Abran slunk off the Bridge quietly. He... had never really felt comfortable in the hands of the Ecclesiarchy. It was not that he lacked faith in the God-Emperor... but that he knew that only necessity protected him from the holy flame that all mutants were condemned to. Navigators were useful. Necessary. But that did not make them loved by the Ecclesiarchy. He'd take a shower, and then go back to face what remained out there. Abran had faltered in contact with the creature... but he doubted that anyone who touched that mind would have done any better. In fact, he had to wonder if they would still be sane. Either way though, he focused, recovering himself as he walked off the bridge, toward the Quarters provided to him. Like most Navigators quarters, they were slightly separated, capable of being sealed off. For the older ones, who had succumbed to to many mutations, it was necessary to prevent prying eyes. In his case, it simply provided him some welcome privacy...