[AncientTortalus]

Well here it is:

[hr]

Last Stand at Bunker 113

It was a

clear night, with a full moon and untold thousands of stars glittering in the sky.

Lieutenant Davis wondered which of those systems he had visited. Too many he told

himself. For three hundred years the twenty-fourth Prandium Guard had been shipped

from warzone to warzone, from one hellhole to another. Of course Davis himself had

only been part of the regiment for the last ten years, one of the tens of thousands of

raw recruits added to bolster the regiment over the last two and a half centuries, ever

since the original regiment had been allowed to settle Prandium II.

His

reveries were interrupted by his Vox trooper, Trooper Carlos, as he came running out of

the bunker towards Davis. He was a relatively new recruit, only part of the

regiment for the last year, and he had not yet learned to hide his emotions fully, and

although he did a good job of it, the panic in his eyes was not completely hidden.


“Sir! A large force of Tyranids has been sighted by one of our long-range

patrols, they’re heading this way, estimated ETA four hours from now. “<br /

>“Call all the patrols back in, put the platoon on full alert, every man to his

post immediately. I don’t want to be caught out by Tyranid tunnelers or

flyers. Then call Colonel Karlov and request immediate reinforcement, we have to

hold this bunker.” Davis ordered.
“Yes sir!” With that,

Trooper Carlos ran back to the bunker and started yelling instructions. Davis

stayed outside for a few minutes observing the bunkers defences and deciding how best to

deploy his forces. He had approximately one hundred infantry in two platoons, plus

three Armoured Fist squads currently out on patrol, and a single Leman Russ tank. <br /

>
“Sir!” It was Carlos again “We’ve lost contact with the

patrol that spotted the Tyranids, half way through their last transmission we heard some

shots and then everything was silent, we can’t raise them on the radio”.
Make that two armoured fist squads Davis thought grimly.
“Alright, what

about the other patrols?”
“They are checking in every ten minutes, both

of them should be here in around three hours, they weren’t as far out as the other

patrol.”
“OK, I want the heavy weapons formed into teams and placed on

the roof of the bunker, in the watch tower, anyway with a good view. Front line

infantry squads equipped with grenade launchers and plasma guns, with flamer and melta

squads placed behind them. When they arrive I want the Armoured Fist squads on each

flank, and put the Leman Russ right in the middle.” Davis watched as Imperial

Guardsmen streamed out of the bunker and surrounding buildings and took up positions in

the trench lines. The Tyranids could not go around Bunker 113 as it guarded a

bottleneck between high cliffs on one side, and an almost impenetrable jungle on the

other. It was one of three ways to get to the planets primary city from the

Tyranids current position. Colonel Karlov had decided to place small garrisons at

each point so that he could then use the bulk of the regiment to counterattack where the

Tyranids throw their main assault, rather than dividing the regiment into three isolated

parts, which would be to far away to aid each other. Fate had apparently decided

that it was Davis’ responsibility to stall the Tyranids, and he would not let the

Colonel down.

The patrols returned fifteen minutes late, and

the Tyranids arrived about half an hour early. Damn they were fast little buggers.

Considering they had no means of transport other than their own legs and wings.

They had almost caught up with two APCs going flat out with an hour’s head

start! When they arrived they arrived in force. It was still about an hour

until dawn so the exact size of the swarm was hard to determine, but there were a lot of

them. Of that there could, quite simply, be no doubt. They attacked in one

all consuming mass as usual. Davis had lost count of the number of times he had

fought the Tyranids in his ten years as a soldier, in a regiment that owed a debt of hate

to the aliens so great that it could never truly be repaid. Despite his experience

at fighting Tyranids, the terror of their approach was almost as great as it was the

first time he had fought them. As the Tyranids closed the heavy weapons opened

fire. The whoosh of missile launchers and the flat crack of Lascannons spearing

their targets with intense beams of light. Using his Night Vision binoculars Davis

sought out targets for the heavy weapons crews. Anything larger than a man was a

viable target, but after ten years of fighting these aliens Davis had learned to

recognise the important ones, the beasts that kept the swarm together. They were

slower than the little critters, and made big targets, but the Hive tyrants were tougher

than a battle tank, and some had bodyguards to match. There was also a large number of

the lesser leader bugs (as they were known by many Imperial guardsmen), and although not

as tough as the Tyrants, they were certainly resilient. Davis let out a cry of

delight when he saw a missile impact on the head of a Hive tyrant, and watched as it went

down with a crash. But the cry died in his throat as the accursed creature clawed

its way to its feet again. The Heavy weapons teams targeted it again, Missiles

impacting again and again, until finally the beast went down. Then they turned

their attention to another one. Autocannons and Heavy Bolters meanwhile spat death

at a terrifying rate into the ranks of the smaller creatures. A round from the

Leman Russ’s main armament vapourised a unit of Tyranid warriors, and hurled many

smaller aliens through the air, their broken bodies of no concern to their fellow

creatures.

Davis had long ago decided that the scariest thing about the

Tyranids was their mindlessness. Their complete inability to show fear or emotion

of any kind. The Tyranids were like one huge beast, every death just a pinprick

that was of no concern to the whole. And it was not until the head was completely

gone that the body would falter. The head meanwhile was controlling the rest of the

body, like some psychic puppet master and so the Tyranids worked in complete unison,

every part had a job to do, and there were no foul-ups. No possibility of a mistake

until the head was gone. And the head consisted of the toughest critters of them

all, Hive Tyrants. That was what made them so terrifying. It was at that

point that the Genestealers broke from the cover of the apparently impenetrable jungle,

and the Lictors seemingly materialised out of thin air behind the bunker. Three of

the twelve-foot monstrosities leapt up onto the bunker, and set upon the Heavy weapons

teams there. They had killed half of them before any sort of resistance was put up.

Five men decapitated, disembowelled and generally butchered before the others reacted.

Before they could react. One loader, diving for the fallen Missile launcher

of his gunner, grabbed it and standing up he shouldered the already loaded weapon.

One of the Lictors turned towards him, and almost before he could react, it lunged for

him with terrifying speed. The trooper just had time to pull the trigger, and at

that range, the missile made a terrible mess of the Lictor, which exploded showering

every man and beast on the bunker with steaming purple ichor. The other two lictors

were obliterated in a storm of fire as the surviving soldiers leapt off the bunker.

One unfortunate trooper breaking his leg as he did so.

The Genestealers

meanwhile had torn into the Armoured fist Squad on the right flank. There were only

eight of the aliens, but they quickly despatched the ten men opposing them and were soon

climbing all over the chimera. One of the Genestealers pried open the hatch with a

cruelly sharp claw. Ignoring las shots that must have come from one of the crew&#

8217;s side arms, the alien reached inside and dragged a man out by the head, his body

still kicking spasmodically due the claws embedded in his brain. The others were

tearing at the tracks and armoured plates as the engine roared to life and the vehicle

accelerated towards the Tyranid swarm. Seven of the genestealers held on with their

claws embedded in the armour plates, but one happened to be standing in front of the

vehicle and was mercilessly crushed under the tracks. With no concern for his own

safety the driver sped straight for the heart of the Tyranid swarm. Intent on

getting the genetically engineered killing machines attached to his mechanical killing

machine as far from the main lines as possible, so at least the Infantry would have a

chance to shoot them as they came back. The chimera hit the first wave with little

more than a bump, as the small Tyranids were flattened underneath its tracks. Now

that the chimera was slowed down by the boiling sea of armour plates and wicked claws all

around it the gunners opened up with their weapons, the roar of the Heavy Bolter and the

rapidly repeated cracks of the Multilaser a cacophony of death. The Tyranids died

in droves around, and under, the tank. But they paid no heed to their casualties

and carried on with the assault. It was not until the driver saw the massive form

of a Carnifex looming ahead that he realised that they were ignoring him because they

could do nothing, while something that could the job with terrifying ease had been

despatched. Gunning the engine for all it was worth the heroic Driver aimed

straight at the living tank. The gunners valiantly tried to keep their guns aimed

at it as the transport accelerated. The distance closed fast, and with a final

whispered prayer to the emperor for protection the two tanks, one metal, one flesh,

collided. The front of the Chimera almost wrapped itself around the Carnifex and

the driver and hull gunner were instantly crushed. The Carnifex was bowled over

backwards, taking the tank with it so that the chimera did a sort of pirouette on its

front before crashing down again and detonating as the turret gunner, miraculously still

concious, discharged his sidearm into the fuel had been released from the ruptured fuel

tank.

While the assault of the Lictors and Genestealers, and the

Chimera’s subsequent suicide run had been occurring the first wave of Tyranids had

entered into range of the infantry. Immediately, wave after wave of disciplined las

fire pummelled the Tyranids, giving not a moment of respite. Time and again the

foremost Tyranids disintegrated under the punishing barrage but they were moving too

fast. When they hit, they hit with the destructive force and appearance of a tidal

wave. Sweeping over the front units, which were like pillars of rock in an

advancing ocean. The hundred or so infantry were completely surrounded by aliens,

and unless they could defeat them in a few minutes, the larger creatures would arrive to

finish them off. But the Prandium “Remnants” were renowned for their

ability to take on impossible odds and win against Tyranids. Each unit stayed in

tight formation, not allowing themselves to be split up, and in this way they could guard

each others backs and lessen the effect of the sheer number of Tyranids. Every

soldier there had also fought the Tyranids before and knew what they were doing.

The lesser aliens took a terrible beating, losing far more than there were enemies to

kill, but it didn’t last. Only slightly slower than the first wave, ten

Raveners slithered their way forward, and using their bulk and size rammed their way

through the islands of Imperial guardsmen, slowly dividing them into smaller and smaller

units, until they were down to twos and threes. After ten five minutes of this

brutal fighting, four Raveners and at least two hundred gaunts were dead, along with

approximately seventy Imperial guardsmen. The Heavy Weapons teams mean while had

been having a ranged duel over the tops of these combats with the larger bioconstructs as

they continued to advance. Felling many warriors and even a couple more Tyrants and

Carnifexes. Then a Zoanthrope unleashed a psychic attack that annihilated the

bunker in a flash of green light, taking the remaining leaving just the three or four

heavy weapons in the watchtower and on the other buildings to return fire.
<br /

>Lieutenant Davis crushed the head of another alien with a blow from his power fist,

sending the carcass of the beast flying through the air. He discharged his plasma

pistol in the body of another that leapt past him at the back of one of his men. He

had lost count of how many e had killed, countless gaunts and even two Raveners, he&#

8217;d shot one with his pistol, other one he had killed with his power fist, after it

had tried and, thanks to his refractor field, failed to decapitate him with its

monstrously large claws. A backhanded swipe with his fist sent another beast

spinning away, its brains turned to little more than slush by the deadly energy field the

Power fist generated. Suddenly he found himself facing a Warrior. Twice the

size of a man the thing towered over him. Two of its arms ended in giant sword like

claws just like those of the Raveners, the other two were more like hands, but hands that

had fingers tipped with bone harder than admantium and that were tapered to a razor sharp

point. Raising his pistol he fired, missing its head but turning one of its four

arms into a useless stump. Unleashing an unholy scream the beast charged at him,

and he threw himself to the side at the last minute. He had intended to stand up

and ram his sword into its back but Tyranids were naturally fast, and this one had spun

round before he’d even rolled over, coming back at him, it raised it’s claws

to strike, plunging them down at Davis. He rolled sideways to avoid the blow, and

then back the other way when its other blade like claw threatened to impale him.

Again and again the beast struck at him, as he desperately tried to avoid its blows.

With one of the blows its giant claw got stuck in the ground, and Davis used the

opportunity to leap to his feet, and, bringing his sword round in a wide arc cut of its

head in a fountain of purple ichor. Something heavy smacked into his back, bowling

him over. Standing up and swing round violently he dislodged the Termagant and put

his blade through its belly. Now a unit of gargoyles swept down on him and the men

around him, where his own unit was was anybody’s guess. Despite the organised

fighting formations of his men, his own squad was smaller and had been broken up more

easily, or at least he had been separated from it. He swiped at one of the infernal

Gargoyles with his sword, removing its head with almost no resistance, another went for

him and it suffered the same fate. A third stopped just above him and spat

something at him, he dived aside and the stuff landed on the ground, hissing and spitting

as it melted itself a hole. He gave it a blast from his plasma pistol in return,

vapourising half of the vile creature.

By this time the fighting was a

confused mass of man and alien. Somehow miraculously there were still a couple of

heavy weapons banging away from the top of the tower, the others having been silenced by

the ongoing ranged duel between the remaining Tyranids as yet unengaged in close combat.

Other than this however the Imperial Guard troopers were gradually being beaten

down. There were now only thirty men left, along with the Leman Russ that was still

going strong. At the onset of the battle, Colonel Karlov had been contacted and

informed of the assault, and he had immediately set out with the rest of the regiment to

reinforce their position. That was an hour ago, and now Karlov could hear the dying

battle as he approached. Davis had held long enough at least for the Regiment to

get in position, against extreme odds. Karlov would see to it that he got a medal

for this. Then he found himself hoping Davis would have a chance to receive it.



Davis however was completely unaware of how long the battle had been

raging, and he had no clue how far off Karlov was. He had other more pressing

concerns to worry about. He had, by some miracle, succeeded in gathering his last

thirty men around himself, and they had set themselves up in the rubble of the collapsed

bunker. A sea of aliens, pressing in on all sides now surrounded them. The

Leman Russ fired its last round at an approaching Hive Tyrant, only an extremely

impressive display of fire discipline had allowed the tank to conserve its ammo for so

long, firing its main gun at only the most important targets. Having fired its last

round, the tank commander had to watch in dismay, as, despite gaining a direct hit on the

living tank approaching it, the creature shrugged off the impact and covered the last few

metres to the tank with alarming speed. Moving extremely fast and gracefully for a

creature of its size and bulk, it leapt onto the rook of the Leman Russ, almost buckling

the armour on top of the vehicle. With a shriek of triumph the beast raised its

claws above its head and plunged them straight down through the closed hatch, skewering

the Tank commander from his head to the base of his spine. Removing its claws with

the body still attached, it flung it aside before swiping at the turret from the side,

knocking it off its mounting. It then lifted the turret and hurled it at the

surviving Imperial Guardsmen battling for their lives about twenty feet away, crushing

two, along with several of its own minion. Jumping off the tank the creature rammed

its claws through the rear armour and into the fuel tanks. The resulting explosion

ripped the tank apart, killing all of the lesser creatures within a ten-foot radius.

The Hive tyrant however, leaking purple ichor from a dozen wounds, and with red

hot shrapnel embedded in various parts of its body, marched towards the surviving humans

intent on finishing them off. Realising that this was the end for him and his

men, and feeling that he had failed, Lieutenant Davis raised his Plasma Pistol and fired

repeatedly at the approaching monster. Each hit seemed to make it hesitate, but it

kept coming and as it reached Karlov he stood and waited for the final blow to fall, too

tired to even try and evade. Accepting his fate. The creature raised its

claws to strike. Suddenly Davis’ vision, which had been going dark as

conciousness slipped away from him, suddenly lit up and he felt himself flying, flying

through the air, lifted off the ground by some external force. So this is what its

like to die he thought.

When he came to he was lying on his back staring

up at a blue sky. He was aware of a terrible stench, and of many people moving

around. He experimented with each of his limbs in turn, and found that he couldn&#

8217;t move his right arm, or his right leg, at least not without extreme pain.

Seeing him stirring, Colonel Karlov came over to him.
“Your awake

I see, and about time too. We’ve been busy clearing up the mess you made

while you had your beauty sleep”. For a wonderful minute, Davis thought the

images that were flooding back to him with the return of conciousness were all part of

some terrible nightmare, and that he hadn’t lost the lives of so many men as he

failed to stop the brutal Tyranids.
“I…I’m terribly sorry

sir, I didn’t… I mean I don’t…” His voice was just a croak,

but the confusion in his voice was evident.
“It’s alright

Lieutenant. More than alright in fact, you held up the Tyranids long enough for me

to get into position and counterattack. We’ve absolutely annihilated them,

apart from some of the lesser Tyranids who fled into the jungle when the last of the

synapse creatures were destroyed. It’s all thanks to you, if you hadn’t

held on as long as you did, they would have been able to meet us on the open plains,

rather than in the bottleneck, and then their superior numbers would have crushed us.

The mess I was referring to was the hundreds of alien corpses that are lying

around the place, many of which were the doing of you and your men. As if the

tactical significance of your victory wasn’t enough, your surviving men tell me

that you personally fought with incredible bravery. You’ll get the

Honourifica Imperialis for this, I’ll make sure of it.”
“I don&#

8217;t understand… The beast, it…it was there right in front of me… I

…I thought I was dead.” Davis stammered, still too shocked to really take in

what had been said.
“If we had arrived a second later, you would have been,

as it happened, just as your men watched you start to collapse in front of that Tyrant,

one of my Leman Russes blew the thing away, and damn nearly killed you anyway. You

flew about twenty or so feet and I believe it was the landing that broke your leg.

Your last few men retrieved your body, believing you to be dead, and retreated towards my

forces. You’re a hero Lieutenant, or should that be Major?”
&#

8220;Sir?” Davis asked, finally beginning to take in what had happened, and

realising that not only was he being decorated, but he was being promoted. <br /

>“You’ll still be in command of a platoon, I’m afraid, there just

aren’t any other command slots, but you deserve the promotion.”
On

hearing this, Davis tried to rise, but unfortunately found that with the state he was in,

it was a physical impossiblity. Instead, using his one good arm he saluted his

commander while lying on his back, and then promptly drifted off to sleep.

[

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So whaddaya&#39;ll think?

[FTyross]

Nice story especially the bit about the Chimera racing ahead with Genestealers on

it&#39;s hull.

[inquisitor_haldane]

greetings

very nicely done........ a comendable effort, did

you by any chance get to read shadows in the mist?? it was on the old site, so you might

not have, if not, i&#39;ll post it again eventually

++transmission ends++

[AncientTortalus]

Unfortuntely no I didn&#39;t get to read it, as I am a fairly new member (

possibly still -the- newest). Please do post it again.

Glad you both

liked the story