Darius first makes sure to start topping off his armor's batteries, then leaves his suit plugged in while he gathers the rest of his gear and makes sure it's all ready to go.  He quickly disasembles, cleans, and reassembles his heavy Bolter and pistol, double checks the ammo for both, and makes sure everything is harnessed properly for easy retrieval in combat.<br/><br/>Going through his gear, he selects a bandolier of six grenades, four frag and two smoke, and double checks his handy tube of repair cement, which is still tucked, as always, inside a little tube holder attached almost unnoticeably to the power armor's waist.  So far, he's never had to plug a hole in his armor while under actual fire, but his training with the Ultramarines included extensive drilling in it's application, including one live exercise in an airlock with an already damaged suit.  He pats it, reassured by it's unobtrusive but lifesaving presence, then starts methodically strapping on each piece of gear.<br/><br/>Everything has it's place, from the ubiquitous medical kit to the mono edged combat knife.  He had made a small modification to his kit years ago to add a grapple launcher to a holster that otherwise would carry a holdout weapon.  The tiny motor in it had been tested only twice, to avoid wear and tear, but it had proved, if barely, capable of hauling him in his full armor straight up under a single grav, if not quickly.  He did not relish the idea of having to pull himself along the length of it's hundred meter cable if the motor failed... Although that too was something he had done while in training.<br/><br/>Satisfied with his preparations, he idly wondered in the Aquila lander would have a fully stocked shipboard emergency kit, or if he should bring his own, pristine, but many times packed and repacked one.<br/><br/>As he waited for his power armor batteries to show a full charge, he contemplated the mission ahead with some relish.  He had been relegated to replacing heavy and extremely expensive replacement parts around inside a lethally hot and probably radioactive engine bay for nearly a year now.  The job had been boring, and worse, quite dangerous at the same time... And there, he had no chance for advancement.  If he made a mistake, he could destroy a component worth much more than his own life, but if he performed flawlessly, no one would notice.<br/><br/>Darius reveled in a moment in the memories of his big break.  Needing volunteers for a boarding action, Darius had leaped at the chance, and had arrived at the airlock he was designated to go through wearing his prized possession, an extremely well kept and repaired set of military grade powered armor... It was old, out of date and slightly archaic, but lovingly maintained.  Slung over his shoulder was his other big surprise, an actual heavy Bolter, also ancient but again, in surprisingly good condition.<br/><br/>Shocked by how surprisingly well equipped this nameless grunt was, the sergeant ordered him to take the point position, hoping at least that the dumb lug would soak up most of the initial fire during the fight.  Darius had quickly surpassed expectation with his witheringly accurate fire and cool head.<br/><br/>As the various squads from his ship had joined up during the fighting, he had been awed and inspired to see the Rogue Trader himself leading the attack.  Emboldened, Darius became fearless under Cortez's command, and apparently his skill and courage has been noticed, as within hours after the successful action, he had been informed that he would be joining the ranks of Cortez's personal guards.<br/><br/>To once again have a life of purpose filled Darius with an almost religious furor.  He had been more than a little nervous at the party... Uncomfortable and uncertain to his role, and he had nearly panicked at the sight of Commisar Antony's attempt to murder Cortez.  A hundred thoughts had vied for attention as he had raced to the rescue, but one predominated.  No one would kill the Rogue Trader... his commander... Not while he lived.<br/><br/>Only moments after he had manage to pin the Commisar, the possible consequences for his reckless act started pounding through his head.  He was certain he would be reprimanded, punished... Perhaps sent back to hard pointless labor... or a fate even worse.<br/><br/>Instead, Cortez himself had assigned him to a mission of incredible importance.  Success would mean the Rogue Trader would acquire an actual Imperial Cruiser... failure would mean the death of the Rogue Trader, Cortez, his command staff, and probably the disillusion of his company.  Darius swore to himself firmly... they would NOT fail!