[color=C0C0C0][h1][center]Captain Tyros[/center][/h1][/color]

The next person to arrive in the room, had been Captain Tyros Maxim - of the Black Dragons Space Marine Chapter. Well, they weren't much of a Chapter at that, in general. Only a ship, that was operated by a techmarine and an Apochathery. With him being their usual leader - or only leader left after the millenia of fighting just to survive.

In general, the remains of the likely Loyalist Chapter for lightyears, was a simple, pragmatic survivalism. They couldn't withstand the horror of the void, any longer alone at that. Since xenos and Chaos was always around, trying to kill them at that. In addition, most of the people, that had survived the collapse of the Imperium were also in a bad situation. The average human was a easy kill for the xeno, now that the mighty bulwark of the Imperium was gone. And Chaos just kept getting stronger, with each passing day as the more desperate joined their ranks just to survive.

As such it was symbiosis - what remained of the Black Dragons, namely him. Aided in keeping the nascent new Imperium afloat. And in return, their legend and Chapter would regrow at that - thanks to the munitions they received from Gregori. Also slowly but surely, they had already recruited around a dozen new recruits, to join the ranks of the Black Dragons and follow in the line of their Primarch Vulkan and the Salamanders. But that would take time, and effort and likely maybe three or one would survive the implantation of their Gene-Seed. But in short, Space Marines were a resilient bunch and they would continue on. In physical form. Or in myth and legend.

For now however, he had business to attend to. As he soon entered the hall, where various other [i]people[/i] had gathered in. He kept mostly to himself, and didn't persay try to question much the ideal of having xenos and renegades be commanded under an Imperial...Imperium. But at this point, it wasn't much up for a debate. The Galaxy had been worse once, now...everything was more in fucked-up to a sense, that arguing about who was right by some unknown will seemed pointless. Namely because Chaos didn't pick a side, it was its own side and consumed all with equal and unrelenting gusto. So at this point, the black-armored giant merely kept his tone as he walked inside. Keeping an eye on the Renegades and Xeno. As long as they didn't cause Chaos or try to destroy anything - and served with some eagerness, he would let it slide. But by the Emperor was it pulling a real stretch and only their belief stemming from the Salamanders, held back his rage to simply tear many a Heretic in this room into pieces.

[color=C0C0C0]"Lord Gregori,"[/color] he said, merely as an acknowledgement as he soon stood against a nearby wall and watched the proceeding and arrivals. Slowly sharpening his spikes at that, made from their failed Gene-Seed and tipped in adamantium. It made him some people uneasy, yet he could with atleast some word say - he was the [i]least[/i] threatening foe in this era. Or in this current system.