Enlistment
Women belong in the kitchen, or if they are especially skilled, the factory floor. Their weak constitution makes them singularly unsuited to combat.
Such is the official sentiment of the Techtriarchs who rule Vostroya, where you grew up. It is your considered opinion that this is groxshit.
After all, put a pair of trousers on, walk around like an ape with a superiority complex and a slouch, shave all your hair off, and really, who's to say you're not a man? Certainly not the Medicae who inspects new recruits to the regiment, that's for damn sure. The man barely squinted at you before waving you through.
Getting into the regiment might be the easy part, but you've done it. That's not nothing.
Who are you, though?
[ ] The daughter of a lineworker in a factory, but more importantly, your heart was stolen by a soldier, Private Grigory Chenkov, and he left you with one half of a necklace. It's terribly important that you track him down, for it would simply break your heart if he were to die whilst you were so far away!
[ ] Firstborn daughter of minor spire nobility, you have tired of idling in your apartments - and you have heard from your father's maid that he plans to marry you off to awful cousin Vladimir. The guard must be better than that. It must.
[ ] You run a tavern with your mother and your elder brother has been drafted for the Firstborn. He's a sweet boy, and you must find him, before he dies. How hard can it be, to find one boy in all the Galaxy? God-Emperor but you hope you can find him.
[ ] An orphan from the forges, you and your sweetheart have both escaped the Mechanicum Workhouse, and the Guard is the only place the Enginseer cannot follow you. She's relying on you to keep her safe.
[ ] Your family have served the Vostroyan Firstborn as Chiurgeons for generations, and your parents weren't going to let the small matter of only having daughters stop that tradition. The whole family, whole world, whole imperium was tradition all the way down.
The Vostroyan 12th was the regiment on Vostroya at the time you joined up, and the sergeant major accepted his new recruits if not precisely with joy, then at least a grim determination that you would not disgrace the regiment.
Basic training in the shattered and abandoned ruins of Hive Abritus is brutal. The temperature never rises above freezing, and the winds that whistle through the Hive cut through your greatcoat as though it was not even there. You lose track of time there, running drills until you drop, then pulling yourself up once more to drill further, sleeping fitfully, hunched against a half-collapsed wall, taking what comfort you can in the cold rations you are able to force down in your brief downtime.
Eventually, however, the stone faced veterans of the regiment grunt with what could be considered approval, and you receive your lasgun and sabre, in readiness to battle in the Emperor's name, as the Vostroyan Firstborn have long been charged to do.
Where exactly will you battle in his name?
[ ] The Shrine-World of St Danielle's Flint, where Greenskins are on the brink of overwhelming the Frateris Militia. Her holy weapon cannot be allowed to fall into their filthy Ork hands!
[ ] The Fortress-World of Borgova. You have not been told who you will fight, but the troopship stinks of incense, and preachers scream prayers through the voxcasters.
[ ] Zlorenia, a Hive World in the Eastern Fringe. They say a xeno empire has set their sights on it, and it cannot fall. Vostroya's finest will not allow it.
[ ] Tsort, an agri-world with disturbing rumours of skeletal warriors marching out of the oceans.
AN: We'll see where this goes. Based in 40k, obviously. Vostroyan Firstborn quest!
