Veche had been, silent- for the most part. He respected older guardsmen, they had his respect for the fact that they survived. Survival; is, really the only thing that he really thought of that amounted to anything. While; he remained silent- listening, he seemed mildly impressed that- well, the woman was as brazen as so few he'd noticed. He kinda was being dragged before he could answer appropriately. It was fairly funny; watching a woman so much smaller than the man she was dancing with drag him by hand to someone more interesting! But- he allowed it. Even as he listened to the old man's rambling- Veche's eyes swept the room; his snarl of contempt showing as a vicious sneer before he finally caught word of 'fear', this caused him to shake his head- as he'd been staring pointedly in the direction of the organ. Suspicion ran- but not toward the woman who was there, it was at the servitor. The mild paranoia one expects to have, when working with the inquisition- well...<br/><br/>"I apologize, for not speaking.", came the measured tone, "But, yes- she is; which I enjoy immensely. As most women are afraid of what I do, where I'm from, or are intimidated by my very stature. It is both pathetic and saddening that the Imperium allows such people within the Ranks of the Guard and Inquisition.", it was a curt response. His cold expression marking his distaste for such a thing. He, however; held up his arm, some of the newer scars having barely healed along the cusp of his hand;  "Even on this world, of small men, cramped; dark, places.. I earn scars.", it was a rather odd way to express his distaste. But, he only looked bemused a moment before pausing, "... I think that wasn't a response I was supposed to give was it?" It was not very surprising really, Veche, who'd been in the service of inquisitors for well into fifteen years at this point; was a bit- unhinged. But, anyone who'd seen how well he fights with lasgun, stubber, and holy bolter- knew well that a man who could hold his own like he did was worth the money, time- and resources to keep around. And, as the inquisitor he'd served under had stated on his dossier, 'Good for pointing at an enemy', which- he was.<br/><br/>However, he offered a bright grin, "Oh yes, we tend to kill Commisarati due to cowardice- or weakness. They are often useless- as Duskites like myself need no instruction into hating the Xeno, Witch, and Heretic. We fight them enough before coming into service of the Greatest of Hunters- the God Emperor; that we feel insulted when Commissar Weak-men are telling us that we 'listen do them or die'.", he'd snort amused. "But, as it stands- I do hope the Rogue Trader bothers to show. I have been wishing to get off this planet for a good five years, and there is only so much challenge that Gangers bring...", he sounded- disappointed.<br/><br/>"And to answer your question before, Salinas, if we ever do land upon your world. I would love to impart tales of horror, heroics, and slaying of heretics-", he then winked, "-I could do that here if I am accepted of course...", was he- flirting with her!?<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>