Rastor was a pitiful city, even by the standards of the Imperium. It had been the capital of a 'Civilized world' the Administratum census, although the locals had since moved their capital to a city in the southern hemisphere.. A world that had lost contact with the Imperium and sought to make a fight of it upon being rediscovered.
It was a foul place, where, bereft of the guiding light of Terra, humans and Xenos had mingled, unsanctioned techno-heresies were wrought, and even the glorious Hive Spire had been partially torn down and spread out. Temples of industry dismantled and replaced with Xenotech mockeries. It was a world heading towards damnation, until the Imperium brought cleansing fire and restored the world to its proper place.
Colonel Adrian Gerstanus of the 124th Torvum Tribunes cursed what had seen his people dragged here. The locals were well trained and equipped, with many of them wielding Xenos weaponry. While their alien masters struck from the shadows without warning, unleashing foul techno-sorcerous weapons. His guardsmen, with high-grade lasguns and full body flak armour, had been equipped to deal with a local insurrection, not a conflict like this.
The southern continent had been taken early in the fighting, but the northern one where the bulk of the alien settlers were, proved much harder to root out. Regular strikes from alien strikecraft operating from disguised airfields was making the navy refuse to move in for orbital fire support, while the enemy army remained in the field.
Outside of Rastor, the continent was held by the Xenophiles, and they were putting up a stronger fight than Adrian Gestanus had been briefed on. He examined the map laid out before him, moving markers and repositioning his forces for the entrance to the city his men were supposed to hold. The shooting down of the General staff sent to command the forces in Rastor had been just another of the dastardly enemy schemes.
A Munitorum adept carrying a message from planetary command had just arrived, fresh off the Valkyrie and insisting he couldn't wait. He wished the enemy had shot that Valkyrie down instead of the one carrying lasguns. He clutched a dataslate and offered it to the Corporal. He looked uneasy at delivering the news, which did put Adrian ill at ease. "You are being allocated sanctioned support. Please sign here." He slid the slate forward and tapped it.
There was loud cursing from across the regimental headquarters and their allied forces. Nobody liked being aided with Psykers.
"What?! I asked for a siege regiment -and- sanctioned support. I need more tha-." Adrian pinched the bridge of his nose. "Morale is bad enough without some gibbering Wyrdvanes causing trouble. "
The Munitorum Adept looked like a nobleman who'd just smelt something fouling up their estate. "No Wyrdvanes. You have been allocated a Primaris Psyker." A cold hand ran across Adrian's spine at those words. One Psyker being sent was either a mistake, or it spoke volumes of just what kind of Psyker was being sent. "Your commissar should be ready to receive him at the landing pad."
"Ah. Another bolt magnet sent to learn under grandpa's care." Adrian deadpanned. His Commissar was better than most, as he actually knew when to use the fructose bar instead of the electro-lash. But he also kept getting new Psykers assigned to the regiment due to a reputation of being good at handling their ilk. He turned to his adjutant. "Get the Commissar. He should be done by now."
The adjutant blanched. Commissar Johan Everette was in a fouler mood than usual lately. Overworked with the dual tasks of reconstructing the disciplinary structure of both the 124th and the allied regiments following several enemy ambushes, and the persecution of the planet's restoration.
In between shuffling cadet Commissars around, deputizing lesser officers, and ensuring the firing squads kept busy, across multiple regiments, his mood had become increasingly sour.
Adrian examined the dataslate, bringing up a pict of the Psyker, he sucked in breath. He looked like a piece of work. He examined the file.
You have 5 Points to spend.
Physical stature:
(You must pick one of the following three choices.)
[]Withered and pale:
Occam's body is withered and thin, no matter the rich rations and diet supplements he receives. He is stickly and weak.
Gain 2 points
Or
[]Looks normal:
Occam looks alright for a Psyker. Which means he looks lanky, if fit.
Costs 0 points.
Or
[] Looks healthy:
Occam looks healthy, about the average for an Imperial soldier.
Costs 2 points.
Sanctioning and Psykana Conditioning.
Modifications have been made to Occam's thought processes as part of his training, deeply engraining several forms of conditioning to become as natural to the psyker as breathing is to a Blunt.
You start with these two Conditionings.
Conditioning of martyrdom:
Upon losing control of his powers and feeling the Warp beginning to twist his body and/or mind, Occam will immediately attempt to commit suicide with his mercy-blade.
Conditioning of acceptance:
Occam does not feel offended or hurt if he is insulted or cursed for being a Psyker. The ability to be genuinely hurt or offended has been conditioned out of him.
[] Conditioning of control:
Occam subconsciously prays to the God Emperor whenever his thoughts are not occupied. The thirty-three prayers of mental fortitude strengthen his thoughts against subversion.
Costs 1 point
[] Conditioning of endurance:
Occam can push himself beyond physical endurance and consciously exceed the natural limits of the human body. He can continue performing his psychic powers even should he be, for instance, set on fire, or suffering grievous bodily harm.
Costs 1 point
[] Conditioning of hate:
Hate for the Xenos, the Mutant, and the Heretic has been firmly conditioned into Occam. Just seeing one of the three is enough to drive him into a fit of rage.
Gain 1 point
[] Conditioning of focused thought:
Occam can only get bored if he wants to be. Otherwise his conditioning kicks in and he tends to his memory palace, examining memories of past events and written knowledge.
Costs 1 point
Cybernetic augmentation and psionic implants:
Psychic training is dangerous and it is not unknown for one to lose body parts during their training. You received replacements for several of these. You also received several augmentations to improve your psychic ability.
Note: Losing biological limbs reduces psychic potential.
[] Cybernetic eye - Rudimentary:
Occam has lost his left eye. It has been replaced with a bulky cybernetic one.
Gain 1 point
or
[] Cybernetic eye - Functional:
Occam has lost his left eye. It has been replaced with a cybernetic one with a heads up display. It doesn't even appear cybernetic from a distance.
Costs 1 point.
or
[] Cybernetic eyes - Data buffer:
On losing his left eye, it was decided to replace the other as well. These implants allow him to record and playback everything he has seen.
Costs 2 points.
[] Cybernetic leg:
Occam's right leg has been replaced with a cybernetic one. It itches constantly and never works quite right. No matter which implant is slotted int the ports.
Gain 1 point
[] Silver Tongue:
The surface of Occam's tongue has been layered with a hexagrammic mesh of blessed silver. He can more easily recite words of a psychically resonant nature, be they xenos or chaotic.
Costs 1 point
Or
[] Ward of Chastisement:
The surface of Occam's tongue and the inside of his mouth have been tattooed with Hexagrammic sigils. Speaking the Dark Tongue of Chaos will cause him great physical pain,
Gain 1 point
[] Hexagrammic tattoos:
Your right arm has been tattooed with esoteric symbols using psi-conducting ink that aid in the conducting of raw warp attacks like lightning, fire, and telekinetic blasts.
Costs 1 point
[] Digit augmentations:
Your hands have been optimized for working your psychic craft. The tendons and muscles have been replaced with synthetics that do not degrade, while the joints have been cybernetically reconstructed to allow for micro-scale movement. This allows you to better perform small scale psychic actions
Costs 1 point
[] Blood of the devout:
A psionic, biological augmentation. The Astra Telepathica has modified your bone marrow to produce blood cells in which additional strands of DNA are produced which read out prayers to the God Emperor in Ternary code. This display of devotion reduces the oxygen capacity of the blood.
Gain 1 point
[] Bones of the devout:
Many of your bones have been replaced with suitable replacements harvested from the most pious of Terra's pilgrims, those who died upon seeing the Eternity Gate.
Costs 1 points
[] Reinforced skull:
Occam's skull split like an egg during his sanctioning. The back of his head has been replaced with metal. The attachment points itch, and people will see you, will be worried it means you often lose control of your power.
Gain 1 point
[] Heat vents:
To manage the buildup of regular heat from psychic casting, a cooling mechanism has been integrated into his skull. A specially engineering cooling liquid flows through implanted tubing along the spine and the base of the brain, before flowing past the heat vents to radiate excess heat, back down the neck into a vessel below the left shoulder.
Costs 1 point
Or
[] Heat vents - Emergency coolant shunts:
The heat management system is expanded by including an additional reservoir. During times of extreme exertion, the liquid can be vented instead of being allowed to cool, then drawing more from the reservoir.
Costs 2 points
[] Psi-Dischargers:
A ponytail of thin rigid carbon-fibre strands emerges from the back of your head. They function to relieve psychic pressure upon your brain by giving a relief valve for the energies. Also automatically flushes the brain of excess psychic energies caused by a buildup related to ambient energies pooling in the body.
Costs 1 point
[] Psychokinetic buffer:
Deeply integrated into brain tissue, this tiny piece of techno-arcana processes the Psyker's actions involving the drawing on and manipulating of Psychic power. It ensures that, should its host be incapacitated while in the process of performing their craft, an automatic incantation of nullification will be performed by the box, to safely disperse the energies the Psyker has called upon.
Costs 1 points
It has been a long and painful road to get to where you are now. You survived the Black Ship, endured your sanctioning on Terra and faced horrors that would break lesser minds, you learned the names of dark gods whose existence would condemn any other to death, fought against the whispers of daemons, and endured the countless trials of purity and purgation that your existence demands.
Your body is scarred and bears the marks of your ordeals. Thinking back to Terra makes you shudder. The memories have been put behind a partial telepathic block, so you can draw upon them for knowledge, but will not find the trauma overcome you at an inopportune time. Even so, at night you sometimes smell the incense of the trial chambers.
You are now a Primaris Psyker, Beta-Grade Telekine. A precious asset of the Imperium, now finally deployed on your own. If you survive, then greatness awaits you. Four other Beta-Grade Psykers ascended the ranks alongside you this solar year. More than the Imperium has inducted in centuries. The psychic awakening of mankind continues apace, and you are proof of it.
You've gone through the reports, read them from start to finish time and again. You frown. You'd hoped for a more glorious assignment.
This world is a wreck. You remark as you look out the Valkyrie's viewing port. A city of heretics and Xenos, nearly completely razed except for its oldest buildings. You can see remnants of the disturbing round structures. The briefings paint a dim picture. A frontier world abandoned for two centuries due to a failure of administration that accepted an alien yoke.
It had been deemed as good a location as any to test out your Psychic abilities in a warzone. A purgation operation against mostly defeated foes according to what the Astra Telepathica received of the most recent reports.
It turns out that the frontline commanders have been overstating their victories, and the enemy is far from destroyed. Instead of prosperous cities of hard-working labourers, the planet of Kleist lay in ruins, with the population herded into processing centres as the wheels of Imperial Justice sorted out those who had been tainted, and whom were innocent. Those who had polluted their hands by trading with the enemies of Mankind were finally being punished.
A psychic residue of death still lingers over the city, much of it fresh. The Munitorum is working hard to process the continuous flow of supplies and reinforcements from orbit, constructing landing zones and organizing labour details. You close your eyes and extend your thoughts, feeling the soulfires of the people in the city below. Most of it is still concentrated into processing areas managed by the Arbites, while Militarum regiments positioned around the city's edge are holding strategic points. The city's interior still flashes with lasfire and explosives, especially the buildings that show xenos contamination.
You note a landed ship that a great many soulfires are going into, but what emerges are barely sparks. You open your eyes and look out the viewport and note that its a landed Admech ship. That explains it. Many of those deemed not tainted enough to warrant immediate execution, are being sentenced to Servitude Imperpetuis, destined to labour as Servitors to clean their souls of the sin of contact with the alien. The Admech are labouring furiously to turn those of the populace deemed tainted by the Xenos into productive labourers. You nod approvingly. That will speed up reconstruction.
When the ramp drops, you look out, finding the regimental Commissar and their cadet waiting for you. The Commissar has a face of scar tissue with half his face made of reconstructive metal cybernetics. The older Commissar is experienced in supervising new Psykers from what the briefings have told you. He gives you an appropriate level of glowering.
The Cadet is younger, barely an adult with a bare beardless face staring at you. He looks equal parts terrified and hateful. His presence was not in the reports. Although going by the tattered state of his uniform, perhaps his assignment to Johan was a recent change. An orphaned Cadet perhaps?
As you step off the shuttle, Servitors whose faces still show the blue line tattoos of the local xenophiles begin attaching fuel lines and perform an inspection before the craft can take off again. The overseers and technical crews managing this operation see you, and you can immediately feel a wave of anger and disgust manifest and wash over you.
On Terra, you met a few 'Blunts', humans without psychic potential, that were not serfs of the Astra Telepathica, and those you met had treated you with a kind of fearful respect.
Saluting the Corporal. "Primaris Psyker Occam. Here to serve the 124th Torvum Tribunes"
"Psyker." The Corporal acknowledges you. "At ease. I was not expecting to receive sanctioned support. I read your dossier, but I would like to hear in your own words what you can bring to my forces."
"I am a Beta-Grade Telekine, Sir. I am here to break the ene-" You catch a glimpse of dark intentions in the crowd, an internal scream of someone trying to encourage themselves. You hold up a finger for silence and concentrate. "A moment, Sir." You extend your mind outwards, feeling the soulfire of the humans around you. They are weak and they flicker in comparison to the raging inferno that is you. You look into the crowd, glancing for the source.
Although you can't manipulate objects with precision, you can still touch and feel the objects around you. You search for anything out of the ordinary. Precious metal rings on fingers. Clothes of synthetic fibre. Boots of real leather. Squishy flesh. You recognize each of the materials, and the metals that they touch. It is tempting to begin to grasp for and manipulate the objects around you. Everyone and everything around you is just something that you can manipulate at will.
"Control yourself!" The Cadet commissar yells, pulling you from your focus. He has pulled out his las pistol and aimed it at you, gesturing for the hoarfrost gathering around your feet. You stare incredulously at him. Surfaces around an active Psyker freezing is normal, just how new is this cadet?
In an instant, the elderly commissar disarms the cadet in a single fluid motion and slaps him to the floor. "It is a miracle your last tutor didn't shoot you, you fool. If you shoot each Psyker that makes reality take a recaff break, we'd burn through them like a Cadian brothel goes throu-"
You nod in approval at the display of discipline and blush at the creativity of the analogy. You refocus your efforts in the direction the thought came from, you keep your hand ready. You prepare telekinetic energy, sending it flowing into your staff.
"Down with tyranny!" A woman yells, throwing open her jacket and revealing the rows of xenos explosives strapped to her. She throws herself under a fuel tank as you're still gathering your power.
You jump forward, raising your force staff and slamming it into the ground, throwing up a Kine Shield to protect yourself, the Colonel, and the Commissars.
The explosion goes off and fire rushes over you.
Before the fire has faded, the first of the enemy dreadnoughts begins landing, slamming into the ground.
The Tau and their Gue'Vesa allies on the surface of Kleist have not been defeated yet. Occam's first deployment begins.
Happy early New Years Eve to you people (Posting from the Netherlands). This post is my gift to you all.
It is time to decide just what kind of augmentations you want for Occam to have. No special weapons. You'll earn those. Don't worry about the length of the conflict. This is just a brief intro.
24 hour Moratorium on voting because of New Years Eve. Have a fun time!
