Editing Trip Into Hell (Warhammer High) (section)

===The Clash of Fates===
“Oll, I don’t know what you and Summer were up to out there, but you must have been smoking something. Daemons don’t exist. They’re just the creation of the religious and superstitious, trying to justify their insane beliefs. Surely you’ve read your Sindermann?”

Julius was appalled by how Scvott was taking their revelation, how he was dismissing out of hand what he had seen, what they had seen. He’d long grown used to people insulting religion around him, but someone claiming he was delusional out of hand, even when he had a fellow witness was something he couldn’t cope with. They were all in the command room, sitting around the metal table. Tersely he had told them of what he had seen, without any mention of last night and what had happened with Summer. They already thought the two of them had been going at it for weeks, no sense in revealing the truth.

Julius was fast losing his temper with Scvott. This was the most serious situation they could find themselves in, and Scvott couldn’t seem to realise what was so urgent. Even Flynn and Dyllion could sense that they had seen something bad. “Scvott, I wish you’d get this through your thick head: there is a Daemon loose on Seadelant, and it changes everything.”

“And I wish you’d get this through your thick head Oll: there are no such things as Daemons. All you saw was some Ork psyker, and confused it for a Daemon. Would you even know a daemon from an Ork psyker if you saw one?”

Yes I would. Yes I do. I’ve been told by the most powerful psykers in the galaxy what a Daemon is like. He wanted to say these things, but he couldn’t. They all knew him as Oll, not Julius, and he couldn’t reveal his true self to them now, least of all to Summer. It would be a betrayal, and he cared too deeply for her to want to inflict that on her. 
His shame at lying to them mixed with his anger at Scvott’s reluctance to believe him, provoking an outburst of rage. Julius lunged, grabbed Scvott’s shirtfront and pulling him forwards, screamed into his face. “Why the hell would we lie to you?! Have the last twenty-eight days meant nothing? If you don’t damn well listen to me, we are all dead. Do you hear me? We will be all dead!”

Scvott started in shock at Julius’s outburst, but he wasn’t finished. “They obviously haven’t taught you about the warp here. Daemons are real; they exist in the Warp as the servants of the Primordial Annihilator. Surely you know about Chaos, right?” Scvott nodded weakly. “If one is here on Seadelant, then it means the darker powers have an interest in this planet. That means any number of scenarios could be occurring. The Daemon could be here to harvest souls, or it could be here to corrupt people into worshipping its fell masters. Or it might be trying to unleash a Daemonic incursion, a never-ending tide of Daemons which will flood this world and put it to the sword. And there’s countless other things which could happen, each more nightmarish than the last. Do you understand me? Do you understand me?!”
Suddenly he felt Summer gently taking his hands, prising him off Scvott. Her touch immediately banished the storm of anger which had burst from him.

“Oll’s right. If you ignore this, then we all suffer. The planet suffers. Hell, the entire Imperium could suffer. Are you willing to have that on your conscience?”

Scvott reached for his hip flask, went to drink from it, then changed his mind and set it down. “Do they teach you about this on Calth?” he asked. Julius nodded. “They never did here. All we learnt was that Chaos was the eternal enemy of the Emperor, and you had to stand against it. Nothing about Daemons or that sort of thing. There’s so much I don’t know.”

“There’s a reason for that Scvott. There’s plenty out there that by all rights we shouldn’t know about, the darker places deliberately left unexplored. And yet we try to find out anyway, ignoring the dangers and warning signs. The darker places are darker places for a reason.” That was something his father had told him, and he had been told that by his friend, John Grammaticus. It had always stuck in Julius’s mind, a piece of advice man had not heeded, and because of that it got into trouble time and time again. And yet they never learnt.

“There’s only one being on this planet who knows the truth about Daemons, and who will know what to do about this one. The Astartes commander, Ahzek Ahriman. He’s the chief librarian of the XVth Legion, so he will know what to do about a Daemon.” He didn’t want to have to face Lord Ahriman, not only because they would find out who he really was, but also the whole business of the Petitioner’s City still lay over them both. He was only now finally getting over it, overcoming his failure and he didn’t want to slide back into despair.

“We have to get the news about the Daemon to him.”

“Oll, we have no radios, flare guns or any other form of remote communication. There’s at least two million Orks infesting the outer city between us and the Walls. The sewers have all been sealed up as well, and we can’t sail around due to the mines. What do you propose we do?” Scvott was right of course. The defenders had sealed themselves in well, Professor Ahriman’s doing no doubt.

“Oll, there’s something else. When we found you were both gone, Flynn set out to find you. Instead he found something bad. Very bad. Tell them Flynn.”

Flynn took over. “Ah was skirting the camp by sector two, when I came across something in that small park at the hub of the crossroads there. Nearly a hundred Orks clustered around something in the centre of the park. I got as close as I dared, and I managed to identify it. An ex-Imperial Mole class tunnelling machine captured by the Orks somewhere. It looks like they’re going to try and tunnel their way under the walls, bypass the defending troops.”
Things were going from bad to worse. If the Orks were trying this tactic, it meant they had finally lost patience with the defenders. 

“They’ll be trying to keep it a secret. If the troops on the walls find out, they will shell it to oblivion. We must be the only ones that know.” Summer added.

“We have to destroy it. If we don’t then the Orks will tunnel through and overrun the city from within.”
As they discussed ways to destroy the mole, the germ of an idea filtered into Julius’s head. At first, he rejected it as insane, but it wouldn’t go away, and as they continued around him it grew and grew as more ideas poured into it. Finally he abruptly interjected.

“Flynn, do you have a chart showing the underground of the city? Where all the pipes are?”
Flynn went off to get it, as the others looked at him. “What idiotic scheme are you cooking up this time Oll?” Dyllion asked. “Trying to get us into the inner city?”

“No. I know how we can take out that mole, and get the news to Pro…Lord Ahriman at the same time.”
Comprehension dawned on the others. “Are you suggesting we steal the tunnelling machine and dig to the inner city ourselves?” Julius nodded at Dyllion’s question.

“Oll, I hate to see the obvious flaw in your idea, but if we tunnel into the inner city, won’t the Orks simply follow us into the city? We’d be doing their dirty work for them.” Scvott replied.

“Not exactly.” Flynn re-entered the room with a faded old map. Julius checked it, noting several areas of piping and a few seams of untouched earth. Finally he saw an opening, a chance however small, and he knew they had to capitalise on it. Pointing to the map, he began. “If we tunnel into here, and then follow this pipeline along here and here, we can fool the Orks; make them get lost in the underground trying to find where we have gone. And as they try to find their way out, we can tunnel straight for Huron’s square.”
The others followed his traced path, and examined his plan. Scvott was the first one to speak. “It just might work Oll. If we can work out how to make the damn thing go…”

“I can make it go.” They all turned and looked at Flynn. “Didn’t you see me examining those Trukks we destroyed? I was trying to see how they operate. It seems simple enough. And the vehicle was Imperial once; some of the old controls will still remain.”
The rest of the day passed in a blur as they made detailed plans. They would hit it at night; use the cover of darkness to keep the Orks confused. They couldn’t do it tonight, they would go tomorrow night. It would be do or die; they would either capture or destroy the mole, or die trying. Julius hoped for the former.

That evening Julius found himself standing outside Summer’s room again. He’d been doing this with her ever since their first raid, but now it was different. Now he could no longer trust himself around her, not after his moment of weakness. He’d already done it once, could he stop himself from doing it again?

As if reading his thoughts, the door and Summer smiled out at him. “I’m not going to bite Oll, nor am I going to jump you. It’s safe, come on in.”

They sat together, saying their prayers. But while yesterday he had been thanking his god for victory, today he was asking for protection, protection from the Daemon and the spawn of hell. Much had changed in twenty-four hours. He had lost his virginity, seen a Daemon and set in motion a final ditch plan to send a warning. Thinking back over that, he remembered how he had almost hurt Scvott, and how Summer had stopped him. “Summer, thanks for stopping me from hurting Scvott. I don’t know what came over me.” He said.

“You may be your girlfriend’s naysmith back on Calth, but it seems I am your naysmith right here Oll.” She caught on really quick. She didn’t stop though, her voice cracked as she continued.

“Oll, when I saw that Daemon I felt like an icicle had been stabbed straight into my heart, like the mere presence of that Daemon was infecting my soul, tainting it with something unspeakable. It was polluting the universe simply by existing. We have to destroy that foul thing.” Julius completely agreed with her, he had felt the same way. Its presence was toxic, a foul taint in the air it was possible to taste. Maybe it felt different for someone of faith to be in the presence of such a thing, compared to normal people. How would Scvott, Flynn or Dyllion have reacted if they had seen it? 

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep tonight. I fear that thing is waiting for me, and if I try to sleep it will find out that we know, read our dreams and destroy us. Can Daemons do that?”

He didn’t know, but he hoped not. Ahriman would know, and he would know what to do as well; he would easily be able to send it screaming back into hell where it belonged.

Her next question took him by surprise.

“Stay with me tonight Oll. Keep me company, help keep the Daemon away. Please?”

He couldn’t ignore the pleading tone in her voice, and he knew that he himself would probably be plagued with nightmares brought about by the Daemon as well. He stripped down, ever mindful this time. It had been easy to ignore his baser instincts when he wasn’t partaking in them himself, but now his dormant sex drive had been fired up and he was thinking and feeling things he would rather have not. A wise old Terran had once written that ‘God had given man a brain and a dick, and only enough blood to use one at a time.’ He’d always liked that saying, and now it had come true on him, he hoped he could keep the blood in his brain, where it belonged. He lay down on the cramped little cot, and waited for her to slip in beside him. The cot creaked under their combined weights, but it had already proven it could hold both of them. They lay together in silence, Julius trying to keep as much distance between them as he could without seeming rude.

“You know Oll; I almost went to Imperator High on Terra. I was accepted there, but my parents wanted me to take over their trading empire, and so had me home-tutored instead. I heard Lord Ahriman taught there.”
Julius shifted uncomfortably. What was she insinuating? Did she know, or suspect something? There was silence for a second, and then she changed the subject.

“I could have leant alongside the Daughters Oll. Imagine that, being beside the very blood of the Emperor. Of course, I would never have found my faith if that had happened, and I can’t imagine myself now without my faith. Could you imagine yourself without your faith?”

“No.”

He could almost see her smiling. “That makes two of us. Now we sleep, maybe for the last time. Hopefully not. Either way, I’m glad you’re here. Goodnight Oll, keep the Daemons away.”

She snuggled down and closed her eyes. As he lay beside her, feeling the warmth of her body beside his, he was reminded of how Lady Venus was also lit with an internal fire, but while hers was real, a quirk of her unique genetics, Summers was spiritual, a reflection of her deeply held beliefs. It was comforting, all the same. Throwing caution to the wind he snuggled close into her, pulling her into him and embracing her warmth. He buried his head in her long blonde hair and closed his eyes. That night, he slept more soundly and deeply than he’d done so in months, and the Daemon never came.



The tombs of the ancient kings of Gyptus had a saying carved upon their doors: ‘Death comes on swift wings to those who disturb the king’s rest’, and as Ahriman peered over the newly deployed Deathstrikes, he decided that saying had never been as apt as it was now. The greenskin filth had disturbed his rest, and now he was about to bring down fire and destruction upon them on a colossal scale.
The two launchers were positioned in the centre of Huron’s square in the heart of the inner city. The Caorst Charxer troopers were positioned around them in case of Ork air attack or infiltrating Kommandoes. They had only one shot at this, and Ahriman would be literally damned if he was going to let this one slide.

Seeing them in person for the first time, he was amazed how the small driving sections were able to carry the payload. The Chimera chassis seemed almost crushed beneath the massive rockets they carried. Beside them, fuel bowsers struggled to tank the rockets up ready for lift-off. Ahriman had already had a go at the head technician, and his claim the rockets wouldn’t be ready for launch for at least twenty-four hours. He’d scared the man half to death with his demands the rockets be ready in no more than eighteen hours.
Now that he had agreed to their deployment, a savage joy had made its home inside him. All his previous doubts were forgotten, washed away by the certainty that now he would be the one in control of his fate, and the fate of this world. Once he had disliked the Word Bearers for the absolute certainty that filled them, but now having suffered the curse of doubt for so many weeks he wished he had that gift, and was glad of this one certainty, certainty that tomorrow the greenskins would suffer under the power of two mushroom shaped clouds of death.
He still had that nagging feeling that the survivors outside the inner walls were important, but his gut feeling had been wrong before, he wasn’t going to listen to it again. The Graf was right on this count. He may have disliked the woman as a glory-hound who wanted her reputation to come out of this greater than when she went in, but her words rang true. Thousands had already died under the onslaught, and thousands more would die if he did not act now. Whoever those survivors were, he had to weigh them up against the survival of the planet, and that was no contest at all. They would have to die so that the planet would live.

“My Lord, the troops have commenced redeployment as per your commands. We’ve pulled much of the troops back from the walls, so they appear undermanned.” That was a Sous-lieutenant of the Caorst Charxers; he had been spending most of his time with that particular regiment recently. When the Ork horde was smashed and reeling, they would launch a localised offensive to clear the Orks away from the outer walls, show them that their foes were no push-over. He would lead them in person, so he was trying to acclimatise himself to them now.

“Very good Sous-lieutenant. If the Orks think the walls are thinly manned, them they will mass all their forces for the final assault. That is when we launch, and send the Orks to eternity, and worse.” He’d carefully planned that one out as they calibrated the warheads. If the Orks took the bait, it would increase the casualty rates among them by at least sixty percent or more. That would be another six million dead Orks.

“And well deserved too. Give the Greenskin skum a taste of what the Imperium can do, yes?” the man’s aura flashed red as he spoke, red with vindictive glee. Every Imperial soldier he had spoken to had done the same. Deploying the Deathstrikes had caused a market rise in morale. Now the Imperium could at last hit back, hit back hard. He heard something coming from behind him, and he turned to notice a figure cutting through the assembled troops towards him.

“Here she comes, miss holier-than-thou.” The Sous-lieutenant shrugged, the exaggerated Gallic shrug the Caorst were famous for, descended from their Frac forebears on Terra.

The Graf again, and now there was a massive smile on her face. She would try to take all the credit of course, in her mind her appointment as next planetary governor was all but assured. She was so simple to read, but Ahriman didn’t care anymore. She could rule all of Ultima Segmentum for all he cared, he just wanted to win this war, and head for Angelus. Somewhere so far the Astronomican was almost impossible to see, the utter limit of the Imperium, where he would be utterly alone with himself. He wondered if there would be any trace of the great triumph held there, anything left of the last hurrah of the Great Crusade, the last time he had felt at peace with himself.

“Lord Ahriman, I see you are admiring our secret weapon. When will we be launching?” her words brought him back to the present. He turned to face her, extending his aura to remind her who was in charge.
“The firing technicians have promised me both weapons will be ready to fire in eighteen hours or approximately six hundred hours tomorrow morning. The perfect wake up call, wouldn’t you say?”

“Of course my Lord, two hundred kilotonnes of fiery death is the best wake-up call we could ever give the greenskin scum.”
No matter how much he disliked her, he could never disagree with that.

“Tomorrow, we bring death on wings of fire to the foe. After thirty days of despoiling this planet, we will get a chance to hit back. It might win us the war without any foreign intervention at all, but I doubt that. However it will ensure the Orks won’t be able to assault us again for many weeks, if not months. The Liberation fleet should arrive well within that time.”

“You see my Lord, my judgements can be sound.”
He wished he could agree with that, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not shake the feeling that something ghastly would happen, when those warheads landed among the foe. He could not and would not stop it now; he would just have to face the consequences when they came.