Steel & Oil: Warhammer 32K

Past the last Thunderhawk gunship lifting off, Vladilena found Lin in the command centre, which was now staffed by only a skeleton crew of auxiliary personnel.

The bulk of the front line was held by the underhive army, with the Space Marines kept in the rear as a breakthrough force for critical chokepoints and a fire brigade to meet enemy assaults.

But starting today, the suddenly increasing reports of contact with daemons had run the mere three hundred Space Marines ragged. No sooner had they finished purging the daemons at one location than they had to rush to the next battlefield—even the Chapter's command echelon was personally leading squads to plug gaps in the line.

The report Neos had sent back came as a pleasant surprise to Lin. It was the first time the underhive's inhabitants had repelled the daemons on their own, without the aid of the Space Marines.

The Inquisitor they had escorted back was also an important former ally of Lin's. Now that she had arrived safely, she could offer him at least some remaining value.

"You look a bit rough," Lin remarked to Vladilena, who was clad in Ignatus-pattern power armour. For once, it was his turn to comment on someone else's sorry state.

This power armour, made specifically for Inquisitors, cost considerably more to produce than even a Space Marine's armour, each suit bearing unique engravings denoting the identity of its wearer.

But most of the ornamentation on Lena's armour had been ruined—even the mark of the Inquisition had been rubbed indistinct.

"If you'd ever experienced being hunted by over a hundred daemons and a sorcerer, you'd understand that just staying alive is already hard enough," Lena said without ceremony. "And all of this traces back to you having me sound out the planetary governor."

"I thought I was merely assisting an Inquisitor with her work. So? How did the sounding-out turn out?"

"My servant was discovered by that Chaos-fallen steward before he could even get near him. Still, I detected no intent in him to resist—under such circumstances, he can already be regarded as an accomplice to those fallen to Chaos."

"Perhaps that was merely his disguise?"

"That won't stop me from killing him along with the rest when the time comes."

Lin admired her blunt, direct thinking. "With you as you are now?"

"With your army as support, of course. I heard long ago that you've been thriving down in the underhive." Lena's gaze slid over to the Evil Sun weapon shrouded in a broad red robe off to the side. "Though I've no idea where you got that weapon."

"An Inquisitor can't know everything. Besides, the people are mine, and the weapons are mine too. You think you can wheedle something out of my hands with nothing but talk?"

Lin tossed the traitor Inquisitor's diary to her. "As things stand, it's still your Inquisition that owes me."

Lena's eyes skimmed over Wudier's diary at ten lines a glance, and when she reached the later portions, her face twisted into a knot just as Lin's had at the time. "Isstvaanian..."

"That's right. Those madmen who believe that hardship builds a nation. Your Inquisition truly does produce talent by the score—any random Inquisitor who leaps out can bring us this much trouble."

Knowing she was in the wrong, Lena said nothing more. But she tossed out a data disc, gesturing for Lin to examine its contents.

Lin took the disc. Inside was the intelligence Lena had gathered. Among the information was the location where the sacrifice ritual was being held in the midhive, along with the movements of the Battle Moon.

He first checked the location of the sacrifice ritual, and found it had been placed in a manufactorum stratum between the midhive and the lower hive. The cultists had already exploited the complex factory terrain there to construct a defensive line, ensuring the sacrifice ritual within could proceed uninterrupted.

The core of the ritual was a chapel that had once been used to preach the Imperial Creed. Countless tormented mortal souls were being absorbed there by Tzeentchian daemons, becoming the fuel that helped them summon more daemons into the material realm.

The power of the Warp at Port Sanctus was not yet sufficient to reduce this world to a daemon world, but if left unchecked, a daemon army would soon muster here.

This information effectively clarified their next direction of advance.

Lin looked to the second piece of information. It stated that the Imperial fleet that had come to reinforce Port Sanctus was currently refitting in the orbit of the neighbouring planet where a shipyard was located, with no intention whatsoever of attacking the orks or coming to reinforce Port Sanctus.

Lin was not surprised by this, but the movements of the ork fleet caught his attention.

The orks had never had anything to do with the words "organised" or "disciplined." Having arrived in a star system with virtually no resistance, most orks would choose to scatter and go pillaging.

But right now, the ork fleet was clustered on both flanks of the Battle Moon. Against all their usual character, they were massed together, pushing forward in tight formation alongside the Battle Moon.

The Battle Moon still maintained a slow, steady pace, sailing straight ahead.

The heavy blow it had earlier taken from the Star Fort still hadn't been repaired. Lin could see in the imaging the thick black smoke billowing out from its cracked crust, spreading all the way past the atmosphere before dissipating.

The Inquisitor's intelligence identified this situation as the orks protecting the wounded Battle Moon. But Lin, who had previously fought the orks on Cath Maximus, could assert with certainty that these orks were absolutely not guarding the Battle Moon to await the completion of its repairs.

Analysing the restless trajectories of these fleets, Lin felt that whatever drove them was not the command of a Warboss.

Every single ork warship was itching to move. The Battle Moon they had clustered around, rather than being their object of protection, looked more like their target.

"At this speed, they'll reach Port Sanctus in about a week... What does the Navy have to say about this situation?"

"According to those relaying the intelligence back, Lansong is planning to simply abandon this place."

If the ork fleet were dispersed, the Admiral naturally wouldn't mind trading a few blows with them, so as not to withdraw to Terra empty-handed.

But now that the orks had clumped together into a main battle fleet and were advancing, Lansong—who had already replenished a fair amount of resources—was unwilling to expend these precious supplies on a head-on clash with the orks where victory was uncertain.

Lin pondered for a moment, weighing the orks' strange movements. "I wouldn't say victory is out of the question... Come to think of it, since you can gather intelligence from across the cosmos, why can't you transmit the situation here outward?"

"Lansong won't change his actions just because he knows the actual situation at Port Sanctus, and doing so would expose the Inquisition's informants within the Imperial Navy."

More internal Imperial scheming. Lin sighed. "Things inside the Imperium are always so wretched."

His considerations could only descend from the state of the void war back down to the planet. "But if we can't hold the void war, why should we fight to the death on a world that's doomed to fall?"

Lin felt that using a swift assault to knock out the orbital defences so the three cruisers could pick them up was the most reliable idea at present, but Lena did not agree.

"The Inquisition's bottom line is not letting Port Sanctus become a daemon world. Even if it's taken by the orks, that's better than being infested by Chaos. We can't guarantee whether this world will be dragged into the Warp before the orks even arrive. A world taken by orks can still be reclaimed; a world taken by Chaos means we lose this gateway world forever."

"Don't you think your demands are a bit too complicated?"

"Beyond our prior support for your personal decisions, we will trade our support for the Ultimate Wall in the Council of High Lords in exchange for your actions."

Lena's words landed with weight; clearly she had prepared for this. Lin raised an eyebrow, not expecting that the Inquisition—an organisation that wished to dig up every little secret of every Chapter—could put such a price on the table.

For Lin, who was now bound to the Ultimate Wall in shared ruin and shared glory, this price was rather satisfactory.

"Then we have a deal."

Lin did not tell Kurande and the others about the agreement he had reached with the Inquisitor.

These warriors were willing to sacrifice themselves for the Imperium without any exchange of interests from the Inquisition, which placed them at a natural disadvantage in the Imperium's internal calculations of gain.

Lin decided to fully exploit this exchange of interests himself, and would simply tell them the results afterward.

Doing so would both satisfy his own needs and not shortchange these sons of Dorn. Though it might be a touch immoral, Lin had his own unspoken difficulties.

He summoned the commanders of the Ultimate Wall to his command post, along with the Planetary Defence Force Colonel and Neos. Drawing on the intelligence the Inquisitor had provided him, Lin began to lay out this final all-out assault for everyone.

"The site where the enemy is conducting the sacrifice ritual is an Imperial Creed chapel in the manufactorum stratum. The Planetary Defence Force remaining on this world has been corrupted, and they've built a defensive line in the ruins of the manufactorum. Our task is to punch through this line and stop the ritual from taking place."

The mission was not hard to understand, only its difficulty was a world apart from before. Compared to the earlier peacekeeping-style sweeps against daemon-beguiled civilians, this would be the first time the underhive army encountered a well-trained opponent.

Lin spread his hands, and the holographic terrain map was enlarged by him, displaying the factory structure scouted out by the Felynes.

"The corrupted Defence Force has arranged two main defensive lines along the factory. Most of them are manipulated from behind by daemons, and here we're bound to encounter those daemons that never fight head-on. What must be noted is that the production equipment in the factory has already been corrupted by those Chaos Cultists. Slowly, yes, but they are indeed producing some half-man, half-machine daemon engines."

"Any other key points?" Kurande asked.

"Of course. This is, after all, a sacrifice ritual—the more people die on the battlefield, the faster their ritual progresses. If we don't want that Imperial Creed chapel to become a permanent Warp anchor before we arrive, then we must minimise all unnecessary casualties."

"We will be the spearhead of the assault," Thorne said. It was not a matter for discussion, but a decision taken for granted.

"You will of course be the main force of the assault."

Lin adjusted a Servo-skull, presenting the subsequent plan before everyone's eyes. "But before the all-out assault, we must first, while avoiding casualties, uproot the surrounding strongholds held by the beguiled civilians—these casualties being not only ours, but also those of the civilians. Only by uprooting these strongholds can the underhivers spread out on the front line proper and pin down the corrupted Planetary Defence Force and the daemons."

"You are to break in while they're pinned down, and end their sacrifice ritual before casualties on the outer battlefield escalate. Inquisitor Vladilena and Priest Issaga will join the battle once you've secured control of the chapel's outer perimeter."

"They will then use their own knowledge to stop that ritual alongside you. I will first take charge of commanding the troops, minimising our casualties as far as possible while... standing guard against any unexpected developments."

"Unexpected developments?" Admidel pressed. Compared to attacking alongside the Ultimate Wall, he was clearly more worried about Lin's safety. "Do you need us to leave some men behind?"

"No need to worry—just leave the necessary garrison force. If all goes well, I may be able to reach the battlefield together with the Inquisitor and the Librarian."

The plan was thorough, but time was the problem. The Servo-skull calculated that the preliminary preparations for sweeping the strongholds while avoiding casualties would take about six days—and that time was just enough for the Battle Moon to arrive directly overhead.

Yet not one person, including the Colonel and Neos, raised any question about the time.

Seeing that no one raised any objections, Lin clapped his hands, signalling the plan to begin. But Neos, who had intended to leave, was kept behind by Lin, who meant to speak with him alone.

"I received a report that you personally led a squad to repel a group of daemons."

"Only one, my lord."

"That is still a feat no one else could accomplish."

Lin sized up this seemingly unremarkable middle-aged man. This fellow, chosen by Lin merely for being the first among the underhivers to stand up, had indeed come to surprise him somewhat.

He intended to further forge this man into the spiritual leader of the underhive—and of the entire mortal legion. For that, he would need to produce something more symbolic.

He beckoned to the Felynes at his side. Tom the cat and his companions, prepared in advance, came running while carrying a Power Sword. They handed this gold-painted Power Sword to Lin, who turned it over in his hands for a moment, then passed it to Neos.

He noticed a flicker of astonishment cross Neos's expression. That was only natural—after all, the Black Sword was never meant for mortals to wield.

"This sword is named... the Golden Sword," Lin improvised offhandedly. "They say only one chosen by the Emperor can wield this weapon."

The Black Sword had sat in his hands for ages and he still hadn't figured anything out about it. Since that was the case, he simply changed the colour of this Black Sword to imitate the legendary Emperor's blade, and handed it to Neos to use for the time being as a symbol.

Each of the ten Black Swords had a different design, and this one was relatively small. Even though it was not designed for mortals, Neos, clad in his CMC powered suit, could just barely grip it.

"This weapon..." Neos was clearly hesitant. He wanted to push the weapon back, but was refused by Lin.

"I hope you and this weapon can become a spiritual symbol. If you encounter a daemon during battle, feel free to draw this weapon and give it a try."

Having said this much, Neos clearly could refuse no longer. He could only accept the Black Sword. "This is my honour, my lord."

With the Black Sword's destination arranged, Lin's preparations were thoroughly complete. From the third day onward, the Battle Moon—whose silhouette could already be seen—became their countdown.

The Inquisitor kept bringing Lin fresh intelligence. It was said the orks had simply ignored the planet with the shipyard and the Solar Fleet, and were rushing straight for Port Sanctus in a mad frenzy.

The underhivers, meanwhile, led by the Space Marines, demolished most of the strongholds. Aside from a portion of unavoidable casualties, these civilians—first beguiled by daemons, then brought back to their senses under the iron fists of the Astartes—were all thrown into the Evil Sun weapon workshop, becoming free forced labour.

Among them had mixed in some cultists of Tzeentch. They had meant to wreck the weapon production line, but upon witnessing the weapon production process, they were all utterly dumbfounded.

"How on earth are these weapons even produced?!"

The underhanded tricks they had planned to use were rendered useless before an even more sinister method of production. In the end, every problem returned to the clash on the front line proper.

When the Battle Moon had grown to roughly the size of the moon as seen from Port Sanctus, the barrage of penetrating shockwave cannons lifted the curtain on the assault.

Meeting the gaze of Lancelot beside him, who now and then turned his head to glance over, Neos drew the Black Sword. He pointed its gold-painted tip toward the factory ruins where figures flickered faintly, and, in his capacity as colonel, issued the order for the all-out assault to the underhivers.

"We advance!"

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