Covud looked like a pack mule when he finally found the room D’crux had assigned to him. Two large filth encrusted bags were slung over both his shoulders (one was white the other black), along with the damnably heavy riot shield strapped across his back. It all amounted to a fairly heavy load, one that did not get lighter after 3 hours of searching for the room he’d been assigned (He’d had one of the servitor’s point it out to him on the mapslate, for all the bloody good it had done)… The warp jump certainly hadn’t helped either. Granted, he could have asked one of the numerous servitors to help him with the luggage but he didn’t want anyone else handling his belongings. They were the last links to his bright past. Besides he could use the exercise.<br/><br/>The room was just what he had been expecting… It was large, opulent, and only just barely constraining itself to the parameters of good taste. Or at least it did in Covud’s mind, he never liked rococo. The numerous pieces of furniture committed themselves to a blue-gold motif. Every single cushion or pillow looked just about ready to explode with all the stuffing. Covud quickly glanced around the room briefly; locating exactly what he deemed to be important amongst the furnishings and ignoring everything else. Glass liquor cabinet full of amansec on right hand wall, top priority. Bed just opposite entrance, secondary. Desk just left of the bed with a vox, tertiary. Door presumably leading to gym on left wall, quaternary.<br/><br/>Panting and sweating, Covud walked over to the bed, setting both bags and the shield onto the plush mattress. The black flak-coat was the last thing he discarded, leaving him in his t-shirt and jeans. Covud sighed with relief, wiping a thin sheen of sweat from his brow. He felt lighter than a feather now that he was finally free of his burdens. The sensation was lost on him though, his mind had been buzzing since he had left the bridge and even the strenuous trip to the room hadn’t managed to distract him completely.<br/><br/>D’crux… D’crux, D’crux, bloody D’crux. The old Arbitrator still didn’t really know what to make of her. She had seemed charming, well educated, and capable… More than a little eccentric but what Rogue Trader wasn’t? What was it that had aroused his suspicion? Covud’s brow furrowed with thought as he walked over to the liquor cabinet, hands running through his Hazel hair trying to find the knot that kept his eye patch in place. Damn thing was always so uncomfortable, a constant pressure around his forehead, stopping him from thinking straight.<br/><br/><span style="color: red">’Come on… What was it? What was suspicious Covud? You saw it… otherwise you wouldn’t be suspicious, just think about it,’</span>He thought, still fidgeting with the patch as he stood in front of the cabinet. When the patch finally was tossed aside, it revealed an empty socket, devoid of anything other than scar tissue. It marred the otherwise youthful and strong contours of his face, a blunt reminder of the trails he had been through as an Arbitrator. He opened up the liquor cabinet, not bothering with a glass he simply took a whole bottle of amansec… As well as a large glass box full of fragrant lho sticks. Bottle clasped in his right, with the box precariously balanced on his left forearm.<br/><br/>Still desperately pondering the mystery he headed over to the sole desk in the room, biting off the cork to the bottle and spitting it out in a fluid and practised motion. He took one large gulp of the gold brown liquid, savouring the rich oaky flavour…<span style="color: red">’Good Emperor, D’crux has some good tastes.’</span>He thought, placing the bottle and the cigarettes on the desk, quickly rummaging through it for a lighter before swivelling around to the bed and his luggage…<br/><br/>That’s when it hit him.<span style="color: red">’When we were chatting, she kept looking at me when she mentioned the Emperor. Almost as if she was trying to see if she had convinced me of something… She was subtle about it, very damned subtle. A blink and I would've missed it...’</span>Covud nodded to himself, sure that he had found the answer. Perhaps she had no real faith in the God-Emperor anymore due to some tragic event, Covud could certainly relate to that. Or perhaps she was a recidivist… Or… what if she was neither? What if… He cut that train of thought off, he had absolutely nothing on her and two very good reasons why he should not pursue such thoughts;<br/><br/>First; D’crux, being a rogue trader, was the only sure way of staying out of the reach of the Inquisition and the Ecclesiarchy, both of whom wanted Covud dead. Something which he was very adverse to.<br/><br/>Second; D’crux most certainly had dirt on him, she had seen the way he had reacted around the sister… He was still kicking himself for not having reacted better; nerves had gotten the better of him. Covud resolved not to let that happen again, after all the sister appeared not to know him, hence she was no danger. But still, the damage was already done and if D’crux wanted to she could apply pressure… Pressure he would be forced to give into.<br/><br/>Covud shook his head, he needed to do something to keep himself busy… Stop him thinking about the position he found himself in. He opened up the white bag, pulling out his pump action shotgun as well as a large piece of red velvet. He laid the velvet over the desk and placed the shotgun ontop of it… hands running along its familiar length for a moment. The Powermaul and revolver on his hips were also placed on the velvet cover. He would rigorously clean, check and recheck each and every weapon he had; first the shot gun, second the revolver, third the maul, and lastly the shield. To conclude he would take stock of ammunition and powercells.<br/><br/>Before that though he took a hefty swig of the amansec bottle and lit up a lho-stick. He quickly tapped at the vox controls on the desk… Grinning as he read the small green readout. The vox speakers in the room could be used for music. Soon the room was bathed in the thumping bass notes that made up the infamous genre of Pound (granted it was some cheap mid-hive imitation but it was close enough). Covud had gained a bit of a taste for it after all the time spent in various Underhives, it was all the mutants seemed to listen too. Pity anyone in a neighbouring room.<span style="color: red">”Let the busy work begin,”</span>He muttered.<br/><br/>((edit; I have no idea what genre of music could be used to represent Pound, pardon my not including a ling XD))<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>