[i][b]Bracheous hadn't been the happiest man since arriving. The white/red armoured figure was still on a damn patrol around the Imperium camp's perimeter, which he hadn't rightly disliked in all actuality: I gave him a moment away from all the shit of the base, all the noise. The engine to his assault bike roared proudly as the vehicle moved through the halls. He knew the base was in an open stretch, but damn near anything could be in the halls. And for that reason, the Crimson Scar had his Bolter Pistol in his right hand as he steered the vehicle with his left. He drove aimlessly around the ship's inner workings for what seemed like hours, but hell, that couldn't even deter him. So after some point he got... Bored you could say, and he started slowly moving farther beyond the halls he was already in. With each hall he expanded, there was always something: A Heretic, a stray Tyranid, whatever. And so he fought and he fought well, slaying many a enemy. And eventually, he made way back to the regular halls he roamed, back on the perimeters edge. [/b][/i] ((Open, short post))