Here come the poor bloody infantry.
Now in a world where even bionic supermen in suits made from the same material as tank armour struggle to survive, there's just one word to describe men who wear camo pyjamas to war.
Not so my brave men of the Imperium, oh no.
These guys want to fight, and are armed for the task.
My little planet's a decent one you see - Hyperion IV is a mining world, and the rich ore seams mean ample raw material to actually kit my men in armour (armoured pyjamas but still!)
I used Sentinel heads to sculpt and cast up these new heads, and after much fumbling around with very noxious chemicals (shortening my life by years, no doubt) I had about 150 of the little things.
Here's the first squad:
And because the missile launcher guys are inexplicably shy in the picture above, here they are again:
And the man with a plan, the gent who pays the rent, the old fart who plays the part:
Just a few tweaks to bring across the man the Colonel really is. I made him older for starters, adding some nice long whiskers. Also added a lanyard and some more bling to his uniform.
Think about the kind of guy we've got here. He's just come back from campaign fighting aliens on some godforsaken corner of the crappy universe, come home for tea and medals... and finds Chaos people are in his house, eating his snacks and watching his TV.
I dunno how you'd be in that position, but I'd be pissed.