"The ship is dead, Commander. The crew are dead, their blood has given this place a makeover and their guts make a carpet all over the place, oh… over that my boys are scared bleepless." Commander Elthas Miron of the Outpost Station Tanis squinted at the grainy vid-steal he was receiving. He frowned at the Lieutenant's description of the place, but it was to a degree, the truth. That wasn't the worst part of it, not the mutilated bodies or the gore slick corridors, it was just that everything looked spontaneous and there was absolutely no reason for what happened. At least they didn't find any. "Proceed to the Bridge section and look for the mem-banks." the commander's brows tensed as he let the news sink in, "If there is something to be found it will be in the ship logs or the cogitators."

The Lieutenant looked worriedly at the pict-stealer, "We are splitting up and moving, sir. But I don't think we're going to find much." "Leave that to me, Lanis. May the God-Emperor watch over you, soldier!" "I hope so to, sir!" With that the pict-stealer went back to a near by soldier's shoulder and the lasgun totting band of troopers began advancing through the blood-slick corridor. Elthas looked over the data-pad in his hand for told himself that it would be the last time. He read over the report they had gathered on the ship.

Thelon's Enterprise was a Saviour class supply-ship, a ship used exclusively by Rogue-Trader Expeditions or Imperial Crusade fleets as a ferry to supply munitions and men to and from ships and battlefields, finding it in the outer-rim was not unusual, the last time one had docked to the station was but a week ago bringing in supplies from the system. The ships recorded logs in the fleet mem-banks put it as one of their own ships tasked with supplying a stranded ship in the Red Zone. He did not know the details but the ship was apparently a derelict and the Enterprise was ordered to withdraw from the sector command. It was on a auto-pilot course toward the outpost for refuelling. Now however the three hundred strong crew of the ship were all dead.

Elthas switched off the data-pad and placed it on the table beside him, he had a very bad feeling about this whole thing and he was determined not to be caught out by anything lest his Astartes masters find out. Lieutenant Lanis carefully turned the body over; the smell from its decomposing flesh was unbearable only if they were smart enough to requisition some rebreather mask worst of the stench would've been kept at bay. The body came apart as soon as Lanis had hefted it up on to the wall, entrails and strangely jelly like globules of blood flushed out from the mangled torso as a rush of bone and strange black liquid joined the flow. One of his men beside him jumped out of the forming puddle and cursed aloud to the amusement of the rest of the team. Lanis gave them a dry look and shook his head.

"You frakkers seriously want some attention? Huh? Maybe you'll catch the eye of the beast which did this." The men immediately fell silent, "No? That's what I thought so shut the frak up and get on with it!" "Sir, how sure are you that it was a beast?" the glassy eyed Corporal Avens inquired. "You heard Gonzo, it may be the… you know…them." Lanis kicked the body over as soon as he got the body tags of the soldier "Who Avens? Your fat ass mother?" Trooper Thil broke into laughter at the mention of the Avens' mother, she was a inside joke amongst the company and was often said that if her and an Astartes were weighed together she would come of as the victor. The other's had taken this as a black comedy and shut their mouths. Thil still laughed. Avens clenched his fists "The hell you gotta laugh so loud for dumbass?" broke in Sergeant Gavers entering the corridor from a door which said 'INFIRMARY' in bold Imperial-Gothic. He cuffed Thil on his helmet and kicked him in his shin bringing the trooper to his knees. "Have some respect for your senior rank you retarded mother-frakker! Where's my salute?" the troopers around gave him a swift salute followed by a curt 'Sergeant, Sir!' a smug smile creased his face as Thil followed his comrades in the discipline.

Sergeant Anar Gavers, a massive black skinned brute of a sergeant who was possibly the tallest within the regiment. He was from a penal colony on Arstus IX, the toughest of prison worlds within the segmentum. Lanis had specifically asked for him when he was forming his platoon, he was everything an Outer-Rim sergeant had to be, tough resourceful and hard as nails. "Enough with the drilling, sarge. What've got?" asked Lanis slapping the sergeants shoulder. The Sergeant's smile faded from his battle-hardened face, a small scar ran from his cheek to his chin seemed to animate as he frowned.

"We got tracks…of what? I've got a small inkling." A worried look assailed his face as he produced a hooked protrusion from his pocket. "No point hiding it I guess" he said as he handed it to Lanis. If the sergeant was worried there was no need for Lanis to feel secure "What is it?" he asked as he gulped to salivate his dry throat and took it from his hand. "Genestealer…claw." He said with some difficulty, "For all I know there must be a lotta them around." The men around began checking weapons at the mention of the xenos lurking about, they began looking around anxiously for something bad to come.

"Now your Asses on guard, huh? Really should have said this a while ago then." The Liuetenant gave him an irate look. "Enough! We need to get moving." "Sir, Larks and Mor are gone!" said a hysterical Chanos, the vox officer, as he fumbled for his transmitter. Lanis looked around at his troopers puzzled "What? How?" "Dunno, but it seems…gahhh!" amidst his explanation a inhuman hand ripped through the man's chest, it was followed by another and another until his body was ripped in half. In a sudden flash of movement the troopers began firing into the creature which had killed Chanos. Two more dropped from the ceiling amidst the firing line and shredded two other men apart, the men began running, cursing, firing and dying.

The things which assailed them were growing in number as more dropped from the roof in a flurry of carapace, flesh and claws. Each alien had four limbs brimming with claws and ran on two thick muscled hind legs. The things seemed to have a sort of carapace covering their body and were coloured black with patterns of yellow mottled around the yellow. "To the bridge!" Lanis yelled as he loosed the hotshot clip in full auto, two more of the things fell as their heads became a cauterized mess. Sergeant Gavers had a combat knife in one hand and a lasgun in the other as he reaped a heavy toll on the enemy fighting right toward the back of the line with the best of his squad. He couldn't lose them here; Lanis had to count on someone to check this motley force. Gunfire erupted from the front as more of them dropped in from the vents toward the aft, they were less than ten meters from the bridge but already a terrible toll was being reaped on the twenty man squad, half of them were dead by now.

Sergeant Gavers finally fell as some massive beast of a monster suddenly shot through the grated floor panel, the sergeant fought with all his strength at the forelimb which had pierced his torso. He was thrown to the ceiling and was followed by another spined forelimb which ripped into his head, in one fell swoop he was gone, and the team was lacking a sergeant. Lanis got in behind a corpse of a Genestealer and fired of a burst of shots at the enemy; he gripped his jacket and pulled out a chain of frag grenades. Men filed past him and began covering their officer. Lanis pulled the fuses and threw it down the hallway, in a flash of bright splinters and chemical explosions the corridor was covered in fire and death, dozens of aliens perished in the fire. Lanis Turned and ran to the bridge door which was being held open by Corporal Avens. Lanis summoned all his energy and pushed himself from the floor, in a massive leap he bolted straight through the open door past Avens onto the ground. Already he could see the mess of blood and bodies of the former crew of the ship lying torn and ragged around the room. Then he realised something, the doors were still open.

"Close it!" Lanis shouted as he turned to the corporal. The Corporal stood there shell shocked from the carnage which had gone on around him, it was utter confusion all around. "Close the frakking door!" It was too late for the Corporal as a massive forelimb spined and sharp shot through his torso, another limb severed the body in a flash of blood and guts. The massive beast-thing at the doorway pulled Corporal Avens away from the door to its lesser brothers to gorge at behind it. A trooper bolted forward and pressed the red emergency closure blister on a nearby control panel the door began slowly closing on the monstrous thing which stood just behind the door groove, the survivors formed a ragged line and began firing at the thing, hindering it from entering the bridge. Slowly the door sealed and locked itself as thunderous bangs and thuds assailed the door. Lanis looked around at the survivours and thought of what to do next, the station…he had to contain the xenos here. The ship had to be detached or at least sealed off, if only the station knew.

"Gans, Thol!" he called to two troopers scanning the control panel "Get the comm-channel running and link to Commander Miron. I need to let him know of the bug problem in his backyard."

The view was shaky and the screen was flickering, the grains and the code disturbance were getting worse as the message filtered through. The message, even with the entire disturbance was very clear, literally bloody clear. Commander Elthas Miron saw the desperate faces of the troopers that had once made up his taskforce sent to investigate the dead ship, too few of the remained. The pitiful lot lead by Lanis was determined to finish their task at hand, decoded ship-logs were sent as soon as the bridge was secured. The security Pict-readers had shown that the derelict ship the Enterprise had been ordered to supply was intact but harbouring a hive of Genestealer and what seemed to be a classified Tyranid species called the 'Tyranicus Chameleo' which was classed as 'Diablous Alpha' according to the xenos files he had unearthed from the local mem-banks. He knew what they were. Lictors. But Lanis' couldn't hope to hold on for long, he knew it and Elthas knew it, within the next hour the bridge was overrun. The commander watched it all, with wide eye and awe the other members of the bridge stared at the mess in disbelief.

One lone giant of a beast had ripped through the vents and had crashed amidst the survivours of the taskforce, it was a Lictor. Somewhere between the screams and gunfire, Elthas could make out Lanis' desperate plea…not for help but the security of the station. "Seal the Doors!" the static filled images of a disturbing pict told him. "Relay a message to the Chapter!" His mind was a chattering mess of ideas and commands, he could seal the station and the ship and…and yes! Call the Astartes meat, they can grind these bleep down. Yes. He was suddenly interrupted from his thoughts as the klaxons of the perimeter breach sounded loud and flashing

"Sir!" yelled one of the Monitor officers "Unidentified objects approaching on Alpha-Kappa 36. Displacement is at a rapid rate." Elthas fumbled for his outpost auspex data-pad. Once he had procured it he began scanning the perimeter breach and the object, his returns conformed to the observation by the officer. "Track it's movement I want to know it's target." He turned to the weapons-servitor, "Priority alphas, missiles on arm, ready the aiming cogitators." "Security clearance required." Buzzed the servitor. Elthas reached into his pocket and retrieved a data-key and inserted it into the command-console before him, he entered a key code and activated the console. Immediately the servitor reacted "TW-10029394/I-M2343. Code acquired. Multiple targets locked." It droned on as it began its procedural litanies. "For the Emperor!" it said in a droning soulless voice as it ended its prayer. Few moments later its arms, rather cables, jacked into the port before it and began clicking and whirring as it in complied to system interference and followed coded procedure of its program

"Composing firing solutions. Calculating damage rate. 75%. Awaiting audio confirmation of commanding officer, clear to proceed." "Fire!" ordered Elthas. In a flurry of heat and gaseous expulsion a series of tubes spread across the cylindrical station ejaculated a plethora of sword edged missiles packed with high-explosive payloads. The guided missiles turned from their original tangents into the programmed targets in elaborate arcs and manevoures which dazzled any onlookers unused to such visual paradigms. They raced onwards toward clusters of unidentified shapes, closer they got more of the objects they identified. There were at least Three dozen of organic cigar shaped objects with possible arms and mandibles, which were ejecting some form of spore like objects which was shot toward the incoming Atlas class missiles. The worst was that wasn't the only cluster of organic ships as they were. Three or four more hove into view moving through the power of some unnatural organ. Spores began colliding with the missiles which headed for the organic ships, the missiles began melting and corroding as highly dangerous acids spilt onto them, some shot out of the intended path and exploded prematurely. Dozens more collided into each other until only a handful of the projectiles remained. Yet they were enough.

The missiles collided violently with the lead ships and detonated with tremendous impact. The surrounding space was filled with ichor and pieces of flesh and carapce from the ship-beasts, amongst them were the writhing forms of Tyranid organisms which were enveloped in some form of transparent egg-sacs, other ship-beasts took these sacs for themselves sucking them up with their mandibles or storing them on their backs. In the end too few missiles made it through and the damage was only superficial as more and more of the ship beasts dove into view to take the dead brethren's place. This was it the perimeter was breached, he had no more missiles left as the defence protocol only allotted one volley and the rest of it's tactics depended on other capital ship support. They still had Point defence cannons, but they were armed with low calibre anti-boarding munitions. Airlock breach klaxons began sounding at an almost unexpected time; a flood of reports began funnelling through the security system on the situation, there were communiqués of monsters and aliens, gunfire and a lot worse messages involving screaming and the sounds of snapping bones and decapitation of the crew.

"Ensign Colt, what the hell is going on?" The Blue eyed ensign turned to the commander and handed a data-pad. "I have just scanned the station and it seems that those things out there," he jerked his fingers to the clusters of ships which had now stopped for some reason, "seemed to be a diversion, while we were firing at those things a host of boarding spores hit us from below the plane of sight. These bleep had this all planned out!" "They had it what?!" Elthas began sweating as he thought of the implication; he stared out of the reinforced view-screen and saw the approaching swarm of ships. All across the station the security forces under the Watch Captain was fighting a loosing battle against the superior numbers of the Tyranid hordes that apparently popped out of nowhere; already the lower decks and the power plants were overrun.

Barracks and the Engineering still held on thanks to the additional troopers of Elthas' own Guards were organising a defence, yet dozens of the crew were still caught out and were being massacred by the roving terrors. There was only one thing to do. It may get him executed, or praised and promoted. They had to evacuate. He flicked on the ship inter-com "All Hands! Emergency evacuation procedures! Repeat all hands report to the Shuttle bay and prepare to evacuate as soon as possible." The startled crew of the command centre began packing up documents and gathering the data-cards from the mem-banks. It was a standard abandoning procedure. Elthas activated the pict-recorder on his console and began typing on the keypad, he stopped and fixed his coat and straightened his hair. The commander began detailing the events of the past few hours and of the Tyranid incursion. Once he was finished, he turned to the ensign, "Ensign, send this coded message to the Fortress-Monastery on Code it as alpha red. File it and attach these." He produced three chips of mem-files. The ensign nodded and proceeded to the Comm-control.

The bridge doors slid open and the Watch Captain Kuris Alason entered the centre flanked by two heavily armed Storm-Troopers. It was Elthas' security detail. The man gave a firm salute and made an Aquila upon his armoured breast "Commander, we have to leave, now." His voice was slow and purposeful and it had a hint of anguish in it, or was it hesitation. "No, I need to coordinate the evacuation." Elthas replied defiantly, "People are still stuck near the cryo-hub and the mess halls, they need my help." "You can't sir. We are doing everything we can but if we loose you then our lives are forfeit. The Chapter does not take kindly to loosing one's Senior Officer." Elthas had no choice but to comply, already one of the Storm-Troopers was on the vox-caster and co-ordinating the security teams. "All security teams Alpha to Sierra form defence cordon toward Shuttle Bays. Echelon to Zeta form perimeter at the sector three to seven. By the Throne of Terra!" "We need to go." He told Elthas, who was still defiant. "Now!" he added as gunfire was heard outside the bridge. The Watch Captain headed to the Weapons Control mainframe and typed a few blisters on the screen, the screen shined red and then green. Clicking and whirring followed and the console erupted from it's sockets and the mainframe parted away. The servitor was replaced with another console and the floor opened up to a flat pad.

It was an elevator, a secret one.

"We need to get to the Shuttle Bays." Elthas was told again. This time he simply stepped into the pad. He knew that the station was lost, all hands were doomed. He wept for them, his security was assured, but his crews' was not for all he knew they were mostly dead. Thirty Minutes after the Station Commander's evacuation, most of the station was overrun, the Shuttle Bay and the adjoined Armoury was the only things still under Imperial control. The last of the survivours were boarding the last shuttle, they claimed they had somehow made it through the already lost mess halls into the shuttle bay. As the last shuttles lifted off and the last pockets of resistance being overrun, a single Lictor had somehow made it to the Shuttle Bay. The thing had climbed its way through the vents and had surprised the guards waiting for the safe departure of the Shuttle-51. Just as the shuttle was being boarded the Lictor had shown up, crashing through the vents and killing a dozen survivours as it fell, another seven died as it killed without ceasing as the troopers tried to distract it from the shuttle, but to no avail, they soon met their own demise.

The shudder rippled through the ship as the lone Lictor rammed into the still closing door, the dead and shredded torsos of two security guards remained sprawled out across the floor of the shuttle and the terrified passengers muffled their screams lest they make the thing outside more agitated. Three guards with lasguns ran in through the vent doors and began firing at the thing; shots flew into the Lictor's carapace but to no avail, the annoyed Lictor turned its attention to the three security guards from the shuttle and bolted toward them.

That was enough time for the pilots of the Shuttle to activate the launch sequence, the ship shuddered once more, not from some outside force rather it was the engines of the long ship which had kicked into life and was ferrying the survivours away from the doomed station. The Lictor sensing the departure turned toward the ship, the men still kept firing but it was nothing more than a mere annoyance to it. In a swift hack and cut motion it severed two of the troopers into pieces and bit the remaining troopers head off in a spray of gore and violence. The instinct urged it to board the ship, to escape and find the heart of the prey, escape. With that it turned and leapt toward the shuttle as it was lifting off. The Lictor slammed into the landing legs of the shuttle and grabbed onto the hydraulics of the machine trying to force itself up into the belly of the ship, yet its greatest asset, the lethal spined and claw like fore-limbs was in it's way.

The legs began retracting and the Lictor struggled to pack itself into the small space in the compartment, in a sudden motion the landing gear creaked and fully sealed, a fourth of its forelimb still dangling outside the ship was severed instantly as thick ichor spilled from its wound. It roared and thrashed in pain as it clutched and licked its wound. Soon the shuttle would be at Far-Reach.