Chapter 2: Assignment (Patreon)

Very minor edits hath been heaped upon the prologue for a superior reading experience.

Give thine due praise for our local scribble goblin for aiding me in reviewing this stuff.

Konstantin

The halls of the Scholastica Psykana were as silent as always despite the early awakening, the Tempestus Scions assigned to watch us made sure of it by glaring down at everyone through their black visors the moment we stepped out of our dormitories.

Most of my fellow cursed mutants and witches wilted under that cold merciless gaze, broken and beaten down as they were by their ‘education’, all but three of us.

The stormtroopers didn’t react to it one way or another, whether they were genuinely indifferent or either annoyed or impressed I had no idea.

I was always shit at subtle telepathy.

As I unhurriedly walked to join the pair already waiting for me, I passed by what would at first look like a relief of a screaming man fused into the wall.

It wasn’t a relief.

Kamus, the stupid idiot, decided it would be incredibly funny if he smuggled hard amasec to a bunch of fresh Sanctionites a year ago. Two of them had to be put down, and a third had their mind broken by a daemon.

Needless to say, the Schola did not find his joke nearly as humorous, and he was buried alive as a warning to the rest of us. With a side of collective punishment for good measure, of course.

I clicked my tongue and reached the pair, a statuesque blonde young woman with bright green eyes that somehow made even the Astra Telepathica robes look good, and an empty eyed, grey haired, young man with a perpetually knowing expression on his far too weathered face.

“He has long passed, my friend.” Ezekiel said in lieu of greeting.

“He certainly took his time.” I countered.

“Too little of it I say.” Julia sniffed disdainfully like only a noble could. “Giving alcohol to the freshly awakened… The gall!”

“I personally find a bolt to the head a far more practical solution.” I greeted them both with a nod, Ezekiel of course instantly mirroring my movement like he had been waiting for it. “Such displays are a waste of time.”

“To adepts of our caliber perhaps.” Julia allows haughtily. “The rest however.” She eyes the other sanctioned psykers, trudging over towards the lectern with their heads kept low, even lower as they neared us. “They need reminders of their weakness. Constant and loud reminders. For their own good.”

The saddest part is I couldn’t even disagree. All it took was one slip.

“Enough of such dour topics. Come, we best not be late.” Ezekiel began walking after the small procession, at the same instant the stormtroopers began marching behind us. “Tell me, my friends. Have you any expectations for today?”

“Like you don’t already know.” I huffed lightly.

“Now, now.” The Gamma class Diviner chided. “We may be setting on the path of redemption for our sin of existence today but there is no reason to take the fun out of it.”

Julia’s face twists in annoyance. “Our lives are not a-“

I jab her in the side, making her shut her mouth as she glares at me.

“Fine, I will play along.” She exhales and crosses her arms, now glaring at Ezekiel’s back. “I will of course be assigned to serving Terra’s noble houses. A biomancer of my skill and pedigree should do nothing else.”

‘True, a stable Delta class would get gobbled up immediately.’ I nodded to myself and asked: “And you are certain your family’s rivals won’t see you assigned elsewhere? I hear the Emperor’s Most Holy Inquisition is always in need of healers.”

She pales briefly before quickly shaking her head. “The house of Zollern may not be the most powerful but we have deep roots.”

“What a grand way of saying absolutely nothing.” I mutter while staring at Ezekiel’s back, noting the fact he kept silent.

“Guessing you are staying here.” I prodded the diviner.

He smiled without turning back. “The Preceptor has already made the offer.”

‘Teacher’s pet.’ I shook my head with amusement.

“And what about you, dear Konstantin? What service awaits you?” The noblewoman asks as we round the corner leading up to the masterfully engraved entrance to the grand lectern.

“You said it yourself, my lady.” I mock bow my head. “I am but a blunt instrument, incapable of proper restraint. And there is only one place for those like me.”

She goes to answer but we are already in the lectern, and all of us immediately shut our mouths and take our spots at the front.

Studying in the Scholastica Psykana was like high school taken up to an eleven (or a hundred, really), you were graded on everything you did, in and out of class, and your performance in all aspects was either rewarded or punished very, very tangibly.

I only needed to get beaten half to death once to carve that truth into my mind.

Julia, Ezekiel and myself made up the elite, and our lives reflected that. Ezekiel and myself got more comfortable private rooms and a right to request personal reading material, while Julia got a whole apartment to herself, no doubt after a grand and generous donation by Lord Zollern.

The rest had to content themselves with bunks, slurry, and an absolute lack of free time.

Ultimately, if you were mature and disciplined the Schola was an almost… well I wouldn’t exactly say relaxed but close enough, existence. If you forgot about all the constant surveillance, the mental torment, the indoctrination, the convoluted vision quest like trials of faith…

I held back a sigh and exhaled.

I couldn’t get off this rock quickly enough.

The energy in the room seemed to go still as the familiar rhythmic steps of Preceptor Marcellius echoed from the other entrance.

We all stood.

The centuries old Astropath walked with a large hunch in his posture, leaning against his psychic staff for each step, and yet there was no mistaking the fact he was the most threatening person in the room.

Out of everyone in this school, he was the only one whose psychic potence outstripped mine, and that kind of power was a tangible thing.

Almost reminded me of the Sisters of Silence, only nowhere near as terrifying.

I felt my hand shudder and quickly discarded the memory.

“Sit.” The ancient man commanded and took his post. He remained standing despite the chair behind him, slowly looking over us all with his empty burned out eyes.

“None of you are ready.” He said after a long oppressive silence, and many of my lesser classmates flinched. “If it were up to me, I would keep you behind these walls until I was certain you weren’t a danger to your fellow man, and mayhap even until some wisdom finally crawled into your empty skulls, unlikely as that is.”

“But it is not up to me.” He said and the air turned even more oppressive. “Our great Imperium demands we sacrifice, and we are honored to accept this burden in the name of our glorious Emperor.”

He made another pause, his expression softening by such a tiny fraction I’d almost missed it if not for my witchsight. “Despite my protestations… You have stood when surrender would have been infinitely easier, and you have persisted in this through years of suffering. Know, that I am proud.”

He picked up an ornate data slate and flicked through it. “Klaus of Saturn.” He called and the first Aspirant and told him his fate.

The list went from weakest to strongest, so I got to listen as the rest got their assignments, most of them getting posted as astropaths of one calling or another, destined to scream into the warp for a few decades before inevitably burning their minds out.

“May we meet again.” Ezekiel spoke softly as the Preceptor reached us.

“Julia Zollern.” Marcellus called. “Assigned to the Ordo Xenos as Scholar Materium to Inquisitor Victor Vorn.” He paid no mind to how pale she became as she walked over and she accepted her assignment with a defeated nod.

She looked back at us pleadingly but all we could do was offer a few gestures of encouragement before she was shood on.

“Ezekiel of Necromunda.” The Preceptor went on. “Assigned to the Collegium of the Astra Telepathica as Scholar Arcanum.”

Ezekiel inclined his head and remained seated.

“Konstantin of Zamor.” He called and I stood, walking over to his immense ornate desk. “Assigned to the Astra Militarum as Savant Militant.” He proffered a small data slate to me. “Your orders are within.” Followed by a folded parchment sealed in wax. “As well as your credentials.”

Before I could accept it, he added. “Your military rank is probationary pending your survival of your first combat engagement.”

I took the official document and carefully deposited it to my belt pouch and started slowly going over my more immediate future on the data slate.

“I don’t suppose the Schola would be generous enough to provide me with some specialized wargear?” I allowed the slightest bit of cheek to enter my voice.

“Your implants are already expense enough.” He retorted without skipping a beat. “If you wish for superior equipment, earn it like everyone else.”

The damn things were practically mandatory for me despite me showing almost no issues with warp control. Even if I supposed having an emergency power sink was nice.

“Generous, Preceptor.” I hummed and finished my speed reading.

Join the freshly tithed Mavian 32nd Foot in their peacekeeping operations before boarding another ship to more permanently join Lord General Jeronimus Kyne’s retinue as Primary Psyker.

It also said the Lord General was currently engaged in a prolonged war against heretics on a Hive World called Simeus III to the galactic west.

“When do I depart?” I asked.

“Immediately.” He responds. “Your effects have been loaded onto the lander scheduled for pad 15. I suggest you do not tarry. Do the Schola proud, Aspirant.”

“Understood, Preceptor.” I inclined my head. “It has been an honor.”

His lips twitched slightly and just as I was about to leave the room I felt something brush against my mind.

Good luck, precocious child.

Col. Garett Fritz of the Mavian 32nd Foot

He made sure not to fidget as the Emperor damned Commissar stared holes into the side of his head and smashed down the temptation to light up a lho stick in favor of addressing his Major. “Grant, care to remind me why you made me get up this early in the morning again?”

The spinster’s face twisted but she answered dutifully. “We are to welcome a specialist temporarily assigned to us Colonel. A sanctioned psyker.”

“A damned witch?!” Garett hissed. “Why’d they hoist one of those to us?”

“Because.” The Regimental Commissar’s gravelly voice cut in; “We are going to the same destination. It is a temporary arrangement.”

“Can’t we just.” Garett made a cutting notion across his throat. “Don’t want us to get cursed by the damn warp spawn.”

“Colonel Fritz.” The Commissar spoke softly and was all the more terrifying for it with his black clothes and tall cap. “Are you suggesting we waste a tactical asset of the Imperium for your comfort?”

“Of course not!” He waved his arms and stopped. “Wait, tactical asset?”

The Commissar’s face turned blank. “I read the report to you, Colonel. Twice.”

“Ah well…” Garett caught himself. “I had other concerns at the time, yes.”

“Yes, I am certain the noble ladies of Frumentum are honored by your attention.” The Commissar gave him a dry look.

“I can’t well refuse their invitations, Commissar.” Garett shook his head. “It wouldn’t do to offend our hosts.”

Commissar Marcus glared but remained silent.

“Tell me Grant.” Colonel Garett quickly wiped the sweat from his forehead and turned to his XO. “Whats so special about this one?”

She pulled out her trusty data slate and tapped on it. “Freshly graduated Primaris Psyker, Telekine Majoris, Pyromancer Minoris, Biomancer Minoris, class Beta.”

“Beta…” Garett repeated slowly, wringing his memory for what exactly that meant.

“The most potent stable strain of the mutation.” The Commissar supplied dutifully. “A human artillery piece.” He elaborated and it finally caught on.

“Ah.” Garett voiced wisely.

Just as a pitch black lander covered in silver markings, something definitely not belonging to their transport ship, descended onto the field pad in the middle of their garrison camp, kicking up dust and startling some of the guardsmen loitering about.

The Scowl on the Commissar’s face promised pain, and quickly got the louts to form up out of self-preservation.

The ramp descended, revealing a single relatively tall and well built man leaning lightly against a tall staff with the stylized eye the psykers liked to use in one hand and a small bag in the other.

He didn’t waste time and immediately began approaching their group.

Garett observed him as he did, quickly finding out the young somewhat square faced man was in fact young despite his completely white long hair partially tied up behind his head, he wore a dull purple robe and had an old laspistol holstered on his belt, alongside an oddly ornate knife placed just next to it.

Then their eyes met, and for a split second Garett felt like he was drowning as the mutant’s attention was completely on him, a purple crackle forming pupils in his previously empty eyes before quickly disappearing and leaving behind the usual burned out pale of the cursed.

Garett felt sweat pooling on the sides of his head, and found he didn’t quite care about the Commissar’s stare anymore, lighting up his trusty lho stick and taking a deep drag.

Ah, much better…

Psyker classes follow the Greek alphabet for power classification so (From negatives in the case of blanks/pariahs to alpha plus in the case of the Emperor/Magnus etc). Relevant to this chapter are the Delta, Gamma, and Beta classes, being among the most powerful stable human psykers actively used by the imperium.

As for the formal ranks, they go Sanctionite -> Neonate -> Aspirant and then split to either the Scholar or Savant paths (the former being a less combat oriented path while the latter is for the combat psykers)

Amasec = Catch all for liquor, can vary in quality greatly

Data-slate = Tech notepad/phone commonly used in the imperium.

Lho stick = Catch all for cigars, can vary in quality greatly