"Sergeant," Markus said, nodding to Haimes as she entered the Valkyrie. Seated directly across from the door, his well-made power sabre (http://www.helsinki.fi/~pjojala/Swiss_Sabre_renaissance.jpg) laying across his lap. Next to him sat the helmet for his carapace armour, the finest protection the Imperium had to offer this side of the tank-like ceramite coating used by the Adeptus Astartes. Holstered on his right thigh was a hot-shot laspistol, standard issue among the Storm Troopers.<br/><br/>Markus rolled his neck in a clockwise rotation, feeling the muscles stretch and the bones pop into place. He was a muscular specimen, as fine as any unmodified man could be. His dark blue eyes watched the faces of his fellow Storm Troopers. He had been recently assigned to this squad after his previous one had suffered massive casualties in a campaign against the greenskins. He didn't know any of these troopers well, including his commanding officer, Master-Sergeant Haimes. Quietly, he tried to take a measure of his new comrades, looking for signs of strength and weakness in any of them...