Standing in neat rows the cadets looked expectantly at the podium before them. A giant of a man clad in ornate power armour looked back at them silently. His iron gaze passed over each of the three hundred or so youths in the great hall, appraising them more keenly than the machine had before. After a pause he set his jaw and grunted in what may have been satisfaction.
“Cadets,” he began, the gravelly bark of his voice echoing off cold steel walls, “today you are joined to a new destiny. Where before you were alone and blind in the galaxy now you see its true shape and are set to become part of the greatest power within it.”
Jula saw Nothara step up beside the speaker, a word flashing unbidden into her mind.
Psyker.
Blinking it away she watched as the man, Captain Cleves, droned on about duty and honour and becoming an Astartes. She knew all that he was saying and itched to start her training, she would be faithful and she had no fear of the trials as she knew she would not fail.
Flicking her eyes to Nothara again a dull ache started in the back of her head. She wears an Aegis Hood, a crystalline device that helps channel psychic energy, and carries a staff that amplifies her powers. Her rank is Lore Keeper, a powerful warrior and well studied scholar, but not the highest rank. Librarians are noted by their yellow armour plates – they keep each company’s records and analyse...
Stifling the urge to rub her temples she resorted to grimacing instead. The sudden, massive, influx of knowledge was giving her headaches, as it was all the others. Marco had been in agony when he had woken, barely able to stand. Nadia had taken it the best, but she always was a bookworm.
Cleaves finished his introduction and Nothara took the stage, quickly informing the cadets of their unit breakdowns and where to report for transport to the training camps. Moving through the suddenly unruly mob Jula found Marco and Nadia, apparently heading to the same rally point.
“Hey guys,” Jula called out, “looks like we’re still together. Seen Vitor?”
“Miss him?” Nadia grinned. “He should be with us, it looks like it’s based on recruitment time.”
Looking around Jula saw the Southrons from the Hall of Victors were with them, along with a number of others she didn’t recognise from any of the ordeals they had been through so far.
“Looks like twenty each,” Marco said, looking at each group as they formed in the hall. Ten numbered posts stood at regular intervals around the hall, and the cadets clustered close to their assigned area. Vitor was busy forcing his way through the crowd, and not having much success.
“Number three – a good sign,” said one of the unknowns as he patted the post, smiling. He was dark skinned, his hair black and tightly cropped save a braided lock coming from each temple.
“How do you figure that?” Jula asked him.
“I am the third son of my father,” the boy said, putting his palm over his heart, “and three generations have passed since my family have been chose to serve.”
“If you say so,” she shrugged, “though it is impressive to have the history you do.”
“Being called to serve is indeed an honour, we are all chosen of the Emperor. But how rude of me,” he extended his hand, “I am Adro Sztaba.”
“Jula West,” she took his hand and shook it. “This is Marco Angosten, Nadia Faulks, and Vitor Alda.”
“You four are already acquainted?”
“We come from the same village,” Vitor answered brusquely, not looking Sztaba in the eye.
Jula saw Vitor glance at her then look away quickly, his arms folded.
“Yes,” she continued, “we all grew up together.”
“Ah, how fortunate a village that must be. I was the only one of mine to win the games this year.”
“Games?”
“Yes, the games.”
An awkward moment passed where Sztaba looked at her confused for not knowing what he meant, and Jula looked at him confused about what he could possibly mean.
“We don’t have any games or the like where we are from,” Nadia interjected, “we are chosen by the Knights...” she pause and furrowed her brow, carefully forming the words, “by the Astartes and each village has a list posted of who has been selected.”
Sztaba looked shocked, his eyes widening at the strangeness of the concept to him.
“That is most unusual, in my village we send the best and strongest to compete at the games – running, archery, fighting... the winners are sent to be tested and hopefully found worthy.”
“Well there you go,” Marco clapped his hands together, “makes the trek we had seem rather unimpressive really.”
Jula chuckled with the others, but she felt a sting of jealousy at the thought that others had had harder ordeals than she.
“I don’t know Marco, we got some running and fighting in,” Nadia joked, eying Jula’s still discoloured lip.
“Oh, be quiet,” Jula scowled, folding her arms in annoyance. “When’re we moving out anyways?”
-
The boat ride had been short, the metal vessel cutting through the roiling sea with ease. It had taken them east, to the horizon, where a large island loomed ahead of them. Tall and craggy, covered in thick green jungle, it looked about as inhospitable a place as could be. The cadets were told this was to be their home for the next four years. They would be trained, moulded, into specimens worthy of the real tests. Failure here would mean assignment to other areas of the Chapter – artificers, techs and other support staff. Only the best would go through to the trials of implantation.
Jula glared at the forbidding island and stared its dark cliffs down. They would not break her, she wouldn’t be some lowly bondswoman when the prize of joining the ranks of the Astartes was in her sight. A shudder ran down her spine as she realised she’d thought Astartes, not Knight. It seemed almost childish now to think of the mighty warriors in such limited terms, but Jula still found some strange comfort in the thought.
Marco passed the journey talking with one of their platoon, a young man named Junek from the Hive of Forbett III – an Ecclesiarch. It sickened her that Marco would spend his time with someone involved in worshiping Him as a God. Apparently it was the rule of law on almost every world in the Imperium. Prism was only spared the fate of mindless servitude to a lie by its isolation, and the protection of the Chapter. They held the Truth from when the Emperor walked as a man, the first Chapter Captain even fought with Him on Earth. Jula frowned as she watched the two boys, her friend far too interested in anything the off-worlder could be saying. She made a mental note to ask him about it later.
Vitor kept to himself, and seemed irritated about something. When Jula asked him about it he simply grunted that he didn’t feel much like talking. That he was tired. Nadia was talking to Sztaba and Marcel. That only left Cable and Petr or the Southrons as people she knew. Jula decided to watch the waves instead.
Landing at a dull grey pier the ship disgorged its human cargo with the precision of a thousand runs. Nadia had overheard there were two hundred and eighty cadets aboard, in seven platoons. That the few Astartes and bondsmen moved them so easily spoke not only of their skill but their power.
Even the servants seemed more than just mortals, bigger and radiating a fraction of the magnificence of the armoured giants. There was no shame in serving – the bondsmen filled vital roles and freed the Astartes to tend to theirs – but it was not enough for Jula. She needed to succeed, or die trying.
Climbing the steep hill on a broad cement road the cadets sagged under the weight of their newly issued equipment – clothes, utensils, tools and more – and the heat. The Southrons were faring the worst by the looks of things, though Jula could feel sweat running down her back and dripping from her chin. Cresting the rise a massive urban expanse was laid out before them, hidden in the fold of a valley. Clusters of buildings filled the flat, grassy plain.
Moving down into the cooler air of the basin they passed by groups of older Cadets. They eyed the new arrivals with a sense of contempt, as if they were more worthy for having survived trials the younger had not even attempted. Jula glared back spitefully.
Separated into their platoons the cadets were each lead by a trio of Astartes to a their barrack blocks. Flat and rectangular, the word ‘functional’ came to mind when looking at them. There were nine in total, arrayed in on three sides of a central parade ground. The fourth side had what were likely training halls and the like.
MovingiInside, a wave of cool air greeted them and the hard floor drained the heat from their feet. Passing through a second doorway, they were given a chit as a bondsman monotonously read off the numbers engraved on each. Jula was ‘16’. The meaning became clear when they saw their accommodations.
The barracks house was a single large room, twenty bunks on each side marked with a number. Jula and Nadia were sharing a bunk down the far end, with Nadia up top. Vitor was to her left with one of the Southrons, and Marco was opposite her with someone she didn’t recognise. Sztaba was all the way on the other side of the hall, next to Cable. She was happy to be away from Cable, but having Sztaba nearby would have been good too.
As the cadets started unpacking and examining their surrounds, the buzz of conversation filled the air.
“Bunkmates then? Good stuff” Nadia smiled. Her nervousness was dissipating, replaced with an energy that was out of place for her, though Jula certainly enjoyed seeing her friend doing well.
“Glad I got you,” Jula nodded. “Though it would have been easier if I was up top.”
“I’m not that much shorter than you. Besides, I’ll grow into it.”
“True.”
The beds did look excessively large, but if they were to be spending the next four years here they’d be needing room to grow. Looking under the upper mattress’ frame Jula saw a series of faint scratches – names and dates of the previous occupants. Wondering if they had made it she felt an eerie presence, like they were still here, watching over her.
“Hey.”
Jumping, she smacked her head against the metal frame with a clang.
“Ow, dammit,” Jula cursed. Clutching her scalp, she turned to see an aghast looking Vitor standing behind her.
“I’m so sorry, I thought you knew I was there.” He reached out his hand to her. “Are you ok?” She pulled back with a wince. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright, nothing worse than what I’ve had lately.”
“Yeah.”
“So you’re feeling better then?” The words came out more aggressive than she’d intended.
“Yeah, um, sorry about before.” He scratched at his arm, looking away again.
“Waves make you feel sick?”
He sagged with relief. “Yeah, that was it.”
“Well, I guess none of us want to admit to feeling sick now.” Pulling her hand from her head she gave him a playful slap on his shoulder. “Forget about it, ok?”
“Sure thing, Jula.”
“When do you think we’re going to get started?”
L to R: Faulks, West, Alda, Sztaba. No Marco? Something sinister or he didn't fit in the composition? You'll have to wait and see!
Jula West, rocking a suit of Mk3. I await my Forge Word order with great anticipation. While I like my current Captain West mini, she doesn't quite fit with the aesthtic the army has now (too fancy). So I'll be making a new one with the Forge World kits.
Vitor Alda, looking pleased with himself. Also note how I ballsed up his right shoulder pad. Whoops.
Nadia Faulks. So yeah, this is basically some spoilers for who makes it through training (for the three of you who actually read the series), but you could probably guess who was going to anyway.
Adro Sztaba. He's more sketchy as I originally wasn't happy with how I started his armour, but then I decided I couldn't be bothered re-tracing his face (which I liked) so there you go. He's a bit disproportional, but oh well - guess he just gets an XL helmet or something.
Marco Angosten. Despite being a more central character he goes down the bottom because he suffers from the same problems as Sztaba, and this is the third version already.
Cowabunger! Totaly tubular! Wiggity wiggity! Reaganomics!
I've also given her a singlet and converted her hand grenade into a water bottle. The holster for her now non-existent pistol has been cut down and I'll be adding some wires to her ears as if it is a MP3 playr case or somesuch. Her thong was also changed to simply be high underwear (it seemed like it would be uncomfortable). She also got some hair at the back.
