@Skarboy As soon as the Commissar entered the room Mathius rose from his seat. He then lowered his head in greeting, "Commissar Taval." He then extended a firm hand shake to him, "Captain Mathius von Webber of the Fist of Vengeance."
@matt23 Jannika turned to Mathius as he spoke, grinning back. "Come on Matty, you gotta get your hands dirty from time to time least you lose the feeling that drives ya onward. After all, don't tell me that pretty sabre is on your hip for purely cosmetic feel?" She replied and leaned over to try and take a sneak-peak at what her colleague was writing before turning her gaze around, spotting a familiarly-dressed figure of a Commissar @Skarboy enter the room. For a moment she remembered pieces of her past that made her throat sore and eyes waver for a second, before realigning her hair and offering the man an honest smile and a nod, glad that one of those warriors was attending the meeting which in contrary to popular belief, made her much less tense.
A unmissable and fiery figure also passed through the doorway, clad in red ropes and with the allways present burning crown going down in a red mask that obscured all but eyes and somehow a beard trimmed by fire, A large mace hung from the one side of his belt and a grand handcannon on the other side, , there was no true way to miss Cains entrance, he strode in with both stark comfidence, and with the poise of contained homicidal rage, he placed himself behind the chair that would be marked for the pontifex, he would not sit down. He survied the ones allready there, not all looked pure, but that was not a matter for this strict moment, the jugde was a special one, Cain could see that the moment he laid eyes on him, a certain zeal could allmost be felt of the man, hopefully he was a smarter man than some of his counterparts. The ship captains where a varied bunch for sure, and the mechanicus where nigh unreadable as ever. But for now he would just listen and watch, learn what kind of people this planet would be controlled and housed by.
The Skitarius Alpha known as Sigma-Eta 11 had taken the liberty of arriving early to ensure the place was truly safe for the Magos and his retinue, given her rather dim opinion of the quality of any guards the Imperium could provide before she had taken her seat next to the Magos' seat, the better to ensure she could defend him from any harm that dared to come to him... As unlikely as that seemed given they were all on board the Reckoning Hour, An Imperial vessel. Not wishing to take chances, the Alpha had also taken the precaution of bringing along the two Skitarii Rangers for some extra protection, and they stood one to each side of where the Mechanicum delegation sat, at the complete attention Serna demanded of them. The Skitarius herself wanted to stay aloof from the politics that were likely to ensure as everyone would argue over which world was more promising, the use that the moons would play, and all the other minutiae that would inevitably be discussed.... Unless Serna had to interject reason and logic into a debate ruled by emotions. Even then it didn't stop her sense of unease, a warrior not in her natural habitat. At least she had turned her Transonic Blade off, least everyone in the room start turning their stomachs and embarrassed themselves in front of each other. Sigma-Eta 11 decided to save her personal assessment of all those present for later, but for the most part she remained in the background, watching and listening to all those that had assembled for any useful information that the Magos, his advisors or the Executor wanted. Even if her tail was poking out from underneath her robes, and curling up on top of her chair, like a contented cat of Terra.
"The paranoia in the air is nauseating to say the least. Thankfully this family sword has only been used a few times," he said pointing to the sword. He then pulled his coat back revealing the hellpistol, "This hellpistol named Obedience on the other hand, keeps people in line while avoiding making a mess of the area. Though I would never dream of using it on wonderful types such as those we are surrounded by." What she saw in his journal was a sketch of the systems layout with proper labels and notes. On the other page was a growing list of names with notes for each, some longer than others...
Lieutenant Jonathan black walked though the halls of the ship flicking though data slates as he goes eventually finding the others and and taking a seat next to his commanding officer.
The air was electrified. Darius was no diplomat, but she could feel it. Tension. Heat. Not yet an eruption, but the usual mutual dislike of all Imperial arms. Dislike, mistrust. Personal and professional. Her eyes moved, putting the ecclesiarchs into the centre of her vision, then the Adeptus Mars. Dogmatic. She felt the stale air in her body, inflating her like a balloon as the weary woman tried her hardest to sit up straight, dignified, so regal as it was required of her position. No, she wasn't really a ruler. But much of this organisation hinged on her Adeptus' work. A semblance of respect she felt appropriate. Deserved. Yes, she deserved it. As a priestess of Holy Terra. The Prefect Prima remained quiet, hard eyes on the gathering people. She too was curious what would come next, now that they had arrived, but noted with pleasure that at least Acorda had taken up her invitation. One man she could rely on. One more loyal servant of the Imperium. Curtly, she nodded. She nodded, and breathed in the static.
Taval took the handshake with his own gloved hand, meeting the man's gaze with a measuring one of his own. "Captain, it is a pleasure. I trust that the translation back into the God-Emperor's domain was an easy one?" His eyes flickered past one Naval officer to the next, seeing Jannika's greeting as genuine and offering a genuine smile of his own. A pleasant lot, not that I have seen many unpleasant ones once I enter the room. "And I trust we'll all be keeping cool heads today? We'll be pushing back any honor duels sprung from arguments happening today until Emperor's Day, at least."
A figure of calm midst the paranoia made his entrance into the gathering just behind Cain, his steps a bit slower with age that had never been blunted and indeed reversed by a juvenant treatment. Despite this Abel carried himself tall in face of a somewhat gentler pace, garbed in simple brown robes bereft of adornment one wouldn't be mistaken thinking he wasn't meant to be here until they started to notice some of the key breaks in his form such as a ruffling of shoulder grasping at carapace armor beneath or a hand set easily over a bolt pistol chained to a single hook hanging from a primitive grox-hide belt. "I would most certainly hope so Officer Tarval, wouldn't be a fitting start to already have ourselves throat to blade ehyeh? " A warm chuckle broken up only by a slight rasping of breath followed as Abel took the seat Cain had opted to stand guard over. "Sit brother, sit. If anything happens here I doubt the extra half second to stand will be making that much a difference. " Clearing his throat their relatively green Pontifex Mundi leaned into the chairs back lacing his fingers together and setting them firmly upon their provided table. Head craning a loop of prayer beads dominated by a single heavy icon marking his status was presented beneath a face of crag like scars ornamented with a snow white goatee and two rigid shocks of hair equally stark in their aged color riding the sides of his scalp right above each ear on an otherwise bald head. Of course one could sense there was a youthful energy behind all those wrinkles and scars, someone eager to get to the matter at hand but knowing better than to dive right in during such a formal occasion. Thus far he saw no one he didn't like, having very little to judge on as of yet and nothing was betrayed by his friendly expression which didn't even waver in the face of the technophiles.
While talking to the PDF Commander, Draken kept aware of the people and conversation around him. His mechanical eye scanning and keeping profiles on everyone he was meeting. He hope this would go well but his hopes were sinking with all the posturing and suspicion hanging around the place. He was planning on recording everything for his officers to review when he got back to his regiments.
