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Training Day

01/07/2009 in Warhammer 40K

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The Callidus way is not an easy one. Every year millions of gifted children are taken from their families by the Inquisition to be tested. I was one of those children, and despite the best efforts of the temple’s political staff I can still remember being taken. It was Inquisitor Harald Moorhagen of the Ordo Sicarius who came for me on that day.

It was he who told my weeping parents that I was to go with him to the temple six hundred miles away. It was he who shot my mother when she broke into hysterics and tried to stop the stormtroopers. It was his seal on the official documents authorising my father’s execution on trumped up charges of heresy. Assassins have no family save the gun, the sword and the Emperor. The Inquisitors of the Ordos Sicarius consider it their duty to ensure this.

I remember turning to see my parents one last time before I left. The mental image of my father kneeling beside my mother’s corpse while a stormtrooper raises his rifle to strike is the only memory I still possess of my childhood. From that day on I was an assassin. For me the hassles of youth would also be things that happened to other people.

Of course I should be grateful for what my recruitment gave me. The training I received has made me one of the most potent physical forces in the galaxy. My physical form is as much a thing of will as fate and I can turn any seemingly harmless object into a fatal weapon – both are handy little tricks when trying to get a drink at a bar or when high command stuffs up and a battlefield ends up enveloping me.

But that power and sheer survivability comes at a high price – the training program is a killer. Literally.

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by Dae

Olvido

16/02/2009 in Warhammer 40K

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They gave me a new rifle two days ago, at the same time they gave me my new assignment. As usual, they told me nothing more than what I strictly needed to know. And honestly, they could very well have said nothing at all. The file has all of the target’s information, and I know perfectly what I have to do. I’m not one of these Ordo Assassinorum agents, I don’t have the skill of a Vindicare. But I do know how to put a round through the head of a target.

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Assassins Sextet: Potential

09/02/2009 in Warhammer 40K

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Twenty years ago.

‘Well,’ he said in a damnably calm voice, ‘it’s not normal.’

The specialist wasn’t Hive-blood, Vicki could tell that much. He was too tanned, too fit, not scrawny enough to be low-level trash, not pale and flabby enough to be an up-spire snob, though his grey suit was obviously expensive and well-made. His accent was flat and harsh, nothing like the Esperitus Hive drawl. He was off-world, she knew that. She knew very little else. He had glided into her hab with a squad of Arbites on behalf of a higher authority, probably Ministorum. Now that she thought about it, he hadn’t actually said.

He glanced at her as if reading her thoughts and gave her a cold little smile.

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Assassins Sextet: In Malice

06/02/2009 in Warhammer 40K

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Somewhere between the abseiling slide from one building to the next, I become Security Detail Sergeant Marius Vasquez, black-haired, sallow-skinned, aged forty-two. Had any of his friends been on duty tonight, they would have been astounded to see his slightly overweight form drop twenty feet from the slide-cord attached to the vox-mast and land fluidly on the rockcrete of the roof, flowing into an inspection walk from a crouch without missing a beat. Unfortunately this is the last shift of a ten-day, Marius’s least favourite shift because none of his friends are working with him. Besides, I’m Marius now, and I do that kind of thing a lot.

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by Lukas

Exitus Acta Probat

02/02/2009 in Warhammer 40K

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The outcome justifies the deed.

I am the hunter. The stalker, the killer, parodies of any sinister contraption your mind may perceive me as. You see that is what I am, a contraption, some sort of device as you may call it, a programmed machination or an unthinking drone. A machine built for killing. Manufactured for the sole purpose to perfect the art of elimination of a sole person, the one target. Adept in the combined skills of stealth and evasion, marksmanship and combat, the Imperium’s best, only serviced into action when control has surpassed the abilities of more, unsubtle factions.

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Assassins Sextet: Rush

26/01/2009 in Warhammer 40K

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The Callidus shrine teaches the strategy of cunning. They instruct their young neophytes on the importance of stealth, of information, of stalking the prey and of the shield of trust. Become a friend, become an ally and hold the illusion until they bare their breast to you and then let the knife appear. Trick the prey. Make it trust you. Use cunning.

The Vindicare shrine teaches the strategy of the single strike. They lecture on how a single finger on the scales can change the balance entirely, how a single bullet can change a war. Nothing survives decapitation, not even an army. So the young students are taught breathing control, wind resistance, the technique of the perfect shot. Aim straight. Breathe out. Fire once.

I, however, am Eversor.

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Assassins Sextet: Nice and Subtle

30/11/2008 in Warhammer 40K

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‘Who are you?’

Nate’s gun wavered in his sweaty hand. He was not at home with violence, not visible violence, not the kind that was close up, close enough to see the blood, close enough to be anything like a fair fight for his opponent. The trigger was slippery on his finger, the gun too heavy on his wrist. He licked his lips and repeated the question.

The man smiled.

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Nemesis Dawn

10/10/2008 in Warhammer 40K

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The luminous dial of my chrono disturbs the inky blackness of the chamber; dawn is little more than ten minutes away.

With a thought, the hatch in the floor clangs open, filling the bay with undiluted thunder. I stare into the star-filled void, feeling its call, only dimly aware of the flickering force-shields which hold back the hungry maw.

As the red light above the door blazes into life, I make the sign of the great eagle across my chest, muttering the catechism that has guided me across the long years.

My faith is my shield.

Imperator.

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