units… tyranids!”
Toria and Lassa fired the first volley, the second volley unleashed by their men. A moment later,
the heavy bolter on the command Chimera opened up, spitting out a pummelling salvo of explosive
rounds.
The barrage of shots peppered a section of trees where the fronds had moved, exploding entire
tree trunks and shredding giant leaves. The rounds also punctured the air, slamming into something
before the bolter rounds detonated. The creature only appeared as it detonated and sent out a
blossom of chitin, yellow viscera and body parts. Other soldiers were already leaping to their feet
and arming themselves, but it was too late; two more chameleons appeared out of thin air.
Their forms were terrifying. Long, undulating tentacles covered their mouths, rows of sharp
pereopods ringed with spikes and hooks arched from their backs and around their bodies, sharp,
extended claws adorned their lower arms, while their tails ended in hooded stingers. And, they were
fast. One struck a nearby Guardsman in the thigh with its stinger, sending him into apoplectic
seizures before his heart exploded inside his chest. The other one struck repeatedly with both
pereopod spikes in lightning fast stabs that gutted another Guardsman in a matter of seconds.
Then, as quickly as they appeared, both chameleons vanished, before either man hit the ground.
The Guardsmen swung their guns, trying to find their targets, but the chameleons appeared
intelligent. They attacked in the thick of the enemy, and soldiers couldn’t open fire on them without
shooting one another. Panic spread through the Guardsmen, the swiftness of the attack blinding and
shocking. Cries of “Where are they?” and “Where did they go?” abounded.
“Skirmish circles!” Toria shouted. His men immediately fell into tight circles, back to back,
weapons pointed out.
“Get into skirmish circles,” the cry carried.
Toria watched as Guardsmen scrambled to protect one another and formed rapidly expanding
huddles. He saw Turk pull Kamala into one, while the commissar, Tyrell and Nisri entered another.
A chameleon appeared, but whether it was a third creature or one of the first two, Toria didn’t
know. It didn’t matter; the beast charged into a skirmish circle formed by Anuman’s B Platoon,
swinging its claws and stabbing with its pereopods. Five men were caught in its onslaught, their
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bodies cut to ribbons and vital organs slipping through their fingers. One man managed to fire his
lasgun into the creature’s torso at point-blank range. That single catalyst brought the other guns to
bear, and Anuman’s men opened fire.
The chameleon vanished, but it could not escape the indiscriminate rounds. Ichor and carapace
fragments appeared in mid-air, and with a knifing shriek, it reappeared. It stumbled back under the
weight of the attack and fell, its chest cavity open, its raw organs spilling out on the grass.
As one died, another made its presence known. It moved past two men, shredding the meat and
muscle of their thighs with a single swing of its claws, before vanishing. Both men hit the ground,
crippled by the attack and screaming for help. Nobody had a chance to fire. It was so fast, it left
Toria breathless. Guardsmen broke from their skirmish circles to help, but Rezail fired his bolt pistol
in the air.
“No!” he shouted. “That’s what it wants you to do.” With a coldness that always seemed to
exemplify the commissars, Rezail grabbed Tyrell’s laspistol, turned it on both wounded men and
fired, executing them with precision shots to their chests. He turned the pistol back over to Tyrell
and ignored the harsh, silent glares. Toria half expected someone to push him out of the circle.
The chameleon attacked again, this time on the other side of the groups. Toria turned in time to
see it run through six Guardsmen of a skirmish circle who were too busy staring at the commissar to
protect one another. Again, the chameleon’s movements were a dizzying blur of claw swipes and
the piston-like speed of its stabbing spikes. In an instant, it managed to trample, eviscerate and
impale all six men before it tried to vanish.
A curl of lightning arched out of nowhere, and struck the beast. Toria barely had time to register
Kamala Noore standing there, arms outstretched. Electricity curled around her body, and as quick as
it takes the mind to realise a thought, she struck it again. The blows weren’t intended to kill it, just
to daze it.
Sure enough, the chameleon reappeared, just long enough for the closest Guardsmen to fill it
with las-fire. The creature screeched its dying gasp.
The screech was answered by the angry cries of its kin.
“There’re more in the caverns already?” Lassa asked. “Merciful Emperor,” Toria said. “Up!
Above us!” he shouted.
Everyone looked up in time to see the holes appear in the cavern’s ceilings. Waterfalls of sand
cascaded down in thick pillars, but the holes also bled swarms of tyranids that dropped to the jungle
below or began crawling along the ceiling. In seconds, it was raining death.
3
Nisri stared, dumbfounded at the scene before him, struck senseless by the death of paradise. The
walls opened up, disgorging tyranids into the caverns, while more dropped into the jungle. The
tyranids attacked anything and everything that wasn’t of their species, from the fleeing, scurrying
animals to the vegetation, to the panicking Guardsmen. They were a devouring swarm of locusts,
eating everything they came upon and fuelling the engine of their bio-factorums. With this prize,
they could raise another army, invade more worlds. With this prize, it was conceivable they would
no longer be just the splinter of a splinter fleet.
Turk slapped Nisri again, trying to get him to focus. It was an absurd moment, him striking a
superior officer, a man he was much more comfortable killing in the midst of all their chaos. The
Guardsmen fought a losing battle trying to stave off the tyranids that had taken an interest in them,
but at least three squads were protecting Turk, Nisri, Rezail and Tyrell. Turk wanted to make sure
that nobody died in vain.
Throughout the jungle, men screamed. They fell to scythes, claws, teeth and acid wombs. The
command Chimera drove into the jungle to escape, the driver not realising or caring that he was
shearing off wounded soldiers that were still on his roof. The medicae Chimera was only firing its
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lasguns on tyranids or Guardsmen that approached it. After a moment, it too roared away into the
jungle under the control of its panicked crew, but there were already runners and dog-creatures on
its roof, killing the hapless injured.
Duf adar Sarish, rather than allowing his remaining camels to die in the slaughter, was shooting
them in the head with his laspistols, and firing at any tyranid that ventured too close to their bodies.
At this moment, Turk understood what it meant to have looked into the mouth of the abyss and
found madness there.
“Leave me,” Nisri whispered, his heart broken of its faith. “Let me die here.”
“Coward!” Commissar Rezail said with a snarl. He raised his bolt pistol to fire, but Turk slapped
it away and stared up into the face of the taller man.
“No!” Turk shouted. “If he stays, his men will too. We need all the help we can get in escaping
and collapsing the caverns! Shoot me later if you must, but I’m assuming command.” Turk and
Rezail locked eyes, the message understood. The commissar wouldn’t labour the point, but when
this was over, Rezail would have his reckoning.
Rezail stepped back. “You’re in charge,” he said. “What is your first order?” Everyone flinched
as a Sentinel moved past them, firing its autocannon on a pack of runners trying to advance on the
group. Three of the beasts exploded under the hammering blows, while the remaining four darted
away into the jungle’s underbrush.
“Better hurry, sir,” the Sentinel called over the micro-bead. “I can’t keep the tyranids off you for
much longer!”
Turk looked at Nisri for a moment. He expected to see fire in Colonel Dakar’s eyes, the
indignation of having a Banna steal away his command, but Nisri merely nodded his assent.
“Captain Nehari!” Turk shouted, calling over F Platoon’s commander.
Nehari, still coughing, ran up to Turk and saluted. He was pale, his eyes half-lidded and
jaundiced.
“Protect Colonel Dakar. I’m in command until he’s in a right frame of mind. Move out to
Basilica!”
Nehari nodded and took Nisri by the arm. Immediately, a squad of Turenag Guardsmen
surrounded the colonel and captain, and escorted them into the jungle under suppressing fire. The
Sentinel fired another stuttering salvo before moving past a thicket of trees. It vanished from sight,
but they could still hear it unloading its main gun.
“All units,” Turk said into his micro-bead. “Withdraw to the first rally point at Basilica.”
4
The retreat was anything but orderly. The soldiers moved through the jungle in rough groups, losing
men to their wounds or to tyranid ambushes. The Tallarn were not accustomed to jungle warfare. It
was claustrophobic for soldiers used to fighting and manoeuvring in the open desert. The jungle
carried sounds differently, the ground was rough and filled with treacherous pitfalls, and the
sightlines made it impossible to determine what lay mere metres ahead.
There was only one salvation, and that was the rich biomass of the caverns. The tyranids were
following racial imperative, and the imperative of their species demanded they consume everything
in their path. They still sent out skirmish packs to hunt the humans, but that was no longer the sole
focus of the horde. Consuming this world beneath the world was. The caverns represented a far
richer resource of organic material than the Guardsmen could ever provide. They were but table
condiments for the feast.
Turk and the others moved through the strange world gripped in yellow twilight, trying to
remain quiet while pandemonium howled around them. It soon grew difficult to distinguish between
the screams of the dying animals and those of the conquering tyranids. The only familiar sounds that
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reached them were the cries of their own men, the chatter of Imperial Guard weapons, and the
reassuring thunder of the two active Sentinels as they ran through the underbrush, autocannons
blazing to assist the different groups. After a while, the gunfire grew more and more sporadic, and,
finally, the Sentinels were heard no more.
A group consisting of Turk, Rezail, Tyrell, Sarish, Quartermaster Sabaak and a handful of
survivors from the various squads reached the limestone ramp and grand jagged awning that
separated Apostle from Basilica. A handful of soldiers manning three heavy stubbers waved them
through, while the broken bodies of Guardsmen and over fifty tyranids littered the entrance. Turk
found himself studying the faces of the fallen, and recognised two Banna tribesmen by name. They
hurried up the ramps, their advance covered by Captain Toria’s and Nehari’s men.
“Are you the last ones?” one of the Guardsmen asked.
“By the Emperor I hope not,” Turk said. “Booby trap the entrance just in case, frag charges and
wires, but don’t leave until you can’t hold this position any longer.”
The men nodded. This was no longer a matter of military feints and tactics. This was adrenalinefuelled
survival, and decorum had fallen to the wayside.
A handful of squads sat resting on a small patch of rock between the jungle of Basilica and the
cavern’s wall, among them, Colonel Dakar. Kamala Noore stood off to the side, her hood crackling
and her attention distant. Turk was glad to see her. He offered her a quick smile, but could not tell if
she was with them enough to recognise the gesture. He turned and addressed Captains Nehari and
Toria. Nisri quietly joined them, listening instead of leading, as did the commissar. Rezail did not
seem fond of either Turk or Nisri, but Turk could have cared less.
“How many reached the rally point?” Turk asked.
“Not nearly enough,” Nehari said before coughing. He was sweating, the toxins taking their toll.
“Not counting the two Chimera that barrelled through here, fifty-two men, and the mind-witch.”
Turk swallowed the insult; now was not the time to defend his beloved’s honour. “Are the
explosives set?” he asked Toria.
“Three are set. Four remain. I’m sorry, sir… with everything that happened, there wasn’t time.”
“You did well,” Nisri said. “You did nothing shameful.”
Toria offered his gratitude with a head nod, but he was discomforted by the compliment and by
the Colonel’s apparently softened temper.
“You still have the explosives?” Turk asked.
“Yes, sir,” Toria replied, “and we have the men for it, but there’s something else. The tyranids
are in the other caverns as well. They’ve dug in from every direction. We still can’t be sure if
Sergeant Ballasra’s escape route is secure.”
“And where is the sergeant?” Nisri asked.
“Making his way to the entrance of the Golden Throne,” Nehari responded. “He’s awaiting our
arrival.”
A high-pitched shriek from the jungles behind them startled the six men. Everyone heard it, and
anyone sitting down was rising to his feet. Turk could see the leaves of the jungle canopy in Apostle
swaying.
“Captain Toria, the burden of our survival falls on your shoulders,” lurk said quickly. “I need
those Sentinels armed.”
“My men would like to help,” Nehari said. “We have a demolitions specialist with us, and we
know where the Sentinels are.”
“Very well,” Turk replied. “Each of you take your best squad and get to those Sentinels. Make
sure you coordinate your targets. Captain Toria, we need a tracker to guide us to the Golden Throne
and I need a satchel of explosives.”
“Yes, sir, but may I ask why?”
“I need to collapse the last cavern to make sure nothing follows us. Now both of you, go!”
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Both captains answered in the affirmative before running off in different directions. Likewise,
Nisri, Rezail and Tyrell drifted away, making ready their escape.
“Everybody! They’re coming,” one of the Guardsmen at the entrance to Apostle shouted.
“Prepare to withdraw to the Golden Throne cavern,” Turk instructed.
The squads prepared to leave, helping one another to their feet, the line between Turenag and
Banna lost in the ordeal. Kamala walked up to Turk and removed her hood. Dried blood clotted her
