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Part 1: Insertion

The Thunderhawk drifted swiftly through the void, an avian shape in matt black against the stars, no gleam of reflected light to give away its presence. The wings and hull were covered in carefully inscribed catechisms of hatred, carved over centuries by the brothers it had borne into battle, each damning the alien in all its multitudinous forms. The burnished symbol of the Imperial Inquisition stood out proudly upon the wings. The gunship ran in stealth mode, engines cycled down and only the smallest bursts of the attitude thrusters used to correct its course and align it with its target as it drifted softly through the alien fleet. Before it rose the largest vessel in the area, a gargantuan Hive Ship, the most heavily armed and defended ship in the fleet. Dense, stone-like slabs of chitin protected the hull, while row upon row of bio-weaponry stared menacing into the void, the mouth of each easily capable of swallowing the Thunderhawk whole.

Eleven warriors against an entire Tyranid Hive fleet, it was to be the kind of battle that legends are made of, the fate nothing less than that fate of an entire system, who would never know or yet meet their saviours. But these warriors were not mortal men, to seek glory, riches and honour in this deed, for mere men would not have stood a chance. These were the Emperor’s finest, the Adeptus Astartes, his Space Marines, fighting not for glory, but for the good of humanity. Moreover, these were warriors of the Deathwatch, specially selected from all the Chapters of Space Marines in the galaxy for their skill at countering the xenos threat by the Ordos Xenos of the Emperor’s Holy Inquisition. Their mission – to infiltrate the Hive Ship controlling the splinter fleet and kill the Norn Queen at its heart, neutralising its threat to the planets in its path.

On board the Thunderhawk the atmosphere was tense. The eleven black-clad warriors lined the view ports as they drew close to the hull, the silver armour of their arms glistening occasionally with reflected starlight. Suddenly the vox crackled. “I see one, sergeant. On our two o’clock, sector alpha 9F”. Sergeant Nirn turned his head, the zoom and enhance of his retinal display quickly locking onto the sector indicated. A grim smile of satisfaction curled his lip as he saw the plume of waste being evacuated into the void. “Good eyes, Arthilos. Haraldson, did you get that?”

“Aye sir, sector alpha 9F.” came the guttral acknowledgement from the Space Wolf in the cockpit.

“Take us in.”

“Roger that, sir.”

The Thunderhawk turned smoothly on its thrusters, heading towards the gaping portal in the Tyranid vessel’s side. They passed inside without incident, Halraldson setting the gunship down smoothly. Sergeant Nirn tossed an auspex to Mendel. “I have a feeling this might come in useful, between it and Morr’s psychics we might be able to detect enemy presences nearby.”

The assault ramp hissed down and the Deathwatch deployed swiftly, setting up a defensive perimeter. They were in a vast cavern of flesh, pulsating a moving with disgustingly organic peristaltic motion. A few pools of the brown waste still lay on the cavern floor, being fed upon by tiny, blind Tyranid creatures similar to rippers. The chamber walls contained many channels connecting to it, varying in size, through which the disgusting refuse must flow. There were three larger channels leading from the chamber large enough to take a marine, on going directly into the hive ship, one that appeared to head towards the prow and one that headed aft. Nirn called on Morr and Mendel “Any indication which path to take?”

“Negative,” Mendel replied “Too much background interference from all the bio-electronics to get an accurate layout for the tunnels. It might be useful for detecting some enemy movement, but as a pathfinder it will be useless.”

“Morr?”

“The presence of the Hive Mind makes any psychic determination difficult, sergeant. The centre passage seems the most clear, and would seem to lead most directly towards our objective, however I cannot say for certain which path to take.”

"Alright." The heavy set sergeant turned to survey the rest of his brothers, helmet eyepieces gleaming softly. "Brother Morr, keep your mind open for the presence of the enemy. Mendel, Ignis, Haraldson - you'll be in the front, no matter the tunnel we choose. Those flamers will be useful."

The pulsing walls made Balar nervous. It felt like corruption was all around him, but he'd been in this sort of situation before. A desperate rush through a ship to get to a reactor, bolter rounds clipping his armour. His brothers bleeding around him. Hopefully this operation would go much smoother. It was just that, this time, they had to fight a queen of the Tyranids - a thought that the pure servant of the Emperor within him relished.

"I say we avoid the centre tunnel, brothers. Tyranids are known for their psyker trickery, and a tunnel that feels clear to Brother Morr may be a trap. Not something we want to be caught by when dealing with these foul xenos." His rasping voice, he knew, couldn't be heard outside of his helmet - the internal vox conversations kept the marine's conversations quiet from any roving Tyranid bio monstrosities.

"Aye brother, it would be better to take one of the side tunnels, thus hopefully bypassing the main horde" Gundleif said and drew his blade and flicked the activation rune.
His senses where assailed by the foulness in the air, and the heavy stink of the xenos.
Under his helmet he barred his teeth and grimaced as he made his way to the front of the kill team

Brother Solem did a visual sweep of the chamber the Kill Team found itself in, his bolt pistol holstered in its maglock as he held his power maul steadily to his side, thrumming lightly with energy. He continued his scan as he noticed one of the pathetic and miniscule Tyranid lineforms below him, pressing his foot down upon it, before crushing it in a breathless instant. "Wretched filth." He muttered, as he positioned himself in the middle of the squad.

Arthilos calmly placed himself in ideal position for his Multimelta. Not wishing to harm his brothers with the powerful weapon, he continued to make small, almost subconscious movements to keep his line of fire clear while simultaneously staying a few steps from the first line. He pressed the activation rune and the weapon began humming.

'Multimelta charged. Ready to fire.'

The Thunderhawk touched down inside the belly of the beast with a dull wet thulch. Scant seconds later the assault ramp slammed down and the kill team filed out in a standard formation, weapons raised. Elysius had been seated near the rear of the hawks' infantry compartment and so was one of the last out, igniting the pilot light on his lovingly maintained flamer. Its mouth was in the shape of a brass dragon head, which made for quite potent imagery for his foes to take in - a dragon spewing fire at them - before they were immolated in short order. It was rather amusing. But the Great Devourer knew no such frail mortal weakness as fear. It was an enemy incomparable to any other. Even the Ork fought for a reason, for the joy of battle. The Tyranids simply consumed everything in their path. The reasons behind this perpetual drive to devour everything perplexed Elysius and he had meditated on the matter a great deal. Perhaps he'd ask the Norn Queen when they sent it screaming back into whatever black hole it crawled out of. Then again, Tyranids didn't make for the most interesting conversationalists, he mused.

As he quickly scanned their immediate surroundings, he regarded his brothers. He didn't know most of them, having only just transferred back into the Watch, and he suspected that by the end of this mission there'd be very few of them left to exchange pleasantries. Still, somewhere some mind-scrubbed scribe would enter a small footnote of their actions here this day and Elysius would rather have it known that he saw this vital operation through to its conclusion. After all, if he was felled before they destroyed the Norn Queen, he couldn't be sure that the mission succeeded and hence he may well die with his duty incomplete. He frowned. What an unpleasant idea.

There were several clusters of small ripper-like creatures were feeding on a dark mulch across the floor. They weren't a threat but while the rest of the squad fanned out and weighed up their options, he took the liberty of dispatching as many of the creatures as he had time for with his combat blade. Sergeant Nirn, the one Marine he did know of as he had been in the Watch even during his last tour of service several decades ago, began giving orders. While he had his doubts about the Red Scorpion's ability to lead and didn't particularly like his demeanour, he was still a comrade in arms and that was enough. Elysius moved to take the lead of the squad, peering down the nearest tunnel, one that presumably headed in the aft direction. You couldn't really apply normal terms to these Tyranid living vessels, in his experience, but he expected the Queen would probably reside near the rear.

"Brothers, shall we proceed? Time is of the essence - make sure your internal chronometers are accurate, the Tyranids aren't known for maintaining an abundance of clocks," he chimed over the vox, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder at the others before returning his gaze down the fleshy, pulsating tunnel. It was clear, for now. Perfect conditions for utilising his flamer to maximum effect. Nothing smelled of success quite like charred Tyranid carcasses piled knee deep.

"Once more it would seem a son of Sanguinius is tasked to fight the abominable Xeno in close quarters", a metallic voice said behind the lead marines. Clad in black Mk. 8 power armor with one arm in silver and the opposite shoulder pad bearing the colors and heraldry of the Blood Angels Lethos Ilin was the source of this voice. His helmet featured a bionic eye built in and his chest plating was superficially damaged by several scratches. He drew his hefty Boltgun from it's place on his hip, disengaged the safety and shouldered the weapon. His helmet's sensors painted more than a few targeting reticules on the lesser Tyranid creatures. He paid them no mind, of course, since it would be a waste to use the Emperor's bolt rounds on them when his boot would suffice.

"Though this time I am glad to see we are not wearing Terminator armor. That never ends well for the Terminator squad", he said, "I recommend we start moving as soon as we can, Sergeant. The Tyranids are already coming in retaliation for our intrusion".

''Oh brother, they new we were here before even set foot upon this damnable ship. I can feel them, I can feel It, scratching in my mind. To the mercifully blunt (How Psykers refer to non-Psykers) i can only describe it as an electrical pulse that emanates from your every step, up the walls and along the capillaries. The Norn Queen knows we are here, and she knows we are coming for her.''

Morr stepped forward into the middle of the flesh chamber, watching the swirling patterns that rippled out from each step that only he could see. This would not be easy.

''I say we take the direct route and try end this mission before the Norn Queen can awaken the rest of the hibernating Bio-Forms. What is crewing this ship now is likely a skeleton force, a fact which is changing as we speak. Push to the objective and cleanse the Xenos Filith, anything less is to invite the swarm to wake up around us!''

The ripper creatures were retreating towards the dark tunnels away from Elysius's blade, Morr grasped one psychically, flexing his mental muscles under the additional strain of the Hive Mind and slowly he brought the Ripper to be floating just at eye level for the Marines, it writhed and snapped worthlessly at the assembled Astartes.

''Purge the Mutant, Cleanse the Daemon. Now, lets crush some Fething Xenos!'' The Ripper exploded under his gaze.

Raphael sat back and scanned the room with his Stalker, the room was black looking through his thermal scope and the little creatures were the only color difference besides the marines and their Thunderhawk. Raphael brought his weapon down and looked at the three passages, he didn't put his input in on the direction they should take, but he did think that haste was necessary. Not voicing his opinions, he watched the other marines squish and stab the ripper like creatures. The marines formed a standard squad formation with the flamer in front and everyone behind him, he followed suit but kept back a ways to make the most out of his Stalker Bolter. He grunted as the sound of a wet squelch came from underneath his boot, "Stupid creatures always getting in the way," he thought to himself with disgust.

Raphael opened his vox link, "Brothers time is of the essence, let us choose a direction and go, I do not like sitting idly for the enemy to learn of our presence." He loaded a magazine into his bolter and waited for orders.

Watching the wyrd and the son of Sanguinius dispatch the snapping beast with casual ease Gundleif looked down the gloomy corridors with a growing sense of forboding growing in his mind.
" Be careful brothers we are definitly not the most lethal creatures here. We need to be underway fast." he said in the dour tone he always spoke in when he had control of the feral beast lurking within his soul.

"To the right, brothers. We move as two teams. Raphael, Gundleif, Morr, Sevastus, with me." He glanced at Morr, the psyker visibly distressed by what was around him, his loud shout showing as much. "Brother, calm yourself. Hold your anger for the true dangers we will face. A hive ship holds many"

"Vensk, lead the rest of our brothers off through the left passage. You are squad Solem"

With a violent hiss, Balar drew his sword. The blade was mottle blue and silver, the ignition of its power field sending electric crackles down its length. He turned towards the right hand tunnel, and gestured for his squad to move up, his own heavy boots squelching. So far, he had a good impression of his battle brothers. Ignis, he could tell, didn't like him. It was often the case with Nirn. You liked him, or you hated him. The rest seemed calm - Gundleif, collected and brooding, Raphael silent as many would think of the squad sniper, the blood angel violent, Arthilos concerned for his brothers, and capable - all the rest seemed calm, just as he would expect, other than the Librarian, who let the pressure of the situation get to him, an unnecessary burst of his power drawing - Nirn guessed - even more attention from the monsters whom they now faced.

"Forward, squad Nirn! Let us complete our objective, and purge this foul beast from the face of the Emperor's galaxy!"

Vensk gave a single nod after turning back with one step. "Acknowledged. "

"Brother Ignis, accompany me in front, followed by Brothers Mandel, Lethos and Umbra. Arthilos, follow behind the squad until such a time comes that you may find a suitable firing position. Execute." Speaking with a steady and confident tone, the Omega Lord simultaneously expressed his orders with effortless and brief hand gestures that then fell into a lowered and clenched fist by his side as he began to take point.

'At once.'

Arthilos pressed a few other runes on his Multimelta that caused the weapon to hum somewhat lower, the weapon still ready to fire in a few seconds' notice but consuming less power while idle. He then followed the rest of the unit.

"Falling in line, brother", Lethos says. He keeps his boltgun shouldered. As they walk the Space Marine checks everywhere a Tyranid may hide. "I wonder how many innocents it took to craft this abomination", he mutters.

Following his sergeant the space wolf kept his sword at the ready, as they ventured down the fleshy and stinking tunnel.
Memories of past battels came life within the silence of his mind, but he payed them litle heed. memories would not help in keeping him or his brothers alive.
" Allfather knows I hate these infernal beasts more than anything else, I would rather face of against an Ork Warboss and his enthier Waaaggghh than to figth these insidious predators on their homeground" he muttered as he stepped past a corner.

"Last one in the tunnel's Tyranid bait," Elysius called. Despite his casual tone, there was a certain unfortunate truth to that. The Tyranids would try to pick them off and he felt a lot more confident with a flamer in front and several of his power-armoured brothers behind than he would with no one covering his back. He advanced into the left tunnel, flanked by Vensk with his power maul. By the Emperor's good grace, nothing would survive the unforgiving bursts of flaming prometheum his favoured weapon would fill the tunnels with, but if they did - well, he was glad to have an experienced close-combatant by his side. They moved down into the tunnel proper, first himself and Vensk, followed by Mandel, Lethos and Umbra at the rear.

Quietly, Elysius began to recite the Litany of Devotion.

"Where there is uncertainty, I shall bring light
Where there is doubt, I shall sow faith
Where there is shame, I shall point atonement
Where there is rage, I shall show its course
My word in the soul shall be as my bolter in the field."

Morr wrenched his eyes away from the patterns and stared the Sargent in the face, using his Grim resolute form as an anchor as he reeled in his Witch Sight and shut it away. The colors disappeared and all that was left was the pulsating, dank innards of the Leviathan they walk upon.

''Of course Sargent. The Shadow, it is a heavy burden i must bare, but it is no excuse for rashness. Lead us to victory commander.''

Morr fell into line at the side of the Sargent were he could better monitor the Psychic Signals, as he used the large Astartes to act as buffers for the worst of the hunger the walls were feeling while he filtered through all psychic signals he could feel on the edges of his mind. They were vague, but there were many, worryingly so, but he could not pin point where it came from.

Morr's hand fell to his holtered bolt pistol, a gift from a long forgotten friend with really nice hair but the name escaped him, and he felt reassured with it within grasp. The Force Stave he was carrying collapsed neatly into it's handle and he attached it to his belt. In such close confides he didn't want to be swinging that about without due need.

Something seemed off to Raphael, splitting up always ended up badly, but he sill remained quiet not question the Sergeants orders. He kept a few yards behind the squad and scanned the tunnel with his scope, watching as the little ripper creatures skittered by, showing up as white stars amongst the deep black that was the walls and floor. "The Psyker is acting weird," Raphael thought as Morr holstered his staff edgily, with a twinge of contempt for that kind of being. He realized they were necessary, but he had killed enough heretic witches to see what horrible things they could do. Raphael watched the back as well, walking backwards and sighting through his scope back up the hallway they came, the Thunderhawk barely visible as the heat dissipated from its engines, but other than the creatures nothing moved. Something was wrong with this place, and Raphael didn't like it.

Squad Nirn advanced cautiously through the tunnel, bolters up and weapons live in case they should stumble upon any Tyranid organisms. At length they reached a point where the tunnel sloped suddenly upwards, leading to an opening just above their heads. Probing ahead with his mind Morr hissed, waving the others into cover. “I sense living organisms up there, brother. I cannot count how many.” He voxed. Nirn pondered this for a second before waving Raphael forwards. “You were a scout sergeant, brother. Advance quietly and see if you can find out what awaits us ahead.”

The Dark Angels veteran nodded his assent and slipped forwards almost silently despite his power armour, only the hum of its power-plant to give any indication he was there at all. He quickly climbed up to peer over the shaft top, grimacing in distaste as his hand-hold pulsed slightly every few seconds with the monolithic heartbeat of the hive ship. Raising his head slowly above the lip he quickly took in what he could see, assessing the situation swiftly, before dropping down and returning to report.

“We have a large chamber ahead. It appears to be some kind of suspended animation storage chamber for some of the Tyranid synapse creatures. They appear to be slumbering in fluid sacs in the walls, awaiting deployment when the Tyranids next reach a battleground. I counted at least 3 Tyranid warriors as well as a Zoanthrope. There is one hormagaunt-like creature that appears to be the chamber’s guardian. We will need to take it out quietly or risk waking the entire chamber.”

*Have a bit of discussion IC to decide how you want to proceed. Bear in mind that if the hormagaunt sees you the chamber will wake and the hive mind will be alerted to this squad’s presence. Then PM me when you have decided as a group how you wish to proceed.*

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Squad Solem’s route continued to wind on through the bowels of the ship. Like their brothers they advanced with caution, careful to avoid detection for as long as possible. “Who’d be a Tyranid?” Elysius grimaced, carefully stepping over the thin trickle of brown effluent draining down the centre of the tunnel. Mendel suddenly held up his hand in a clenched fist. “Solem, I have an anomalous reading on the auspex. It indicates a large body of non-living organic material moving towards us. I think the sensors must be on the blink.”

“That’s all we need” muttered Solem.

Ilin piped up “Does anyone else hear a rushing noise?”

They all stopped to listen, and agreed that they could, although the source could not be determined. Then a call from Ignis drew their attention. The trickle of effluent he had been watching had become a steady stream.

Fifty metres up the chamber a wall of the disgusting brown fluid rounded the corner, bearing down on the marines. Someone shouted to make for a passage leading off to the left 10 metres up stream. “We’ll never make it!” returned a voice, possibly Arthilos with the multi-melta. “Hold on!”

*The marines of this squad have two choices, to be made individually. PM me your choice.

1) You may head for the side tunnel. An initiative check will be made to see if you make it, if you do you are safe, if not it is an unmodified strength test to see if you are swept away. Pass and stay put or fail be swept away.
2) You may brace for the impact of the wave. This will give you a +1 modifier to your strength test (making you strength 5). If you pass you stay put, fail and you are swept away.*

As he listend to the report of his brother Gundleif was certain of one thing, this was going to cost blood, either Astartes or Xeno blood. But the gruff space wolf also knew that slaying these fell beasts would alert the Norn Queen to their presence abroad the ship.
" I have only faced these beasts once before, and that was with both feet planted on solid ground. So the question is brothers, what do we do? Do we slay them all and risk awaking the rest of the beasts. Or do we seek to sneak past like shadows?"

Arthilos sees the stream quickly rushing closer, and so he does the only thing that seems viable. He quickly shifts his grip on the Multimelta to one hand and draws his combat blade with the other, kneeling down as he rams it right down into the fleshy floor beneath his feet, the entire blade as well as a small part of his arm vanishing in the mucus-like substance.

Raphael didn't quite know what to do but he voiced his opinion, "Brother Sergeant, I could sneak up on the beast and slay him silently." Raphael drew his short sword but continued to watch the tyranid move about the room.

Brother Lethos quickly looks around for a means of escaping the tunnel they were in. A tunnel that was just off to the side would be his salvation. He makes a dash for it in hopes of avoiding the incoming tide.

Elysius was dumbstruck for a moment, briefly looking to the more senior battle-brothers for a decision. However, there was no time for a consensus, no contingency in the legendary Codex Astartes for dealing with a tunnel full of Tyranid faeces, or whatever in the name of the warp it was. Being at the front he was one of the closest to the tunnel and began a mad dash to reach it. His enhanced hearing told him another brother was behind him and his HUD registered it as Lethos, who was barely a millisecond behind him. The tunnel was in sight, they could make it, just a few more meters...

Vensk sighed briefly and muttered an appropriate curse from behind his helmet as he crouched down and hunched his back, ready to take the impact of the stream stubbornness.

"Be ready Brothers!"

The stream strikes Arthilos with massive force, but the weight and grasp of the Space Marine makes for a firm hold and he rides out the storm.

Lethos makes it to the side tunnel. He looks down at his Boltgun and gives a sigh of relief. Who knows what that liquid substance could have done to the delicate inner workings of his Bolter.

Elysius glanced at Lethos, his expression that of relief underneath his impassive helmet. They had both made it with scant seconds to spare.
"The Emperor smiles on us, brother," he observed. "It would have taken days to clean all of that foul slime out of the finer details of my armour's heraldry," he laughed, although he suspected the others who had chosen to stand their ground would not be so amused. It was then he realised that the local vox channel was still active, although he suspected the rest would have a rather challenging time noticing his belittling of the situation.

Lethos laughs as well. The sound his helmet produced would barely qualify as laughter but it is recognizable as laughter nonetheless. "Forget our heraldry. Imagine what the sludge would have done to our Boltguns. Not to mention we would have smelled so bad that we would have given an Ogryn pause for thought. Well... Pause, anyway. I do not know if what their minds do counts as thought".

Arthilos rises and lifts his Multimelta, sheathing his blade in a practiced motion and wiping off the worst of the grime.

'Service to the Emperor never included having to look pretty, brothers.'