Chapter 2
Abbadon's War
Escape
The Master
“Do you wish to know what happened to the Imperium?” Eisenhorn asked. He was impossibly old, over 3500 years. It was unnatural. No man could survive so long, even with the most rigorous regime of drugs and medication. Eventually, everyone died.
“The hell I do!” Rosenadel spat, “I know that humanity has lost it's way if it Allies itself with Emperor damned Xenos!”
“Calm down, Inquisitor. There is a reason...please, listen to me...” Eisenhorn continued, through Rosenadel's ramblings.
“A reason?” Rosenadel hissed, walking forward and putting one foot on the lowest step of the rapidly tapering dais in the middle of the room. “This...this abominable practise simply shows a loss of reason, Eisenhorn.”
“Listen, please. You'll need all the knowledge you can get, in the future,” Eisenhorn said, his voice still level. Rosenadel's grimace did not leave his face and he sighed through gritted teeth.
“Very well, heretic. Tell me what happened...”
“You will not like it. And I'd appreciate it if you didn't call me heretic”
“Hurry up, heretic,” said Rosenadel sarcastically, “I don't have much patience for your kind.”
“Okay.” Eisenhorn replied bitterly. He nodded to Arkot, who walked over to a panel and began giving the auditorium's computer commands. The Erek Cluster disappeared and was instantaneously replaced with an area of space Rosenadel was all too familiar with.
“The Cadian Gate..?”
“Yes. The Eye of Terror, particularly. In the end,” Eisenhorn sighed, “all of this was caused by the Eldar.”
“The Eldar?”
“Indeed. The fact that they existed. Did you know that when the Prince of Pleasure, Slaanesh, was created, the psychic resonance caused the Eye of Terror to explode into existence. A huge, ugly gash along the thin veil that separates material from immaterial...” Eisenhorn trailed off as the computer magnified the holographic image till the Eye took up the entire left hand side. Eisenhorn floated slightly to the right, just infront of the Eye's image. “Come up, Rosenadel.” Rosenadel, captivated by the image, obeyed Eisenhorn. He stood at the ancient Inquisitor's side. “You know, we never saw it coming...”
“What?” Rosenadel asked, snapping back to conciousness.
“Abbadon's last invasion. The 15th Black Crusade. Humanity's downfall,” Eisenhorn started. Rosenadel looked at him, studying the fleshy mask Gorgon Locke had left him with on Gudrun, long ago. “It was only in hindsight that we realised that the immensely successful 13th Black Crusade was only Abbadon testing yet more tactics. You see, we now know that he had been only testing various strategies and choosing the most successful. On the 15th occasion, he utilised them to their fullest extent.” Eisenhorn stopped, and holographic ships, thousands of them, poured out the Eye, breaking off and heading in separate directions. “We were, of course, prepared.” Now Imperial fleets emerged and began to engage the traitor ships. The image froze. “It was just a decoy. Abbadon had held out bait, and we had taken it without a second thought.”
“You cannot blame yourself,” Rosenadel smirked.
“Of course we can, Inquisitor,” Eisenhorn replied, ignoring Rosenadel's tone. “We walked right into the Arch-Enemy's trap. We engaged the traitor fleets, and it looked like we would reach a swift resolution, but their numbers quadrupled overnight.” The holo-image was suddenly filled with heretic ships. “Cadia became quickly isolated, battles raging on the edge of the system as Imperial Battlefleets rushed to assist. Of course, Abbadon advanced beyond her. Belis Corona was savagely attacked and overrun by the World Eaters, giving the traitors a significant naval advantage. It was only when we got reports that one of Cadia's Forge Worlds had fallen did we realise just how powerful the attack was.” Eisenhorn paused as Belis Corona changed from green to red.
“Did we recapture her?” Rosenadel asked, now taking proper interest, his anger have boiled away, leaving the cold, calculating mind that had made him such a successful Inquisitor.
“Yes, of course.”
“When?”
“Last year.” There was an uncomfortable silence, and Rosenadel began to sub-consciously bite his lower lip. “The 15th Black Crusade lasted a hundred years.”
“When did it begin?”
“666.M42. It is the reason why, around 343 years later, humanity Allied with the Tau and Eldar. During those hundred years Abbadon conquered the entire Segmentum Obscurus. Within fifty years, Cadia was the only bastion of human resistance left in the Ocularis Terribus region.”
“Agripinaa?” Cagarner asked, referring to a Mechanicum world. Rosenadel turned to looked at the Fabricator General as the holo-image zoomed out of the Eye and once more encompassed the whole of Scarus Sector. He had forgotten him.
“Yes, even she fell,” Eisenhorn answered. “The 15th Black Crusade conquered up to and including Voss, and Abbadon's new dominion covered from Avignor to Ornsworld, Hydraphur and Dimmamar. This was 766.M42, and Abbadon had ceased his rampage. As far as we know, even now Cadia battles on. It is the Cadian War, which we wage just now, that will decide the fate of the Galaxy.”
“You said the crusade lasted a hundred years, but it is now almost the 45th millennium.”
“Yes, it is. Abbadon regrouped, and we had enough time to counter-attack and contest Voss long enough to reinforce defences on what is now called the Terran Wall.”
“Which is?”
“All the planets from Thranx to Gathalamor, facing Terra on one side, and the Eye on the other. The next stage of the war lasted till 950.M42. It was called the Blitzkrieg Offensive. Abbadon's forces broke upon the Terran Wall like water upon rocks. All of the worlds were embroiled in war, victories and defeats simultaneous across an area of space larger than the Eye of Terror itself. Not much occurred that is of interest, for the purpose of our discussion, till Abbadon withdrew in 949.M42. Then, in 951.M42, the Solar Wars began. Somehow, without meeting resistance, a Traitor Battlefleet seeped through the Wall, and reached the Sol system. As soon as we reacted, the rest of the enemy forces hit the Wall again. The reserve forces were left to defend Terra...” Eisenhorn mumbled the last sentence.
“And what happened.”
“In 956.M42, she almost fell.”
“Almost? So she didn't?”
“We fought them off, forced them back to the Wall, conducted a counter-offensive...all under a false sense of high moral. We kept it quiet, but it couldn't be held back for ever...”
“What happened?”
“The Emperor's Palace was overrun.”
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