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Fandom Warhammer 40k: The Hungering Swarm

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And as they closed, the tyranid fleet launched boarders, small organic pods with gaunts suspended in amniotic fluids. The fighter escorts took down many, but they could not take down all.

As the Indomitable Valor pummeled through the outer layer of Fafnir's defenses Battlefleet Eydirhad followed closely behind, barraging from various ranges using the fleet's vast array of weapons. Soon enough local Vox channels crackled to life as squadrons of fighters and bombers began to follow in the wake of the Valor's destruction, using the gap in the Tyranid defenses as a beachhead from which to launch surgical strikes from.

Even with the advantage of the Astartes battle-barge Borin knew that there would be casualties- and lots of them. Even know he could see the small flickers of light as voidcraft met their brutal demise in response to terrifying Tyranid bio-weapons.

Even here, in the cold of the void, the sheer horror of their twisted designs remain. May He guide my pilots to safety and aid my bombardiers in reaching their marks.

Still, the squadrons were far off from reaching the first wave of targets. The fleet's combined weaponry on the other hand was not and Lord Admiral Torgar watched with morbid curiosity as one of the Fafnir vessels- a worm-like creature with massive talons and jaws- shrieked in pain as a salvo from a macrocannon tore right through it. On the bridge the image prompted sheers from some of the junior officers, though glares from the more stern and veteran bridge officers silenced any preemptive celebrations.

Tyranids were tough and it'd take more than a single salvo to bring down one of their massive void-faring creatures. Much more.

Just then Vice-Admiral Lestayev, whom was currently overlooking several terminals at the bridge's CIC (Combat Information Center) looked up and cleared her throat. "Sir," she said, gesturing with one hand towards the terminal closest to her. "We appear to have incoming."

Borin nodded and separated himself from the bridge's vision port and returned to his seat at the helm. "Numbers?"

"Hundreds," replied Lestayev.

Borin responded with a grunt and as he did he could see tracers and contrails from the close-protection squadrons as they went ahead to intercept the incoming projectiles. A circular-shaped terminal connected to an advanced set of hull-mounted optics zoomed in on the projectiles, revealing what looked more like some sort of primitive boarding pod. Several junior officers paled but tried to refocus shortly thereafter.

"We're about to be boarded," said Borin. "All vessels brace for impact and prepare to repel boarders NOW!"

The orders were quickly sent out to the entire fleet which also prompted some of the smaller vessels to brake, rotate and position themselves in front of the incoming boarding-pods with their sides exposed. In the case of the Firestorm-class escorts that also meant opening fire with pinpoint laser batteries in an attempt to destroy some of the pods.

Before Borin could relay further orders not one but two Vox channels were established to his fleet within short duration of one another and, as both senders spoke, another terminal screen informed the Lord Admiral that two more friendly fleets had emerged into realspace to reinforce both the planet and his fleet.

"Battlefleet Eydirhad?" He began. "This is Lord Captain Horatius Gruffudd aboard the Indefatigable Might. We have an Order of Adepta Sororitas to usher to the planet's surface, but will be ready to join your assault against the Xenos afterwards."
"Battlefleet Eydirhad. This is Captain Granit, theatre commander of the Adeptus Astarte Chapter Gold Sovereigns. We have answered your call and are approaching with all haste and soon, by the Emperor's Will, we will send these vermin back to oblivion with our broadside cannons."

"Lord Captain Gruffudd and Astartes Captain Granit, this is Lord Admiral Borin Torgar of what currently remains of Battlefleet Eydirhad. Your presence is most welcome, as is any support you can provide. I am currently attempting to engage the Tyranid fleet with the hope of strangling their supply-lines leading planetside- you are more than welcome to aid in this endeavor."

Borin paused as an impact-alarm sounded across the bridge, echoing over the now merged Vox-channel. "Now if you excuse me, I appear to have some uninvited guests to deal with."

The Lord Admiral then glanced over to his Vice-Admiral and nodded.

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Ivan Strig
Viper Dragoons
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"clear path confirmed, permission to begin coil discharge" Strig gunner spoke over the vox, the tank Techpriests letting out a buzz of approval as it applied the correct unguents to the tanks loading mechanism to insure that It loaded a shell pure and true, even the round was blessed with this same oil after all regardless of the questionable nature of the vipers tech, beseeching the machine spirits was simply the correct thing to do, the vanquisher cannon buzzed with a crackle of electricity it's thick barrel containing extra coils that drove the motive force through them. The sentinels of the dragoons tightening Their formation around the 3 russ's infantry closed back toward their chimeras.

"Target in sight, gunner by the will of he back on terra and the motive force, let this shot ring true, FIRE" Strig shouted the gunner pulling the leaver, as the firing mechanism kicked in the shell rocketing down the barrel in a blink of an eye so fast that a shockwave thundered fourth form the gun as irl left the barrel the shell continued its trajectory forward as secondary rocket kicked in much like those rounds used on discount vanquishers propelling the faster and faster and hopefully finding its mark
 
Perched atop his sniping position, he surveyed the land for the targets; synaptic creatures from the Tyrannic hordes. The angular skull-shaped visor fed data streams faster than a human could perceive, perhaps faster than the vaunted Astartes and their genetically enhanced cerebral cortices. The sniper knelt against the rock. Exitus rifle cradled in his arms like a delicate object, handed to him by the Emperor himself. Elias slowed his breathing, awaiting for his opportunity, the data would come from his connection to the Noosphere that Magos Vauss ordained. Until then, his heart beats with incredible slowness, almost as if he was sleeping and dreaming of the information across his goggles.

But once he received the word, it was time to work.

He swung the rifle onto the rock as an impromptu tripod. His eyes shift swiftly. Locating the remainder of the synaptic leaders that were not exterminated from the Magos and Canoness' zealous efforts.

Target No. 1; a zoanthrope hovering its legless, armless, serpentine body with the shear power of its mind alone. Its leathery tongue drooled through jagged teeth as the insectoid mind, housed in an elongated, ridged cranium, launched bolts of psychic might. Target is a Synapse Creature. Target Must Be Neutralized.

Elias' focus was steeled, honed to a power sword's edge, and directed solely at the target. The world faded to the background as Elias pictured the floating tyranid against a canvas of darkness. The augmentics in his brain link the scope, the mask, and his will together. He adjusts the elevation and windage with simply a thought. He closed his finger around the rifle's customized trigger, each Assassin has their tools specified to their preferences. He aims for one tooth on the beast's skull.

Oxygen is siphoned through the mask's filters, the assassin's chest expands, then he contracts, releasing a cool stream of air from his augmented lungs. The bolt ripped. A sound more akin to thunder than anything fired from a rifle. The zooanthrope's cranium exploded into a flower of brain matter, blood, and exoskeleton, followed by a high-pitched whistling.

Aim Small, Miss Small

"Target Splashed." Elias' red gleam flared as if hinting at the satisfaction of his suppressed emotions.

Without time to lose however, he shifted his arms, pointing the rifle's muzzle in another direction before firing again. And again. Taking out two tyranid warriors, they were also synapse creatures, although lesser, still a focal point in the army's strategy. He would move onto targets of higher import soon though, they would meet their fates like the Zooanthrope.

Through his surveillance, he spotted a kill clade in need of assistance. The Vindicare provided without mirth or scorn. Just shots after shots of felling gaunts and warriors who had gotten too close, with his aid, this kill clade may yet survive though that is up to the Emperor's discretion.

He'll need to move from this position soon. The tyranids are relentless and if he poses... Has posed a greater threat, then they'll eliminate him either through a dispatch of their lowliest swarm or bombardment.

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