Xanatov’s wandering eyes located a number of elite crew they’d recruited.  As he started towards them, he not only missed the comely navy officer who’d been such a lucky find, he actually nudged her with his shoulder, offered a distracted apology and charming smile, all without realizing who she was.<br/><br/>Perhaps she recognized him, the outrageous goatee was somewhat distinctive, and the clothing was quite rich.  There was also a sword at his belt, wrapped in ornamental silks.  It was not peace bonded—something that would be rude at best for any save the active guard and their host’s immediate family.<br/><br/>He snagged a glass of sweet red amnesac without missing a beat as he approached them.  “Ah, Arden, Seda, Nicholai.”  He looked into each of their eyes as he spoke their names, not hesitating to meet the eyes of a psyker, nor hesitating to take the hand of a tech priest and gently brush his lips over her knuckles.<br/><br/>What’s more, he seemed relatively sober!<br/><br/>“Xanatov Itugen.  I have read all your dossiers and look forewords to working with you.”<br/><br/>He turned to look deeper into the room, caught the eyes of an attendant, and beckoned her to wheel over a cart who’s platter contained a mix of succulent fruits with cream and honey piled over the body of a poised, raven haired girl.<br/>