Editing Trip Into Hell (Warhammer High) (section)

===You Can't Go Home Again===
After a hundred and thirty four days, Terra once again loomed large before Julius. The grey dead hulk of a world had never looked more unwelcoming then it did now. He wouldn’t be here long, just long enough to ensure the letter got to whom it was written for, and then he would leave for the IMA and the next stage of his life. If he could still go there without having a breakdown every time they mentioned the cost of war.

He stood on the observation deck of the Renald, a medium sized trader which regularly made the run between Calth and Terra. His journey had been unpleasant, but that was not the fault of the ship, or its crew. No, his descent into despair had not been stopped by his talk with John Grammaticus, only slowed, and the Nightmares assailed him time and time again. The crew stared at him every time he went past; though he had a cabin all of his own unlike the Sanctity of Saramanth it wasn’t soundproofed, and his nightly screaming matches were heard by all aboard.

As he watched the ship manoeuvre into docking position, he rubbed his forehead. His head throbbed dully; the legacy of the previous night’s drinking. Julius had never been one for alcohol before, but now he was drinking heavily, anything to numb the pain and stop the nightmares. The crew had turned a blind eye to his age, when he was plastered he didn’t wake half the crew with his screaming. A morning with a roaring hangover was infinitely preferable to a night of blood and death. He hated himself for succumbing to the drink, but then he hated himself for a lot now. What was one more thing to the tally? One thing he did worry about was that the moment he landed Terra-firma he would no longer have quite so easy access to drink, as a seventeen year old minor. How would he get his fix and keep the nightmares at bay?

Low-orbit traffic above Terra, as always was lousy with hundreds of ships jostling for space. Endless queues of lifter-boats, heavy-duty bulk tenders and system monitors held station in the wash of augur-fogging electromagnetics and engine flare from the heavier vessels as system pilots manoeuvred them towards the superorbital plates for refuelling, re-arming and supply.

Julius felt even worse now that he had returned, and received the news. Furia had run away, cut and run from Terra into the wider Galaxy. Isis had taken Furia under her wing during those last few weeks, she would be devastated. After that, how could he make things even worse for her by revealing his sundered oaths and PTSD? No, it would be better for the both of them if he just stayed away.

“Update: berthing docket inloading,” the tinny, mechanical voice came over the ships’ PA. “One hundred minutes until our allotted berth is available.”

Every one of those hundred minutes felt like agony as they passed at a snail’s pace. Finally the ship shuddered as it docked with the Gondavana, one of Terra’s Superorbital Plates and Julius went to collect his things. After fifty days on this ship, he was glad to be getting off, even if he would have to face hell and worse down on Terra.

The trip from Gondavana to Lion’s Gate Spaceport outside the palace came and went in a flash, and the hoverbus trip from there to Startseite went bye even quicker. He hadn’t contacted or spoken with anyone since Seadelant, so no-one knew he was back. Even if they did know, they were all busy elsewhere, so he wouldn’t have been given a warm reception the way he expected Venus, Freya and Remilia were greeted when they returned to Terra. But then, they weren’t shell shocked veterans who had become raging alcoholics.

Finally he was standing outside a modest hab in the uptown area of Startseite. Home, though it didn’t feel much like home anymore. 
For a few minutes he did nothing but stare at the door, his mind blank. Finally he reached over and opened the door. Ollanius was in the kitchen, and he turned to see his son standing in the doorway.

“Father.” Julius said as he took a step inside.

“Son.” Oll replied. For a few seconds they just stared at one another, until Oll suddenly walked over and embraced Julius. “I’m so glad you’re safe. When the news came through that you were trapped on that world…”

“I survived.” And I wish I had survived intact like you would have, but there we go. I’m now a drunken wreck who’s been scarred for life by a single bloody month of combat. Julius was tempted to say that, to let spill some of his bitterness, but he didn’t. He just stood there, meekly accepting his father’s warm greeting. He broke it off and ushered Julius inside.

“Are you going to let her know you’re back?” his first question to him, hardly surprising. Julius slowly nodded. He would have to; there was no escaping it now. Even if he didn’t, someone else would tell her he was back before long. He sincerely hoped she couldn’t or wouldn’t want to see him, that her college workload would preclude her from leaving.

Briefly he glanced over that the mag-calender hanging on the wall. The date on the calendar read 0 3410 447 M34. The daughters and their boyfriends had all gone to College over a month and a half ago, and by now would be well into their first year of study. They were gone from his life. Was Isis gone as well? For her sake, he hoped so. He would not to saddle her with his problems, not when she had enough of her own.

Briefly Oll summarised what had happened on Terra since he had gone. Their Priest, Pulandio had gone to Hy Brasil to rest and recuperate from the near fatal beating he had suffered at the height of the Keiter affair and Oll had taken over, though he freely admitted he was no orator and his rather awkward delivery of the sermons left a lot to be desired. Something about elections and the death of the representative of the Chartist Captains, and of course the fact that all the daughters had gone off. Julius half-listened without paying attention, wondering how he would be able to stop the nightmares that would inevitably come tonight. His father’s drinks cabinet was locked tight, and Julius didn’t know where the key was. He would have to go tonight without drinking, which did not make Julius’s mood any better.

He picked at his food and ate little, and he went to bed as fast as he could. He tried to stay up and read for as long as possible, but the jaws of sleep eventually claimed him.
The Nightmare came again that night, and the evening was torn by Julius’s desperate yells. He was jarred awake, and for a second he lay there, staring into space. Another night dominated by dreams of hell and death, of her last words to him and the feeling of her warm body going cold as he held it and screamed to the heavens. He dearly wanted a drink at that moment, something to take the edge off.

There was a knocking on the door, soft but firm. A crack of light striped across the bed, and Julius turned to see his father silhouetted in the doorway.
“Julius is everything alright?” he asked.

Julius wanted to yell out, ‘yes father, everything’s fucking alright. I’m just a nut-case who can’t get over the death of the woman who stole my heart and shattered my vows. No father, I’m fucking fine’, but reality prevailed. He just said. “It was just a bad dream. These things happen.”

Oll didn’t leave. He stood there, veiled in shadow. “It wasn’t the first time, was it?” he asked. “You’ve been having nightmares ever since you left Seadelant, haven’t you?”

His words rammed home, and Julius groggily pulled himself upright to face his father. “So what if I have?” his words were more bitter then he’d intended.

Oll nodded. “Julius, come with me. I think we need to have a little talk.”

Julius pulled himself up and followed his father out to the living room. Oll sat down, and beckoned for Julius to sit beside him. For a few seconds they didn’t say anything, a vast gulf between them. Finally Oll broke the silence.

“You’re hurting. Don’t deny it; I’ve seen it happen too many times before. A piece of your soul has been torn out.” Julius did not reply. The tense silence filled the room before Oll added. “You’ve been drinking. I smelt it on your breath from the moment you walked in the door.” 

His blunt statement felt like a condemnation, and Julius scrambled to defend himself.
“Why do you care? I know you don’t approve, but…”

“Of course I disapprove. Drinking doesn’t solve the problem; it doesn’t even make it better. No, it only masks it for a short time. I’ve seen it a thousand times before.”

“It’s the only thing which lets me sleep without the nightmares!”

“I’ve heard that one before as well, and you know as well as I do that that’s a lie. Not a single drop of alcohol will pass your lips while you’re under this roof. Understood?”

Julius scowled at his father. How the hell would he know? He wasn’t the one whose world was coming apart at the seams. He wasn’t the one who was hurting every single day.

“Julius, what happened on Seadelant to leave you so angry and despondent?”

Julius didn’t reply. He just stared into space. Oll pressed him.

“You’re going to have to tell me son, if I am to help you. I know it will hurt, but that hurt will only get worse if you keep it bottled up like that. It will get worse and worse, until all you can do is try to end it all, and that is a sin. Let it out now, just let it go.”

His father spoke the truth. The whole time he had spoken the truth, no matter how much it hurt. Julius slowly began with when the Hulk first appeared in the skies over Seadelant, and how he had signed up for the CDA. He left nothing out, he spoke of how he had unmasked Summer as a follower of the God-Emperor, how he had sworn to keep her secret. He spoke of the fall of the walls and living underground where they lived in fear of discovery and death. He spoke of how he had gotten close to Summer, and how he had finally betrayed his oaths and sundered his vows with her. As he did he looked at his father, expecting anger or disappointment, but his father’s expression didn’t change one bit, it remained kindly but piercing, his eyes the same vivid blue as Julius’s own. Julius spoke of the Daemon, of his last night with Summer, of their suicide mission to send warning to the Inner City. 

Julius found the story consuming him like fire consumes paper, swallowing him up. No matter how much it hurt, he couldn’t stop now. The arrival of the Legions, the Ork assault, the Daemonic Incursion and the Brass scorpion, all of it tumbled out in a wave of emotion. Finally his voice choked up as he forced himself to confront the final chapter of the story, the Bunker. Not caring about what he had told Ahriman, he told his father of the fight, of how Summer had banished the Daemon with her faith, and how she had died in his arms. He could barely speak by the time he was done, but he had to finish, had to get the last of it out.

“My shame is complete father. God has abandoned me and rightly so. I betrayed the woman I love, and then the other woman I came to love died in my arms. After that I don’t deserve a happy ending. After that I deserve everything that has happened to me. I am a mess and I will never be free of this, I will never erase this stain on my character.”

Not a word passed Oll’s lips, not a single comment at the tale Julius had just told, and he felt his ire rising. “How did you ever survive this hell father? The whole Crusade and you never broke once. One month and I shattered like glass. Why?!” He all but spat out.

Oll fingered the onyx-and-gold Ullanor Triumph Bar he always wore, a legacy of his glorious service. 

"My son, there’s a saying as old as war itself. ‘In war, there are no unwounded soldiers,’ and I am no exception. I’ve been through what you’re going through before. I’ve had shell-shock before.”

His revelation stunned Julius. “What? When?”

“It was on the planet designated seventeen-nine early in the Crusade. We were fighting heathens allied with the darker powers who had enslaved that world. There was a close friend of mine, his name was Petch. He was a Merican from Nouva Yourk, he never quit and he was almost insanely brave. He wanted to serve his term, head home and start a family. He saved my arse more times than I could count on that forsaken world. Then came the day where he shielded me from an artillery shell and was nearly torn in two. He lay there in front of me; just a torso with his legs and one of his arms gone and half his face torn off and he asked me to give him mercy. I had nightmares after that, nightmares about what I’d done. I felt guilty he had died and I had survived. I stopped praying, I felt God had abandoned me, if we weren’t in the front line continuously I would have started drinking. As it turned out I drank illegal moonshine every chance I got and hated myself for doing so.” Julius’s eyes widened.

“We had an abhuman auxiliary unit attached at the time, the Barakak third, and I ended up paired with one of their Ogryn warriors. I had one of my nightmares one night while we were on patrol, and he asked me why I was screaming. I rather nastily told him the whole thing, and he said that he’d lost his best friend as well, on the same day it turned out. Hell-Spawn killed him, burned him alive. And yet the Ogryn was not sad, did not feel crushed the way I did. When I asked him why, he said that his friend ‘was a good soldier for the Emperor, and now he's with the Emperor.’ He told me he did not weep for his friend because he was with the Emperor now. He wept for himself because he had been left behind.”

“His faith opened my eyes, made me realise what true faith looked like. His simple devotion was more real than any scripture or verse I’d ever read. After that I re-connected with my faith, went and sought counselling help to deal with my nightmares. The Campaign ended soon afterwards, and the Barakak third were sent elsewhere to help some other Imperial force. I never saw that Ogryn again, though I prayed heavily for him and have never forgotten what he did for me. I hope he survived and got to go home again.”

“Who was this Ogryn?” Julius asked.

“Gav.” Oll said softly. “His name was Gav.” Oll smiled. “I wanted to name you after him, but Julia refused. She was adamant you would be named for that atavus of hers who fought the Mad King of Tali, and no-one could ever win an argument with her. Your mother was stubborn as a mule.”

Julius held back a laugh.

“You’re not flawed for feeling the way you do Julius. We are after all only human, not demigods made flesh like the Astartes and the Primarchs, or the daughters for that matter. We can’t survive such trauma untouched. You saw death and were reminded of your own mortality, and you needed to cope with that horrific fact. What happened with you and this lady you met, it was natural. You coped with the horror of an alien invasion and the death which surrounded you by finding a little peace and warmth. She needed you, and you responded to that need. You should not be ashamed that your oaths fell by the wayside, stronger men than you or I have tried and failed to keep to their oaths in similar situations before. God had not abandoned you, He will be waiting for you when you return to Him with open arms.”

Julius still hadn’t asked the big question. “How can I face her after all this? I’m not the same person who fled Terra over four months ago. And I’ve heard the news about Lady Furia; I can’t dump my troubles on her as well. The cousin she took under her wing cuts and flees from Terra, and then her boyfriend returns a shattered wreck that happened to cheat on her despite his vows? I can’t do that to her, I can’t be that callous.”

Oll shook his head. “You owe it to her to tell her the truth, no matter the situation. Would you leave her in the lurch, wondering why you didn’t try to see her while you were here? Would you make her feel even worse, when her companion refused to even try and see her after what she’s been through? I raised you to be better than that my son. What happened with Lady Furia will be hurting her, and she’s been worried about you the entire time you were on that planet and afterwards when you refused to contact her. She spoke with me just before she went to Kourtney, asking me to contact her the moment you returned planetside. I haven’t done so yet, but I will tomorrow. Even if it is over between you two, you owe her the truth, you owe her an explanation. Would you deny her that?”

Julius shook his head slowly and took a deep breath. “You remember that old song father, about that ancient war? It had that line ‘god help me, I was only nineteen’. I understand it now. God help me, I’m only seventeen.”

Oll laughed.

“I can’t fight your battles for you son. I can get you the help you need, but you will need the will to go through this, the will to want to be cured. You can’t change the past, you can’t wish all this away, but you can leave the past behind and get on with your life. You’re only seventeen; you have a whole life yet to live. It will be hell, reliving your experiences all over again in therapy but the pain will go away. It always goes away. We can delay your intake to the IMA if necessary until you feel fit enough to go. But we will worry about all this in the morning. Now go back to bed and try and get some sleep. Remember I am always here for you, no matter what.”

Oll led Julius back to bed, and for the first time since Seadelant Julius murmured a prayer to his god. The Nightmare lurked at the fringes of his mind, but it didn’t return that night.