[@Wraithblade6]

[center][h2] - Vulkan/Dave Grimm - [/h2][/center]

The Black Dragon Commander nodded, and stood, although his mask hid any thoughts he might have as he looked over his new commander. Inside his armour, the warrior stood over two meters tall, towering above the vampire. While Mithias might have been tall for his time, he found himself consistently dwarfed by the superhuman Astartes. "Yes, sir. I will ensure that the company functions fully. My name is Dave Grimm, of the Third Company." Dave's voice came out sounding almost mechanical through the mask's many filters, although it was still perfectly audible. he placed his fist over his heart, in an age-old sign of respect, before turning to a nearby console. He seemed to start typing something in when Mithias once more approached Vulkan.

Vulkan, for his part, turned grim at the vampire's words. Much of what he said bothered him greatly. This meant that this vampire, Alucard, possessed some kind of control-based ability, linked to blood. Perhaps this was related to how this creature controlled the Tyranid, something that had previously been believed to be impossible. But it was important to gain as much information on vampires as possible, and the previously summoned techpriests busily recorded every word Mithias spoke, creating a database dedicated to information gathered on vampires in general, and Alucard in particular.

When the towering titan next spoke, his voice held no humour. "You state that your species possesses the ability to control those linked to you by blood, and then in the same breath dare demand that I drink yours? You are certainly an interesting fellow, to so brazenly demand such a thing." Mithias might recognize at this point that his wording had been... unfortunate. Vulkan knew that he could easily force the vampire to give up his blood. He could rip off the creature's arms before it had even blinked. But such things were pointless. "Know that I grant you command, and rank, because you have earned my respect. Know also that respect is a mutual thing. Your men shall command nothing of you, save that you lead them well. You shall command nothing of me, but that I treat you with the respect you have earned. No more and no less, Mithias Vladomere. I may not be your master, but I am not your equal. Remember this." For a moment, Vulkan retained his stern stance, glaring down at the vampire, who barely came up to the Primarch's midriff.

"However, for this once, I shall deign to agree to your request. However, you will agree to allow my scientists to take a sample of your blood, that it may be studied in a laboratory." This was not a request, and no amount of arguing would be accepted. If necessary, Vulkan would happily manhandle the newly appointed commander to acquire what he wanted.

Such things out of the way, the Primarch caught the drop of blood on the tip of his finger, and placed it in his mouth. The taste of blood was foreign to him, as unlike many other chapters, the Salamanders did not eat their dead. But even he could tell this blood was abnormal, and as it entered his system, he could feel a pull. A strange pounding sensation, a tug, as if he found himself in a maelstrom. Looking around, he found himself staring at a spot on the wall, drawn to what was beyond. It was like the Emperor's own beacon, if His light were shrouded with darkness. It was faint enough that it might have gone unnoticed, but strong enough that he could not ignore it, not now that he knew it was there. This force that was there, this beacon of power. This was somehow connected to how this Alucard had taken control of the Tyranid swarm. Vulkan sighed, rubbing his temples, and waited a moment for his vision to clear.

Primarch immune systems were well beyond superhuman, and the vampiric blood was rapidly eliminated as a potential threat. The effects faded fast, but the memories would last far longer. Vulkan sighed, knowing that this experience had shown him something, even if he wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. "Very well. You are dismissed, Vladomere. Try not to get your men killed." He turned and vanished, engulfed by the bright white and blue energies of the Unity system.

"Sir, as the new commander, you must be introduced to the men. And I have readied the armoury." Meanwhile, Dave had managed to open a portal to the Black Dragons armoury, through which Mithias would be allowed to re-arm himself with the finest weaponry available to the Angels of Death. He would find himself presented with Bolters, Lasguns, and a variety of power weapons. Sets of sabers, engulfed in a thin field of energy designed to break down molecular bonds, allowing them to slice through even the toughest weaponry. The mighty chainsword, in a variety of colourful renditions. An armoured gauntlet, containing ancient technology that massively augmented the strength of anyone who used it. Claws wreathed in powerful energy, capable of incinerating anything that merely grazed them. The weapons were both numerous and incredible, making Soldier's most advanced armaments look like child's toys. Dave nodded. "Take what you need. Unfortunately, you will not be able to use a suit of Power Armour, lacking the proper implants." In order for Mithias to properly use that particular piece of gear, he would need to undergo the full process of space marinification, although it was dubious whether or not it would even work, and certainly too lengthy to even be considered at the moment.