I might have been a highborn, but I was no fool. I knew enemy maneuvers when I saw it, even on a relatively small scale. Morek's constant mumbles were also a telltale sign. If I learned anything from the old squat (considering they could live as long as an astartes, this was quite notable), it was that he had a sixth sense I should pay attention to. And so he and I decided to make a temporary headquarters a few doors down from my main office in a requisitioned broom closet, where I kept a few communique items and a small desk. My vanity was not so great that I could not trade it for a tactical advantage, even though the smell could have been better, admittedly. I held meetings in my assigned office, of course, but otherwise busied myself in my diminutive headquarters. Redirection was a useful tool, after all. 

It was from there I was able to step out into the corridor, to find three men of Langeroth platoon skulking through the corridor past my position. A quick look over betrayed their intentions. One of them held a syringe, held behind his hand so as to be concealed in the front. Another had a small shock baton slipped up his sleeve, and the third seemed to be walking openly, but judging by the small bulge in the back of his pants, he was likely concealing a sidearm. All three items were prohibited to men of the line, except perhaps the sidearm, though that was generally marked for officers. It took me the matter of a single second before I nodded Morek to accompany me, and I saw the squat grab his ripper gun and step out with me as I casually cocked my hip and rested my hands on the hilt of my chainsword. 

"Aten-[b]SHUN[/b]!" I roared.

The men, so focused on keeping a low profile as they walked, yelped at the sudden sound behind them. Yanked out of their mission of ill-repute, they stumbled as they spun in alarm. The syringe clattered to the floor, and I spied it was filled with a strange red liquid. The baton had inadvertently slid out of the man's sleeve, hopelessly exposing itself before he could recover it. I felt as if the three of them had either come for me, or multiple members of my platoon. Their faces were white, their bodies frozen once their implements were revealed. Morek hefted his weapon, not aiming at them particularly, but ready nonetheless. 

"L-Lord Kayden, sir." The one that held the baton said, having slipped it back into his coat.

"Interesting choice of recreational items, men. Anything you wish to tell me?"

"No suh," the 'unarmed' one replied, keeping his hands to his sides. If there was the three of them surrounding me, he might have went for his gun, but with Morek and his ripper gun in his hands, he was not that suicidal. Their body language screamed wild indecision. One might break while the others begged or merely stood there, and the possibility of them attacking was not completely gone. I hid my thoughts and tension well, however. 

"That's too bad, because I'm quite curious on a number of things. I know you're not planning on using any of those weapons on this ship. We're all Emperor fearing men here, aren't we? You seem to be lost, if nothing else." I remarked casually, looking past my nose at them. I caught the faintest flicker of the eyes of the man that held the syringe going to the fallen instrument. I knew what he was considering before he could move. My fingers tightened on the hilt of my chainsword.

"Trooper, if you even entertain the notion of breaking that syringe, my aide will blow a hole in you wide enough to stick an Ogryn's arm through." I warned, so deathly calm, they knew I was serious. He stepped back, wisely. My eyes whipped to the other two. "You will drop your weapons on the floor. All of them. The pistol too. If you comply, you might just get off with a contraband charge and a dereliction of duties."

"With all due respect sir," the baton wielder said, though I noticed he did as I said and placed his weapon on the ground in front of him. "you can't reprima-" 

"I can and I will!" I snapped, eyes baleful. "Oh, at the end of the day you answer to your own CO, but I have leave to kill you where you stand. I don't believe incarceration is out of the question. Now do as I say!" 

Lastly, the seemingly unarmed corporal, if his uniform was any indication, withdrew his sidearm (which was a bolt pistol, to my surprise) slowly and placed it on the floor. I noticed one was shaking, but the others just looked guilty as if I had already sentenced them to the firing squad. I made a 'tsk' and motioned for Morek, who stepped forward, his ripper gun trained on them. The squat was chewing something, as usual. I also noticed he needed a bath quite badly. I made a mental note to put that on the schedule for tomorrow. 

"Face the wall." Morek ordered them. "On yer knees. Hands behind yer back." 

It was while the men were being cuffed that, of all people, corporal Seldon came upon us. I had the syringe in my hand, appraising the instrument curiously, before noticing her standing there. I raised an eyebrow. "Ah, corporal. I was just about to send for you. I feel as if we should check on your squad while Morek runs these men to the brig. I hope you aren't too busy, are you?"