For the enjoyment of all, I turned our group's session into a book format for storytelling purposes. Please enjoy the storybook version of our campaign journal! Please forgive any mistakes in the fluffy parts, as I am not quite as up-to-speed as I used to be.

-Matt

2 Hours before:

"Give me a data report," ordered Captain Galrite Haltreme, commander of the Sword-class frigate Valiant . A brawny man, he sported a closely-trimmed goatee that revealed his age by showing quite a bit of silver hairs. He wrung his hands on the bridge's railing anxiously.

"Sir, we just entered the Avalos system," said a helmsman. "Scans show nothing but dust and silence, Cap'n." The helmsman fidgeted nervously before adding, "I can't even find sign of normal system traffic."

"Aye, Ensign. I sense something is afoot. Make best speed for Avalos, but do so cautiously. Keep the sensors active."

"Aye aye, sir. Making for Avalos."

***

Brother Octavius was putting the finishing touches on an Oath of the Moment, writing the vows in sweeping calligraphy on a roll of parchment. It was not easy to do in the armored gauntlets of his armor, but he was used to it. He had written many before. He recited the last words of the Oath silently to himself, mouthing the words:

"...and Protect thy Battle Brother,
For we are cut of different thread,
Hailing from a chapter of another,
But we are of the same kindred."

With that, he affixed the parchment to his left shoulder with hot wax, displaying it for all to see. He stepped away from the pedestal, and Brother Skold stepped up to the platform to write his own. Octavius tried not to sneer when he saw the sloppy penmanship of the Space Wolf, messily scrawling an Oath on an identical parchment to the one the Ultramarine had just affixed to his armor.

"I didn't know Space Wolves took Oaths of Moment, Brother Skold?" Octavius inquired, genuinely surprised to see the unshaven warrior mouthing words to a familiar Oath.

"Aye, Son of Guilliman, we take oaths much like you do," the gregarious wolf said, smiling slightly. "Though we be nought but barbarians in your eyes, our roots stretch back as far! We were there during the Great Crusades too, ye know..." There was no malice in Skold's voice and a twinkle in his ice-blue eyes, and Octavius was again surprised by the dark-haired Son of Russ.

"I meant no offense, Brother Skold," Octavius began to say, but Skold put up a halting hand and clapped Octavius on the shoulder before saying, "Make no worry of it, Brother. I just prefer to save my fury for the battlefield. It is wasted amongst Astartes." With that, the Space Wolf turned and moved to his storage unit and began to service his Boltgun, leaving Octavius to his thoughts.

Brother Skold would take some getting used to.

After Brother Skold stepped away from the pedestal, the massive Brother Sepheran moved up and began writing on his own roll of parchment. A Blood Angel, the massive Astartes was uncannily artistic with the calligraphy pen, capturing the attention of Brother Octavius. Though Octavius' penmanship was of textbook quality, the Blood Angel marine made the Ultramarine's Oath look like a child's writing. The Son of Sanguinius embellished the Oath with small but intricate illustrations as he wrote and appeared to exert little effort in the miniature masterpieces he sketched alongside the words. Octavius had heard of the legendary artistry of the Blood Angels, but to see one in action was a special treat. He stood enraptured by the large Astartes for a moment before moving off to prepare his gear.

As they attended to their equipment and finished donning their armor in the Armory, Octavius mentally reviewed the information they had been provided for the mission:

Avalos was primarily an agricultural world designated to provide food for many planets across the sub-sector. Not long ago, a drifting space hulk appeared on the edge of the system. Known habitations to genestealer infestations, the hulk presented a unique threat to the system. Then the disappearances began to happen in the major urban centers on the planet. Immediately a request was sent out for the Inquisition to do an investigation, and since it was suspected to be a genestealer infestation, the Ordos Xenos received the call.

Inquisitor Kalistradi had been dispatched to the planet nearly six months ago now. After spending a few months of secret investigation, she uncovered signs that warranted a Deathwatch response. The exact details were unknown, but she suspected that the main urban center of Lordsholm was infiltrated by the genestealer breed. After receiving her encoded Astropathic message, the Watch-Captain had immediately ordered Octavius and his newly-formed Kill-Team to make utmost speed to Avalos.

This was a serious problem. Octavius had heard rumors and speculation, mainly from the Tyrannic War veterans in his own chapter, about the correlation between a genestealer infestation and imminent Tyranid invasion. It was suspected that genestealers would find a suitable planet, and then call nearby Tyranid fleets to them somehow. If the genestealers were on Avalos, they would need to be dealt with quickly.

When they were all properly prepared, the three Astartes made their way to the bridge of the Valiant. The crew stared at them in awe when they passed, obviously unused to seeing not only one but three of the legendary warriors. When the trio reached the bridge the Captain quickly moved to address them.
"My lords, we attempted to raise Avalos on the Vox-caster naught but a few minutes ago, but received no response. Things may be worse on the surface than we initially thought."

Octavius glanced at his companions. Skold shrugged, and the calculating Sepheran looked as if he had expected as much.

"Captain Haltreme, do you know where the Inquisitor Kalistradi was last located on-planet?" he inquired.

The captain strode to a display screen and pulled up a recent surface scan of the planet before replying, "Not precisely, my lord, but we have her general whereabouts. It seems that she was somewhere in the main urban center of Lordsholm last we know of. I'd look there first before..." he trailed off as a helmsman shouted in alarm.

"Captain! Sensor contacts, bearing on us fast! They read oddly, I think they are organic!"

"Where did they come from?" Haltreme bellowed, striding to the main view screen. The helmsmen tapped some controls and peered into his terminal, before finally stating "I think they came from behind Avalos' Moon, Cap'n. Estimate time to contact as... five minutes or less. They appear to be gaining speed! At least frigate size!"

"Bring up a visual!" The Captain snapped. The helmsman complied, displaying a number of void-born creatures that looked like sea monsters of myth.

"Emperor's blood! Look at the size of those... TEETH!" Captain Haltreme exclaimed, the color draining from his face.

"Captain," Octavius began, placing a reassuring hand on the Captain's shoulder, "We need to get to the surface now. Is a Drop Pod prepped for launch?"
The massive hand broke the Captain's shock. He tore his eyes away from the viewscreen, that was rapidly filling with the terrifying images of the bio-terrors.

"Yes, my lord. I had one prepped after we received no word from the planet... but you had better make haste to the launch bay! I'll try to hold them off long enough for the drop..." The captain trailed off, but a calm resolve began to show in his demeanor. He straightened upright, and turned to his crew and began barking orders.

"Let us go, Brothers," Octavius beckoned, and the Astartes turned and pounded off the bridge, running to reach the launch bay.
"May the Emperor protect you!" the captain shouted at their diminishing forms.

Alarm klaxons began to sound, and the ship began to shudder as it discharged weapons fire from its main batteries. The Astartes shouldered crewman out of the way in the narrow confines of the vessel's corridors as they hastened to their waiting Drop Pod.

In the Launch Bay, technicians were finishing their pre-launch checklists as the trio vaulted the loading ramp. Sepheran was last, lugging the huge bulk of his Heavy Bolter. Stowing their weapons, the three Kill-team members sealed their helmets and buckled into the pod, and the technicians sealed up the doors from the outside.

Octavius switched his vox channel to the Valiant's frequency and informed the Captain they were ready for launch. The trio braced themselves as the countdown commenced.

With a loud rumbling, the pod's engine system engaged, sending them screaming towards the planet's surface below. Captain Haltreme began to scream over the vox as the Tyranid Kraken closed its jaws around the ship, tearing the vessel asunder. His screams echoed in their micro-beads as the deafening rumbling jarred all semblance of sense from them while the pod descended on a pillar of heat and flame.

***

Octavius staggered from the Drop Pod, his enhanced physique the sole reason he survived the trip. His armor was dented, but had suffered no major damage to its vital systems. He pulled his bolter free and peered around in the gloom to locate his teammates. His helmet's autosenses quickly detected the armored form of Sepheran, hoisting his support weapon out of the wreckage.

Brother Skold clapped an armored hand onto Octavius' back as he climbed out of the wreckage himself. Pulling his helmet off, he looked up through the hole in the roof with his enhanced vision. It appeared that they were in an Imperial Chapel. The wreckage of pews and altars littered the wreckage around the smoldering Drop Pod. Water poured from the obliterated remains of the roof, dripping onto their armored forms, as a storm raged in the night.

"Listen..." Brother Skold said. They all listened, and the crackle of gunfire and the rumble of explosions could be heard over the rain.

"Sounds like a battle, but who are the combatants?" Brother Sepheran questioned, raising an eyebrow quizzically.

"Perhaps the infestation is at a stage more advanced than we had predicted," Octavius stated, before navigating through the wreckage and debris towards the chapel's massive doors. The rest of the team fell in behind him, no order needed.

Outside the chapel, a frightened contingent of PDF troopers cowered behind makeshift barricades built from the masonry of the building, burnt out vehicles, and other detritus. They formed a makeshift battleline around the chapel. Beyond the line, a killing ground extended a couple dozen meters, before ending at another line of makshift barriers. Beyond these piles of rubble, a howling mass of humanity seethed. Furious citizens, armed with whatever weapons they could scrounge, scurried in a murderous rage. Shouting obscenities and vulgarities, they would periodically mount an assault on the PDF lines across the killing fields.

Brother Octavius saw an opportunity to instill courage into the frightened PDF troopers. Slapping a fresh magazine into his bolter and readying the mechanism with a loud crack, he strode up behind the demoralized conscripts.

"Do not be fearful, loyal warriors. The Deathwatch has come to aid you!" he bellowed through his helmet's loudspeakers, startling several troopers nearby.

Either too far gone, or perhaps shocked even more greatly by the sudden appearance of a legendary Astartes, the troopers cowered even lower, as if they were trying to disappear into the mud. Fury at their cowardice bubbled up in Octavius, and both he and Brother Skold jumped forward as a group of rebellious citizens began a new assault. Sepheran cut to the side behind them, dashing for a position where his fire support weapon would have a wide field of fire.

Rushing citizens fired simple projectile weapons as they charged, and the rounds bounced harmlessly off the Astartes armor as they met the charge. Planting their feet, both Octavius and Skold flipped their fire selectors to "Full-Auto" and raked the oncoming crowd with explosive projectiles. The rain turned red as the bolt shells ripped through the front ranks of the oncoming horde.

Sepheran braced himself, setting up his heavy bolter on a prefabricated barricade. A scared PDF conscript scrambled to make room for the massive Blood Angel. Sepheran shot him a disdainful look that was obscured by his armor's helmet before cutting loose a roaring fusillade of bolt shells on the remaining survivors of the charge. Amputated limbs and ruined bodies were all that remained when the red mist cleared, and rivulets of blood joined the rainwater in the mud.

Skold let out an approving laugh at the carnage, and cycled another magazine into his bolter.

A second wave was approaching. Octavius and Skold readied themselves, but before they opened fire on the fresh wave, the mass of rebels parted to reveal a solitary figure.

Around seven feet tall and rippling with muscle, the leader of the assault was an exceptional specimen... for a human. He revved a chainsword and stepped forward, staring down the Ultramarine leader of the killteam while the rebel horde jeered their encouragement.

"At least one of them has honor..." Octavius mentioned, stowing his bolter and pulling out his razor-sharp combat knife. Easily the size of a short sword to a non-Astartes, he hoped the formidable blade would be a match for the chainsword the rebel leader wielded.

The two combatants strode towards each other, as the agitated horde looked on with enthusiasm. Skold stowed his bolter as well, wiping water from his face with a smirk. Hopefully the Son of Guilliman wouldn't foul this one up.

Octavius stood in a ready stance, and beckoned the rebel with a single hand gesture. Infuriated, the rebel leader let out a growl and charged, the whirring blades of the chainsword flinging rainwater from the blade. Octavius easily parried the sloppy swing, knocking away the chainsword with a flick of his blade. He countered with a quick jab of the knife, but the rebel was astonishly quick, twisting away nimbly from the strike. The rebel's second swing was more successful, biting into the think shoulder armor on Octavius' right side. Shreds of wet parchment from his Oath of Moment fell to the mud as he again knocked the blade away.

"Enough playing," Brother Skold scoffed, leaping into the fray. Pushing back the Ultramarine, the Son of Russ buried the point of his own combat knife up to the hilt in the chest of the startled rebel. With a blood-choked hiss, the muscular rebel slid to the ground at the feet of the Space Wolf warrior. Octavius shot the Space Wolf an annoyed look that was only just barely concealed by his helmet.

Sepheran broke the stunned silence with a thunderous barrage from his weapon, sending the rebels scattering. The PDF then regained their nerve, firing their las-weapons at the retreating forms of the rebels. As the rebels faded away into the night, their will broken, a PDF infantry Captain approached the trio. Octavius decided to suppress his annoyance as the Captain addressed them.

"Lords, my name is Captain Ascote. Please follow me to the chapel where we may converse privately." With that, he abruptly turned and marched up the chapel steps, expecting the trio to follow.

"A bit insolent, isn't he?" Skold commented.

"I suppose you would know about that, wouldn't you, Son of Russ?" Octavius couldn't help but quip while ascending the stairs after the captain.

The Captain led them inside the chapel and shut the doors behind them. Once out of sight of the rest of the troopers, a ripple ran down the length of his body. His form distorted and shimmered, taking the form of a lithe female, clearly a member of the Callidus Assassin Temple. Both Octavius and Sepheran were lucky in that their helmets hid their shock, but Skold merely raised an eyebrow and said, "I thought he smelled a bit unusual..."

"My lords, blessed be the Emperor you are not too late, it seems my mistress's faith in the Deathwatch was well placed," the assassin began, "Would that she were here to greet you herself, but I fear the xenos have her somewhere in the city, and for several days I have wore the guise of a PDF commander simply to hold these men together so that there might be a place for you to land. My name is Syndalla, at least that is what Kalistradi called me, other than this I will not waste words with pleasantries or formalities, for this city is about to fall..."

END PART 1

"...The genestealers have infected much of the population," Syndalla continued, "and those that remain are badly demoralized and exist only within a few isolated parts of the city like this one. Added to this, I expect the vanguard of the Tyranid fleet to arrive within a matter of days.

"Our only hope is to send a message through the world's astropath before the shadow falls, using your Chapter cyphers, and request reinforcements. This on its own, however, is not enough. Even with aid on the way, I think Lordsholm will fall before dawn. The only way to stop this is to find the Broodlord which spawned this infestation and kill it. I will give you what help I can but I also need to keep the PDF from completely collapsing. I have prepared some details to aid you in your task and will offer what knowledge I have."

Brother Octavius took the dataslate that was offered to him and pulled off his helmet to better see the screen. The slate outlined key locations in the city, and the most recent information available about the situation. It also outlined what Syndalla thought were to be key objectives, foremost on the list being to send an astropathic signal to call for aid.

"Do you have any suspicions where this foul xenos patriarch is hiding?" Skold inquired of the Callidus assassin.

"I do not yet know, lord," she began, "but I suspect he is surely hiding within a rebel-controlled sector. It is impossible to know, as none have been able to penetrate deeply into rebel territory."

"Hmm...." the Blood Angel Devastator Marine hummed, pulling off his helmet to reveal a thoughtful expression. He peered at the dataslate as Octavius handed it to him. He pointed to a district on the city map before saying, "So this is our current location? The chapel in the Portica District?"

"Correct, lord. We are only a few city blocks from the PDF stronghold that is under assault by rebels. The Spaceport is only a little bit beyond that," Syndalla explained.

"How strong is the rebel assault on the stronghold? Will they hold out on their own?" the Ultramarine asked, already formulating a plan before even hearing the answer.

"The rebel assault is quite strong and probably will break the defenders within a matter of hours," the assassin said wearily, "It is getting harder to repel them with each attack. The conscripted troops of the PDF are losing their nerve, while the rebels gain theirs even more with each assault."

"What is this warehouse... here?" Brother Sepheran said as he pointed to a indicated location on the map that PDF troops were attempting to secure.

"That is the main Imperial Stores, filled with weapons and supplies," answered Syndalla, "None of the supplies would be much use to you, lords, but to my men it would provide much-needed ammunition, medical supplies, and heavy weaponry."

"Then that is where we shall go," decided Brother Octavius, "for we shall liberate those supplies to aid the PDF in repelling the rebel assault on their stronghold. The heavy weapons stored in those warehouses will help in setting up a more effective perimeter defense."

"Bah. We'll be missing most of the fighting!" Brother Skold exclaimed, clearly not happy at the prospect.

"It is necessary, Brother. We will return once we have liberated the materials. It is important for the planetary defense force's morale that we only AID them in defeating this assault. If we were to go and defeat the assault ourselves, then the PDF would know that they would be vulnerable to attack as soon as we move on. No, Son of Russ, it is important that they do this for themselves," Octavius said, putting a staying hand on the shoulder of the Space Wolf.

"Ah, I see your logic, Ultramarine. Not quite so glorious for us, but if the troopers need it than I suppose we will not deny them of it," Brother Skold admitted.

"There will plenty of glory for us, Brother Skold," Sepheran joined in, "for once we get close to the Broodlord's lair they will react with vigor, surely."

"Let us stop wasting time then," Octavius said abruptly, locking his helmet back into place, "We don't have much time. Move out, Brothers."

As the other two locked their helmets and hoisted their gear, he turned to Syndalla, who was reassuming her form of the PDF Captain.

"Here is our Vox frequency. Please update us with any information you get. We will stay in contact as best as we can manage."

"Yes, my lord," Captain Ascote, now fully transformed, said in a husky voice.

With that, the Ultramarine followed his team down the chapel steps and into the rain.

The rain pattered down on the armor of the three Astartes as they stealthily observed the movements of two rebel platoons. The rebels had already taken the storage facility, and gunfire could be heard from underground while the last of the PDF tried to hold from inside the facility.

It was obvious they would need to move quickly and get inside before there were no PDF left to save.

"Let us go," Octavius said, cycling a magazine into his bolter. He and Skold bounded forward, sweeping left and right as they ran through piles of debris. Octavius sprinted, trying to make it to the massive steel doors' control panel. The rain obscured most of the pounding footsteps of the Astartes, but Octavius' armor senses could pick up shadowed silhouettes in the rainy night as a platoon patrolled the perimeter and he was concerned that they would be detected.

He ran for the cover of the building, hoping to blend into the shadows of the edifice, but his momentum was too great and he collided into the door with a clang reverberating through his armor. His autosenses detected shouts of alarm and the platoon began to wheel about.

"That was not exactly stealthy, Brother Octavius!" the Space Wolf shouted, tearing off his helmet and throwing it aside. Baring his teeth, Brother Skold positioned himself in between the door and the onrushing platoon.

Sepheran racked his Heavy Bolter's arming mechanism with a loud clack. Bracing himself in the mud, he covered his brothers from the protection of a pile of debris and waited for the horde of rebels to show themselves.

They came in a yelling tide, corrupted by the psychic taint of the Brood, completely unfazed by the sudden appearance of the legendary Adeptus Astartes. Weapons fire crackled as they charged, rippling in a wave as the projectiles washed over Brother Skold. His armor deflected most of the rounds, but a bullet grazed his temple and sent a wash of blood into his eyes before his superior blood clotting ability could manifest.

Octavius let loose a few rounds from his bolter, stepping backwards and feeling for the control panel to the massive doors. The rounds cut down few of the oncoming tide, but did little to reduce their overall numbers.

With a fierce roar, the Son of Russ launched himself into the oncoming tide, quickly trading his bolter for his combat knife. Fleeting rebel forms danced by him, jabbing them with whatever improvised weaponry they could scrounge. The grizzled Astartes struck both left and right repetitively with his blade, severing limbs and cutting arteries with every stroke, but the press of the bodies was just too thick. In an instant, the mob were hurling themselves onto the armored warrior, bearing him down with their weight and jabbing their weapons into any armor joints they could find.

Octavius let loose a barrage from his bolter, careful not to hit his team member but attempting to clear them away from the downed Space Wolf. The explosive rounds tore through the soft flesh of the rebel citizens, raining gore in a macabre drizzle as their lifeless corpses tumbled and fell.

Octavius heard the Blood Angel's Heavy Bolter join its clangorous thunder to that of his own bolter. Whipping above the prostate form of the Space Wolf, the bolts threw rebels from their feet, holes where previously were chest cavities.

The mob broke and dispersed, Octavius putting down stragglers with single shots as the rest fled. Sepheran aided their anxious flight further with stuttering reports from his own weapon. Soon the team was alone in the night with naught but the sound of the rain.

"Brother Skold!" Octavius exclaimed as he rushed to the fallen Astartes' side. Skold was already propping himself up on all fours, blood dripping from his face and neck. His blood's coagulants were already at work though, and a few potentially hazardous cuts were already beginning to clot. He waved the Ultramarine away with a derisive gesture, and angrily clambered to his feet.

"I'm fine, Brother. I just leaped before I looked," he tried to joke, but it came off sounding self-damning. "I'll just have a few more scars than before!"

"Brother Skold, I want you to guard our backs when we go underground..." Brother Octavius began, concerned for the Space Wolf, but Skold cut him off.

"Oh, come off it, Son of Guilliman! I'm barely injured. I'll be better in the close confines of the storage tunnels... leave the Blood Angel to play sentry!" The Son of Russ said heatedly, his pride wounded.

"No arguments, Brother Skold. Need I remind you the price of insubordination? I was appointed team-leader for this mission. You know as well as I do that Brother Sepheran is more than capable at holding his own in close confines. I need you to hold the entrance," Brother Octavius said, letting steel creep into his voice, "I know you are a warrior who needs the song of combat, but I won't have you overextending yourself so early in the fight. We have much more combat ahead of us and I need you at top form."

"Fine, Team-Leader Octavius, but make it quick. I won't wait around forever while you and Brother Sepheran hoard all the glory!" Brother Skold retorted, sauntering off to retrieve his fallen bolter.

Octavius nodded to Sepheran, who had remained quiet during the dispute. Together they entered the underground tunnels without another word.

The hallways down here were barely wide enough for either one of them alone, so they had to travel single-file down the hallway. Sepheran led, carefully ducking slightly so not to scrape the low ceiling with his ammo pack. They crept down the hallways, alert for any noise, when their autosenses began to detect disturbances in a room off the hallway ahead.

Brother Sepheran looked back at Octavius, nodded, approaching the corner of the doorway. He quickly crossed to the other side, aiming his heavy weapon into the room, and braced against the corner while Octavius ducked into the room.

A large platoon of rebels were rifling through boxes of supplies, pulling out choice pieces and squabbling amongst themselves for possession of valued prizes. In the poorly-light room, they didn't even notice the Space Marines enter. They all froze when they heard the clacks of the arming mechanisms in Sepheran's heavy bolter and Octavius' bolter.

Sprays of bolter shells sent the suprised insurgents fleeing for the cover of crates stacked high that were scattered about the room. They quickly recovered, sending a torrent of small-arms fire rippling along the armor of the exposed Ultramarine and tearing chunks from the concrete walls around him. Octavius let his armor deflect the rounds, not flinching even when a bullet ricocheted from the temple of his helmet. He simply gritted his teeth. Octavius kept his finger depressed on the trigger, sighting in on targets whenever they presented themselves.

Crates splintered and sundered under the explosive rounds of the Astartes, and the gore of rebels caught by the projectiles flew about the room in a grisly display of violence. Soon, none of the rebels still stood and lay dead or dying. With a smirk concealed in his helmet, Sepheran stepped from behind the cover of the doorjam and into the room. The two Astartes looked at each other and nodded approvingly. They both snapped their heads around, however, when the rebel general lead his platoon in a charge from the halls behind them.

Dropping their guns and pulling their knives, the two Deathwatch Marines whirled to face the attacker.

Garbed in bloodstained carapace the color of dried blood and rippling with hardened muscle, the general literally frothed from the mouth, his mind totally dominated by the will of the genestealer brood. He held in his hands a potent-looking powersword that cackled with the energy of a deadly energy. Having taken the Marines by surprise with his wild charge, the general cackled as he brought his sword above his head for a fearsome strike...

... and stuck the blade in the ceiling. The power field surrounding the weapon became bound, locking the weapon and keeping the strike from falling for just a fraction of a second.

That was all the Astartes needed.

Slashing the general across his exposed throat, Octavius was covered in a spray of blood that erupted from the xenos-influenced officer's esophagus. The officer gagged and staggered, dropping his weapon. Sepheran stepped up, and with a two-fisted plunge, penetrated the armor covering the chest of the general. The weapon was buried up to the hilt, impaling the general from the top of his chest and exiting his lower back. He sagged limply, held aloft by the grip Sepheran held on his combat knife.

Sepheran kicked the general's corpse from his blade with a fearsome shove with his booted heel. The lifeless body flew back into the hallway, knocking down several troopers that had been following the rebel general into the fight.

The shocked rebels looked down at their fallen leader and abruptly threw down their weapons. They held their hands aloft in sign of surrender.

"Brother, based on the behavior we've seen from the rebels thus far, I believe it would be in our best interests to eliminate these traitors," Sepheran reasoned, his heavy bolter trained on the line of prisoners the Astartes had lined against a wall.

"I agree, Brother Sepheran," started Octavius, but he held aloft a staying hand. "However, that would not be honorable. Traitors or no, these citizens are likely only acting this way because of the influence of the Broodlord's psychic presence. After we eliminate the genestealer's patriarch, some of these civilians may return to normal. I believe we should turn them over to the PDF forces until after we resolve the infestation."

With his head turned to Sepheran, Octavius almost didn't see the blur of motion in his peripheral vision. His helmeted head snapped around just in time to see the genestealer, hidden amongst the prisoners, bat aside a rebel with enough force to launch him across the room. As the four-armed creature leaped at him with its claws arched and a bestial scream ripping from an alien throat, Octavius threw himself backwards. He caught the genestealer's torso with his armored legs and vaulted the creature over him before using the momentum to roll back onto his feet.

The xenos offspring scrabbled at the concrete floors with its multiple limbs and scoured deep scars into it. Finding its purchase, it again jumped to its feet. It again charged the Ultramarine, twisting away from the rounds fired from the heavy bolter wielded by Brother Sepheran.

This time, the Son of Guilliman was ready for the beast. He let loose a fully-automatic fusillade at point-blank range that tore through the thick chitinous armor of the beast. It staggered, but recovered quickly.

Ducking another salvo, it again tackled Octavius. His bolter skidded away on the concrete while the creature straddled his torso. With a savage scream of fury, it began to rip at his armor with claws sharper than any blade Octavius had ever seen. His armor rent and tore, the claws tearing into the comparably soft flesh beneath. The pain was immense, but Octavius shoved it from his mind. He pulled his combat knife and plunged it into the exposed neck of the xenos where the chitin was weak with a fluid strike before collapsing into unconsciousness.

The alien gurgled out a garbled scream, fluorescent blood spurting from the hilt of the knife as the Ultramarine twisted the blade in the wound. Its limbs went slack, its bulk collapsing onto the bleeding Team-Leader.

Sepheran threw down his heavy bolter and rushed to his leader's side, flinging the dead carcass off of him.

The large Astartes picked up his companion, quite a feat of strength even for a Space Marine, and whirled around in cold fury to address the horrified prisoners.

"Where are the medical supplies?" he thundered.