You remain silent

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You look up from cleaning your boltgun, the oil rag still in your hands and meet the chaplain's skull-helmed gaze for several moments before going back to your weapon, ignoring the chaplain and listening to the jungle insects.

"Brother, I asked you a question." He says.

You remain silent.

"It is common courtesy to answer when another speaks to you." He says.

You say nothing and finish oiling your bolter, you set down the rag and pick up your helmet, dusting it off.

The chaplain growls. "Ullanxes. Answer. Me."

You blow on your helmet and buff an eyepeice.

The chaplain reaches out and delivers a blow, knocking you over. He stands over you. "Have I got your attention?

strike him

shoot him

apologize.

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