Here's a entry given to me by Nick for his character - straight out of the blue! Nick obviously plays our resident pskyer, using the Dark Heresy rules for his character, rather than the Rogue Trader rules. It's been interesting, to say the least, to see how they balance out and/or stack up.
Without further ado, here is Rook, in his own words.
+ + + + Decrypting………..Decryption complete + + + +
Classification: Personal Log
Location: New Holocene Colony, Planet Vedic, Koronus Expanse
For reasons I shall explain, my memory of my past is still incomplete. Perhaps my spelling it out on this data slate will help me to recall more.
As near as I am able to determine, I am between forty and fifty standard Terran years of age. I was born aboard a transport ship, (likely while it traveled the warp) to parents I have no recollection of. I survived a childhood on my own in the massive hive city on Firos Prime. Luckily for me, my telepathic talents developed at a very early age. Whenever I was desperate enough, I found I could read the minds of those around me, and even control them to a degree. Upon reaching puberty, I developed pyrokinetic powers as well. I became a Wyrd – an untrained, outlaw psyker, and my talents helped me to survive.
I joined an underhive gang. The Imperium’s laws regarding the sanctioning of psykers meant little to most of the underhive, and my powers gave us an edge. They called me the Rookie. The name stuck even once I became one of the senior members of the gang. Through the gang that became my family, I thrived. Perhaps we did too well. Due in no small part to my now fully developed powers, we expanded greatly and came to control the majority of the underhive. Our influence began to encroach upon the industry of the city above. Eventually, the Arbites took notice, and chose to intervene. They stormed the underhive in force, with an entire infantry regiment of Mordian Iron Guard to support them. They slaughtered us, killing everyone even remotely involved in our affairs. I alone was spared, as psychic fodder for the Black Ships.
Years must have passed before I finally reached Holy Terra. It is a period I prefer not to reflect upon. The Scholastica Psykana found me to be untainted by the warp, but I suppose they did not like my attitude. I can’t imagine why. They blocked most of my memories and implanted fabricated ones more suitable to their needs. I still don’t know what else they did to me in that time, or why every square centimeter of my skin is covered in scars.
I became a sanctioned psyker, and a fanatical devotee of the Holy Inquisition. I spent another two decades in service to the Ordo Hereticus. During that time I committed untold atrocities against citizens of the Imperium, all in the name of rooting out the heretics that hide among them. With my ability to read minds as easily as most read the words on a page, I was an extremely useful tool to the Inquisition. However, over time, my mental conditioning began to erode. After all, I was a telepath, and even the Scholastica Psykana is not infallible. When I finally broke through the blocks on my true identity, my faith in the Emperor and his Holy Inquisition was shattered.
I fled as far as I could go. If I am lucky, the Ordo Hereticus thinks I am dead. Now I find myself out beyond the edge of the Imperium of Man, in service to a planetary explorer named Ishi, and through her, the Holocene Dynasty. My best chance lies in remaining with this Rogue Trader’s crew, though it seems like it will be only a matter of time until he gets us all killed – or gets the rest of us killed, I should say. My memory is still a mess, but whatever happens, I will never go back. I will never again allow myself to be used to harm innocents in the Emperor’s name.
+ + + + End Transmission + + + +