Baretz had arrived at the base quite early, as always, on his new Sentinel, a few lucky stock investments had helped him obtain money rather quickly in his short stent at the army, and he now was in the gym.  He wore black mesh shorts and a plain gray t-shirt over his broad shoulders and chest, and his arms were letting ferocious blows out on his sand filled sparring partner. 

The expression 'letting out aggression' seemed to come into play, but his aggression came from a bottomless well inside him, never to empty, and never to be content.  His fuel was all negative emotions.  Resentment for life and everything that was in it, really.  His dark hazel eyes were wide, and his anger made the adrenaline flow, so even after his five mile daily run, weight routine, and streches, he had the energy to pound on this bag for hours on end.  He had learned young how to force every ounce of potential from his muscles, until he was lucky if he could move afterward, and now he exploited it regularly, most had to call in before they gave out, but he was relentless, able to take himself beyond the limits of exertion, and only be in pain until the lactic acid finally circulated out of his body, and then after an hour or two of rest, he'd be right back at it.  He had little to do around the base, and it had been some time since his last R&R day, so he could only suffice with spending his time here. 

His squad members still though of him the overly enthusiastic greeny, but he really didn't hate that.  Whatever they wanted to think of him as was fine with him, it was probably better than the truth, in any case.