Zhevon saw Adrianne press the garage door open button with her psychic abilities, but nothing happened. Maybe the door was malfunctioning? Or dust in the air was interfering with it's signal, it's not every day a mansion gets pounded by an artillery strike. She grumbled, clearly displeased. Zhevon thought of going out and lifting the gate himself, it would be a relatively easy task compared to some of the things he's had to lift before in the past, but his Psyker suddenly shouted,

"Screw this, we're using this armored truck for what it's good for!" and floored the gas. The gate despite it's purpose as a gate didn't even slow the raging Taurox APC, smashing through as if it weren't there. The sudden acceleration pushed the Inquisitor back into the ring of the turret. He liked this machine more and more, although it's driver was a little too quick to jump into action. He glanced back to Cath, the acceleration should only just move the stretcher, but he had to make sure. Adrianne shouted that they had company, and as Zhevon fought against the inertia to get back upright into the turret, he heard the distinct pang then sizzle of lasgun fire on armor. Luckily the Taurox, even though lightly armored, had enough armor to defend its occupants against lasgun fire. Although anything much larger than that would probably punch through. Adrianne remarked that they weren't welcome.
Zhevon grabbed the gun controls and swung the turret around, sighting in the twin-linked autocannons. He stopped once he got a good eye in on his targets, they wore very familiar armor, and he spotted a Leman Russ tank near them as well. He leaned over,
"Adrianne, they appear to be-!" He was pushed back into the turret ring by the sudden burst of speed, "Guardsmen!"
Although he had no guarantee that she heard him. He saw that she was driving them into the gardens. Undoubtably would be rougher terrain, Zhevon climbed out of the turret as the Taurox ran over shrubberies, small trees, even a stone statue. He struggled to make his way to the back, making it just in time to hear,
"I hope you guys remembered your seatbelts!"
Zhevon took extra care to make sure that Cath didn't fly too far away or too far up from her make shift stretcher. Then came the landing. After a few moments of stabilizing, Zhevon got back up. Likely with bruised knees and elbows.
"Those looked like guardsmen, didn't they?" Adrianne asked, looking out the window slits.
Then the weaponfire towards them halted, "Yeah, I think they were Guardsmen, or PDF." Zhevon groaned a reply, "Alright... Let's head back to the safehouse."

Their comms crackled to life when they heard jet engines approaching.
“This is Celestian Aviza to Inquisitor Zhevon and squad, I am rapidly approaching your position. Currently heading back to the safe house to send to a couple injures then will make my way to Ecclesiarchal Chapel to report the findings to Canoness Superior Andromedai once healed. Keep in mind that she will undoubtedly want your presence there alongside mine for the report. Also, head’s up in about ten seconds.”
Roughly ten seconds later the engines ended up right above them, then roared away as the ship flew off.
Zhevon sighed, "She must have requisitioned a transport." he stated the obvious, his day was about to get a good amount worse. Having to apologize to the Commander of those Guardsmen, if they even knew, explaining the botched mission to the Canoness Superior, who would no doubt give them an earful. Although they were a daemon-hunting team, not exactly a cult infiltration team. He turned to Cath behind him, "Are you alight? That was a rather bumpy ride."

"Are you alight? That was a rather bumpy ride."

"What the... "

While the Inquisitor was looking to the unfortunate Catherine in the back of the car, telling her that the worst was over; Adrianne on the other hand was peering out of the armored window slits of the taurox, giving the hovering valkyrie a big stink-eye as it lifted back up into the air and began to fly ahead.

"Cheating show-off!"

Not only had the sister of battle gotten herself a valkyrie gunship, but she had also gone the length to show off right above their vehicle!

While she did not know about the rest of the people in the taurox, Adrianne was certianly of a mind that she would not be outdone by one of the sisters of battle, even if the latter was in possession of a gunship!

"Hold on, this show isn't over yet!" Adrianne would call out to the rest of the occupants in the taurox, before revving up the gear and pushing down the gas as she once again began accelerating - now racing through the maze like streets of the city in a heavily armored Taurox! As they picked up speed in the narrow roads and corridor like tunnels that they passed by in mere seconds, Adrianne began to channel her ability of precognition, giving her brief glimpses into the near, almost immediate future. A second or two ahead of time was all she needed in order to prepare a turn as they rounded a corner in order to avoid a cart parked immediately in the middle of the road, or predict an elderly woman about to cross the road just as they exited a tunnel - narrowly missing the latter as the armored taurox raced past a rather terrified-but-still-alive pedestrian!

To any non psyker; that being the entire rest of the passengers in the taurox; it could almost seem as if Adrianne was driving like a madwoman, narrowly missing pedestrians and objects out of pure, dumb luck while driving at a speed that would have guaranteed a crash to most normal drivers!

"We're almost there... " Adrianne muttered as she could see the rise with the safehouse, including the landing pad and the valkyrie that had just touched down on it!

"No way she's getting in before me!"

"Hold on!"

Driving into the courtyard, Adrianne would slam the brakes before suddenly vanishing in her seat in a small explosion of purple light!

The taurox, with its driver now gone but its brakes activated, would screech towards the front of the building before stopping no less than a few meters away from the nearest fence; tilting slightly to the side before slamming back down with a heavy thud as it came to a complete stop!

*

In the meantime, on top of the landing pad by the safehouse, Aviza could hear a whiplash effect coming from behind her!

Before she would have a chance to turn around, she would see Adrianne fly past her, still carrying her momentum from the car; landing on the ground in front of her whereupon she made a combat roll forward!

"Too-late!" Adrianne would comment as she quite literally flew past the sister of battle!

However, the roll, despite being expertely executed, would not be sufficient to dissipate the momentum still in her, causing Adrianne to keep flying backwards as she passed Aviza and right into the glass door of the safehouse; shattering it as the psyker crashed into it and continued back into the safehouse! However, before she could fall a second time, she teleported again, this time reappearing a bit further inside the safehouse and slamming into the embrace of the couch - facing Aviza!

"You're getting slow!" Adrianne would remark from where she sat after a brief confusion, smirking at Aviza.

In addition to the now broken glass door, there was also a poignant smell of sulfur in the air emanating from the place Adrianne had first teleported from after crashing into the apartment. The psyker did not seem to pay it any attention as she was sitting in the couch with her staff, her dress ruined and shredded beyond repair, and a big, triumphant, shit-eating grin on her face!

As the insane woman behind the wheel drove the vehicle, Cath felt each of her broken bones move and cause her immense pain after each fast change in direction or when they were landing after a small jump or bump in the road. She clenched her teeth as she took extreme care not to shout or cry from the pain.

“It bloody… hurts…” Cath replied, as she breathed heavily under all the stress and vibration the travel with this vehicle driven by insane person caused her. And then to make the matter even worse, Adrianne started driving even more like a madman. Cath couldn’t keep it anymore as she began screaming and crying for her wounds started to hurt more and more from the intense movement her body was subject to. Each bump in the road felt like a nail piercing her flesh, each sudden turn was like being hit by a hammer.

The crowned moment of pain was when the Taurox came to a sudden halt and the psyker left the vehicle. Cath cried from the sudden surge of intense pain as a few tears started roll down her face. She rarely cried, but this pain was too much. From the insane driving, one of her only cracked ribs actually broke.

“I’M GOING TO KILL HER!” She said through the tears.” PLEASE LET ME JUST KILL HER!! AAAAAAAGGGGGGGGHHHHH…” She cried, through the pain.” DAMN YOU, YOU PSYCHO!” She shouted, unable to keep it anymore." It hurts to breath..."

"Hold on, this show isn't over yet!" Adrianne called over to them,
Zhevon responded with a flat, "What," before being pushed back to the rear wall of the Taurox as the Psyker gunned the engine once again. He rolled his eyes and decided to just sit there and wait it out, making sure Cath didn't roll over or move too much. Even though he wasn't seeing out of the viewports, he could hear the near misses and the honking of horns. Adrianne must have been pulling off more than a few close calls. While for Cath this may have been a terror show, Zhevon knew better. With nothing much else to do aside from sit, try not to get thrown around, and try to make sure Cath didn't get thrown around, he thought about the ride he was currently on. Was it really reckless driving if the driver could predict all movements of traffic? As Cath began to yell as the pain got worse, Zhevon began to look for some sort of medkit... Although his search wouldn't be very fruitful with just his eyes. He did notice several shelves tucked underneath the seats in the back.

Adrianne then yelled to hold on. Zhevon braced himself and when the brakes were locked into place, he slid across the floor of the Taurox. He caught a seat and opened the box underneath it. Magazines. He crawled to the next and opened it, revealing a large sized medkit. He assumed correctly, any good big-game hunter would carry a medkit around. Well, any person with sense and a car like this would keep a medkit in it. He flipped the locks on it and rummaged through the gauze, antibiotics, looking for the painkillers while Cath continued to yell curses. After a second, he found several autoinjectors of painkillers. He grabbed one and stuck it in Cath's thigh, although it wouldn't fix any of her injuries, it would dull the pain.
He tapped his comms, "If you two are done competing, I would like to add a reminder that we have a person here with numerous injuries. Who has probably sustained even more injuries on the ride here." He closed his eyes for a moment and sat on a nearby seat, switching off his mic, "I am terribly sorry about this. They tend to get passionate."

The guards intercepted him before he could keep up with Boss as he was discussing the painting of some sort or another with another guard. Stukov left his hands linked behind his back as the guards surrounded him, weapons not quite raised but clearly ready for trouble. Soldiers, or at least experienced fighters, then. Their sergeant spoke, facing him, while he tracked the other seven with the mirrors and other reflective surfaces nearby. Old trick, that, keeping up with surroundings outside immediate field of view with the surroundings themselves. "Sir, I hate to interrupt you, but we require your presence and cooperation elsewhere. If you would be so kind as to relinquish your blade and come with us, the amount of unpleasantness can be mitigated." Stukov watched as Boss was marched off and he could vaguely hear trouble going on elsewhere, and he sighed and rolled his eyes as his hand rested on the hilt of the force saber. And without any warning his fist slammed home into the sergeant's face, blue afterimage lingering as he skidded to a halt, the Sergeant dead on impact with the opposing wall. Well, shit, he was going to have to get used to this proper. "Well, that went a bit more drastically than intended, eh lads? Be good boys and drop the weapons, I really don't have the time or energy to..."

Stukov launched himself into the first two men to raise their weapons fully, saber flashing out and passing through each of them as easily as a hot blade through butter. Which was disturbing to watch them literally just fall into neat pieces as he watched, in disturbingly slow motion, the other men try to react to his movements. So, this was what he was dealing with, condition wise, in that he was able to accelerate his own movements and reactions to the point of the rest of the world seemed to nearly stand still. This would have been damn useful so many years ago, if he had to look at an upside of this whole mess. Flourishing the blade, he casually moved through the remaining men, taking them apart like so many statues. No, statues put up a worse fight than this, he had to remind himself of that, thinking back to that damn hallway. But now the whole room was full of panicking people, gunfire and sounds of other psyker powers going off could be heard, and it just dawned on him his hard shifts and sudden stops had set the voicebox of his on the fritz as he had lost any way of communicating on the vox. Well, that was unfortunate, and as he stood among the bodies of the dead guards he sighed. "Doesn't anything ever go according to fucking plan, at least once, maybe? No? Warp take all of you then..."

He could feel, and hear, Smiles letting loose with her powers after the muted sound of bolter fire could be heard and the former Armsman sighed, sheathing his blade. Well, any prelude of subtly was gone already so to hell with it. Drawing his sidearm, he fired several rounds into the air and grabbed everyone's attention. "Look you lot, terror attacks are regrettable things, but now isn't the time to be panicking. Each of you should know where the escapes are, I would advise leaving. Now." That got people moving, surviving guards who weren't present for his little display taking advantage of the apparently seasoned Naval Officer dispatching orders and evacuating apparently innocent people from a sudden assault on the place. He vanished into the crowd, moving upwards instead of making his way for the exits. From the sounds of things and the chaos was that the rest of the group was already heading out, but the Vastok fellow couldn't be the only thing useful here. And he was not going back empty handed, relatively speaking. Moving up the stairs, he was barely able to duck behind several dead power armored cunts piled up on the ground to evade incoming fire. Half a dozen guards, probably saw what he did on the security system and were moving to intercept.

The fire was staggered by twos, one set firing, another set reloading, the third on standby. Smart, he couldn't advance into open fire no matter how fast he was. Well, he might be fast enough to evade the rounds for a second or two tops, but he wasn't gambling right now. Something came to mind, the warp frost that had been forming in his quarters before, and reached out to that cold of the void. The temperature in the hallway plummeted, and the gunfire rapidly stopped and he could hear shivering curses from the guards as their weapons seized up and froze, never used to this level of exposure to such cold. They themselves were not functioning very well either, he could hear their increasingly clumsy actions as their bodies chilled and frostbite set in. Vaulting the pile of corpses, he brought his Naval Pistol to bear, watching the weapon cycle as each round flew out of its barrel, slamming into the increasingly frozen fools at the other end of the hallway. Touching down and watching time speed up to normal, he wheezed as a splitting headache slammed into him, overstretching himself like last time. "Right, moderation is key..."

With the guards cleared out, Stukov kept moving, saber sheathed and pistol in his left hand. Passing numerous ruined corpses and rooms made him think this little search of his was futile. However, he did manage to stumble across Vastok’s personal office, or at least the big name on the front of the door seemed to indicate as much. That, and the door was locked. Frowning, he looked at the needlessly complicated looking locking system on the handle and leveled his pistol at it. ”Fancy, expensive, and probably would take a really, really good cogboy to put together. Lucky me, it only takes an idiot with a gun shaped master key to open it up. With that, he unloaded the rest of his magazine into the door handle before putting a firm, mighty, and inorganic boot through the door, sending it flying open and bits of wood and metal clung to his now exposed augmatic left foot. No one was home, it seemed, as Stukov reloaded and walked over to the desk and began rifling through the paperwork. The sound of artillery made him look up, seeing an exploding Valkyrie and making him cock an eyebrow. ”Those are Earthshakers? Huh, thought they would make a bigger splash. Maybe I’m too used to the Macro Batteries. Sounds like I might want to get out of here in a hurry, then.”

The very solemn click of a bolter coming off its safety made Stukov pause, a folder full of likely incriminating information in his hand, as he spotted the form of a Euphorian in the window’s reflection. Great, he had a fuzzy memory of seeing their corpses as he was being hauled out of that cultist den, and he could only imagine the kind of trouble they could cause someone if they wanted to. Sighing, he palmed the pistol into its holster, not like the thing would punch through power armor anyways, and made a show of raising both hands into the air while making an off comment, the bionic voicebox crackling slightly as he spoke. "Right, which one do you lot serve, again? I can never keep you cults straight these days." Looking at her armor and its rather expressive, generous form, he would have to guess Slaaneshi in nature, which he would not be wrong in as a cold voice spoke from the armor, but clearly female.

"Slaanesh, and Lucia told me of you, renegade psyk-URK!" Stukov snarled and spun, eyes glowing icy blue as the force saber slammed into her bolter, sending her reeling back from the impact as pieces of the bolter went flying across half the room. He didn't take kindly to being called renegade, or psyker (True as it may be now), and both just made him angry. But he remembered something Boss had told him. Speed and finesse were key points in using a saber, and he was not finesse in the slightest. Speed, though, he could do speed. But the thought did dawn on him as the bitch in power armor drew her own sword, spouting some drivel on how Slaanesh would reward him greatly if he swore fealty to the Dark Gods, endowment and more of anything he could ever want without end. Cracking his neck, he tightened the grip on his saber and ducked forward, locking blades and being repelled back several steps, narrowly avoiding each swing of the power armored woman's attacks.

Stukov's mind raced while he kept up with the Euphorian. She was faster than he had expected, and he was having to use his powers to keep up. Power armor meant more strength, she was probably actually a trained swordswoman, but she was likely unaware of a lovely fact. Stukov shined when he was facing stronger foes, he improvised and struggled his way this far, and there was no way he was going to let some fancy swordplay change that now. Forcing another locking of blades, he twisted sideways, fist rocketing into her helmet and let loose a blast of near absolute zero cold. The helmet saved her, but it did send her reeling and slamming into a wall, helmet shattering from how brittle it was suddenly made. She was...rather attractive actually, barring that ugly tattoo marking her as a servant of Slaanesh. And she did not look pleased in the slightest with the situation that she found herself in. "Surprised? Seems like I ain't a one trick pony after all."

Stukov had mixed feelings about that, which he would have to address later as the two reengaged in combat, blades clashing and a lot of narrow misses on both sides. The Euphorian would probably last longer, Stukov could only push his use of the warp for so long. Things needed to change, and fast. Flooding the sabre with energy, it screamed and seemed to radiate near absolute zero cold, flash freezing and shattering the Euphorian's blade, explosively, which sent shrapnel into his left side. Grunting, he watched the blade neatly bisect the Euphorian and send each half toppling to the ground. The blade cut off, and he nearly fell over from the exertion. Definately needed to work on endurance if he was going to play with this rather cold fire. Grabbing the bundle of folders from the desk he slipped them into the inner pocket, on his right side to avoid bloodying them, and grunted as he listened to artillery make things rather unstable. It was about that point that a shell hit the floor beneath him, and Stukov managed to utter a curse before plummeting downwards through the rapidly crumbling floor. "Oh hell, not this again...."

Stukov went downwards fast, skidding along the debris and straight through a shattering window, and the only reason he didn't plummet to his likely death was fast thinking, the former Armsman hanging from the wall with his knife embedded in the wall, slowly going down still at a painfully slow rate. His left side was on fire, figuratively, but the artillery was falling silent finally so he looked at his situation. Several stories high, dangling from an increasingly untenable situation, probably would not survive the fall as is. In all respects, not good at all. Swinging backwards, he wrenched the knife clear and grabbed onto the ledge beneath him, watching it shatter apart as his weight hit it and sent him slamming down into another overhang outside a window, which collapsed after such weight was applied after its stability was already barely there. But, careening through the wood and material did slow his descent enough for him to survive landing among the rubble. Not that he was particularly happy about that. At least more than his left side hurt like hell now, but he did force himself to his feet, looking back at the not so splendid mansion with a groan. "I cannot believe I am saying this, but life was simpler as an Armsman before this Inquisition nonsense...."

Lilith was caught completely unaware as Stukov came tumbling down on top of her. Hurriedly doing a backwards roll out of the way of the plummeting man, she whipped out her dual bolt pistols and aimed them at the figure now laying on the rubble. Thankfully she had managed to hold onto her cloak and remain invisible to both the Guard detachment in the room, and whoever had nearly fallen on her just now.

He seemed human at least, and considering his profound lack of spiky armor, extreme body modification, missing entrails, or bird beak, likely not another Chaos cultist. So he probably wouldn’t try to murder her.

Probably.

Granted, she had just nearly joined the Slaaneshi cult that was under assault and had refrained for… rather “heretical” reasons, so there was no guarantee he wouldn’t try to rip her throat out anyway. At least with Khornate Cultists she knew where she stood.

Heaven help her if he was with the Inquisition howev- he was with the Inquisition. Granted he didn’t seem to be a particularly fanatical member, which boded well. She weighed the positives and negatives of saying something to him in her mind: One the one hand, being with the Inquisition would let her get out of here with considerably fewer laser holes, but then he might turn out to be a little nuts after all and attempt to interrogate her. She could probably kill him before he had a chance to do much, but killing Inquisitors or Inquisitorial Agents in general was unlikely to engender warm fuzzies between the rest of the Imperium and herself.

“Well, considering how the average Guardsman’s job is ‘get killed in a human wave attack’, I would assume anything more than that would be considerably more complicated.” She piped up, slowly revealing herself to him while keeping herself out of the line of site of the guards nearby. Holding a bolt pistol level with his head, she cocked an eyebrow, “Let me guess, you’re yet another part of the Inquisitorial mission here that I was never informed of?”

Stukov considered turning at a very rapid speed towards the voice, but he was probably being covered by some sort of weapon. She did make a valid point, though, in the fact that unless your job was run face first into heavy bolter nests and die, it did take some forethought of some sort or another. He didn’t raise his hands or anything though, but he did turn steadily towards the voice, hands jammed into his pockets with apparent lack of care towards any guards or the like. ”You seem to have the situation about surrounded. To be fair, I didn’t know about this mission, or the Inquisition in general, for terribly much longer than you seem to have. So, we going to keep pointing pistols at each other, Gear Gal, or shall we try and be civil long enough to not be near a cult infested mansion that has been shelled rather recently?”

Stukov was aware of the fact that, should this woman not try and be reasonable, things would get ugly fast. He might have to exert himself again, and the fact he was openly bleeding from his left side, dripping out from under the carapace chest plate, was not helping matters overly much. Well, she seemed reasonable enough, more reasonable than the last Emperor knows how many people he had dealt with so far in this mansion, so that was a plus. Downside was Cog Boys, or girls in this case, tended to not operate on the same level of reason and rational that other, more fleshy people tended to. So they would see, wouldn’t they?

“I’m only pointing this at you out of concern for my well being. The Inquisition isn’t known for being understanding or willing to ask questions first and execute later.” She paused, quirking an eyebrow again. “Honestly you’re probably fine, seeing how if you were a particularly fanatical one you would’ve probably tried to shoot me just for saying that.” Lowering the weapon, she reclined into the wall, still making sure to keep her camo cloak concealing her from the guards nearby. “Don’t think I can’t rip your throat out before you can blink if you do try something however.” She scowled at him, giving him an excellent view of the large retractable claws on her cybernetics. “Let’s start with you, then I’ll go. Who the hell are you? I know there’s an Inquisitorial group here, since Aviza decided to threaten to kill me about three times. But I would be so… honored,” she paused, letting the sarcasm ooze from her words, “to know just who I’m sharing this pile of rubble with while I hide from the Guard.”

”I wouldn’t sweat mentioning things for well being. I get that whole lovely set of trouble. Boss tends to work differently, far as I read him at least. And trust me, if I went all fanatical, it would be hypocrisy at best.” Stukov removed the hands from his pockets as the Gear Girl lowered her weapon as well as she reclined, hiding from the guards. Their attention was likely too focused on the internal problems to worry about outside the place by now. Then again, the aggressors had fled, so it was possible for them to go looking. But he would burn that bridge once he crossed it. ”You might be underestimating me there, Gear Girl, but that’s a bridge to burn another day.

Stukov sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose when Aviza was mentioned threatening her life. Emperor damn them, the Sisters tended to get hot headed over nothing. But he shook his head of the thought, answering her question. After all, foxholes didn’t put up with secrets, far as the Imperial Guard had told him, or was it some other way? Who knows, but he did answer her question without much wasted time. ”Alexei Stukov, Senior Naval Armsman, pressed into service with the Inquisition. I wouldn’t pay Sis, Aviza I mean, much attention. And no, no biological relation, I nickname everyone, usually before learning their real name. So, who am I honored to share this pile of rubble with? Stukov reflected the sarcasm that the Gear Girl had put into her words, smirking. It was a good distraction, for the time being, until they could make a speedy escape.

“Lilith C’plesples Silvanni, experienced Enginseer, assigned to as many backwater planets as possible to avoid having to interact with me because I haven’t replaced my breasts with information gathering equipment.” She paused, “And something tells me my nickname is Gear Girl, then. I give you an F for originality, in that case. Be ashamed, be very ashamed. Work on your nicknames, they’re terrible.”

Dropping the banter, she jerked a thumb at the cluster of guards, “So what do you want to do to get us out of this mess, oh Inquisitorial agent? I could probably sneak out if I wanted to, but that would probably involve murdering a few of them, and I’ve never been as comfortable doing that as everyone else seems to be.” She gestured to her armaments, “And even if I was, I can’t sneak you out, and I’m not exactly equipped for a frontal assault on that group. If it was just the infantry sure, but they’ve got more tanks than I do melt-” she froze, “How are we still alive…?”

Muttering to herself, she ran some mental calculations before looking back up at Stukov. “Whatever course of action we prefer, we should probably get out of here sooner rather than later. I maaaaay have wired this building with hundreds of melta bombs before learning there were Inquisitors here. And they maaaaay be on a time delay fuse that’ll run out in a little under ten minutes.”

”That’s the point on nicknames, Gear Girl, they aren’t original. So the very fact you’re complaining nets me an A for achievement. But, I digress, the grand dress wearing Cog boys tend to be more concerned with tech than assets, to continue your train of thought.” Stukov let her continue on not being comfortable with killing and talked about her current situation with not being able to sneak him out too. Well, that was fair, he wasn’t ever very good at being sneaky. It wasn’t necessary for his former, or apparently current, line of work. When she mentioned meltas the former Armsman sighed, glancing at the building. Knowing ordinance, the things should have probably gone off by now, considering the artillery probably destabilized them a fair deal. The time limit didn’t help either, so he cracked his knuckles and shrugged.

”Blast radius of that many charges will probably make just walking off rather unpleasant, with that guard situation. Lot of tanks too, considering you happened to mention hundreds. Well, I’m in increasingly worse for wear shape, considering the fact my side is currently torn to ribbons by shrapnel and other unpleasantness, so a frontal assault might be unwise. Luckily, that won’t be necessary if this terrible plan works. I have some new tricks to try, they worked small scale, but I figure they might work now. Buy us time to steal some transport and make a comfortable distance between here and a safehouse. You’ll know when to move, we won’t have long for the guards to start screaming for help. Ready?”

Stukov didn’t wait for a response, considering they had less than ten minutes to be gone, and his eyes flared blue again, raising his left arm and, while he winced at the pain in his side and the fresh blood leaking from his left side, he reached out and dropped the temperature of the nearest group of guards, and froze the weapons on the vehicle. It was no Taurox, but it was a Tauros, which was a far lighter, faster vehicle. Its twin heavy bolters also were now locked up, and Stukov bolted forward faster than organic eyes could track, slamming into the shivering and freezing guards around the patrol vehicle, scattering them and wrenched the driver and gunner out of the vehicle, and yelled back at the Gear Girl. ”You know how to drive one of these? Once the thing thaws, that is...Shit…”

Lilith pouted, “Originality is good, oh cliche one. You might do to appreciate it, since otherwise you’ll probably get killed horribly by an Ork or eaten by a Tyranid, being a Guardsman after all.” She winked playfully at him, sticking her tongue out, “And yes, the people back home tend to be a rather prudish lot. They like to kick me off of Mars as much as possible. Say that I have too much weakness of flesh, yadda yadda yadda. Secretly I think they actually just want to touch the boob, but do not want to admit to wanting to touch the boob.” She shrugged, “If you ask me we could do with a little more Slaanesh here and there. Just the fun stuff mind you, threesomes, maybe a bit of bondage, not any extreme body modification.” She paused, glancing at her own heavy cybernetic augmentation, “With obvious exceptions of course.”

“The way I placed them will essentially turn this building to a fine powder. Targeting key structural points and so on, once we’re a good distance away we have nothing to fear from the explosives themselves, or even the collapsing building.” Smirking, she flashed her claws at him, “I’m excellent at deconstructing things.”

She shrugged as he outlined his “plan”, letting the man rush the Tauros and waiting for his signal. If he got himself killed, oh well, damn shame, at least she could sneak out.

Apparently however, Stukov was skilled at not getting killed. Surprising, for a guardsman.

Sprinting from her position, Lilith lept from an inhuman distance into the vehicle. She cackled, jamming a finger into the control panel once the machine had thawed. The Tauros roared to life as she yelled over it, “Well, strictly speaking no, but I can disassemble the engine and reassemble it in my sleep, does that count?” Without waiting for an answer she floored the accelerator, barreling out of the building with plenty of time to spare. Once they were a small distance away she yanked the remaining melta bombs off her belt, setting them for proximity detonation with a one hour failsafe and hurling them behind the Tauros - just in case some Guards had the bright idea of following them.

Stukov hauled himself into the turret of the Tauros, wondering at his newfound companion. Well, between Sis and her zealous nature and Smiles complete lack of concern with moderating her powers at all, meeting a borderline outcast Techpriestess who was willing to joke, he hoped, about the whole Slaanesh thing was not nearly as unusual as it would have been a few weeks ago. He really didn’t need a brazen tech heretic in his life alongside all the other drama currently going on. [color=9e0b0f][b]”Obvious exceptions indeed, I wouldn’t be getting around without my left foot and voicebox bionics. I would suggest saving the orgy for later, when we aren’t running from a bunch of well armed guards that, if not for frozen weapons, would be rather angry and shooting at us. They are just rather angry right now.. And knowing the vehicle puts you ahead of me, I can work the heavy bolters if need be.”[b][/color]

The abrupt jerk forward in acceleration made him wince, his side hitting the turret ring as they shot off. That was unfortunate, at best, and at worst even more damaging. Not like this was the first time getting hurt on the job, and it probably wouldn’t be the last. Good news was there didn’t seem to be too much following them, and the glimpse of armor he saw trying to chase them were rather neatly cleaned up by the meltas that Gear Girl lobbed behind them. Good thing that wasn’t some civilian vehicle, Stukov thought as he leaned against the turret ring as a wave of pure exhaustion washed over him, or that would have been unfortunate. ”Take the next turn and I’ll talk you through the rest of the way to the safehouse. Isn’t too far off from here, especially at this damn speed.”

Assuming the Tech Priestess obliged in listening to his instruction it would not be long for them to pull into the yard where the Taurox and Valkyrie gunship were already at, and he hauled himself out of the turret and landed with a grunt, barely catching himself from falling over, noting the others beat him there already it seemed. ”Home away from home, as they say. Reckon the building getting vaporized is going to make for some interesting paperwork, eh Gear Girl?” Stukov chuckled and winced, the motion agitating his side and he stood up straight, hand on his side as he composed himself, no sense being all haggered and hurt looking when he walked in to report. ”Boss has himself a rather unorthodox band to begin with, feel like sticking around? Having someone tech savvy would be mighty appreciated, considering the rate I’m going, I’ll be more steel than flesh before the solar year is out...”

“Funny you should mention that!” Lilith called back to her passenger, “I managed to temporarily talk down a Euphorian by mentioning an orgy instead of killing each other! Granted, Aviza threatened to rip my tongue out and then murder me, which would make for a decidedly less pleasant orgy. Then again, nobody ever said nuns were a jovial bunch comfortable with their own sexualities, at least to my knowledge.”

Swerving violently to avoid a tree, she muttered curses from dozens of languages under her breath as her ears picked out the nearly silent noise of melta weapons going off. Suppressing a snicker, she yelled back to Stukov again after ‘taking the next turn’. “Right, so I took the next turn, and we’re doing about a hundred fifty kliks, before we run into something considerably less military grade or even worse, considerably more, you mind pointing out where exactly I’m supposed to be stopping this little armored speed demon?!” After a moment she added, “And I might join, few things might depend, and I have some things I’d need to hide from prudish eyes.”

”Considering what I’ve seen thus far, hiding from prudish eyes might take a lot of work. Well, I’ll go get Boss up to speed, if you plan on sticking around, I figure we’ll know when you walk in. Or make some dynamic entry of some sort.” Stukov hauled himself upright and moved over to the Taurox first, looking in the back of the heavy duty APC and seeing that Boss had found himself a lady friend who was looking rather worse for wear. ”Evening Boss, I hate to say it, but I told you that things did not feel right back there. Looks like she needs a medic, got one waiting in the safehouse? And I found a tech priestess who was kind enough to help me get back, so if she sticks around, I would recommend not agitating her enough to send her packing. Would be helpful to have around. I also nicked some important looking documents from our target’s office, so that might help us out too. Now I need to go stitch myself back together, again, if you don’t need me at all…”

Stukov would excuse himself, since his medical talent was pretty much boiling down to what he could use to, sometimes literally, tape himself back together and dull the pain enough to work. Looking at the assembled vehicles, he rolled his eyes. This group was anything but subtle, the former Armsman decided, watching the flare of the exploding melta charges in the distance that signalled the building’s complete and total vaporization. He would loot the vehicles for medical supplies once they were vacated, until then, he sat down outside the safehouse with a grunt, relaxing against the wall and going about treating his injuries the best he could with his current supplies, which were not very much at all.

“I have lots of experience hiding from prudish eyes!” Lilith objected, even as Stukov left the vehicle. She sighed, fumbling with the controls before figuring out how to park the thing - making extra sure to avoid accidentally flooring the accelerator instead of hitting the parking brake. That might’ve had some less than desirable outcomes - such as multiple vehicular manslaughter or felony destruction of property. Thankfully she found the correct pedal and nimbly hopped out of the Tauros, hanging back for a few moments as she apprehensively surveyed the safehouse before walking up to the man Stukov had addressed as “Boss”.

“I take it you’re the Inquisitor leading this mission nobody bothered to tell me about?” She asked, quirking an eyebrow at the man.

Zhevon cranked the rear hatch open slowly and swung it open, sitting on one of the backseats and resting his head on the hull of the Taurox. It was about a minute until he heard another engine arrive and slow down into a park. He heard a familiar voice, Armsman Stukov had arrived. Zhevon in response opened his eyes and looked over to the man, clearly winded. He shrugged at Stukov's comment about things not feeling right. He then continued his report after asking if there was a medic in the safehouse, none of his own medics were present, but he could get one there in short notice. He wasn't sure if he should ask the Adepta Sororitas for more medical support, especially with Cath. Stukov explained that a Techpriestess had aided in his escape, she was perhaps the one that planted those meltabombs that allowed Zhevon himself to escape the basement, in which case he would have to thank her. He nodded to the Armsmans advise, a Techpriestess would definitely be of use in any party, especially theirs. He then noted that Stukov had grabbed several documents from the office. They would go over them later, in the safety of the safehouse.

As Stukov went to search the Taurox for medical supplies, Zhevon grabbed the emergency medical box that he had just used, "We'll rest ten minutes, if nobody comes down to help me carry my new friend upstairs, you and I will have to do it." He said, "Good to see that you made it out Stukov." He finally said, as he handed the medical box to the Armsman. He then got out of the Taurox and looked up at the building they were parked under. It was The Jewel Ville, he hoped that Inquisitor Cattleya didn't mind them using the place more than once. It made sense, the lavish safehouse was certainly more pleasing and relaxing than Safehouse-Fox, which was significantly more spartan.

“I take it you’re the Inquisitor leading this mission nobody bothered to tell me about?” A voice spoke up from behind him, he turned around to face the voice, sitting down on the rear bumper of the APC. This must be the Techpriestess that Stukov spoke about.
"Uh... Yes." Zhevon replied fairly unsure, "I hear you helped my Armsman get out, you have my thanks. And if you planted those meltabombs, you have my thanks again. I... 'borrowed' one for my own escape." He glanced back to Cath, the painkillers should have worked their magic the instant they were injected, but he had to make sure she was more comfortable than she was before.

[Collaboration post between @Rithy and myself!]

Reclining in one of the dining room chairs that she had dragged over to the Livingroom fireplace, Solares sat quietly and peacefully, listening to the wood pop and crackle as the fire slowly ate away at it. The mansion's interior was filled with a loving warmth and calming atmospheric jazz filled its empty space the single Sister of Battle medic.

On her left, upon the top of a charcoal colored coffee table sat her cup of tea and upon her lap was a large cloth bound book, it's cover heavily decorated in golden patterns. The serene feeling and ambiance was quickly destroyed as as the retinues original Psycher came flying through a glass window along side the front door. The window had been a stained glass decoration of exceptional beauty, now it was nothing more than a pile of glass and metal upon the floor.

Closing her eyes and letting out a sigh, Solares closed the book upon her lap, palced it down upon the coffee table next to her and walked over to Adrainne, looking down upon her from calm, azure eyes. "I am not going to ask why you thought it would be a good idea to break through a glass window instead of using the front door like a normal person, I am sure you have a good reason. However, along side this fact, I do hope you have a way to reconstruct the window before the owner of this mansion returns. This is your mess to clean up and I will have nothing to do with it."

In truth, Aviza had reached the door around ten or so seconds before Adrainne was even out of the armored vehicle and was walking into the house when the glass window has exploded. The Celestian froze for a moment, looking at Adrainne with an emotionless face.

"Was that really necessary Adrianne?" asked Aviza while shutting the door behind her. Now making her way to the staris, Aviza stopped and the first couple steps and turned around to face the Psycher. "I rather avoid doing such a thing but I am going to need your assistance with tending to the injury I sustained from the Euphorian."

There was a short pause before the SIster of Battlespoke once more, "Do us a favor and go change into something that doesnt expose so much, make yourself presentable." Opening her mouth to add a comment about the other wounded outside to Solares, the Sister of Battle medic quickly headed outside, medical eqipment in one hand, the other in a tightend fist.

-

The initial, smug look on Adrianne's face would quickly turn into that of a big frown as she was approached by Solares who scolded her entrance.

Her entrance, which had in fact, been, EPIC!

"No apprecation for style, huh? Is that how it's gonna be?!"

Adrianne thought as she gave Solares a rather sour look, before glancing towards the painted glass panel which lay in pieces. On a second look, the glass looked a lot thicker than before she had hit it, yet it hadn't hurt that much, something that was an odd realization for Adrianne...

...

"DON'T worry about the glass!" Adrianne finally spoke as she turned back to Solares.

"I know it was expensive, but I brought back an even more expensive truck that I confiscated from the heretics! Suuuuuure, my entrance might be some lost cash, but overral, my financial foresight and ingenuity did net us a higher profit than what my entrance-whichwasinfactAWESOME- cost us!"

Adrianne spoke as she pointed at herself, looking rather proud with herself when Aviza came in and began commenting on her outfit.

Again, the pride and enthusiasm that had gathered on Adrianne's face would evaporate as she cast Aviza a dour look.

Taking a moment to wait for the medic to leave the main room, Adrianne finally spoke, now staring directly at Aviza.

"Shoo with that comment! If you want to say that you envy my dress that much, you don't need to be so indirect about it!" Adrianne said as she made a shooing gesture at the air between her and Aviza, as if the psyker attempted to magically blow the Sister of Battle's words away from the conversation.

*

"You are going to fix that window if you like it or not Adrainne, I do not care if you have to sit there and piece it back together over many years." Aviza followed her command with a sigh, "Did you not hear me say that I require you assistance on tending to an injury? I could do it myself but I would like to have a word or two with you in private. All you have to do is hand me things when I ask for them."

Back outside, Solares had a palm over her face while she stood near the armored truck that had been parked clearly by a mad woman. "Another adition to our ranks?" thought Solares to herself before she quickly picked up pace once more and walked over to the truck. "Goodevning Inquisitor, I can tend to the new addition of retinue where she is if the rest of you have the strength to make it inside."

"Orders say that I must tend to the severely wounded first, as I am sure the rest of you know. "Now go rest until I am finshed, be gone from my sight." Turning to who appeared to be a house maid, Solares quickly administered a powerful numbing agent to the woman then began her delicate work, swiftly tending to the numerous injuries.

-

"Fix the window?" Adrianne said as she glanced between the shattered remnants of the window, and back at Aviza with an utterly weird look on her face.
"What do you think I am? A foundry? I can't just wave my hand and make things happen! That's not how my powers work!"

...

" ... well, they do work, kind'a like that... but I can't just magically conjure brand new glass into existence! That's not really part of any psyker discipline, and I guarantee you, not even in any of the Forbidden Scrolls either!"

It took a while for Adrianne to register it, the psyker being quite caught up in her little rant at the Sister of Battle, but she eventually realized that she was aking for medical assistance. This caused Adrianne to raise an eyebrow, before feeling a part of her mind wanting her to look down at her dress just to make sure she hadn't accidentally stumbled into some kind of medical symbol that had gotten itself stuck on her dress. Because how else in the warp could anyone else mistake or even ask her for medcal assistance?

"Well... medical, I coouuuld help... ?" Adrianne replied hesitantly, not sure if she really wanted to say no outright.

Maybe she could not fix the glass panel, but at least, fixing people, that was somewhat easier than conjuring glass out of nowhere. She had seen enough medics patch wounds to know the general gist of it.

The rules usually were:
1. Drown the wound in alcohol and antiseptics.
2. Pull out any fragments and stitch together bleeding veins or cuts.
3. Apply hot fire to wound, just to be safe.
4. Mummify the target limb to avoid infection.

Thinking over the rules for a moment, Adrianne would nod her head as she looked back at Aviza.

"Hmmm, I can do it!" Adrianne would eventually smile as she looked back towards Aviza with a much more confident look.

*

Aviza blinke slowly a couple of times, this may have been a bad idea. "As I said, it is simple, all you do is hand me stuff and I will do the rest. There is nothing to worry about unless I hit something important and start shooting blood at you." There was a pause as Aviza noticed the rest of the retinue heading up to the house from the armored truck, all of them looked worn out and tired.

"I am teaseing you Adrainne, follow me and let us take care of this quickly." Turning to face the stairs once more, the Sister of Battle quickly made her way up the stairs and into her own room, opening the door and walking over to a firm metal chair, Aviza sat down upon it and handed Adrainne a medical kit.

"You do know the names of all the devices inside of this box, correct?" Aviza waved the though off before slipping out of her light body armor, leaving her in her nightware.

The injury upon the left side of her abdomen was quite a bit worse than she had thought. "Damn those blades, they cut through armor as if it wasnt even there."

As if she could not feel pain, Aviza quickly sanitized the area then glanced over at Adrainne. "Open the box, the first row should have everything I need for stiches." With a snap of her fingers, she motioned for the Psycher to hurry.

-

"Damn those blades, they cut through armor as if it wasnt even there."

"Most likely a warp forged blade by the looks of it, daemonblade. Like a power sword in some respects, just switch out power and technology with vile sorcery and might. In fact, some of them even make our best powerblades look like sticks by comparison."

Adrianne would comment with a very analytical look on her face as she leaned in to study the wound at Aviza's side.

The wound itself looked like a perfectly clean cut. It was definitely a Slaaneshi daemonblade, as they were usually known for their razor sharp but also precise marks. The followers of Khorne preferred crude axes that might as well just rip chunks of their victim with it, whilst the followers of Nurgle often clobbered their victims to death with cudgels, or left deadly diseases in the wound.

It was for from a blessing however, as the clean cut had left quite an open wound as Aviza's side was at this point covered with blood. How much she had lost at this point, Adrianne could only guess.

"I think it hit a lot of veins... we need to close it fast." Adrianne commented, at first she had sounded a bit calm and merely curious, but a sense of urgency began to fill her voice at the end of that last sentence.

Reaching into the toolbox, the psyker would rifle through the various items. Finding what seemed like a needle and a thread.

"Just apply some pressure! As long as you don't lose consciousness, we should be fine!" Adrianne said as she tried to lead the thread through the microscopic hole of the needle, but with little success, and spent the greater part of the first twelve seconds repeatedly missing the needle's hole with the thread.

"This... isn't working!"

"Alright, I don't think plan A is going to work... let's switch to plan B." Adrianne muttered, before she turned to look over at Aviza as she dropped the needle and thread.

Walking over to the sister of battle sitting in the chair, Adrianne moved her right hand down to her wound to press her palm against the opening. Looking at Aviza for a moment, she would mutter a word of warning.

"This might sting a little... 1, 2... "

However, before she had counted to three, Adrianne would trigger her power. Aviza would feel a surge of electricity suddenly jolt through her body like a searing, lightning and spasming pain!

But it was all over in less than 2 seconds. 2 very intense seconds.

"There, all done!" Adrianne replied as she backed away and looked at Aviza. At her side, the wound seemed to have been closed and was no longer leaking profusely anymore. However, by 'closed', it seemed to have been more seared shut. Weird, dark blue colored tendrils stretched themselves out from the area of the closed wound and across the greater part of Aviza's lower side like protruding veins that formed an intricate, lightning like pattern across her skin.

"You even got a really cool tattoo as well!" Adrianne would add with a comforting smile, though in secret took a subtle step back towards the door.

*

"If you think you are going to stitch the injury closed, I may just have to ask you to leave. No, no put that needle down, that is not how this works. You have to have a steady hand and yep you hit something important. Good job, you have my blood on your hands, more ways than one." Everything happened very quickly, she had not expected the Psycher to try and stitch the wound, Aviza wanted to do that herself.

Glancing down at Adrainne when she said there was a plan B, Aviza knew exactly what was about to happen. "You have to be kidding me, fine then, let us get this over with and remind me to never ask you to help me tend with injuries, no offense of course." The Sister of Battle had managed to stay extremely still while all of this was going on, though when the bolt of electricity jumped through her body and sealed the wound, Aviza almost fell over on top of the Psycher, quickly catching herself and bending part of the metal chair with her left hand from the intense pain she was still suffering from.

The comment about that tattoo was true, she had a rather large Lichtenberg figure upon her body now. Once Adrainne had finished, Aviza sat their silent and still before reaching for the com on the table next to her. "Solares, I need your help before anything worse happens, I am currently in my room." There was the sound of someone running into the mansion, up the stairs and then the door to Aviza's room flew open.

Solares let out yet another sigh, grabbed onto Adrainne, and gently removed her from the room before she shut the door behind her. "She did WHAT?" could be heard coming from inside of the room. "Yes I know, I made the offer because you were busy, can you tend to the injury and reverse any damage?" There was a pause, "Of course I can fix it and the scar, give me a moment and try to relax." silence quickly followed.

After all those painkillers were injected into her, Cath’s condition seemed to improve a lot on the outside. The inside was still a mess, but at least she was no longer feeling pain by the mere act of breathing… Not to mention all those cracked and broken bones that the insane driving of that psyker caused to fracture even more! She hoped she gets the chance to beat the hell out of Adrianne… She now knew the psyker’s base abilities and fighting style… yeah… She was going to repay her in kind… eventually…

What she did hear made her eye twitched though… that man was the inquisitor… who send her on this insane mission!? Catherine’s mind went black for a few good moments there, making the connections in her head, going through every piece of information she got so far… that was not really successful as the painkillers made everything feel… wibbly wobbly…

She knew one thing though… she was angry. She managed to somehow move through all the broken bones and injuries just enough to reach over and grab the edge of Zhevon’s sleeve…” You are the inquisitor!? Why did you send me here…” She asked, her injured arm hanging limp, as blood dripped the edge of her mouth. She had some troubles staying awake from all the painkillers and the injuries overall were showing their effect as her arm grip was weak and her vision getting blurrier.

@Skyrte@rivaan@Eisenhorn

Somewhere deep in the bowels of the mansion they called a 'safe-house', in one of multiple basement rooms beneath the structure, and probably entirely unknown to those moving about and causing such a racket in the building above, sat a still and silent figure which could for all intents and purposes been the life-like statue of a man; this man would have been in the prime of his life, in peak fitness when it came to his body, and with an unnerving attractiveness that would also repel or even confuse those that dwelt upon it too long. This sitting figure, alone and forgotten in the sparse and dripping cellar, swaddled in the crimson robes of the Adeptus Mechanicus, was too perfect to be a mere mortal - indeed, he was far beyond anything that made the meat-bags upstairs what they were.

First there came a small click, then a rather more audible hiss or released air, and finally the figure - more a creation than an actual person - twitched rather violently into a form of consciousness. This was not your usual way of seeing the world though, oh no, through eyes enhanced with the Omnissiah's gifts he (for he saw himself as a 'he' for the sake of convenience, though he really had no gender to speak of) could calculate everything from the trajectory of shots before they had been fire, to the most minute scratch upon the surface of the skin. Almost in anticipation of some activity, his mechandrites moved with a mind of their own beneath the folds of his robes, slithering this way and that, and very soon they would have work to do.

01010011 01101111 01110101 01110010 01100011 01100101 00111010 00100000 01001001 01101110 01110001 01110101 01101001 01110011 01101001 01110100 01101111 01110010 00100000 01011010 01101000 01100101 01110110 01110010 01101111 01101110 00001010 00001010 01001101 01101001 01110011 01110011 01101001 01101111 01101110 00111010 00100000 01000011 01101100 01100001 01110011 01110011 01101001 01100110 01101001 01100101 01100100 00001010 00001010 01010000 01110010 01101111 01100011 01100101 01100101 01100100 00100000 01110111 01101001 01110100 01101000 00100000 01101101 01101001 01110011 01110011 01101001 01101111 01101110 00100000 01110000 01100001 01110010 01100001 01101101 01100101 01110100 01100101 01110010 01110011 00101110

In one single moment he had recalled all that he needed to know, and as per his instructions rose from his sitting position to make his way upstairs; what he would find there he did not know, nor who he would find there, but nevertheless he went on with all the confidence that makes up an emotionless half-man in the service of the Imperium.

Moving his eyes this way and that, his webber gun clutched in one hand and his shock-maul in the other, he emerged from the subterranean hideaway just in time to hear the Taurox pull up outside and a heated conversation ensue. On the other hand he could also sense blood particles in the air, although these were already inside the mansion, leading to another floor from which further raised voices came. Making a swift and impartial decision, he proceeded toward the location of the vehicular transport.

What he found when he got there was Stukov, Inquisitor Zhevon and a much-damaged Guardswoman who by his calculations appeared to have been administered far more painkillers than she should really have been.

The most interesting one there, at least from his point of view, was actually one who seemed to be aligned to the Mechanicus as well...

"I hope that I am not interrupting," he said in the most deadpan and monotone way possible, not actually giving a damn whether he had or not but believing this was the Human way to do things, "but the wounded within this transport appears to be perspiring, perhaps I might be of some assistance in this instance?" His words were not accompanied by any of the usual hand gestures or facial expressions of an actual person, but it was clear to anyone that he was there to help regardless.

Obviously he had not taken into account that no-one knew who he was, were likely in the dark as to how he even got there, and very probably had questions for him which, with Cath's condition, should be left for later.

The wound was closed, the infections burned away and any residual power from the cursed sword that had struck Aviza had been annihilated.

Yet, even though Adrianne herself was very happy with her own handiwork, especially since she was not even specialized in Biomancy in the first place, she found herself quickly being guided outside of the room in a rather abrupt manner by one of the Sisters of Battle who suddenly showed up and became a miss-know-it-all, taking control of everything!

By the time Adrianne had been shoved outside the door; she had not even heard a "Thank you", or "good job!"; at least not before the door was then slammed shut behind her!

Hearing the muffled voices emanating from inside of the room on the other side of the door, Adrianne would receive an annoyed look on her face as she leaned in towards the door to shout over onto the other side!

"YOU'RE WELCOME! ... I'M GLAD I COULD HELP!"

" ... "

"I'M GOING NOW... LIKE I SAID, CLOSED WOUND. HELPED, RIGHT? ... I'M GOING!"

Adrianne shouted as she began walking away from the door and towards the stairs in the safe house in order to head back towards her room, before letting out a rather offended "hmpfh" sound as she journeyed up the stairs. She had plenty to do anyway.

"I just hope that stupid Solares doesn't attempt to apply water to the scar. That would be bad!"

After having turned what had originally been a stealth mission into an all-out gunfight that had turned their area of interest from a pristine, quiet mansion and into a burning hole in the ground, and failed to retrieve as much as a single enemy VIP from the operation as well, Adrianne had a feeling that there was bound to be some commotion from the heretics on the planet. Someone had to start scrying, and she was the best qualified to do so anyway!

... and the only qualified, now that she thought of it.

Walking in through the door to her private quarters, she would attempt to slam them shut behind her. However, she quickly realized that they were indeed hydraulic sliding doors, which complicated the attempt somehow, and so she turned to simply clicking the door button as the door shut with a hydraulic hiss, giving a glimpse of an annoyed expression in the psyker's face before shutting.

At least she would be able to change in peace. Not like her clothes had the base level of sentience required to be annoying.

Stukov had pretty much finished stapling himself back together, searing the wound shut with some heat tool the emergency medical kit had beforehand to aid the staples in holding his side together, and packed the now lighter medical kit back up. There was a lot going on, far as the former Armsman could fathom, watching another cog boy come rolling up as, unknown to Stukov, the treatment and continued arguing between Sis and Smiles went on just like normal. Far as he could tell, Cog Girl was getting answers, the wounded woman in the armored vehicle, a Taurox or something like that, Stukov was barely familiar with Guard vehicles to begin with since he usually worked on Naval vessels, not Guard gear. He saw some of the stuff doing his rounds before the Inquisition picked him up, but that hardly meant he was knowledgable about any of it in the slightest. Hell, he didn't even know how to drive a vehicle let alone a combat one. It was never something that might be a concern and come up, after all, Armsman were not ground troops. They operated in the confined close quarters of a pitched boarding action. Being able to drive a tank, not terribly useful in the skill list for the Armsman.

But Stukov digressed, mentally, as the situation kept developing independently of his train of thought. Said newcomer cog boy, not Gear Girl to keep things straight in his head, commented on the injured woman that Boss was treating and he grunted as he forced himself onto his feet. Whether the man was here to help, or not, was irrelevant. Right now? They needed to stitch that woman up to a degree she wouldn't go and die at. Which meant they needed actual trained medical personelle, not his ever so caviler medical solutions or more painkillers, even if the latter of the two made it far easier for the injured in question to not lay around groaning in pain if they were so drugged up they could taste color. Stukov was on his feet as he made his way over to the newcomer Cog Boy and where the injured was, going on about Boss having sent her on some sort of damned mission or another. Well, he really couldn't comment on that, so combat training kicked in. Treating field injured personnel took decisive action, and the owman was probably in all sorts of shock from blood loss right now, painkillers dulling her senses and reactions further aside.

"Alright, questions as to who you are later Cogboy, stabilizing is first priority. Boss, probably not a good idea to move her until she is stable and the extent of her injuries is at least reasonably known. Alright Scarlet, yes that is your nickname now, questions later. Right now, need you to stay still and not agitate any injuries further with unnecessary movement. The amount of drugs in your system right now probably dulls how you can feel the extent of the damage, and any agitation movement might cause. Cogboy, you actually trained in medicae work or just know a thing or two about us meatbags?" Stukov was, in the meantime as he talked since he was no medicae and just had basic workings of the medicae field well enough to stitch people together and stabilize them for proper medics to complain about later, building a stretcher arrangement for when it was safe to move the guardswoman he had nicknamed Scarlet, all because of the blood color. Clever him, right? But he was trying to focus everyone present on the task at hand. Preventing casualties from occurring further.

Lilith quirked an eyebrow. “Of course I put those melta bombs there! I was assigned to demolish that building and the cult inside - nobody thought to tell me of the Inquisition being here! I just sort of happened along Aviza, killed a bunch of guards, et-cetera. Would’ve been much more convenient if I knew there was artillery support available, I wouldn’t have had to sneak around that mansion for days and carry around all those explosives.”

She followed his gaze as he glanced at Cath. “Is she…? She looks rather eh…” Lilith trailed off, letting the woman’s condition speak for itself.

She turned back to the Inquisitor, “While I’m here, is there anything you need? You seem… rather reason compared to ah, your compatriots, shall we say?”

Ansiel Hated flying when there wasn't battle waiting for her once she got off. In fact he hated flying all together. But this flight was different from the rest, it was more Boring than the rest. She was all alone on this trip. There was no one to talk to, no one to discuss weapons with,... No one to flirt with. She had found that for the past hour she had just Ben fondling with her armor just to block out the boredom.

After a few more minutes the driver of the Valkyrie she was on turned on the intercom and said "well be landing shortly have your belongings ready. over" and signed off.

Ansiel rose with her duffle bag in hand and her sword carefully wrapped in straps that was slung over her shoulder opened the hatche as they began descending to the ground. "So this is my new station huh, I'd better get used to it" she said to herself taking in the view? "Thanks for the lift" she said over the intercom to the driver as she lept from the Valkyrie as it hovered a few feet off the ground and landed with a thump as she became familiar with her surroundings and began walking to her new HQ.

Walking outside of the door to her room would be Adrianne, the snow-white haired Psyker now fully dressed in her usual battle gear consisting of a deep brown skin tight jumpsuit overlayed with a set of sectional plates in the form of a chestguard, long gauntlets and knee high boots fashioned in the usual imperial, gothic style. In her hand she carried her slightly bent psyker staff, and perched on her shoulder would be that of a psyber raven, a black feathered cybernetically enhanced raven constantly watching her surroundings through its one red, bionic eye that seemed to be constantly adjusting itself.

"It's probably time to regroup with the rest of the team."

Adrianne thought to herself. However, thoughts of the recent failed arrest attempt at the mansion also ran through her mind. Memories of how she had driven the Inquisitor through an imperial guard blockade at great risk, how she had severely beaten and then left one of their undercover operatives, and recently pissed off Sister Aviza by giving her a new cool tattoo.

Tallying her favors and ills, she was definitely leaning more towards the latter.

"I can leave the scrying for later. Right now I probably ought to generate some goodwill!"

Walking down into the main living room of the apartment, Adrianne would come to find that none of the other members of the team were currently present. Perfect. That gave her time to prepare before they arrived! Picking up speed, she would quickly head over towards the kitchen area, her psyber raven jumping off her shoulder to perch itself ever vigilantly on top of a frock holder. Reaching the kitchen area, she would flick her wrist as the shelves opened themselves up. Using her power of telekinesis, the psyker would quickly begin to prepare a meal, moving large amounts of pots, pans, knives, ingredients with her will alone.

However, she had not gotten more than halfway through the preparation when she suddenly noticed a valkyrie touching down on the pad outside of the apartment. Gazing up to look out through the glass window with her violet eyes, the psyker could see another woman approaching the doors to the apartment. A sister of battle no less.

"Another one?!" Adrianne would mutter to herself as she watched Ansiel approach the apartment, the psyker currently surrounded by at least 12 different knives floating in the air around her, as well as one tomato.

@Monochromatic Rainbow@Eisenhorn@rivaan@Skyrte

In the time it had taken the synapses within Stukov's mind to even send the electrical impulse from his brain, to his lips and limbs, and caused the words to tumble forth, Lartius had already made a complete and comprehensive sweep of the entire garage and the group of individuals present within. From behind his goggles he allowed his eyes to wander, never completely ignoring the bleeding female, but more than confident in his own abilities to heal her; mag-locking his maul and netter to his hips, concealed quite handily by his flowing robes of crimson, he focused first on the only one that had spoken directly to him.

Cog boy?

Cog, noun; one of the tooth-like parts around the edge of a wheel in a machine that fits between those of a similar wheel, causing both wheels to move.

Boy, noun; A male child or youth. Also: a son, irrespective of age (chiefly as referred to by members of the immediate family).

Assumed Conclusion: An attempt at rough humour by reference to present appearance, and station as a servant of the Adeptus Mechanicus. Possibly a common moniker of sorts. Stored for later analysis.

Looking the Armsman up and down, he decided that this Stukov was indeed an interesting machine, his internal cogitator gulping in vast amounts of raw knowledge and making sure that every inch of this man was recorded for possible use at a later date.

Name: Unknown

Age: Forty-four

Occupation: Unknown, analysis of speech patterns and slang terms indicate a background in the Imperial Navy, light armour and favour of the Mk Twenty-Two Cee would seem to support this.

Background: Unknown

And so it went on, taking in his entire body structure, possible blood type, ethnicity, colour of hair and eyes and in the main anything that might be useful now or in the future.

Completely ignoring his fellow inductee of the Ad-Mech, he half-walked and half seemed to glide into the garage and past the trio of still-standing combatants, coming to a stop as he loomed over the bleeding and damaged machine that they called 'Cath' like some sort of vampiric spider.

Initial prognosis shows multiple lacerations, multiple fractures – agitated by rough movement and handling – as well as significant blood-loss.

It was now that the wonders of the Mechanicus made themselves known, a medicae mechadendrite – a two-metre long limb of durable metals and plasteel for flexibility, tipped with what amounted to an advanced medical kit – emerged from beneath the robes covering his broad shoulders to hover over Cath. Meanwhile, multiple smaller Mechadendrites (those not the size of an entire limb), slithered forth, each tipped with various blades, lasers and strange liquids contained within injector tubes.

“Do not fear,” came a surprisingly soothing voice from within the triangular mask covering his mouth, “I shall take your pain away, and I shall fix you.”

Without any sort of hesitation, he slid needle of one of the injector tubes into a prominent vein – the small prick of the needle likely barely registering with the over-drugged soldier – and let the greenish liquid of the vial insert itself into her system; it would slowly ease her into a more relaxed state, one where she would feel little pain but also cause her body temperature to rise as she was forced to sweat out the inferior painkillers already within her.

Simultaneously his larger mechadendrite swung down, a luminous bulb, which was much more than a mere light, sweeping over her in a matter of seconds.

“This might hurt.”

This statement was less sincere, but altogether more serious than his last, two mechadendrites tipped with small clamps moving up to grip her arm – one at the wrist, the other nearer the shoulder – Lartius bending forward in imitation of a human sawbones, though he had no need to, and taking a look at the fractured limb; it was a clean break, or breaks, so that was good, what was not good was that she seemed to have other breaks such as a rib or three and possible damage to her spine. There was internal damage, hence the bleeding from her mouth, but he could administer further medicines that would help re-knit flesh and cease the pain once she was moved.

“Do not move.”

The largest mechadendrite - having finished closing her most grievous gashes and lacerations with a simple but effective flesh-stapler, which would at least stop the most serious bleeding – now hovered over her arm, smaller limbs flailing about as they worked to clear the areas around the fractures of material and dirt.

With precision born of meticulous training, as well as real-life application, he forced a mechadendrite deep into her skin; in it went, burrowing through the flesh to get to the areas where the bones were broken and, upon locating them, to force them together. Once together, a minuscule contraption emerged from within the centre of the mechadendrites tubing, between the tiny clamp holding the bones in place, a form of greyish liquid known only as osteoclay binding the larger bones together and setting as soon as it reacted with the heat of the body and the blood flowing through it – in short, it would act just like bone without having to wait for the bones to heal themselves, a lengthy and useless process in the opinion of the Genetor.

Having noticed that Stukov was going about making a form of crude stretcher, and judging that Cath should now be at least stable enough to move, he withdrew his mechadendrites back into the folds of his robes and gave a curt nod to the Armsman.

“My work would be more precise with a better environment; we must move her carefully to a more acceptable location.”

This meant anywhere with a suitable table, or at least surface where she could be laid down in more comfort than she currently was in.

Once Anisel got to the door she stood there for a few seconds thinking. Then when she was about to knock something shiny got her attention throughout the window. She decided not to pay any mind to it thinking it was just the sun and knocked anyway. After just one knock on the door it slid open on its own. Thinking what's the wors that could happen she walked in and looked around.

Turning a corner she found herself standing in what appeared to be a kitchen, face to face with a scycer who seemed to be holding a large amount of knives and for some reason a tomato. She looked like she was gonna try and chop her up. Seeing the scycer she dropped the duffle bag and jumped back, grabbing Agony in her hands which was still wrapped, ready to defend herself. @Rithy

Adrianne eyes were following Ansiel as the Sister of Battle walked rather nonchalantly into the apartment, before said heavily power armored Sister almost jumped into the air at the sight of her and reached for an equally overly large chainsword!

"Yeh, she is totally not compensating for anything... "

Adrianne thought to herself as she squinted at Ansiel with one eye from beneath her snow white hair, giving Ansiel a rather odd look as she tilted her head slightly to the side.

"Don't tell me the Inquisitor has placed a Kill Order on me or something." Adrianne commented as she noticed Ansiel's reaction, still not sure what to do at that point as she awkwardly stood there, armed with a dozen flying kitchen utensils and one very ripe vegetable!

"And if he has, I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation for whatever supposed reason there might be behind such a brash dictate!"

@Rithy

Seeing as how she wasn't immediately attacked she lowered her wepon a little realizing the psyker had asked her a question. "No, there isn't a hit out for you" she said looking at the situation seeing how she could think that. "The door opened on its own so I let myself in, and when I was looking around for someone I ran into you and it looked like you were going to try and flay me alive." She admitted as she lowered her sword and slung it over her shoulder again. "I'm sorry if I startled you."

"Noo-no, don't worry, you did not. I've been through enough things today to have gone relatively numb." Adrianne would smirk, before raising one of the knives she was holding and pointing it at Ansiel.
"And even if I did want to flay you, I doubt my knives would do much against that armor of yours. Maybe I could do a number on the face, but if I wanted to use my powers against you, I would totally throw the oven on you instead."

"Craa!"

A caw, almost one of agreement, could be heard through the living room that was emanating from a psyber-raven sitting on one of the couches behind Ansiel, its claws digging deep into the leather of the furniture and its red cybernetic eye gazing at the Sister of Battle.

"Even Midnight agrees." Adrianne would add with a soft chuckle as she motioned towards the raven, before looking back at the Sister of Battle.

"You can call me Adrianne. I'm the one and sole resident psyker of this Inquisitorial routine. And no, I'm not worried about sharing that confidential information as I have a feeling you wouldn't be here if someone important hadn't given your power armored butt a seal of approval, sis!"

" ... "

" ... what I'm trying to say is that I trust you, I mean."

Ansiel reached for her bag. "that's quite the Raven you have there" she said looking back at it, bag in hand. "Do you know where I can find your commander? I was told by the Canoness Superior Andromeda To met her immediately and discuss me joining the little group you have here. or at least I assume it's a group..." She said that last part under her breath hoping she didn't hear it. @Rithy