[@Andreyich][@NecroKnight][@Ollumhammersong]


There had been no questions, and so there had been no need to hold back the newcomers from further training - training which would be much more familiar to them than it would have been to any actively serving members of non-Primaris stock.

They were shown their chambers first, simply furnished but housing all that they may need in the form of racks and stnads for weapons and armour, a small chapel, a cot and a cogitator unit for research and the like. 

From there they proceeded to be shown about the station- not that there was much to look at, as it was a small and simple structure created for a small group of Deathwatch assests, and not a larger fortress.

Eventually they would find themselves strapped down into Astartes-sized chairs, cables running from various points about the dim-lit one-man chambers to various points throughout their bodies, multiple screens flickering to life before their eyes and the black-robed humans who acted as machine operators insisting that it would all be over quickly.

Before long the entire kill-team was being subjected to hypno-indoctrination concerning information that only the Deathwatch were privy to, about xenos species that outside the Deathwatch went from being mere rumours to being entirely unknown, information that would stick in their subconscious memories even if their wider mind had forgotten.

Time passed quickly and, after innumerable sessions such as these, the squad was given permission to train their bodies as well as their minds...


[i]Several months later...[/i]


The 'training area' was small, at least as far as the Astartes present were concerned, shelves of weapons bolted onto all four walls of the expansive room (actually a spare hangar bay commandeered for the purpose) and enough room for all of them to take to the floor if they wished.

Slack-faced servitors looked on nervelessly from their alcoves as Ayuri paced in front of the assembled Primaris, he being the only one clad in armour, the four novices dressed from head-to-toe in form-fitting robes.

"Time to test your mettle, newbloods!" Announced the pale-skinned veteran, a look of [i]almost[/i] mirth crossing his usually dour features, "thus far everything has been hypothetical, but now we shall see what you are made of."

"First I shall test [b]you[/b], then we shall introduce an adversary," his finger pointed to two of the assembled Primaris, "Brother Tyros. Brother Kelmorian." Next he pointed to a space behind him, "until first blood, if you please, if you wish to choose a weapon..." his hand drifted to the line of melee weapons on a nearby wall, "...then so be it."

It would be a test of Marine against Marine until first blood was drawn.