Fame Cimex Chapter 21

Over the broken and cracked plain the Tyranids came, a heaving undulating mass of flesh, claws and chitin. They hissed as they ran, the Hive Mind stoking a terrible hunger in their alien minds, urging them on to feast. The Tyranids had claimed this world as their own and they would let nothing stand against them, all must fall to the Great Devourer.

Waiting to greet them was a thin line of Transhuman resistance, standing resolutely in the face of overwhelming might. The Space Marines of two Chapters waited stoically, gripping their weapons tightly and taking aim at the onrushing horde. Amongst them was Captain Toran, standing with his Command Squad and watching the Xenos closing the distance, mentally counting down the time until they crossed into weapons range. He felt a presence at his side and turned to see Imix had arrived, the Shade-Seer looked tired and weary. Even under his helm he was slumped and appeared to be leaning on his staff for support, he almost looked like he had been battling for days already. Toran spared a moment to open a private vox link and said, "Imix, are you hale?"

The telepath answered, "The Hive Mind tears at my soul, a multitude of gnawing, biting horrors clawing at my mind. I have faced Daemons who were less rapacious."

Toran was concerned and said, "Can you fight?"

Imix replied resolutely, "I am not dead yet."

Toran returned his attention to the front and saw that the Tyranids had closed the distance, skittering almost into range. He drew a breath from his armour's supply then ordered, "Heavy Weapons, take aim… and fire!" Instantly a spray of Missiles and Heavy Bolter rounds erupted, raining down from the Devastators in their elevated positions and the Tactical Squads on the line. The rounds impacted with the oncoming hordes, throwing bits of bodies up into the air to shower down as gore. Carapaces were torn open and spider-like limbs ripped free to trip bodies into the dust, but the Tyranids cared not. The swarm swept on, trampling their wounded into the ground with heedless disdain as they pressed onwards. Again the Heavy weapons spoke and again, each time blasting holes into the swarm, but not slowing its advance. Then the Tyranids swept into bolter range and Toran raised his own weapon crying, "All squads, Rapid Fire!"

The line lit up with a crescendo of mass reactive rounds, bolt rounds surging forth to blast apart smaller beasts and trip larger ones. The Swarm swelled with noise, hissing and snarling loudly as the front ranks disappeared in a froth of ichor. Hormagaunts leapt high to avoid the salvo but they were swatted out of the air, while Warriors were bracketed and ripped asunder by concentrated fire. The swarm pressed on, determined to reach the Space Marines, but the concentrated fire held them at bay.

Toran was panning his Master-Crafted bolter back and forth, each burst cutting down a leaping form as all around him the squads poured on fire. It was like firing into a living wall, the sheer mass of flesh rolling forward and no matter how many the Space Marines slew the Xenos just kept on coming. From his side Persion growled, "Warp Hells, how many of them are there?"

Toran barked, "Keep firing, give them no respite!"

Toran swiftly reloaded and when he brought his aim back up he saw a Warrior form break out from the line, racing forwards with a bonesword raised. He swung his muzzle around and took careful aim, his hand as calm and steady as if he were on the firing range. A gentle squeeze of the trigger and a familiar jolt to his shoulder announced his Bolter discharging, sending three rounds soaring away on contrails of fire. The trio of bolts caught the Warrior on the head, its carapace deflected two of them but the third penetrated and blew the Xeno's brains out. Toran didn't hesitate but swung his weapon around again, firing once more. As he fired he opened his vox to the distant Techmarines and called, "Hevostan, tell me you are finished."

A crackle of static hissed for a second and then a voice came back, "Negative Captain, our efforts have not yet reached fruition."

Toran gritted his teeth and yelled, "Make haste then, we are under attack!"

The Techmarine called back, "I assure we are not taking our leisure here either, we will inform you the second we are done!"

Toran returned his attention to the fight and saw that the Tyranids were pressing forward, despite all their losses the swarm was too numerous to be stopped entirely. The Space Marines could not hope to stop the swarm, merely delay its advance.

Suddenly the skies darkened and flocks of Gargoyles descended on flapping leathery wings and carrying symbiotic weapons in their claws, with tendrils burrowing into the meat and bone of the host creature. Wide bore muzzles convulsed and spat living ammunition at the ground, fat beetles with oversized jaws whose only function in life was to chew and rend all they encountered. As the fat rounds fell upon the armoured shapes of Space Marines, Toran saw the danger of the foe falling upon their rear and he roared, "Devastators, raise your aim!"

Instantly the Heavy support troopers swung their guns upwards, blasting missiles and Heavy Bolter rounds up into the sky. The Gargoyles were caught in a deadly barrage, blasted out of the sky by storms of blazing rounds and exploding Frag blasts. Monstrous horrors fell in droves with torn wings and bleeding bodies, destroyed by the might of the Space Marines, yet they had served their fell purpose. By dividing their firepower the Astartes had slackened their torrent towards the swarm and the Tyranids saw the onslaught diminish. Instantly the swarm pressed forwards, hurling their bodies across the ground in great leaping bounds. Toran saw the sudden surge of movement and redoubled his fire yelling, "Hold the line brothers, we must buy the Techmarines more time!"

The Space Marines poured on their fire, smashing the swarm with all the might at their disposal. The monstrous horde kept coming but the Astartes held true, firing relentlessly in a display of courage and skill that would have been worthy of any saga told on the high feast days. The Astartes refused to yield an inch, blazing away with every weapon as the Company Standard flew high and Brother Bylan cried, "+The Alien is an obscenity in the sight of the Emperor!+"

Toran roared in response, "Send these monsters back into the abyss that spawned them!"

Sergeant Furion took up the cry shouting, "Abhor the Alien. Hate the Alien, Kill the Alien!"

The Space Marines roared their fury over the vox waves, making their battle more than just another battle in the endless litany of war. This was mankind's contempt for the Xeno writ large, a testament to humanity's Manifest Destiny to command the stars made real. They poured on everything they had, blasting back the Tyranid hordes in droves. This was the most delicate of balances, the endless alien swarm against the steel of humanity, bottomless hunger pitted against courage and faith. Despite all the odds the Space Marines were holding the line and for a moment it looked like they might break the horde, but then Imix cried out in pain and roared, "Beware my kin, the Hive Mind manifests!"

Toran snapped his head around and saw what the Shade-Seer had sensed approaching, floating over the heads of the swarm was a sinuous elongated form. It moved without touching the ground, surrounded by a shimmering halo of eldritch energy and had a shark-like grin pasted over its face: a Zoanthrope. Before anyone could react arcs of green lightning sparked around the Zoanthrope's head and it opened its jaws wide in a hideous parody of mirth. A salvo of bolts and missiles arced towards it but all of them defected off the shimmering shield and beast was unharmed. The power built for a second and then there was an incandescent flash as the energy arced outwards to land amongst the Astartes' line.

There was a flare of green fire and a heat that could be felt even through power armour as bodies were flung into the air in pieces, coming down in chunks to rain ceramite down to the ground. The line shivered but did not break as Apothecary Memnos hurried over, to save those he could and reclaim the Gene-seed from those he could not. Meanwhile the Zoanthrope undulated closer and power began to build up around it again, Toran raised his aim and bellowed, "Bring it down!"

A torrent of bolts and missiles hurtled out from the line saturating the creature with fire but the shimmering shield held firm and not one shot landed. The green lightning began to build up once more and Toran turned to Imix, desperate for anything to halt the coming blast, but he was shocked by what he saw. The Librarian had fallen to his knees, and was shaking like a leaf in the wind. He had both hands clasped around his the haft of his staff, clinging to it for dear life and his head jerked back and forth in denial. His armour was covered in psychic hoarfrost and his agony was obvious at a glance. Toran bit back his concern and pressed himself to shout, "Shade-Seer, the Zoanthrope comes, we need your strength!"

Imix's voice was wracked with agony, every syllable forced out between clenched teeth as he groaned, "I cant, I can't… they're too strong. A million knives in my ears, a billion claws in my eyes: they're eating my mind from the inside out!"

Toran glanced back at the Zoanthrope and saw it was mere seconds from unleashing another blast. The Captain knew Imix was their only chance to prevent a catastrophe but he could not even stand. Toran's mind ran through a thousand litanies and mantras of purity looking for something to get the Librarian back up and fighting, but nothing he could say would do. There was no platitude to help, nothing he could think of that the Shade-Seer did not already know and Toran knew that they were all doomed.

Then it hit him: the one thing he could say that he personally knew would get the Librarian back up on his feet. Toran opened his mouth and roared, "Imix... you are about to fail!"

Imix's head snapped up, the accusation cutting right to the heart of him. Every Astartes was conditioned from the moment of indoctrination to abhor failure, it was the essence of weakness and not one Marine in the galaxy would willingly suffer such a thing to exist. It was the bedrock of their nature that weakness must be excised and that compared to failure, death was but a hollow phantom, pain less than nothing.

Imix roared inhumanely as the dams on his psychic might were let slip, he rose from the ground with arcs of lightning spraying from every joint and seam of his armour, the air itself vibrating with his potency. His feet lifted off the ground and he hovered on a thermal of Warp energy, surrounded by a crackling nimbus of power. His right hand shot forward and the Zoanthrope froze in place, convulsing in pain. Imix howled like a predatory hunter at the moment of the kill and slowly, inexorably closed his hand into a tight fist.

The Zoanthrope screamed in agony as its mind was ravaged, torn apart by the psychic might of the Space Marine. Its Warp energies ran amok and began tearing it apart, destroying it with its own power. As Imix crushed its mind the power ran through its body, making its already bulbous brain swell and expanded like a balloon filled with too much water. Then in a sickening burst of ichor and lighting the Zoanthrope burst, spraying gore all over its kin.

As Imix sank incoherently to the ground the swarm faltered, the loss of a Synapse creature making the creatures cower back. Toran thought for a moment that they had defeated the Tyranids entirely, but then the swarm parted and a fresh foe emerged. A hideous monster larger and more deadly than any other creature, the embodiment of the Hive Mind and the sum total of its hatred and hunger brought to life.

The Hive Tyrant had come.