Patrick sat in the uncomfortable Seat of Valkyrie transport, almost silent except for the slow wheezing from his rebreather. He thought of his predicament, and how lucky he must be to have been selected for this special assignment. He looked around at the others. They on the other hand must be the unluckiest basters this side of the galaxy to have been put on the same assignment as a legionnaire. His thoughts turned to the terrible hellhole they must be descending into. A rebellion on the planet Starth stirred up by cultist, just great. Xenos, sure, they have fancy gadgets, strange physiology even, but they are xenos all the same. They are abominations by purview of existing, and by eradicating them you give them the mercy their existence denies them. Heretics on the other hand, they are the Emperors children, there existence is no abomination. They are merely lamb lead astray, much like Patrick himself. What makes him so special, why does he get his chance at redemption and they don't?

He sighs heavily, holding his Aquila in his hand and rubbing his thumb across it, before bowing his head and closing his eyes.

[color=39b54a]"Emperor protect us, not only in body, but in soul. Do not let these misguided children lead us from your light. Steel us against their perverse ways, guide us to do only what you will. We are your servants, we are your hammer, we are your light in a galaxy filled with darkness. Grant us your grace so that we may always be so."[/color]

He finished intoning his prayer, and but a couple seconds later there ship rocked slightly, and the rear hatch fell open. There in the hatchway was a man, Catachan by the looks of him. 

"Welcome to Hell, meat! Hope you're ready for some killing, cause we've got work to do!"

Abruptly the sound of solid rounds and lasfire filled the air, pattering off the hull of the Valkyrie. Patrick sighed again inwardly, figuring how typical that he meets a leader he may actually like, and he doesn't even get a damned second to introduce himself. Patrick braced himself for another helping of his atonement and exited the Valkyrie, body low, moving quickly, fluidly without much thought behind it. He threw himself against a box near the edge of the landing pad. Having some cover for himself now he looked expectantly at the man that greeted them off the ship, wondering if they were to head into the command building, or hold the helipad to cover the Valkyrie while it exfiled.