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Disclamer: Warhammer 40K is the property of GamesWorkshop.

This greentext was originally inspired by the Tyranid pictures done by OrdoMalleus, posted to the /adhg/ threads on /trash/, before being collectively lumped together on Pastebin to sit for future viewing. With the advent of the SMART filter, the paste was rendered un-viewable to the larger, nostalgic masses. As such, I have taken the time to edit and post the greentext here for your enjoyment, and shall be slowly re-mastering it into an actual story. I shall begin uploading my other works here in the ever uncertain future.

I appreciate feedback as it helps me to improve my writing, and try to spot all the refrences if you so wish.

Fall of Australias >Greentext

4 Days after meteor shower...

>You get ordered on patrol in the jungle sector of some backwater world.

>High Command insists something is going on, but nothing was obvious.

>You're on patrol, alone because spreading men out covers more ground.

>You're gonna die a horrible death; you can feel it in your bones.

>You have the constant sensation of being watched by...something.

>Rapidly spinning around reveals nothing, just your rampant paranoia.

>For the past hour or two, you've really begun to notice the quiet.

>All the wildlife is silent for some reason, birds and insects have all gone quiet.

>Thirty minutes ago, you began hearing a very odd noise, a slicking sound.

>It’s always behind you, and always stops when you turn around.

>There's also an odd odor, fairly pleasant for some reason.

>With a blur of motion, you level you lasgun at some bushes right behind you.

>Nothing, except for your own breathing.

>With a grunt, you lower your weapon and marched off, muttering to yourself.

"What the frak is that noise."

____________________________________________________________________________________

>Not even four meters from the guardsman, the Lictor resumed her motions.

>At 2.4 meters tall and weighing several hundred pounds, she looms over her mark.

>Camoline chitin renders her invisible, her bio-engineered perfection rendering her gait silent.

>There is however, a growing excitement, at the idea of being caught, of being spotted.

>Flesh hooks twitch, desiring to snag the male and drag him into her embrace.

>He wouldn't have enough time to scream before her limbs gripped him tightly.

>She'd suck the information from his brain, melting all thoughts of resistance.

>Her sensory organs picked up the male's pungent odor, causing both sets of lips to drool

>No, no yet...but soon.

==========================================================================

>5 Days after meteor shower...

>Guardsmen are starting to go missing without explanation or warning.

>Nobody is going out on solo patrols, despite high command's instance that nothing out here can really hurt us.

>That much is true of the native creatures, but whatever is stalking us is not native.

>Jenkins got snatched yesterday, all they found was his lasgun lying on the ground and some blood.

>I mean, enough to be noticed on close inspection, but it wasn't a serious injury.

>Garret went mad this morning; he was a little on edge since the start, but not like this.

>The only warning was a high pitched wheeze...and then he just started shooting full auto into the brush.

>He kept saying something about a "Giant white bug," and "Not taking him."

>Whatever he saw, it never took him, Lt. Emila shot him in the head rather than talk him down, the bitch.

>None of us liked it, the highborn was always a pain in the ass, but this was just murder.

>I feel sorry for her now though, whatever was stalking Garret didn't like what she did either.

>It took her at sundown, and it wasn't quiet about it either...but nobody saw it happen.

>One moment, Lt. Bitch is on the edge of the clearing, next she's being dragged through the undergrowth, screaming.

>It threw her around a bunch, took one of her eyes out if her screaming was any indication.

>This went on for about a minute, enough for her screaming to turn into horrified sobbing.

>Then there was the discharge of a laspistol, silence for a moment, then a lot of wet tearing noises.

>Damned Commissar ordered us forward to investigate, So we did.

>Lt. was painted across a small clearing, her guts hanging from the trees like streamers, her head placed on a rock.

>Her brains were blown out with a lasbolt.

>High command says nothing out here but animals, but this was no animal.

>Animals don't kill you with your own gun, nor do they just splatter you across the ground.

>What in the name of the Emperor is watching us?

==========================================================================

>6 days after meteor shower...

>Commissar is taking a group of us to hunt down the deserters, completely ignoring none of them ever actually deserted.

>Jungle is hellish, wildlife out this way leans toward more dangerous, but definitely nowhere near as bad as Chatachan

>Place still sucks, but tis the life of a guardsman. At least you're far from the ramblings of General Powerstache

>Guy had his head on mostly straight, but talked constantly of grand campaigns and heroic charges.

>Commissar is being a bigger pain than usual, ordering about the squad to track down the poor blokes who got nabbed.

>Jenkins was the next to go, but he wasn't exactly taken. All week he had this odd little smile, like he knew something.

>Then he just walked off, claiming that "What's coming is inevitable, so why fight it?" And walked in

>He was one for three seconds before the Commissar got around and fired off a pair of bolts.

>He gave orders to retrieve the equipment, but the five men who went in found nothing.

>The Commissar never misses, even in thick smoke thanks to that augmentic eye of his.

>Something nabbed Jenkins without making a sound and dodged a pair of bolt rounds in a matter of seconds.

>By the Emperor, whatever is out here, whatever is hunting us is...

"Guardsman, cease scribbling and get moving."

>You stare up at the Commissar, before stowing your journal and rising.

>Apparently, someone had found a trail of boot-prints matching Jenkins leading through the jungle.

>Your clothing and flack armor constantly feels as though it is sliding down your body from the heat.

>You and one of your squad mates are in the middle of the formation watching the flanks.

"Whuytevavh is huntin us is close mate."

>It has gotten awfully quiet, and not the wildlife reacting to guard patrol level quiet.

>More like 'Something really dangerous is hunting the guardsmen' level quiet.

>Soon enough, the squad comes to a clearing, which should be alarming enough, but no one speaks up.

>The Commissar is radiating murder and the desire to execute you from perceived incompetence.

>There's a muffled yelp at the rear of the column, causing everyone to turn.

>It's Leroy...he's standing funny.

>No not standing, something has a hold of him from behind, something like a hand over his mouth.

>It's mimicked Leroy and everything behind him almost perfectly; you probably wouldn't have ever seen it.

>Then it changes color, turning white with pinkish/purplish plates.

"It can Camouflage!"

"Open Fire!"

>Before anything can reach it, the thing LEAPS back into the brush.

>You start firing shots into the bushes, wondering just how many of those things are out there.

>Suddenly, flash bangs land among the squad, disorienting everyone.

>screw this, you think as the blurred form of another creature nabs the Vox Operator

>You can definitely hear a pissed off Commissar screaming your name.

>You ran for several minutes, panting and firing off shot into the brush and random.

>frak.mantra

>Suddenly, you trip over a root, going sprawling to the ground, trying to get up.

*Click Clack*

>Oh, how lovely, the Commissar found you.

>Without preamble, your grabbed by your backpack and less hauled, more returned to vertical position.

>Not the Commissar.

>One of the creatures, but it's wearing the Commissar's hat, trench coat, and holding his bolt pistol.

>Its tentacled mouth seems to be drooling slightly, and following the drops down...

>To a very large set of boobs, which strain against the confines of the coat buttoned around them

>Your gaze drops again, and this time your cheeks really heat up

>A large stand of clear, viscous fluid dribbles from a very human looking set of lady-parts.

>You look back up at is blushing face as it make and odd crooning noise

>Trying to raise your lasgun, only for one of the huge upper arms to knock it clean from your grasp.

>The lower set drops the bolt pistol and pins you against a tree, its grip strong, but oddly careful

>Oh frak, this thing isn't going to kill you.

>Suddenly, it leans in, tendrils gently stroking your face, not unpleasantly

>Then it kisses you, that is the only applicable term for what it does.

>Then it starts...sucking?

*sulrp* *Suck* *Chuu*

>The tendrils lock around your head, tightly, preventing you from moving it so much as an inch.

>The sucking feels weird, and you can feel some sort of tonged slip into your mouth.

>It moans, the vibration rattling your bones ever so slightly as it continues.

>You begin struggling as hard as you can, because that weird feeling in your head is getting stronger.

>By the Emperor, it's trying to suck your brains out.

malepreycaughtstopstruggling

>The frak was that?

>It feels like the damned tendrils are IN your head now.

malecaughtmalesafemalesubmit

>Definitely in your head, it's definitely poking around in there for something

>One of the tendrils presses on a part of your mind, and you just melt with a whimper.

>You weren't sure what just happened, but it felt good.

malerelaxmalefeelspleasuresubmittothepleasure

>Again it pushes on your mind and you capitulate, this lady isn't hurting you, so why fight it?

>No, that's not right Xenos bad, bad touch.

maleslowmaleweakmalepreycaughtmalesubmit.

>Again it enforces its will, and whatever urges you have to resist fall silent, it just feels too good to struggle.

>What does it want though? Sex?

maletellthisoneallshowallmaleknowsthenbreedmuchbreeding

>It wants your memories, and swiftly, the tendrils descend upon them, slurping up every detail.

>Your desires and wants, your duties and beliefs.

>The modest childhood you have, the training you rceived in the Guard

>It goes through everything carefully, thoroughly, skipping over no detail.

>After everything is gone through it breaks the kiss and you suddenly remember how much air you need.

>A bit of gasping and panting later, you gaze up at her drunkenly.

>She croons, before pulling you deep into those warm, soft and fragrant boobs of hers, and sets to work on your pants.

____________________________________________________________________________________

>The Vox Operator sighed, sitting at his station bored as hell

>Nothing ever happens on this backwater penal colony.

>The Vox monitor starts beeping; stirring him from inactivity two answer it.

"This is Outpost Sigma, go ahead. Over."

"Outpost...Sigma...this is patrol Alpha...6....Kilo...9...requesting more men, over."

"Rodger that A6K9, you're requesting reinforcements, is there a problem, over?

"No...problems...here...outpost, just send...more...men...over."

"You alright," The Vox Operator asked, "You sound terrible?"

"Just...a little...sick...nothing to raise an alarm...about."

"Okay then," The Operator replied, "Can I have some coordinates, over?"

"Send to...previous deployment...area....will rendezvous...there...over."

"Copy that A6K9, sending some trooper that way now. Over"

"Yes...send...more....men...Over and out."

>Vox cuts off, leaving the operator a little confused

>Eh, nothing to really worry about, person sounded really strange, but they probably caught something.

_________________________________________________________________________________

>The Lictor set the Vox unit down, having used the operator's memories to use it.

>This plan would save her sisters trouble in hunting down males.

>She stroked the operator's head as he slept, exhausted from the long walk, mind-probe, and hours of breeding.

>More men would be coming soon.

>And soon, this world would belong to them.

>No, not yet...but soon.

========================================================================

Day 11 of Invasion

>The storage depot was quiet, save for the ambiance of its existence, and the native fauna

>Lately, a state of alert had been raised, but the PDF troopers were still stuck doing their normal jobs

>Nothing important happened at the Sanguine Ravine storage facility, aside from pointless bullshit

>IF the command structure was converted to a civilian government, it would most likely fall under a malarkey

>So, it was halfway through another sweltering day, when conversation broke out by one of the warehouses

"Do you ever wonder why we're here?"

>Gryffin looked to Sanchez, his best buddy, and rolled his eyes

"One of life's great mysteries isn't it? Why are we here? Random coincidence, the will of the Emperor? My guess is some higher power out there exists for the sole purpose of making us miserable."

"No, I mean why are we here? Aren't we being invaded?"

"By what? Who invades a hot, humid shithole that is Catachan's inbred cousin?"

>Sanchez gestured to the jungle

"I mean, the planet's rich in raw materials, you'd think Command would start issuing orders for the defense."

"Eh, sounds like work."

"And what do you call this then? We just stand here, every day, guarding a warehouse filled with Emperor knows what, patrol the bottom of a box canyon, and move crates. You call that work?"

"Yeah, my ass isn't sitting down, so its work. That's why I tried to apply for the Aeronautica Division."

"You wanted to be a pilot?"

"Yeah, an easy job, but they said the only place for hive scum was the infantry. Didn't stop me from showing up anyways with the...proper documentation."

"You forged your paperwork, didn't you?"

"Pft, no, you have any idea how long it takes for paperwork to be filed in the Administratum? I just bribed the guy taking the papers in, switched he one they filled out in my stead, and handed them in. Guy didn't even blink."

"So you can fly?"

"Yep, Just give me a Valkyrie and I can do cargo drops all damn day."

>Sanchez looked out across the depot, before turning back to Gryffin

"So why are you on guard duty then?"

>Gryffin sighed, and shook his head

"Apparently, bedding the mistress of a Commissar while on leave is a punishable offence. And the base commander was understanding, and had me transferred to this shithole instead of shot."

"Sounds like a great guy."

"Yeah."

>The both stood in silence for a short while, before another question came to Sanchez's mind

"If you rather have a job sitting down, why not work at the Administratum?"

"Because I'm not a frakking masochist."

>for a moment, there was silence, before they broke into laughter

>Said laughter stopped when autogun-fire cracked on the other side of the base

_______________________________________________________________________________

Minutes earlier...

>A small tower sat overlooking the storage depot from one of the cliffs, permitting PDF a clear line of sight

>Two troopers stood watch inside the rickety, and rather unarmored structure

"Anything new out there? Hostile Xenos, surprise visit from the brass, one of the guys on base turning into a mutant?"

"No Parker."

>Parker shuffled, looking out at the green jungle that bordered Sanguine Ravine

"Any hot women or cute girls then? I wouldn't mind scoring a Sororitas."

"Neither would most the men here, however, they have power armor and flamethrowers in abundance. Forgive me if I'm not eager to have my nuts punted into my throat and get set on fire."

>For a good minute, there was silence

"Clarence, you think the Xenos invading us are going to show up?"

"Hell, we don't even know there is an invasion, and Captain Florent says not to worry about it."

"High command will be the death of us all."

>Clarence walked to the other side of the platform, facing towards the Depot, stretching to relive the stiffness in his legs

"I don't know what worse, I watch a bunch of plants or a bunch of people watching boxes."

>The platform creaked suddenly, as though a large weight had manifested, and Parker mate muffled sounds of protest

>Probably Boxcar, the Ogryn that lived on base and declared Clarence to be his "Bestest friend"

>He was also somehow sneaky as hell, and frighteningly intelligent for an Orgyn, almost like a small child

"Hey Boxcar, nice of you to join us."

>There saw no response save a muted slurping noise, when there should have been a very loud childish voice

>He tuned to see...something…frenching the hell out of his buddy, and frak was it big

>For a good moment, everyone in the tower awkwardly stared at one another, before Clarence brought his gun up

>Blind panic had superseded reason, and he fired a burst before he had lined it u with the thing’s head

>A large fleshy mass next to Parker's head burst, and the thing SCREAMED, lashing out

>Clarence cursed as he was knocked out of the tower and on his back, his lungs bereft of air

>This didn't prevent him from unloading the contents of his magazine into the structure, which groaned and collapsed

"Parker, you dead?"

>There was a moment of silence as something whimpered and whined in pain

"Fraking shit, you almost shot me!"

>Clarence changed out the magazine, moving around the tower's crumpled remains carefully

"Is it dead?"

"No, she's hugging me like a stuffed grox after you blew one of her boobs off, I don't blame her...helluva kiss that you interrupted"

"The Commissar will shoot you if you keep talking like that, and he won't miss.'

>Clarence would have said more, if the ground beneath his feet hadn't started to shake

>Chirping and shrieking things flew over the tree line, aiming what looked like guns at him

"Son of a bitch."

___________________________________________________________________________________

>To say the depot had been taken by complete surprise was an understatement

>Making matters worse was the lack of official alarm, and the announcement that played over the speakers shortly after

"All personnel, stand down, there's nothing to worry about."

>Needless to say, Captain Florent's words had the opposite effect, as hi insanity was clear for all to see

>Numerous soldiers tried fighting back, but the sudden appearance of the Xenos had caught everyone off guard

>Needless to say, Simon and Gryffin were looking for the best possible cover from the shitstorm going down

>That they were supposed to be guarding it and not enter under any circumstances were

>Sanchez tried the small access door, but it was very clearly locked

>Gryffin had a much more effective means of opening it, putting several rounds through the lock

"Frak, you almost shot my hand off!"

"Shut up and get inside."

*KA-BOOM*

>Across the base, a promethium tank had gone up, hurling a series of modular containers through the air

>Gryffin had all of about three seconds to appreciate this fact as he spotted one heading for him

"Oh...SHIT"

>He dove inside the warehouse as something large and metallic slammed into the ground where he'd just been standing

>After a moment of pain and choking on dust, he managed to look at the doorway

>It was more or less blocked off, sealing them inside

"Uhg...Sanchez, let's grab some cover."

"Um, you might want a look at this."

>Gryffin turned to behold, a very large, very EMPTY...warehouse

"What the Frak? We've been guarding an empty warehouse for the past six months! I feel betrayed on a level close to the Horus Heresy for this shit!"

"Well, it might be empty now, but that doesn't mean it's unused, there's no us on the floor."

"Dammit, we stopped playing the 'what's in the warehouse guessing game ages ago, and now, now we're going to get eaten...alive."

>Sanchez gestured to the container that more or less blocked the entrance

"They might not come in here...I don't think they know we're in here. And the entrance is blocked, we can probably sit out the attack until they leave."

"Yeah, hide like the last dessert ration while I rummage through the empty cabinets looking for it."

"You have a better idea?"

>Gryffin sighed, before moving toward the back of the warehouse

"So once these Xenos are done eating everyone else, we grab a Valkyrie, some supplies, and fly to where they aren't."

"That might be a problem, I think these are Tyranids."

"And?"

"Um, Gryffin, Tyranids eat the entire planet. All biomass, the oceans, the atmosphere, and the molten core. there isn't a place they won't be, eventually."

"We'll worry about that when we get to it."

>Upon reaching the far wall, they found a terminal, which Sanchez declared would require a tech-priest to open

>So they settled in to wait for a few hours, leaning against the far wall

>After the sounds of fighting died down outside, Gryffin turned to Sanchez

"Hey, if we don't make it, it's been nice knowing you."

"Same here...assuming the Commissar doesn't come striding through the doors

>The large door at the far end of the room shuddered, causing both men to tense

>When it started to tear open, both men leapt to their feet, autoguns leveled

>Guants tried to advance inside, only for the pair to start shooting, the choke-point assisting their efforts

>The flow stopped suddenly, permitting them to reload their weapons, just before the entire door glowed

>There was a hellish cacophony of metal screaming and folding before it was chucked away

>Two monstrously large Tyranids stomped into the room, causing the PDF troopers to sag in despair

>One had a face that only a mother could love, a giant maw of wriggling hooked tentacles

>The other had what looked like windows to an over-sized brain through the eyeless skull that glowed slightly

>Both had boobs as big as a man, sagging and swollen with fluid, to the point where it was leaking

"Welp, we're fraked."

{{As if we would have it any other way.}}

>Both of them stiffened as the voice sounded off INSIDE their minds, a deep rich feminine voice

"Great, a psyker... and a garbage disposal."

>The 'nid with the hentai mouth made some odd gurgling cooing sounds, prompting the other to laugh

{{I couldn't agree more, if he's going to open that big mouth of his, he should put it to good use}}

"Frak this."

>Gryffin fired a burst of lead at the Maleceptor, frowning as they sparked off some kind of barrier, before aiming at the Haruspex

>That's when his gun began glowing, and he was yanked clean across the room, tumbling across the floor

>There was coo that rattled his bones, and he looked up as a bunch of hot slimy tentacle tongues descended on him

"Gryffin!"

>Sanchez tried to shoot, but his gun warped in his hand and he started to levitate slowly across the warehouse

{{Aww, it's really cut when you struggle, now, let's get these clothes off of you}}

>Sanchez tried to resist the psychic force manipulating his limbs and removing his clothing, but it was impossible

>Gryffin was having about as much luck trying to in the most important tongue wrestling match of his life

>His armor and equipment was more or less torn from his body and devoured by the Tyranid

"Ugh, quit slobbering all over me!"

*delighted crooning and slurping*

>A tentacle tipped with smaller tentacles suddenly latched onto his face, silencing any further protests

>With the removal of his pants, another one latched onto his groin, sucking his dick into an orifice

>Increasingly bound, Gryffin could only writhe from the sensations wracking his body

>In his mind, there was no way this should feel good, but it did

>Sanchez meanwhile had been stripped, his clothing laying off to the side neatly folded

{{Now now, no more worrying, just feel<3}}

>His mind was bombarded with pleasant tingles, flashes of strange women hidden in shadow invading his brain

>Their skin was soft, broken by the occasional bony plate, and they whispers sensually in a language he didn't know

>He gave a grunt, trying to think of something else, but the Maleceptor lewded everything, even the math equations

>His body was pressed against something warm and soft, his mouth against a hard nub that leaked something thick and sweet

>All he could do was suck and hump away at the object

>The Maleceptor sighed, glad to have found her sister and herself such wonderful mates

>The loudmouth even seemed to be enjoying the Haruspex's attentions, even if reluctantly

>Soon, this world would belong to the Hive Mind...and from there, well, perhaps more

======================================================================

Day 17 of invasion

>It was official, Tyranids had been sighted on the planet, and you were damned doomed

>So much for backwater colony that had nothing worth invading over and boring career in the PDF.

>A long range patrol had gone dark after requesting more men been sent in to investigate

>The Deep Space Auger Station had also gone dark, so command was essentially blind

>Hence why your company had been sent to go and get it working again

>Into the thick equatorial jungle...which could be crawling with Xenos, that wanted to eat you

>Given that you were somewhat shorter than average, you often struggled with all your gear, but you kept going.

>The Commissar and Tech-Priests were in a hurry...who could really blame them with what was coming?

>Still, something was rather unnerving bout the dense jungle, doubly so when you were only six hours away from the Auger station.

>Everything was far too quiet from what a jungle should have been, everyone was on edge

>Four people had gone missing on the trek, which alarmed the Captain, his men didn't just wander off.

>Commissar was foaming at the mouth however, vowing to execute them and the former patrol for a litany of reasons.

>The Tech-Priests vocalized things along the lines of "Weak Flesh," and "Ignorant meatbags"

>Everyone shut up when the Auspex began beeping

>Wall of guns.exe

>Safeties click off, heavy weapons are set up, makeshift barricades are established in all of 15 seconds.

>All that greets your ears is silence and heavy breathing...

"Thirty meters out, unknown life forms. signature anomalous and weak."

>Auspex has a range of up to 50 meters, must be all the plant life in the area distorting the scan

>Then it starts screaming, and the ground beneath the auspex wielding Tech-Priest opens up, swallowing him.

>Then the jungle explodes into movement, the Tyranids have the entire company surrounded.

>Quills and strange spore filled pods start hammering away at your defenses, or hitting unfortunate guardsmen

>Fly variants swoop in, raining down biological munitions or grabbing guardsmen before slipping off.

>Then things take a turn for the strange when stun grenades start landing around you.

"Grenades!"

>The Commissar is screaming about treacherous filth before a lasbolt takes him down.

>The thought of guardsmen turning from the Emperor is bluntly shoved away by several loud bangs.

>Damned stun grenades.

>It was then that the ground itself exploded, and serpentine Tyranids lunged out

>Guardsmen try their best to hold off the new attack, but it's not enough.

>Several men are tripped, coiled, or outright tackled by Raveners, weapons and armor coming loose.

"There's too many of them."

"We can't hold!"

"Why do they have ti-mmmppphhh!"

>You lasgun fires a few times before a spore mine lands right on the edge of the formation, throwing you through the air.

>You cough, trying to get air back into your lungs, noticing the thick pinkish fog wafting out of the crater.

>It gets in your lungs a few seconds later, your coughing fit intensifying for a moment.

>Everything gets hazy fast, and heat stars to pool in your core and slightly lower.

>Seeing as everything has gone to the fraking warp, you do the only thing you can think of.

>You get into the fetal position, close your eyes, and fall on your side, waiting for the end to come.

>It doesn't, oddly enough.

>You don't hear screams of pain and the ripping of flesh, but armor being torn apart and wet slapping.

>That and your fellow Guardsmen protesting grunting, gagging, and making some rather embarrassing moans.

>You open your eyes to see heretical activities of the Slanneshi kind, leaving you utterly confused.

>The Tyranids aren't killing your brothers in arms, they're fucking them. Or the ones you can see.

>You've been left so struck you hardly notice as a Ravener slithers around you, surrounding you with its...her...body.

>Claws capable of ripping right through you gently reach out and touch, feeling you up as she rumbles gently.

>A long sinuous tongue trails across you neck and along the side of your face, following up with nuzzling and nips.

>She easily lifts you up into sitting position, before dominating you with an approximation of a kiss, one with lots of tongue.

>Even if the spore cloud hadn't fogged up your mind, you have the feeling that She'd end up getting what she wanted from you.

>You fumble with the clasps of your armor, and she cuddles you closer, purring like a well maintained engine.

>The last coherent thing you can recall before your mind was overcome by the haze of pleasure was her words.

"Yes...breed."

________________________________________________________________________________

>The day was coming to a close, and the Tyranids lounged about with their exhausted prizes.

>The humans had been worn out, some had succumbed to sleep.

> Others drank the sugar and protein rich nectar from the Tyranids’ chest glands...breasts was the human word

>Mindprobes from the Lictors had revealed the Guardsmen's objective, and an alarming one at that.

>That sensor could not be activated before the rest showed up, valuable biomass could be lost.

>The small, unique hive mind, split off from the greater one, could be lost.

>While most of the humans had been captured, a squad sized group had broken encirclement and would soon reach the Station.

>The local Hive Tyrant had reassured them not to worry; the sensor station was garrisoned by more...kindred individuals.

>And when that squad arrived, the Tyranids would have more men to enjoy and bond with. Soon...

>No, not yet...but soon.

=======================================================================

>Day 19 of Invasion

>You've been assigned to Bastion 13 a few months back, and it had probably been a punishment form the God-Emperor

>Everything kept breaking down, and the local Tech-Priest worked on his own schedule, and screamed at anyone fixing anything.

>The food was always horrible, the roofing leaked, the commissar was drunk, his cadet was a nut.

>And now you were under attack by Tyranids...a fair number of them.

>They never attacked directly, which you found odd for a species of mindless Xenos bugs

>Didn't they just overwhelm stuff with sheer numbers?

>It didn't matter, they were wrecking the base slowly and surely. Their attacks had started yesterday morning.

>They continued throughout the night, wrecking Comms equipment, blasting away at the fortification with their weapons

>Sarge pointed out several odd things rather swiftly, namely that casualties were absurdly light.

>Only a few people had been killed, the Commissar and his cadet for trying to execute you , the Tech-Priest when he started attacking Jimmy.

>The weapons the Tyranids were using were also non-lethal in most instances, while the lethal stuff hit only equipment.

>Matt and Josh were pinned to a wall with some sort of web grenade that sailed in through the window.

>The heavy bolter they were manning got impaled by a large bony spike, all but destroying it.

>Then there was Jacob, who got hit by some projectile that let loose a cloud of spores upon impacting his chest plate.

>He stumbled around drunk for a few hours, and complained of a constant burning feeling inside him.

>Sarge also pointed out the very uncomfortable fact that these were probing attacks

>So no shit, there your platoon is in a small fortification being slowly worn down by Tyranids.

>The roof and courtyard were off-limits because of some flying Tyranids that kept dive bombing you guys

>The windows were slowly being widened as time went on, and the Tyranids were also attacking the doors.

>You guys only had a heavy stubber and a missile launcher for heavy weapons, with a few stubbers for crowd control.

>Grenades and Ammo would not last another two days of this...let alone a major assault.

>So, you guys decided to sell your lives as dearly as possible.

>Damned shame too, an entire armor regiment had arrived in orbit last night.

>So as dawn breaks over the once proud outpost, you make ready for one final stand.

>That's when the portable Vox caster start squealing as someone dialed into it.

"Attention, Outpost 13, surrender now....resistance is futile."

>The person on the other end is female, but she sounds...strange. Her words however, are chilling.

>Sarge, ever the designated noncom, picks up his end and proceeds to ask who this is and who they think they are?

"We are...many....we have you surrounded....surrender to us..."

>All of you stare at the Vox unit in shock, before Mike states the obvious.

"Uh, Sarge, I think the 'nids are trying to get s to surrender for some reason."

>Sarge declares it a trick of the enemy and puts the outpost on high alert, the attack is coming.

>They do not disappoint.

>The first sign of the assault is what looks like an artillery barrage of a fleshy kind, as spore mines rain down.

>Upon impact, they burst and release a cloud of smoke and spores into the air, like a smoke shell from an Earthshaker.

"Gas gas gas!"

"Masks on boys."

>Soon, there is a blanket of pink tinged fog blanketing the landscape, covering the first level of the base entirely.

>Then something very large starts stomping through it, plowing through the remains of the poor perimeter wall.

"Carnifex!"

>A stonecrusher variant, but that's not as important as it simply smashing into the side of the base like a battering ram.

>Everyone near it stumbles, and the wall it struck develops an alarming crack. It roars again before punching the wall.

>Thricedamn thing was breaking through, and if that is not problem enough, the flying ones, Gargoyles, are back…

>A hail of spore pods, splatters of fluid, and salvos of quills start peppering the firing slits and windows.

>Return fire clips a few of the creatures, but they retreat, and while a few grenades are thrown, it's far too little.

>The wall caves in, and a torrent of Guants come with it. They are met with lasfire and a grenade.

>Sarge is barking orders left and right while firing his stubber, when a doorway is suddenly smashed inwards.

>The Tyranids are just going to keep knocking holes in the walls and pour in through them, but Sarge accounted for this.

>Hell, even the roof access was mined and watched by a pair of men, with the rest protecting the interior of the place.

>Still, there's a shit-ton of Guants, only driven back by blasts from the two flamers the platoon was given.

>One of the men next to you stumbles as numerous quills strike him in the side and arm, but he doesn't die.

>It's as though his body won't move on its own anymore...the quills must contain a paralytic toxin.

>The damned smoke is pouring in through the breaches, and your mask isn't easy to see out of already.

"Fall back men."

>You scramble to follow, firing as you run, the Guants now advancing under their own cover fire.

>Matt it tackled by several of them and is dragged into their mist, his flailing arms the last you see of him.

>You fall back to the motor pool with the rest of the men, only for the large doorway to suddenly be torn open by the Carnifex.

>The heavy stubber thunders, scything through a dozen Gaunts before it's covered in dense webbing.

>Oh frak that's a big bug.

>Tyranid Warrior steps in, the web cannon clutched in lower claws, the upper ones holding a pair of bone swords.

>It's also got...boobs?

>for a moment all is still, before Sarge fires a Krak missile at it, and the fight is on.

>It misses the Warrior, but hits the Carnifex, which prompts it to roar loudly as the Warrior raises its weapon.

>You have your own fight, trying to keep the left flank from collapsing.

>You manage for about ten seconds before a few quills drive into your right forearm.

>Then a Hormagaunt leaps on top of you, pinning you to the floor.

>It probably would come up to your chin if it stood upright, and it weighed as much as your field kit, a good seventy pounds.

>You're doing everything you can to keep the teeth and claws off you, this thing is stronger than it looks

>Tow more join it, one piing your legs to the concrete floor, the other gripping your helmet and mask.

>It yanks them off, but not before you throw the gaunt pinning your chest to the floor off.

>You're barely able to sit up when one of those spore pods smacks into your flak armor, the cloud enveloping your face.

>Warmth builds in your lungs and begins to spread, your body beginning to feel very hot, your face flushing badly.

>The Gaunt behind you keeps you propped upright and begins licking your ear, the sensation sending a shudder through you.

>Across the room and through the haze, Sarge is attacking the Warrior with a damn big wrench.

>A few Gaunts trying to ambush him from behind are accidental victims of the return swing.

>He's gotten a few good hits on the warrior looming over him, it's missing some teeth.

>It...or she, grabs the wrench and gives a long lick across his face.

>Sarge is then thrown across the room and into a storage room, the Warrior stomping after him.

>A scythe with a finger turns your head, permitting the gaunt to tongue-fuck your mouth in your inebriate state.

>You manage to break free...only to see one of the Gaunts...presenting. Your brain just stops.

>Dimly, you can feel the third nuzzling your chest, but the heat and odd sight before you make it impossible to think.

>It isn't that alien looking, hell, its glistening with fluids and twitching slightly as the gaunt waves its rump.

>The heat in your body heads south, and the pheromones in the air do away with silly notions such as resisting.

>The nuzzler slices open your pants carefully, allowing your erection to fall out, twitching slightly.

>So...hot...need to....need to

>Taking the initiative from you, the gaunt backs into you before sitting down, slipping you inside of its...her...

>Thinking becomes very difficult as ridges of hot, wet, slippery, and muscular flesh envelop you.

>Then it starts moving, as though trying to drag you further in...causing you to emit all sorts of embarrassing sounds.

>Your hands grip the firm backside of the Gaunt, trying to leverage enough force to pull out and thrust.

>It chitters happily, squealing at you relentlessly fuck, while the others nuzzle and lick in encouragement.

>You're not sure how long it takes to reach climax, but when it hits the Guant's innards go into overdrive.

>Finally, you slip out and land heavily on your back, the cool floor welcoming with the constant heat.

>The last thing you consciously remember is Gaunts piling atop you for their turn.

__________________________________________________________

>The Vox operator sighed as another outpost checked in, reporting a lack of Tyranid activity where there should have been.

>Thy weren't radiating outward in a consistent circle like Intel had suggested.

>According to General Powerstache, they were acting like an actual army, moving along points of opportunity and gathering strength.

>He'd pointed this out in his meeting with the Commander of the armored regiment that had just arrived.

>Colonel Amelia Astor Emeline Annabele Adele Sambridge however, didn't see the merit in fortifying and taking time to examine this new threat.

>If they were to behave like soldiers, she would crush them like the army they pretended to be.

>Her assault would reach them in three days...and odds are most of it would be taken.

"Outpost 13 to Command, come in Command, over."

>Outpost 13 was infamous for bad Comms and infrequent reports, but the Vox Operator felt unease at the woman's voice.

"Command to Outpost 13, we read you, status report, over."

"Requesting reinforcements, Tyranids in area...send more men, over."

>A chill shot down the Vox operator's spine...he'd heard that line before.

"Negative."

"Send...More...Men."

>He cut the channel and switched to command's main channel to deliver the news...Outpost 13 had been overrun.

==========================================================================

Day 22 of Invasion

>Be in the Imperial guard, more specifically an armored regiment.

>You've had a good run, you were part of a good crew, and you guys had a good tank.

>The Leman Russ Eradicator had seen you through more than a dozen worlds.

>Now you were gonna get eaten by Tyranids, all because the regimental commander had an ego.

>Colonel Amelia Astor Emeline Annabele Adele Sambridge was an absolute toad of a woman in all definitions of the word.

>She was located in her Baneblade Righteous Indignation towards the front of the formation.

>It had a specially built extra-large hatch to permit passage of her wider than tall body.

>She was of noble birth, and had a halfway decent grasp on tactics, which the rest of the regiment picked up the slack.

>This time, she'd gone into the deep end, and was charging a formation of Tyranids without much Intel.

>There had been a lot of conflicting information on those Tyranids, some of it nearly impossible to believe.

>Apparently, rumor had it the Tyranids were all female...very female...and had been abducting guardsmen.

>It had been two days since the formation had set out, and you were now entering an area the locals called the Scrub-land.

>Islands of trees in a large grassy plain, set before a large equatorial forest. This was where the Tyranids had to cross.

>The Toad's grand plan involved digging into those islands of trees and blasting at the 'nids until they stopped coming.

>This would work, if a Genestealer cult wasn't using the deep space scanners to jam most of the orbital sensors.

>That and the heat scans were useless thanks to the dense foliage...so nobody knew exactly where the Tyranids were.

>Your tank Commander could only agree, as had the only sane Commissar in the regiment, Commissar Wolfe.

>So, you all had a few good laughs, and started heading into the final battle you would ever be part of.

>Nervously, you clutch at the forward bolter's handles, thumbs over the triggers, panning back and forth as you scan for a target.

>Forest is another hour ahead when it all goes to shit.

>Forward scouting unit stats facing Tyranids, mostly Gaunts with a few warriors mixed in.

>Odd part about the initial report is that they are in foxholes and trenches, scattered near the little forest islands.

>The Colonel is not happy about this, and either tries to bellow order into her Vox caster or eat the damned thing.

>Toadie Commissars translate this as drive the damned Xenos filth out, those are our positions to occupy, not theirs.

>Grudgingly, your unit does so, Your tank and a Punisher pushing up the front, a Hellhound to the flanks, and a standard Leman Russ at the back.

>Then it starts raining spore mines and other Tyranid munitions, all over the place, and with odd effects

>Some of the spore mines slow to a stop a short distance off the ground thanks to parachutes, and belch out immense clouds of smoke.

>Within moments, a wall of thick fog tinged pink surround the tree islands, and more are landing around the forward parts of the formation.

>Then the Tyranids start pummeling the column with all manner of munitions, with a variety of effects.

>It would seem that the Tyranids are using a mirror of the Colonel's "Grand Plan" against her.

>Upon realizing and/or being informed of this, she proceeds to voice her feeling on the matter to everyone in earshot

"REEEEEEEEEE"

>Suffice to say, things go very bad, very swiftly, but through no fault of the vehicle crews.

>The fog is thick enough to hide the large breeds of Tyranids, Tyranofexes, Exocines, Carnifexes, the works.

>Everyone began to clump up, turning their guns outwards and hosing down swarms of Gaunts.

>But then they change tactics almost immediately, shooting and advancing while in cover.

>Then the ground starts opening up near tanks, as Raveners eject from the soil along with groups of Warriors and Genestealers.

>Your formation is able to avoid encirclement, and Commissar Wolfe is sane enough to know when to fall back.

"Tactical Withdraw," He orders from his Vanquisher, "Cover each other and keep moving. Do not stop."

>The withdraw immediately takes place, as all but the most stubborn/insane individuals would see the folly of sticking around

>Doubly so with the way this ambush had taken, and was still taking place.

>Radio chatter indicates that most of the column is being immobilized and disarmed. And that the Tyranids do have boobs.

>Most notably, they use some kind of rapidly hardening resin to immobilize their targets, preventing them from escaping

>Even as you hose down a Ravener, you note entire tanks are coated in bony resin or thick webbing, weapons destroyed.

>Odd behavior for a race who exist to consume all in their path, especially as reports come in of guardsmen being grabbed.

>Then shit hits the fan, as a Chimera on the right explodes, the work of a Baneblade cannon.

>Colonel Amelia Astor Emeline Annabele Adele Sambridge was definitely pissed, executing her own people for running.

>Clearly, she and most Commissars think it is do or die...and as such, are chasing down the "defectors"

>Suddenly, the Leman Russ is knocked clean over from below, and you are slammed up against one of the walls.

>A few seconds later, you and the rest of the crew bail out, laspistols drawn and scrambling to catch up

>You do not want to get left behind, but it's clear that you might not have very long to climb onto a vehicle.

>Something massive screams, and you turn to watch what happens, curiosity overcoming common sense.

>The largest Ravener you've ever seen was charging the Righteous Indignation, claws wide.

>A hole is blown through it, and you can see the fat toad smiling sadistically from her perch, as she turns the stormbolter toward you.

>Death is only prevented when the world around you explodes tossing you into the air a few feet and dumping you into the dirt

>Your ears are ringing and vision is blurred, but you've grown used to shell-shock, so it passes quickly.

>The Righteous Indignation is covered in bony resin, webs, and quite a few weapons have been blown off.

>The toad, somehow, didn't get hit by all of this, and is struggling to heave herself from the hatch.

>You can hear the sound of her cursing easily, even with the battle raging near you

SCREEEEE

>The frak is that?

>A giant Tyranid you've never seen before comes out of the hole next to your tank and runs at the Baneblade.

>It covers the distance in moments, knocking a few smaller Tyranids out of the way.

>It has no problem lifting the screaming fat woman from the tank, before its chest suddenly opens.

>Colonel Amelia Astor Emeline Annabele Adele Sambridge was popped into its chest-mouth like a hors d'oeuvre

>The thing takes a few lumbering steps before lurching to a halt, and expelling the Colonel, retching and gagging.

>Well, who would think a race of Xenos that literally ate everything in sight to be picky eaters?

>moments later, she's given a thorough coating of rapidly hardening resin, immobilizing her entirely

>Didn't see where the crazy 'nid was, but seeing as you lost your laspistol, you don't want to draw attention to yourself

>You come around a dirt embankment, only to see a sight that makes your blood run cold

>It's a damn Exocrine, and its aiming for the retreating armor with its bio-plasma weapon.

>Not only that, it seems to be aiming for Commissar Wolfe's tank, as though it knows he's coordinating the retreat.

>You have to stop it, but how do you stop a Tyranid the size of a tank...run up and stab it in the ass?

>Speaking of ass, it isn't half bad for a massive insectoid monster that fires plasma

>A bit of fluid dribbles down as it shifts slightly...and if your awkward first time with a woman had taught you anything...

>You run forward, beg the Emperor for forgiveness for what you're about to do...

>With your running start, you slide under the creatures short stubby tail, and spot your target.

>It's oddly human looking, if a little upsized and drooling copiously

"For the Emperor!"

>Years of being the forward gunner on a Leman Russ ensures your aim it true.

>Your hand slips inside easily thanks to the lubrication, and thankfully, there are no teeth.

>You manage to get halfway to your elbow when she clenches down and gives a bone-rattling shudder.

>Grimacing, you begin thrusting your fist into the creature, doing your best to fight the gripping muscles

>You have the most awkward and shameful boner right now...but if the creatures breathing is anything to go by, it's distracted.

>You spot a familiar nub of flesh, and decide to double down on this heresy.

>Bio-plasma screams from the creature and strikes the ground fifty meters away, showering everything in hot soil.

>You permit yourself a moment of triumph, the rest of the regiment should be safe...for now at the very least.

>The deep rumble from above reminds you just where you are, and the flesh gripping your arm tightens.

>Self-sacrifices is great and all, but you've just molested a very large Tyranid...and damned your soul to the warp.

>It raises its tail and backside, before it starts thrusting back, causing you to smack into her enormous ass.

>For a few moments, you're treated like a combination of paddleball and dildo.

>The Exocrine goes still, before it decides to be rid of you.

>You were not prepared to be used as a sex toy, much less several tons of ass striking you at high speed.

>You go tumbling, coming to rest at the edge of a crater, with a severe case of tank shock.

>When it clears, you're staring up at a panting exocrine, a very long tongue hanging from its fanged maw and....

>By the Emperor, each of its...her boobs, are bigger than you...how did it move with those things?

>And why was the cannon giving you bedroom eyes?

>With a growl, one of the enormous talons impales your pants through the crotch.

>Then it kisses you, and by kiss, you mean force about a foot of tongue into your mouth.

>Your jaw aches, and the hot, slimy muscle invading your mouth wriggles in your throat.

>Your trousers are torn with ease, exposing you dick to the Exocrine, and to any onlooking Tyranids

>Breaking its kiss, the Exocrine trails its tongue down your chest before giving you a few licks

>You do your best not to react, but you still squirm under its touch.

>Suddenly, it stops, before glaring up at its cannon, which is glaring back? Alien Biology

>Suddenly, the damned plasma cannon is leveled at you, the opening twitching slightly.

>Your first instinct is to dodge, but you're suddenly under a barrage of quills and a spore pod.

>You slump back down to the ground, a dozen quills in your limbs and a spore cloud engulfing your head.

>On the lip of the crater, a few Gaunts engage in what sounds like laughter.

>You can be bothered to think too hard on that, you feel really hot for some reason, and its heading south.

>You can hardly move as the Exocrine takes your dick into its plasma cannon.

>Thanks to the tongue job earlier, you slide in as the opening grips down on your cock.

>Then the damned thing vibrates somehow, and you groan from the sensation.

>Why does this feel so good?

>As you begin to reach your climax, you come to a sudden understanding that these weren't mere Tyranids.

>They had to be Daemonids of Slanessh...it explained far too much.

>All further thoughts are cut off as you erupt, moaning like a virgin.

>Panting, you come to your sense as a shadow is cast over you.

>The last thing you see is the Exocrine's ass coming down atop you.

___________________________________________________________________________________

>Be General Powerstache

>Your glory days had long since passed, and you'd been stuck on this backwater planet because of politics

>No more glorious charges

>No more grand Campaigns

>Just making sure order is kept on this new colony

>You've faced the Great Devourer before, you knew how it worked

>This world was doomed, no matter how badly you stalled.

>To make matters worse, they were all very much female, and were like rabbits in spring.

>Normally, this would not be so bad, but the sector governor had decided that his new colony would be founded by prisoners

>Only male criminals were sent here, and without a woman in sight...some were less reserved.

>Desertion was a problem, and the Commissars were barely holding things together.

>Commissar Wolfe managed to save 30% of a doomed armored regiment, a small miracle.

"Sir, Servo-Skull with a message for you."

"Hmm, what does it say?"

"It's marked for your eyes only."

>You motion for the Servo-Skull to play its message, and the face of a haggard Guardsman appears.

"This is Sergeant Greg Mansfield of outpost 13," HE announces, "This is probably all manner of heretical, but I think I've found a weakness in the enemy."

==========================================================================

Day 19 of invasion

> Be Sergeant Greg "Sarge" Mansfield of the Emperor's most vaunted Imperial Guard.

>Be assigned to backwater prisoner established colony by the Administratum after years of front-line service

>Be assigned to Outpost 13, the bottom of the bottomless pit in regards to worst place to be stationed

>The Commissar drank constantly, and was swift to find any source of booze and confiscate it.

>He'd come up with inane punishments, only understandable thanks to years of listening to your drunk squad-mates.

>His cadet was worse, a damnable sociopath who got off on shooting people...for any reason.

>Somehow Commissar Drunk kept him in line, if only barely, and you somehow managed to keep the boys from offing him

>IT would have been worth it, a small, heretical voice argued...a unfortunate accident...but temptation was to be resisted.

>Then there was that damned, asine, Tech-Priest, assigned to Outpost 13 because anywhere else would result in his death.

>Only he was sanctified to fix anything, lest the machine spirits be displeased, and anything you fixed, well, best get the litanies right.

>But somehow, you and the boys made things work, despite the entirety of the galaxy doing its best to prevent it.

>Outpost 13 became a horrible home, but you knew there were worse places to be.

>And then the damned Tyranids showed up, bringing back memories of that ill-fated struggle.

>You still had nightmares from that Emperor forsaken planet, which had long been reduced to a lifeless husk of itself.

>Now, it was going to happen all again...and there was nothing you could do about it.

>But the Emperor protects, and even if you were to die, you be at his side.

>As dawn started breaking on Outpost 13, the boys had looked to you for guidance.

>The situation had passed grimdark long ago, but Outpost 13 had ingrained you all with a dark sense of humor.

>Then that dammed Vox unit had delivered something that would shake an Imperial Fist.

>Since when did the Tyranids demand someone surrender?

>They should have overrun this base days ago with their numbers...not treat it as mostly unimportant.

>Then the attack came in earnest, and they started punching holes in the walls, as though they somehow knew the doors were wired.

>After a minute, you and the rest of the boys had been forced into the indoor motor-pool.

>As expected, the damned Carnifex tore the door open, allowing Gaunts to pour into the room.

>They were shredded by fire from the heavy stubber, and you could feel the combat stim starting to kick in.

>Then the stubber was enveloped by what looked like white sticky goop which rapidly harden into webs.

>The damned warrior strides in like it owns the place, and your vision begin to tinge with red.

>You roar, lifting the only missile launcher you had access to and sending a Krak missile at it.

>It managed to dodge the missile, turning and watching as it struck the Carnifex in the knee.

>The roar was almost deafening, but so too was the amount of gunfire in the enclosed space.

>You broke your stubber on a Gaunt's face, spattering yourself with gore, as you reached for your backup weapon.

>A meter long wrench that was often used to adjust the Tech-priest, to be precise.

>Bellowing, you charge forward through the Gaunts, each swing of the wrench sending them flying.

>Seconds later, you're before the Warrior, which looms over you by a good two feet.

>Thing has the nerve to smile at you, and despite the fact it's the size of an Astartes, you don't care.

>You didn't care that you were hopelessly outclassed

*ping*

>You didn't care that you were going to die

*clang*

>You didn't care that the thing had boobs

*ping*

>You just wanted to wipe the smile off the fraking things ugly face!

*catch*

>The wrench came to a jarring halt in one of the Warrior's hands, the tool bent and covered in blood

>As for the Tyranid warrior, it was missing a few teeth and the chitin shell was chipped in a few spots...

>And it was still grinning, even as it bent down to look you in the eye, a rumbling chuckle in its chest.

>Idly, you notice it's grabbed you balled up fist in one of the other hands it has free.

>The overly long tongue draaggs up your face and neck, the thing purring like the engine on a Chimera.

"Yessss....you will do."

>theabsolutefrak.face

>Then you go flying across the room and through the doors to the tech-priest's workshop.

>Fortunately, you still have plenty of combat stim running through your blood, though that doesn't help with matters.

>Tyranids weren't supposed to talk...or have boobs.

>You can both hear and feel the thing approaching, along with the sounds of your men being slaughtered.

>Wait a moment, that doesn't quiet sound like moans of despair and meat being ripped apart...are they having an orgy out there or something?

>You do your best to suck air back into your lungs and stand up.

>The Tech-priest kept his workshop dimly lit, light from the cogitator screens and various devices being the only light.

>Numerous chains dangle from the ceiling, and a pair of heavy duty servitors are tucked against a wall.

>Getting back on your feet, you spot a workbench with a few items on it, brightly lit by the lamp.

>It's then that the door comes off its hinges as the warrior steps in, her eyes drinking in your form.

>You're lifted into the air like a toy, level with the thing's drooling maw.

>Still purring like an engine, she slathers your face with her hot, slimy tongue, forcing it into your lips.

>You can't close your teeth fast enough, and it slides down your throat, making you gag.

>One of its hands starts fondling your junk, and you realize just what she's after, and you redouble your struggles.

>It amounts to little, as the Tyranid warrior had more arms and is more woman than you could ever handle.

>Despite the fact she is a foul Xenos, the warrior is giving you an expert hand-job, but you're not getting hard for some reason.

>After a minute of this, the Tyranid grunts in frustration, breaking the kiss and lifting your crotch to eye level.

>She grumbles, before bringing you close and taking a good sniff, as if trying to puzzle out the problem.

"It it broken?"

>Inwardly, you hope not, because Xenos or not, you'd be more than a little stiff at this point.

"You won't violate me Xenos scum," You growl, "Besides, I prefer actual women to whatever twisted mockery you kind have created."

"Oh?" The warrior says, her Gothic heavily accented, "This one is superior to your females in every way possible."

>Before you can argue, your head is shoved firmly between her breasts, the soft flesh spilling over your shoulders and sealing you in.

>Sound from the outside world is muffled completely, permitting you to hear the heavy breathing of the Tyranid Warrior

>Her pulse sounds strange, as though there is more than one heart thumping away in her chest.

>She's using her upper arms to both immobilize your own and keep your head between her boobs.

>The lower ones are gripping your ass in a manner that can be summed up as the word "Mine."

>She's also using them to grind you against her lower lips, which leak a thick, hot, and sticky fluid while flexing slightly.

>Pious servant of the Emperor or not, no man should be soft under this much feminine assault, so why are you...

>It hits like a power-fist: the combat stim is directing your blood-flow to your muscles, and away from your groin.

>Once it wears off, the damned Xenos will violate you to her heart's content...not good.

>She's also getting frustrated with the lack of stimulus, hell, she even makes a whine, only for it to stop short, replaced by a growl.

>You are yanked from between her breasts, inhaling great gulps of air, while the Tryanid squirms for some reason.

"Wha's a mattah," You say, "Can gettit up?"

She squints, "What did you do to yourself human?"

"Neva."

>She heaves you against a workbench, before turning around and presenting her ass...one that would be the envy of many Imperial nobles.

>You're still out of breath from the breast smothering earlier, you can't move in time before you're buried within it.

>You try to force it off you, our fingers sinking to the second joint in fat, but the steel cables that are her muscle tell all.

>Tyranid Warriors can weigh in at a metric ton, and even if this one is on the petite side, you can't force her away.

>Her drooling cunt is pressed firmly against your lips, and her rocking smears it across your face

"Lick or suffocate...the choice is yours human."

>Her damn tail drapes over your skull in an effort to drive you further in, the creak of muscle audible.

>You have to escape before you run out of oxygen, or before the combat stim wears off.

>You hand fumbles across the workbench, looking for something, anything to use to try and get her off.

>She slaps her own ass-cheeks, the concussive wave jarring your brain and breaking your focus.

>A bit of her fluid enters your mouth, the sweet substance sending heat flooding through your face, and then southwards.

>You dick gives a slight twitch, something the warrior makes a note of.

"Ah, so it does work," She coos, "It just needed...convincing."

>Another slap, the concussions and lack of oxygen pushing you to desperation, your body seizing up.

>Your hand brushed against a button, and without hesitation you push it.

>There is a whirring and clacking sound from the far side of the room, as the servitors boot up.

"MEAT DETECTED....SPECIES...TYRANID...TYPE...WARRIOR...SUBDUE."

>The Tyranid turns, gasps, and moves away, freeing you to gulp down what air you can while struggling to your feet.

>She seems terrified of the servitors lurching toward her from the shadows, but that might be oxygen deprivation.

>You examine the remote a little more carefully, as well as whatever else is on the workbench

>It seems to control the overhead lift assembly, with an added button for the servitors.

>There is also something that can only be described as a power-dildo, with a note "short battery life, needs improving"

>Third...by the Emperor everyone thought the tech-priest had destroyed it.

>It's a modified missile launcher, but with a servo-skull warhead for sending long range messages...you could notify command.

>Still, you wish you had something of value to send to command, other than Outpost 13 being overrun.

>Wait...

>You give the power-dildo a good look...and recall that Tyranid warriors are synapse creatures...

>If killing one of them sent the lessers into a frenzy...this was heretical, but given you were damned anyway...wouldn't hurt to check.

>One thing is certain however, she is terrified of the servitors...trying to remove them from her arms but also trying to avoid hurting them.

>She was also babbling like a civilian in a chaos war-zone, nearly close to tears.

>Well, given that said servitors used to be good friends of yours at one point, you understood the horror of their dead expressions.

>Damned tech-priest had really rubbed it in.

>The three of them were beneath the series of chains and hoist equipment, it looked fairly heavy...

>You glance down at the remote and find the right...ah, there's the button.

Cling*

"WARNING"

*Crash*

>Huh, that actually worked, the Warrior is pinned, and conveniently ass up and relatively unharmed.

>You heft the power dildo and a length of chain, before turning it on.

*BZZZZZZZZZZ*

"What are you doing? What happened to those people? Get this off of meeeEeEh?!"

>She's leaking like a faucet, and just a brush off the power dildo makes her let out a shrill cry, her legs twitching.

>Oddly human too...you shake your head and decide to get on with this...heresy.

"No," She actually has the audacity to beg, "Not like this, I'm supposed to pin you down, you're human...how did you?"

"Listen well Xenos," You say, "You and your foul kin might have defiled my men and damned them to a fate worse than death...but you haven't beaten us. So, even if you have victory today, I will make it as bitter as possible. Now, let's see if my theory holds true."

>She makes some strange chittering noise and you start to apply pressure and penetrate her with the power dildo.

>Her efforts to remain silent fail, her moan escaping between clenched teeth and deep enough to vibrate your ribs.

>You hear movement, and spot a few Hormagaunts entering the room...they seem to be slightly out of it

>Just give a little push...and they buckle at the knees, and you wince at the sound of talons scraping the rockcrete floor.

>Hopefully those chains hold.

>You ease the power dildo in and out, ignoring the Warrior and focusing on the reactions of the Gaunts.

>As predicted, they squirm with increasing intensity, along with the Warrior's growling and thrashing.

>You flip the power-dildo into high power, and slide it in as far as it can go into the clenching cunt of the Tyranid.

>The Warrior raises her head in silent scream as she locks up, twitching and thrashing as she climaxes.

>All of the Gaunts go rigid with their own, mewling and chirping, a few of them begin to masturbate.

>Hell, you even hear the Carnifex outside roar...damn that has some range to it.

>Well, with that confirmed, you best deliver that message to high command, might do them some good.

>There is the sound of metal straining, and you turn to see the Tyranid warrior pulling on her restraints, one of the chains coming apart.

>You heft the missile launcher and run out of the storage room, and come across the remains of your men's last stand

>Hard to spot most of the boys, given that they're buried under a number of Gaunts...or impaling them.

>In the other room, the Tyranid Warrior cries out again, and every Gaunt in the room follows suit, twitching madly

>There's no time to waste however, you've got to get to the roof of the compound, and get that message out.

>Jim and Dwayne had briefed you on the Servo Skull Launchers functions; it was easy to activate the thing.

"Please select message destination."

"General Powerstache."

"Recording initiated after the *beep*"

"This is Sergeant Greg Mansfield of Outpost 13. This is probably all manner of heretical, but I think I've found a weakness in the enemy."

>You dash up the stairs, the servo skull shifting to keep your face in view.

"I was able to pin down a Tyranid Warrior inside the tech-priest's workshop...found something I can only describe as a power dildo."

>Second floor has a few gunners pinned down by Gargoyles, their eyes tracking you as you move across the room to the ladder.

"I'm not sure that you've been informed that the Xenos are...very female, and perhaps a bit to human for anyone's liking."

>Looks like the 'nids set off the mines up top, if the bits of blood dribbling down were any indication.

"They seem to have the singular goal of defiling us through...explicit means sir, but this can be a weakness if exploited correctly."

>You shoulder the launcher and begin to climb, taking care not to slip. Outside, the Carnifex lets out another wail of pleasure.

"The manual states that killing the big ones send the little ones into a frenzy or even outright kills them. As stated earlier, I was able to incapacitate a warrior."

>You finally reach the top, only to hear numerous metallic snaps, and the most sulfurous swearing to leave a woman's mouth.

"I found that inducing...ah hell, I got her to orgasm, every Guant in the building and the Carnifex outside came too."

>You stare at the Servo Skull, before giving it a short salute.

"Not sure I have any other information of value, Outpost 13 is overrun, consider this our final message. The Emperor Protects."

"End recording."

>With a beep, the servo-skull locks into flight position, and you aim in the general direction of High Command.

>Hopefully, they get this in time.

*Fw-WHOOSH*

>You have about three seconds to enjoy watching that thing sail off into the distance before numerous pricks lace your body.

>Moments later, your arms turn to jelly, and a pair of Gargoyles land next to you. They looks a little flushed.

>You're flown back to the motor-pool, where one very pissed off warrior is waiting for you, her eyes partially glazed over.

"You'll wish you'd just given in human."

>She lifts you into the air by your legs, spreading them as you come face to face with the power dildo.

*Shloorp*

*BZZZZZZZZZ*

>She takes hold of the power-dildo as though it were a dagger and raises it high overhead, the target obvious.

>You can't even clench your backside, let alone grit your teeth, in preparation for what was to come.

*BZZZZzzzzzzzzttt....*

>Both of you stare at the power dildo, and you thank the Emperor the tech-priest did not solve his battery problem.

>It's then you land square on your back upon one of the utility vehicles, the Tyranid leering at you, taking in shaky breaths.

"You've managed o outwit, overpower, and have a better run of luck than me, human, have any idea how arousing that is?"

>She hoists both of your legs into the air, while her other hand guides your rock-hard erection inside.

>Her walls grip down like an iron fist in a wet, hot velvet glove, drawing a gasp from your lips

"I just know our offspring will be powerful and able leaders...doesn't that excite you?"

>You do your best to look away, overcome with shame that you hadn't even had a chance to deny them your body.

>Another of her hands grips your head and forces you to look at her, her expression gleeful.

"I want to watch as your eyes roll back into your skull and your tongue loll out of your mouth."

"I want to see it when you break!"

>Her hips slam into yours, her internal musculature seemingly designed to milk you dry...but still, you do your best to resist

>You're not sure how long you last, but she smashes her hips against yours and does a grinding rolling combination.

"Why resist, why not just give in? You only delay the inevitable."

"That's what the guard does best, Xenos..."

>Her motions intensify, and while you do delay her prize, she all but sucks it out of you when you climax.

>Along with a good part of your soul, you assume.

>For moment, you lie there, panting, struggling to understand why such a horrible thing felt so good.

>Then she molests your mouth and throat with her tongue, moaning in delight.

"We're just getting started sergeant, I want to see. You. Break!"

________________________________________________________________________________

>General Cornelius Rupert had watched the recording loop for several iterations before hitting the pause button on the cogitator.

>For a while, he sat in silence, the ambiance of his private study broken only by muted intercom messages.

>Then, his mustache began to twitch, and a smile broke out on his face.

"So, that's what you want, you want the D."

>He grinned feraly, leaning over the pic-screen displaying the second floor of the outpost.

"Very well Xenos, you'll get the D, but it's going to be on our terms."

>He began to laugh, as a new tactical plan began to form.

>He might just be able to buy enough time for naval reinforcements to liberate this planet.

=============================================================

>Day 24 of Invasion

>Working for the mechanics had a few downsides, but it was a living that you'd come to accept.

>Sure, there were hazardous conditions, hours were long, and pay was modest, but it was a living.

>The constant jeers from the numerous tech-priests about the weakness of flesh was demeaning but...tech-priests hated all meat-bags equally

>There were benefits to working for them however, nothing ever stayed broken down for long.

>That, and in the event of invasion, the ore processing plant had a few squads of Skitarii and several servo-turrets.

>Good thing too, because a bunch of Tyranids had decided to come and attack the place.

>The din of battle roared around you now, as you and your fellow workers sought cover.

>Somehow, the Tyrnaids had started pouring up a cooling intake pipe leading to a nearby lake.

>They also knew how to use det-packs for some reason or another, and were pouring in.

>Oddly, they were behaving a lot differently than what you were told to expect.

>For one, you'd spotted a tide of Gaunts to run into a room, only to scramble out, lumbering servitors in pursuit.

>Then there was a really big one, with a set of boobs that probably generated their won gravitational pull.

>Finally, they seemed more interested in capturing people alive for some reason, he more lethal ordinance aimed at defenses.

"THAESE AHH MOY MAHSHAYNS!"

>You look across the room to see Ned "Ironjaw" Kelly, kicking all kinds of Xenos ass.

>Of all the Tech priests here, he was one of the nicer ones, opting to replace his fleshy bits only when they broke.

>Bit obsessive when it came to the equipment in the plant, regarding it his babies or something.

>Now he'd donned a suit of what could only be called servo-armor and was laying into the 'nids

>You resumed running along a catwalk, trying to figure out where exactly an evacuation point was, or if there was one.

>Probably the landing pads, that's where you were running now, panting and gasping.

>On a higher walkway, a coworker screamed as a flock of Gargoyles descended on him.

>Up and away he went, bits of his clothing raining down, his screams cutting out suddenly.

>Your feet pound across the metal grating, head swiveling frantically to identify any threats to your existence.

>Tyranids consumed entire worlds, even if you did get out of the facility alive, you'd die a horrible death.

>You weren't that desperate, not just yet, you were going to get out of here alive.

"Warning, emergency shutdown protocols in effect. Please turn equipment off and proceed calmly towards the exits."

>Throne-dammed automated messenger, proceeding calmly towards the exits was not the optimal strategy in these circumstances.

>Great, you've been around the Cogboys long enough you're starting to think like them.

>You spot a lift shaft a hundred feet from you, and break into a sprint, it should take you to an upper level.

>One with access to the landing pads, and hopefully covered by the servo-turret defenses.

*Slam*

>Hope dies with that noise, as something invisible lands on the catwalk a few yards away, metal buckling under the weight

>Slowly, it becomes translucent, then fully viable, pale pinkish skin with dark pink/moderate purple armor.

>Its upper limbs are long, looming above it in the air as it stalks towards you, twitching slightly.

>The mouth is covered with writhing, drooling tentacles, and its...her breast are bigger than your head.

>You're not sure on whether you should be frightened or horny, leaving you with a very confused boner.

>Matters are not help by the Tyranid bouncing her boobs and making a come hither gesture.

"01000110 01010101 01000011 01001011 00100001"

>A heavy weapons servitor slams down in front of the Tyranid, causing the catwalk to buckle heavily.

>Your ribs ache after being slammed into the rail, but the 'nid's attention is on the heavy bolter the servitor carries.

>She pins it to the catwalk with a lightning fast movement of her upper arms, but the Servitor is not dissuaded.

>There is a burst of bolter-fire that tears into the supports of the particular section of catwalk.

>The 'nid's eyes widen and she gives a small shriek as they plummet downwards.

>Praise the Emperor, now, to clear the gap.

>Somehow, you barely manage to clear it, nearly falling into the abyss yourself, grunting and swearing as you pull yourself up.

>You pull a length of rail free to use as a bludgeon, better than using your fists for something like that.

>Right, the cargo lifts, you hit the call button and the barred entrance opens, revealing a waiting car for you to take.

>You smack the button for the level you need, sighing slightly as the doors close.

>Oddly enough, a hymn to the Omnissiah begins to play from a static-y speaker...

>You're almost to the correct level when the whole lift rocks, and metal squeals somewhere above you.

>The lift is stuck between levels, another maintenance catwalk below, a heavy freight line above.

>There's a loud static squeal, and the music stops playing.

"Hey, cahn someone geeve me a hahnd weeth thiiies Tyrynid Guahd? She's a biieht haefty t' hahndle on moy own heah!"

>Well, Ironjaw seems a little to occupied to fix the lift.

"Oi, come bahck weeth moy suhvao-trousahs yah dahmned Genstaylah!"

>Before you can move, the door to the lift is pried open by a very familiar set of forelimbs.

"Stop running, I don't want you tired out."

"...You...talk?"

"Oh, trust me," She coos, "There's no need for words human, not for what I have in mind."

>You're about to retort when an ominous stomping noise starts getting louder and shaking the lift.

"MAAANNNN!"

>Incoming Carnifex with immense bouncing boobs and copious drooling.

>You throw yourself to the floor away from the door the moment she collides with the upper part of the lift.

>There is an un-fathomable series of metallic rending noises, flailing limbs, and Xenos screaming.

>It ends with the smaller Tyranid doing her best to hold the chain keeping the car up.

>Then the Carnifex grips the chain, and gives it a yank.

>There is a loud clink, and a collective "Oh Shit!" moment, before you rocket downwards.

>Good news, you're getting away from the Tyranids.

>Bad news, you're plunging to your death!

>You manage to fist the E-brake just in time, the car screaming to a halt moments before it could hit the bottom of the shaft.

>With a grunt, your roll out of the lift, and onto your back in the dusty lower level, gigging hysterically.

>After a minute, you get up and have a look around the sub-level you stopped at.

>It's deserted, machinery in various states of shutdown, and a large hole burrowed in the wall.

>Probably how some of the Tyranids got into the place. You begin to search for a weapon...and freeze.

>Floating a foot off the floor is a rather serpentine Tyranid with tentacles for hands, and a tentacle covered mouth.

>She purrs, pressing her hands, and by extension of arms, her boobs, together, batting her eyelashes at you.

>This is all accompanied by an expulsion of pink hearts from the vents on her back.

>It might have fallen under the description of cute if you weren't so hopped up on adrenaline.

>You turn to run, only to hear a giggle from the Tyranid, before several slender warm fleshy things wrap around your body.

>Your arms are bound, one slips around your mouth, neck and down the front of your shirt, and the last one around your waist.

>A moment later, you're yanked up against something rather warm and sturdy.

>Your head is nestled between her fleshy boobs, and your legs held against her tail by a pair of small limbs.

>Her tentacles on your arms wrap tightly around your chest, and constrict alongside the one around your waist.

>You grunt into the tentacle around your mouth as air is forced from your lungs, slowly but surely.

>Spots are starting to dance in your vision, the tentacle around your neck not quiet strangling you.

>She giggles, her mouth coming near to you ear, her breath hot on your neck.

"Now human, do me a favor," *inhale* "Breathe."

>With that, the tentacles loosen your hold, allowing you to take in great gulps of air...from the very dense cloud of spores now around you.

>It's too late to do anything as you inhale sweet warm air in a desperate attempt to get some oxygen.

>Within seconds, your body goes from exhausted, to warm, to hot and sweaty, the heat surging south.

>Some oily substance is secreted from the tentacles, soaking into your skin, leaving you overly sensitive to every touch.

>Pink haze obscures both your vision and mind, and when it clears a bit, your face to face with the Venomthrope.

>Your clothes are gone, and the tip of your dick was pressed against a flexing pair of hot and wet lips.

"Go ahead human, you want this, You need this."

>Weakly, you thrust your hips, only for her lower limbs to force you inside.

>Muscular ridges grip on your member tightly, pulling you deeper.

>A very shameless noise leaves your throat, your brain a little too far gone to think rational, if at all.

>Mindlessly, you try to thrust deeper into whatever wonderful place you found yourself.

>Your body is pressed against that of the Tyranid, her breast engulfing your head, her heart(s) thumping in your ears.

>Inside her, you penis comes into contact with a tight ring of muscles it struggles to get past.

>With a grunt, you manage to get through it with a small pop, the ring clamping behind your glans.

>You make a muffled scream as the head encounters dozens of little bumps that jostle and brush against it.

>It's too much...and the ring prevents you from pulling out of there.

>Overwhelmed by sensation, you more or less explode, white overtaking your senses and your body going into spasms.

>Her body goes into overdrive, sucking away at your dick as though trying to extract every last drop, your brain, and your soul for good measure.

>It's too much, it won't stop.

>After an eternity, you feel a prick at the base of your neck, and everything kinda becomes numb and distant.

>You're really tired for some reason, and gently, a nipple is pressed against your mouth.

>The last conscious thought you have is that the nectar flowing into your mouth taste good.

_______________________________________________________________________________

>The Venomthrope sighed in relief as the human passed out, still suckling away.

>She was fairly certain she'd botched something, human males weren't supposed to cum that hard and that long...were they?

>A bit of nearby hive-chatter came from nearby, causing her to turn with some amusement.

OhfuckthatwashotImclosesoclose

>A translucent and masturbating Lictor was not far away, leaning on her forelimbs for support.

fuckfuckImgonnagonnauahfuhisuhgiuthgiusfijsiejgoit

>Voyeurs, the lot of them.

>Then she noticed the Carnifex, somehow upside-down in the lift shaft.

Helpisstuckneedsomehumanfuckneedout

>Well, that happened.

>Suddenly, a door on the far side of the room burst open, and a Genestealer ran out and into the entry tunnel

Madhumanafterme

>A moment later, the wall the door was attach to exploded out, revealing a Tyranid Guard with a human riding her.

"Fahstah, aftah thaht trousah staylin waench!"

Catchyougenetheifmakeyouwatch

>Hopefully the planet would become saner after the takeover.

============================================================

>Day 35 of Invasion

>The Tyranid invasion had progressed to the city of Warrnambool, one of the last defensive position on the occupied continent.

>It held bridges and tunnels to the mainland, which were currently scheduled for demolition.

>That being said, an evacuation was also taking place, moving the populace back to the proto-hive of Ynedys.

>These operations would tax local PDF and civilian leadership slightly during a time of peace.

>Given that there was an invasion, things were much more stressful.

>The fact that Tyranids had finally stopped their probing attacks and had launched an assault on the urban center complicated matters further.

>A dozen things seemed to go wrong at once.

>Automated guns had suddenly shut down without warning.

>Reports of "infiltrators" and "Traitors" started coming in.

>Sewer hatches had exploded outwards as Gaunts poured up from the depths.

>Lictors suddenly absconded with key personnel in their grasp.

>And the gate were opening under their own power

>Too many things to be happening to be mere coincidence.

>Unfortunately, Guardsmen and PDF soldiers were left dangerously exposed to the Xenos hordes.

>And what civilians were present were suddenly bereft of protection as the 'nids closed in.

"Accelerate the demolition timetable," A major shouted, "Evacuate critical equipment and personnel."

"Sir, what of the civilians?"

"We can't save them all, if they aren't at the evacuation points, they get left behind."

"Understood sir, timetable Delta orders relayed."

"Boy the Emperah!" A technician exclaimed, "Look at the soize of thaem!"

The Major turned his gaze, "Alert the PDF and Guard forces larger strains are now in the vicinity of command."

"Suh, deedn't mayn the creettahs thaemsaelves, those boobs ahh huge!"

>Reports had confirmed that they Tyranids weren't killing and consuming people as they normally would.

>Then again, Tyranids wouldn't normally have feminine forms and insatiable desire to breed.

>Commissars had been hard-pressed to maintain order in the Guard and PDF.

>Some troopers actually wandered into Tyranid territory, and any senior personnel who executed deserters were marked.

>The Major had seen the gruesome fates of those who had...they hadn't been killed quickly.

>Then the Major saw where the camera was, and what it was looking at.

"Carnifexes approaching the compound, engage them."

"Sir, automatic defenses just went offline!"

"What is going on?"

>The doors to the room suddenly opened, causing a few to look at who was entering.

>In the dim light, she looked almost human.

>Almost.

>her eyes were noticeably large, and she had a pair of scything talons on extra limbs.

"Hiya!"

>With that, the girl threw a belt of flash-bangs into the room, and ducked down the hallway.

>Moments after the thunder and light had subsided, Tyranids flooded the room.

___________________________________________________________________________________

>On the outer perimeter of the base, a Guardsman was doing his best not to panic.

>Everyone else at his posting was incapacitated from the Xenos foul weaponry.

>His stubber's barrel was glowing, his flack armor dented from hits, and big E was nowhere to be found.

>Well, to be fair, he was fairly certain the Emperor was watching, and utterly confused as to what was going on.

>The whole situation was like some semi-heretical explicit vid some deviant cooked up.

>Xenos were not supposed to be attractive, let alone sexy.

"Stupid sexy Xenos."

>There was another explosion from below, the squad's demolitionist having set up traps on the first floor.

>It was probably the only thing keeping the position from being overrun.

>Tossing a now jammed stubber to the ground, the Guardsman swore and reached for another weapon.

>Grasping a lasgun, he felt odd tremors passing through the ground, growing stronger.

>His face paled, and he looked for a bigger weapon, just as something collided with the building.

>Two massive talons punched through the wall, before a good chunk of it was removed.

>Scrambling away from the new ingress and coughing on dust, the Guardsman lunged for the missile launcher.

>A torso-sized hand came down on his back, grasping him and halting him just out of reach of his goal.

>The Guardsman tried to pull himself forwards, clawing at the floor and nearby weapons.

>Sadly, the hand had lifted him off the ground, leaving them to lie just out of reach.

>One of his squad-mates tried to help, but he managed only to fall forward drunkenly.

>Then he was outside, and face-to-face with the grinning maw of a Canifex.

>The creatures were 4.5 meters tall, and supposedly had a mass of 8-9 tons.

>Its...her snout pressed under his chin, and the beast inhaled long and deep though her nostrils.

>Almost with a satisfied sigh, she exhaled through the vents on her back, rumbling in excitement.

"MINE."

>And with that, the Carnifex kissed him, or give its interpretation of one. Generous interpretation.

>The Carnifex jammed her rather length tongue into the Guardsman's mouth, rumbling softly.

>For his part, he did his best not to choke on the hot, slimy, metallic and slightly sweet thing invading his mouth.

>The Carnifex pushed further, making his eyes roll back as it slithered deep into his throat, still wriggling.

>When darkness began to creep into the Guardsman's vision along with spots, the kiss mercifully ended.

*shluck*

>Coughing and gagging, the Guardsman felt his heart skip a beat when the Carnifex tore off the front of his pants.

>Somehow, despite the terrorizing circumstances, he was rock hard...and oddly hot.

>This batch of 'nids seemed tailor made to induce this response in men,

>Suddenly the Carnifex shuddered, and took a deep whiff of his manhood, giving a small shudder

"NOW, WE FUCK."

>The Guardsman was guided down between her legs, her cunt practically drooling worse than her mouth.

>A pair of smaller arms hugged the man tightly to her belly and snatch, and he slid in to the hilt.

>Powerful muscles inside the ridged, hot confines clamped down like a vice and began undulating.

"FUCK, YES, FUCK ME!"

>Outmatched, dazed, and all too hot, the guardsman buried his head into the iron-hard abdominals and started thrusting.

>Shame and pleasure warred in his mind, and the latter began to win out as Tyranid spores began filling the air.

"HARDER LITTLE MAN!"

>The Carnifex sank to her knees, massive scything talon embedding in the street.

>So close, so close, her breath came in rapid pants.

>Finally, the human groaned out as he climaxed, and her own slammed into her.

>Plates in her throat produced a roaring scream as her fluids soaked a better part of his torso.

>For a minute, they just stayed put, panting and basking each-others warmth and the afterglow.

>Then the Carnifex stood up, reaching into the Hive-mind for further orders.

>Her lower arms gently pumped the human in and out, she wouldn't be done anytime soon.

>But there were likely humans in areas her smaller kin couldn't bust into.

>The Guardsman whined as her lady bits continued milking him for all they were worth, more to break his resistance.

>Soon, every human in this city would be making a Tyranid lady very happy.

>Not yet, but soon.

____________________________________________________________________________

>In a different part of the city, another Carnifex was prowling the streets, looking for a target.

>Feedback from the Hive-mind was trickling in as more and more of her kin found mates.

>There was the occasional flash of pain and despair, followed by sulking as mortal shells of others were destroyed.

>Once their biomass had been returned to a digestion pool, they could be reborn.

>Unfortunately for the Carnifex in question, most of the occupants of the city were being claimed.

>Most of the PDF had been overrun by the smaller breeds, along with the Guard.

>She stomped around a corner, spotting a squad of Guardsmen with one of the pointy hat men watching them.

>Most of the time, the pointy-hats would kill their kin for running away, for some insane cruel reason.

>This one was different, urging his men to fall back, strange, but he was nice looking.

>She'd take him, freeing the poor men he was keeping prisoner, and getting herself a mate.

>He'd be shown the error of his ways.

>Sadly, before she could cover the remainder of the distance between her and the squad, a Lictor landed among them.

>Long limbs knocked Guardsmen around, weapons were smashed, and the Commissar was snatched up.

>Seconds later, a tide of Guants swarmed the remaining men.

>She grunted in frustration, legs quivering slightly as another synapse creature came in the distance.

>Unlike the smaller variants of Tyranid, she couldn't simply rush humans and more or less tackle them.

>They were all terribly fragile and timid things in comparison to her, this was hardwired into every Tyranid on the planet.

>Lost in her thoughts, the Carnifex plodded down a street leading to the coastline, where the bridge was.

>The humans had blown it a short time ago, leaving those in the city behind, to fend for themselves.

>Was it really that easy for such disconnected creatures to abandon their kin?

>The sounds of a scuffle caused her to halt suddenly, as her senses zeroed in on it.

>Coming to an intersection, she spotted a ragged human fighting off a pair of Gaunts with a length of metal.

>He was covered in small injuries, dirty, thin, and obviously tired.

>That did little to deter him as he caved in the head of a Guant however, he possessed unnatural ferocity.

>After he'd killed the second Guant, he noticed her, stepping backward slightly.

>She stepped forwards, chuckling as she approached.

"LITTLE LITTLE MAN."

>His first swing caught her hand, but she had no trouble scooping him up, and taking his little bar away.

>Even then he did not stop fighting, his knuckles becoming blooded as he punched her repeatedly.

"YOU ARE MINE NOW, NO GOOD TO FIGHT THIS."

*whack*

>Pausing with the human before her face, the Carnifex did her best not to snarl as something beat on her ankle.

>If some Guant though it could guilt her into giving over the male she was going to squash it.

>She didn't care if a Warrior or even a Hive Tyrant gave her a lecture for it, the little things were...

>Were....

>...

_________________________________________________________________________________

>Be Anon

>Be in a Tyranid infested city on your last legs.

>Then you saw HER, a giant Tyranid monster with proportionately large breasts.

>You'd figured this was the end of the road, and did your best to keep the things attention.

>Then, your little brother Nito, who was supposed to be HIDING, had started hitting it with a pipe.

>And now he had the monstrosity’s full and undivided attention.

"I won't let you eat him, I won't!"

>You'd tell him to run, if you could get air into your lungs with the Tyranid's massive hand squeezing you.

>She'd frozen, not even breathing, as she stared down at your younger brother.

>Spots were starting to dance in your vision, as your mind came up with horrible fates for whatever awaited him.

>The Tyranid rapidly inhaled, her grip easing, before she began doing a little dance in the street.

"EEEEEEEEEEEE!"

>She squealed, and with deceptive gentleness, used her scythe arms to pluck Nito off the street.

>Upon bringing him to eye level, she leaned forward and began to nuzzle him softly.

"YOU ARE SO SMOL."

>Your brain is oxygen deprived, it's the only way any of this makes sense.

"Ack, brother, she gonna eat me!"

>Her grip loosens enough to let you breathe again, as though she'd completely forgotten about you.

"Nito," You shout, "I told you to hide in the mph-"

>The Xenos had silenced you by jamming your face into one of the massive boobs, jamming a nipple in your mouth.

>Warm, sweet, and viscous fluid begins flowing into your mouth as you try to gain breathing room.

"I think he's a little old for that."

>By the Throne, your brother wasn't going to be eaten, far worse...he was going to be corrupted.

>He'd be mentally scared by what this beast planed on doing to you, or exposing him to.

>Growling, you glare at the thing, communicating as best you could to the Tyranid what would happen if it got any funny ideas.

>She barely noticed you, instead utterly enthralled with your younger brother.

>Upon looking your way, she paused, and seemed to get the message.

>That only leaves the odd question as to what all of the chirping noises are...by the Emperor...

>That's a lot of Xenos, there are Tyranids everywhere in a circle around the three of you.

>All of them are looking at your brother and cooing...have they never seen a child before?

>One of the smaller ones hops forward, only for the one holding you to punt it clear over the crowd.

>Growling with the appropriate menace for a creature of her stature, the Tyranid holds Nito with her other hand, scythes raised and twitching

"NO! YOU CAN'T HAVE THEM!"

"Can't have two, can't have two." A bunch of winged ones chant.

>You're exhausted, aching, and just recently you were squeezed and smothered.

>You have a warm meal in your stomach and most importantly, Nito is in safe hands.

>You'll wake back up when the world starts making sense again.

_______________________________________________________________

>Meanwhile...near Tyranid beachhead.

"Drive them back!"

>Guardsmen eagerly obeyed Commissar Wolfe's orders, unleashing hell into the scouting force of Tyranids.

>He'd come here with General Powerstache to get an idea of what the front was like.

>At least, that was what the General had said, he'd been giggling to himself a lot lately.

"General sir," A guardsman began before balking suddenly, "S-sir? What is the meaning of this?"

>Wolfe turned to see the General, a few servitors lugging crates, and a Magos Biologis.

>The General was wearing his greatcoat, medals, boots, and naught else.

>He was also holding a saber length dildo that was buzzing rather ominously.

"Glad you asked Guardsman," He said, twirling his mustache with his free hand, "I'm here to oversee a weapons test."

"Sir?"

>Wolfe was trying his best to make sense of what was going on, but the ground exploded in front of their position.

>Tyranids began exit the hole dug by a Ravener, and were being leg by a Tyranid Warrior.

"Well now, that simplifies things," He snarled, "The leader is mine, everyone else grab a power dildo and follow me in."

>Those not firing desperately at the advancing Xenos stared at their commander slack-jawed.

>General Powerstache advanced to the lip of the trench and pointed his...weapon at the Warrior.

"What Ho foul Xenos!"

>It was hard to say who was more surprised by what happened next, the Guardsmen or the Tyranids.

>He cleared a ten meter gap in a single bound, driving the Tyranid Warrior onto her back.

>The power dildo was inserted into the proper opening, causing the Warrior to screech and nearby Tyranids to stumble.

"Fascinating," The Magos said.

>One of the Guardsmen shrugged, went over to the crate the servitors had brought, and armed himself.

>With a scream, he lifted the power dildo overhead, and charged into enemy lines.

>Wolfe could only stare as the Tyranid assault staled, and was routed, with men equipped with a bunch of vibrating phallus-es.

>He briefly considered eating his own bolt pistol to escape this madness.

"I have seen much in service to the Emperor, but this...this takes the cake."

==============================================================

Day 42 of invasion

>Be Lt. Darius Rupert of the PDF

>Be evacuating another supply depot as Feminids advance across the planet

>Suffer surprise attack from Genestealers , hybrid infiltrators, but they were dealt with swiftly.

>Now you're trying to get as much ammunition loaded onto the cargo shuttles as possible asap.

>And to top it all off, a local noble was trying to get someone to evacuate him and his valuables.

>Matthias Ward the 13th was inbred as they came and resembled a squig in a suit.

>He was rumored bedfellow to the late Colonel Amelia Astor Emeline Annabele Adele Sambridge

>You had no desire to find out. All you wanted to do was escape to a fortified position.

>Marching over to the mostly intact Salamander, you asked your subordinates for a sit-rep.

"Sir, major enemy force twenty minutes away."

"How did they get so close?"

"Trygons and Raveners have been digging tunnels all over the place sir."

"Additional reports of traitorous elements and Genestealer cults providing mechanized transport."

>Wonderful...how long had the Genestealers been here to begin with, and how did they avoid detection for so long?

"Sir, Baron Ward wants an ETA on transport of himself and his collection."

>Looking at the Comms officer, you deiced to indulge the slightly heretical and sensible part of your brain.

"Inform the Baron that due to misfiled paperwork from the Administratum, authorization cannot be granted for...6 months and nine days."

>The Comms officer does, while you grab a dataslate containing inventory, trying to find the most valuable items to load.

"We might last about twenty-five minutes against this assault..."

"Sir, Baron Ward states that is unacceptable-"

"Then tell the fat bastard to pack a suitcase an get over here, we leave in twenty-four minutes."

>You begin barking orders for the withdraw, desperate to deny the Xenos anything of value

__________________________________________________________________________

"HE SAID WHAT! HE DARES!"

>The ostentatious Ward Estate trembled under duress, mostly because of the upcoming attack.

>The other portion was provided by the spherical wobbling mass of angry nobility screaming in his quarters.

>His servants did their best not to flinch, enduring a storm of swears and spittle.

>The baron would be loading up his private shuttle, but a cultist had made off with it.

>His collection of 1/6 scale Astartes models, his life's work, were stuck here with him.

>After a few more minutes of swearing, he stopped abruptly and stood, going to where his tech-priest was working on a special project.

>Administratum misfiled paperwork, he was about to misplace a monstrous misplacement of his own.

>The Lt. would rue the day he defied Matthias Ward the Thirteenth!

>Entering the side chamber, he looked at the pod that had come in on a bulk freighter a few years back.

>Upon it were emblazoned two very noticeable things, the first being the Officio Assasinourm's Seal.

>The other thing was the words, "Eversor XXX"

>Someone, somewhere, had well and truly fucked up.

"Tech-priest, tell the assassin to target Lt. Anon, and eliminate any Tyranids in the area!"

"As you wish, so shall it be done."

>The Tech-Priest would do his best, but the nature of the subject within the stasis capsule made things tricky.

>Said Tech-Priest had a bit too much confidence in his own skills, doubly so to those who knew what he was messing with.

>After a moment, the tech-priest had finished uploading the commands, and de-activated containment.

>90 seconds later, the room was thoroughly coated in gore, oil, and scraps of armor and weapons.

>XXX heaved great gulps of air, twitching as drugs pumped into his bloodstream.

>He'd eliminated the people who dared to co-opt an Officio Asset, and thought themselves of higher standing than the Office.

>They had been successful in implanting their target however, PDF Lieutenant Darius Rupert, his location, and what was to be done.

>Grunting, XXX tore the oversize syringe from his arm, cursing the Ultramarine cosplay Ogryn.

>Grox Breeding Hormone...a full fifty cc's...explained why he felt so hot, and his synthskin suit so tight in the crotch.

>Gripping his bolt pistol, the Assassin streaked down the halls of the mansion, gutting any unfortunate between him and the exit.

>XXX didn't bother with doors, he created new ones in walls as he sped toward his target.

________________________________________________________________________

>The Hive Tyrant snarled under her breath as yet another probing strike was thwarted

>She'd been sent to lead an attack on this supply depot, preventing the defenders escape, taking as many as possible.

>Her infiltrators had been identified by a Lt. before they could do any major damage to the guardsmen.

>Their Captain was out of commission, sure, but the Lt. had rallied his men and set up a line of defense.

>He'd even thwarted the efforts of a Ravener brood and several Lictors...impressive for a human.

>Still, this would make taking the humans alive a touch more difficult, they were organized.

>Worse, her scouts, living or otherwise, found the defenses to be well manned and planned.

>Removing that lieutenant took priority...and she had just the...individual...in mind.

{{Prepare the Dimachaeron}}

>The Hive Tyrant rumbled as she marched toward the human positions, her forces moving as she directed.

>Biovores expelled spore mines toward their target to soften it up and provide cover for the advance.

>Inside a dedicated transport creature, the Dimachaeron began to stir from bio-stasis.

____________________________________________________________________

>Things, for once, are going well, which means that everything is going to go sideways any second now.

>The Tyranids had run into prepared kill-zones and small minefields, though the bulk of their formation hadn't arrived.

>Another spore mine slammed into the ground, releasing a pink haze that Guard and PDF came to dread.

>Anyone who inhaled it would start moving as though heavily drunk, and reported a surge in libido.

>Thankfully, the supply depot had plenty of masks, heavy weapons, and explosives in stock.

>That and a few of the power dildos had been shipped to your unit, and led to a surprising tactic.

>Tyranid Synapse creatures were isolated and pinned down, before/during/after inserting one.

>While probably heretical, any Tyranid in a short radius felt it too, preventing them from fighting.

>There was a roar as another pair of craft left ground, a Valkyrie and a supply shuttle.

>Casualties were starting to mount, those who could were being moved to the evac point.

>Other had been taken by the Tyranids, dragged into the hordes kicking and screaming.

>And the last fallback action had gone well, in another five minutes, all aircraft would be off the ground.

"What the frak is that!"

"Shoot it! Shoot it!"

"It's tearing through us!"

>Ah, the other boot just dropped, now you just needed to figure out what in the name of the Emperor had hit the line.

"West flank, start pulling back, I don't want those Tyranids to overrun the landing pads."

"Not Tyranids, some skull faced fraker is ripping apart everything in his path!"

>Not Tyranids...well, that's not good.

"Sir, what are your orders?"

"Begin final fallback maneuvers and board the shuttles, try and cover the west flank."

>You give a short salute, grab your bolt pistol and saber, before heading to the west flank.

>Your about halfway there when Tyranid fire starts peppering your position.

>A pack of Gaunts seems to have broken the line, and they look all to happy to see you.

>You hadn't been slacking off in your weapons drills, and you put three of the things down.

>Problem was, there were nine of them left and they were starting to try flanking you.

>Something human-shaped, black, and incredibly angry slams into them from the left.

>Bowlingpins.wav

>Seconds later, all but one of the Guants is dead, and is being violently violated by the thing.

>There's no small feeling of dread when you recognize just what hit the West Flank

>An Eversor Assassin, and it looks a little too happy to see you.

>Dropping the now catatonic Guant, it points at you, before making a slitting throat motion.

>Somehow, you can hear that blubbering Baron Laughing from here.

"WRYYYYY!"

>Yo back up while firing your bolt pistol, mentally writing up your will and testament.

>Suddenly, you trip on the edge of a drainage trench, falling backwards as the Assassin leaps at you.

"SKREEEEE!"

>Something thunders up, casting a shadow over you, before the Eversor is yanked from overhead.

>Landing in the water unharmed, you stand upright and turn to see what the frak that was.

>There was a very large Tyranid, slightly larger than a Carnifex, and with what looks like doubled up Lictor arms.

>You waste no time in scrambling out of the trench, grabbing the creature's attention.

>Suddenly, Its rib-cage opens up, as the Eversor forces its way out in a grotesque parody of birth.

>Tearing your eyes from the damned thing, you run between a pair of containers, back towards the landing pads.

>The Eversor starts screaming, and the sound drops off rapidly, the 'nid probably having thrown him.

>Already you can hear the thing stomping towards you, smashing containers aside.

>Weapons fire and Tyranid screeching are the backdrop to snarling and sundering metal.

>Glancing at your wrist chrono, you see you have 90 seconds to get to a Valkyrie.

>Your foot slips in a random patch of oil, just a pair of massive talons strike a few meters away.

>The 'nid is perched on the tops of the containers, claws snapping at you like a pair of tongs.

>You put two bolts in it, before it yanks the gun from your hands, tossing it aside.

>It grips your boot, hoisting you several feet off the ground, chest maw flexing open as it laughs.

"WRYYYYY!"

>The Eversor landed on the claws, slime-coated and a little battered, but no less murderous.

>You manage to free yourself from your boot with panic induced kicking, landing hard on your shoulder.

>There is a lot of screaming, but you just focus on running as though a daemon is on your heels.

>The Assassin is flung into the side of a container with enough force to dent it, but is up in seconds

>The Tyranid is assailed with toxin and brutal slashes, but it isn't even phased.

>Somehow, the dueling killing machines are always one step behind you, and you manage to reach the landing pads.

>Craft are already starting to take off, and the gateway slams shut behind you cutting off most of the screaming.

>You sprint with everything you have left to the nearest Valkyrie

______________________________________________________________________________

>The Dimacheron had had enough of her latest, and by far most persistent and stubborn, Assailant.

>Her target had escaped, and would likely be airborne in moments.

>The skull faced creature, for no human could take that level of punishment, seemed equal parts irate and erect.

>Well, if the wannabe wanted to fuck with her, she Would FUCK HIM!

>Her lengthy upper limbs slammed the feisty little shit to the ground, pinning his arms to the solid surface below.

>Drooling lower lips engulf his throbbing dick, before she slammed down.

>Every time he started thrashing, she'd apply just a little more force, he was sturdy enough to take it.

>He might have been unmatched in terms of ferocity, but he'd been merely modified.

>SHE, on the other hand, had been designed with DNA filtered through numerous battles.

>It would only be a matter of time before he succumbed to her relentless mating instincts.

>The roaring of numerous engines barely drowned out his cry as he exploded within her.

>His thrashing lessened, and she knew for certain a few more ought to teach him where he belonged.

___________________________________________________________________________

>The Valkyrie was lifting skywards when the gates at the far end of the pads were smashed open.

"Lt. Hive Tyrant!"

>You looked out the rear door of the drop-ship to behold a monstrous intelligence.

>Tyranids poured through the gap, but towering above them were a pair of Hive Guards, and the Tyrant herself.

"Orders sir?"

>On the one hand, killing her would devastate the local 'nids, but a Warrior brood with venom cannons...

"Do not engage, just get us out of here. We can't risk it."

"Aye sir."

>Before the ramp closes, you could swear she was looking at you with a hungry grin.

>Adrenaline wears off, and you begin to laugh and cry at the same time.

>You're alive, and your pelvis isn't being ground into paste.

"Praise the Emperor."

__________________________________________________________________________

>An hour later...

>The Hive Tyrant looked at the scene before her, utterly amazed as how one little thing could do so much damage.

>The discovery of Servitors had been shocking enough, but this thing was in a league of its own.

>Currently, it was immobilized by bio-resin and sporting a cracked pelvis at best, and a very flaccid member.

>A Venomthrope and Zoanthrope attended it, keeping it sedated and calm respectively.

>Not far from them was the slightly emaciated, very exhausted, and very satisfied Dimacheron.

>Another Venomthrope attending her to neutralize toxins, and a Tyrant Guard permitting the normally violent organism to suckle.

>Shaking her massive head, the Tyrant reached into the Hive-Mind, alerting the others to the threat the Lt. posed.

>Moments later, she was given some interesting information; the good Lt. was related to General Powerstache.

>...He was going to be hers; she would outmaneuver and overpower him through skill of command and force of arms.

=============================================================

Day 48 of Invasion

>Be Anthony Wallace, medical student and overworked essential worker.

>You'd been run ragged over the last few weeks dealing with an influx of refugees and resultant minor injuries.

>Despite the valiant and unusual methods the Guard and the PDF were using, they were losing ground steadily to the Tyranids.

>The saving grace of the 'nids not sending hordes of their own number at them was good.

>The fact that the Xenos were using Imperial Guard tactics and equipment in some cases was alarming.

>For the town of Gambrok, there would be no escape; they'd been encircled days ago.

>For you however, you'd been dealing with far, far worse things than putting people's guts back inside them.

>An involuntary shudder raced down you frame, as you wondered if the Tyranids were even aware of what they were doing?

>By the Emperor, you'd had the misfortune of learning how an undying erection got treated.

>And then there were the other things the Tyranids did to people.

>First, there were the victims of the paralytic quills, and while those were easy to remove, the left noticeable side effects.

>Most notably impaired movement and a flushed face, and perhaps a bit of excessive drooling.

>Thankfully, you just made sure any of the incapacitated soldiers didn't stumble to their deaths before the toxins worked their way out.

>Second were the spore victims, anyone inhaling them felt very hot, very drunk, and very horny.

>Again, you mostly monitored them and kept them from trying to wander off.

>Otherwise they might attempt to molest the medical servitors.

>Several personnel had gotten covered in bio-resin, which oddly enough dissolved upon contact with human saliva.

>In developing a solution to this, the Magos convinced you that he was outright mad.

>And finally, you had removed 96 Ripplers from the crotches of Guardsmen, PDF, and idiot teenagers.

>Fortunately, you were able to remove the little buggers without them biting off any important bits.

>Unfortunately, earlier in the morning, the lines had fallen, and Tyranids were moving from street to street.

>Now everyone was scrambling for shelter and weapons, or seeking one last moment of peace.

>The Tyranids didn't kill humans, mostly, but if one was threatening or had killed his fellow man...

>It seemed the only thing the Tyranids wanted was to...fornicate with any guy they came across.

>You ducked under a fallen beam blocking the street, gazing at the corpse of a flying Tyranid.

>It was massive, having smashed though a building on its way down, and oozed out across the street.

>All around the town, battle sounded off again and again, as the Tyranids advanced.

>The streets were empty, mostly because everyone was hiding, or flying Tyranids had picked off everyone.

>It had been tempting to wait for the inevitable back at the clinic, but you figured you could hide down in one of the old sewer pipes.

>You've done so in the past, there were few, if any mutants to speak of, and you knew an out of the way place...

>There was shouting and gunfire up ahead, and the screeching chittering of Tyranids.

>You stopped short, before ducking down an alleyway to escape the fighting, laspistol raised.

>Your legs ached from all the running, and you cursed your lack of foresight by waiting for the next transport.

>There had been fighting just down the street when the men guarding the place said that you'd best run.

>Bracing yourself, you exited the far end of the alleyway, and emerged into a combat zone.

"Keeps firing!"

>The red strobe and cracks of las-fire contrasted with the firing of Tyranid weaponry.

>You had to flatten yourself against a wall as the foot of a Sentinel walker stomped down before you.

>Heat from the multi-las firing cause you to shrink back, but not before one of the soldiers noticed you.

"Get down civilian!"

"Shit, I knew we lost the outer line, how far in are they?"

"Lines are collapsing backwards, you have a gas-mask right?"

>You nod, pulling it out.

"Good, put it on, we're heading to the Arbites' Headquarters, don't need another person going down ."

>Right, apparently he doesn't know you lack major medical experience, but given how bad things are...

>The multi-las is probably the only thing keeping the Guants from pouring up the street as the squad begins to withdraw

>Then something slams down into the middle of the squad, before unfurling.

"Rippler Ball!"

>At those words, several of the small toothy critters wriggle forth faster than one would think.

>The Guardsmen do their best to shoot the small things, before they can attach themselves in a very vulnerable spot.

>You stomp on the closest one, feeling its body give and crack slightly under your boot.

>Several of the Guardsmen also are successful at shooting the little buggers, a few are not.

"AGH! HELP!"

"Not Again, ho."

>Something large and fleshy lands further back in the street, pouring out an immense amount of spores.

>The pink fog wasn't lethal, but it did obscure vision and gradually incapacitate anyone who breathed it too long.

"Grenades out!"

>Explosions tor up the street, and everyone pulled back, save for one man who was trying to free his junk.

>The Sentinel sprayed las-fire into the smoke, walking backwards, paying little attention.

>Massive metal feet stomp all too close to you, as you begin retreating from the makeshift barricade.

"Auspex Contact! Large Xenos specimen approaching!"

>There is a lashing sound, like heavy flesh whips, and a half dozen tendrils are wrapped about the sentinel's raised leg.

>It tries to aim at whatever is holding it, but more suddenly strike the multi-las with enough force to bend it.

"Move!"

>With a groan, the walker falls over, legs kicking as it is dragged back into a thickening wall of fog.

>Metal squeals and screeches as you and the rest of the Guardsmen run like hell.

"Emperor's mercy, they're tearing open the hatch!"

>The doomed machine and its crew is left behind, as your small group begins firing back.

"The frak was that?"

>You weren't sure, but hopefully you never found out.

>It was a running gun battle in low visibility while wearing a gas-mask, in a fair world, the 'nid would have it just as bad.

>Life wasn't fair however

>The Tyranids were never affected by their own toxins.

>They were without number, and hey adapted to everything.

>A small flock of Gargoyles swooped down on the squad, carrying several of them off.

>Then the large thing following you though the smoke grabbed another two, yanking them back.

>At this point, you just ran, stumbling through the streets heading deeper into the city

>You could hear the thumps of whatever was perusing you, but the fog was too thick to see through

>The city was getting bombarded with spore mines, and the sounds of battle were dying down.

>Suddenly, someone collides with you, sending you both sprawling to the ground.

>The laspistol clatters away, and you do your best to untangle yourself from the man.

"We need to run."

"More Tyranids?"

"No, the priest, he's gone mad."

"I assure you my sons, that I am most certainly sane."

>Ordinarily, that tone of voice would have been a bit too insistent for your tastes.

>Not so today, as you beheld the priest the man was running from.

>The faithful servant of the Ecclesiarchy is wearing a smile, and holding a flamer.

>Never a good combination, under any circumstances.

"Father, please, think about what you're doing."

>It's hard to read his expression through a gas-mask, but you have no doubt he's cracked.

"I am saving souls from eternal damnation at the hands of the foul Xenos child, I do what must be done.

>You've gotten half the sleep you need and have been worked to the bone helping inured.

>Despite all this, you figure you can try reasoning with the man.

"Listen to me, you should be helping your fellow man in their time of need, not burning them."

>HE levels the flamer at you, the pilot light stuttering in the thick fog.

"Tis the only way I can save you, may the Emperor forgive me for what I must do, and may your suffering come to an end."

*fwip*

>The flamer jerks suddenly, as a pale, fleshy tentacle wraps about it.

*fwip* *Fwip*

>The priest is lifted off the ground, struggling against whatever is holding him.

"Now now, that's not a very nice thing to do."

"Unhand me foul beast!"

>His mask is ripped off by another tentacle, his face red and eyes wide with panic.

"Oh sure, hold your breath, you'll need to breathe eventually."

>The fog has cleared enough to reveal the particular Tyranid, nearly the size of a Chimera,

>It was if the 'nids had decided they didn't have something with enough tentacles.

>She had a dozen arm tentacles, twice as many around her mouth, and the biggest pair of breasts you'd ever seen.

>There's the whine of a laspistol, followed by the unoccupied arm full of tentacles lashing at the other man.

>A second later, he's as tied up as the priest, fully immobilized and exposed to the spores.

"Seems I will need to give you both an injection to keep you calm."

>Each of her tentacles has a sharp tip, which she jabs into them for a moment.

>After a few seconds, they go limp, and are laid down on the street carefully.

"Well now, with that out of the way, I have a question for you cutie."

>WHAT?

"What?"

"Ready for your massage~"

>Oh no, you do not like where this is going.

>A moment later her tentacles are all over you, the whip-like appendages wrapping about your body and limbs.

>Your struggling could best be described as pointless, each of the tentacles is steely mucsle in a thin package.

>That, and there are a dozen of them, rubbing and squeezing your body prety much everywhere.

"My my," She croons "Whatever have you been doing? You have so many knots. So tense."

>Well, not everywhere, she seems to be avoiding your crotch for the moment.

>Still, her "massage" feels good, not that you have any experience with such a luxury.

"Most of the girls wouldn't hesitate to pounce on you without so much as getting your name, let alone consent."

>You'd reply, but you were a little preoccupied with all the squeezing along your legs and feet.

>Wait, What?

>Now that you're paying attention again, she's slipped off your boots and socks with her motions.

>Your clothing is also being slowly sliced up by the little blades at the ends of her appendage.

>That, and feels like the filter's clogged on your gas-mask...she's producing a cloud of those damned spores.

"Now, I think you silly little mask isn't working, if your thrashing is anything to go by...let's see that cute face."

>Before you can protest, the mask has been neatly sliced off your face, which comes under immediate assault by caressing tentacles.

"You are sooo cute~. What's your name?"

"Wallace,"

>Already a few breaths in and the spores are doing their work, you feel drunk, you feel good, you feel hot.

>There really wasn't much you could do anyhow, and the Tyranid was polite enough to not obliterate your pelvis on sight.

"Aww...that's adorable. All you need to know about me, is that I am yours. All you have to do~oo...is ask."

>Its obvious what she is referring to, she's stripped you down to your boxers

>She could physically force herself on you like the rest of the 'nids, but she doesn't have to.

>It would be as easy as injecting Tyranid brand aphrodisiac into your bloodstream and you'd be all over her.

>Your dick is so hard it hurts, everything feels hot, and she is nice....smells nice...

"Please"

"Don't try holding back, just relax. Resisting won't help you, you're already mi~ne."

>Her mouth tentacles descend on your junk, causing you to lurch.

>Every nerve in your body is played like the strings of an instrument, and she has mastered it.

>By the time you regain some semblance of coherency, you're resting against her immense skull as she gently hums.

>You're limp as a wet noodle, and a nap is fully in order, not like you can do anything else.

"SOMEONE HELP!"

>The frak?

>You shift and spot a Guardsman doubled over almost, hands trembling around his crotch.

"IT WON'T STOP SUCKING, IT HURTS!"

"Nurse," you slur, "I need some supplies."

"Oh don't worry, I'll handle this."

___________________________________________________________________________

>Be Commissar Wolfe

>Be at a command meeting in Hive Sydney.

>Be witness to many acts insane and heretical, and somehow actually working.

>Be nursing a cup of recaff as General Powerstache goes over defense plans.

>Suddenly, the General lurches forward, his mustache bristling.

"What's happening?"

>General Powerstache stares out into the distance for a moment while his facial hair makes alarming twitches.

"The penultimate battle approaches, may the Emperor protect us all."

================================================================

Day 69 of Invasion

>To say the planet of Australias hung on the edge...well...that would be a lie.

>The Tyranids had control of most of the planet, almost all resistance had been subdued.

>Now, only the Hive of Haarlock's Wager (Joseph Haarlock Sucks at Cards) was putting up any decent fight

>Other population centers were being ignored at this point, having little to no strategic value.

>Given that General Powerstache was defending it, well, it was in good hands as any.

>Though his plans were about as complex as his extended family tree, they worked.

>In these circumstances, it was only a matter of time before the defenses began to fail, and the 'nids swarmed inside.

>At this point, it was all a matter of spite, the planet wasn't really worth much, just a penal colony.

>With the Fall of Cadia, and the rampant incompetence of the sub-sector Governor, help would not be coming.

>The Astropathic Choir reported full warp shadow, so they couldn't get a message out if they tried.

>Given that the Hive city was under siege for over 2 weeks by Tyranids, it would be an impressive feat.

>That is, if the 'nids weren't handicapping themselves, they weren't spamming the defenses like normal 'nids.

>They bombarded the city constantly with a variety of biological munitions, destroyed defense emplacements.

>However, they dare not repeat their initial assault on the hive walls, lest they enter range of a very heretical measure.

>A good number of captured Tyranid synapse creatures were spaced out along the inner portion of the Curtain walls.

>Upon approach, the power dildos the 'nids were hooked up to wen into overdrive, incapacitating any approaching 'nids.

>The general lead several offensive thrusts to keep the 'nids from overwhelming the remaining defenses.

>Today was no different, as a wedge of Leman Russ tanks and Hellhounds moved along the outer trenches.

>Near the front of the formation was Rupert's Salamander, his upper body sticking out of the hatch.

>A few Tyranid groups were scattered about the various craters in No-man's-land, but nothing major.

>Rupert's facial hair suddenly bristled, a viscous grin forming below it.

"Seize the moment, a Hive Tyrant is nearby"

>The Vanquisher tank rumbled forwards, Wolfe scanning the area with the storm bolter and augmentic eye.

>The 'nids were crawling all over the place, the probing assaults on the edges of the hive city had ended yesterday.

>There wasn't a giant leader among them however, a few warriors moving forward in cover of trenches, sure.

>Idly, he gunned down one that had exposed itself a moment too long.

>Which begged the question of where the Hive Tyrant really was?

>Then the ground 200 meters out burst open and caved inwards, three Trygons roaring in triumph.

>They were backed by a Ravener brood and a small swarm of 'nids, right before the armored spearhead.

>Defensive batteries and spotter on the curtain wall of the Hive quickly zeroed in the location.

>Through the cloud of dust and spores marched several Tyrant Guards, and a Hive Tyrant.

"A magnificent specimen, don’t you agree Wolfe?"

>The Commissar for his part didn't bat an eye, he was a little too used to the insanity now.

>That should have worried him, but instead, he sized up the distant target, before making a query.

"You admire the...horror General?

"Indeed, her head will go nicely in my Trophy Collection...Aim low."

>Wolfe smirked slightly, glad that his General still has his sensibilities...even if he was...eccentric.

"Load Turbo Penetrator men...target the Hive Tyrant...aim low.

>The gunner grinned, bringing the Vanquisher cannon to bear as requested, before firing.

>A rocket boosted shell tore from the barrel, cutting across the gap in an instant it seemed.

>For a moment, it seemed the Xenos' psychic barrier would remain intact, before it shattered.

>Commissar Wolfe snorted, hammering away at targets with the storm bolter.

"Not that low Gunner, target the Tyranofex on the right, high explosive!"

_____________________________________________________________________________________

>Be Lt. Darius Rupert, distant cousin of General Powerstache

>Be guarding one of the few open gates leading into the hive.

>Battlefield casualties are high, but deaths are almost non-existent, for the first time in ever.

>The 'nids really wanted the D apparently, and more than a few men didn't seem to mind this.

>The Hive gangers who volunteered to help guard the gates seemed a little eager to face the Tyranids.

>Apparently, a shortage of Commissars made people speak their minds a touch too much.

"Oi, Bossman, this is tower."

"Go ahead tower."

"Since when did the Ultramarines get here?"

>There were Ultramarines here? Surely word would have gotten out about the Angels of Death.

"Tower, Elaborate."

"Well, looks like a bunch of Rhinos with Ultramarine colors and symbols on 'em."

"Hail them."

>Standard procedure was to inspect every incoming vehicle in the prepared kill-zone of the gates

>This prevented the 'nids from sneaking inside with the help of collaborators or Genestealer hybrids.

>The "defense" grid that the General had assembled from captured synapse creatures was fairly short range.

>Did not stop the Tyranids from firing long range weaponry at the remaining defenses.

"Boss, I couldn't get anything out of the Smurfs, but I was able to get word from the cargo trucks behind them."

"What did they say?"

"Said that the Marines cleared the path, and that they're carrying refugees."

>Something didn't add up, the Astartes' arrival would be a momentous occasion, not a secret.

>That, and they would have arrived at the Hive's star-port if they had armor...not the Tyranid Zones.

>You give orders to prepare to stop the oncoming transports for inspection.

>Sadly, the first Rhino decides to start hosing your position with bolt rounds.

"Close the gate."

>At that moment, a Krak missile flies forth and hits the control tower, leaving it a blazing wreck.

>The Rhinos come to a stop when they smash into the barricades, plowing the road open.

>Then the "Marines" pile out. screaming about their Spiritual Liege.

"Hostile Ogryn at the gatehouse, somebody close the bloody doors."

>As you duck behind cover from the wild spray of heavy weapons fire, you curse under your breath,

>Apparently, Baron Matthias Ward the 13th wasn't just content with sicking an Eversor on you.

>The doors slowly began to close, as the growling of engines came closer.

>Suddenly, the convoy of cargo trucks had arrived, and were speeding through the gate.

"Someone track those trucks down, and alert all forces inside the Hive, perimeter has been breached!"

>You managed to plink a few las-bolts into the back of the vehicles, but too little too late.

>By the time anyone found the trucks, they would be empty of whatever was in them.

>In the meantime, you had more pressing issues to attend.

______________________________________________________________________

>The Tyranids had managed to surprise the Armored spearhead, and a fearsome battle ensued.

>Rupert for his part faced another Hive Tyrant and her Guards, all of them leering at him.

"Xenos filth! Come to me now!"

"Oh, trust me General, it will be you who cums to me."

>Ruppert's face went pinkish and his mustache gave a violent spasm.

>HE closed the distance rapidly, cutting down several Guants, hamstringing a Guard.

>His backup power dildo was jammed firmly into the folds of the second Guard, putting it out of commission.

>It was only then that he began his duel with the Tyrant.

"Take a good look men, this is how I deal with Xenos...as well as traitors...and cowards....all much the same to me really."

>The Hive Tyrant chuckled.

"How? Jamming a metal phallus into them?"

>He opened his mouth, paused, sidestepped a thrust from her bone-sword and jabbed at her wrist.

"Must you make everything perverted Xenos? Do you derive a sick pleasure in doing so?"

>The two leader continued their duel as both sides did battle around them

>As it began to drag into the five minute mark with no signs of stopping, the Hive Tyrant ground her teeth in frustration.

>This was an old man she was fighting, admittedly one that had stolen her heart, but by the Norn Queen!

>How did he have his much energy and mobility? This much stamina?

>She was going to be testing that latter attribute out in great detail later...

>Her focus slipped, and she put a bit too much force behind her next strike.

>With a whistle, the bone-sword thrust forward with tremendous speed, sinking into the ground.

>The Generals' head jerked and he staggered, as though he'd been struck.

>For a moment, the Hive tyrant froze, thinking she'd injured her future mate.

>General Cornelius Rupert felt at his upper lip with a trembling hand, feeling nothing but smooth skin.

>A few meters away, a very familiar chunk of facial hair lay in the mud.

>She all but fell to her knees in relief, before becoming confused at a rapidly darkening sky.

>A growl from her beloved opponent(and soon to be mate), sent chills running down her rather lengthy spine.

>His expression was one of absolute fury, and his eyes glowed with a crimson light.

"I have underestimated you! No more. I will end the blasphemy of your existence here and now!"

>Huffing, the Hive Tyrant swung a bone-sword, intending to knock the man off his feet and end his rant

*clang*

>Ruppert declined dodging, halting the force of the blade entirely, before forcing it in the direction from which it came.

>He then lunged, forcing the Hive Tyrant to backpedal, taken off guard by his sudden strength.

>The power-sword became a blur, parrying and blocking the four organic blades repeatedly

>Soon, the Hive Tyrant found herself on the defensive, having to devote considerable focus on her opponent.

>Perhaps, she'd made a rather serious error in her plan to seduce him.

________________________________________________________________________________

>The Astropathic Choir was resting inside their tower deep within the hive.

>They were tired, having gotten little sleep due to the influence of the Hive-Mind

>The constant sensation of chittering voices and numerous claws touched their minds.

>That, and a ravenous sexual hunger that never quite seemed to abate, and worse, began affecting them.

>Being an Astropath, and thereby a psyker by extension, made relationships a little difficult.

>This resulted in a room full of pent up, sleep deprived individuals who desperately wanted some alone time.

>Unfortunately, they were to be kept under heavy guard in the Psychically shielded room until...whenever.

"Ahg, I can't take this anymore! When will this end?"

"Calm down, we either drive off the 'nids or we get out minds fraked out of us."

>One of their number was close to the door, which is why he paid attention to it rather than the ensuing argument.

>There was a series of muffled thumps and cries, and then silence, followed by the clanking of locking mechanisms.

>The doors opened, and everyone in the chamber felt their hair stand on end, and a crawling sensation run up their spines.

>Several Tyranid Zoanthropes filed into the chamber, grinning madly

{{Allow us to introduce ourselves}}

>Several floors up, arcane mechanisms activated, as the "Bonding" commenced.

_____________________________________________________________________________

>After half an hour of sustained fighting, the Hive Tyrant fell to the ground panting.

Innumerable, but slowly regenerating wounds criss-crossed her body and limbs.

>General Cornelius Rupert stood over her, his greatcoat reduced to tatters.

"You were strong, but strength is no match for intelligence and resolve."

>For a moment, there was silence, then she began to laugh.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure of that."

>General Powerstache looked confused for several seconds, before the hair on the back of his neck stood

>From the Astopathic spire, there was a flash of pinkish lightening.

>Everyone within 10km felt a sudden surge of heat in their loins.

>There was a sudden surge of pleasure, and everyone went over the peak

>Rupert spasmed as his loins erupted, his eyes rolling back up into his head.

>He collapsed not far from a panting, and very satisfied Hive Tyrant.

"Ahhhggg, How can this be the end? I've commanded men for a century, Achieved so much glory...not like this."

"Oh please," She huffed, "Don't be....so...dramatic."

"I cannot live with this shame."

"Oh...you'll survive..."

>She presented her sizable ass to him, a hand reaching back and spreading her cheeks.

"Tell you what, best two out of three, whoever cums first loses."

"I shall...claim victory...in the name...of...The EMPEROR!"

______________________________________________________________________________

>Be Lt Darius Rupert of the Imperial guard.

>Mere moments ago you were fighting for your life against a squad of Ogryn.

>Then some manner of warp fuckery happened, and you came so hard your vision went white for a moment.

>Fortunately, it would seem that your attackers were also not immune to whatever happened.

>Unfortunately, it seemed that every Tyranid on the damned planet was heading to your location.

>That, and several confused Ogryn were now looking at you.

>You barely manage to duck back into cover as high caliber rounds and insults.

>There is then the sound of numerous weapons running dry, and something large stomping in your direction.

"Oi, Waz Dat?"

>You peer over your cover and spot a Hive Tyrant barreling down on the Ogryn's position.

>A group of Ultramarines that size would have wiped the floor with her.

>She turns them into mincemeat.

>You then have her full and complete, undivided attention.

"Well now," She croons, "Just the man I was looking for."

"Me?"

>With a flourish she planted all four blades into the ground,before spreading her arms wide.

>Clear fluid is leaking from her lower lips in copious amounts.

>You can barely keep the Las-gun level, your body shaking from...well, everything.

"Aww, your defiance is just adorable, but we both know how this ends."

>She had a valid point, and the las-gun drops to your side.

"Is it too much to take me out for dinner first?"

>At this, she turns into a stuttering nervous wreck for all of ten seconds before you laugh.

>She scoops you up a moment later, glaring at you as hr boobs spill around your shoulders.

"Oh trust me Lieutenant, I'll be educating you on how to respect a superior for a week."

"Can't," You mumble, "Emperor know's there's going to be meetings."

>The glare holds for a second before she gives you a kiss with lots of tongue.

{{Oh that won't save you. You're mine now, and I intend to savor you tonight}}

{{Willing or not}}

==========================================================================

420 Days after Invasion...

>The cruiser exiting the warp near the Austrailas System would normally be considered a little odd.

>The fact that it bore the heraldry of the Ordo Xenos and Inquisition would be downright alarming.

>For those aboard the Cruiser, the situation they were investigating was bizarre to the extreme.

>About a year back, the Administratum and Deparmento Munitorum ad noticed an oddity in the tithes

>A Feral world, Austrailas, had begun shipping in some form of liquid ration in large quantities.

>These rations were a blend of sugars and proteins, easy to consume, and long lasting.

>A more in-depth analysis by a Magos Biologis had revealed the presence of Tyranid Enzymes.

>This was cause for alarm, and investigation by the Ordo Xenos, who dispatched a relatively unpopular individual to deal with the situation.

>Backtracking it to a backwater sub-sector, he'd learned there had been a warp-shadow presence, which had faded away

>For over a year, the sub-sector Governor had sat on a report of a Tyranid invasion on a bio-mass rich Feral world.

>Said sub-sector Governor was executed for a slew of charges, along with the planetary Governor and a few unfortunates.

>Thankfully, the Inquisitor's superiors had the foresight to prevent him from declaring Exterminatus, Calato thought

>The Dark Angel had left his chapter to serve among Deathwatch centuries ago, leaving all their nonsense with them

"Hey, Calato, what'cha doing?"

"Fixing recaff for the Inquisitor, like I've always done for him, since he can't get a butler to do it."

>The Space Wolf leaned against the wall, arms crossed, chuckling at his companion

"Beats being near his quarters listening to him rant and rave, does he even sleep anymore?"

"With how much recaff he's been drinking Lynius, I doubt it, though why he was reinstated is beyond me."

>Heavy thumps heralded the arrival of two more Deathwatch Marines, an Apothecary and Rune Priest "Ah, Wilford, Volund, all we need is Cyrus and it'll be just like old times."

>Suddenly, a door opened, and out staggered a very twitchy Inquisitor, muttering at a frightening pace

>Wordlessly, Calato passed him the mug

*minecraft sipping noise*

>The now empty mug was returned as Inquisitor Kryptman sat at the briefing table

"Alright, I am slightly better now, though, that is not saying much."

"Inquisitor Kryptman, shouldn't you be resting?"

"I would, if I could get some sleep, but the thought of what awaits us...what horrors have been unleashed..."

"I could give you something for that, valarium root should ease your mind."

"The offer is appreciated Apothecary, but I must not show weakness at this time. Especially as we are now entering the Austrailas system, where Tyranid activity is suspected."

>Lynius shifted, looking at his boss

"So these are the guys who cried Tyranids are invading, then said everything was fine, and are now exporting some Tyranid Bio-whatsit as part of their annual tithe?"

>Wilford grunted, before holding up one of the aforementioned liquid rations

"This is a combination of proteins and carbohydrates in liquid form the likes of which I have never seen before."

>Calato groaned

"What is so special about it again? I'm sure that the Imperium can make something like that easily."

>The Apothecary's head turned sharply

"And yet few of them come close to this. I was able to finally figure out what the purpose of the Tyranid enzymes are for. While the substance does take care of all nutritional requirements, if the person drinking it has been under prolonged physical stress, say combat for example, it promotes rapid regeneration and growth in all major areas in the body. Bones, organs musculature, I've never seen anything quite like it."

Lyn "Big whoop," Lynius said, rolling his eyes, "Probably just makes us easier to digest."

Wil "Actually, there is one side effect that I'm not entirely sure what to make of."

"Explain," Kryptman asked, no longer twitching, and swaying slightly.

Wil "It seems to promote growth in the genitals...I'm not sure why."

Lyn "Well, if that's the case," *clunk clunk*swipe*pop*succc-c-c-c*"Huh, this shit's pretty tasty."

Inq "Did you...just drink...the....heresy?"...*thunk*

Cal "And down he goes, about time really."

Vol "What vile trickery is this?"

Cal "Relax Volund, I just gave him decaffeinated recaff...I call it Decaff for short."

Wil "Interesting, might be a market for that, if the Administratum would permit it. Volund, have you picked up on any warp shadows?"

Vol "Yes, I can feel them along the systems edges, the warp is less turbulent as well....strange."

Lyn "So they're hiding like our new squad mate?"

Wil "Darius is preparing the shuttle for deployment, I'll fill him in on the details. You mentioned something strange Volund?"

Vol "The light of the Astronomican feels as though distorted through a lens...as though something has brought it into focus."

Cal "Well, we'll save that for when we actually reach the planet...I'm going to return Kryptman to his quarters."

Lyn "You do realize Kryptman s going to be fucken pissed, right?"

_____________________________________________________________________________________

"I feel amazing"

>Five Astartes looked at the Inquisitor, their expressions hidden behind their helmets

>Kryptman was actually happy, which told them that things were bound to go terribly planet-side

>Calato shifted slightly, looking at the deployment ramp, wondering what they would encounter

"Landing zone sighted, touchdown in 30 seconds."

>Daruis marched towards the front, leveling his heavy bolter, while Wllford shook his head at the Lamenter

"Relax, we have a reception waiting for us, not hostiles."

"Given my Chapter's luck, I don't want to risk it."

>The Deathwatch Squad nodded in agreement as the lander touched down on the pad

"Hey, Calato, on a scale of one to Scattor, how do you think this one will go?"

"Seven at worse, just because I'll need to book another session with the mind cleanser."

>Darius gave Willford a questioning look, which got him the answer "poo golems"

>The hatch opened and the tropical air of Australias washed in, the party stepping out

> Two groups of nervous and sweating guardsmen awaited them

"I understand that you are Deathwatch, but the Apothecary is right, relax, I am sure everything will be fine."

>The Inquisitor looked back at the marines, who had stopped suddenly and were staring beyond him

"Greetings, Inquisitor Kryptman."

>Kryptman turned his head back around to...bytheemperor...

>A pair of smooth, pale breasts the size of his head were at eye level, straining the Commissar's coat

"My apologies Lady Commissar, but you should see a quartermaster. You are almost...out of uniform."

"I appreciate the complement, I find this helps keep the men focused on important matters."

>There was the clacking of bolt rounds being chambered

"Inquisitor Kryptman, that's not a Commissar, that's a Lictor....with boobs."

"...I'd still hit that."

>Kryptman looked up at the tentacled face of the...the...the...

>He'd frozen, and started doing an odd jerky twitch

"Darius, guard the shuttle, we're going to get some answers."

>With that, the Dark Angel picked up his very ridged superior and started marching towards the Starport's terminal

>The Lamenter could easily hear Lynius pestering the Lictor with questions, even from a few dozen yards

"So, why are you a Commissar exactly...I'd think you make for a better scout or assassin?"

"The men tend to behave themselves if their superior could be anywhere and unseen, it puts the surprise in surprise inspection."

"Huh, makes sense..."

>Marching around the perimeter of the lander, Darius did what every Devastator would upon setting up a position

>Identify his lines of fire, and the possible routes to his position the enemy would use to advance

>It only took five minutes, and then he settled into his short patrols of the area...waiting for the Inquisitor to give further instructions

_____________________________________________________________________________________

...One Week later...

>Kryptman closed the door to his quarters, shuffled over to his bed, fell face first on it, and screamed

>Upon meeting General Rupert and Hive Tyrant Elizabeth, the truth had come out...it was

>This was probably the REASON Exterminatus existed...this planet had heresy everywhere

>And yet, at the same time, his collection of Xenos anatomy for personal private research had never been this full

>Humans and Xenos were supposed to kill each other, that made perfect sense, but no, here, the openly consorted.

>Never before had emotions run so rampant all he could do was stand there and twitch in frustrated outrage

>The source of the liquid rations was actually Tyranid breast milk of all things...

>He'd IMMEDIATELY ordered the Deathwatch to spread out and document ever, single, bit of Heresy they could find.

>Volund had stumbled across the Church of his Radiant and Guiding Light, created by Emperor worshiping Tyranids

>The fact that it went by the unofficial name of "Convocation of the Lamp" did little to cool his boiling blood

>The population of humans and Xenos somehow co-existed and went about life as normal as one would expect from such a world

>And the space wolf had disappeared for the better part of a day, returning the next morning in an oddly cheerful mood

>Then, the Hive Tyrant had the audacity, the outragocity, to ask for more men being sent to the planet

>Now the edges of his vision were going dark!

>Oh, wait, breathing, he needed to do that, that was important

>Heaving in great gulps of air, Kryptman sagged against the side of the bed

>How in the Warp was he supposed to write this report?

>This entire situation called for Exterminatus, yet his hands were bound a the souls of men were dammed

>Then he heard a chittering next to him, causing him to look up from his apathetic spiraling rage

"Great, now Ripplers have infested my quarters...one with a very large mustache."

>The Rippler suddenly went ridged and fell over, the facial hair giving a few twitches

"And now it is dead, good I suppose..."

>He trailed off as the mustache Pulled itself off the Rippler's face and "stood" on the floor of his quarters

"What in the name of the Emperor is-aug!"

________________________________________________________________________________

>The doors to the bridge whooshed open half an hour later

"Helmsmen, set a course for the nearest planet being besieged by the foul Greenskins."

>One of the bridge officers stood up, looked at him, and froze

"Inquisitor, are you feeling well?"

"I am fine, but we must leave immediately, is there any planet nearby that meets such criteria?"

"Mordak 3 sir, what are you planning exactly?"

"To take command of the local forces as Inquisitor General, and drive the foul Xenos out. Get us moving, there

is much glory to be won!"

"Sir, was that mustache there before?"

>Kryptman smiled, twirling a finger around one end of said facial hair

"Always has been."