[b]The Death of The Order[/b]
Caliban - Segmentum Obscurus - Ca: M30

Upon the 10th day of the Waning Sun, Caliban changed forever. It had been a dark day, the sun occluded by heavy clouds which bought with them the promise of rain. Sartana had no complaints however, he knew that the rain was needed to keep the forests green the crops growing and the wells full, after all, what was a little discomfort in exchange for the promise of tomorrow? It also helped hide him and his party from unwelcome attention as they crouched in the undergrowth by the side of the road their armour and weapons purposefully dulled to avoid catching the light, and the eyes of any watchful sentries. 

They had been watching the fortress of their rivals, known simply as “The Order”, a title that spoke of self-aggrandisement that rankled the aging Knight of Lupus, as if they were the only order of knights on the world that mattered. He shook his head to rid himself of these thoughts, he needed to focus, concentrate, he, and his party were there to observe the comings and goings of the order, to ascertain their routines, strengths, and most importantly, their weaknesses. They weren’t at war of course, neither were any of the knightly orders in active conflict, but it always made do to keep an eye on the competition, to have a few bargaining chips on your side when it came to negotiating trade or disputes. It is for this reason that a knight as senior as Sartana had been sent, he was a wise figure, favoured to adopt the title of grandmaster, and would be able to ensure that the mission went smoothly, and if caught, his presence would be enough to convince The Order that he was engaging in a diplomatic journey, rather than a military operation.

It was then that it happened, the clouds cracked in the skies above the fortress and something shot from the skies at a speed Sartana could not comprehend, the air instantly took on the taste of ozone as the thing impacted the tallest of the forts towers, there was a moment of silence, broken by a white hot flash and the sound of a thunderous explosion the ground turned to liquid under Sartana’s feet as the shockwave passed over him, he heard the gruesome sounds of his horses rupturing under the pressure of the blast and the dying screams of all those who had not been in their armour. His head rang and ears stung as he faded into the blackness of unconsciousness.

Sartana awoke to the warm rain on his face. Another knight knelt over him, checking his vitals he didn’t recognize him at first as the haze of trauma induced unconsciousness slowly left him, suddenly he felt his adrenaline spike and he shot upright, slapping away the hand of the knight and scrabbling to his feet, he stared out at the scene before him in horrified awe. The forest that had surrounded him was gone, the trees uprooted and the ground turned to a fine, gritty sand, most of his partly was simply, not there, either blown away or buried under the now thick sandy ground. The fortress itself was absolutely destroyed, he could see where the stones had been scattered around the blast site like leafs in a storm, each one had left its own smaller crater, pockmarking the scene like a moonscape. 

“Gather what is left of our supplies, we must make it to the Fortress with haste” wheezed Sartana, still not quite fully recovered from the blast. 

“Sir, you should rest, there is nothing to be gain-” the knight was interrupted by Sartana snapping out a swift rebuke.

“The Order has kept its secrets from us for hundreds of years! Now their fortress is literally open before us! All that lore and technology is for the first order of knights that reaches it to claim. I will not waste this opportunity!” The old knight seemed manic, he knew that this was it, after a find this big he’d be expedited to grandmaster within months. He set off at a quick march, his fellow knights gathering their weapons rapidly and setting off running alongside him. 

The knights approached the ruins with swiftness balanced with caution. Now closer, they could see that there were still the foundations of the fortress remaining, and some buildings had been shielded by the wave of earth from the blast, and still stood half buried amongst the devastation. They spread out, carefully checking for traps and hidden mechanisms as they approached, for The Order’s paranoia was well known and whilst most traps had been destroyed or inadvertently triggered, one could never be sure that they were completely safe within these walls.

Small teams of between 5 and 8 knights were formed, some went to the known libraries and armouries to search for anything they could find, and more still searched for the hidden storage places and vaults that they knew would litter such a fortress. All except Sartana, who strode with quiet purpose through the now steady rainfall towards the broken tower where this devastation had originated. 
As he approached, the ground became more unstable, parts of the floor sagged and rose as the ground underneath them had rippled, he carefully picked his way forward, occasionally testing the ground before him with the haft of his axe, until he came to the edge of a great chasm where the floor had caved in completely, falling into the catacombs underneath the fortress. 

He ventured down, scrabbling from rock to rock as he descended into the darkness below, and then as he rounded a great statue that had crashed through into the substructure, he saw it. It was visible only through the darkness due to the harsh glow that emanated from it, a cross between blinding white and malevolent energy that flickered over its surface as if battling for possession of the thing. These lights suddenly dissipated as Sartana approached, being instead replaced by a soft clinical glow that illuminated the surrounding area. Now he could see it clearly, Sartana saw that it was a construction of metal and glass, intricate and finely pieced together in a manner that he had not seen outside of the systems of his own armour. He approached the glass window at what he assumed to be the front, and wiped the frost that had inexplicably formed over the surface, and gazed down upon a face, entombed within the pod was an infant, many cabled plugged into it and fed through tubes in a gross parody of a womb. Glancing up, atop the hatch there was a simple numeral where he might have expected a name, “VI.”

From there on things moved swiftly, the Knights of Lupus secured their findings loading the relics and technologies into carts, and vanished into the forest. They would send a small group to double back a few days later, to “discover” the ruins of The Order and emphatically bring this terrible news to the rest of Caliban. Meanwhile, back at their own fortress, Sartana had the news of their findings supressed, and quietly disseminated the discovered technologies to those he knew were loyal to him. He moved fast and secured his timely election to grandmaster, before turning his entire attention towards the mysterious pod he had found, now wired into the power relays of his workshops. Within, the infant rested, unaware of its own importance, and the blood that already soaked its existence.