Except for Domhnall, who lowers himself to the floor, we all take a seat around the green felted table. Raphael looks slightly silly as his chair is rather high so that he’s the same height as the rest of us. It makes him look a bit like a kid in a high chair, but mismatched heights are a common enough problem that Raphael pulls off the look without looking silly.

I say, “You can consult the rules at any time by connecting to the table via your implants.” I pour everyone a full glass of amasec. “I have prepared chips for everyone, but they don’t have any monetary value. Instead, to make the game a bit more fun, amasec top ups will go to the victor of each round. I have different blends and quantities that I will add depending on your weight and physique, so everything will be equal.

“In the interests of fairness, I will be emulating how drunk I would be if I was a normal human, and not almost fully robotic and immune to recreational drugs. I’ll make the emulation I am using available to Balor to examine so that he can vouch for me if required.

“We have four hours scheduled for our game and the person with the most chips at the end of our time together will be the winner. I don’t have a prize prepared for the victor, but I’m willing to put one up if everyone else is as well. Perhaps items of personal value, rather than monetary value, would be best. It wouldn’t do to accidentally bribe the Inquisitor.”

Raphael laughs, “I don’t think you need to worry about that, Magos. Bribes on our scale are usually a ship’s hold full of luxuries, or priceless archeotech, not petty gold or thrones.”

“We are an ascetic order,” says Balor. “We do not have much. A single personal item is much more feasible. I appreciate your tact, Magos,” Balor glances at Raphael.

Domhnall says, “I have a box of twenty custom Helspear Bolts. Ideal for penetrating psychic defences, such as those of demons and psykers. They are all handcrafted and blessed by myself through many weeks of prayer. I crossed them with Implosion Rounds, so they actually contain a small quantity of anti-matter and are absurdly dangerous to make, and carry. They’re also utterly lethal and can instantly kill a power armoured foe or small combat walker with a single shot. I would be willing to bet my custom Helspear Bolts.”

“That is quite the sacrifice, Major-General Noake,” says Balor.

Domhnall says, “Rather the point of the bet!”

“I look forward to using them,” says Verlin. “I have something similar, though I only have one. A single Scorpius Bolt from the Great Crusade. It contains a micro-guidance system and a sabot that vaporises into plasma on a hit for superior penetration compared to the kraken bolts that replaced them. The rounds are rather temperamental and according to the records I have, they were individually hand-crafted by the tech-priests of Mars. It is both too valuable to use and not reliable enough to be worth using.”

“I would love to take a look at that,” I say. “I think we have something of a theme here. Rahael?”

Raphael sighs, “I have five psybolts for a psycannon. Like Helspear bolts, they can penetrate any Warp based shielding, both tech and psyker based. I would not normally trade these, but I have no psycannon to fire them with. They can be fired from a normal heavy bolter, but unlike the Helspear bolts, would be significantly less effective without the accompanying blessed and inscribed bolters. Similar to Force-Commander Verlin’s bet, they are both valuable yet somewhat useless.”

“An interesting collectible, nonetheless,” says Balor. “I have seven Dragonfire rounds I traded from a brother who returned from the Deathwatch. They can be set with a timer to explode behind the target’s cover, releasing a flammable gas. While of little use against well armoured targets, a single shell can wipe out a whole squad of lightly armoured traitor guardsmen and mad cultists. They are not on par with the other offerings, but they will still be useful in the upcoming conflict and I have nothing else to share.”

“That just leaves you, Magos,” says Raphael. “Do you have another lost tech to shock us all with?”

“I do not. I have some Witch Bolts, but I was going to issue a single magazine of those to everyone with a bolter for this operation, so I can’t really use that as a bet. Witch Bolts inhibit a creature’s connection to the Warp. I packed their cores with phase iron filings. They are effective against both psykers and demonhosts, though less so against actual warp entities as they do not have a proper physical body to poison.”

“Magos, you’re really going all out to issue such rare ammunition?” says Raphael.

“From Domhnall’s preparations I can see I am not the only one who’s prepared something for a special occasion. I expect every Herald is the same. They are well paid and rather invested in their own survival. Besides, we recently replaced all their sidearms with bolt pistols as there is a greater variety of specialist ammo for them for mission appropriate loadouts, rather than the phosphor rounds we were using before. They still have the bolt equivalent of those too though.”

Raphael knocks his knuckles against Domhnall’s massive frame, “I see what you mean by investment in survival.”

Domhnall laughs, “Your bet then, Magos?”

“I fear I must break the theme. After our melee scuffle with the Necrons on Kinbriar, Maeve asked me to come up with a weapon that could be mass produced and was effective against such machines.

“A vibro-knife is fine against most foes in an emergency, but we rarely face standard humanoids. The original purpose of the knife was to have something that could be both a tool and a weapon, like the Krieger’s ever popular combat shovel. This is no longer necessary after we began issuing mechadendrites to Acolytes, Herald conscripts who chose to become career soldiers.

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“The vibro-knife has been replaced with an arc-maul, the Skitarii version of an Arbites shock maul. It is deadly against machines and flesh. During my weapon evaluations, I created a prototype volkite maul. Rather than shock an entity into non-function, the volkite maul turns them to ash and slag. It was slightly unreliable and too expensive to issue to all Heralds and, dare I say it, overkill.

“The bigger problem though is that my volkite maul doesn’t have a safety cut off. A shock maul can detect if the user hits themself and cut off the current before they are harmed. A volkite maul releases so much energy on impact that there is no chance for avoiding self harm during an accident or forced error.

“The user must also wear power armour or the discharge can harm the user. It’s a good weapon for a Warforged or a Space Marine. It’s a terrible weapon for a Herald Acolyte or Herald Conscript. I have not seen Raphael in action, so I could not comment on how useful you might find it.”

“That is a fascinating creation,” says Balor. “It might not be a bolter round, but it does fit the niche weapon theme. I am content with such an offering.”

“Then let us play at last!” says Verlin.

I deal the cards, “Very well.”

Verlin wins the first two rounds and I pick up that he is actually enjoying himself and trying to hide that he’s actually played a lot of games in his down time. If it wasn’t for my emotion sensing I would have completely missed it. No doubt he’s been trying to trick us all with his feigned disinterest from the start, sneaky bastard.

“Raphael,” I say, “What is the dumbest and most bold action you have ever done?”

Raphael, “Well, that is more interesting than swapping war stories, though I suspect there will be some overlap.” He puts down more chips, “I raise.”

I look at the cards on the table, my mind running the probabilities without me giving it any thought. I’ll probably lose, but I decide to play anyway. It’s to my benefit if one of my new allies wins as we’re not friends just yet.

“Raise,” I say.

“When I first joined Inquisitor Hamiz retinue, way before I had worked out what everyone’s role was, I took Killovie Signi out for a date after my first successful mission. I boasted a little, just enough to make myself look good without being arrogant or unbelievable.

“She listened attentively, and I thought I was doing well, then Killovie brought out her holograms in the middle of the restaurant, and proceeded to point out my every lie with pict recordings. Then she complimented me and dragged me off to her quarters. I was too confused and embarrassed to refuse.

“I’ve never accepted another invitation from her and since then have had absolutely no privacy. Killovie loves dropping hints that she always knows exactly what, and who, I’ve been doing.”

Verlin chuckles, “Why in the Emperor’s name did you bring her with you?”

“Inquisitor Hamiz wasn’t too pleased with her last antics, nor was he pleased about me joining the Stellar Fleet, or Magos Issengrund’s treatment of him. I suspect this is his subtle revenge.”

“I did wonder why he was willing to let her become the first member of your new retinue,” I say. “People with her skills are few and far between.”

Balor puts his cards face down on the table, “I fold. Killovie effectiveness at infiltrating the Receiving Yards and picking targets for us is refreshing. Her tendency to gloat if one fails at a task, then give it to her to complete, rather than just ask for her help in the first place, does irritate me though.”

“I fold,” Verlin says. “I am sure the Inquisitor has since learned whom he can and cannot mess with.”

Raphael grimaces, “Unfortunately, my job usually involves the opposite. Your turn Magos.”

I alter the permissions on the cards and reveal my hand. Raphael sighs and flips his.

“I did not expect to win that,” I say. “As for my most bold and dumb action, I once fought a squad of demonettes by myself while wearing only a medical gown and armed with a plasteel pipe and a child’s water pistol filled with holy oils.”

That’s not quite what happened, but no harm in bigging myself up a bit!

“A tale taller than you, I dare say,” Verlin raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, take the fun out of it will you?” I say. “I was behind a barricade and the only option was to fight them or retreat into Ork territory.”

Balor nods, “Outrageous stories always sound more believable with Orks.”

I collect my chips while Raphael deals the next hand.

“You’re all a bunch of spewing squigs,” I say.

“Pics or it didn’t happen,” says Raphael.

Balor chuckles, “I never thought I’d hear an Inquisitor say that.”

Domhnall tops up my glass, “There you go, Magos. That will make everything better.”

I sip my drink, “Throne, you should have seen them, they were utterly disgusting. All claws, tentacles, and tits.”

“That’s quite enough details, Magos,” says Raphael. “I believe you. Why don’t you move us along, Tech-Marine Balor?”

“Oh, I managed to prank my drill sergeant with a modified laspistol that shaved off half his moustache. He sent me to Mars as a punishment.”

I laugh, “Yeah, that is definitely brave and dumb. Domhnall, you’re being rather quiet. Something you don’t want to say in front of your boss?”

“This is a cruel topic, Magos,” Domhnall groans. “On Cobalt I attempted to ice skate in my warform. Ice skating was a hobby of mine as a child and I wanted to see what it was like on a planet and see how fast I could go. I completely forgot I was a multi-tonne cyborg and cut right into the ice, sliding for dozens of metres on my hull in front of my soldiers. It has resulted in an unfortunate number of nicknames and sayings, the silliest of which is Iron Comet. A contrary name for contrite act. It is now my call sign and a stain I shall never remove. I am learning to own it.”

Domhnall’s story gets a round of laughs and we continue our card game.

“What about you, Force Commander?” says Balor. “I know you have no shortage of tales.”

Verlin stares at Raphael, “I shot and killed Inquisitor Tariana von Skald, Inquisitor Hamiz’s predecessor.”