Volpex leaned back into the chair, his black arms crossed over his chest and head tilted down slightly, a passing thought turning into a chaotic storm of questions and ideas. His mind was flooded with the build up of so many years of hushed, and not so hushed, insults throw at him because of his choice of worship. Had he merely joined the wrong warband? That would be the simplest answer, and most favourable, but fate never was quite so easy. Then what was the problem? He knew better than anyone how little he knew about the Dark Gods and their followers, so was it really just a matter of ignorance? A long breath turned into a anger fuelled growl, rage beginning to boil within him as his own lack of knowledge and understanding. He lifted his gaze, black eyes glaring at those around him with contempt hidden behind an emotionless helmet: A Raven Guard who thought he was crazed, an Assassin who couldn't care less and a fellow worshipper of Slaanesh who despised him. With his bunch as his back-up, he'd personally take the damned Rattling, at least that thing was scared of him...
The voice of the Assassin then awoke him from his inner thoughts, her words directed into the vox as they neared the all encompassing Space Hulk before them. A few dim lights here, a smoking section there, a barely held together mass of twisted metal and broken ships.... Yep, definitely a Space Hulk. The vox growled into life soon after the Assassin's words, what sounded like a bang echoing through before a voice, not unlike Ganesh's, came through. A few disjointed words poured through, sounding rather desperate which wasn't really surprising when you considered the state of the place they called, ''home''. Another sharp bang cut off the voice, that was starting to get annoying, and a silence followed. Volpex took this pause to voice himself, present his views on things.
''It would appear our 'Lord's' intel was incorrect about this place, seems the rouges have been reduced to the deprived and insane.''
A short time later, probably filled with more of Sekel's suggestions to destroy parts of the mass in front of them, the vox roared into life once more. This time it projected a voice far better than the last, clear and strong, probably the leader of whatever fraction of intelligent life remained aboard this thing. 'Lord Kraskol' eh? Even in the darkest reaches of space these people still clung to their worthless titles, Volpex would enjoy removing this blight from the face of the galaxy. Although his words were odd, he seemed to believe the Assassin's little lie almost too easily, telling them it was an 'unwise decision to send more troops' and they should have sent a more diplomatic group. A harsh laugh escaped Volpex's mouth at the one, probably sharing the moment with Sekel, the idiot had no idea what they really were, nor what they were capable of...
An instruction or two later, an empty threat echoing through the vox in the place of final words, and they were entering the Space Hulk's hanger. Or rather, the shambled mess of cargo claws and scrap metal. The landing was smooth, unsurprisingly, and the craft's landing struts touched the cold metal below, the engines powering down with a hum. With a small motion, Volpex was out of his seat and stood at the exit to the bridge, his arms crossed over his chest and gaze cast to those within.
''We find ourselves at a crossroads, surprise is at our back and the beings out there believe we are but a simple force. So how do we act? I'm sure one or more of you would agree with my idea of merely hunting down whatever excuse for a leader they have, this 'Lord Kraskol' being the best guess, and torturing the location of our quarry out of him.''
He took a pause, a roll of eyes or smack of lips filling the room at the prospect of torture.
''But, undue fighting could attract more... Potent, creatures to us. Namely, that Gene-Steeler cult. And if we do battle against them and the rouges, no doubt the Orks will sniff out the large conflict.''
He ended with a hiss, the prospect of fighting all three of the groups aboard this place at the same time both exciting him and annoying him. He preferred a cleaner way of battle, systematically destroying one threat at a time until nothing but the object remains. Simply fighting everything in one massive brawl, while effect at leaving no survivors, was just necessarily messy....
''Blood for the Blood God! Skulls for the Sk- Oh shut up already! I'm a blasted Noise Marine and you've managed to give me a headache!''
- Random Noise Marine in the midst of a Khorne-Berserker.