Arban's eyes shut, all three, and the young Navigator breathed in and out. During a journey through the warp, there was none that could spell him, or take his place. He alone guided the ship through the warp. But a moments inattention, a slip... and they all could die. Much rested upon the shoulders of a Navigator, in Warp. He knew of the consequences well. He had seen them. He also heard of the disturbances of the ship, those that went mad. But in the end, they were not his concern. His charge was the entire ship. And as the ship breached the immaterium, returning to the (comparatively) calm shoals of real space, the Navigator enjoyed a moments pause, shutting out the world. He heard the Voidmistress take control, of her travails, but did not open his eyes. There was naught he could do. She would succeed, or fail. He would just get in the way. As the ship responded to her, however, Arban opened his eyes once more. His normal eyes. The third one remained shut, and indeed, Arban removed the headscarf he carried and began to wind it around his head.<br/><br/>"Apologies for the short notice, Voidmistress. The Charts did not indicate any wreckage."<br/><br/>His voice was calm, as he nodded, looking over at the Trader, bowing respectfully.<br/><br/>"Of course."<br/><br/>He straightened up and smiled at the others, blinking easily.<br/><br/>"Shall we attempt to see what is out there?"