A light crackle of electricity runs through the air as Ghods materializes standing next to the bay doors. Some of the crew acknowledge him, however, most don't because among the Lightbearers, the sight of him appearing and disappearing had become commonplace. A hiss of air comes from his mask as it switches from recirculating air to standard pressure. He gives a nod of courtesy to Cortana before regarding her little Angel. "And here we have the ever rumored Angel. Pardon my entrance, I simply like to assure that I'm not followed."

Netsakh's indignancy and annoyance is nearly overwhelming. They know that their bearer simply hides because they believe their emergence brings some feeling of magnificence. Their bearer does not need it's ego inflated more than it already is. Their mind reaches out to the two: "Do not worry for this one. They are headstrong in foolishness, and should be payed little attention."

Ghods laughs as he unlatches and removes his helmet in an attempt to make himself less threatening. The light wisps of red energy that flared behind his sunglasses faded slightly, but were still there despite his best efforts. "Well, if it helps any, you can call me Romulus, and think of me as a big dog that goes around doing what other people tell it to..."

"A Fairey, huh? Never really thought of it that way. Of course-"

Netsakh's impatience with their bearer peaked in that moment. Taking matters into their own hands, they manifested the image their bearer had created of them, a young female with white hair and a red dress, as a hallucinated image to the Angel. While the image of their consciousness sat elegantly and weightlessly on their bearers shoulder, they focused their attention on the situation at hand "Be silent, bearer of our own."
Ghods immediately straightened, looking mildly dejected. "Yes, ma'am."
"Do not call us ma'am."
"Yes, little light."
"Do not call us little."
"Yes..." Ghods failed to think of another title for Netsakh, and so remained silent

In the blink of an eye, Netsakh's image stood directly in front of the Angel. "Pay our bearer little mind. To listen to him is to be trapped in a fairy dance, and should you not break free, you will find yourself in a winding tale with no end. A puppet dancing to ten-thousand strings in blissful ignorance, forgetting purpose, duty, and path." Netsakh's knowledge of the ancient ways of darklings, gleaned from their bearer, became useful at this time. "Listen to him, and he will weave a web of stories. Ignoring him is the proper course of action"
"Don't you think you're being to harsh on me?"
"No."
They smiled sweetly through the image. "Maintain your standing always, and he will submit."

Ghods took a moment to admire the coherency of Netsakh's speech, which she clearly objected to due to the sharp pain that crossed his mind fractions of a second later. He studied the Angel a bit further. She had a small knife, brand new. It must have been what was in the package Cortana had, given that Cortana no longer had the package. Furthermore, and the reason why he was here, the Angel had extensive scarring, and a damaged or missing eye. He had attended an intensive course held by the Med Force that set up shop in Omicrons. He was here in case something went wrong. He could keep them alive in case of an accident, and could put to use the knowledge of nerve-grafting he had gained in case they decided to change their plan of action. "I'm not as bad as Netsakh says, I promise. Sometimes I get sidetracked, but that's only sometimes." He offered his hand forward. "Pleased to finally meet you, little Angel."