A few centuries ago, in the area on the western fringe of the galaxy, a species emerged. However, they were not of the Milky Way galaxy. They were from millions of light years away, from a completely different galaxy, one that exists no more. This species, or rather, what remained of their species, had spent the last few millennia spreading to other galaxies in the local cluster, providing the species of those galaxies with the means to fight through the coming darkness. For each galaxy that took up the offer of this species, there was one that refused, and in time it was consumed. The galaxies that accepted the help of these outsiders was able to push back the many dozen invasions, and in turn the species of those galaxies were inducted into the ranks of the outsiders, helping to spread to the other galaxies in hopes that they can halt the onslaught.

This combine, made up of species throughout the galaxies of the local cluster, has noticed that something is drawing the beasts to the Milky Way. So far the vanguard fleets have caused considerable damage throughout the galaxy, but the combine hopes that this time they can defeat and eradicate the monsters from the local cluster for good.

The General gazed down into the heart of the station. It was an enormous metropolis, as big as any city he had ever seen. What struck the General, however, was how it was all contained in a station. The General and his people were technologically advanced, but they had no stations of this size that were actually capable of movement, much less slipspace travel. Even in slipspace, though, this station never slept. A menagerie of species hustled to and fro constantly, and the General was constantly seeing new species, each one different than the others.

After a few minutes, he was joined by a friend, Colonel Higgins. “How was the meeting?” “Well,” replied Higgins, “it was boring. Although, we do have a new destination. Apparently the monsters are flocking to another galaxy like flies to garbage.” “Really?” “Yup. And the analogy is fairly accurate, too. This galaxy they’re flocking to is in a terrible state, so much so that we actually had to vote on whether or not to attempt to save it.” The General chuckled. “That bad, eh?” “More, actually, but the military power of the various species is strong enough that with our assistance, they could defeat the monsters. Well, the various species call the monsters “Tyranids”, but still. The only problem is that the majority of the species are either insane, intensely xenophobic, or both.” “I can see why there had to be a vote, then. Last time they tried to force their help upon a xenophobic species, the Legion was forced into war with the people they were trying to save.” “Exactly. But there are some factions in the galaxy that seem to be at least somewhat rational.” “Who?” “On the eastern fringes of the galaxy, there is a human sector under the control of a group who calls themselves the Knights Inductor.” “And… anyone else?” asked the General. “No, not really. The only others would be the Necrons, formerly the Necrontyr. They want complete dominance over the galaxy. When we get closer to the galaxy we will send out two emissaries.” The two got up and walked out into the hallway. The hallway was wide enough for several people (or the General and a few people) to stand side by side, and the light from the slipspace field flooded the hallway through a large window. There were several people standing and talking by it, but there was one who was alone by the window. He was of average height, shorter than the general at least, and wore bright blue armor over white robes. He had grey hair that seemed to stand up on end, making him look almost crazy, if it were not for the robes. Higgins wandered over to the man. “S’et! What’s up?” “what!?” S’et jumped slightly, and electricity crackled around his hair and face. He yawned, as if he had been woken up from a deep slumber. Higgins noticed S’et’s almost blank look, and asked “what were you thinking about? You look as if you’re still sleeping.” “That’s because I was, more or less. Well, more like deep enough in thought that I might as well have been sleeping.” “Deep in thought, eh? Thoughts of what?” S’et laughed. “My aren’t we curious? I was thinking about the Councils decision to assist this new galaxy.” “What of it?” questioned the General. “I think we need to let this galaxy work itself out. Too many factions, too many enemies. From the data J’dir’s probes gathered, it seems that this galaxy is far too immature to warrant any assistance. Everyone is fighting against everyone, starting wars they cannot hope to win. The species of this galaxy will not see out intrusion as a gift, but as another challenge to overcome.” “I don’t know about that, but I do agree about the immaturity. Hopefully, we will not be forced into another war.” “Actually, if it goes how I think it will go, we will be engaged on every front, and be forced to pull out. I am not interested in sacrificing my species for another that does not deserve salvation.” “That’s a bit harsh, S’et. We still have to see how the denizens of this galaxy will react. If they all refuse our help, we will leave. If they accept, we will help them.” “Still new to this, aren’t you, Higgins? You Namani have only been on this ship for one solar year. My brethren and I have been on this ship for far, far longer than that. The war we fought with the galaxy that refused our help and tried to sack our ships cost us far more than any other species in this fleet. I will not let that happen again simply because Azriel thinks there may be some hope left for this galaxy. There is always hope, but this galaxy is a child compared to any of us, and sometimes, children need to try and solve things on their own before they will accept help.”

A voice spoke from behind Higgins. “I know, S’et. But sometimes, you need to help them, even if they do not ask for your help. I know full well how your people suffered during the war. I do not want anything like that to happen again. The Namani have brought with them vast technical knowledge, knowledge that I hope we can put to good use.” “Oh?” said S’et sarcastically. “Since they arrived, we have been working on expanding our drone army. They have brought nanotechnology on a scale I have never seen before, and it is my plan to use those drones in the place of mortal, organic beings.” S’et crossed his arms and straightened up. “Well then, I suppose if the risk is minimal, it would be a bit better. Why was this not discussed during the meeting?” “Because I did not want a vote based on whether or not we could force a galaxy into accepting our help. Everyone knows of or remembers the war, and no one wants a repeat. Forcing the council to consider another war also forces them to consider a galaxy on its merits rather than ours. We have the strength to take a galaxy even without drones, but that is not our purpose, and we will never force a galaxy into a situation where either we or the Tyranids destroy them.” “I see. I shall inform my people of this development.” S’et uncrossed his arms and snapped, creating a blue spark, and in an instant, he was gone.

Azriel let out a sigh and turned to Higgins. “Speaking of drones, how is production coming?” “Very well. The first three quotas have been met ahead of schedule, and we have progressed to RUAV and CUAV production. Also, the translators have finished analyzing the languages of this galaxy, and the universal translators are being updated as we speak.” “Good. Pyralis will be glad.” “Speaking of which, where is he?” asked Higgins. “Last I saw of him was in the council room. He may have gone up to the bridge to check our heading and for any updates from his probes.” “Thank you, Azriel. I’ll go see if he is up there.” Azriel departed, leaving the General and Higgins in the hall. The General looked at Higgins. “You know, I really need to spend more time with the other species. What was up with S’et and his electricity hair? And who is Pyralis?” “S’et and his people, the Vanjir, possess an overabundance of naturally occurring bio-electricity, so much so that it can manifest itself involuntarily. The Vanjir can control this through training, but a buildup of this energy must be released at some point, either constantly in small doses, like S’et does, or in training, which is more common. Pyralis is part of the same species that Azriel is, the Gigas. They are extremely long-lived, moreso than we are with medical assistance.” “I see. Well, let’s go find this Pyralis fellow.”

Higgins and the General took off down the hall, and came to the elevator. The doors slid open, and the two stepped in, and the doors silently closed behind them. One minute later the doors opened, and Higgins and the General stepped out in the bustling bridge. The Milky Way in its entirety was clearly visible on the view-port, and Pyralis and two others were huddled around a holographic model of the galaxy. Higgins and the General walked up to Pyralis, who then dismissed the men he was talking to. “Whats going on? Why did we drop out of slipspace?” Asked Higgins. “We located a planet rather close to our position that is currently under attack from a splintered portion of a vanguard fleet. From what my probes are telling me, the attack has been going on for a bit more than a week.” “So?” the General asked. “This galaxy has been under attack for years.” “True, General, but this may be the perfect time to introduce ourselves to this galaxy, perhaps to prove that we are not enemies. This splinter may not be much of a challenge to us, but nevertheless we need to act cautiously and make sure we know this planet and how to best reverse the damage this splinter has done.” Higgins and the General looked at each other. Since the fall of their galaxy about a year ago, they had not seen any real battle, as they had been relegated to the ship to make sure they and their species adapted without incident. The General in particular was very pleased that he would finally be able to get back at the Tyranids, at least somewhat, for destroying his home.

“Please, don’t be so excited” Pyralis said dryly. The general smirked and said “I’ll try. What is the plan?” “The plan is you two will touch down with two squads each, then Azriel will join after you two make the area more secure. The locals are pinned and almost surrounded. We get in, kill everything that looks like a Tyranid, clean the atmosphere, and take our leave.” The bridge window shutters slid shut. “We are jumping in 3…2…1.” The engines came to life, and the ship was enveloped in glowing energy. An hour later, they were in the system.

Cadet-Commisar Rohan surveyed the battlefield. It had been nine days since the Tyranid swarm made planetfall and already he had lost half of his company, and the entirety of the commanding officers above him, and it did not help that this planet was in the midst of a civil war when the Tyranids arrived. The world was in complete disarray, but Rohan was doing the best he could. He had been commanded to hold this position, and as far as he knew the PDF companies that headed out before him to meet the Tyranids head on we slaughtered to the last man. Rohan attempted to hold his ground, but he was not as strong as the higher-ups. He had barely started his Commissar training, and although he had gusto, he was far better at taking orders than he was at giving them. His heavy weapons teams were getting low on ammo and his men’s spirits were nearly broken. At this point, Rohan was almost sure hope was lost.

A line of Carnifexes began charging through the sea of Termagaunts and Hormagaunts, and in a moment of clarity, Rohan knew what to do. He called for a depleted Chimera transport, filled it to the brim with high explosives, and called his forces back to make a “tactical relocation” (as he liked to call it) to an old fortress on the top of a hill. Rohan thought that he should probably execute himself for thinking about retreating, but considering he was the highest ranking officer within a hundred miles, killing himself would allow the planet to be taken far too easily, and he was not going down without a fight. They piled into Chimera transports and took off as fast as they could. After a few minutes, the Chimera exploded in a brilliant display of yellow and white flame, and he heard the death screams of hundreds of Gaunts. Rohan was not satisfied, though. The death of a hundred, even a thousand Gaunts meant nothing to the Hive Mind. The Commissar and his men reached the fortress quickly, and the explosion, while not entirely effective, slowed the swarm down enough to allow the guardsmen a short respite. The fortress had been nearly destroyed in the civil war, but thankfully the only damage it had suffered was a caved in roof on the central building and a blown out back wall that was right against a forest. Although, the size of the fortress put the Commissar on edge; he knew he would be surrounded eventually, and he didn’t have the numbers to hold that off for any more than a day. Rohan devoted a portion of his men to the back entrance to set up mines and barriers. Even though he had his heavy weapons teams, he only had a scant few vehicles left. He instantly began barking orders; he had all of his Heavy Weapons set up on the roof of the center building, vehicles were parked right up against any window or hole large enough to fire out of, and every guardsman was to be behind something, preferably not another guardsman. The instant he finished yelling his commands, the Heavy Weapons teams opened fire. Hormagaunts charged towards the fortress and were mowed down within seconds; but for every one that fell, two took its place. When they got close enough, the few hellhounds let loose their flame cannons, roasting everything caught in its sweeping blaze alive. Nothing seemed to be getting past these new defenses, and for a second, Rohan was optimistic. Perhaps the Tyranids had underestimated the defenses of this planet? Just then, a blood-curdling scream tore through the air, chilling Rohan to the bones and draining him of any optimism he had. He clambered atop a broken statue, and saw his worst nightmare bolting towards the fortress: the Swarmlord. Rohan could not believe his eyes. “The Swarmlord?” he said as he thought aloud. “Here? Why?” He silenced himself, but continued thinking. “Perhaps there was another battle, somewhere else on the planet, that was causing the Tyranids to attempt to squash us quicker?” Whatever the reason, the Tyranids were gaining ground fast, and there was nothing more that Rohan or his men could do about it.