Lakon regarda autour de lui, mais fit de son mieux pour le garder subtil. Il a fait le bilan de ses environs et s'est demandé ce qui allait se passer maintenant. Le Commandant n'avait pas dit grand-chose avant de partir, mais il n'avait pas encore été exécuté, donc il a supposé que les choses allaient bien. Il n'était habillé que dans le corps noir plat qu'il aurait porté sous son armure de puissance, s'il en avait. Au moment où il avait été récupéré de son "transport", il n'y avait plus que des cendres et de la poussière. Mais il se demandait s'il aurait dû garder son équipement. En même temps, il pensait que les choses auraient pu empirer si d'autres Astartes connaissaient ses origines. Content de garder ces choses secrètes, il s'est battu contre l'envie de revérifier le shiv qu'il avait mis dans sa manche. C'était probablement une précaution stupide, mais il préférerait qu'on l'appelle paranoïaque plutôt que de finir par perdre la fin d'un combat.
Le hangar lui-même semblait assez typique, si plus grand que la plupart, mais c'est la présence de l'aumônier de veille qui a vraiment fait ressortir l'endroit. L'armure noire et le casque du crâne ont donné à l'homme immédiatement, bien que la marine supposait que tout le monde serait habillé en armure noire par ici. Les Anges du Sang pauldron donna aux Astartés sans Chapitre un rayon d'espoir. Il n'avait jamais eu de relations avec les Anges du Sang, mais il avait entendu des histoires, et juste la présence d'un tel guerrier évidemment sanctifié a soulevé l'esprit du guerrier, si seulement un peu. Cependant, alors que l'aumônier commença son discours, le regard de Lakon mourut, et il fixa le mur au loin. Il y avait un trio de lumières clignotantes à peu près au niveau des yeux, et il a commencé à essayer de discerner un motif là-dedans clignotant simplement pour garder son esprit actif.
Il a entendu le guerrier saint dire quelque chose sur les horreurs innombrables qu'ils rencontreraient, et a exhalé un peu plus fort dans son nez. L'Astartest apparemment parfait avant eux a demandé beaucoup trop d'informations pour le goût des Astartes trouvés et il a attendu jusqu'à ce que le super humain blindé noir s'approche de lui pour parler. "Bien rencontré, aumônier. Frère Lakon." sa voix était basse, et il parlait avec une force étirée, s'arrêtant juste à peine de trop insister sur une syllabe donnée. Chaque mot avait évidemment été réfléchi. Son regard ne s'était toujours pas éloigné des lumières clignotantes, bien qu'il ait renoncé à trouver un modèle en eux...
Code Name: Lakon
Chapter: Black Shield
Chapter Demeanour: Ambitious
Personal Demeanour: Stoic/Pious
Character Type: Kill-Marine
Rank: Freshly-Promoted Battle-Brother
Power Armour History: A cobbled-together and partially-scratch-built suit of power armour, the sum of the experiences of its individual parts is estimated to near a thousand years, and at minimum spans several centuries. However the unorthodox nature of its creation has resulted in a machine spirit that has not yet properly coalesced into a single entity. While this has not caused any actual issues, the tech-priests that participated in the construction claim that performance will improve when the armour has properly bonded with itself and its wearer, and spend a good deal more time than is healthy performing obscure rites, waving censers, and chanting in binary when the armour is not in use. When asked, the tech-priests will insist that it is a suit of Mk 6 "Corvus" power armour, but the obviously Mk 8 "Errant" helmet lends a great deal of confusion and suspicion to that statement. Performance reviews thus far are consistent with Mk 6 power armour, however, and the tech-priests insist that it merely requires time for the machine spirit to mature.
Description: Lakon is a fairly typical superhuman brick shithouse. He stands just a hair under eight feet tall out of his armour, and even when he isn't wrapped in ceramite and plasteel his palpably indomitable will lends a more decisive air of indestructibility to the Astartes, moreso that most. Relatively young, especially when compared to other members of the Deathwatch, his flat grey eyes hold the deadness of someone who's lost a good deal more than they ever imagined they would, and a callous, determined disregard for his own life. At least as far as things that do not pertain to his mission. Where many might have broken in the face of the adversities he faced, Lakon simply carried on with his mission. Evidence of that is everywhere in the web of scars he's acquired, but is most noticeable in the bio-acid burns running down the left side of his head, and the quartet of deep gouges torn from the right side of his face. The scars prevent him from growing a real head of hair, so the Astartes has taken to leaving only a three-inch strip of black down the middle of the top of his head, which he keeps slicked back to ensure a comfortable fit under his helmet. Nowhere else on his head can grow hair with any kind of consistency, so he had it removed. The scars of such permanent removal are largely hidden by the much more obvious battle-scars that tend to glare at anyone staring for too long. Combined with his permanent radiation tan, and some wonder how he's even alive. He'd be more than happy to explain, and would even throw in a great deal of revving his chain bayonet for free, but thus far everyone has been wise enough to let sleeping Astartes lie.
Skills: Jump Pack Mastery, Astartes Shotgun Mastery, Astartes Boltgun Mastery, Close Combat Expert, Breaching Expert, Mental Fortitude Expert, Overwatch Expert, Advanced Navigation(Ground), Advanced Navigation(Void), Advanced Dangerous Terrain Negotiation, Advanced Grenade-throwing, Intermediate Survival(Void), Intermediate Survival(Urban), Intermediate Sleight-of-hand, Intermediate Trap-laying, Intermediate Stealth Tactics.
History: A Space Marine arrived unannounced to the Watch Fortress. His vessel was little more than a glorified space hulk, though it consisted of only a single escort-class void ship. An investigation revealed that it had been a pirate vessel, heavily contaminated by the warp, and had been home to more than just human pirates. The hydroponics bays had been overrun, turned into jungles, and inhabited by feral krootoids, and the foremost quarter of the ship had been home to a tribe of slightly-less-feral Orks. That hadn't seemed to slow the pirates down, though. They'd even been coping with the warp contamination and phenomena surprisingly well, though the occasional manifestation of a minor daemon was sufficient to keep the group from getting out of hand. It would have taken at squad of Space Marines had put an end to all that, however, but there was no evidence to suggest anyone else had been on board, and no life to be found when the shuttle touched down inside the Watch Fortress. The Space Marine exited his shuttle clad only in the plain black bodyglove he would have worn under a suit of power armour. No evidence of a former Chapter was to be found, even after scouring the temporary vessel. He reported directly to the Watch Commander, and didn't make a sound toward anyone else.
Equipment and Armament: Hesh Pattern Boltgun with Kraken rounds, Hesh Pattern Breaching Shotgun with Breaching rounds, Chain Bayonet, Combat Knife, Blind Grenades, Frag Grenades.
Miscellaneous: Really likes Jump Packs, Drop Pods, and anything else that is good for hurtling toward the enemy at unhealthy speeds, preferably in the cramped quarters of a Voidship, but anywhere will do, really.