[F] Confessions of a Heretic, Part I

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Please note: the following is intended for the instruction and direction of members of His Most August and Divine Imperial Majesty's Holy Inquisition. It is for your eyes only, Inquisitor. Any and all of the contents of this compilation are restricted to fully ordained and commissioned Inquisitors, and may not be disseminated in any way, shape or form to non-Inquisitiors, including members of your own Retinue.

Thought for the day: We are all that separates mankind from Salvation, and Damnation.

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My name is Ictar Egistarum, and these are my confessions.

The Imperium of Man claims many different things and concepts as foundations upon which it is built; The Emperor's Divine guiding light, the Astronomicon, the Adeptus Astartes, the Imperial Guard, the Administratum, the Imperial Navy, and so on and so forth. These are all incomplete answers, of course. The Imperium of Man is built upon and dedicated to a single concept, one driving force that has held the disparate threads of humanity together ever since Horus smashed the Great Crusade's aims asunder. This concept, is that of sacrifice.

The Emperor sacrificed Himself millenia ago to prevent his new Imperium from still-birth, and has continued that sacrifice ever since. The Imperial Guard have sacrificed, in their Trillions, to defend and protect the near infinite realms of man. So too the Adeptus Astartes, so too the Navy, so too the untold masses who slave away in Manufactorums or on Agri-Combines or any number of the unending myriad of tasks needed to maintain Mankind's tenuous mastery over this Galaxy. All of these sacrifices are directed to one end: so that in this Universe of infinite horrors, humans may live lives free of torment, hunger, war and the desperate thirst of cruel Gods. And, miraculously, those sacrifices have been successful.

For every soul fed to the war-machine, another lives peacefully, for every slave, a freeman, for every destitute factory worker an entrepreneur or artisan. The only caveat to those most blessed lives, ennobled by the sacrifice which this Imperium is built upon, is that, at any time, the Imperium may call on them to pay back the peace that so many others have bought with their own blood, and pay it forward. Laying down their own lives, or happiness, or sanity in the service of the Imperium so that others may enjoy the same tranquility. In my life, I have experienced both the reward of that sacrifice, and been lain on the altar myself.

Until my Twelth birthday, I led a nondescript existence. The son of two members of the Administratum on a comfortable enough world of mixed urban, rural and industrial dedication. I was nothing special. Nor were my parents. Then, a crusade, some ambitious Lord Militant Commander desperate to prove himself in the eyes of an uncaring Emperor and arrogant in his own righteousness sucked the sector dry of manpower and went on his merry way.

Both my parents were conscripted. I never saw them again. I assume they wrote to me, or sent me Holo-messages. I'm sure they would have seen the irony in the Administratum losing such messages, both being former clerks themselves. I also assume that one of them made the jump to the ranks of Commissioned Officer, because the Schola I was packed off to after a year of bureaucratic limbo was filled with the sons and daughters of officers and the petty nobility.

Then, it was my turn to be conscripted. I'd spent a year at the Schola. I was no brilliant student, although I had demonstrated a passion for history. Nor was I an excellent athlete, as I was still very much growing into my body and was a bit of a clumsy oaf.

The enemies of Man had not failed to notice the weakened state of the Sector, after the Fool's Crusade had, with much fanfare, lurched off into unclaimed Stars to bleed itself to death. I was at least lucky enough to receive six months' worth of training before being hurled at the front.

Of my service, all I will say is this: I survived. I wish I hadn't.

Three years passed between my conscription and the end of my service, released with much fanfare with the other survivors. Nearly all of them were younger than me, lucky enough to have only turned thirteen a few months before the relief Crusade sailed lazily out of the warp and burned the Enemy from their lairs with lance, plasma and cyclonic torpedo. I was given my medals, and sent home. To a ghost planet.

The second entry in the Confessions of the Heretic, Ictar Egistarum, is available here

The third entry in the Confessions of the Heretic, Ictar Egistarum, is available [here] (https://www.reddit.com/r/40kLore/comments/65esnk/f_confessions_of_a_heretic_part_iii/)

The fourth entry in the Confessions of the Heretic, Ictar Egistarum, is available here

The fifth entry in the Confessions of the Heretic, Ictar Egistarum, is available here