Selected entries from the journal of a Tech Priest Medicae:

4834179.M41
Reported for duty aboard Heretic's Bane, a Dauntless-class light-cruiser.  Received duty orders to the medicae facilities.  Shown to my quarters, a small room filled with triple bunk beds shared with other Tech Priests.

The other Tech Priests here seem to be standoffish, but the rest of the crew is like a family, and very friendly.  The Heretic's Bane was a relatively new ship, and while it had done some patrols in the Calixis sector it hadn't seen any real combat.

I inspected the medicae facilities and they seem to be top of the line, as is what I could see from the rest of the ship.
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4848179.M41
Today we left port, to patrol in the Calixis sector.  The Bane's mission is to interdict any non-Imperial traffic.  The other Tech Priests remain distant, but it makes sense as most of them are assigned to the engine rooms or other places where they have little or no contact with the other crew.  I spend my work shift in the medicae facilities, which have gone virtually unused since I've arrived.
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4889179.M41
Today I was ordered to requisition a weapon from ship's stores, as combat readiness drills would begin in 64 hours.  I met a requisition clerk who was rather nice.  Her name is Atella Tybalt.  She gave me a much better weapon than I probably should have gotten.  We have made arrangements to meet after our duty shifts were over.
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4925179.M41
I had a lot of fun with Atella.  She sees past my exterior, past what the Mechanicus has done to me, and into my inner being.  We spent all of the free shift talking to each other, about ourselves, places we've been, and things we've done.

I started practicing with my new weapon.  It's a Vanaheim Assault Shotgun, modified with extra magazines.  It was similar enough to other solid-projectile weapons that I only needed one practice session to understand how to use it.
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4940179.M41
Heretic's Bane has now arrived to her duty area.  Combat readiness drills have increased and everyone is ordered to keep their weapon with them at all times.  I have received a secondary assignment, Boarding Container #18.  Atella gave me some extra ammunition so I would be prepared.
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4952179.M41
Today the Heretic's Bane destroyed a Tau vessel that had been somehow separated from the rest of its group.  It was apparently a non-event, as the only reason I found out was a gun crew member needed treatment for a broken foot, caused by getting in the way of the gun's loading machinery.
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4968179.M41
I have now realized I spend more time with Atella than I do in my quarters.  I enjoy the time I spend with her, listening to hymns on the radio and watching the vidcaster.  Sometimes she brings me another vial of Sacred Machine Oil.

I treasure my friendship with Atella more than any other crew member.
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4023180.M41
The Heretic's Bane rendezvoused with a troop carrier 72 hours ago, taking on five companies of Imperial Guardsmen, three more companies than we had room for. Many of them are wounded, and I was very busy in the infirmiry.  Some of them suffered terrible wounds.  Burns, from both flame and energy weapons, predominated, but there were several troopers that suffered from shrapnel and bullet damage.  In the end we treated 87 soldiers for burns, removed 8.2kg of foreign materials, set 19 broken bones and amputated 6 limbs.

These soldiers had been through hell, and my heart went out to them.  I would have wept, if I had eyes.
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4033180.M41
I have no eyes, and I must weep.

The crew was called to battle stations 40 hours ago. I rushed to mine, Boarding Container #18.  Aside from the crew to operate it, I was the only one from the Heretic's Bane there, but it was filled with two regiments of the guardsmen we'd picked up several shifts ago.
Someone made a mistake, this container wasn't supposed to be launched first, it was supposed to be a support crew.  Before I could get to the pilots and ask them about the mix up, the container was sealed and launched.

For the first time on the Heretic's Bane, I was scared.  We were rushing into battle to an unknown enemy.  We could have been shot down before we got there.  We could have been... The variables nearly overwhelmed my mind.

Suddenly with a loud CLANG we impacted the enemy vessel.  I heard the low whirr of the electromagnets starting, and then the throaty rumble as the breaching drill was activated.  Before long, there was a hole ready for us to go through.  The guardsmen and the unknown enemy exchanged fire through it, and then they rushed through to secure the area.

I have no eyes, but I must weep.

It was a slaughter, but the guardsmen secured the immediate area.  I started treating their wounded, doing triage and trying to save those who could be saved, and eased the passing of those that couldn't.  As I moved along them, I found a corpse of their enemy.  OUR enemy.

I have no eyes, but I must weep.

Our enemy was Chaos.  This was a Traitor Guard ship.  These soldiers, their bodies twisted by the powers of Chaos.  How they must have suffered, death must have been a release for them.  Even living, they were beyond the help of even the most advanced medicae.

I have no eyes, but I must weep.

I made sure my shotgun was loaded, and then I joined the guardsmen.  According to their officer, our mission was the engine room.  We were to disable the engines and then get off the ship.

The route was short, but the fight was brutal.  Twisted, deformed men cursing us even as we released them from their pain.  I somehow found myself at front.  Blast after blast, I gave pain instead of mercy, death instead of healing.  I took a wound somehow but I didn't feel it right away.  When we reached the engine room, we were down to one company of guardsmen, and most of them were wounded, some badly.

I have no eyes, but I must weep.

The guardsmen planted bombs on the engines and promethium tanks.  We rushed back out to the boarding container, the guardsmen gathering their fallen comrades as we returned.  The pilots wasted no time in sealing the container and disengaging the magnets.  There was a dull roar as they activated the main rockets to take us back to the Heretic's Bane.

One of the guardsmen activated the remote detonator.  Immediately there was a large gout of flame from the Chaos ship, and all the lights went out.  I started tending to the wounded guardsmen, who already had been through hell, and then went through it again.  My heart went out to them, now that I know some of what they do.

I have no eyes, but I must weep.
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4038180.M41
I still haven't slept yet.  Upon our return we were quarantined, to make sure none of us had become corrupted by Chaos.  The infirmary is full, and I am still busy trying to help the wounded and save those that can be saved.
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4045180.M41
Most of the worst cases have been dealt with.  Six guardsmen have been found to be tainted by Chaos, and were summarily executed.  I finally had time to treat my own wound.

I miss Atella.  When they pushed in the supplies I found another vial of Sacred Machine Oil.  I know she misses me as well.

All five guardsmen companies were devastated.  They reformed into three complete companies.  Some of them are telling stories about me, about how I killed more heretics than any of them.  In their stories they call me Doctor Death, but I do not care for that title.
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4046180.M41
I finally was able to get some rest.
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4072180.M41
They ended the quarantine, satisfied that the taint hadn't spread to any more of us.  I went to Atella and just held her for hours.  She asked me what happened during the attack but I don't think I can ever say out loud what I did, how I hurt instead of healed, nor can I describe how Chaos twists those to someone that's never seen it.

She tells me how the guardsmen say I'm a hero, that I saved them all, but when I think on it all I see are the broken, twisted bodies, killed by my hand.  How do I tell her I'm not a hero, but a killer?

I have no eyes, but I must weep.
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4079180.M41
One of the other Tech Priests struck me today.  He claims I'm getting too attached to a meatbag, and that I'm asking for a chem geld.  I think he's just jealous.

Today a guardsman died as a result of his wounds.  He was 92 years old according to his dog tag.
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4086180.M41 81 days after the first entry.M41
Atella keeps asking me about the battle.  I finally tried to tell her, but somehow my vox caster put out a loud feedback screech instead, and I couldn't talk for a few minutes while it reset.  That's the first time that's happened, and it bothers me.

Today the last of the guardsmen cleared out of the infirmary.
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4113180.M41
Today I met an Inquisitor.  They had captured an escape pod from the vessel we destroyed.  The inquisitor and two guardsmen brought this man into my infirmary and strapped him to an operating table.

"You, Tech Priest Medicae!"  The Inquisitor called me over.  "Do you know how to interrogate heretics?"

Not trusting myself to speak much since the vox incident, I shook my head.

"Fine.  Just do what I tell you and we'll get along."

This Inquisitor asked the prisoner questions, and when he didn't answer the guardsmen took turns beating him.  Every time he passed out I had to bring him back.  Eventually they grew tired of his resistance.

The Inquisitor asked him more questions.  After I surgically removed some bones from his hand, he answered.  Satisfied with his answers, the Inquisitor shot him, killed him in my infirmary.

"Tech Priest," he said to me, a still smoking pistol in his hand, "That was well done.  You should consider coming to work for me."  He left the infirmary along with his two guardsmen.  I disposed of the body and cleaned the room.

I have no eyes, but I must weep.
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4116180.M41
The stories about "Doctor Death" have started up again, no doubt by those two guardsmen that helped with the interrogation.  The stories this time weren't so nice.  They made me out to be how I thought of myself, a killer, a villain.

I hope Atella doesn't hear them.
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4131180.M41
Atella is growing distant.  I'm sure she's heard stories about Doctor Death the torturer.  She doesn't say anything, but I can tell by the way she looks at me, and by how she's started shrinking from my touch.

Please, Atella, please.  Don't leave me.
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4141180.M41
Atella told me she doesn't think we should see each other anymore.  I tried to tell her how I'd do anything just to hold her in my arms, but my vox unit acted up again, and there was some loud feedback.  She looked at me with something like pity in her eyes, and walked away.

I have no eyes, and I must weep.

I found the Inquisitor from before, and told him I'd join the Inquisition.
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4170180.M41 112 days after the first entry.M41
Atella hasn't been by to see me since our last conversation.

Today I left the Heretic's Bane with the Inquisitor and his revenue.
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