[i]Treyman's blade collapsed back into its saber hilt as he placed it on his belt, grabbing the biggest of three rifles from his back. It was box-like, large and grey, with a winged skull on either side and a magazine of explosive ordinance waiting inside. He brought the stock to his shoulder and took aim, ripping through Chargers and the like with each shot, firing along their front lines as he slowly but surely regressed and moved back with the others. The gun was his crowd control Bolter, a gift from friends of old. "Sig would be proud," Treyman muttered beneath his breath, following up with that quote after each shot. [/i]