The Flame Ukhozi were descendants of Vulkan himself, and had stood guard over the Ghoul Stars alongside their allies in the Hound Keepers and Blood Angels descendants, the Angels of Purification. The Flame Ukhozi drew their number from the worlds of the Natal Sector, home to Savanna-dwelling warriors whose loose tribes and Clans provided them with a strong supply of eager, fearless troops. It was on the capital of this sector, the primary world of Natal, where the world of Bulawayo orbited the star, and where the majority of the Flame Eagles, as their name translated into Low Gothic, resided.

The Ukhozi ruled from their fortress monastery, many staying there to train, before, in the style of their parent Chapter, returning to their tribes to act as chieftains and wisemen. It was within this fortress monastery, that the populace of Bulawayo had been gathered, and it was guarded fiercely by the warriors of the Flame Ukhozi, their powered armor a rich, vibrant gold, like a lion's pelt, and their shoulder armor black. The chapter banners and their shoulders bore a crimson eagle, talons out-stretched, wings looking as if made of fire.

Tied around their wrist armor, chest and necks, were tightly wound cords lined with multi-colored beads, of greens, reds, blacks and whites, tightly wrapped around their armor, and carrying different patterns and coloration. Across the back and shoulders, were the pelts of lions and bulls. Their skin was dark, not the pure black, obsidian tone of their forefathers, but still very close. Indeed, the only way to tell they were Salamanders, was their burning red eyes. In contrast to their darkened skin, was markings of war paint in white, across their foreheads and checks, some over the eyes and mouth, in square patterns.

The Monastery they were in was a rustic building on the inside. Once one got past the walls and defenses, of Bolter emplacements and Tarantula sentries, they could see that inside was filled with the pelts of both great beasts from Bulawayo, and of the many enemies of the chapter, from Ork and Kroot hides tanned and prepared, hung from their walls, while heads adorned the small shrines within, mounted on spears and pikes. Across the tables and platforms, were various pots and gourds, painted in triangular patterns of black and yellow.

Here, the Warriors of the Flame Ukhozi had gathered, rank after rank of Space Marines, all brought to the central hall of the Monastery by their leader. He was a massive warrior, even by the impressive standards of the Astartes, board and powerful, his face marked with three long, jagged scars across his face, one eye replaced with a glowing red implant. His right arm was dominated by a mighty Power Fist, while his left bore a normal hand, but colored with red markings that resembled claw marks.

This mighty warrior, was Chapter Master Magebaka Gumende. He had served long and for many centuries at the forefront of war, long were his storied accomplishments and victories in the name of the Emperor. And now, he faced annihilation.

The Tyranids of Hive-Fleet Jormungandr had brought a tendril of its forces to Natal, and although every warrior had been gathered from the various campaigns to shore up the defense of their homeworld, it did not seem enough. They had been quite savaged by the battle with an Ork Warband under a Warboss Grokk Mettul'ead, and it left him wondering if they could even pull out a victory.

'Too many foes at too many areas, and we have been bled white,' He thought grimly to himself, looking over the assorted, grimfaced warriors wearily, before breathing in. 'We must do everything we can, as Vulkan did at Isstvaan, and against Konrad Curze.'

"Today we must endure the invasion of the foul Tyranids. As the Blood Angels have done, we must face these beasts of Jormungandr, and repel them," Magebaka began his speech to the chapter, never showing a sign of his inner doubts to them. "Failure here, will not only see our Homeworld and its people devoured, but the potential for these foul aliens to regain strength in their thrust into the galaxy."

He brought up the Holographic displays in the central dais, showing the deployment and locations of the Tyranid incursions, across multiple areas of Bulawayo. "They are many, and we are few, but we are the Sons of Vulkan! To even doubt ourselves, after everything our Primarch endured, would be to spit upon him! Remember your Tribes and Clans from which you hail, and focus your anger and spite, your vengeance and wrath, on these creatures that would take your homes!"

He touched the Hologram, producing a number of blue dots across the world, positioned just ahead of the Tyranid advance. "We will deploy our Scouts here, here, here and here, harassing the Xenos into these positions, here, here and here,"

He moved his finger through it, showing where the foes would be lead to. "After, we will deploy our flanking attacks. The Horns of Vulkan will be what we base our movements upon, and grind down these foes."

The plan was simple, and Magebaka had prepared for counter-measures in case these creatures proved too wily and cunning for one strategy to destroy them. From what he had heard from other Chapters, and experienced in his own fights with them, Tyranids were not quite the savage, unthinking creatures their forms would have you believe. Thus, it was important to have multiple plans of action against them.

The Microbead buzzed within his ear, as the Master of Fleet spoke to the command of the Flame Ukhozi, Ntshingwayo Kazu, spoke. "Chapter Master, the Tyranid forces have made land fall. The Chapter Fleet has engaged Hive-Fleet tendrils, but they have already begun to deploy planetside."

Magebaka nodded firmly to the gathered Captains, Chaplains and Librarians. "Awaken the Dreadnoughts, and take to the Rhinos. We must face the Swarm, and attain victory. There is no other option."

The Flame Ukhozi deployed across the plains, in some areas, taking up positions by the rivers and lakes, among the great forests. In other parts, the forces were deployed in the scrub lands, the dust and sand blowing through, as the Astartes prepared themselves. Mountains and hills rolled through other parts, Scout Marines deploying over them, Sniper Rifles prepared and readied for the coming fight. The Ukhozi did not have long to wait. Rampaging across the fields of the world, smashing through trees and splintering rock as they plunged through the savanna, wild animals of various kinds, hunter and prey, sprinting and running with terror from on-coming storm.

The Scouts had thought the Tyranids of Jormungandr had been destroyed, scattered by the efforts of the venerable Tycho and his Blood Angels. Yet here, they swarmed across the ground, a blanket of black chitin and yellow-gold carapace, chittering and shrieking as they went. One of the Scouts peaked out from a rock on the cliffs, seeing the sheer dizzying array of creatures lumbering and darting across the dry, desert soil.

"I thought they were defeated." He whispered, more to himself then to the other Scouts on the cliff side.

The Sergeant spoke, a grizzled Ukhozi Marine, the hair on his left side short, while on the right side was completely gone, only an ugly acid-burn scar across the top, the right side of his face similarly scared with deep claw and acid markings. His tone was rough and raspy, as if his lungs and throat had been burned. "Always remember, if when defeated, the Tyranids always outnumber even Orks."

One of the other Scouts, keeping his rifle aimed at them to keep sight of the creatures, nodded slightly. "Aye, I read various reports on em. A Chapter called 'Blood Ravens' almost lost their homeworld, one to a tendril, then again when said tendril almost rebuilt itself while they were fighting Ork Freebooters, Eldar and Black Legion forces."

The first scout shook his head, teeth grinding slightly. He swallowed whatever fear was building in him. He may not have been a full Astartes, but he was not going to be scared of some bugs, when his very home was at risk. "Well, they lost to the Ravens right? You read that right? So our job is easier. We don't have the distractions. We can easily defeat them."

The Sergeant looked at him, perhaps picking up on how shaken he was at the sight. "Indeed. These things are but mindless hunger directed by nothing but the need to feed. Such ferocity makes them deadly, but nothing we cannot handle."

The Sergeant aimed his own Sniper rifle, directing those with rifles and binoculars to follow suit and obverse them. "Now, watch the beasts closely. The small, dog-like beasts are the most common, but note the tall, Astartes-height ones with four arms and various weapons. Those provide direction."

"Do you want us to take the shot?" One of the Scouts asked, sounding eager to earn his accolades and place.

"No." The Sergeant answer gruffly. "Observe and note their direction. Our Whirlwinds must have their missiles guided."

Still, even he could see the sheer volume of Tyranids made that a rather unfeasible strategy. Even if the missile-artillery of the Chapter met their mark, more then likely, there would be enough to simply absorb the loss and keep going. More and more creatures kept moving through the gaps in the canyons and mountains, all directed towards the Fortress Monastery. The Sergeant thought this single-minded approach was strange. Tyranids usually deployed in the wilds, scoured the land of animal meat, like cattle and Grox herds, before this inevitably lead to them clashing with planetary forces.

'Perhaps they recognize us being the same as Captain Tycho and his Chapter that so wounded them,' He thought, clenching his jaw twice with worry. 'It is never wise to underestimate such creatures. It is often the last mistake many make.'

He briefly felt the need to touch the scars on his face, before focusing back on the Tyranids and the task at hand.

"Command, I am transmitting silhouette data on the Tyranids and their numbers from my location." He stated softly into the microbead, hoping to avoid being detected.

Across the world, Scout teams sent their data and reads to the rest of the Chapter, every squad, vehicle and leader getting a rough estimate of where the creatures where heading and where they were at now. It was still a start reality. The three positions, the central forests and rivers where Magebaka had positioned his troops, the Savannah where he had sent Captain Ntombela, and the canyons and mountain passes where Chaplain Cetshwakko, were all about to be overwhelmed, by potentially millions of Tyranids, everything from Gaunts, Zoanthropes, Carnifexes, and everything in-between was coming upon them.

Magebaka clenched his Power Fist, looking worried, before taking a deep breath as a breeze went through the fields where his main force was positioned. Bulawayo had to survive. He focused himself, thinking of Vulkan again. 'As the Primarch faced the Dusk Wraiths, so must I face these creatures.'

The tribes within the Fortress Monastery's defenses needed him and the Flame Ukhozi to be a wall that could not be broken. Magebaka concentrated, even now, from miles away, seeing the countless creatures approaching, dust and clouds of spores kicked up into the air, as he waited. The other Astartes could see the encroaching swarm, checking their weapons, offering silent prayers to the Emperor, and girding themselves for the fight to come. They approached quicker and quicker, as if the scent of human flesh was enticing the Tyranids to move quicker to strike a decisive blow.

Magebaka pointed with his Power Fist-enclosed finger and yelled to the other Marines. "Whirlwinds, fire everything!"

The order was carried out across the many miles of Bulawayo, missiles flying through the skies, arcing through, before falling and crashing down. Explosions tore through the land, thousands of Termagants and Hormagaunts, with a few Warrior Broods, destroyed in an instant, sundered and blown into numerous chunks and burned remnants by the Marine Artillery fire. Splintered and shattered remnants of the Tyranids scattered across the fields, fires burning intensely from the craters and points of impact where they had landed.

As the dust and smoke cleared, the Tyranids broke through the and continued their forward momentum. Magebaka ground his teeth slightly, as he produced his sidearm, and turned to the other warriors. "Prepare yourselves!"

The first wave of Tyranids charged, scything talons and claws ready for whatever foe they could reach, before Heavy Bolters and the Vindicators and Predator tanks opened fire, their guns roaring with a fury none could match. Tyranid ichor spilled out, green blood, thick and gooey like oil, spilled across the ground, making it slick with the stuff, and just as soon as the first wave were cut down, another wave were charging forward. The Tanks and heavy weapons teams laid down fire, but inevitably, they would have to reload. And as they did, new shells being loaded, ammo belts being fed into the weapons, the Tyranids surged forward.

Termagants and Hormagaunt broods charged, as Tactical Marines opened fire with Bolter and Plasma gun, as Tyranid Biovores and Exocrines lumbered into position, setting down, and priming their Bio-Canons, before firing. Fiery Bio-plasma and other acidic rounds at the Ukhozi positions, striking into the tank armor and defensive positions, as the Marines docked for a cover and moved to avoid the attacks. As they did, Termagants opened fire, Fleshborer and Devourers flinging masses of green worms and beetles at the Marine positions. The heavily armored warriors shrugged off the attacks, bouncing off their Power Armored frames as they charged.

Magebaka charged right into the heart of the swarm, as his Combi-Bolter/Flamer opening fire, rounds splattering the brave Hormagaunts that threw themselves at the Chapter master, living nothing but a cloud of blood where the creatures once stood. Warriors charged, Talons and Bone Blades raised, as they shrieked to the heavens at the armored warrior before them. He turned, eyes flaring in pure, unadulterated rage, before turning the Flamer function on, and sending a wave of fire at the creatures in his way. They shrieked in rage and agony, but kept charging, swinging their blades at him. Magebaka dodged through their wild swings. They were more focused and disciplined then he expected from animals, but they were still beasts. One swung their Bone blades at him, only for Magebaka to side-step the attack, point his Combi Weapon at its head and fire, sending chunk of skull, chitin and brain matter flying, some splattering on his face, as he spat it out with a disgusted grunt, before back-handing the Blade away with his Power Fist, and as the creature staggered, swung an upper cut into the creature's stomach, caving in the creature's insides and sending it flying back.

The last charged at him, its body beginning to splinter and break from the fire over its body, before Magebaka simply stepped backwards, out of the reach of its talons and blades, reached over its over-extended blade-limbs, and grabbed the creature by the head, before crushing it in his grip. And yet, he didn't have time to celebrate, as yet more Gaunt broods and other creatures charged at him, various biomorph blades and gun symbiotes were trained on him. Organic projectiles struck, barbed stranglers and Fleshborers striking against his armor, Magebaka again unleashing the fury of the the Combi-Flamer, the foul stench of burning Tyranid flesh and their screams filling their again, burning the insides of his nose, and tearing into his ear drums, but even through this, felt satisfaction.

He tapped his Microbead again, voice booming above the Chaos. "Assault Marines, show them the meaning of our name, hunt upon wings of flame!"

As the Tyranids swarmed all around them, the sky was cast alight with the tell-tale trail of fire from the Assault Marines, flying through the air, and slamming down into the middle of the Tyranid swarms. Warriors and Raveners were thrown and tossed aside from the impact, while others, and especially the Gaunt broods, were immediately crushed under foot. Their armored boots smashed apart chitin and shell alike, the dull yellow and black armored frames splintered in multiple areas, and that was before the Chainswords got to work, tearing through the Tyranids. Their swords roared like thunder, slicing through the Termagants, Pistols splattering others into chunks of meat and blood.

As they cut through enemy after enemy, the Dreadnoughts and Honor Guard of the Chapter, The Fasimba, closed. Each carried a short-shafted Power Spear and Combat Shield, each shield a black, oval-shaped weapon with 16 small, rectangular markings notched on the face of the shield. Tyranid Warriors threw themselves at the Honor Guard, their armor marked with gold eagles along the shoulders, spotted leopard pelts worn over the legs and across the back as a cape, their helmets with a single white rune over the face of it.

The Captain of the Honor Guard lead the way through, his Power Ax swinging, every blow heavy and mighty, strong enough to rend a mountain in two, but striking with the speed of the eagles that the Chapter got its name from. His countenance was dark, his face long and check bones prominent. On his scared forehead were three service studs embedded into the flesh. Throughout his attack, he did not show any sign of emotion. Though his sometimes showed fury when the Ravener broods burst from the ground, slicing and striking into the Armor of him, Magebaka and the rest of Fasimba, his face was calm throughout, even serene in a way.

"Thank the Emperor for your arrival, Dinswayo." Magebaka declared, giving a grateful nod to the Honor Guard Captain, as he calmly turned his Combi-Flamer and lite another swarm of Hormagaunts on fire.

"If you had waited for your Honor Guard, instead of charging like a wildman, you wouldn't have been at risk." Dinswayo remarked with some annoyance, his face still neutral and stoic.

Magebaka turned back to the Tyranids, now three Carnifex beasts charging at them, one a Screamer-Killer, the other two, the standard Stone-Crusher Carnifex. Dinswayo gave his power ax a twirl, before regriping it in both hands, as Magebaka prepared himself again.

As they charged, a roar went through the air, as a rocket fired off and impacted with the side of one of the Carnifexes, stunning it for a moment. Melta shots fired from another angle, the Devastator bravely marching forward, their steps slow and ponderous, but their attacks well-timed and aimed at the gigantic beasts. The creatures ignored it, charging forward without a care for the attacks, either the burned flesh from the missile impact upon one Carnifex's face, or the Melta-borne holes in the side of another.

"Nothing ever does when you wish it." Dinswayo muttered tiredly, preparing his ax. "Vulkan and Emperor, give me strength."

The first Carnifex fired its Venom Canon, as Dinswayo stepped forward, activating the Iron Halo and absorbed the acidic shot, the hit striking the shield, pushing him back several feet, but causing no real damage, as the other raised its massive talons up, the Fasimba preparing their shields and spears for battle, as a Dreadnought slammed into the flank of the creature, knocking it aside, and grabbing its neck in the Power Claw, as the creature roared, striking and stabbing into the hull armor of the Dreadnought, the other Dreadnought's arm, a Heavy Twin-linked Flamer, burst to life, flames roaring across its body.

The Center Carnifex charged, four curved bladed arms swinging and slicing through the air, the Honor guard narrowly avoiding its strikes, Dinswayo charging at the creature without a trace of fear, and swinging his ax, catching one of the blades mid-swing and stopping it. The creature turned in surprise, one small creature able to hold it in place, before Magebaka fired his Bolter, the rounds striking into the Carnifex's face, the creature backing up, more in annoyance, shaking off the attacks, before swinging another limb at the Chapter Master. It struck into the middle of Magebaka's armor, fresh blood spilling out, as the Fasimba encircled him, forming a wall of Combat Shields, two of them dragging Magebaka back and away from the creature.

It released another high frequency scream, before firing a blast of plasma at the Honor Guard, knocking them back, smoke rising from their armored frames. As the creature began marching towards the Chapter Master and his guards, the roar of an engine sounded, as four Melta beams fired and struck the creature in the face and body knocking it back. Magebaka looked up in surprise, as did the Fasimba and Dinswayo, to the Land Raider Prometheus arriving to turn the tide.

"Apologies for the late arrival, Chapter Master Gumende, others of this breed gave us trouble." The driver stated in a calm manner, the deep gauges, acid and bioplasma burns no evident across its hull. It was a miracle some parts of it weren't completely falling apart.

Melta rounds burst forth from its piddle-mounted arrays, striking and burning into the Carnifex's flesh and armor, as the Stormbolter at the center continued to lay down on the creature, a constant stream of bolter shells striking into the beast. Small bullet wounds opened in its armor, as the creature staggered back, the Duel Heavy Meltas cooling, releasing blue vapors from its sides, before firing again at the creature, two of the beams striking through the underside of its jaw, burning through the mouth, into the upper jaw, and out through the brain, as the other struck through the armor and into the stomach, or whatever incomplete digestive track a Carnifex was granted by the Norn Queens and Hive-Mind. Green blood spilled and vaporized from the heat of the Melta blasts, as the creature fell over.

With the three Carnifex beasts dead, the other Tyranids seemed to scatter, Raveners smashing into the loose soil and disappearing below, as Warriors and Gaunt broods scattered, seemingly in a panic now, lacking the cohesion and order from before, their synaptic connections severed. Magebaka and the rest of the contingents of the Ukhozi watched, breathing hard as they did. A few Predators, and a dozen of the Marines were dead, but they had scattered the Tyranids. They had weathered the storm and emerged stronger from it.

Magebaka leaned back into the ground slightly, breathing hard from the deep wound, as two Apothecaries tended to his wounds, struggling to peel back some of the lose, sliced open armor, and stem the bleeding. It was a temporary solution, but until they could return to the Fortress Monastery, it would have to do. Surgical tools and devices got to work, Magebaka clenching his jaw tightly as he grunted every so often in their work. He was not a neophyte. He had been visited by the Apothecaries more times then he could count. He could endure a little pinch or stab.

He brought his finger to his microbead, contacting the others. "Captain Ntombela, how is your position fairing?"

"We are encountering concentrated attacks by Tyranids Zoanthropes, but the main thrust has been crushed. Several Warrior Prime creatures were cut down." The Captain reported.

"What of you, Chaplain Cetshwakko? How is your front?" Magebaka asked, before grunting from another tool sealing a bleed in his stomach.

"Chapter Master, hold still." An Apothecary quietly lectured. "There is serious tissue damage in your intestinal track."

"The damned bugs have fled my wrath." Cetshwakko declared in a deep, growling voice, his tone barely contained rage. "My Crozarius crushed many Tyranid skulls, but I am not yet had my fill of their destruction!"

"Temper it for later, Chaplain. Has anyone seen the Hive Tyrant of these creatures?" Magebaka asked, voice stern and slightly worried.

"My tank crews have not." Ntombela replied.

"Nor have my troops." Cetshwakko answered, still sounding annoyed he had been held back from pursuit.

"And Sergeant Mnguni Tkosin, have any Scout squads?"

Mnguni reported. "No sir."

His blood chilled for a moment, realizing this was not done yet. The slight breath inwards that Ntombela drew in told him the Captain had come to the same realization.

"An invasion is not complete without the appearance of such a massive beast," Magebaka explained, as one of the Apothecaries signaled that he needed to be transported for further surgeries. He nodded, before continuing on. "The Hive-Fleet is not yet done. We must prepare."

"Indeed, the fighting is fierce here, Chapter Master," Ntshingwayo reported from above. "The Fleet is battered, but we still have a long fight ahead, and...Emperor no."

His last words were panicked, shocked and horrified. Magebaka furrowed his brow, clicking on the microbead again. "Captain Ntshingwayo, report!"

"A new portion of the Fleet has appeared, and they are beginning..." It cut out for a moment, an explosion and shaking sounding. "Chapter-Master, the planetary defenses...!"

He was cut off again. Magebaka's blood froze. The clear skies, once a dark contrast, the lively blue in contrast to the blood and gore of the battlefield, were turned deep red, like blood had been spilled across it. Across it, hundreds of pieces of debris, meteors and asteroids, fell to the planet. Even as planetary batteries lanced the skies, vaporizing the debris, there was more then enough to overwhelm the defenses. Asteroid after asteroid struck the planet, dust and debris thrown up into the skies, darkening it. Entirely. Magebaka sat up, eyes widening in shock at what he was seeing.

The ground rumbled and shuddered, the areas of impact cracking and breaking apart, mountains shattered and the skies filled with ash and fire. He did not know where the meteors had landed exactly, but knew that this was a terrible reversal in the direction of the war.

"Everyone, return to your Fortress-Monastery! Retreat with all due speed!" He was met with static on all Vox Channels except Ntshingwayo's, a silent terror clutching at his heart.

He did not think the Tyranids had gathered enough power again to use their usual strategy. He had thought this a scattered, unorganized Hive-Fleet, just trying to recoup its losses against the Blood Angels.

'My foolishness has damned Bulawayo and all within it.' He thought, despondent, as the Apothecaries loaded him onto the Land Raider to be taken back.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The Chapter-Master had returned to the Fortress-Monastery, and was put under, armor carefully removed and peeled off like the skin off an animal by the Tech-Priests, who took it away to the Forges deep within the Monastery, while the Apothecaries got to work finishing up their field work, dressing the wound, fully repairing the deep gashes into his stomach, intestines and flesh, their eyes never even blinking beneath their white helmets, their hands moving quick, assured, with the practice precision of years of medical work.

Slowly, the other forces returned to their Monastery. They were blooded and ashen, their golden-yellow armor now marred with dust and dirt from the fall, their faces grim and dour, red eyes cast down in shame and anger. Dinswayo, Captain of the Honor Guard, was the first to meet the other Marines, looking over them, his narrow features showing no emotion, save the slight horror in his own crimson eyes.

"Where...where are the rest of your companies?" He asked, standing at the front gates with the rest of the Fasimba, looking over few battered tanks and whirlwinds, and the handful of Marines that came stumbling out of the savanna. At the head of this battered host, was Ntombela, face smeared with grime and blood, dour and drawn tight.

"This is it, Honor Guard." He said simply.

"It?" Dinswayo questioned, knowing the Captain of the Third Company was truthful, but not wanting it to be so.

"All that remains. The Tyranids threw space stones. Our world cracks like glass, and most of my brothers are buried beneath the stone, unable to be retrieved with such an attack," Ntombela shock his head, drawing in a tight breath to try and calm himself. "All that's left to wonder, is this a final act of spite for our victory, or the preamble to further humiliations?"

Dinswayo could not answer. Until Sergeant Mnguni returned with his Scouts, they would have to wait. It set him on edge, but he gestured with his head towards the mighty gates of the Fortress-Monastery now opened before them.

"Come, let us pray to the Emperor for guidance, and have a mug of Umqombothi to relax our souls," Dinswayo offered with a weak smile, to try and encourage his brothers.

Ntombela fixed him with a heavy-lidded gaze, turning his head to the side slightly. "You think some Umqombothi will still my despair? Brothers I fought alongside for centuries, against Ork, and Dracolith, and T'au and Eldar and a thousand others, died from rocks and stones, like animals struck by slingers. No beer in the galaxy will take away the sting of such an inglorious end, nor will it calm my mind over leaving them in the dirt."

Dinswayo knew it would not, but he was no Chaplain. No words he gave could ever be a salve for the deep scars upon the tattered companies gathered before him. Ntombela marched past him with a word, only giving a contemptible grunt, as the rest of the Third Company and others followed. He hefted his Chainax up and over his shoulders and went in.

Next came Chaplain Cetshwakko, a Carnodon hide adorning his back and shoulders, an eagle with fiery wings in silver across his chest, and a skull-helmet forged from a Carnodon's feline head. Red eyes gleamed like stars within the sockets.

"A sad sight, it is, to lose brothers. And after so much struggle," He remarked, shaking his head in dismay, his usual booming voice subdued. "I will guide the brothers in silent meditation and prayer until Magebaka awakens again."

Dinswayo nodded, and looked back as other Tech-Marines and servitors and serfs began to work on the various vehicles and crippled and near-ruined Dreadnoughts, working overtime to repair systems, replace wiring and ease the Machine Spirits.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Magebaka was told by the Apothecaries to stay still and let his natural Astartes-borne strengths and biology finishing the work of the surgeries and their dressing of the wound, but he was not one to listen well. He was active in getting details, though kept to his bed, his stomach covered in bandages. Gathered, where what was left of the various Company leaders, including Ntombela of the Third Company, Mkabayi of the Second, Chaplain Cetshwakko, and Senzakhona of the Fifth Company. All the companies had been bleed by the fighting, but now the Chapter was barely at half strength. He was having the armor put back on, the serfs and Servitors carefully applying and putting the fresh and repaired plates of admantium back upon him, as he heard their reports.

Mkabayi spoke, obviously trying to keep his emotions in check. "We don't even know if the Tyranids have established their Hive nodes and digestion pools. We didn't believe they had gathered the strength to give such an attack."

"The best we can hope for is the Tyranids were defeated, and that assault was a last act of spite." Senzakhona remarked, sounding like he was trying to convince himself.

As the shoulder armor sank into position and clicked into place with the other Powered Armor plates and turned his head towards Ntombela. "Have you nothing to say, Captain?"

"Most of the men under my command, my bonded brothers, are laying in the dirt, their bodies rotting and armor rusting," He replied tightly, shaking his head. "I will say nothing until I have purged every single Tyranid from the system, and lead my refreshed Company into battle against every other Hive."

"Then you will be hunting here for a while, Captain," Mnguni declared, walking into the chamber, as the leadership of the Chapter turned to him. Despite being a sergeant, he showed no signs of decorum or respect for the Captains or Chapter-Master. His acid-scared face was neutral, his expression hard to read. "I took my scouts after the meteor storm, and they have moved through the countryside. The Tyranids have established their hive nodes and towers across multiple parts of the world."

"Have they been awakened?" Senzakhona asked, turning to the Sergeant, eager for answers.

He shook his head. "Nope. I myself spotted the Tyrant and its guard in one of the thickest hives."

Magebaka leaned back, stroking his chin with his normal hand, thinking hard for a moment. "How strong is the hive structures?"

Mnguni scratched the side of his neck, clicking his tongue slightly. "Well, strong defenses, floating spore mines, but it was still expanding outwards when we observed it. Not quite at the strength of the Hive structures I saw during my battles at Jukan Rift or Lorth."

Magebaka was thinking hard for a moment, silent as he calculated things for a moment. "I think the three attack waves were sent to distract us. With our numbers weakened, and their foothold growing, we have been put in a very tenuous position."

'Tenuous position' was a way for him to keep the problem under control, to not let it spiral out of control in his mind. His plans were coming together, but with the numbers and loses that had been endured, he had no way of launching an attack. His forces could either abandon the monastery's defense, or give up and let the Tyranids devour portions of the world.

"We should get our Apothecaries to develop a Neuro-toxin of some kind. I have heard the Blood Ravens of Sub-Sector Auriela and a group of Xenos T'au did the same." Magebaka declared. "With the fleet being small, such a poison would be a death blow."

"If we had the time," Mnguni replied, pointing out behind, as if gesturing to a something in the fortress. "The Xenos horde is on the move again. Their pods have landed and more creatures are focusing in on our position here."

Magebaka's jaw set, as he took a sharp breath in. "Ready our defenses, deploy mines and turrets and prepare for the fight to come."

The other Marines stoically accepted what that meant. This was a loss. Their only option was to fight with every fiber of their being, to make every Marine fight as if an army onto themselves. It would be difficult, but it was duty of the Sons of Vulkan, no matter how far they went from Nocturne, to fight for the protection of humanity and people of the Imperium.

They would have to fight and endure, even though most of them knew this was more then likely their final stand. Soon, their Chapter would be simply a memory, and be immortalized only through the tolling of the Bell of Lost Souls.

Magebaka's only regret for the coming battle, was that, more then likely, the people of Bulawayo would also be lost. He only wished the Tyranid fleet would be so weakened, they could at least mopped by whatever Imperial reinforcements finally arrived.

'At least let our deaths be paid in a worthy sacrifice.' Magebaka thought grimly, as he took up his weapons once more.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

As the Ukhozi prepared every trap, every defensive measure, every trap, prepared and prepped to give their foes a hard hit for every inch they took from the Fire Eagles. The Marines were grim-faced as they worked, no one saying a word as traps of razor wire that would spring from the ground, fragmentation and incendiary mines were put in place, and their remaining tanks and Dreadnoughts were positioned at the best possible spots to provide what fire support they could. Magebaka stood atop a hill, overlooking all of the work his Chapter was putting together.

Dinswayo stood a little further down and away, looking up to the Chapter-Master expectedly, before his superior spoke. "Dinswayo, were we correct to intercept the Orks at the Karagg system?"

The Honor Guard Captain looked to him, confused and silent for a moment, not sure why he was asking. "What do you mean? Of course. It's the duty of Vulkan's sons to shield any innocent humans from the threat of the alien or Chaos."

"And what good has it done now? Our homeworld is to be consumed, and us along with it." He remarked, shaking his head in dismay. "If we had left it to the Guard, perhaps our numbers would be stronger in the face of this threat."

Dinswayo turned in shock towards the Chapter-Master, furrowing his brow at those words, his voice low and venomous. "Are you serious? You insult Vulkan with those words alone."

"We have already been bled from the Ork rampage, and now the best we can manage is a few squads banded together as a company," Magebaka said, shaking his head in dismay. "If we even survive this, it will take centuries to recover our full strength."

"We had no way of knowing what was to come, and even if we did, would you accept letting civilians die so we may possibly have some longer term tactical advantage?" Dinswayo asked, cocking his head slightly to the side. "That sounds less like our Primarch, and more like the actions taken by the Iron Hands and their kin."

Magebaka sighed, stroking his chin with his free hand as he chewed over those words. "You are right, Dinswayo. This is why you should've been chosen by Company Captains during the Indaba."

Dinswayo shook his head. "No. You are leader. I'm a warrior. All I can do is swing an ax. Any woodsman can do that."

Magebaka could only nod to him again. It was good to hear support, but it did not assuage his guilt. An entire world's culture and people were on his shoulders. Failure here meant the end of their Chapter, and of the Bulawayo entirely, and any other worlds caught in the path of the refreshed Jormungandr. With no other option, he had only to wait for the next wave of Tyranids to come to him and his warriors.

'Emperor keep us til the duty is done.'

\\\\\\\\\\\\

The Scouts under Mnguni were once more positioned around the causeways, savannas, and plains, Sniper Rifles and scanning equipment tuned to any movement, while their Cameleoline cloaks provided some cover and concealment from the prying eyes of the Tyranid hordes, as they lumbered and pushed forward towards the Fortress-Monastery once more, their swarms renewed, their numbers still uncountable.

This time, however, they were not merely observing. While Mnguni and other sergeants sent their data back to the main army, he took aim and prepared the first shot. He had spoken with the other Scout sergeants, and made his position clear. He wanted to take the first shot at them. He may have not shown it, but his heart roiled from the blow against the Chapter as much as Ntombela. Mnguni had trained many of those battle-brothers and seen their inauguration into the Chapter as battle-line forces with pride.

'Their deaths will not be brushed aside so easily, bug-beasts.' He thought to himself, taking aim at one of the Zoanthropes that floated among some of the Gaunt broods.

The Alien Psykers were known to produce a shield to protect themselves, and despite their frail appearance, were dangerous for the powers their malformed brain could conjure. But, it was that power that made their deaths so difficult for the Swarm to survive or weather. He cleared his mind, removing any anger, rage or regret from his conscious.

"For my students." He whispered, as he took half a breath out, and fired.

The shot rang out, zooming across the savanna in seconds. Normally, a Zoanthrope would be able to erect a psychic shield, a bubble of void energy, around itself and deflect any attacks that could damage its frail, atrophied form. But the speed of the attack was such that, when the creature turned to the sound of the attack, as did numerous other Tyranids near it, it didn't have time to react before the high-speed, armor-penetrating round smashing through its brain and completely splattered it. The creature released a half-strangled yelp of pain, before a wave of psychic energy burst out, like a death knell, that threw multiple Tyranid creatures off their feet and onto the ground.

Warriors and Raveners turned in the direction of the shot, only for more Sniper rounds fired out, striking into the exposed eyes, chests and other parts of the creatures, cutting them down. Mnguni felt his hearts swell with pride at the sight of his squad striking with such fury against the beasts. As he fired another round into a Warrior, it gave him hope, however small, however fragile, that the Chapter's future could have a bright light at the end of the tunnel.

Raveners speared into the earth, disappearing in an instant, as Mnguni spoke into the microbead. "Ukhozi, honor your namesake, and find a new perch to strike from!"

The Tyranids continued on, their pace quicker then before, perhaps recognizing on some level he and the other Scouts were merely a distraction. He nodded to one of the other Scouts, who brought up his missile launcher, aimed it, and fired, aimed at the largest concentration of Tyranids. Across the ravines and savannas, the missiles struck, some striking Carnifex hide, others turning the gathered swarm into half-vaporized chunks of Tyranid flesh and bone scattered across the ground.

Mnguni was not surprised. This Swarm was too focused and intelligent to be feral. Most Tyranids, when they suffered a major defeat, would be reduced to animal-levels of intelligence and instinct, needing to feed to regain strength and connection to the Hive-Mind. If he had to hazard a guess, they were feeding on some minor worlds and cultures before they had reached Bulawayo. Such theories had no place, when he and his students needed to make their escape.

As the squads began to pull back and retreat away from the site. Mnguni and his Scouts moved quick, racing along the rocks and highlands, Mnguni and the Sergeants keeping their eyes on the ground and keeping a careful ear for any movement or sounds from the ground. They ran, the squads checking their weapons and supplies, getting further and further to the sloops, where they could go and reposition to continue their harassment of the Tyranid swarms.

As they neared the end of the plateau, Mnguni stepped first, along with two of the other sergeants, to make sure everything was clear for the rest of the Scouts coming down. He took two steps, before freezing, and holding up a hand to the others. He turned, red burning with surprise, reaching for his Bolt pistol side-arm.

"Incoming!" Was all he managed to get out, before the ground below them exploded, dirt and soil thrown in his face, as the creatures surged from the ground.

Each was a serpentine, sinuous horror, bodies long and whip-like, their limbs already raised for the strike. Mnguni may have taught Scouts, but he was no novice, bringing his pistol out, and firing several rounds into the closest Ravener, splattering its lower jaw and neck with expert percision, before ducking and rolling away as another slashed at him, its long, bone blades barely missing his carapace armor.

The creatures closed, but Mnguni knew Scout teams well enough to know that, like any hunter, a Marine must have the means to kill at any range. The Tribes and Clans they came from would, for example, use the Assegai to throw, or for reach, while the Iklwa was used to close and gut the prey or enemy. And so, with that in mind, the Assegai had been thrown, and now the other Scouts brought the Iklwa.

Or, in less poetic terms, the Astartes Pattern Shotguns.

The Neophytes may not have been full Astartes, but the kick of a Shotgun was more then enough these creatures down. They charged forward, flicking the safety off, and firing as they closed into the Raveners. Shotgun rounds shredded through the first few Raveners, the Scouts pumping their guns after every shot, striking into the serpentine creatures as they charged into melee. Blade and claws were swung at the Scouts, the young warriors yelling and giving battle cries to the Emperor, blasting the creatures as they drew close. The other Scouts drew out their pistols and Bolters, the bolters belching out hot lead shells, striking the Raveners, even as more broke through from the ground.

Mnguni remained focused, discarding the used magazine, before firing pulling out the aforementioned Iklwa. The shaft gave it the length of a short sword, with a somewhat long blade, but looked much shorter then the spears used by the Honor Guard. Every Ukhozi carried such a spear, forged in a lengthy ritual in the Monastery's forges. To the Ukhozi, the Iklwa was a symbol of their connection to the homeworld and its culture. Each and every time they got to use them, was a time of excitement for them. Mnguni fired into another Ravener, striking into its chest, the creature whipping around and slashing through the air at him. The Scout Sergeant ducked and weaved through the strikes, before slamming shoulder-first into the creature, knocking it back. It roared in surprise more then pain, the tackle not doing much to the creature, but still throwing it back with his weight behind it.

He drove his spear into the neck first, then beneath its armored ribs, driving it upwards and into its lungs, feeling the blade cut and push through sinew and organ as he did, his teeth bared in a determined grimace. Cut the throat first, let them choke on their blood. Stab deep into the lung, and any air left in their lungs will fill with blood. It was a practiced maneuver he had mastered in the many centuries of training scouts and engaging in espionage. It worked against Eldar, Ork, traitor humans, and now, these Devil-Bugs.

It did not go quietly, however, the creature thrashing about, even as its lungs and throat filled with foul alien blood. Mnguni grunted and snarled to himself, ripping out the Iklwa, before driving it into the creature's mouth. Blood sprayed across his, Mnguni immediately spitting it out, coughing slightly at the foul taste, before tearing the Spear out, and stepping over the creature, before firing on another Ravener. As it turned, the Scout it had slashed across the chest grabbed his shotgun, pumped it, and fired into the back of its head, spraying xenos gore across the field.

The battle carried on, the Shotgun-armed Scouts pulling back a few steps, as their bolter and pistol-armed comrades shielded them as they reloaded, pushing shells into the shotgun, before raking their guns, and charging back into the fray. By the time they were done, half a dozen Scouts lay dead, but every single Ravener was left splattered, gutted and shot to pieces, the only movement now their twitching forms. Mnguni slowly sheathed his Short Spear and holstered his bolt pistol. The other scouts were battered and cut up from the attacks, but were still standing.

"Tend your wounds, then be ready to move," Mnguni ordered brusquely. With the state of their Chapter, even a few dead Scouts was like a death blow. "We are not yet finished with this fight."

The Scouts gathered what weapons and equipment they could from their fallen comrades, unsheathed and placed their Iklwa on their chests as a final respects, and followed their sergeants. The battle was only just beginning, and the Ukhozi were still on the cusp of death.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The main battle at the Fortress-Monastery was already hell. Explosions tore through the ground all around them, Bolter, Plasma and Melta rounds flying all about, reducing every wave of Tyranids to splattered gore, melted bodies, and flash-fried corpses, and yet another wave would always crash down upon the wary Ukhozi, the golden-yellow armor now stained with red and black-green blood, Assegai Spears, Chainswords and other melee weapons turned to the cause of smashing through their enemies with reckless abandon, other Battleline squads firing their weapons, carefully counting every shot, going for the leadership castes among the invading insects. And yet for every wave that fell before them, a new wave charged at them.

Magebaka stood at the forefront, Power Fist now covered from finger tip to wrist in Tyranic ichor, while his Artificer Armor was covered in burns and three large gashes across the chest. He cared little, still pushing himself onwards, the Fasimba and Dinswayo at his side. A Warrior Prime fired its Devourer Canon, Dinswayo turning his body and letting it strike the thick-platted shoulder, before charging and cleaving the creature's skull in.

Elsewhere, Chaplain Cetshwakko was in the middle of battle, yelling curses and oaths of violence and bloodshed in both High Gothic, and in his native tongue, his Crosarius swinging with reckless abandon, the Warrior-Priest thrilling in the sensation of his mace-like weapon reducing the smaller Gaunt broods that leapt at him to paste, before turning his wrath upon the larger leaders.

"Come then, Devil-Bugs! One, a hundred, a thousand, I do not care!" Cetshwakko roared above the explosions and shrieks of Tyranids. "I will claim your entire Hive-Fleet before I let you eat one scrape of dirt off our sacred home!"

Dinswayo kicked another warrior to the ground, turning for a brief moment to look at the Chaplain, several yards away, caving in skulls, firing his Melta at anything that dared crossed him, the Marines near him clearly fighting more to keep up with their leader then anything else.

"I fear for the Imperium if a mad man like Cetshwakko ever falls to Chaos." Dinswayo remarked with a forced grin to the Chapter-Master, concentrating back on the fight.

Magebaka appreciated the Captain's attempts at humor. It was something in the face of this horde, at least. Very little could lighten the mood however. There was too much to face, too much at stake, to really enjoy even a snide remark.

Magebaka and Fasimba continued on, fighting through everything they could, before the ground began to shake. He furrowed his brow, turning as a roar sounded, and a massive creature slammed into him. It was a massive creature, black shell-like armor over its back, collar and shoulder, flared into large spikes at the end. It lumbered on its feet and knuckles, while its other arms ended in two pincers locked on his arms, and pushing him backwards. Other beasts similar to it, armed with Scything Talons, organic whips and bone swords, charged in as well, his Fasimba bracing themselves and preparing their spears for the charge. The creatures met them head-on, spear-points jammed into their forms and tearing through chitin, the creatures striking with their own weapons.

At the center of this roiling mass of gigantic, towering beasts, was one of the largest Tyranids Magebaka had ever laid eyes upon. It lumbered forward, hooves smashing through the dirt, one clawed hand clutching a Bone Sword, the other a large whip-like growth. Below it, was a limb converted into a large, organic cannon, supported by the other hand. Magebaka leveled the Combi-Bolter up to the Tyrant Guard's chin, and pulled the trigger, bolter rounds striking into the creature and smashing through its head. The creature staggered, giving a garbled, gurgled scream of pain,spitting up blood. It staggered back, stamping its secondary arms into the ground. He rushed forward, firing another barrage of Bolters, as the creature tried to charge, trying to snap at him with its crushing claws.

He turned the gun down, and as the creature roared, trying to snatch at him, Magebaka swung the Power Fist around and grabbed the Tyrant Guard by the head and crushing it with some resistance. He pushed past it, charging forward, as Dinswayo swung his ax, going against the Hive Tyrant itself. It parried every blow with its Bone Sword, deflecting the blow of the Power Ax, Dinswayo staggering from the strength of the blow, before repositioning and swinging again. His face was calm, as always, serene and calm, but his mouth closed tight, his eyes focused.

Dinswayo had been chosen by the past Captains and leadership during the Indaba, the meeting of chieftains and leaders in their tongue. He had won that position through his years, centuries of battle against countless foes, so many honors that it would take weeks for others to read through them and understand them. But Magebaka knew that even with his skill and experience, that a Hive Tyrant could not be broken by one mere Marine, even a member of the Honor Guard. Magebaka fired what remained of the Bolter, the Hive Tyrant turning its head slightly, striking Dinswayo aside. The creature turned fully, its glowing eyes filled with a malevolent intelligence, a will beyond that of merely a pack leader among animals. There was something else far worse then an animal behind those eyes.

It charged at him, ground shaking and breaking under its weight with every step. It snapped its arm up, the Flesh Whip snapping above its head, before swinging it, the whip striking and the small blades at the end hitting Magebaka and forcing him back a step. The creature aimed fired the Venom canon, as it swung the whip again. The blast hit him in the chest, before the whip lashed at his shoulder, scratching against the golden armor. He grunted, firing the Flamer portion of his weapon at the creature, the torrent of flames at the beast. Parts of it burned with the heat and fire, the creature roaring more in agitation then any pain, before charging again.

It swung the Bone Sword at him, Magebaka barely managing to deflect the blow with his Power Fist, the back of it baring a deep gash now, as the Chapter-Master charged, swinging a punch into the creature's stomach, forcing it back a step, then swinging again. At the same time Dinswayo charged in, hefting his Power Ax up and swinging it into the creature's side, striking armor, tearing it free, and preparing to strike again, before the creature swung its Bone Sword about in a back-hand, barely missing The Honor Guard Captain as it did. Dinswayo tucked and rolled away, jumped back up and fired his Melta Gun, right at where the creature's strike from earlier had hit. The beam struck, burning Flesh, as the creature angled its body away with a roar, firing its Venom Canon at the same time, burning Dinswayo's chest with a single shot.

As it backed away from the two, the Flesh Whip swung again, striking at the ground in front of Magebaka. He grunted in annoyance. They were barely damaging this thing, and it was cutting into their armor with slow but careful precision, even the chaotic mess of melee. He clicked on his Microbead.

"Any Terminators left, teleport to this position, now!" He yelled, as he charged again.

He met the creature again, alongside Dinswayo, the two striking with all the fury they could, the creature deflecting and blocking their hits with its Bone Sword, parrying and slashing back at them with all the practice of an expert fencer or duelist. It drove Magebaka to greater fury, this creature acting as an imitation of some honest warrior. At least the Aeldari, Ork, and other Xenos had intelligence, had some blighted, disgusting culture to call their own. Striking them down proved the superiority of mankind in all things.

But this? This was a mere animal, a hungry beast with a Hive Mind behind it, parodying their strength and power. Its Tyrant Guard, its sword swings, it all felt as if the creature was attempting to mock the strength and power behind him and his Fasimba Guard. He felt his chest burn with fury, his eyes narrow as he activated the Iron Halo, the next shot from the Venom Canon melting against the shield produced, as he swung again.

The creature was injured, but not enough to drive it out or weaken it. It kept up its defense, deflecting their blows, and striking at them, the two struggling to keep up. As it fought with them, it turned its head upwards, and roared, a loud, ear-piercing shriek that was felt deep in their bones. The ground shook, Dinswayo and Magebaka looking about in shock, before hordes of Raveners exploded from beneath, claws and blades swinging wildly as they did, already striking at them before the dust could even clear. Magebaka side-stepped one, grabbing it by the oily, fleshy tail, and hefted it up, swinging it about with all his strength, and slamming it down like a hammer onto another.

The remaining Tyrant Guard and Raveners threw themselves at the Chapter-Master and his Honor Guard, a storm of claws, blades, teeth and horrid symbiotic weaponry, thrown upon them like a storm. As Dinswayo cut through another serpent with his ax, the air crackled with electricity and power, a harsh wine going through the air, before an explosion of light sounded in their midst. From the tear in reality, came the Terminators of the Flame Ukhozi. They did not waste time, Power Claws and Hammers swinging and smashing enemies to pieces, Storm Bolters and Assault Canons roaring into action, their heavy caliber guns reducing any Tyrant Guard, no matter their armor and chitin-covered muscle, to mashed meat on the ground.

Here, the Ukhozi's honored veterans, Izi-Cwe, lumbered into battle, shrugging off every blow, and bringing their slow, pounding fists and claws to the enemy, crushing anything before them with the cold, tender mercies of the Astartes. Their wrath was barely contained, their helmets hiding their faces contorted in rage and bloodlust. The Izi-Cwe, or Bushmen, were the veterans known for aggression and fervor in battle. They had earned their Crux Terminus among the Ukhozi through near-suicidal bravery, and it showed here. They had no concern for their damage, no weapon striking or glancing their armor stopped them.

The Fasimba formed up beside them, in ordered ranks, keeping up the fight. The Hive Tyrant, however, was unconcerned, fighting through them, striking and lashing out at the Terminators with even greater fury, as if to mirror the wrath and rage within the Izi-Cwe. Their lips curled in disgust, their eyes blazed with fury. Their silent anger boiled within, but they never released a shout or battle cry, only meeting the Tyranids' animalistic hunger and anger with cold disgust. The Tyrant seemed to realize the Marines were pushing against it, going to take its head and decapitate the entire Tyranid advance. It roared, as more Hormagaunts, Termagants and Warriors charged into the fray, putting their bodies between their master and his pursuers.

Magebaka fired another barrage of bullets at the creature. "Do not let it escape! Do not worry of the numbers, we must win!"

The numbers were too much, even for the Terminators and Honor Guard, but they pushed on, the Hive Tyrant backing away again and again, more and more coming from the flanks, above them, and below them. Shrikes and Gargoyles swooped down, boiling green projectiles flying out and striking against the armor, Scything Talons and claws sweeping through the air and striking against Spear and Thunder Hammer. Magebaka knew that, even this advance could not win, that the Hive Tyrant was simply waiting for them to tire.

'I will not let you win, creature. I will reclaim this world from you!' Magebaka thought in a rage, as the Hive Tyrant turned to him, its fanged maw bent in a twisted grin, as if it could hear his thoughts.

Such a display only drove him to greater rage. He mashed another Warrior to near-powder, before his Microbead activated, Ntshingwayo speaking. "Chapter-Master, help has arrived."

In that moment, the skies above darkened, the Hive Tyrant looking up in shock, as if it could sense the new arrivals too, as the other Tyranids turned their heads upwards, shrieking and hissing in rage and disbelief. As they did, numerous drop pods fell from the skies, and, among the countless, endless hordes of the Tyranids, the honored allies, bound by oaths of blood and wars fought together in battlefields across the galaxy, arrived.

The green armored forms of the Hound Keepers came out, firing bolters and weapons, Dreadnoughts smashing into Carnifexes, while Power Swords cleaved a bloody path through them. The High Fakir, Chief Librarian, a man whose skin was as dark as the Ukhozi, strode forward, eyes glowing blue, as he leveled his left hand upwards, as a wall of flames exploded from his armored finger tips, incinerating every Tyranid before him.

"Brothers, you arrived!" Magebaka managed through his bloody mouth, stumbling from exhaustion and the various wounds inflicted by the Tyranids.

"Yes, The Hound Keepers do not let a Hive-Fleet stop them!" He declared, holding up his hand as fires burned in the center of his palm, his Force Staff glowing with psychic energy. "Stay on your feet, Flame Eagles, your proud history need not end here!"

Another series of drop pods fell, furnished gray and black. From this, came another Chapter of Marines, dressed in entirely black armor, with red eyes on the helmets, and white symbols. They brought Bolter and Heavy weapons to bear, striking silently, as Assault Marines jumped out from the Pods, and flew through the air, slamming into key positions across the Tyranid lines, Chainswords hacking and cutting into the countless Alien beasts, pistols firing at others. On their left shoulder, bore their Chapter icon, a white cross, and at the top of it, a circle, with an armored fist carrying a knife pointed downwards.

The Hive Tyrant growled to itself, before turning and running off as fast as its mighty form could carry it. The other Tyranids seemed to pick up on this, fleeing as well, Shrikes taking to the air, Raveners burrowing into the ground. The three Chapters worth of Marines held their ground, firing off shots at the fleeing Tyranids, trying to take down as many as they could before they could regroup. Hound Keeper Dreadnoughts and Tanks fired shots as well, as Magebaka took a deep breath, sighing in relief, stumbling for a moment, as he forced himself to stand.

He could feel Tyranid acid burning at the armor, deep, bloody gashes in the armor. They had sent out the call for aid via their astropathic choir, but no one had responded, as if the void had swallowed their message. He was worried their allies would only learn of their assault years after their demise. But as always, the Chapters the Ukhozi had fought alongside for centuries had proven their worth.

Mohamed Avdol stepped forward, a wary smile on his scared features, as he held out a hand to Magebaka, the Chapter-Master taking it and shaking it, as the Apothecaries from the three Chapters got to work, tending to the injured Marines across the battlefield, Tech-Marines carefully repairing what they could from the three vehicles, intoning the words of the Machine and Cult Mechanicus.

"Feel proud, Fire Eagle, your chapter's bravery has saved your world." Avdol stated, Magebaka giving only a grateful smile and nod in reply.

The leader of the Angels of Purification came forward, a Corvus helmet covering their face, and spoke, voice modulated and heavily altered. "The Emperor has delivered us from the jaws of defeat, but this fight is not over. Let us go to the Fortress-Monastery, Honored Magebaka. We have more battles to plan."

Magebaka kept a breath face, but his heart sank. There were many Tyranids left, and if they did not move quick, their victories here would mean nothing.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

As the warriors of the three Chapters gathered to discuss their plans, Ukhozi setting down in the barracks and resting lodges of the Monastery's inner workings to catch their breath and rest for a few minutes before the next battle, their Vox Channels buzzed to life once more, again from Captain Ntshingwayo spoke again.

"Chapter-Master, another vessel arrives." The Captain informed him. "Inquisition markings and signals, sir."

Magebaka furrowed his eyebrows, looking to Avdol and the Angel leader, Captain Bellamy. Even here, the Black-armored warrior did not remove his helmet, sitting down and leaning their Chainsword slightly in hand, holy icons hanging from the chest and left shoulder, while the right, bore a marble-white gryphon, wings stretching across the shoulder armor, talons out-stretched.

"Did either of you call the Inquisition?" He asked wearily. He had heard what some Ordo Xenos members did when encountering Tyranids. The edge of Imperial space was littered with the remains of the mass exterminatus campaign.

Bellamy shook their head. "No. We left the main fleet and arrived here the moment our Choir received your message."

Avdol spoke up next. "Unless Nureddin said something while in his campaign at the Tharnis system, we have not spoken to the Inquisition."

That did nothing to set Magebaka's mind at ease. He clenched his Power Fist, jaw set tightly. What was the Inquisition doing, snooping around his homeworld, at a time like this? They were always up to something, the damned Ordos. They may do the Emperor's work, but too many innocent worlds had been condemned, too many lives thrown away searching for artifacts that corrupted the Inquisitor as badly as any heretic, for him to ever truly trust them.

The Vox channels buzzed and scrambled for a moment, before the Inquisitor in question spoke, a woman's voice. "Chapter-Master Magebaka Gumende, this is Inquisitor Vittorina Graham. Requesting permission for myself and my entourage to make planetfall and join you at your Monastery."

"You may, but what is the meaning of this sudden appearance?" He asked gruffly, narrowing his eyes.

She seemed to hesitate for a moment, he could hear her chewing her lip. "It would be too complicated to answer here. I can explain everything once I land."

He groaned to himself. There was no point in saying no. It would only make his situation worse. "Fine. But do not attempt trickery."

"Quite the opposite, Lord. I intend to kill the Tyranids utterly in one masterful stroke." She replied confidently, before cutting out to land.

He shook his head, before turning to a few of his Marines taking inventory, who instantly came to attention the moment they noticed his gaze. "Prepare for the Inquisitor's arrival. Make sure her entourage and her get here, and attempt no...questionable acts."

The sergeant nodded once. "Yes sir."

The Gun Cutter that Graham used to transport herself and her retinue, landed in one of the under ground hangars, the soil shifting and pulling apart as the bay doors underneath pulled open, and the Cutter circled twice, before landing. The ship's landing gear unfurled, as the ship landed, the hangar doors closing over it, and the ship lowered itself past the layers and layers of dug out earth, defenses on every layer, smaller alcoves and dug-outs across it, bearing automated sentry guns, weapon platforms and other defenses if anyone got into this hangar. Further down they went, the area darkened, until they reached the bottom, the landing area she had set down in lite by a few scattered lights set up for any who landed. Her ship landed alongside an assort of Thunderhawks and other gunships for the Chapter, Graham careful as she brought the ship down.

Her acting retinue gathered at the back of the Cutter, as she shut off the controls, killed the engines and opened the bay doors. One was a large, 7 foot tall creature, its pointed snout and gray-black, smooth flesh resembling a shark, with a small fin on its long neck, and a long, curved tail. It had a series of tubes running to its gills, connected to armor across its chest and back, while its muscled arms were bare. Alongside it, was an Imperial Guardsmen, his legs and shoulders covered in Flak armor, but his chest and arms bare, covered in a series of ritual tattoos, resembling dragons amid the fire, while his checks, arms and stomach bore a series of scars, making white patterns against his tanned skin. He was shorter then even Graham, but ferociously built, with various daggers and knives hanging from his belt, and a Long Las Sniper Rifle across his back.

"Let's go." She stated.

Graham was a slight woman, even in her power armor, colored black, with skulls embossed along the shoulders, knees and boots, with her cloak and vestments under the armor colored red. She had short, black hair and a cybernetic right eye, and, while her right arm was covered in the same black powered armor, the other was a cybernetic implant, with a small knife-mechanism built into the wrist. She gestured with her head, the two nodding and following her from the landing gear of the ship.

The three made their way out, to be greeted by four Tactical Marines of the Flame Ukhozi, armed with bolters. Their armor was pitted with scars and burn markings, obviously having been in the thick of fighting. Their leader stomped ahead of his brothers, three scars over his right eye, now white, a slight beard and short, close-cut hair, slightly gray. He eyes here, before his keen eye focused in on the shark-like being.

"You come to us to fight Xenos, and bring one to our homeworld?" He said in a low, raspy voice.

"Mol'chari is a Saharduin, but he is under the auspices of the Sanctioned Xenos category," She explained, pointing a thumb at him. "He is a bodyguard and muscle for my retinue."

The Sergeant narrowed his eyes, before grunting, shaking his head and turning. "Follow. Chapter Master Magebaka is waiting."

She and her two agents followed, the four Marines not saying a word to the group. It was deathly quiet, except for the lumbering, thundering foot falls of the Astartes. Whatever thoughts they had on her, they were keeping to themselves, but she could feel from their minds that they did not like her. The weariness of the fighting, the constant bloodshed, the losses of their brothers, was wearing them thin. She would have to make sure not to step on their toes, metaphorically, when discussing her plan.

The place was filled with Marines, but none seemed to be the Ukhozi. She looked around in confusion, blinking slightly at the sight. Green and black armored warriors, but none of the golden-yellow of the Chapter this was the homeworld of. The sergeant seemed to pick up on her confusion at the sight.

"You should've come a little earlier, Inquisitor," He remarked over his shoulder. "Most of our brothers are busy being dead."

"How...?" She began to ask.

"We were already bloodied from a fight with Orks," He cut in, shaking his head. "Its only by the arrival of our allies that we aren't limping to our graves."

Her jaw clenched, nervously running her fingers against her implanted wrist. She had hoped she could get here before the main fighting had begun, but as always, the Warp was tricky to navigate, and made such travel as random as the roll of a dice. They continued on, marching through the monastery without a word, until they reached the central sanctum. It was here where the massive doors were opened for them, the four stopping outside, the sergeant gesturing for her to go in. Without another word, she did so, her and her two agents stepping inside.

Before the great shrine and various tables and trophies of the Flame Ukhozi, were Captain Bellamy, Fakir Avdol and Chapter-Master Magebaka, as well as the leadership of other companies, including Mnguni and Ntombela, all standing and speaking of their next plan of action, before all three turned their eyes on the entering Inquisitor. They eyed the Inquisitor and her duo wearily, none of them sure what to make of the stranger or her arrival here. Magebaka studied her the most, his face as hard and emotionless as granite, before he rose from his seat, towering over the Inquisitor and slowly stepping towards her.

"What brings the Inquisition to my hearth?" He questioned, voice low and controlled.

"I am Inquisitor Vittorina Graham, acting as agent of the Ordo Monstrum," She explained. "Your world has something of interest."

Avdol furrowed his brow, stepping forward, as he stroked his chin. "Monstrum? I've never heard that Order."

"One of the Ordo Minoris?" Bellamy intoned quietly.

"Y-yes." She replied nervously. "Our duty is the searching, research and cataloging of creatures of unusual size."

"You'll find plenty here, then." Magebaka remarked, gesturing with his Power Fist's thumb towards a free Tyranid head mounted on the wall. "We have bugs the size of tanks, and larger, here."

"It's not the bugs I am after." She answered, looking up at the Chapter-Master's crimson eyes. "It's where you get your name from."

His eyes briefly flashed with anger, before returning to a neutral expression, Mnguni and Ntombela looking to him in worry. "Flame Eagles is merely a reference to our Salamander heritage. Ukhozi is a native word, nothing more."

"So there is nothing below the volcano in Mt. Ulaka?" She asked, putting both hands on her hips. "You don't know anything about a... 'Umlilo Idimoni', a Fire Daemon?"

Magebaka's face remained neutral, but his tone tight and guarded, his free hand clenching into a fist, Ntombela's eyes flaring in barely-contained anger, as the Chapter-Master spoke. "Watch your tone, Inquisitor. You are guest in my home. Custom allows you safety. It does not give you the right to accuse and insult your hosts."

"The Ordo Monstrum knows of the Fire Daemon, and we want to unleash it." She said point-blank.

Magebaka's head pulled back slightly, as if he had been struck, Bellamy and Avdol turning to him with some confusion and surprise at his reaction.

"Chapter-Master, Brother, what does she mean?" Avdol asked, blinking slightly, as he eyed the Inquisitor sideways. "I know your people offer ritual sacrifice at Mt. Ulaka, but that is dedicated to the Emperor? Your tribes are not worshiping a Warp-borne horror, are...?"

"No." He interrupted sternly, grinding his teeth slightly. He was already regretting letting this Inquisitor onto his homeworld. "It was a creature here before we arrived. One of the Custodes and advisers to Malcador, when our Founding occurred, tasked us with keeping whatever was within asleep."

"And you adopted the appearance and name of the very thing you safe-guarded." Graham stated, but surprised at the revelation of who had ordered it.

"Only to keep it from rampaging across Bulawayo," He explained. "The meat of Grox and cattle herds, the drug-laced beer, all was to keep it sated. We were told only that it was to be kept asleep, nothing more. To make it easier, we transferred the Fire Daemon into local beliefs and traditions."

"They told you nothing else?" Graham asked, noting every detail mentally that she could.

"Guard the Fire Bird, ensure it never ravages Bulawayo," Magebaka explained, as if repeating lines that had been passed along the Chapter for centuries, along with their prayers and battle cries. "We've maintained our purity, specifically because the government officials did not want the rest of the Imperium to know."

Graham nodded slightly, taking note of the secrecy, and wondering why her Order had not been told when this was the sort of situation it was formed for, before turning her gaze back to the Chapter-Master. "My Order will take responsibility for this, but we have to awaken it."

"If the Ecclesiarchy finds out our people have been paying homage to a giant beast down there, we will be treated like the Badb War Pawn-Chapters. Perhaps worse," He protested, shaking his head. "I won't damn my Homeworld and Chapter, and hand the knife that cuts our throat to the Priests and Hereticus, instead of the Tyranids."

"I have no desire to see your homeworld purged. You were given a mission, you fulfilled it." She replied. "If the Inquisition takes issue with it, they can speak to the Custodes about this."

Magebaka shook his head. "Easy for you to say. You do not have these threats to your homeworld."

"Magebaka, if I may speak up, what would the harm be in awakening this creature?" Avdol asked, looking between him and the Inquisitor. "How powerful is it? Would it truly be that dangerous."

"It once laid to waste several cities by traveling quickly across Terra before even the Dark Age of Technology," Graham explained. "But, when faced with the old Xenos threats, it would be roused to anger and defend the planet."

"I think we can work with that," Avdol suggested, looking back to Magebaka for support. "The creature can devastate Jormungandr, and hopefully, the fight will leave it weakened enough for us to finish if it turns on us."

Graham was amused by such an idea. Very few creatures from the Forgotten Age could be slain by mortal weapons. The Emperor was only able to disperse them throughout the Dark Age and before due to his incredible power. She just hoped the Fire Demon was not going to be a problem, given they didn't have anything close to the God-Emperor in power.

Finally, Magebaka sighed. "Fine. I will have my Tech-Marines prepare the bombs to awaken the creature and rouse it. Mnguni will lead the expedition with a team of his scouts."

Ntombela spoke up, hefting his Chainax across his shoulder, Mol'chari looking at it wearily for a minute, but said nothing. "I desire to lead the assault with a tactical squad, sir."

"Negative Ntombela. This is a dangerous mission. The jungles around Mt. Ulaka are difficult. I need troops made for the frontier, not full Astartes." Magebaka countered, waging a finger at him. "I will need your expertise in the next attack against the Tyranids."

"If this thing kills the swarm, I want to have a direct hand in awakening it and avenging my brothers." Ntombela insisted, clenching his other fist angrily.

"Take solace in leading the assault on their main hive instead." Magebaka said gruffly, locking eyes with the Captain and glaring him down. "We are not Space Wolves, we do not charge recklessly into the enemy without due consideration. Do not forget your Predecessor, Dabumanzi's, debacle at Rankari Drift."

Ntombela's jaw set, as he thought over the situation. Awakening the Fire Demon would be a perilous mission, but he wanted to do it, to claw back some honor for his lost company. But the central thrust would be his to claim, at least. "Fine. My ax will taste the blood of the Hive Tyrant itself."

"Do not forget our tactics in your rush for revenge," Magebaka chided sternly. "We have lost enough as it is. I will need Captains like you if we are to rebuild."

Ntombela was not sure he wanted to be there to rebuild. The shame of leaving his brothers under rocks still stung. Part of him desired to be buried just the same, his progeniods and such cut out, and given to another, so he could find rest. He close his eyes and breathed in deep. 'The chapter is more then just my honor and service record.'

Magebaka turned to the other two representatives of the allied chapters. "You have done more then any servant of the Emperor can be expected to do for us, but I ask you to grant help to the operation on Mt. Ulaka."

Avdol stroked his chin, clicking his tongue twice as he thought it over. "What is to be expected there?"

"The area around Ulaka is the most dangerous. Heaviest jungles there, and the most dangerous creatures," Mnguni explained. "We got all sorts of creatures. The Inkanyamba serpents are big threat, massive Carnodon prides, and Imundulu flocks that, in large numbers, can fry a grown man. But the jungles are the worst. Large 'Usiququmadevu' Ogres prowl the area, and Grootslang serpents can make a meal of a land raider."

"Perhaps we should let the local wild life handle the Tyranids." Graham remarked with some reservation.

Mnguni shook his head in dismay. "I don't need Tyranids shooting lightning like our bird flocks."

He continued. "The jungle will be too thick for anything but going on foot, and even the thinnest part will require a long and dangerous trek to enter."

The group considered everything, as Magebaka went to one of the tables, hit a few keys, and brought up a tactical. Here, was display the important locations of the planet. He pointed to each one as he spoke. "Here, in the north-east is the Tyranid reclamation pools and towers they erected while we were fighting their main army. The main horde is located here, and will rebuild from the biomass of the planet and attack us again."

He pointed to the next location. "South of here is Mt. Ulaka and the Man-eater jungles. The Tyranids appear to have set up towers as well and grown a small, secondary hive around it. I believe they sense the Fire Daemon, and either wish to stop us from awakening it, or devour it while it sleeps. Perhaps both."

Avdol nodded slowly, looking over the map closely. "I will dispatch a Tactical squad suited to this sort of environment to aid your Scouts."

Bellamy thought for a moment, drumming their fingers against the handle of the Chainsword, before he spoke. "I have an assault squad. The teeth of their chainswords hunger for blood, earned in righteous battle against the Emperor's foes."

"That should be more then enough to brave the jungles." Graham intoned, looking over the map closely.

Mnguni focused on her, his gaze as intense as the heat of a star, as he spoke. "You listen to me. No attempts at Inquisitorial trickery or deception. We get in there, move quickly, and face whatever gets in our way, and blow the top off the mountain, and run like hell."

"It wasn't my intent." She said quickly.

"Make sure it isn't." He replied icily, withdrawing a bit, before looking to Magebaka. "Allow me to assemble my squad. I'll need the best trackers and hunters in the Chapter to do it."

Magebaka nodded to him, as he looked to the other Space Marines. "As they do that, Ntombela will lead the attack on the main hive. We can't have the Tyranids catching wind of our move on Ulaka."

"I will keep a compliment of Hound Keepers here, in case the Tyranids make another run for your people." Avdol offered.

"As will I." Bellamy added.

Magebaka nodded gratefully. "I thank you both. Your brotherhood with the Ukhozi will not be forgotten. May the Emperor bless his Astartes with a victory that the entire Hive Mind will remember."

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

The jungle before Ulaka was deceptive, in a way. It looked like any other jungle. Sure, miles and miles of trees, plants and everything else that stretched for miles in all directions. It looked calm, it looked peaceful, but within was a place of death. The world was a Space Marine recruitment world for a reason. It would make no sense for it to only be a few cattle ranches, some inter-tribal disputes and some lions on the savanna.

Mnguni whistled to himself, shaking his head. "Hated getting sent in here, during my Initiate days."

"A rite of passage?" Graham asked.

"Yes. Almost got eat by a Grootslang. Had to slice its throat from inside to escape," Mnugni said, sounding aggravated. "Since I could rip out a tooth or scale, no one believed I kill the damn thing. No trophy, no acceptance."

One of the Hound Keepers chuckled softly. "We just had to go through physical training, pass exams on the Codex Astartes, and, of course, learn the art of war."

"Taking pride in the fact your training makes you pencil-pushers, not warriors?" Mnguni laughed, shaking his head with a grin. "Perhaps go to the Adminstratum, that sounds more like your place."

The Hound Keeper chuckled. "We will see how loud you boast when we have killed more of your jungles' horrors."

Mnguni's smile deepened. "This is a game my Scouts will enjoy winning."

Graham could not understand the mind of Space Marine. Few could. Even with their homeworld threatened, they were teasing and laughing about with their comrades. That level of stress was not something she could brush off easily. True, an Inquisitor could often declare the death of a world if they so wished, but the Ordo Monstrum had always been more of research and recording of potential Kaiju and the ancient Proto-Titans and aliens connected to them.

'Perhaps its better to be relaxed before battle,' She thought, rolling her armored shoulders slightly, as she stared down the jungles, full of screeches and calls. 'I should try that myself. Worry will cause mistakes.'

The Feral Worlder, now brandishing his Long Las, stepped to the edges of the jungle, looking at the roots and vines arrayed before him, before looking over at the Inquisitor and Marines. "Should I enter first? I've scouted before."

"You may join my Scouts as we go ahead," Mnguni stated, stepping forward and stopping beside him. "Stay sharp, and follow well."

"Are you sure Jralor won't be trouble?" Graham asked.

"I am merely mortal, I have not drank the blood of Star-Father of Humanity." Jralor added, looking to the Scout Sergeant for his word.

"Drank the...? Oh. Well, either way, an extra pair of eyes in the jungle is always good," Mnguni explained, as he took two steps towards the roots and vines. "Every skill will be needed."

He turned to the rest. "Be quiet as possible. The creatures will probably be on high alert. They don't know what's happening, but they probably sense it isn't good."

The Scouts entered, the rest of the Marines, Inquisitor and the Saharduin entering slowly and cautiously into the jungles. The Marines' footsteps thundering slightly through the jungle. Graham wasn't sure how they were going to go through the jungle quietly when their Powered Armor was heavier then a tank. Then again, given their appearance and power, she doubted any creature would be foolish enough to attack them. They entered, Bolters and other weapons readied, moving through the undergrowth and branches as quickly as they could.

The Scouts were ahead a few feet, Sniper Rifles and Bolters ready for anything. The strangest thing for Inquisitor Graham was the utter silence of the jungles all around. The great trees, covered in moss and vines, loomed above them, the only sound was the breeze that went through every so often, rustling the trees about. A few times, they could hear the distant flapping of wings, but otherwise, it was as quiet as the grave.

Mol'chari's long snout twisted into a grimace, as he whispered to the Inquisitor, his voice a low rumble, sounding slightly distorted. "The silence is always dangerous. This place is a death trap. Something stalks these woods."

"The Xeno is right." A Hound Keeper muttered, helmet and eyes scanning the forests for any movement, jaws clenched tight. "Either the predators of this jungle are already fearful of the invasion, or the predators themselves are hunting."

She knew what that meant, but wasn't sure how this would end. Given everything Mnguni had said of this world's predators, half of which had names she wasn't even going to try and pronounce, they sounded fierce as anything else in the galaxy. Whatever came out on-top, she didn't want to be here to see what could survive a Tyranid onslaught, or what new star-borne monstrosities the Tyranids would develop based on the genetic material found here.

Graham silently prayed to the Emperor in her hand. It was a comfort for her. She had hoped that, given what she had heard of the Ukhozi during the Pale Wasting Campaign centuries ago, that the Tyranids would be dead by now, and documenting the Fire Daemon would be easy, no risk to herself. She didn't want to say it, but her field experience was less then that of her colleagues. She had usually been the one of their Order to study and look over the archives. A few battles to chase down leads, but her role had usually been behind the scenes.

'I have faced Enslavers hunting for information on the Giants of Light, and battled chaos cultists for archives on potential sightings of Gamera,' She thought, eyes darting around the jungle for any sign of a creature. 'I can survive this. The Emperor is the source of strength and all things, so I must believe in him.'

Their slow march forward was stopped suddenly by a call from Mnguni. "Hold!"

Everyone stopped in an instant, Graham holding her Bolt Pistol up and ready, looking around the jungle, wide-eyed, waiting for any sign of movement, a smell, anything. For several minutes, nothing happened, the entire jungle as silent as the grave, as the only thing that filled Graham's ears for the moment. Then, from all around the jungles, a screech filled the air, Hormagaunts exploding from the brush and wood, chittering and shrieking as they rushed forward. Bolt guns barked, vaporizing the small Tyranids in a flash of gore and blood.

As the Marines and Inquisitor Retinue fired, several Lictors appeared from the top of the trees and brush, hissing and clicking, before leaping downwards and forwards at the group. Claws and bladed limbs swung at them, Scouts retreating backwards, a few drawing Bolt pistols to take a few shots at the creatures, who were upon them quicker then any creature should've. It was only the quicker reflexes of the Angels of Purification that saved Mnguni and his Scouts. Graham barely had time to process it, before the black-armored warriors were rushing down on the Tyranid attackers, using their Jump Packs in short bursts to close the distance, their own side arms barking at the Insectiod invaders, before Chainswords and Power blades hacked at the creatures, many of the Marines slamming shoulder first into the creatures to knock them back, and then jumping upon their stunned targets to finish them off.

Lictors were not so easy to kill, however. The creatures feinted and dodged through the gunfire and Chainsword strikes of their enemies, some disappearing into jungle, fading form sight as their skin and armor molded to adapt to the surrounding jungle, before leaping from elsewhere to try their luck again. Claws flashed and Chainswords roared, as the melee continued. Graham remained focused, trying to pick off any Lictor she could when she felt she had a clear shot, dimly aware of laughing like mad, hanging onto a Lictor's back as he repeatedly drove a serrated, wave-like blade into its neck and wherever it could reach. She sometimes wondered why she had beaten that Piscean Alien in a duel and earned his service. A Kroot tracker and scout would've been more reliable and less insane.

Something moved in the corner of her eye, Graham turning just in time for another Lictor to charge at her. She turned, firing a bolt round, and went to pull out her Power Sword, before it slammed into, grabbing her cybernetic hand, keeping the sword in the sheath, driving her into the ground, slamming both down. The Lictor raised a mantis-like blade limb upwards, preparing to strike downwards at her. Before it could strike at her, she raised the pistol and fired, hitting the hip of the creature, shattered bone and chitin shooting out from the impact point, as the Lictor shrieked in pain, rearing back, before a Emerald frame slammed into the side of the creature. It swung about, striking at the tactical marine, claws striking into the armor, as the Marine swung the butt of his Bolt Gun down onto its head, the creature hitting the ground hard, blood leaking from the side of his cranium. As the Tyranid tried to get up again, the Marine swung it down again, cracking the right side of its head open, before pointing the barrel down, before firing, its head exploding in a shower of gore.

Graham sat on the ground, breathing hard, before she came to her senses, and got to her feet, shaking herself off, and rubbing the blood that had sprayed on her face with the fingers of her armored glove. The Tactical Marine looked over, before giving a slight chuckle.

"You fight better on your feet then on the floor, Inquisitor." He said simply, before turning and firing another volley of bolt fire at another retreating Lictor.

The Lictors retreated from sight and into the jungles again, disappearing from vision. Only two remained, dead, but the amount of blood showed the Tyranid scout parties had not gotten away unscathed. The Imperials looked around, scanning the area for any other Tyranids, making sure they wouldn't reappear. Two of the Scouts and one Assault Marine were killed. Mnguni looked dismayed at the death of two of his own, but had their bodies stripped for ammo and supplies, before gesturing to the others.

"We need to keep moving. The Tyranids or something else may come, with the scent of blood and all." Mnguni said to the rest, replaying his sniper rifle and bolt pistol.

The group continued moving on, one of the Angels of Purification stepping over to the fallen brother, taking out a combat knife, and carefully cutting their palm, waiting for the blood to gather, before running the bloody palm over the face and the winged skull of the fallen marine. He kept the palm on the chest, lowered their head, and began to say a prayer in a language Graham couldn't make out. The Assault Marine finished, closing up the wound, and began to follow the rest.

The group continued on with their trek through the jungles, all of them alert and careful of whatever could come out next. Graham's arm was still shaking slightly, but she ignored it, trudging on without a word. She almost longed to be back at the research Station, pouring over archives and data, not out in the field. She shook her head slightly to herself, swallowing hard.

'No time for fear or doubt, no time for fear or doubt.' She repeated in her head. She had done missions before, she wasn't afraid of anything the galaxy could throw at her.

The walk continued on, nothing said between the various beings, everyone focused on trekking through the jungle. Even if this was the thinnest region, it would still take time. The hours ticked by, Mol'chari and Jralor pulling out their blades to hack away at the thickest parts of the vines and thicket, and allow the rest to push through. The deathly silence continued, the heat of the sun beating overhead. Graham rolled her neck slightly, the tension in the air thick, and adding to the discomfort caused by the humidity and sun bearing down.

As they marched, the ground suddenly shook, and a roar went through the jungle. Several shrieks followed. Mnguni looked alarmed, before signaling for the others to follow his Scouts. The shaking and rumbles continued, the sound of claws slicing flesh and striking meat sounded, as everyone rushed as quickly as they could to see what Mnguni and his Scouts were signaling for. Graham gripped her pistol and Power Sword tightly, Mol'chari looking exhilarated at the sound. Through the vines and brush, the Marines charged forward, smashing through all of it without any regard, the Inquisitor and her two companions following close behind. They seemed to reach the end of the jungle, entering a clearing, or at least a cliff-side at the end of the jungle, Mnguni and his scouts standing on the edge of the cliff, as the others gathered around him to gaze down.

In the clearing was a query of some kind, gray rocks gathered high and around, a creak running through, but that was not their concern. Below, several yards down, was a gigantic creature, a few feet taller then a Astartes Dreadnought, arms thick with muscle, legs shorter and almost stubby, with a prominent gut and wispy gray hairs forming what looked like a beard, its face square and loopsided, with beady yellow eyes and a mouth full of tiny, razor-sharp teeth. Its body except for part of its face and prominent gut, were dark green and covered in wart-like scales.

And currently, the creature was in battle with three Lictors, two of them in front of the titanic beast, another on its back, clawing and slashing into the thick slabs of fat and muscle over its body. Whatever hits were landing seemed to have no effect, the creature swinging its long, clawed arms at the other two, who were dodging and weaving past its attacks. They seemed in no rush to finish their prey quickly, letting their partner land his strikes into its back.

One of the Hound Keepers aimed his Plasma Gun downwards at the Lictors, glancing at Mnguni. "Should we open fire?"

He looked at him, wide-eyed and horrified at the prospect, grabbing the barrel and pushing the gun down. "We don't need the Usiququmadevu to know we're here. Keep silent, and make not a single sound."

The Hound Keeper nodded and stepped back, as Graham could only watch in surprise at the thing. It seemed to tire now, dropping to one leg and breathing hard, the Lictor on its back hissing in what seemed to be laughter, pulling its main bladed limbs out, and signaling for the others to draw close. The creature coughed and wheezed, feebly struggling as it tried to stand. As one drew closer then the other, limbs pulled back to strike, a sadistic gleam suddenly shined from its eyes, before it suddenly shot up to its feet, grabbed the Lictor on its back, and swung it downwards. The creature barely had time to struggle, before it was slammed into the closest Lictor, both mashed into the ground, and, for added measure, lifted both its mighty arms up over its head, and slammed them down, reducing the two Lictors to a pool of sickly green blood, assorted limbs and splattered brain matter.

The last went to run, sprinting off into the jungle, before the 'Madevu', as Mnguni had called it, grabbed a nearby rock, and chucked it. Graham's eyes widened as the stone flew through the air with a crack and sharp whistle, and slammed into the back of the Lictor and out through the other side, the creature falling and collapsing to the ground. Mnguni shook his head, eyes narrowed in disgust.

"The Stink-Whiskers. Their breath smells of rotted meat and death, and I don't envy those Tyranids." Mnguni grumbled, rising form his perch. "Let's go before it spots us."

"Did you have to slay one in initiation?" Graham asked, not able to look away from the large, lumbering beast. "That is why you go into these jungles, right?"

"Thank the Emperor, no." Mnguni answered. "Those are reserved for the Marines that want to be in the Honor Guard or earn their Crux Terminatus. I am no where near suicidal enough to risk it."

"How fierce is the creature?" A Hound Keeper asked in shock, as he saw the thing begin to drag the feebly struggling Lictor away.

"Space Marines will go in teams and work together to fight it, and even then it is not uncommon for full battle brothers to be lost," Mnguni explained, looking at the creature, his body stiff and terse, ready to bolt. "It's not worth the risk. Let's leave it to torment the Tyranid."

As the rest obediently turned and walked further into the jungle, Graham found herself staring in disgust as the surviving Lictor was dragged over by the leg, and grabbed by the beast in question, who started by yanking one of its mantis-limbs off, slowly, the crunch and squelch of flesh and bone being torn free and ripped off echoing through the jungle. The group had more ground to cover and there was no time to waste.

\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\

Ntombela stepped out of the Razorback along with the remaining Ukhozi, and their gathered Hound Keeper and Angels allies. The Three Chapters could see how the savanna here had been cleared away, the ground cracked and broken, the feint acrid smell of the digestion pools burning their nostrils, for those without helmets. The various capillary towers rose high into the air, like malformed claws jutting into the sky. The way the plains and forests had been flattened and terraformed. The ground was a sickly green, and as his armored boots hit the ground, he felt himself sink a bit. Anger burned a little hotter in his hearts.

It wasn't enough his brothers had to die to both Orks and Tyranids, it wasn't enough they had buried so many good battle-brothers in rock and stone. They now had to desecrate and ravage their homeworld and twist it with their foul Tyranoforming. Green spores flew through the air, as he gnashed his teeth together and gripped the Chain ax tightly. The degradation of the world where he had grown up, turned into a Astartes by the Will of the Emperor and Geneseed of Vulkan, he would not allow them to devour it and leave it a lifeless husk.

"I'll drag every Tyranid to the gates of hell myself if I have to." He muttered, hefting his ax up.

Captain Bellamy looked over to him, body language making it obvious their confusion. "Is everything alright, brother?"

"Yes." He said quickly, perhaps too quickly. "Let's crush these creatures."

Vindicators, Predators and Whirlwinds rolled into position, and opened fire into the deeper parts of the jungle, at complete random. Ntombela did not care where it landed, it just needed to damage the Tyranids and portions of their hive before his own forces charged home. Capillary towers collapsed and exploded, brood nests annihilated, Tyranids of all kinds screaming and screeching in terror and shock, as the bombardment continued for several minutes, Ntombela glaring intently as the masses of Tyranid rising from the nests and hives, and charging forward, and filling the air with their inhuman braying and calls. Zoanthropes floated among the more humanoid creatures.

Predators reloaded, before the few with Lascanons fired into the ranks of the Tyranids, aiming for the large Carnifex breeds and Pyrovores. Ntombela marched ahead of the assorted Marines, who had prepared their weapons, Devastators setting up their heavy weapons. He raised his ax above his head, and turned and shouted to the warriors of the three chapters.

"These beasts are wild, ravenous killers, nothing more!" He shouted to them, before turning back to the on-coming horde. "Show them the strength and power of the human spirit, and the fury and rage of our race's heart! They can never match that!"

The other Marines threw up their fists and weapons, shouting out their Chapter Battle cries, before charging into the fray. Heavy weapons opened up, as the Tyranids returned fire, millions of Termagants opening fire, as Venom Canons and Stranglers firing as well, lumbering Biovores stamping their knuckles down, before firing off Spore Mines from a distance. Blasts and clouds of acid exploded within the ranks of the Astartes, as Ntombela charged forward, Hormagaunts charging at the Marines, and were met with the brutal, tender mercies of the Chainswords and other Close Combat Weapons of the Marines, Ntombela stamping down on the first, firing several Bolt Pistol rounds into a score of more of the disposable Tyranids, before a Warrior charged, only to have the Ax and its teeth slammed into its neck. Blood spurted out, as Ntombela wretched it out, and as it staggered, swung it again, teeth roaring, before it was torn out, then slammed in a third, and ripped through the head completely.

From above, Bellamy and the various Assault Marines flew through the air, the Angels of Purification firing their guns as they arced downwards, hitting a few of the beasts from above, before landing in the midst of the enemy and getting to work. The Hound Keepers and Flame Ukhozi hacked into their foes, yelling battle cries and taunts to the enemy, while the Angels remained utterly silent and unspeaking as they fought.

Fakir Avdol strode forward, extending his left hand outwards, as psychic fire burst to life and washed over the oncoming horde of Tyranids. So intense was the heat, they almost immediately began to break down and splinter apart, falling apart like wooden logs in the fire pits. Ukhozi warriors fired with their Flamers and Heavy Meltas. It was a brutal fire fight, Marines falling to the sharp talons and bone swords of the Tyranids, more coming to the fight, even as the three Chapters fired everything they could. The Ukhozi were aggressive, those with melee weapons hacking and cutting into the largest and strongest of the creatures with reckless abandon. Tyranids jumped on their foes, claws and blades trying to drown them in bodies, the Marines stabbing and slashing through them.

Dreadnoughts charged home, the dozen or so Honored Elders of the Chapters striking home, Auto-Canons, Missile Launchers and Melta Canons firing off at targets, those with Power Fists and Claws closing in on random Warriors and crushing them, while others wrestled and fought against the Carnifexes, grabbing limbs, necks and heads, trying to pull them off balance and fire their weapons. Beams of Laser and Melta fried and burned through meat, as Cetshwakko continued smashing through rank after rank of Tyranid with his Crozarius.

He was yelling at the top of his lungs, sometimes laughing like mad, sometimes shouting to the other Marines. "Keep pushing! Until the Inquisitor completes the plan, we must fight, make every Marine feel like an entire Legion from the Crusades onto themselves!"

A Hound Keeper Tactical Marine, and an Ukhozi Marine briefly took cover behind a ruined Tyranid structure of some kind, the Hound Keeper looking over to release a burst of Bolter fire, before taking cover again, and clicking off the magazine, putting it away, and pulling out another, as the Ukhozi swung his Melta Gun upwards, and fired over the ruined tower, before ducking again as Termagant rounds splattered against their makeshift cover.

"Has that Chaplain Cetshwakko always been...so wild?" The Hound Keeper asked over the sounds of battle.

"He is zealous. That counts for something." The Flame Ukhozi responded, before shaking his head. "I still hate the helmet he has."

"Very rustic. Reminds me of the Wolf Priests those Space Wolves wear." The Hound Keeper responded.

"Yes, that's the problem. Took a Feline beast's skull, and converted it to a helmet," The Ukhozi replied, shaking his head in dismay. "Far too barbaric for my tastes. Why the Chapter-Master allowed him to do that, I will never know."

A roar went through the corrupted nest, both Tactical Marines looking up from the cover, to see a gargantuan, four-limbed Tyranid stomping towards them. It moved on its knuckles, claws briefly scrapping the ground, while its head was merely a writhing mass of tentacles, each ending in clawed grippers. Both looked disgusted for a moment, before both ducked again, the Hound Keeper turning to his peer.

"So, who draws the short straw and distracts it while the other gets the kill?"

The Ukhozi indicated his Melta gun, the Hound Keeper nodding and giving a wry smile behind his helmet. "Guess it's me then."

He rolled out of the side and sprang up, firing his Bolt gun, the Haruspex roaring and charging at the Marine, tentacles lashing at the air in front of the beast, as the other strafed to the other side, priming his Melta Gun, before the red-white beam fired off, hitting the creature across its tentacles, before sweeping across its face and striking one of its eyes. The Haruspex turned, releasing a number of hissing trills and shrieks, before turning on the Flame Ukhozi and charging. The Hound Keeper fired another hail of Bolter rounds. As the Ukhozi fired the stream of energy, he killed the Melta, letting it cool off. The creature began to lumber at him, before a Dreadnought stomped behind the creature, and fired a barrage of missiles at the creature.

Cetshwakko looked to the skirmish, and almost would've joined in, beginning to march to take on the Haruspex, before a roar sounded. He barely had time to react, before a Carnifex charged into his side, striking with its tusks, scooping him up for a moment, and throwing him into the air. Cetshwakko spun for a moment, before landing hard on his back, the ground cratering from impact. He groaned for a moment, every inch of his body hurting from the flight.

'Ergh...not the flight that hurts,' He thought sardonically. 'It's the landing.'

He slowly got to his feet, using his Crozarius as a cane for a moment, and propping himself up, before swinging it up, and aiming with his Plasma pistol. He took a deep breath and grunted, shaking his head, as the Carnifex wasted no time, charging again at him.

"I am Cetshwakko! I am the Will of the Emperor made manifest, He who Holds the Eternal Flame of Vulkan alive in our Hearth!" He declared, firing his Plasma Pistol at the face of the creature, the Carnifex barely flinching. "You? You are nothing! Just an animal degrading my homeworld, given to us by Will of the Emperor!"

He charged, roaring a battle cry at the top of his lungs. "See my helmet, that beast also thought its primal fury could break me, and yet I stand!"

The creature closed, pulling back its blades to strike, before Cetshwakko swung his Crozarius upwards, smashing across the creature's chin and knocking it backwards a foot. The creature shook its injury off, and swung its blades downwards at the Marine, the Chaplain dodging to the left of the creature, swinging his Mace about and striking the creature's right limb, knocking it off balance for a second, before the creature swung it scythed blade back at him, Cetshwakko blocking the hit, but sliding back several feet, before raising his pistol and firing again. One of the plasma rounds struck its chest, the other its forehead, as the creature barreled at him, swinging its pincer-claws and blades about, trying to strike and catch him.

"Slow-witted beast!" He snarled as he struck again with his Crozarius. "Your foul taint will be purged from this world!"

He swung again, then another, each hit would've been the death-blow of an Ork Warboss, but the Carnifex kept coming, ignoring every blow against its head and limbs, never stopping in its strikes. The determination, the inability to accept defeat would've been inspiring to Cetshwakko, if this weren't a filthy Xenos.

"Learn to accept death graciously from your betters!" He yelled again, pulling back his Crozarius to strike, before both blades swung down, faster then the creature had shown before, and impaled the Chaplain through the chest. He felt his chest fill with blood, his limbs shaking violently, as he coughed up blood.

The Carnifex released a satisfied growl, slowly yanking the blades out, as one of the other Marines of the Chapter yelled out for him. "Honored Chaplain!"

His head listed slightly, as the creature grabbed him by the waist in one of its pincer-claws, slowly crushing him, as he yelled out in pain. The creature lowered its head to glare at him, analyzing him now. Cetshwakko gritted his teeth, spitting up blood once more, Plasma Pistol falling to the ground.

"Kill me, beast! I will enjoy tearing out your guts with my bare hands!" He yelled in defiance, despite his vision blurring.

The creature snarled, jaws opening, as Cetshwakko grabbed a Frag grenade and popped it, before throwing it into the creature's mouth. It closed its mouth, eyes widening in shock, as the grenade slipped past its teeth and into its throat. Cetshwakko grinned madly, even as it tried to crush him, as the explosion tore through its neck and vaporized nearly everything above the shoulders. The creature's massive frame fell forward and collapsed ontop the Chaplain, several Marines running to injured Chaplain.

He struggled, even as he coughed and sputtered in agony, two of the Ukhozi Marines pulling him out. The Chaplain struggled to his feet, staggering, as the two helped him up, Cetshwakko balancing on his Crozarius.

"Throne, that hurts." He slurred, trying to maintain his confidence and strength before his brothers.

"Cetshwakko, please, let the Apothecaries tend to you!" One of the Ukhozi begged.

"While the enemies of the Imperium draw breath on our beautiful world, my work is not yet done!" He declared, before falling to one knee, wheezing and coughing again. The squad of Ukhozi helped him down, signaling for an Apothecary of any kind to help them.

Two Hound Keeper Apothecaries sprinted to him, quickly getting to work and applying their medicine and devices to the injured Chaplain. One of them spoke in shock, even as he worked. "Emperor's Bones, he's losing blood, and he's lost a heart! Stem the loss first!"

"Careful, two of his lungs have collapsed." The other said, shaking his head. "Most of the bones in his body are shattered. I've never seen anyone take this much damage..."

Ntombela, meanwhile, strode through the battlefield, Termagants showering him and Magebaka and the Fasimba with their disgusting Devourer projectiles. They pattered against his baroque armor like rain, Ntombela shaking his head.

"For such incredible evolutionary powers, what purpose do so many weaklings serve but to waste our time?" He asked, as three Terminators of the Angels unleashed their Stormbolters upon the small Tyranids.

"You know perfectly well the less skilled wretches of the galaxy need such numbers to hopefully tire us out and waste ammunition." Magebaka remarked, firing his Combi-Flamer into another swarm of Termagants. "Just like the Chaos wretches and their cultists, one bolter wasted on them is one less for the larger targets."

Several Shrikes dropped from the skies, not even giving them a chance to rest or catch their bearings, before the Honor Guard, and the Terminator Marines of the Hound Keepers and Angels of Purification sprang to action, Magebaka grinding his teeth as he swung his Power Fist at the closest one, not even giving it a chance to attack before its chest and much of its upper body was reduced to mush. As the Honor Guard and others fought their way through, Power Spears and Thunder Hammers striking and countering the Shrikes, the ground shook, as the Hive Tyrant appeared once more, the wounds inflicted now merely scar tissue across its armored body. It was surrounded by four Tyrant Guard, each bearing Bone Swords, snarling and hissing at the Space Marines gathered before them.

The Hive Tyrant glared at Magebaka, the cold mix of hunger and lingering rage. That alien beast's mind was not so simple as to forget him it seemed. He felt some satisfaction in that, that on some level, even this alien hive-mind and endless, teaming masses could, on some level, recognize him for the destruction and death he had been unleashing upon them.

'Come on, you bastard, let me see some of that rage.' He thought with a small, grim smile.

The Tyrant Guard and their Tyrant charged at the Marines, cutting down the first few Fasimba in their way, as the rest fought hard, raising their combat shields and spears, Ntombela releasing a battle cry and charged, one of the Tyrant Guard charging like an enraged Grizzly Bear and swinging both bone swords down at him. The Captain of the Third company blocked them, but felt his body shake, the sheer force making him believe the bones in arms would shatter. The creature wretched its boneswords free, pulled them back towards its right shoulder and swung them again. He ground his teeth, almost wondering if they would become dust, before swinging his ax, the chain-blade roaring as it hit the side.

He wretched the ax free, rolling to the side and avoiding the swings, springing up and firing a few rounds from his bolt pistol. The shells struck the flesh, but couldn't penetrate the armored frame or muscle. He didn't stop, charging even as his bullets did nothing to the beast. Bellamy, Dinswayo and Magebaka, meanwhile, struck and clashed with the Hive Tyrant, the massive beast moving and striking with a speed and ferocity that even the highest ranking, most experienced of the Astartes had trouble withstanding. Ntombela did not care, deflecting every blow with practiced precision. He would not lose his centuries of training and combat to his rage.

What better revenge then to pull even these Tyranid beasts from their lofty position within the hive, and show them what lowly insects they were to an Astartes. The Tyrant Guard swung around, striking and cleaving into his armor, Ntombela staggering from the hits, blocking what he could, moving slightly to let the hits only glance his armored frame. He swung his ax hard, even as one of the Bone Swords struck into his side, beginning to cleave through ceramite, and into the flesh beneath, but his rage was grater then his pain, Ntombela striking into the front of its neck, holstering his Bolt Pistol, and grabbing the Tyrant Guard by the back of the head, before tearing through the creature's neck with a brutal cut through. Blood sprayed from the neck, coating his face and chest in its foul, oily blood, before it fell to the ground.

He dropped the head of the beast, turning to the Hive Tyrant, who had just taken a Thunder Hammer strike to the side and merely smacked the Terminator aside without a second glance. It charged again at the Chapter-Master, all its rage focused on him, before a wave of hellish, near-white flames exploding out and burning across the Hive Tyrant's frame, driving it back two steps, and its Tyrant Guard drawing close to it.

"Keep attacking, Chapter-Master Magebaka!" Avdol's voice called over the flames and battle, the Fakir and two Devastator Marines, armed with Lascanon and Heavy Bolter, marched into position. "We must not let this thing recover."

Even on fire, the Hive Tyrant would not let such injuries hobble it, and it and its Tyrant Guard stamped towards them, roaring in rage at them. It seemed to sense their intent, and had no reason to let them recover or push their advantage. It would keep them on the defense, its strikes slashing and cutting close to home, Magebaka blocking and deflecting the blows with either his Power Fist, or letting the strikes glance off the corners and shoulder portions of his armor, avoiding any major damage, before firing the bolter and flamer at the same time into the creature's body. Two Angels Terminators fired off their Stormbolters, as Bellamy flew at the creature, swinging the Chainsword, only for it to be intercepted by the Hive Tyrant with one of its Bone Blades, locking the Captain in position, before releasing a roar.

From all around, the skies, the ground and nests, and from beneath them, more Tyranids, Warriors, Shrikes, Raveners and others flooded the area, a wave of claws, talons and symbiotic weapons, worm tendrils, acidic balls and everything else thrown at the Marines, who stoically withstood everything that was thrown at them, refusing to bow or give to the beasts, shooting, smashing and slashing through the hordes, trying to get to the Hive Tyrant. Magebaka struggled forward, even as more and more Hormagaunts jumped onto his body, their tiny claws and talons trying to sink through his armor. Magebaka snarled, grabbing and crushing them as they climbed upon, like rats jumping upon a meal.

The Devastators attacked, spraying the field with Heavy Bolter rounds, carefully applying fire power to wear the Tyranids were thickest, and away from their comrades. The other fired a las beam, striking one of the Tyrant Guard in the chest. Avdol threw his hand out, three tendrils of fire forming from his palm wrapping around three Tyranids and holding them aloft into the air, like tentacles from some ethereal creature. Then, with a cold glare, the fire increased, before totally incinerating the beasts in question.

Magebaka threw off the creatures and tossed them aside, smashing and burning any that kept jumping at him, determined to meet the Hive Tyrant once more in battle. More Warriors charged upon the Chapter-Master, Magebaka simply swinging the back of his Power Fist before him, and smashing aside three of the Warriors in an instant. He stood before the Tyrant, glaring hard, his face cover in his own and Tyranid blood, armor coated in alien gore, as the Hive Tyrant seemed to smile mockingly at his approach.

"Prepare yourself, Xeno!" He shouted in defiance, jamming his Bolter-Flamer in its direction. "For something far worse then even I will soon be upon you!"

The creature seemed to recognize, on some level, the truth of his words, drawing itself up, and snarling. It and its Tyrant Guard growled and brayed at him, moving in closer now for the kill. Gumende merely prayed to the Emperor that the Inquisitor and the Strike team finished their work in time. If he was going to die, it at least had to have glorious purpose behind it.

Notes

So begins the introduction of Rodan into 40k, and a few new characters.

The Marine chapter here, if you couldn't tell, draws heavily from the Zulu of South Africa. I briefly wanted to do three Chapters based on a minor faction from Warhammer Fantasy. The Hound Keepers would be Araby, but with a heavy influence of Turks, Janissaries, Mamluks and Ghulams, with the other two being based on Nippon (Cause Godzilla is Japanese) and Albion. However, I like 1d4chan, and realized there was no way to do a Japanese chapter of Marines without Blood Raven'ing a lot from Rising Sons, and likewise, with the Emperor's Spears being very Gaelic in design, I didn't want to retread old ground.

If my characters are going to be Space Marines, I want them to be original and authentic. So, I went to history, and, inspired by the Space Sharks being Maori/Polynesian in character, decided to make something I don't think anyone has done. So, I made the Flame Ukhozi. Ukhozi itself means Eagle in Zulu, and their homeworld is named for Kwa-Bulawayo, the capital of the Zulu Empire, with Natal being the name for the British colony formed in South Africa, specifically after the Anglo-Zulu war.

There's other stuff, for example, the Indaba where Magebaka was chosen as Chapter-Master being a reference to a meeting between izinDuna, or Commanders, among the Zulu. Renkari Drift is a reference to Rorke's Drift, seen in the movie "Zulu", and Dabumanzi based on Dabulamanzi kaMpande, who lead the assault. All Ukhozi leaders are named after Zulu kings, with some of the letters changed to not make it a little less obvious. The rest of the hostile life forms on Bulawayo, like Grootslang, are based on mythical creatures from South African beliefs, inspired by Fenris being full of stuff like Trolls, Wyrms, Krakens, etc.

I bounced around a few ideas for what historical group tickled my fancy at the time, including one taking from the game "For Honor", in which it would be a multi-cultural Chapter derived from several warrior groups on a planet based on Hearthmoore, including Vikings, Knights, Samurai, Chinese, Romans, etc, but decided that would be a whole lot of stuff for one chapter.

The Angels of Purification are based on a Chapter from the ole Rogue Trader days that got their character shuffled. I redesigned them and updated them to fit modern 40k a bit more. I intentionally made them a little more mysterious, in contrast to the more open and direct Hound Keepers and Ukhozi.

Inquisitor Graham is based on Vivienne Graham from the Monsterverse. In contrast to Serizawa, who I wanted to be Headstrong and a bit brash, I designed her to be more stand-offish and nervous. She can do her job, but is not quite as experienced as other Inquisitors. One of her companions being a Saharduin was based on my days in High School being spent a little too long on 1d4chan and their totally not heretical obsession with Shark Monstergirls.

Also, a minor thing, but you'll notice I reference Biovores having "knuckles" instead of six, insectoid limbs like their current models. This is because I liked the gorilla build with an Ork Underbite from the old models, and dislike the current Biovore. I liked the idea, actually, that Tyranids would absorb DNA from their victims and create new warrior breeds from it, like Xenomorphs. It's my fanfiction, and I get to chose the look and feel here!