Segine Hammercleaver was a beautiful man; there was that to be said about him. Even with most of him encased in a large suit of red and white power armour, his face was still fairer than any Gravus Nurion had ever seen. Gravus looked across at the other Chapter Master and ran an oversized hand over his short dark hair. This meeting was informal, a discussion about a Chaos incursion that was happening on the nearby planet of Accatran. Although it was of little strategic value due to its close location to the Maelstrom, it did manufacture weaponry used by the Imperial Army, making it rather useful.
Gravus looked up at Hammercleaver, wondering why he had been called in to this meeting. His Chapter were currently engaged with the Orks, though that particular war was coming to its conclusion in a most satisfactory manner. Despite this, he would rather be with them than sitting here; it was a waste of his time. Corvinus would be taking care of the war while he was here speaking about Accatran, “What is to be done?” he asked, giving his attention back to the other Chapter Master. Why this message couldn’t have been sent through an astropath was another thought that struck him and he pressed his lips together in thought.
“You know how this goes,” Hammercleaver said.
He knew alright but that didn’t mean he was just going to accept it, “Tell me anyway,” Gravus said.
Hammercleaver rolled his eyes before speaking; unable to hide his thoughts as well as he thought he could. “The astropath message was intended for you, it was intercepted by us instead. You were close by so instead of sending another missive through the warp I delivered it myself,” he said. There was no mistaking the snort at the end of his speech but Gravus kept his contempt in check. He was about to say something when one of The Brotherhood’s serfs stumbled in.
Both Chapter Master’s turned to look at the interruption, the colour drained from the unfortunate servant’s face. By the look of his clothing, robes rather than the rags, this was Hammercleaver’s Ordinator. The Ordinator backed out of the room, shutting the large door behind him. Gravus turned away from the mistaken intrusion but did not miss the slight tug of annoyance between the other’s perfect brow or the clenching of his encased fist either. He did not doubt that there would be some repercussion later on.
The door shut and the attention was turned back to the important matter: war. “So, you’ll take The Black Hands to Accatran. Surely the simple task of beating a few heretics is no match for your warriors…” Gravus bristled. Looking over Hammercleaver’s perfect features, from the blonde hair to the green of his eyes, he realised he would like nothing more than to punch some flaws into him.
“Of course not,” he spat, “We’ll do the job easily enough.” He refrained from adding anything about the Brethren being unable to do so; it would merely be turned around by sugary words and only serve to make him angrier. He rose then, wanting to be as far away from this warrior as he could. Beautiful he might be but there was something rotten inside that core of his and Gravon did not want to hang around. His manners were not forgotten however, he gave his peer a polite nod of his head before returning to his escort, a small guard of his warriors.
“Good luck,” Segine called after him.
“We don’t need luck,” he retorted before exiting the room.
Heretic Deb! 