*Armont's footsteps echoed through the hallways. By now, most would know that the thunderous pounding the deck was taking was due to the sole Black Templar aboard the ship. His course leading him to the mess hall. His armor shone from the recent cleaning the onboard servitors had given it. He himself had undergone training to accept that, yes, there were psychers and xenos aboard, but no, his mission was not to destroy them. Most of the crew had been warned of this also. So when he entered the mess hall, the momentary lull in sound was not seen as abnormal. He sighed heavily, moving to the food recepticle area and getting his ration for lunch, which was about 4 times the normal for anyone else. He looked around before spotting a chair made to withstand the heavy marine in his armor. He thudded over to it and sat, the chair straining regardless. He watched a woman scurry out the door looking a bit officious. Probably one of the techs. He huffed and began eating."