Editing
Trip Into Hell (Warhammer High)
(section)
Jump to navigation
Jump to search
Warning:
You are not logged in. Your IP address will be publicly visible if you make any edits. If you
log in
or
create an account
, your edits will be attributed to your username, along with other benefits.
Anti-spam check. Do
not
fill this in!
===The War in the Air=== The kiss of the upper atmosphere shook the Stormbird as it tore down towards the landing zone. Nathaniel Garro of the Death Guard felt the craft vibrating around him, grateful for the restraint harness that held him fast to his cage seat. Libertas, his famed greatsword sat belted at his hip and there was nothing to do but wait until the Stormbird touched down and the assault began. This was one of the most stressful parts of the fight, as there was nothing he could do until the ship landed; he was helpless if something went wrong with the Stormbird while it was still in the air. He slowed his breathing and cleared his mind of all distractions, feeling a warm and pleasant surge fill his body as his armour prepared his metabolism for the imminent battle. Around him, the hulking forms of his best first company veterans sat, waiting for the order to fight. He had been first captain for nearly five hundred years, ever since Captain Typhon had been killed by that Jorgall monster during the purge of the bottle world several centuries before the end of the Crusade. The rank, second only to the Primarch Himself still filled him with pride, pride that the last of the Dusk Raiders was so trusted to be made the Primarch’s red right hand. He had more or less led the Legion for the past eighteen years, but he was happy to delegate that responsibility back to whom it truly belonged. “Steel your souls my brothers. I want a clean and fast deployment. I want it so sharp the Emperor himself would applaud its perfection!” He took a breath as the standby alert began to wail. “Today the Primarch leads us, and we will make him proud to do so! For Mortarion and Terra!” ‘Mortarion and Terra!’ Garro heard Veteran Sergeant Aron’s rough baritone leading the chorus of assent. His voice reminded him of Sergeant Hakur, now long dead. Everyone he had known was long dead. Decius, Temeter, Voyen, Rahl, Sender, even Grulgor his former rival, all were now lost to time. He was the last of the old Legion. He disliked the term ‘old ninety’ as it sounded patronising and he refused all exultation, but he couldn’t avoid the fact that out of the ten thousand Dusk Raiders who had left Terra, he was the only one left, the only one who still remembered their name and mantra, the red right arm of the Emperor. That abruptly reminded him of why the Primarch now led them into battle after so many years, what had motivated him to take up the Manreaper and the Lantern again. In some ancient cultures the shedding of blood was a cleansing act, and Lord Mortarion needed to purge the rage from his system, after what had happened with his daughter. Garro had been on Barabus when he had heard the news, and he had immediately sent the condolences of the Legion to their lord and master. It was as much a wound to the Legion as a whole as it was to the lady Morticia, and though they could do nothing to the one responsible they could take out their anger on the Greenskins below. Though they were mindless Xenos, Garro felt a sliver of pity for them. At the briefing, Lord Mortarion had simmered with anger, anger Garro knew he felt for the one called Keiter. Keiter was beyond his reach, but these Orks weren’t and they would taste his wrath. Suddenly a near impact shook the Stormbird and the sound of shrapnel pinged of its flanks. Garro pulled himself to his feet and moved down the spinal aisle of the Stormbird, clutching onto the low, overhead handrails and he went. He nodded to the Death Guard Veterans in their Mk IV or Terminator Plate as they impassively sat waiting for the order to go. Though he was first captain he didn’t usually wear Terminator plate, it was too slow and bulky for his tastes. The bird rocked and shuddered as another near miss shook it. He reached the cockpit section and wrenched open the hatch. Two flight officers sat back to back, facing wall panel consoles, and beyond them two pilot servitors lay, hardwired into forward-facing helm positions in the cone. The cockpit was dark, apart from the coloured glow of the instrumentation and the sheen of light coming in through the forward slit-ports. “What the hell is firing on us?” he demanded to one of the flight officers. “Gunship sir, Savage Class. It has already downed two Thunderhawks, a Stormbird and an Army Lander, as well as several Thunderbolt fighters. We’re trying evasive manoeuvres.” “Savage Class? That’s frigate sized! How the hell did it sneak up on us?” He’d seen them in action during the Crusade; the Savage Gunship’s short-ranged but incredibly powerful Heavy gunz were more than capable of ripping into a cruiser with vicious ease. Even a glancing hit from one of them would vaporise the Stormbird, and that was ignoring its lighter weapons. “I don’t know sir; it must have followed us through the atmosphere. If we can hold on, we will get low enough so it can’t follow us without risking crashing into the ground.” “But what about the rest of the transport stream? That ship could pick off our transports one by one as they come in.” Garro thought for a second. The safety of the Primarch and the rest of the transport stream was of top priority. Even his own life mattered not if this Gunship had the capability of killing the Primarch’s Stormbird. “Pull the ship up. We’re going to lure the Gunship away from the Transport stream.” “But sir, we could easily get shot down if we do that.” “Are you disobeying my orders?” he reached for Libertas. It was only a bluff, but the flight officer fell for it. “No First Captain. Diverting course now.” He felt the Stormbird lurch as it broke away from the transport stream and flew straight at the Gunship. “Can our missiles dent that thing?” he asked. “I don’t know First Captain. Shall we find out?” Smiling, Garro left the cockpit and went to address his warriors. Briefly he told them of the danger, and of what they were doing. “Are we going to board the gunship?” Veteran Sergeant Aron asked. Garro hadn’t thought of that. He wanted to fight on the ground, alongside his liege-lord and gene sire. But that hardly seemed likely now. He would fight and die up here, where the sky meets the void. He opened the vox-link to the flight officer. “Can you get me a full scan and readout of the Gunship?” “On the way sir. Check your Helmet HUD.” Garro pulled on his Mk IV Helmet, and after a few seconds was rewarded as gun-camera footage was beamed onto his field of vision. Before them the Savage Gunship flew, an ugly brute, boxy, blocky with no aesthetics to it at all. The flat bow was full of massive cannons, most of which appeared to be salvaged Imperial weapons from the space stations destroyed at the very outset of the invasion. Those cannons were made to crack the armour of a capital ship, if they hit the Stormbird there would be nothing left. The ship was turning, trying to get a lock on the twisting and dodging Stormbird, its secondary and flak batteries occasionally firing to no effect. Garro breathed a sigh of relief. It was no longer going after the transport stream. Their distraction had worked. Now they just had to destroy the brute. He had a hundred veterans behind him, and his mind raced as he thought of a way they could board and destroy the Gunship. “First and second Terminator squads will spearhead the boarding action, push on the ships reactor. Fifth and sixth Veteran squads will come with me, hit the bridge. Third and fourth Terminator will hit the engines, seven through ten Veteran will hold the breach so we can escape, raid deeper in to keep the Orks distracted and unaware of our true intentions. Between us we should be able to send the thing down in flames. The Stormbird will harass the ship as we fight, keep it occupied until we can blow it. Remember to activate your boot magnets; we don’t want anyone falling off the ship.” A chorus of fists smacking against plate told Garro they had heard and understood his orders. Other legions would have made a song and dance about receiving orders, but they were Death Guard; they did not need any more than that. “Use the missiles to make a breach in the upper outer hull so we can have access.” He commanded the pilots. A few seconds passed as the Stormbird manoeuvred into position. “Missiles away.” The pilot called out. Next second, there was an almighty crash and the entire ship shook so violently Garro was flung off his feet, the vid feed spluttering and dying in his helmet. “Sir, we’re hit! Major damage to the starboard wing.” The flight officer yelled into the vox. “Can you keep us flying?” Garro spat as he rose to his feet. “I can damn well try.” The Stormbird lurched again as it struggled to remain in the air. One thing was for certain, boarding the Gunship would be suicide now, they would have no way off the Gunship with the Stormbird in this state. Garro had a bad feeling the Stormbird wasn’t going to last very long anyway. “Sir! Unknown contact bearing 037.” The flight officer added yet more fuel to the fire. Was this another Savage? An Onslaught Attack Ship? Something else? “Radio contact from the unknown ship sir, Imperial channels.” “Patch me through.” Garro commanded. For a few seconds there was heavy static, and then a voice punched through. “This is the XVIIIth Legion escort Frigate Iron Tide under the command of Captain Roemer, hailing unknown Legion Stormbird.” “This is XIVth Legion Stormbird 002, under the Command of First Captain Nathaniel Garro. What are you doing in the high atmosphere?” “Engaging and destroying that Gunship First Captain. It broke the picket line and wrecked the Night Lords Frigate Black Shroud. We are engaging it as per the Lord Solar Admiral’s orders.” “Captain, the gunship’s bow batteries will rip your ship in half if they hit you.” “They won’t hit.” The Captain seemed absurdly confident. Garro checked the Stormbird’s vitals, and came to a grim realisation. “Additional: our ship has been crippled by enemy fire, can you landing bay cope with a Stormbird?” “We can try at least. Forward docking bay is yours.” Garro gritted his teeth as the wounded Stormbird limped towards the Frigate Docking bay, the Ork Gunship still sniping at it. All it would take is one hit to finish them off. The frigate loomed large before them, painted in the green and black of the XVIII Legion. Its forward turrets were banging away at the Gunship, return fire impacting against its voids. After several torturous minutes, the ship screamed into the landing bay; smoke pouring from its shattered wing like blood pumping from a wounded man. Garro winced as the Stormbird searched for a place to land; the Frigate’s landing bay was designed for shuttles and a few escort fighters, not for a massive war engine like a Stormbird. There was precious little space within for it. Finally the Stormbird touched with a hard slam, lurching as its skids smacked into the deck. The harness restraints disengaged and the warriors scrambled from their cage seats and hastily retrieve their stowed weaponry as the debarking ramp dropped from the rear of the Stormbird. By now smoke was beginning to fill the inside of the transport, and Garro knew the bird was not going to last very much longer. A damage control team were already outside, pouring foam onto the shattered Stormbird. Garro marched over to their leader, a young Lieutenant. “Lieutenant, make sure to concentrate your efforts on the starboard engine. The fuel line’s been shattered, and it’s likely to go up.” The Lieutenant suddenly noticed the towering Astartes standing beside him, and for a moment he was paralysed, before he threw out a snappy salute and swiftly calling orders to his men. The men half ignored his commands until Garro gestured at them, and then they hustled up. The Lieutenant was obviously no combat officer; this must be his first action and the men were ill used to him. He felt a pang of sympathy, when he had become First Captain many of the veterans had resented him until he had proven himself to them. The Lieutenant would have to do the same. Suddenly an electrical crackle reached Garro’s ears, and he turned to see flames bursting into life inside the Stormbird, forming a barrier which cut the remaining Astartes off from escape. He turned to find the Lieutenant and see if he could provide any help, but he was gone. He turned again to see the Lieutenant fearlessly running towards the burning Stormbird, a personal extinguisher on his back. Though he was dwarfed by the raging fire, he began blasting away at the barrier of flame inside the hold, holding it back as Garro’s Legion Veterans disembarked past him. The paint on their armour was bubbling from the intense heat, and Garro wondered how the Lieutenant was coping with it in there. His bravery was allowing the slower Terminator Veterans to disembark, and Garro counted them off one by one, until he was certain all one hundred of his men and the pilots were safely off. As he did he saw a series of flashes and knew the Stormbird was about to go up. He turned and ran into the Stormbird. He grabbed the Lieutenant and pulled him out of the Stormbird while yelling. “Get down!” Next second the Stormbird exploded in a shrieking fireball, blowing the two out of the Stormbird and clear across the docking bay. Several fighters and shuttles were torn apart by the shrapnel from the Stormbird’s fiery demise, and small fires sprouted all over the landing bay. The Lieutenant had been shielded from the blast by Garro, but there were cuts to his face and arms, and the heat of the fire had left his skin burnt. Garro helped him to his feet. “You...saved me.” He managed to say. “And by your actions earlier you saved a number of my men. The XIV Legion owes you a debt of honour. I am first Captain Nathaniel Garro, and if I have my way there will be a medal for you and your men for your brave actions here. Come with me.” Garro turned and marched towards the bridge, calling out an order to his men. “Brothers, aid the damage control teams. We may be down, but by the Emperor we are not yet out of this fight!”
Summary:
Please note that all contributions to 2d4chan may be edited, altered, or removed by other contributors. If you do not want your writing to be edited mercilessly, then do not submit it here.
You are also promising us that you wrote this yourself, or copied it from a public domain or similar free resource (see
2d4chan:Copyrights
for details).
Do not submit copyrighted work without permission!
Cancel
Editing help
(opens in new window)
Navigation menu
Personal tools
Not logged in
Talk
Contributions
Create account
Log in
Namespaces
Page
Discussion
English
Views
Read
Edit
Edit source
View history
More
Search
Navigation
Main page
Recent changes
Random page
Help about MediaWiki
Tools
What links here
Related changes
Special pages
Page information