Editing Trip Into Hell (Warhammer High) (section)

===Salvation from the Stars===
The Klaxon howled throughout the ship, its hollow echo reverberating throughout the bridge as the massed fleet of warships and troopships emerged from the seething tempest of the immaterium in a blaze of energy. Plasmic wisps from the Warp continued to linger around the ships as they sped forth into material space.

Sitting on his command throne, he listened as reports came in from the other ships in his fleet, ensuring no ships were lost or scattered. A ship was at its most vulnerable in the moments immediately after re-entering normal space, when its power levels were still in flux and the energy burst of its warp exit broadcast its existence and position to any other vessel in the system. Entry was also critical to a battle, too close and you were likely to be destroyed before you could return fire, too far and you gave the enemy ample time to prepare for your arrival and lost the ever-critical element of surprise. He had always been a master of tactics.

His ship was the Ullanor, an Emperor-Class Command-Carrier Battleship which had once been the flagship of the famous Lord Commander Gustav Von Vitterriecvht, commander of the legendary forty-thirty-forth Imperial Army. Though the Lord Commander, who had fought in the entire crusade from beginning to end, had died many years ago his legacy of conquest lived on in the Ullanor, and the commander knew this.

Cruising beside his flagship was a battleship which surpassed even the Ullanor, with a prow sheathed in dark ocean green. It moved as a dagger might in the hand of an assassin, slow but inescapable, inexorable. Unlike most Imperial warships, all gaudily decorated, it bore only two decorations: a golden spread eagle with two heads across the face of the flying bridge and a great icon made of heavy nickel-iron ore, a single stone skull set inside a hollow steel ring in the shape of a star, at the very tip of the prow, watchful and threatening. The Endurance, Flagship of the XIV Legion.

Behind her came more of her kind, Legion ships ranging in class, size and colour both larger and smaller: the Indomitable Will, Barbarus’s Sting, Gotthammar, Sanctity of Saramanth, Epsilon, Spear of Sedros, Benthos, Shield of Sanguinius, Iron Tide and more, and this was excluding the regular naval vessels like the Ullanor. Ships from no fewer than twelve of the Astartes Legions were present; a total of fifty ships all up. A combined fleet like this hadn’t been gathered since the Crusade had ended.

“My Lord, the fleet has arrived in-system without mishap. All ships are accounted for. ETA to Seadelant, twenty-five minutes.” The aide nervously told to the figure on the throne as he checked a dataslate to ensure there had been no mishaps in translation. The last thing they needed were literal ghosts in the machine caused by warp entities.

“Very good. Very good indeed, we arrived in precisely the right place. Have the Astropaths attempt to establish contact with the surface immediately, and patch me through to the Endurance. Our Lord will want to be informed.” The man rose from his throne, unplugging several implants as he did so and strode down the steps of his throne towards the data-projector. He tapped a few buttons to bring up a series of tactical projections, and then turned to face an as yet unarrived presence.

There was flickering crackle of energy and Lord Mortarion of the Death Guard towered before him, his presence undiminished even though he was an electronic ethereal figure. His image faded in and out of focus, occasionally dividing in the bizarre mitosis of distance distortion. He lowered the blade of his Manreaper scythe in greeting, which was in itself a warmer hail than the man had been expecting. Several seconds later, the figure of Ezekyle Abaddon, first Captain of the Sons of Horus materialised beside Mortarion and a split second later was joined by Phosis T’kar of the Thousand Sons and Zichar Ir'Sem of the Salamanders. Such hallowed company would bend most people in awe, but this man wasn’t most people. He nodded his head briefly and then cut straight to the point.

“My Lord Primarch, my Lord Captains, the fleet has arrived in full and is preparing for attack pattern Zulu even as we speak. Long ranged scanners are probing the enemy for tactical data, and our astropaths are trying to raise the surface and see who remains there. All is present and correct, and the fleet stands ready. What are your orders?”

“Admiral Kulenka, your entry has been most satisfactory.” Mortarion rasped. “Once again you prove yourself as the best commander in Battlefleet Solar.”

“My Lord Primarch is generous. Have you seen my tactical calculations?”

“We all have.” That was Abaddon. “As thorough as always. We see no need for you to modify your plans; you know exactly what you are doing.”

“My Lord, before we commence operations, I must ask you about the chain of command. Will you leave to lead the ground elements, or will you stay and command from the Endurance?”
“Admiral, I shall be commanding the ground effort in person, so you will be in full command of the space battle. All Legion ships will obey your orders as if you were the Warmaster himself.”

Kulenka blinked, the simple act concealing a flurry of emotions. It was extremely rare for a navy commander of any rank to be given command of Legion vessels; in fact it hadn’t happened since the Crusade had ended. He nodded, his mind racing about how the various Legion ships, in particular the Gotthammar from the VI Legion and the Thunderer from the XII Legion, would take a regular human commanding them.

Kulenka had one more point to make. “I must remind my Lord, we are now within the range of the Hulk’s Psy-ECM. We will have no way of communicating with Terra or anywhere else until the Hulk is destroyed.”

“Then destroy it Admiral. You are known as the best at Hulk busting, there are four killed Hulks to your name. We all have full faith in your abilities.” The figures cut out.
Kulenka made a few more checks, before returning to his throne. As he plugged himself back in, he was reminded of the weight of responsibility now resting on his shoulders. He’d occasionally commanded a single legion ship of two during joint actions, but never this many. Never from this many legions. But he was Kulenka. Cold and calculating Kulenka, the star of Battlefleet Solar. If anyone could pull this off, it would be him.

“Send this message to the fleet. Load all weapons and Torpedoes, and ensure all fighters and bombers are fuelled and ready to fly. The Hulk dies today. Ave Imperator!”