You couldn't help it. They were absolutely beautiful. Literally hand selected by primarchs and they had their genes reconstructed to be perfect in everyway.

The rest of the Kriegsmarines chatted away. Gasmasks and helmets are sitting about. One of them nudged you.

"Go talk to them. I heard that their really into Kriegers."

The rest of the group laughed. Sisters of Battle paid no attention to any less than a Spacemarine.

But you felt bold. You felt stupid. This might just work if you play your cards right.

They stopped talking and looked down at you. Any confidence and boldness you had was instantly disintegrated as you stared at them, eyes wide behind the gas mask.

One of them leaned down towards you. They were about 6'9-6'10. They had a solid six inches on you.

"Are you lost, Kriegsmarine?"

She stood back up, taking in your silence.

"What is your name, soldier."