Dan Abnett - Eisenhorn Omnibus

I visited the Studio, and got great help and advice from the game developers, particularly Gav Thorpe. Then I got to work.

I think what inspired me about John's painting was the aristocratic clothing: the rich black velvet of the sleeves, the engraved gold of the elegant weapon. This wasn't about the battlefield, the front-line of mud and gas and behemoth engines. This was a glimpse behind the lines at the internal complexity of the Imperium. It offered a chance to explore what might be called the 'domestic' side of the Warhammer 40,000 universe: the daily, non-military, life – at work, at worship, at rest, at court, at slum-level. A chance to visit worlds that were not levelled by war, and see how the billions of Imperial citizens lived.

And also to find out what evils stalked them, even in the shadows of their own hive cities.

The novel turned into a trilogy that charts the career of a man. Other stories, two of which are collected here, lace into that trilogy and, for those who are interested, the exploits of several of these characters continue in the Ravenor novels that are my current concern.

John Blanche's images have always had such a profound influence on the growth of the Warhammer 40,000 universe's unique flavour, I'm proud to acknowledge that painting as the inspirational source of Eisen-horn. Everywhere you look, his spiky, gothic, ornate visions inform the game, and I'd like to think you can find a hint of them permeating this collection. So, individual dedications notwithstanding, this collected volume is respectfully dedicated to Mr John Blanche.

Of course, if I ever work out whose idea it was to write these stories in the first person, I'll be round their house with a baseball bat. The plot problems that caused…

Oh, hang on. That was me.

Dan Abnett

Maidstone , 9th August, 2004

XENOS

For John Parsons, bonemagos.

BY ORDER OF HIS MOST HOLY MAJESTY THE GOD-EMPEROR OF TERRA

SEQUESTERED INQUISITORIAL DOSSIERS AUTHORISED PERSONS ONLY

CASE FILE ii2:67B:AA6:Xad

Please enter your authority code >

Validating…

Thank you, Inquisitor. You may proceed.

VERBAL TRANSCRIPT OF PICT-RECORDED DOCUMENT

LOCATION: MAGINOR DATE: 239. M41

RECOVERED FROM SERVITOR RECORDING MODULE

TRANSCRIBED BY SAVANT ELEDIX, ORDO HERETICUS

INQUISITORIAL DATA-LIBRARY FACULTY,

FIBOS SECUNDUS, 240. M41

note 1Darkness. Sounds of distant human pain. A flash of light note 2. Sounds of running.

Pict-source moves, tracking, vibrating. Some stone walls, in close focus. Another flash, brighter, closer. Squeal of pain note 3. An extremely bright flash note 4.

note 5

A man note 6in long robes, calls out as he strides past close to the pict-source note 7. Surroundings, dark stone note 8. (i)'s identity unknown note 9. Pict-source moves in close behind (i), observing as (i) draws a force hammer from a thigh loop under his robe. Close up on (i)'s hands as he grips haft. Inquisitorial signet ring in plain view, (i) turns note 10, (i) speaks.

VOICE (i): Move in! Move in, in the name of all that's holy! Come on and note 11 bastard monster to death!

Further flashes of light, now clearly close las-impacts. Pict-source filters fail to block glare note 12.

note 13Passing in through the high stone entrance of some considerable chamber. Grey stone, rough hewn. Pict-source pans. Bodies in doorway, and also slumped down interior steps. Massive injuries, mangled. Stones wet with blood.

VOICE OFF |(i)?[: Where are you? Where are you? Show yourself!

Pict-source moves in. Two human shapes move past it to left, blurred note 14to be male, approx 40 years, heavy-set, wearing Imperial Guard-issue body plate note 15, significant facial scarring note 16, wielding belt-fed heavy stubber; other

note 17is female, approx 25 years, svelte, skin dyed blue, tattoos and body-glove armour of a Morituri Death Cultist initiate, wielding force blade note 18.

Blurred shapes (ii) and (iii) move beyond pict-source. Pict-source pans round, establishing sidelong view of (ii) and (iii) engaged in rapid hand-to-hand warfare with adversaries on lower steps. Adversaries are heterogeneous mix: six humans with surgical/bionic implants, two mutants, three offensive servitors note 19, (ii) fires heavy stubber note 20.

Two human adversaries pulped note 21, (iii) severs head of mutant, vaults backwards note 22and impales human adversary. Pict-source moves down note 23.

VOICE OFF: Maneesha! To the left! To the l-

Pict-source makes partial capture as (iii) is hit repeatedly by energy fire, (iii) convulses, explodes. Pict-source hit by blood mist note 24. note 25(ii) is yelling, moving ahead out of view, firing heavy stubber. Sudden crossfire laser effect note 26.

note 27

note 28(i) is just ahead of pict-source, charging into wide, flat chamber lit by green chemical lamps note 29. Subject (i) positively identified as Inquisitor Hetris Lugenbrau.

LUGENBRAU: Quixos! Quixos! I put it all to the sword and the cleansing flame! Now you, monster! Now you, bastard!

VOICE note 30: / am here, Lugenbrau. Kharnagar awaits.

Lugenbrau (i) moves off-image. Pict-source pans. Image jerky. Body parts scattered on chamber floor note 31. Major detonation(s) nearby. Image shakes, pict-source falls sidelong.

note 32

note 33Lugenbrau partly visible off frame left, engaged in combat. Afterglow-residue of force hammer blows remain burned on image for several seconds note 34.

Pict-source turns to focus on Lugenbrau. Lugenbrau engaged in hand-to-hand combat with unknown foe. Movements too fast for pict-source to capture.

Blur. Human figures note 35move in from right frame. Heads of human figures explode. Figures topple.

note 36

note 37Jerky shots of ground and wall. Refocus blurring. Pict-source reacquires Lugenbrau and adversary in combat note 38. Combat as before too rapid for pict-source to capture. Extensive background noise. Glowing line note 39impales Lugenbrau. Image shakes note 40. Lugenbrau immolates note 41.

note 42

note 43Close up of face looking into pict-source. Identity unknown [subject (iv)[. (iv) is handsome, sculptural, smiling, eyes blank.

VOICE (iv): Hello, little thing. I am Cherubael.

Light flash.

Scream note 44.

note 45

ONE

A cold coming.

Death in the dormant vaults.

Some puritanical reflections.

Hunting the recidivist Murdin Eyclone, I came to Hubris in the Dormant of 240.M41, as the Imperial sidereal calendar has it.

Dormant lasted eleven months of Hubris's twenty-nine month lunar year, and the only signs of life were the custodians with their lighted poles and heat-gowns, patrolling the precincts of the hibernation tombs.

Within those sulking basalt and ceramite vaults, the grandees of Hubris slept, dreaming in crypts of aching ice, awaiting Thaw, the middle season between Dormant and Vital.

Even the air was frigid. Frost encrusted the tombs, and a thick cake of ice covered the featureless land. Above, star patterns twinkled in the curious, permanent night. One of them was Hubris's sun, so far away now. Come Thaw, Hubris would spin into the warm embrace of its star again.

Then it would become a blazing globe. Now it was just a fuzz of light.

As my gun-cutter set down on the landing cross at Tomb Point, I had pulled on an internally heated bodyskin and swathes of sturdy, insulated foul weather gear, but still the perilous cold cut through me now. My eyes watered, and the tears froze on my lashes and cheeks. I remembered the details of the cultural brief my savant had prepared, and quickly lowered my frost visor, trembling as warm air began to circulate under the plastic mask.