Armageddon???? (Part Fifty Up)

[Sidewinder]

I like how the story's progressing, but I wonder: according to most media, Fabrique Nationale ended development of the BRG-15, so it'll be a while before it and its ammo can be mass produced, while the KPV and 14.5 mm ammo are still in production. Can't the RWS be adapted for that weapon? Or is the KPV too heavy?

[Setesh]

Where's the need? Use 'em as intel assets, and maybe later as diplomatic assets, but humans are quite good enough at killing on their own, they don't need to recruit the Queen of Whores to do it for them.

It's not so much to recruit them but to give them a carrot to go with the massive stick we just handed her. The biggest reason she would have to not cooperate with us is sheer fear of being wiped out by the other demons, who already seem to dislike her and her ilk. We certainly can't spare troops to help her if she gets found out, not in large numbers anyway. In traditional subversion fashion we secretly arm an ally, just in case. This also could give her damn good incentive to aid the Liberation, hiding them on her turf when they need to rest.

This also could have benefit in convincing her to send several more succubi to Randi. If the strain of the equipment he's knocked together could be spread around over several demons instead of one it may be far less onerous to use for longer periods. As it is the main limit seems to be the pain threshold of the operator.

[CaptainChewbacca]

Regarding the navigational problems in Hell, now that they have a base camp set up, I think it would probably be a good idea to set up a data-logging module on one of the vehicles (or a UAV, or even an artillery shell if they can get that to work).

If someone can get a nice data plot of distance and direction to the beacon, it should be possible to do a mathematical curve-fit. Even without a real understanding of the physics of Hell, if the curve-fit is predictable (something you can verify by simply trying it many times and seeing if it always follows the same relationship), then you can use it to navigate. Try it in many different directions to see whether the curve fit works in all directions or varies with direction. If it varies, start trying to work up empirical functions for that too. Even if the data only works for a limited region of Hell, that's still better than nothing, and you can make up tables for each region of Hell as you map it out.

Scientists always try to understand the underlying mechanisms. That's wonderful, but engineers have a job to do, so we can't always wait for that. This means an ugly empirical curve-fit is good enough for now. Engineering textbooks are chock full of ugly tables of data for stuff that we can't accurately model from first principles. That hasn't stopped us before, it doesn't stop us now, it shouldn't stop us in Hell.

My only concern would be that if the curvature is inconsistent throughout hell, the only thing to do would be to set up a massive number of checkpoints and basically log every square meter into some sort of database.

I mean, I hope the curvature is consistent, but you can't count on that.

[Darth Wong]

Regarding the navigational problems in Hell, now that they have a base camp set up, I think it would probably be a good idea to set up a data-logging module on one of the vehicles (or a UAV, or even an artillery shell if they can get that to work).

If someone can get a nice data plot of distance and direction to the beacon, it should be possible to do a mathematical curve-fit. Even without a real understanding of the physics of Hell, if the curve-fit is predictable (something you can verify by simply trying it many times and seeing if it always follows the same relationship), then you can use it to navigate. Try it in many different directions to see whether the curve fit works in all directions or varies with direction. If it varies, start trying to work up empirical functions for that too. Even if the data only works for a limited region of Hell, that's still better than nothing, and you can make up tables for each region of Hell as you map it out.

Scientists always try to understand the underlying mechanisms. That's wonderful, but engineers have a job to do, so we can't always wait for that. This means an ugly empirical curve-fit is good enough for now. Engineering textbooks are chock full of ugly tables of data for stuff that we can't accurately model from first principles. That hasn't stopped us before, it doesn't stop us now, it shouldn't stop us in Hell.

My only concern would be that if the curvature is inconsistent throughout hell, the only thing to do would be to set up a massive number of checkpoints and basically log every square meter into some sort of database.

I mean, I hope the curvature is consistent, but you can't count on that.

Have you ever SEEN a book of engineering empirical correlations? That kind of discontinuous function is exactly why we use this method instead of waiting for the damned scientists to come up with something elegant. You can simply break it up into discontinuous portions and either tabulate it all or make discontinuous functions.

Hey, does this metal behave differently from -40C to -20C than it does from -20C to 180C? And then it behaves differently again from 180C to 320C? And then again from 320C to 480C? And there are sharp discontinuities between those regions? Wait, the entire microstructure changes at 320C? Oh well, that's why we tabulate things. Scientists do lovely, elegant work. Engineers don't always have that luxury.

[CaptainChewbacca]

Have you ever SEEN a book of engineering empirical correlations? That kind of discontinuous function is exactly why we use this method instead of waiting for the damned scientists to come up with something elegant. You can simply break it up into discontinuous portions and either tabulate it all or make discontinuous functions.

Hey, does this metal behave differently from -40C to -20C than it does from -20C to 180C? And then it behaves differently again from 180C to 320C? And then again from 320C to 480C? And there are sharp discontinuities between those regions? Wait, the entire microstructure changes at 320C? Oh well, that's why we tabulate things. Scientists do lovely, elegant work. Engineers don't always have that luxury.

I know, discontinuous functions come up alot in large-scale tectonics. I'm just saying that hell isn't necessarily predictible. I think we're agreeing, we're just doing it differently.

[bilateralrope]

I wonder how Satan is going to react to find out that humans have built a fortified base inside hell. Assuming that someone manages to survive to tell him about it.

Especially since he will probably think it was built on site.

[Darth Wong]

I know, discontinuous functions come up alot in large-scale tectonics. I'm just saying that hell isn't necessarily predictible. I think we're agreeing, we're just doing it differently.

It must be predictable on some level. Otherwise, how do its own denizens find their way around?

[Stuart]

Outer Ring, 7th Circle of Hell

The voice was urgent, omnipresent. Corporal Tucker McElroy! Do you hear me?

I hear you! McElroy screamed back in his mind. It wasn't because he realized that he was being contacted via some sort of telepathy; writhing in the river of lava for last month or so had burned his lungs so badly that he couldn't speak, so this was his only option.

You were killed at Hit, correct?

Affirmative! McElroy bellowed back. I'm burning up here, so please, whoever you are, get me out of here. McElroy remembered his manners at the last moment. Pardon my bluntness!

Not at all. My name is kitten. I work for the government. We have been trying to contact all U.S. military personnel killed in action during the first battle with the baldricks. So are you in a fire? Is there a way out?

It’s some sort of river, of lava. I’ve tried to get out but I never make it very far. There are baldrick guards on the banks, sooner or later, one of them comes along and pushes me back in. Are you taking a survey or something?

Please climb out now. We're sending in some cover for you, but you need to be on survivable terrain.

That galvanized McElroy. He would have double-blinked, if his seared eyelids were still functional. He half-leaped, half swam and broke the surface of the lava stream. It wasn't quite liquid, wasn’t quite solid and it was certainly more substantial than flames, so with great effort, he could make his way through it. He didn't know how big the river of flaming lava was, but he couldn't see the far shore, in fact he couldn’t see anything, his eyeballs were also boiled into uselessness. In any case, he’d never ventured out far enough to try. Most people, including him, spent their burning time marshaling enough strength to crawl out onto the shores of the river for a brief respite. Then, a baldrick would come along, stab the unfortunate soul with a trident, or perhaps its claws, and hurl the screaming creature back into the lake.

McElroy lost count of how many times that had happened to him.

On my way! McElroy shouted. I'll let you know when I'm out.

It didn't take long. Panic-driven instinct combined with this glimmer of hope, and he scrambled out of the flames and onto the rocky shores of the lake. Unmindful of the sizzling hunks of flesh and fat that he left on the ground behind him, he crawled ten meters before he collapsed.

Clear!

He just wanted to close his eyes, but of course, he couldn't. He wanted to breathe again, but he couldn't. The agony slowly dimming and to his amazement, his sight was already beginning to return. Dim and shadowy certainly, but returning. That wasn’t necessarily a good thing, he noted with detached amusement that a demon had already spotted him and was closing quickly, bellowing some pointless taunt or curse. Tucker couldn't tell, because his ears were long gone.

Had he dreamed the whole thing? Hallucinating on top of burning in Hell? He would've smiled at the thought, but he already brandished a skeleton's grin. Maybe when his lips grew back, he'd smile again. Now, though, the demon was nearly upon him.

Oh well, back to the lake for him.

Then, the demon did a very strange thing. He was perhaps three meters away when he stopped. McElroy felt a distinct throbbing, a rapid whump-whump-whump of displaced air passing over him. He turned his head the other way.

A mini-Hellmouth dominated the background nearby. In front of it stood four uniformed soldiers, unmistakably United States Marines. They were all firing, unloading their weapons into the demon. It was quite thoroughly dead when they were done.

Corporal! Have the team arrived? kitten spoke in his mind. The voice was in distinct pain, as though someone were squeezing all the air from kitten's lungs. To have that kind of effect within thoughts...what the hell was kitten going through to do this?

And how! They just smoked a baldrick. Merely thinking the words gave him strength enough stand up. He mused that he must look like Anakin Skywalker at the end of the most recent Star Wars movie, all burnt and freakish. He turned to the four marines and saluted, and they matched him. One of them, stepped forward and began to speak, his facemask wobbling slightly as he jaw moved beneath.

He was still deaf, so he couldn't hear what the Marine was saying. Hurry, please! Send them back! kitten suddenly squealed.

McElroy held up his hand. Pointed to his ears, shook his head. Pointed at the marine, then the portal, and made shooshing motions. The marine stopped, nodded, and passed what looked like an old-fashioned rifle with a wooden stock and a rucksack to McElroy. The four Marines vanished into the portal, which itself closed a second later. He looked at the rifle, recognizing it as an M-1 Garand but with a bigger bore than any Garand he’d ever seen.

You're on your own, Corporal, kitten said, voice weak and dim. Your orders are to evade and survive. You're the among the first we've extracted and armed successfully, so you may be on your own for a while. I'll contact you on a set schedule, its in the rucksack. Understood?

Affirmative. Thank you, kitten. Please pass along word to my family that I'm out and kicking. He didn't get a reply, but that was alright. McElroy was already scanning the area. The wind was throwing dirt into his unprotected eyes, but he could already see better than just a few minutes than before.

The shoreline was deserted, aside from the baldrick corpse. The stream of lava stretched on for miles in each direction, but there was cover further inland, or so it appeared. He squinted; maybe it was a edge of a forest? Or tall grass? Or just a rocky outcrop? His vision was still too bad to tell. At any rate, it would leave him less exposed. He was like a piece of metal in a sand tumbler out here, and the fresh burn wounds were all singing "Ave Maria" as the grime and grit blasted him. They were healing fast though, he could feel his ears returning already.

Placing the Garand and rucksack down for a moment, he went over to the baldrick. It was dead all right, big holes blasted in it and even bigger ones where the bullets had exited the wounds. The monster had nothing he could use, except its trident of course. McElroy hitched his pack to his back, slung the Garand over his shoulder and took off, running up the shore towards what he could now clearly see was a forest.

Throne Room, Belial’s Palace, Tartarus

Belial's throne room was, in many ways a microcosm of his lord's. A mason would note that the columns were carved of adamantine rather than granite, and inlaid with gold and silver rather than sheathed with brass. A soldier's eye would be drawn to the assorted barons in attendance; much of their forms were covered by burnished bronze plates, many set with gaudy jewels. At no other court in hell would a demon show such weakness as needing armor to protect themselves. Here in Tartarus the master proclaimed dominance through superior arms and the servants competed to show their devotion to his principles. A politician would ignore these trappings and focus on the occupant of the throne. The Count's face was lined with the rage and exasperation of a master failed utterly by his servants. The skilled politician would look through this to recognize the desperation of a being that believes it is about to miss its only opportunity for survival.

Euryale's eyes took in all of this as the great doors swung open and admitted her to the room, along with one final similarity to the His Infernal Majesty’s court - the gutted carcass of overseer Oodusjarkethat still cooling on the floor. If Count and King shared anything, it was a healthy respect for the demonic tradition of taking out ones frustrations on ones underlings. That's the fourth one in as many days she thought. The interrogations were proving disastrous, not only had they failed to produce useful information but they had cut production to barely a third of its normal level. The lack of success along with Belial's retribution was crippling the demon's morale.

She strode forward into the throne room, flanked on the left by the long slithering form of Baroness Yulupki. As the most powerful of Tartaruan naga, Belial had charged Yulupki with preparing the chorus that would provide most of the power for the portal ceremonies. The first of the foreign naga had begun to arrive, borne on makeshift litters slung between pairs of Great Beasts, and the baroness's already inflated pride had swelled to new heights as she began to drill her expanded chorus into harmony. Euryale was still technically in command of the portal opening, but it was a strained relationship at best. Yulupki wasted no opportunity to demonstrate her kind's great superiority in psychic strength over the gorgons.

Euryale reached the dais and kneeled perfunctorily, but the naga was even quicker.

"Count Belial, my chorusss stands ready. The firssst of the foreigners are being broken in and I forssseee no problems in producing the level of energy you requesssted.", Yulupki hissed eagerly.

She fancies herself a rival for the count's favor thought Euryale, what a ridiculous notion. For a start, she has completely misjudged his mood.

Sure enough, Belial rose to his feet and rebuffed the naga. "And of what use is your snake pile when we have no idea where to strike? Four days! Half our time gone and still no answers. How difficult could it be? Truly you are the dregs of hell, if I cannot even count on you to wring a few simple facts out of an ample supply of apes!"

Yulupki drew back, coiling upon herself and seemingly genuinely bewildered to be the target of the Count's ranting. "Sssire, we naga are ready to play our role... it was the gorgonsss, sssire, who were supposssed to drag the truth out of the humansss. It was Euryale who promisssed to find their armoriesss for you!"

It was an obvious move and Euryale was ready for it. "Sire, no demon can be blamed for the humans behaving so unreasonably. Something strange has gotten into them, something new, as it has their brethren on Earth. Your genius revealed the source of the earth human's new-found power and the stratagem to eliminate it. I am sure that we can discover the source of the slave's unexpected rebelliousness and counter it."

The flattery went down smoothly and Belial sank back into his throne, his ranting abating to grumbling. "If that hag Deumos would just send me some succubi we'd have answers in no time."

Euryale gritted her teeth. Every gorgon quickly became used to being told they were not as effective at persuading humans as succubi, much weaker fliers than harpies, less powerful witches than naga, poorer fighters than a common lesser demon. And yet there was truth in his words, something odd had happened to Deumos over the last few days. She’d become reserved, distant, as if she was watching and calculating rather than participating. That didn’t change the fact that few demons appreciated flexibility and fewer still valued intelligence over brute strength. Belial usually did and that was the one thing that made being his consort tolerable, but sometimes even he succumbed to the official propaganda that cast the gorgon race as a failed experiment. She had long since learned to bide her time and treat the other demon's scorn as a blind spot to be exploited.

"Belial, succubi would not help. They'd get the humans talking all right, every single one would say whatever he thought the harlot wanted to hear. It would take weeks to sort out the sincere ones and even longer to find the useful ones." The truth of her words was plain and the count slumped deeper into his throne.

Euryale paced in front of the dais, her tail lashing across the floor, thinking out loud. "Collective punishment isn't working. The humans were already becoming inured to torture and now they think they can accomplish something by resisting. There are far too many to interrogate each one fully in the time we have. They now resist enthrallment so strongly that when we barb them repeatedly they go almost immediately from refusing to talk to saying whatever they think we want to hear."

Her thoughts were interrupted by one of the barons speaking up. "With all the chaos out there we can't afford to lose a significant number of humans anyway, who knows when we'd get fresh ones sent up." Others began to whisper to each other and murmuring filled the chamber.

Euryale shook her head. Guruktarqor's statement was correct but irrelevant. The key question was... where was the human resolve to deny them answers coming from? They were actively killing their own kind to deny the demons answers. She found it hard to believe they were just being perverse. What did it look like from the humans point of view? Information about weapons, needed urgently, could only mean the demons were fighting humans somewhere. With that thought, understanding dawned.

"I see it now." Euryale's voice rang out clearly and caught the attention of every demon in the throne room. "By asking such direct questions, we have acted as unwitting carriers of the disease of hope. Clearly all humans are inherently prone to the insane belief that they can prevail against the forces of hell. It took hold on earth and drove them to create magic weapons that seemed powerful enough to justify their belief. Now thanks to our actions it had taken hold here too."

"What is that antidote for hope?" she continued. "We know it well, despair, the proper natural state of a human. But merely restoring despair is not enough, for apathy does not serve our purpose. We must corrupt their newly minted hope into selfish desires, harness it to drive the humans we want, and only the humans we want, to step forward."

Euryale paused for a moment to let her words sink in and Yulupki took the opportunity to heckle. "Pretty ssspeech gorgon, but just how do you propossse to do that? You are no sssuccubusss, to manipulate the humansss emotionsss at a whim."

The gorgon flicked the naga a look of contempt, more for her utter predictability than anything else.

"I propose that we take the humans from one mine and have my gorgons enthrall them all. We will convince them that they are recent arrivals from earth and that the armies of hell are already marching triumphantly across the planet. But there are many fortified cities that will take long sieges to reduce. We must make it clear that the humans are doomed, but that it will take us many years and many demon lives to eliminate them all unless we can strip them of their weapons. We will release these humans individually into the other mines. Finally we will present the humans with a new, false hope. Any human who gives us the information we seek will be released from bondage and held in quarters on the surface. We will promise that should their information proves correct, the next human city to attempt surrender will be spared and given to them to rule. If it proves useless, they will suffer the personal attentions of our best torturers and then eaten alive."

The whole court was stunned. Euryale's plan was so radical, so ambitious in its exploitation of the human mindset that they did not know what to make of it. Every head turned to look at the Count, looking for his cue on whether to treat this gorgon as a genius or a lunatic. For a long moment Belial's face remained impassive, unreadable. Then it broke into a vicious grin.

"I find your suggestion most suitable Euryale."

She inclined her head. "With my lord's permission."

"Granted. All of you, give her whatever she needs."

Euryale turned and fixed Yulupki with a predatory glare, which for a gorgon meant a scaled face framed by no less than twenty four spine-fringed tendril-eyes staring blankly at her target. The naga's will broke and she hung her head, coiling around herself and folding her own tentacles behind her back in submission. Thus vindicated, Euryale swept out of the throne room, her wings fluttering impatiently while she barking orders to the retinue now trailing behind her.

Belial was still smiling. She regularly failed to give him due respect, and this display had been forwardness bordering on insubordination, but somehow he still enjoyed being reminded just why he kept that gorgon around.

{Thanks to Alferd who contributed the first part and Starglider who produced the second}

[PainRack]

WOOT! New chapter up!:D

With regards to Emerald City...... doing a google search, it seems there is such a city in Seattle...........

And kudos to the Gorgon. An imaginative tactic.

[dragon]

So are the humans that got their heads bashed in, dead or mostly dead, considering the corporal spent a month submerged in lava and not dying.
Or is it that there just going to take to long to heal to be of use.

[Darth Wong]

So are the humans that got their heads bashed in, dead or mostly dead, considering the corporal spent a month submerged in lava and not dying.
Or is it that there just going to take to long to heal to be of use.

I get the impression that there are certain kinds of injuries from which you cannot heal, even in Hell. It's not as if the humans who get eaten by demons end up reconstituting from their remains in the demons' feces.

[dragon]

So are the humans that got their heads bashed in, dead or mostly dead, considering the corporal spent a month submerged in lava and not dying.
Or is it that there just going to take to long to heal to be of use.

I get the impression that there are certain kinds of injuries from which you cannot heal, even in Hell. It's not as if the humans who get eaten by demons end up reconstituting from their remains in the demons' feces.

That could suck spending your after life as a pile of excrement.

[Surlethe]

It seems like humans heal fast enough that the rate at which the lava eats away at their bodies is balanced by the rate at which they reconstitute themselves. For highly traumatic injuries, like getting your brain bashed in or being disemboweled and eaten, you're not going to be able to heal fast enough to deal with them before you die from them.

[Shroom Man 777]

Aw! Belial Wuvs Euryale!

Seriously, I love the demon POVs. It's nice watching them scheme and plot and connive!

[CaptainChewbacca]

NICE. Eurayle learns FAST. Also, I like the idea of humans roving the afterlife in ones and twos, with guns.

The military really needs to get more psychics trained. Kitten can't possibly handle it all herself, especially once they have operating groups in the tens or hundreds. In a world of 5.5 billion, there's gotta be more people that can do what she does.

Is the Pentagon sharing its information with allied nations? Is there, perhaps, an EU or Russian program to arm the living-impaired?

[Starglider]

Seriously, I love the demon POVs. It's nice watching them scheme and plot and connive!

I confess that writing the demons is far too much fun.

Aw! Belial Wuvs Euryale!

By human standards it's a dysfunctional relationship, but by demon standards they're a couple of love bats.

Technical question; does anyone have a good idea of the effect that interposing a ~5mm bronze plate between a demon and an incoming round will have? Basically everything I know about small-calibre penetration comes from here.

[dragon]

problem is bronze is a soft metal much softer than steel which is why ancient warriors that were equipped with steel swords had an advantage over the bronze guy. Considering medium caliber bullets can punch through a few millimeters of steel, bronze should pose little problem.

[Starglider]

problem is bronze is a soft metal much softer than steel which is why ancient warriors that were equipped with steel swords had an advantage over the bronze guy. Considering medium caliber bullets can punch through a few millimeters of steel, bronze should pose little problem.

I know. However, it takes quite a bit of small arms fire to take the larger demons down. I'm curious how much difference having to punch through a bronze plate would make. It may not even be noticeable for anything heavier than 5.56 mm.

[dragon]

problem is bronze is a soft metal much softer than steel which is why ancient warriors that were equipped with steel swords had an advantage over the bronze guy. Considering medium caliber bullets can punch through a few millimeters of steel, bronze should pose little problem.

I know. However, it takes quite a bit of small arms fire to take the larger demons down. I'm curious how much difference having to punch through a bronze plate would make. It may not even be noticeable for anything heavier than 5.56 mm.

Well here's the design for a .308 ap round that can punch through 25mm thick steel plate. I'll see what else I can did up.

In order to verify the precision and penetration abilities of the invention, there is performed test shootings with the preferred embodiment of the projectile as specified above (body of electrolytic copper, calibre .308 or 7,62 mm diameter, insert of tungsten carbide protruding 0.4 mm in front of the body, bullet design according to Swedish design application SE 69721, and weight 10. Og).

The first series of tests was aimed at verifying the necessary penetration capability. For these tests there was used 308 Norma Magnum rifle that gave the projectile according to the preferred embodiment specified above a muzzle velocity of approx. 970 m/s. The projectiles were fired against a 25 mm thick steel plate (grade ST 42) at 90° angle from a distance of 25 m. All projectiles managed to penetrate the plate, showing that a penetration ability of at least 25 mm steel is established.

link

[Sidewinder]

Pretty good. May I assume the recently freed corporal is a US marine for assuming his rescuers are marines? (If it were me, I'd probably assume they were soldiers. How did the corporal tell they were marines? Do marines deploy noticeably different tactics than soldiers, or have noticeably different body language?)

[Edward Yee]

CPL McElroy was part of "Mango-Four," 10th Mountain Division, U.S. Army. If the Marine fire team in question didn't use "Hell camouflage" (considering that they only went into Hell long enough to gun down the guard, equip CPL McElroy and leave), then he could recognize them by their MARPAT.

[The Vortex Empire]

A month in lava? Ow. I'd much prefer being chained to hot sand.

[Junghalli]

problem is bronze is a soft metal much softer than steel which is why ancient warriors that were equipped with steel swords had an advantage over the bronze guy. Considering medium caliber bullets can punch through a few millimeters of steel, bronze should pose little problem.

Of course, with their strength, a demon could wear a much thicker plate than a human could. That should be considered.

[Master_Baerne]

Aw! Belial Wuvs Euryale!

Seriously, I love the demon POVs. It's nice watching them scheme and plot and connive!

And fail to adjust, in most cases. It seems like Rome is going to catch it, though-I anticipate somebody telling the demons that it was a major power.

[Shroom Man 777]

Armageddon is totally awesome(ng) in that the story really DOES make you sympathize with the devil.