Prologue

In a pitch black room, a man lays prone, motionless in prayer to the divine immortal Emperor of mankind. His forehead pressed to that of the cold marble floor, whilst his hands formed the sign of the Imperial Aquila on his chest. A seemingly unremarkable man, save for his impossibly tall frame, the garments that adorn his body being ones fit for a pauper, they were made of a coarse hessian and littered with tears, but this mattered little to him, wearing them as if they were the finest of Eldar silks. For all of the cells lack of width and depth, it was disproportionately high, the full extent of which was only shown when the illum-globe flickered into being high in the rafters. The light it offered was of little help in reality, both its distance from the cells floor and the shimmering of the ancient fitting, barely reaching the man in prayer below, yet its light was enough to distinguish his face. His features were ones of age and wisdom, lined with scars both decades old and fresh, but all of this was in direct contradiction to his body, which was perfectly toned. His physique was one of a man nearly a fifth of his age; it was littered with scars, but also bore the distinctive signs of black carapace implants just below the dermis. The skin was also punctured with numerous relay ports and connection points that would allow power armour to be fitted to him almost like a second skin.

Outside the mans cell, the footsteps of heavily armoured soldiers could be heard, increasing in volume until they ceased outside the door. A vox-broadcast broke the palpable silence; Step to the back of the cell and assume the position said the terse staticfilled electronic voice. The man knew The position all too well from his life in service, now it was his turn to be on the receiving end, the irony was not lost on him in the slightest. Silently he rose from his prayers, stepping to the rear of the room he placed his feet on the marks on the floor and leant forward matching the ones on the wall with both his forehead and hands. From behind him, the thunderous clatter of the cells locks disengaged, the door hissed as it was pried open by the mans gaolers. The room instantly flooded with the scent of sickly-sweet incense, breaking the stale dry one that had preceded its entrance. It was one the man knew all too well from his

The Fall of Calliope VI

childhood in the monasteries that had played the part of his parentless home. Two men stood in the doorway, eyeing the man up before one of them finally entered. The pair of gaolers could have been described as average, were it not for the resplendent armour and weaponry that both of them carried. Their gold armour was of the highest quality, masterly crafted by artisans long since passed into time immemorial, bedecked in jewels and engraved with images of battles and events unique to the order the men served. Each bore a halberd which incorporated a large calibre firearm, their heavy look belying their actual lightness. For all that the gaolers armour was unique they shared a commonality, that of the symbols which decorated their chests, an Imperial Aquila with an embellished I central to the double headed birds chest. Lacking any courtesy for his detainee, the gaoler hurriedly and brutally fastened shackles to the mans limbs and neck, trapping skin in the locks and hinges, the man never even flinched at his rough treatment. Promptly and still lacking in regard for the mans existence, they pushed and cajoled the man from his cell with their halberds, for no reason other than their own amusement. The man would have gone willingly given the chance, as he knew there was no just cause in his captivity, so why aggravate the situation, he thought to himself. For some time the man was prodded onward down gloomy chasm-like corridors, past rooms of prayer and ones of torture. The sounds of both glorious worship and agonising screams spoke to him on a profound level, stirring long forgotten memories within. A wry knowing smile had appeared on his face, being one of nostalgia at the remembrance of events long gone, but the feeling didnt stay long. The gaoler who earlier had manhandled him, struck out with the back of his heavily armoured fist, wiping the look clean from it; You dont have the right to smile here! snapped the guard tersely. Instantly the man righted himself from the heavy blow, but quickly he forgave the guards actions and bowed in forgiveness towards him, for he knew it wouldnt do to provoke anything further. As they carried onward, he realised for the first time the difference in height between himself and his gaolers, almost being a full head and a half above them; His guards were by no means short, being the statutory height for men of their rank and position, which was a good few inches above that of the men in the Imperial Guard. Suppressing his amusement he strode onward towards the

Prologue

trios apparent destination, a pair of obsidian doors of immeasurable height and width. The two rectangle slabs were both highly detailed with more images akin to that of the guards armour, carved deep into the stone and lined with a gold inlay. It proved a stark contrast to the bare hallways and cells they had passed on their journey here. If there had been any doubt as to where the man was being held captive before, it was now removed from his mind as he read the high Terran script which adorned the doors, reading; Fear not the Alien, for they know not the Emperors light, and thus they deserve nothing short of illumination through death. There was no mistaking that this was an Inquisition fortress monastery of the Ordos Xenos, the Imperiums protection against all things alien; an institution which dated back millennia to the closing days of the Heresy. With a grace that belies their size, the doors opened effortlessly and un-aided. Seeing this as a silent cue, the gaolers led their charge into the dark room with more care than they had previously shown. They were nervous to be in this place but hid it well, mindful of being watched and not wanting to incur their superiors wrath.

As the three men passed over the threshold, each could see no more than the dais that stood directly before them. This was due to it being illuminated by another of the orbs that lit the halls, yet this one shone with a brilliant and direct intensity that lit the podium below it. The shadows of the room vied in direct competition against it but still they managed to keep their secrets. As they arrived at the mans final destination, he eyed up the podium, which was plain, save for another of the Inquisitions symbols as well as an eyelet to which he was shackled anew, as the other guard cautiously removed the old ones from his extremities. Quickly the guards made to depart the room and their former charge, but as they did, the man nodded in thanks and appreciation for having been brought here, just as if he had asked them for directions to the chamber. This left the gaolers somewhat confused as to how a man can be appreciative of being held captive and beaten, soon they were beyond the threshold once more, scratching their heads as they went, the doors sealing shut

The Fall of Calliope VI

once more behind them. The man stood motionless, bathed in light, awaiting what he knew was now ahead of him.

For several hours he stood there, unrelenting in his emotionless stare, feet shoulder width apart with his hands clasped behind his back. It wasnt until the thirteenth hour had passed that the man did anything other than breath and stare into the dark before him. Impatience began to flow across his face, it was now time to shatter the silent stalemate he thought to himself, firm but calm he pressed his question into the dark. Am I not to know the reason for my incarceration, does my position and status not give me the right to face my accusers by Imperial edict? He ended more abruptly than planned, but knew his point had been made when the unseen gallery burst into hushed tones and whispers. Once again he was motionless and awaited his answer. The onlookers fought to suppress their shock at the mans outburst and fell silent once more. After several minutes had passed, the eerie quiet was broken once again; You are right of course... said a tinny, almost mechanical voice as it paused for emphasis, You have been brought here in judgement for your crimes, the voice continued. Which are? snapped the man, his patience all but gone. Tetchily the bio-mechanical voice continued, attempting to dismiss the rudeness of the interjection the man had brought; Dereliction of your Imperial sanctioned post; destruction of hallowed and vital Imperial data; cowardice in the face of duty and that of countless other minor charges. What say you? Angry at the assumption of these charges, the man fought a bitter response and as calmly as he might, responded, I say they are unfounded my Lords. Had you been in my position, you would have done no differently of this I am sure, in the same way that I am sure in the

Prologue

knowledge that the Emperor sees and protects all! Passion and faith poured forth in every word spoken. You assume too much! snapped an altogether new voice from the shadows. You are a radical in the extreme, he continued, with little or no regard for your peers, nay your betters! The aged voice began to lose his train of thought and trailed off into mutters under his breath. A whisper could be heard in the direction of where the old mans voice had come from, and it seemed that he had been brought back into line with the others in the room, his voice now markedly calmer. Before this court can bring judgement on the crimes laid before us, we must, as tradition dictates, hear your testimony of the events in question. The man stood silently for mere moments before offering some overly apologetic words, My Lords, I humbly defer to your collective wisdom, please forgive my earlier rashness? It is forgiven. Said the first voice monotonously, You may begin your statement when ready but for the record, proceed with your rank and name The man nodded in reply and began softly; I am Lord Inquisitor Huginn Black of the Ordos Xenos, charged with the Protectorate of Calliope VI and its outlying system. This is my testimony of the facts as I see them and what happened, there short of three Terran years ago.

So the arduous process began.