A Dirge for Gideon
Domiltru 'Dom' Delahue
Albaster skin and stark black hair, his eyes are devoid of the anger but filled with a black well of power...
A brief history of Domiltru ‘Dom’ Delahue:
By Bryan Climer
Domiltru ‘Dom’ Delahue, Dom for short, has led a much more charmed life than his unassuming form would foretell. Dom’s childhood was dominated by happenstance and fated encounters aboard the cargo vessel “Moirae”. His parents, void-born as their parents and theirs before, seemed to shy away from most of the crew (some 8000+ people) and instead opted to focus on their family, all until Dom began manifesting.
Dom’s manifestation started small: bobbles would inexplicably roll towards him when the deck-grav plating would most certainly be working, or Dom would be able to run through the dark – doors swinging wildly out of his way. When Dom’s precognitive nightmares became drawings on the bulkhead, using ash as his paint, were found by his parents, his father reluctantly went to tell the ship’s captain.
Dom’s father was praised after the ship jumped purposefully short of its intended destination, finding the ‘prediction’ to be true and narrowly avoiding certain death, but was under severe scrutiny starting then. This was the beginning of a very troublesome few month as some characterized Dom’s father as a prophet, yet some felt him to be a heretic – this led to praise and punishment.
When Dom’s next wall scrawling showed signs of a ‘Black Ship’, Dom’s father again told the captain and again the meeting was averted. This happened a dozen times or so – until Dom’s father met his end from the bite of stub revolver: for heresy. It turns out the captain of the “Moirae” had grown weary of these vessels had instead opted to face them… with an excuse (of course, that usually doesn’t work, but they could not be outrun forever).
The death of Dom’s father, Dom’s mother began taking the boy to a blind priest aboard the ship… as she knew her son would not be around much longer, and maybe the ship itself may not due to harboring the psyker (knowingly or unknowingly) for so long. The priest, blind to the world around him and as much as a recluse as Delahue’s, had no idea of the boy’s abilities and for the next month, he preached and pontificated with all his worldly might – the Imperial Creed. A font of fire and worldly damnation spewed forth, blessings and penitence gushed outwards, baptismal rage and humbling passion for the God-Emperor of mankind swept around and Dom soaked it all up.
The month that Dom became enamored with the Imperial Creed is the month that the Black Ships needed to catch up. When the ship finally docked, the captain was shocked to learn that it was not Dom’s father that was the psyker, but the young child, that had met the Black Ship’s garrison at the docking bay, and this was the last item the captain learned before his met his demise to a blessed bolt round – inscribed with the finest litanies that the ecclesiarch can etch. The boy and the ship, however remained unscathed… and while brief consideration was given over to having the boy continue to light the fire of the God-Emperor’s life-sustaining machinations, it was instead decided that he would be pressed into the service of the emperor – with the power the child possessed currently, who knows what works he could do for the emperor.
With a simple glance back, yet no word uttered, he said goodbye to the cargo ship “Moirae”, and with that he began his long journey of sanctioning. His sanctioning went almost uneventfully, save for the process used to smash his will into a workable form: he now has a seething distaste and discomfort of robed, bald women.
The unremarkable nature of his sanctioning and subsequent assigning to an Imperial Guard choir unit seemed devoid of his former charmed childhood, until a string of occurrences: first, while Dom had an interview with an Interrogator over a battlefield incident involving the whole choir, the rest of Dom’s choir fell to corruption and had opened a minor breach in the warp. Dom remained under guard and gunpoint while the minor daemons were dealt with. The second incident happened almost the exact same way – even the Interrogator was the same. The 532nd Cadian unit began to whisper, and this began certain rumors of the nature of Dom, and when Dom went anywhere, the rest of the choir had to follow. So when Dom started requesting that he be allowed to visit services, the whispers continued that he might be diverting a warp invasion. Or when Dom requested that a priest be assigned to the choir for general use, it was whispered that Dom new that one of the other choir was corrupt and needed cleansing. This of course was unfounded rumor and Dom’s request were merely for his love and admiration of the Imperial Creed – This; however, did not stop the choir from getting slaughtered by weary guardsmen, while they slept: save for Dom, as he was the ‘good luck’ charm.
When Dom awoke from the night of slaughter, he staggered from the blood and gore drenched tent, aghast at his surroundings and the remains of his choir. He knew that this did not look good for him – it looked too perfect that he survived. He knew that this would likely lead to his demise as a campaign was about to start and the guardsmen could not take the risk of a rogue psyker being in their midst. So he knelt in front of the tents – pulled his mercy knife from it’s scabbard on his chest and turned his chin upwards, exposing his neck to the blade’s razor edge. Blood started to fill the blade’s crevasses, the litanies of hope and judgment – the finest that the ecclesiarch can etch. It was at this moment, the Interrogator from the previous two instances came across the grisly scene and ordered Dom to halt. Dom obeyed: A bolt pistol still being trained at his head and his blood trickling down his neck over his alabaster skin, he fainted from blood loss.
One mind-scan later, and plenty of recovering in a med-tent later, Dom awoke – still under guard. The guardsmen who perpetrated the slaughter were ‘sentenced’ for insubordination and were burned with the rest of the choir. Dom, being a psyker and possible threat had never before seen his Commissar this close, but he was fairly certain that at one point he saw his Commissar in the doorway of tent getting relayed the incident by the Interrogator. The next moments surprised him as he funneled his power into healing himself – the Commissar seamed to look towards Dom and nod slightly before turning and walking away: it has always made Dom curious to know if the Commissar had given into the superstitious whispers of the 532nd regarding Dom… but he’d never know. Smiling at this he slipped back to sleep, under guard of no less than two Cadian guardsmen. He dreamt of a far off mining city, a gunfight in a cargo hold, exotic xenos weaponry, monsters and daemons, inquisitorial rosettes and fighting for people he’d never met before.