The Polaris system, a tightly packed collection of seven planets orbiting a red giant star on the fringe of the Ultima Segmentum. To most of the upper echelons of the Imperium it was simply an isolated world with no real economic or military importance. That all changed at the turn of the 41st millennium when high concentrations of ferro-steel ore were discovered within the mountainous areas of Polaris III by an Imperial scout team investigating the fringe.

The discovery quickly found its way to the nearby forge world of Stygies VIII and an excavation team was dispatched. Ferro-steel, used primarily in the construction of the Imperium's war machines, was currently at an all time low and the Segmentum Command for the Ultima sector saw it fit to establish a defence perimeter around the new resource, lest it fall into enemy hands.

To this end, the Imperial Guard was dispatched and a defence perimeter was established. Further investigations of the system showed that Polaris II and VI had undiscovered Promethium reserves, a valued commodity not only to the Imperial Guard but the righteous burning flames of the Ecclesiarchy. With these new discoveries, and the firm insistence of the Tech Priests of Stygies VIII, it was decided to colonise the system in the name of the God Emperor.

The Imperial Guard units already planet bound were reorganised into a new regiment, the Polaris 1st, and before long Imperial colonists arrived. Polaris proved to be an interesting system in this respect. The system was a red dwarf star system, meaning that the heat received from the star was low and very dull. However, the climate of Polaris III was close to that of a tropical paradise. Studies soon showed that a naturally occurring chemical in the planets upper atmosphere acted in a similar way to a magnifying glass, intensifying the stars warmth a hundred times over.

Polaris III soon became a vibrant world, its citizens and guardsmen agreeing that the planet was almost perfect. Trade with Stygies VIII soon became the major source of income for the planet, shipping vast quantities of ferro-steel to the foundries of the forge world in exchange for equipment and supplies. Stygies VIII did more than this, supplying the Imperial Guard forces stationed on the planet with ample weaponry and armour, not that it seemed any was required.

Despite its rich mineral resources, the Polaris system was largely ignored by the greater forces in the galaxy. It was neither strategically important, nor was it port for further exploration. It was simply a mining operation, forgotten and uncared for providing its quotas were met and its donations to the God Emperor continued. As the 41st millennium began to wane however that seemed set to change.

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First Sergeant Lynx Julius Soran sat in a wooden seat, his feet propped up and resting on a small table. High above him the giant dull form of the system's sun burned, its weak rays magnified by the planet's atmosphere. Surrounding him on three sides were a series of metal railings that surrounded the balcony he was currently sat on. An archway leading into the building occupied the final side, the entrance covered by a set of large ornately designed purple curtains.

Lynx himself was a fairly robust character, his figure being both impressive and threatening at the very best of times. It was no difficult task to determine why he held his current rank. His hair was scruffy and unkempt, almost to the point of breaking regulations...a matter the Company Commissars delighted in reminding him about. From behind his scratty fringe, a pair of deep blue eyes could be seen, both usually half closed in some sort of perpetual glare. His face was rugged and aged, a deep scar present on the left of his face that ran just below his jaw.

Lynx was not from this world, his service to the God Emperor taking sending him across the galaxy and back again. It was a miracle in fact that he was not dead already, Lynx having seen some of the very worst mankind’s enemies could throw at them. Still, Lynx could not complain about his current posting on Polaris III; compared to his previous postings it was almost a retirement package. The planets climate was comparable to a tropical paradise, warm weather, little wind and almost monsoon like rain during the night that kept the plant life fresh. It did create a few problems of its own, namely for the men under his command, drills and practice marches were ten times more strenuous than any other world due to the heat. Not that it bothered Lynx, he had served in these temperature before and there were privileges to being First Sergeant.

"Back in line maggots!" came a loud and deep cry from below him. Lynx glanced up from his seat and peered over the balcony. Below him, in the main courtyard, second platoon was being drilled by one of the regiments Commissars, Sirano Augustus Tiberus...otherwise known as 'Boomer' to the men due to his voice and explosive temper. Lynx scowled at the Commissar's back and looked away, he had no real love of the Commissariat.

"That scowl will have you hanging from a gallows if they see you," said a chuckling voice from Lynx's other side. Glancing back Lynx came face to face with Julian Harrow, First Sergeant of Third Platoon. Lynx grinned broadly, motioning to a seat just across from his own.

"They'll have to prove it first, take a seat Julian...I though Third was still on recon duty," replied Lynx.

"Just got in this morning, same old same old, there's about as much going on out there as there is at a Commissar's birthday."

Lynx gave a chuckle of his own as Julian sat down, "Don't let it go to your head, there is never such a thing as peace in our lifetime. Heretics, xeno, daemons, mutants...the only thing keeping this place quiet is its isolated location and relative position to Stygies VIII. I dare say the enemies of the Emperor wouldn't like to see a squadron of Baneblades baring down on them."

Julian gave a small nod and sat back in his chair. He absently drew his standard issue laspistol from its holster and began to break it down into its component pieces. Lynx watched him from under his fringe; Julian was a munitions expert to be proud of. During a field exercise several months ago he had field stripped a Ryza pattern lascannon, corrected a faulty relay and pieced it back together again in less than a minute. If there was anything about weapons he didn't know it wasn't worth knowing. Lynx was not as knowledgeable yet he knew how to field strip his own equipment. His position as sergeant had instead been earned by years of long service, bravery and commitment to the Emperor's will.

"So when do you head back to duty?" asked Julian, his hands now cleaning the power contacts between his pistol and the power cell.

"Few hours, First Platoon is moving out to investigate some communication glitch in Sector nineteen," replied Lynx with a roll of his eyes.

"Nineteen? Don't tell me the transmitter has gone down again? What does that make it, the fourth time in the last three months?"

"Fifth time I think, I tell you they just need to replace the entire transmitter assembly. We've fixed that thing so many times its beginning to look dangerous to switch it on! But I'm just a lowly sergeant, what do I know?"

"Lowly sergeant, don't kid yourself Lynx, you've got more experience in the field than both of our platoons combined."

Lynx scoffed, swinging is feet up and off the table before standing and moving to the balcony railing, "Fat load of good it does me."

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Sector nineteen, geographically the area was fairly unremarkable, covered as it was in nothing but grasslands and the occasional forested section. It was located on the coast of the northern continent, remote from the rest of the Imperium's presence on the planet but necessary for the protection of one of the largest Ferro-steel mining operations on the planet.

A large crater had been dug into the landscape, the surface of the crater covered in metal towers, each hiding a deep shaft that ran straight down towards the core of the planet. From these shafts a maze of tunnels extended outwards in all directions, each one filled with hundreds of lobotomised servitors; mechanically implanted beings who's sole purpose was to carry out the task assigned to it.

The Imperial Guard presence at the dig site was limited to two platoons of guardsmen, a command squad and their attached auxiliaries, in this case a scout Sentinel and a specialised heavy weapon support unit. The detachment was commanded by Felix Strip, a relatively new officer to the regiment but by no means incompetent. If anything he was simply frustrated, annoyed that his first command was in such a remote uneventful section of the galaxy. So much so in fact that he was now screaming at his mechanic for the seventh time that morning.

"I thought you said you could fix this!" he cried, his voice echoing around the small room like the sound of an artillery barrage.

The mechanic, a junior member of the detachments second platoon cringed visible as Felix continued his verbal assault. He seemed visible shaken by the commander's tone and volume. "Sir, this transmitter is ancient, the best I can do is patch it up and hope it hold...but the chances of the signal holding for long are slim, the contacts are just too badly degraded."

"Degraded?! Degraded?! If you don't get this thing working again before nightfall the contacts won't be the only thing that is going to be degraded!" With that Felix turned and stormed from the room, growling and cursing beneath his breathe.

There was a moment of silence as the mechanic was left by himself to recover his nerves. He looked down, giving a long drawn out sigh before looking back up at the mass of wires, switches and dials in front of him.

"Jeez! What's eating him?"

The mechanic looked up at the new voice, another guardsman entering the room, glancing back over his shoulder as he did, "I ain't seen Strip that annoyed since he found out Central hadn't sent us enough rations and we had to go out vole hunting."

"Quiet Marco, I think I've had enough talking to last me a lifetime," replied the mechanic as he glanced back at the mass of wires.

"I imagine so Switch, I could hear his voice all the way from the end of corridor twelve. How's it going?"

Switch simply motioned to the mess in front of him, the other guardsman kneeling down and cringing, "Looks worse than one of Corporal Talbard's ration 'stews'."

"It gets better...somehow I have to get this mess working before nightfall or I'll be in for the worst night of my life. If I only had a spare set of contacts I could at least get it working long enough for us to call in a supply drop."

"Didn't the last transmission get through?"

"I can't tell, the moment we sent it the relay burnt out. If it got through they likely only got some garbled static and an idea of where it came from."

"Well hopefully they'll send someone out to investigate but that could take days."

"Days I don't have!" Switch quickly threw a spanner across the room, the echoes vibrating round the room and off down the corridor. As the sound died away he slumped back against the console behind him and slapped a hand across his face, "Why did I volunteer for this?"

"You didn't, you were conscripted," replied Marco with a chuckle, "Besides you've been through worse. Listen, I'm going to head topside and try and find you some supplies. I'm not promising much but I should be able to rustle up...did you hear that?"

Marco had stopped in mid sentence, his head tilted away and looking down the corridor. Switch followed his glance, looking out of the open door and down the dimly lit corridor beyond. They remained silent for a moment before Marco looked away and shrugged, "Must have been my imagination."

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"First platoon fall in!" cried Lynx, his voice loud and urgent. In front of him a squabble of men quickly assembled themselves into rank and file and saluted. Lynx returned the salute and then dropped it, his men following suit. He took a moment to look over his squad, knowing each man by first name. Each was dressed in the usual Guard livery, a dusty yellow and green camo patterned uniform that matched the worlds mix of sand and trees. Slung over the shoulder of each man was a standard issue lasgun, two of the squad members carry different weapons in addition to this. One man, Corporal Reginald Dalrak, stood on the left of the front rank, had a large tank slung across his back, a reinforced pipe leading from the tank to a hand held flamer that was slung across his front on a second strap. A second, Private Lance Harker, had abandoned his lasgun for a small laspistol and was wielding a larger melta gun.

"At ease men," said Lynx finally, his squad relaxing as he gave the order, "Alright here's the deal. We've been placed on a quick touch in touch off mission. We received a garbled transmission from the unit in Sector nineteen the day before yesterday and command wants us to check in with them and confirm their status."

A murmur went round his squad, most of them being groans. Lynx gave a small chuckle and waved his hand, "Quiet you lot, yes it's not what you were expecting. Giving this assignment to us is like using a melta torpedo to crack an Ork truck right?"

The murmur turned to a chuckle, his squad seemingly pleased by the comparison. "Still, it's our assignment and we're to carry it out. We'll be moving out by Valkyrie transport in ten minutes! Check your gear and load up, move!"

As Lynx gave the command his squad jumped to it, each one quickly retrieving and checking their gear. Soon enough supplies, ammo and men were loaded onto the two Valkyrie transports, their twin ram-jet engines roaring into life. Inside the first drop ship Lynx was settling himself into his seat. All around him his men were securing their harnesses and preparing for the take off. The trip to Sector nineteen was a long ride by Chimera that would have taken two days. Luckily the Imperial Navy had been delivering supplies the same day and the Company Commander had reassigned two Valkyrie transports to Lynx's platoon in order to fulfil their mission quicker.

To Lynx it was nothing special, he had only performed one drop from a Valkyrie before but he had been a passenger in one many times before. Some of his squad were looking a little white, especially the younger ones who had not even taken to the air before. Lynx smiled to himself, luckily this time they would be spared the heart pounding experience of leaping from the back of the drop ship on grav-chutes. This was not a war zone and the Valkyrie's were assigned to take them back to base after the mission, as such they would land and drop them off without having to perform a grav-chute descent. Lynx didn't know if he felt disappointed or not, part of him was itching to experience the adrenaline rush associated with such actions again.

He checked his head set, changing the transmission frequency and speaking, "Hatching to Eagle One, ready to roll."

"Confirmed, stand by," came a reply from the Valkyrie pilot, "Eagle two report status."

"Eagle two loaded and ready."

"Eagle One to all units, stand by for lift..."

Lynx switched off his headset, knowing the procedure by memory. He quickly grabbed hold of the hand grips in front of him, his platoon around him following suit. Moments later the craft gave a shudder as the vertical take off jets fired and powered up. There was a brief pause and then the entire ship lurched upwards, fell slightly and then began to move upwards and forwards. The roar of the twin ram-jets was almost deafening as they reached maximum output for take-off Lynx could see several of his squad members cringing at the noise as it reverberated around the hold.

A cake run, baby sitting duty, whatever you wanted to call it at least this mission held a little more action than the general day on Polaris. Even so Lynx couldn't help but wish for something a little more entertaining. He had no desire to die in combat...yet here he was going to die of boredom instead.

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Night was falling on the Sector nineteen mining operation as Felix Strip stormed into the command building. He was just as annoyed as he had been several hours before and the colour of his face proved it, a definite red tone settled over his skin. "Status of the communication array?!"

"Sir! Still no word, comm signal is still dead," replied one of his staff.

Felix growled quietly and crossed to the radio control. He quickly picked up the transmitter and tuned it to the correct frequency, "This is First Lieutenant Felix Strip to Private Switch!" His voice showed his annoyance, his tone picking out the two ranks and emphasising them clearly. "Private Switch report your status, why is the communication array still offline?"

Silence greeted him in response, not even a cloud of static in response, "If we've lost internal comms as well I'm going to take it out of someone's hide!" Felix quickly threw the transmitter to the side, spinning back towards the centre of the room, his eyes levelling on two guardsmen stood by the door. He raised his right arm, pointing squarely at them, "You two, get down to communications and find out what's going on!"

The two guardsmen didn't seem like they wanted to argue, both of them saluting and filing from the room in rapid fashion. At first their trip was dominated by silence, both waiting until they were out of earshot of the command room before they spoke.

"Strip's in a fury ain't he? I hope Switch has some good answers or he'll really be in for it," said one of them, looking nervously at his companion.

"Forget Strip! If we get in trouble because of him he'll have me to worry about first!" replied the second, his face filled with a very hard scowl.

The banter continued as they made their way to the communication room. The tunnels of the mine were all dimly lit but there was something about them today that made them seem more eerie than normal. There was a shadow on the air, an oppressive feeling that made both guardsmen shudder as they headed further into the complex. They drew their lasguns, neither quite knowing why, and took to single file as they continued on their journey.

"Hey, do you smell that?" asked one as they neared the comms room.

There was an odd smell on the air, like burning flesh mixed with a sweet fragrance. The scent drifted in on the air through the open door to the comm room. There was not a sound on the air apart from the gentle hum of machinery around them. Slowly they stopped outside the door, almost hesitant to enter the room. Slowly one of the guardsmen raised the end of his lasgun and nudged the door open. It swung inwards with a small creek that sounded a thousand times louder on the still air.

As the room came into view both guardsmen were nearly sick. The source of the smell became clear as they surveyed the room. Splattered across every wall in the room were thin trails of red blood, the larger splatters having started to run down the walls. In the middle of the room, slumped over one of the comm relays was the upper half of Private Switch, his eyes wide with fear and his mouth open as if he had been cut off in mid scream. His lower half was nowhere to be seen and most of his guts were spread across the main power terminal, the electric heat from the cables seemingly starting to cook them. On the other side of the room was a mangled pulp of flesh and bone, the identity of the soldier being impossible to make out had it not been for a tattered name tag that read 'Marco'.

"By the grace of the Emperor! What on Terra happened in here?!"

"Who cares?! We have to get out of here and alert Strip!"

The first guardsman didn't argue, both turning towards the door. Neither saw anything else though as something swung quickly down towards them from the ceiling above the door...

The two Valkyrie transports swooped in low over Sector nineteen, both crafts coming in at full throttle as they ran a quick reconnaissance pass over the landing zone. Below them the crater mining site looked peaceful and calm in the growing light of the morning dawn. The landing pads sat on the northern lip of the crater, the lights flashing calmly as the Valkyrie's circled the crater and came in on approach.

"Eagle One to Hatchling, we'll be dusting off upon drop and proceeding on alternative mission. Use frequency 97.3 upon completion of assignment and we will rendezvous at best speed."

"Confirmed Eagle One," replied Lynx before looking up at his squad, "Alright! Check your equipment and get ready to disembark!"

The two Valkyrie's slowed and flared up as they approached the landing pads, their vertical jets firing as gravity began to take over their descent. A moment later the landing legs on the wings touched down, the hydraulic struts compressing as they took the weight of the craft. A moment later the front strut touched the ground, the Valkyrie's engines fading to a gentle hum but remaining at standby. The rear hatch opened, Lynx already set and ready to disembark as the craft touched down on the pad. He quickly descended the ramp, his platoon following him, and jumped to the dusty ground beneath the pad. As the last soldier left the Valkyrie the engines on the two crafts roared into life again, pushing the now much lighter transport into the air. Lynx watched as they rose, turned on the spot and then pushed forwards, heading off towards the horizon.

Lynx now turned his attention to the area around him. Their arrival was not hidden in any way yet there didn't seem to be anyone here to greet them. No guardsmen, no workers, not even a mindless servitor or servo skull. Something wasn't right.

"Pickman, take three men with you and secure a perimeter...there's something amiss around here and I don't want to be surprised," said Lynx, glancing over at his corporal.

Corporal Pickman gave a quick salute, motioning to three nearby guardsmen. The men nodded, following the corporal as he charged off. Lynx returned his attention to the base around him. The entrance was just off to the side, a long suspended bridge that stretched out over the crater to a lift that ran down into the mine. Lynx surveyed the entrance for a moment, there was nothing out of the ordinary about it, with the exception of the lack of guardsmen at the entrance.

Lynx looked back at the rest of his platoon and then waved forwards before starting towards the lift bridge. His squad followed slowly, each eyeing the area around them as if looking for some unseen foe. They crossed the bridge in single file and filed into the elevator one at a time. Corporal Dalrak was the last to enter, his flamer levelled and the pilot light lit. His finger played on the trigger but his other hand was avoiding the promethium release switch just in case his finger slipped.

The elevator seemed to take an eternity to descend to the base of the crater and then further into the first level. It was here that the elevator stopped, the doors swinging open with a creek. Dalrak aimed his flamer down the darkened corridor, swinging the hissing tip back and forth before slowly lowering it a little. "Clear."

Dalrak stepped out of the lift, Lynx moving up beside him as they slowly started to move down the corridor. The generators were still running, the lighting and mining equipment around them still running, bathing the air around them in a gentle glow and a quiet hum.

"Sir," asked Dalrak, "What's going on here sir? This was supposed to be a routine comm outage."

"Nothing routine about this Corporal, the mission has changed."

"Shouldn't we contact our extraction?"

"Not until we know what's going on. Imperial Guard units don't simply disappear on a populated world. They're here somewhere, we have to find them. Keep in close formation, you take point. Assign Harker to cover the rear. Listen up everyone! I want ever corridor of this base swept for clues. Keep your eyes peeled and stay sharp."

The guardsmen around him quickly checked their equipment. Dalrak pushed on ahead again, his flamer once again levelled on the corridor in front of him. Harker quickly took up the rear position, loading his melta gun and aiming it backwards down the corridor as he followed his comrades. Lynx knew where he was going, the central control room, if anyone was still here it was likely that is where he would find them...at least he hoped so.

"Pickman to Soran, perimeter secured," came a call over his headset, "We didn't find anyone but from the look of it they just got up and left...everything looks like they were operating normally until whatever happened happened."

"Confirmed Pickman," replied Lynx in a hushed tone, "We're proceeding to the central control room to try and get some answers. Set snare traps at the perimeter and fall back to the tunnel entrance, I want a clear route out if things turn sour."

"Understood, Pickman out."

Lynx returned his right hand to his lasgun, sliding his fingers under it and cocking the mounted grenade launcher on the underside. The crack rung down the corridor loudly but it didn't matter, they had already made enough noise on their initial arrival to alert anyone to their presence.

They pressed on, reaching a junction and turning left into the central structure. They had barely gone a few steps when Dalrak quickly rose his arm in a halt motion. Everyone stopped dead, the entire team going silent as they waited to see what the hold up was about. Lynx stepped forwards to inspect what Dalrak had found. Lying on the metal gantry ahead of them was half of what appeared to be a mining servitor. Lynx frowned, swinging the nose of his lasgun up and flicking on the mounted searchlight.

The beam shone out, filling the darkened corners at the edge of the gantry with light. To their left was a large archway that led off the main tunnel. The entrance was covered by a thick metal gate, several of the bars bent outwards and torn open as if something had sliced its way out from inside the tunnel. There were no lights in this side tunnel, seemingly it was used only by servitors for access to the mining equipment. Lynx cast his beam down the length of the tunnel, paying particular attention to the buckled gate.

Without saying a word he knelt down next to the severed servitor, using the tip of his lasgun to poke and prod at the remains. The cut was clean, the type one might associate with a power sword yet there were no scorch or burn marks along the edge of the cut. Lynx frowned.

"What do you think sir?" asked Dalrak, the tip of his flamer levelled on the entrance to the tunnel as if expecting something to leap out of the darkness at them.

"Xeno..." muttered Lynx.

Behind him the click of lasgun clips being ejected, checked and clipped back sounded as his entire squad make sure they were ready. Lynx stood slowly, glancing one way and then the other, his torch light following his gaze.

"Orders sir?"

"Same as before, we make for the central control room. This is now a splash and dash operation, Collins, get on the wire to Pickman. Have him radio for extraction, tell them to come in ready for a hot LZ. Dalrak, sweep forwards and stay sharp, use your own discretion for targets. Our primary objective is to find the control room and recover any data that might help us identify what happened here. Secondary objective is to rescue anyone still here...but we aren't risking out own necks to do it, we have to get back to HQ."

Lynx glanced over his squad, they were all good men. Some he had not known for very long but others had been through hell and back with him. Dalrak was one such man, both he and Lynx having served on Tanhil twelve during the Chaos Uprising where the systems population and half of the guard infantry had been consumed by the powers of Chaos. Neither of them were alien to sick sights.

Returning his attention to the corridor, Lynx and his squad pressed on. The corridor slung to the left and downhill slightly, silent and dark mining corridors leading off the main tunnel every few hundred feet. Unlike the first all of the gates were intact and locked and there was no more evidence of fighting or problems. Finally the corridor stopped, opening out into a small chamber. At the far side sat a large set of doors, the entrance to the control room, its frame more ornately designed than any other door they had yet passed by. To each side of the room two sets of smaller doors sat; seemingly continuing on into the network of tunnels and shafts that continued down into the ground. The room was well lit, flooded with light from two large spot lights mounted above the door sets to the left and right.

Lynx and his men filed into the room, two taking up a covering position facing back into the tunnel they had entered from. Lynx himself made for the main door, stopping just in front of it and examining the locking mechanism. Dalrak stepped up next to him, the Corporal frowning at the door.

"Locked," he said bluntly, "From the inside by the look of it."

Lynx gave a small nod and moved to the side where a flashing computer panel was located. A large red light occupied most of the display, blinking on and off in a slow but steady pattern. Below it sat a control panel, the keys looking like they had been smashed by the butt of a lasgun. Lynx frowned at the panel and then slid his combat knife from the sheath on his belt.

Taking the tip he pushed it into the slight gap between the panel and the casing and yanked sideways. The panel gave a little resistance but ultimately could not stand up to the force applied to it and sprung open, half of it clattering to the floor. He surveyed the mess of wires in front of him, some of the switches were broken and the wiring was giving off a small number of static crackles. Using the tip of his knife he traced along several of the wires before tapping the tip across a broken connection box. He flicked his blade to the other side of the box and quickly cut the wires leading out of it. There was a moments pause and then a dull hum as the power to the door was lost, causing the locking bolts to release.

He stood up, nodding at Dalrak and another man standing next to him. The pair stepped forwards, each grabbing a section of the door and pulling. At first the door didn't move, the heavy metal frame refusing the budge. Dalrak seemed to be slightly put out by the doors refusal and slammed his full bulk against the door several times before taking a hold and pushing once again. This time the door groaned and slowly began to slide to the side.

Lynx let a small smile turn he corners of his mouth as the door began to move. His smile faded quickly as a tell tale noise filled the air. A sharp crack echoed around the room followed by a beam of red light that shot from the command room through the open door. The guardsmen in the room hit the floor including Dalrak, who the red beam had narrowly missed. Lynx had already brought his weapon up ready to return fire when a voice filled the air.

"Hold your fire! Hold your fire you idiot!"

The voice came from within the command room and was followed by the sound of scuffling and a thud. Lynx and his squad stood firm , weapons trained on the gap between the doors as they waited. A moment later an arm slowly appeared between the door, hand open and empty. After another moment the arm moved on, bringing the body and the head of the owner into view. He looked like an officer, his rank and uniform symbolic of this position, but he was covered from head to toe in mud, grime and blood. He was breathing heavily, his relatively young looking face strained and tense.

"By the grace of the Emperor, are you a sight for sore eyes sergeant!" he said quickly, straightening himself up slightly and looking directly at Lynx, "First Lieutenant Felix Strip, Sector nineteen Detachment."

Lynx was slow to salute, seemingly unimpressed by the lieutenant's appearance, "First Sergeant Lynx Soran, Polaris 25th First Platoon. We've been sent to investigate the communication outage."

"Forget the communications, do you have transports? We have to get out of here while we can before it comes back!" replied Felix, his head and eyes glancing back and forth between the doors to the room.

"Before what comes back sir?" asked Lynx, the older sergeant seemingly resenting the attitude of the commander.

"We don't know, it came out of nowhere and butchered half of my men before we even knew it was here. Now get on the comm and radio your extraction, we're leaving right now!"

Felix glared at Lynx, the two of them staring each other down for a moment before Lynx finally turned away and raised a hand to his headset, "Pickman report."

"Sir, perimeter is still secure, no trips activated. We've fallen back to cover the mine entrance as instructed. Drop ship ETA about 16 minutes," came a response over his headset.

"Good, keep me informed. We've found survivors and will be returning to the surface shortly." Lynx slowly turned back to his squad, ignoring Felix for the moment. "Alright, extraction is on the way. Stevenson, get in there and download any information you can get your hands on. I'm not turning up at HQ with a bunch of unanswered questions."

One of his squad nodded and quickly pushed past Felix and squeezed into the room. Lynx turned to Felix now and addressed him properly. "Sir, extraction is on the way, I suggest that you and your men prepare to leave with us."

"I don't need you to tell me that sergeant!" scoffed Felix, the commander turning back to the command room and poking his head through the half open door, "Alright, get up and get ready to move out."

Lynx held back a retort, it wouldn't help in this situation and would cause him more problems later on. As much as he might hate it, he was no longer in command and had to follow orders. At the very least he still had authority over his squad.

"Dalrak! Take point! Same route on the way out, Harper take rear guard again. Jacob, anything on the auspex?"

"Nothing sir, she's been quiet the whole time...it's like this place is dead," replied Jacob with a frown.

"We'll all be dead if we stay here much longer," cut in Felix, his squad now assembled behind him, "I suggest we move out right now, Sergeant your squad is behind me."

With that Felix ordered his squad forwards into the tunnel. Lynx was left to scowl at his back as his own orders were completely ignored, he was starting to hate this commander more and more by the moment. He nodded at Dalrak, the Corporal understanding the gesture and quickly filing into the queue of soldiers making their way up the corridor. He holstered his flamer, the unpredictable weapon more of a liability in these conditions, and drew his lasgun.

The rest of Lynx's squad quickly followed on behind, Harper taking up the rear guard again, his melta gun loaded and ready. Lynx walked in the middle of the squad next to Jacob, casting looks at his auspex scanner almost as frequently as the young soldier himself. Still nothing. What had rattled the commander so much? What was this seemingly invisible enemy?

Lynx was so lost in thought that he almost walked into the trooper ahead of him as he stopped abruptly. Looking up he could see that everyone had stopped and the commander's men were now looking around nervously. Then it hit him, an odd smell, almost sweet but completely alien to him. The hairs on the back of Lynx's neck stood up on end, he had smelt this smell only once before when...

"It's back! We have to move now! Move move move!" cried Felix, urging the guardsmen around him onwards.

Lynx looked up quickly, his hand reaching out towards the fleeing commander and men, "No! Stay together don't separate from..."

It was too late, there was a shimmer in the corridor ahead of the commander, a brief flicker of the light in the tunnel. A moment later something flew through the air striking the commander and the two men he was with. Whatever it was hit at an angle, the first guardsman loosing the top of his head with nothing more than a squelch. The commander was hit next, Felix loosing his head completely as a fountain of blood accompanied his body to the floor. The final guardsman was hit just below the shoulders, his upper half being cleaved away from the rest of his body. None of them even had time to scream, Lynx filling in that role instead.

"Hit the deck! Get down, get down! Dalrak!"

Lynx's Corporal didn't need to be told what to do. As the men ahead of him had hit the deck he had already rolled his flamer into his hands and had depressed the trigger. The guardsmen just ahead of him felt the hairs on the back of their neck singe as the lethal gout of red hot promethium spilled from the guns muzzle and filled the corridor. There was an alien shriek, a noise that made each guardsman cringe, as whatever it was was hit by the flames. They lasted but a second before the burning form of their attacker fell to the corridor floor, its body charred black and smoking.

The attack didn't stop though, Jacob's auspex giving a brief pulse but not soon enough to save Harper. The rear guard was next to go, the guardsman not even having enough time to aim his weapon before two long bladed claws shot down from the ceiling, impaling him through the upper chest and lifting him from the ground. He had time to scream in pain before the talons moved apart, cutting him into three separate pieces that fell to the floor with a thud. As his body hit the floor his melta gun struck the metal decking and the shock caused it to fire the loaded round. The next guardsman in line didn't even have time to scream as his body was vaporised by the molten ball of plasma usually used to cleave through tank armour.

Lynx rounded on the second threat, his lasgun raised at the ceiling. His spotlight flicked across the panels, picking out a faint shimmer on the ceiling. Without hesitation he fired, a round from his under slung grenade launcher flying off at the ceiling. His aim was near perfect, the krak grenade detonating to the creatures side, blowing off its limbs and causing it to fall to the floor. The explosion knocked him to the ground and filled the corridor with a thick smoke.

As he pressed himself up he glanced through the smoke but couldn't see anything. He listened, trying to catch any sound of the creature, there was none. He remained still, expecting it to strike again, but nothing happened. It must have been a good minute later that he turned to Jacob.

"Status?"

"No contacts sir, auspex is clear," replied Jacob, "What was that?"

Lynx frowned and stood up, the smoke now clearing enough for him to get a look at their attacker. It must have been at least ten feet tall, if not more, supported by a long tail that ended in a sharp point. It had stood on two legs, four other appendages scattered around the corridor, two claws arms and two long flexible bladed talons. Its face was covered in a mass of short tentacles, many of them now scattered around the floor.

Lynx spat at the creature, "Lictor!"

"Lictor?!" said Dalrak quickly, arriving at Lynx's side to examine what was left, "Tyranids? Here?! By the Emperors grace!"

"Alright listen up everyone, the situation has changed. This has to be reported, if the Tyranids are here on Polaris we have to inform headquarters or we can all kiss our asses goodbye. Dalrak take point, Jacob behind him. That auspex so much as twitches light up the whole damn corridor."

"Got it sir!" replied Dalrak, taking a firm hold of his flamer and stepping forwards once again.

"Greet, get Harper's weapon and stick close to me. Everyone else grab a gun and double time it, we're getting out of here."

-------------------------

Corporal Pickman was getting tired of waiting. It was now at least ten minutes since his last communication from Lynx and he was starting to worry, not because he didn't think Lynx could handle himself but because of his lack of information. Something must have happened, he should have called in by now. Just then his radio gave a crackle, the Corporal not being able to answer it quick enough.

"Sir!" he said quickly.

"Pickman! Tell me those transports have arrived early!" came a hurried response from Lynx.

"We're still waiting sir, what's going on?"

"Tyranids! We have confirmed contact with Tyranid organisms, Lictor species identified!"

"T-Tyranids?! Here on Polaris! Are you alright sir?"

"I'm fine but we lost five men in the ambush. Get on the line to those transports and relay the situation. We'll be arriving in a few minutes!"

Pickman couldn't change channels quick enough, the Corporal fumbling the dial for a moment before barking into the speaker, "Eagle One come in! This is Hatchling to Eagle One! Confirm ETA!"

"Hatchling this is Eagle One, ETA estimated at 5 minutes 35 seconds."

"Eagle One, we have a code red situation! Confirmed sightings of Tyranid organisms. We request immediate dust off from present location as soon as possible. Unknown extent of Tyranid threat, recommend full armament load out."

There was a moment of silence before a response came, "Tyranids! Hatchling confirmed! Readjusting arrival time, going to full burn."

Pickman looked up quickly as a bleeping caught his attention. To his side Mallick, his appointed auspex operator, was staring at his device with wide unbelieving eyes. Pickman didn't need to ask what was going on, he could see the screen for himself. Approaching from all directions were contacts, he couldn't see them yet but they would be on them in a matter of minutes.

He checked his lasgun, slapping a new charged power cell into the weapon as he levelled his gaze on the forest beyond the landing pad. “Stay frosty everyone,” he said quickly, “As soon as anything shows its face open fire.”

The men around him nodded nervously, without Lynx and his men there was only four of them to hold the line. None of them had any form of alternative weapon and Pickman was starting to wish they had at least a Heavy Bolter at their disposal. Alas it was not so and they would have to make do with what they had. With luck they could hold out long enough for Lynx to arrive...and long enough for the transports to arrive.

Just then the first hostile burst from the undergrowth. Scurrying along on four limbs, its other two were raised high, the razor sharp claws on the end flexing as it charged forwards. A moment later a second and third appeared, hunched and snarling, their tiny heads filled with glistening teeth.

“Genestealers!” cried Pickman as he swung his lasgun down at the first beast. He took only a moment to gather his aim, the sharp crack of lasgun fire sounding as his finger depressed the trigger. The first shot was off target but the second struck home nicely, slamming into the creatures head and causing it to explode in a mass of black ichor and alien flesh.

To his left and right his men also opened fire, none sparing a second thought for ammo as their lasgun's fired volley after volley. Even still more organisms began to appear from the forest around them, now assaulting from the left and right. The snarling growls reached a peek, each Genestealer adding its own voice to the chorus that drowned out the sound of lasgun fire.

Just then one of the creatures dived forwards, leaping straight at Mallick. The guardsman was so busy firing at another Genestealer to his right that he only noticed at the last minute. He spun on the spot and fired but the creature was too quick for him. A sharp swipe from one of the Stealer's claws sliced right through Mallick's armour, tearing a giant gash across his front and disembowelling him. With a scream that was suddenly cut short Mallick died and fell to the floor with a thud. Pickman was already on it, whirling round and firing several times at the creature. It cried out as its body was shredded by the close range lasgun fire.

Pickman quickly turned his attention back to the forest. There were even more now, ten, then twenty, then thirty of the creatures charging out of the undergrowth. For a moment a glimmer of terror flashed across his face as he realised that this could very well be the end. The look faded though, Pickman casting a quick glance at the fallen body of Mallick, “Emperor give us strength. Give them all you have men!”

With that he levelled his gun once again and opened fire, not caring that his power cell was reading critical. Another Tyranid beast fell to his shots, yet two more took its place as they charged towards them. This was it. Suddenly an odd sound filled the air, a sharp crackling and a snap. Without warning a massive gout of flames shot past his left into the oncoming mass of Tyranid creatures. The screams of the dying beasts filled the air as they melted on the spot.

“The Calvary is here boys!” cried the booming voice of Dalrak as he charged forwards. Behind him ran Lynx followed closely by the rest of his squad as they left the elevator. Lynx quickly raised his lasgun, cocking the mounted grenade launcher and firing. The remaining two Krak grenades flew from the launcher, over the heads of Pickman and his men and slammed into the advancing carpet of Genestealers. The twin explosion lit up the advancing ranks in a pair of bright explosions, vaporising six of the creatures in one go.

The rest of Lynx's men quickly joined the battle, lasgun cracks finally starting to drown out the shrieking cries of the advancing Genestealers. Even so more and more of the creatures advanced, the dead simply making way for more of the living. Lynx glanced across at his men as he fired, this was not looking good. Their ammo supply was limited and if they kept coming like this they wouldn't last.

“Ah dammit!” cried Dalrak as his flamer finally ran out of fuel. He raised a hand to his chest and hit the release catch for his backpack. The empty fuel tanks quickly fell to the ground next to his discarded flamer as he swung his lasgun up instead. “Just like old times eh Lynx? How can the same shit happen to the same guy twice?”

Lynx simply grunted in response, his attention trained on the advancing Tyranid ranks. Dalrak was referring to the incident on Jilan IV, a hive world that had been on the fringe of Hive Fleet Leviathan's advance. Lynx and Dalrak had both served there in separate units before being placed together. This was different though, on Jilan IV they had had back up, ranks of Leman Russ tanks, air support from the Imperial Navy and the glory of the Space Marines. Here they was nobody but them and...

“Hatchling this is Eagle One. ETA fifteen seconds! Come in Hatching!” crackled the radio.

Ducking behind a sandbag wall, Lynx reached for the radio and answered, “Eagle One this is Hatching! By the Emperor its good to hear you. We have a major situation here! We need evac now!”

“Roger that Hatching, beginning run now.” The radio went dead, the crack of lasgun fire and the shrieks of the Tyranids now being drowned out by another noise, the roar of a twin ram thrust engine. It was only a brief moment later that an Imperial Valkyrie transport soared overhead. Lynx watched as it pulled up sharply, turned in the air and came to a stop above them. Lynx's eyes widened slightly.

“Get down!” he cried, grabbing Dalrak's arm and yanking him off the top of the sandbags he was standing on. As Lynx and Dalrak hit the floor a whooshing sound filled the air as the Valkyrie above them unloaded its payload of air to ground missiles. The small warheads covered the distance in second, twenty or so slamming into the middle of the Tyranid advance with devastating force. The shrieks of the dying creatures filled the air as the explosions ripped them to pieces. Lynx risked a glance as the explosions ended, the aftermath leaving a large gap in the middle of the staging area.

Another sound caught his ear as the second Valkyrie screamed overhead, stopping just above the cleared space. Lynx didn't need to be told what was going on, standing up sharply and waving his arm. “Everyone move! GO now! Move, move, move!” With that he made a break for it, leaping over the sandbag wall and sprinting for the rear drop ramp of the waiting Valkyrie. His men followed close behind, dropping most of their equipment as they went.

Lynx reached the ship first, the rear door already open as he arrived. He spun, ushering his men forwards as he raised his lasgun and fired into the approaching mass of Genestealers. Dalrak quickly took up a position on the other side of the door as the first of the troopers made it up the ramp and into the relative safety of the Valkyrie's hold. Above them the other Valkyrie was circling, its nose mounted multi laser pounding into the ground around the ground bound aircraft and cleaving a wave of destruction into the advancing creatures.

Soon enough the last man was aboard and not a moment too soon. Dalrak quickly swung himself up the ramp, Lynx doing the same as the Valkyrie's engines began to power up. “Go go! Get us the hell out...” began Lynx before a screech filled the air.

Wish an impressive leap the closest Genestealer jumped at the aircraft as its landing struts left the ground. It's claws dug into the metal decking as another took a broad swipe at anything in range. A spray of blood hit the wall as the creature's claw found its mark on Lynx's left arm tearing a long deep gouge out of the flesh. Dalrak was quick off the mark, bringing his lasgun round and firing. The flash of energy hit the creature's head, turning it into a pulpy mess before it fell to the floor and slid out the back of the transport.

Dalrak quickly flung his lasgun to the side as he knelt down next to Lynx with a worried expression on his face. “Alex, by the Emperor are you alright?!” he said quickly as the Valkyrie began to lift into the air.

“Course I'm not alright you idiot!” growled Lynx, clutching his wound with his good hand. “Get me a damn medic now! And tell the pilot to step on it! This need reporting!”