[i]We shall be his finest warriors, we who give ourselves to His image. Like clay we shall be moulded, and in the furnace of war shall we be forged. We shall be of iron will and steely sinew. In great armour we are clad and with the mightiest weapons are we armed. We will be untouched by plague or disease; no sickness shall blight us. We shall have such tactics, strategies and machines that no foe will best us in battle. We are His bulwark against the Terror. We are the Defenders of Humanity. We are Space Marines ...and We shall know no fear.[/i] Jarle sat in his corner of the physical training suite, and went over what meaning these words had for him. Nothing...... absolutely nothing.... they held no special place in his mind, but they still persisted in weighing on it. Perhaps it was because of his actions up to this point, or maybe it was his failure to live up to the ideal set by the Emperor. No matter, for he'd be killed if anyone found out about his prior actions. He shakes his head, and sets to work maintaining his wargear. [spoiler]Waiting on the shit to hit the fan. May as well be open though.[/spoiler]