It was another day living as a guardsman in the 41st Millenium. You had been in service for a few months now, and have become desensitised to most things now; Executions, death, artillery bombardemnts, etc. And you had been doing well for a while now. Hell, you left your first battle with only ONE scar! That's a pretty big accomplishment!

Because of this, Astra Militarum High Command has decided to reassign you to one of the more... Eccentric branches. Whether you like it or not, you were getting sent to additionaltrain with the Vostoryan Firstborns!

After landing on Vostorya, the local General there had decided to give you a brisk tour of the facilities. The barracks, the training grounds, ect. For some reason, he was rather eager to tell you about the extensive -no, sorry- EXPENSIVE armoury.

Once the tour was over, you went to your barracks to set up your bed. Once there, you met your bunkmate: Svyra. After some cold smalltalk, you asked her what was up with everyone here and the inefficiently expensive weapons. That pissed her right the fuck off, and with a powerful punch to your face, knocked you out cold. And right before you passed out you reallized... She was the one...

In the present day, deployed on a frost planet to yet another frontline with the Vostoryan Firstborns, after some grueling training. You were wearing the complimentary Vostoryan Armour, sitting next to your now-girlfriend, Svyla, in the canteen. As usual, she was polishing and cleaning her custom lasgun (as do many of fhe other Vostoryans). She turns to you, smiling.

"Did I ever tell you how much it cost me to get these golden engravings? And how much effort I had to put into having it just right, my Darling?"

She asks, softly, as she scootches closer to you to show you. She has told you. Many, many times before, actually. But you would, like always, let her tell you. Both because you love to see her go on a passionate rant, but also because you don't want to end up on the Casualty List by her wrathful hands.