
"This disguise did not last as long as I thought it would."

Move in pairs he had said. It would be obvious that a man of reason would follow that order in a place such as this, a strange and supposedly a hostile place. Move in pairs. This is what Zachary had no intention on doing. After obtainign the presented card of his he turned towards the city and begun his walk oer there, keeping his guard up and weapons at ready for anything he could think about it, that would be up against direct melee or ranged assault or an ambush. He kept an eye out for anything suspicious for a while before coming into an conclusion that nearly everything was that. He had to find somethign special from here, something for his own and very personal needs, yet he had no idea where to look and more importantly, where to look relatively safely. Eveything seemed shady and suspicious to him, that made it difficult to find someone that could provide him the things he needed. Eventually he wandered off to a dark side alley and found someone from there, if this place made any sense, this would be his guy. He walks up to the shady figure and looks aside from his face casuall, not even trying to catch a glimpse of his face.

"I am bit..antsy." he then speaks calmly."You would not happen to know where a man could get something to expand his consciousness with around here?" He continues and let's out a sigh."And if you do..don't offer me anything a child could play with. What I am looking for needs to be big, bad and expensive." The fellow begins to smile slowly and opens well hidden door and signals Zachary inside. He nods his head and walks in with him following after. he takes a glance around the room. Yahtzee.

Adrianne sat by herself in the cafe, occasionally throwing a gaze out across the nearby glass panels to look down onto the main floor of the lobby. She had ordered a chocolate infused double espresso, which she was currently holding beneath her face as she looked down at the lobby.

However, when Zhevon would suddenly enter the cafe alongside his new acquaintance, James, she would raise an eyebrow. It would appear that Zhevon had not been standing at the bottom floor at all, which she had been watching all along; but rather on roughly the same level as the cafe. To suddenly see the inquisitor here was to say, a surprise.

She had not expected that...

"Ah! Adrianne."

"I have been expecting you." She would say with a sagely expression, quickly assuming an all-knowing tone as she met the two men with an unphased expression.

She gazed at the newcomer, James. He looked remarkably un-remarkable, wearing some humble civilian garbs. A stark contrast to the flamboyant garb of Zhevon. The fact that the inquisitor mentioned that they would be working with him could suggest he must possess some skill or knowledge that could make him a valued addition to a team hunting daemons and heretics, requiring no small qualifications.

"This disguise did not last as long as I thought it would."

At the inquisitor's mention of the failure of his disguise, Adrianne would almost smirk, before turning her attention back to the two men.

"Well, it is rather, unique. Easy to spot from a crowd - especially if they are expecting you." Adrianne said to Zhevon, giving him a small hint with one of her eyes.

Stukov had nodded and taken to a small table near the door of the Cafe, having taken Smiles plan for just as it was and made no further comment on that matter. Of course, watching Zhevon waltz in did defeat the purpose of searching for him, but he did not just immediately charge over there and gather all sorts of attention. Instead he watched as the man had his cover blown so quickly, which was not surprising. They were all given access for disguises, and yet here they were, not really needing them since Boss went and blew the cover, of all people. Ironic, if one believed in labeling things as such. Instead of walking over and announcing himself, like his first thought was, he decided to keep at least maintaining his end of the facade. No need to identify himself with everyone around, assuming that Orderly hadn't gone blabbing on about who was all with the man, in which case the purpose of subtlety was utterly defeated. He stuck to the communicator for now, which would be more subtle thanks to the rebreather, on Stukov's end, and the fact it didn't broadcast out across the whole area, in general.

"Best laid plans are doomed to failure Boss, or so it seems. Your call how to proceed, got eyes on you from my little posting." Beyond that, the Armsman did nothing to attract attention to himself as best as he could, ordering a small drink, nothing fancy but nothing cheap, aiming for as unmemorable as possible. Sure, he could have gone for the most expensive thing on the menu, but the whole don't go crazy with the cards bit probably helped reign that in, alongside the fact that he just wasn't interested in such fancy things. So he kept his peace, listening to the comm and waiting further orders, while Boss and Smiles conversed across the way at Smile's table.

Kreel shook his head slightly as Ben began more or less barking orders - admittedly he found it rather amusing, especially when he added the little thought that had he himself been any other Commissar the sergeant would probably have gotten much more than he bargained for instead of just a little stern glance as he waited that the man had moved so he could properly test his communicator. The Commissar just rolled his eyes and touched the small earpiece. "Sergeant, I will have to remind you that I am wearing what appears to be the uniform of a Commissar - thus not 'breaking cover' might be a tad bit difficult for me." Despite the Sergeant's overall plan being a rather good one - a bit basic, but a good one - it seemed like there were very few members of the group that were following it - not that there seemed to be need for it as Zhevon arrived to the cafe with his contact.

Now, Davian was not much a man of luxury - he had met some nobility of different planets during his time, but had found them mostly selfish and self absorbed. Still... he had a card that could more or less buy anything. So he took a seat like any other fellow would, waited politely for the waitress like any other fellow would and ordered something to water his throat with. He was mid-way through his tea when the thought hit him and his fingers moved on his communicator again "...Silver, where did you run off to?"

The commissar's voice dug into his ears and he frowns slightly, this was the last thing Zach needed right now. While the man is not looking he lifts his hand and turns off his communications before resuming his business with the figure, and soon enough after succesful transaction he leaves the shady, hidden room and the alley with his fresh batch of relief. He walks away and into more respectable areas of the city before turning his comms back on and contacting back at Kreel.

"You called?" He states sarcastically while taking a seat."Did you miss me already, or did you actually have something important in your mind? The last I heard, I as well as anyone else is allowed to wander around freely until further notice." He keeps speaking with close to no respect in his voice at all."If it was about checking that I am still within the city walls, don't worry, I do not tend to leave the team, no matter what you might have heard with your very important personell sources. Ah, but I did not even give you a real chance to respond, where's the fire?"

Watchman. It would do as a nickname. Certainly wasn't any worse than some of the names he wore in his life.

Ben sat down at the bar and looked at the extensive menu. He looked up at the bartender who was looking at the sword on his back. "Sorry." Ben said, shrugging. Weapons openly worn were uncommon, but not rare it seemed to him. He ordered a recaf, and when it arrived he would sip on the drink, while looking over his shoulder occasionally.

Ben watched Adrianne make her way to a table that was on a ledge. If that's what she wanted to do, so be it. Ben was just trying to give the team direction. The commissar talked to him, saying something about not being able to blend. Ben sipped his recaf. "Ah, Commissar. I think that's where you're wrong. There are active Imperial guard units on this planet. If you're alone, you're just an offduty commissar. Seems you're hiding in plain sight." Ben would stop paying attention when the man went to chastising the Kasrkin among them.

"I see you located the Inquisitor. No danger right now?" Ben asked, idly, as he finished the recaf and signaled the bartender for another cup.

"Well, it is rather, unique. Easy to spot from a crowd - especially if they are expecting you." Adrianne said, glancing at Zhevon.
Zhevon slowly leaned back into his chair, in a bemused manner. "Really? Is it really that unique?" He asked.
"Best laid plans are doomed to failure Boss, or so it seems. Your call how to proceed, got eyes on you from my little posting." Stukov spoke though the communications system.

Zhevon hadn't really planned for much anyways. He sat there and tapped the chin of his helmet, "Give me a moment." He said to everyone. He got up and walked to the other side of the Cafe to a table where a single fat noble sat. "Excuse me sir, may I borrow some pen and paper?" Zhevon asked politely.
The fat noble turned to him slowly with a face of annoyance. "You dare disturb me? Do you know who I am, peon? You wear armor yet I will wager that you cannot even hold a sword up!" He insulted. He tapped Zhevons chestplate, "Is your armor made of plastic? It has no weight to it, no substance! It is fake!" By this time the noble had stood up from his seat and a good number of people were staring. The noble stood higher than the short Zhevon. "Where did you get this armor? It feels as if it was made by starving children!" He commented. "And this material," He roughly grabbed some of Zhevons robe, "It is coarser than sandpaper." He pushed Zhevon on the shoulder, making him step back. "If I had my own blade and armor, I would show you a real warrior." The noble spat on Zhevon's boot.
Most of the people in the Cafe were snickering now.

Zhevon looked down at his boot, and then back up to the noble. "Of course, my apologies." He then walked back to Adrianne's table and took his seat, his sandwich now on the table next to his tea. "So. That was interesting." He said to them, "It appears that not everyone knows. Judging by how he reacted and how many people were giggling. We will continue posing as we were then." He said over the communications, and to the others sitting at the table. "Now, onto business." He pulled out a dataslate and placed it on the table, images of the art gallery appeared. He kept the commlink on for the rest of his team. "This is our first destination. An art gallery that has raised an eyebrow, it's two stories high, and mostly features sculptures. Although there are other forms of art as well, paintings, etcetera." When nobody was looking, bits of the sandwich disappeared from small bites, and the tea as well. "I don't know what to expect in this art gallery, nor do I know what we will be looking for. So everyone will have to keep an eye out while we're there. I will leave first, then the rest of us will meet up at the front steps of the Gallery. Leave in twos or threes, take your time." He said, by this time his tea was finished and there was only about half of the sandwich left. He picked it up with his hands then got up and left the Cafe. "The Gallery is just down the street a few blocks to the right. Can't miss it." He said into the commlink, so that his entire retinue heard.

As he left the spaceport, he looked back at the massive tower and took a bite of his sandwich. Two massive statues stood guard at the entrance to the space port, each one holding a sword up to the stars, with impressive armor and chiseled faces. Zhevon swore they were looking right back at him. He looked away and walked down the street, finishing his sandwich and picking up a small book from a magazine and newspaper stand. When he arrived at the large Gallery, he examined it. It was on an elevated platform, stairs lead up to the entrance of the Gallery. It was different than most Imperial architecture, emulating ancient Terran culture, it had massive stone columns and multiple doors. The building itself appeared to be made out of the same stone, it was like a work of art in of itself. He sat on one of the twenty steps leading up to the Gallery, which was closed, and opened his book, reading it to pass the time.

Adrianne would watch the scene of Zhevon and the nobleman with a shed of bemusement, before returning to her usual stoic facial expression as she finished the last remnants of her espresso.

"Are you sure you do not want anyone to,-" Adrianne was about to ask when Zhevon turned to walk out of the Cafe, but the inquisitor had already left before she could finish her question.

If this reckless attitude had been the norm with the inquisitor, Adrianne would be surprised at how the man could have stayed alive for as long as he had. It would not surprise her if they came to the gallery, only to find their venerable inquisitor abducted and kidnapped by a creepy cult of artists following the twisted tenets of the prince of pleasure.

Rolling her eyes, she would place her now empty cup back onto the table before gazing out across the table at the others.

"The Inquisitor's message was clear enough." She would comment, tilting her head ever so slightly.
"Who here will come with me then? I know a shortcut to the main floor."

Stukov was ready to draw if the fat noble acted to be any sort of real danger to the Inquisitor and his well being, beyond just a fool of an insulting waste of the flesh. As one could reasonably expect, however, there was no such threat to be seen as the fat man did, at most, spit on the Inquisitor's boot and return to what he was doing. Guess it seemed not everyone knew who the man was. Good, that made things easier to a degree. But how did that one woman know he was an inquisitor when the fat man clearly didn't? There was something amiss in that disjunction of information how a mere serving woman would know something a connected noble would not. And such men would have probably done well not to incur the wrath of an Inquisitor, if what he has seen of Imperial solutions to problems. But that was neither here nor there now that the Inquisitor began speaking on the plan.

The plan was to scope out an art gallery, which was odd but he didn't question the how or why it was raising eyebrows. That kind of thinking was well above his paygrade, but statues are not something he found comforting. Smart person could probably hide with something like that, maybe why the concerns were being raised, some dark background or something no one was telling them. Either way, they were walking right into this place, with no idea of how it was laid out, security, or any such potential problems. That also did not sit well with Stukov, he was a man who preferred to have a plan at all times, and back ups to those when things went south in a hurry. But he really didn't have a say in the matter, and with the Inquisitor running off, he didn't even get to suggest sending help with him in case things were indeed bad, evil, and all that jazz. But the psyker made a suggestion to head out, and he resisted nodding from his table, instead standing and speaking over the comm system.

"I have this gut feeling I'll regret agreeing to this, but I'm with you Smiles, if no one else is over eager to tag along."

"I have this gut feeling I'll regret agreeing to this, but I'm with you Smiles, if no one else is over eager to tag along."

Adrianne was quick to eye Stukov across the cafe as the man was the first to speak through the comm and present himself as a willing candidate to escort her. She had expected a lot more hesitation from the rest of the group, and Stukov's bravery in volunteering to accompany the only psyker was a welcoming change.

"That's wonderful." Adrianne would reply over the comm, before she picked up her helmet as she stood up from the table. Putting her skeletal helmet back onto her head with a click and pressurizing it, she would turn her attention over to a small screen attached to her wrist-mounted computer on her left armored glove. Pressing a single button, one of the small lights would flash yellow and emit a tiny 'beep'.

Holding out her arm, her staff; which had been resting by the coffee table; would suddenly become animated and fly right into her hand as if pulled by invisible threads.

"I will be waiting for you by the glass wall." She instructed Stukov through her comm, as the psyker ventured through the cafe to walk up to the wall of large glass panels separating the cafe room from the massive lobby hall.

Walking over to one of the glass doors that was closed shut, with a clear "Not in use." sign attached to the handle, she'd sweep the open palm of her glove across the keyhole and the door would suddenly click and swing open. On the other side of the glass door was... literally nothing, except a multi-storied clear drop down onto the main floor of the spaceport lobby at least fifty feet below.

"Quick question: Do you prefer the immaterium or the physical world, armsman?" Adrianne would suddenly ask over the comm to Stukov as she stood in the doorway, gazing back into the cafe at Stukov as she waited for him.

After listening to the Inquisitor issue his orders, Ben would pay for his drinks, and stand up. Putting his hands in his pockets, he made his way out the door, and started the walk to the gallery. He looked around, reminded in some ways of his home, but otherwise, didn't really ruminate on many things. He scanned around for possible threats, and stopped to buy a pack of lhosticks.

Errand completed, he started walking again, and removed one stick from the carton, and put it in his mouth. Ben pulled a lighter from his pocket, and lit it, drawing in the smoke, and exhaling it through his nostrils.

When he arrived at the gallery, he took what was left of the thing from his mouth with his left hand and rolled it between his metal fingers until the fire was out, and then flicked the remnants onto the ground.

Ben looked at the Inquisitor. He knew that man was older than him by a few years, but he didn't look it. "You know, it all burns." Ben said, idly. He gestured around him and everything. "Hive cities. The people who live here think they're a fortress. Untouchable, and some sort of redoubt against anything. But they're just big slaughterhouses."

Ben put his hands in his pockets, and hunched a little as if he was cold. He sniffled before continuing. "You ever lead one of the big wars?" he asked. "I'm guessing no. bit young for it, bit nice." Ben said, not really waiting for a reply. "I know, kindness isn't weakness and all that. I met one who wasn't kind. He was like some animal who had been kicked and was looking for someone to bite."

Ben kept going, on some sort of tangent now. "Back on Armageddon, my platoon leader, some young Lieutenant got himself killed, and I was the highest rank NCO. So they promoted me for a bit and made me lead. And my unit was fighting in a hive city. Don't even remember which one anymore. And it was this fuckin' meatgrinder. They just told us everyday to keep moving forward, and I know what they say about orks. They're stupid, but they're cunning. Traps everywhere, ambushes, enfilade fire. We'd have to dismount for engineers to clear rubble and then they'd shoot us to bits." Ben swallowed loudly like he was having trouble with the story.

"And one day, they pull my unit from the front. And here I am, dirty, I haven't shaved. Haven't slept more than an hour a day if that, no ammo, hungry. And this private comes up to me and tells me an Inquisitor wants to see me. So I go, right, not like I can say no. And he's thinkin' big war stuff, and asking me these questions that made me want to kill him. How many bodies did I lose, what did I learn, can I learn more with more bodies, how long until we take this street or that block. And all I can think about is how they aren't bodies, or fuckin' meat in a goddamn slaughterhouse. That they're Jan whose intestines I held as she died, or Ken who got cut in half in an ambush."

At this point, Ben pulled out another lho-stick, and lit it on fire. "I dunno what the point is. I dunno. I guess thanks for not being that kind of Inquisitor. At least to our faces." Ben said, looking up at Zhevon. Ben sighed loudly and spit. "Think we're going to see anything down here?" Ben asked.

Stukov nodded as he made sure he had all his belongings, drink was paid for, and with everything taken care of he made his way towards the psyker where she had indicated. He had to wonder what the woman had in mind for a shortcut to get them where they were going, the main floor in specific, but he had already given his word that he would be accompanying Smiles along the way to the gallery. She was armed up, and helmeted again, which would make facial reading difficult to say the least, but he glanced over the edge of the way she opened, noting the rather sheer drop rather calmly.

Heights did not over bother Stukov much, or he hadn't assumed so. Seeing the world and being threatened with being hauled out into the void of space, versus plummeting under the unrelenting force of planetary gravity, seemed to be two different things entirely. Unnerving to think of how one might plummet such a way, but not in any paralyzing manner. But certainly unnerving. Probably some form of warp trickery was planned to guide them down to the main level. But she seemed to offer some choice in the matter, whether it was warp space or real space.

"Both have their problems, Smiles, personal preference remains in the physical world. But whatever gets us down there, as best as you see fit, I'll manage. Won't be my first time coming face to face with warp space..." Referencing his first ship's Gellar fields failing and letting the Warp into the ship itself. Not a pleasant thought to cross his mind as he stood by the psyker and considered how she would go about this shortcut of hers. She had recalled that staff of hers via telekinesis, or whatever it was called, so perhaps a grander form of that trickery? He didn't know and kept his peace, waiting for the orders from Smiles on how to go about this little trick of hers. Should be a show for the other arrivals of the group, regardless.

"I'll manage. Won't be my first time coming face to face with warp space..."

Behind her mask, Adrianne would smile. It was the response she had hoped for.

"I was hoping you would say that." She spoke through her helmet, before suddenly extending her arm forward to grab a hold of Stukov's chest. The moment she touched the armsman, it was as if all the forces of gravity let go off him, and the world around him disappeared into an endless, black hole! Instead, he was being pulled in every direction, up, down and sideways.

But the whole experience was over in the blink of an eye, when he suddenly appeared again with Adrianne in a dimly lit, grand office of some kind.

Almost immediately, a loud crash could be heard from besides them, as sitting on a large desk was an old, high priest of some kind who just fell off his chair when Adrianne and Stukov suddenly appeared out of nowhere in front of him!

"By the-oh, emperor preserve me!" The old man screamed in terror as he landed on the floor, grabbing his chest as if he had almost had a heart attack.
"Demonspawns! Warp fiends! GUARDS! GUARDS!"

"Hmm... " Adrianne would mutter, gazing around at the room which seemed to belong to some kind of grand cathedral of some kind.
"We are a little off."

She would say as she studied their surroundings, before suddenly grabbing Stukov once again, and repeated the same process of teleportation!

The room would disappear, only for them to reappear in a kitchen of some kind. The surrounding kitchen staff would quickly turn around to look at the new arrivals with faces of surprise, and Adrianne would shake her head once again.

"Nope."

*ZAP*

Another teleportation, and they would finally appear right in the open street in front of the spaceport! Most of the bystanders, busy with their own daily activities, had completely missed the instantaneous teleportation. All except for the odd mailman who looked utterly gobsmacked.

"That's not normal. Usually I get it right on the first try. Apologizes for that." Adrianne would comment, tilting her head slightly as she looked at the street around them, before focusing on Stukov next to her.
"Let's just walk the rest of the way to the gallery. It should be just around the corner."

Before Stukov could say a word about Smiles grabbing the front of his shirt, he was gone into the Warp for a split second. Even more unpleasant outside a ship experiencing the same thing than inside of it, and the sense of getting stretched in every direction was just unpleasant, and sickening to put it mildly. When they first came out he staggered a bit, getting his legs under him as he looked around to take in his surroundings, ignoring the screaming priest for a few moments before looking at him. "Warp spawn would have already been on you, Father, so calm yourself. We're just passing through."

Before he could say anything to Smiles they were gone through the warp again, that very same pulling in all directions was still as unpleasant as before. But once the void spat them back out, they found themselves in some kitchen area with equally surprised staff and he smirked under his rebreather, throwing up another comment to keep his mind off the rather harsh feeling of warp travel before being yanked back into the warp by the psyker. "Just passing through, go ahead and burn something to spite the fat nobles."

And with that, once more Stukov was flying through the warp with Smiles before they finally landed near the Gallery, and he stood up and caught his breath as the psyker spoke on how she normally got the teleport right on the first try and he managed a shrug as he got his bearings straight, ignoring the mailman and his rather surprised look. "Reckon you aren't used to moving an extra body Smiles, might not have helped. I do appreciate not getting lost along the way though, that was not a feeling I enjoy. Looks like it was faster than walking anyways, detours and all, so well done on that. Suppose we should catch up with our Boss then, yea?"

Stukov didn't just outright spout Inquisitor, which would have blown cover most likely, and reverted to his typical nickname for the Inquisitor. Fit his role in the group as their leader, after all. But that was neither here nor there, so he stood ready to continue escorting Smiles the rest of the way to the art gallery from where they were at, as he had indeed volunteered for in the grand scheme of things.

"Reckon you aren't used to moving an extra body Smiles,"

Behind her mask, Adrianne would grimace as if Stukov's had just inflicted her physical pain with his words alone! Furrowing her brows, she resisted turning her head to Stukov, instead looking straight forward. Fortunately for her, her skeletal helmet hid pretty much any facial expression she ever made, though did not offer much concealment if she were to make the armsman airborne and send him floating away to the highest spires of the city!

She hated when people commented on failed spells, whether it was to criticize or patronize. It drove her insane faster than any corrupting influence of the old gods ever could! She had not spent the vast majority of her life practicing the arts of a psyker only to be laughed at! She despised when people commented on her abilities!

... unless it was meant as a praise, in which case it was always welcome!

"Normally... " Adrianne would finally begin to speak, the psyker having started walking alongside Stukov towards the gallery.
"I have teleported entire strike teams of up to six people at a time before. One body is usually no problem, unless there is a disturbance in the warp... "

" ... or I'm just unfamiliar with the geography, emperor-dammit!"

She had once almost managed to teleport an entire valkyrie before, but that was a story she rarely recalled to people. Mostly because she had only managed to teleport half of it, thereby literally slicing the expensive machine in two and causing an irreparable degree of damage! It would have been impressive if not for the fact she had pretty much destroyed it in the process!

As they walked, a short flight of stairs was all they had to walk and appear on an elevated walkway before the massive imperial gallery came into view at the top!

While they approached the edge, a slight humming noise would emanate from above them, as soon Adrianne's servo-skull would appear down from the sky to hover down next to its mistress.

"M4R1-A: Initiate Symbiote. Initiate Area surveillance. Give Priority: Target 136, 271, 381, 591, 129." Adrianne would speak out as she turned to look towards the floating servo skull next to them. M4R1-A would emit a small beeping noise from its skull, one of its eyes flashing red as it scanned the scenery in front of them.

Soon, Adrianne could green triangles appearing over her visors, shifting across the moving crowd; until one of them, carrying the numbers 591, locked onto a peculiar individual wearing a leather jacket by the stairs of the gallery walking towards the gallery, before stopping to speak to a person holding a newspaper. Shortly after, another green triangle would appear over the second individual, carrying the code 136. Zooming in, Adrianne would recognize Ben conversing with the Inquisitor, standing about three hundred feet away from Adrianne and Stukov.

"It appears we have found Ben together with our benevolent In,-." Adrianne was about to speak when she suddenly noticed the gaze she was receiving from Stukov standing next to her, and decided to cut her last word.
" ... our 'Boss'."

...

"So, how do you want us to approach them?" Adrianne would then ask, looking towards Stukov.
"We could teleport or... if you wanted to make a dramatic entrance, I could slingshot you to them!"