Johnny Anders had strange toughts these days. For the first time, he hated the Empire, everything he believed before. For the first time, he questioned everything at once. His Duty, was a total shit. He realized that, they were protecting rich and elite people, the upper class. While the "low-lifes" left to their own fate. They were not working for Human Race, they were working for their "masters".<br/><br/>With these things in his mind, Johnny entered the tavern. Walking slowly, like a mess. With his Imperial uniform and flak armour. His Assault Rifle was hanged from his shoulder. His helmet was attached to his bandolier. His military jacket was open, he didn't button up. His black hair combed to right. His eyes was on everyone. His right hand was holding his Assault Rifle's handle. He was sure many people's eyes were on him. An Imperial Guard in tavern. It could make some people get mad.<br/><br/>Johnny lit a cigarette. Slowly walked to an empty stool. Sit on it. Put some money on the bar, started speaking, his voice was deep like always.<span style="color: #FF8040">"Give me something, non-alcohol."</span>He always tried to keep his mind open. Being high, drunk or something else, is not Johnny's thing. He got his drink, tasted it. Something like mixed fruit juice, wasn't sure about it. Actually, he didn't give a shit about it. He had a weird feeling. May be it was a mistake to get in bar with his uniform.<br/><br/>Johnny gathered his mind together. There was a man laying on ground. There were orks, Tau's, Space Marines. May be Chaos Marines? Who cares? This place is a shithole. Johnny was losing his faith and loyality. All the time, he was very loyal. But now... He gathered his mind together again. He had a very weird feeling. He had to be careful. Checking his back, looking everywhere. To other races, to his own race. Many faces, many individuals. And, may be many threats.