Homo sapiens gigantus

~ O ~

A Hormagaunt of Hive Fleet Trinity scuttled quickly through the dark street, its talons held tight to its body. The 'gaunt stopped for a moment, flicking its tongue rapidly around its elongated head. On the air it tasted the chemicals released from burning inorganic materials and cooked organics. It tilted its head and looked left and right. It could taste creatures nearby. A brood of hormagaunts clicked to a stop beside it, forty or more clustered tightly together, heads twisting and tongues flashing.

Light from a nearly fire danced over their white-sand colored carapace, skirted along the ridges of their red spine spikes, and illuminated their large yellow scythe shaped talons.

The lead 'gaunt could taste the food-creatures again. They were pungent, even more so then the creatures it had hunted a few moments ago. Its small, red eyes darted around, hunting for the slightest movement. It couldn't see anything either. These creatures were cunning. The 'gaunt hissed softly in displeasure.

The small tyranid heard a slight noise and snapped its head up. Beady red eyes looked up, piecing the night gloom with ease. Its small brain processed what it saw. It saw a pair of quickly descending boots, each the size of its head.

A boot landed on his torso, the other its neck. The weight behind the boots, and the momentum generated by the long fall from the building, crushed the hormagaunt. Its organs sprayed out in a wave of viscous filth, splashing its nearby brood-kin. A dozen pairs of big boots dropped from the black night, landing amongst the hormagaunts, crushing a dozen or more.

::::

The boots where attached to massive humanoids. Each was ten feet tall, eight feet wide and weighted seven-hundred pounds of rock-hard bone and super dense muscle.

Ogryns.

In the dark, smoke choked street, they roared with anger, raged beyond human comprehension. Barbaric and simple, they stomped and kicked, and fired huge weapons with a fearsome abandon. Their weapons where heavy, blunt ripper guns with huge bayonets attached. The ripper was heavy auto shotgun with a powerful, if short ranged, discharge. Built simply and tough, they were as often used as firearms as heavy object with which to cause a great deal of violent, blunt force trauma.

The Ogryns killed the forty hormagaunts without taking anything worse than a few scratches. Bogar got it the worse by losing an eye to a flailing claw. In return, he was stamped the offending tyranid to paste. Bone'ead Fist roared and kicked him in the backside. Bogar turned and raised his ripper cannon. Fist slapped his ripper aside and punched him in the nose, then roared at him and pointed his arm back towards the Imperial lines.

The squad got moving.

These Ogryns had thick, brown, rhino-like skin which stretched across their wide, blunt faces. Heavy brows draped over dull eyes, and their jutting jaws were topped with sharp canine teeth. Born and bred on the feral world of Maletorr, a world with significantly greater gravity and a punishing environment, they were destined to be monsters. Simple by the measures of the Imperium, Orgyns were often recruited into the Guard because of their great strength, durability, and their child-like belief in the Emperor.

And their directable anger. They were angry, so very angry.

::::

In the Hive Spire high above the stomping Ogryns, the commanders and officers of the Imperial Guard and local Planetary Defense were in thick in debate. Assembled together in the Concilium Magnus, the grand hall at the very peak of the highest spire, though dimly lit the hall was ornate beyond understanding and at complete odds to the death and destruction surrounding the city.

General Tlak, of the Bute 9th Rifles, said, "We can no longer contact with the western cities. They have fallen to the bugs."

There was muttering and low oaths from the assembled men and women.

"That opens up Hive Kut to a two prong assault. Orbital confirmed the advance of a large horde in our direction," he continued.

"What's their status now? Does Orbital have an estimated time of arrival?" Colonel Zanussi asked.

"No," Tlak said, "Orbital assets have taken massive damage and are withdrawing to the edge of the system."

The hall became silent. In the glow of the projector the general said, "Admiral Veck has given us five hours to get as many troopers to the starport as possible. We're leaving this planet. Landers are already shifting troops. Anyone not there, will be left."

An officer at the back of the room coughed softly, "Excuse me, General."

The general turned and frowned, "Yes, Colonel Glass?"

"I do believe orders from Segmentum Command were to defend the planet … to the last, they said."

There was some awkward shifting and looking away from the other officers.

"Colonel, I know the orders. However, we have a responsibility to remain a viable fighting force. The war against the Tyranids will not end here. With the Navy pulling out, the tens of the thousands of guardsmen and PDF, not to mention the millions of civilians on this planet are doomed. This planet has lost its fight…"

"What!" roared Governor Veselvic, "How dare you!"

"Shut up!" the general yelled in reply. Spit flow directly into Veselvic's face. "Shut up, you stupid fug-face! If you hadn't been a complete fug-stain, we wouldn't be here right now!"

Glass stepped forward, "Regardless. Orders are orders, isn't that right, Commissar SanCale?"

A grim-faced commissar lurking at the dark fringes of the hall growled in agreement.

General Tlak grunted and said, "My orders are that we retire to the starport. Get your regiments organized to evac the planet. And governor, if you're not there, I wouldn't lose much sleep."

"Sir …" the colonel started to say.

"No, Glass, no," Tlak pointed his finger at the colonel, "Not another word."

"But sir!"

"Dammit Glass! Do you value your commission?"

"Not really … do you think I command Ogryn out of choice?" There was a strange silent after he said that. Few of the officers present truly understood what took to lead the barbaric abhumans. None wanted to find out first hand.

Glass sighed, "I'll do it."

The general growled, "Do what?"

"The bug's vanguard has already breach the hive's perimeter, so if you're going to get any serious numbers off planet you'll need a rearguard." He walked up the holo-table and stared for a long moment. "Here, at Spigs Fort. I'll take the Maletorr Auxiliary and hold the fort. It will act as a blocking force from the main bug attack coming from the south. Also, if there is anything we know about the Tyranid is that they will react to the present of such large group in their way. It'll draw forces away from elsewhere in the hive. That should make getting to the starport easier for you."

"That's suicide!" screamed the Governor

"Suicide either way, if you ask me."

"What?"

"Stay here and die … or flee the planet and be shot as cowards," Glass shrugged.

"Shut your mouth about cowardice! We are not running away, we are extracting our resources for future battles," roared General Tlak.

The colonel snorted, "If you say so … SanCale?"

The commissar stepped forward. Half his face was a horrid mass of burn scars, his ruined mouth chewed on the end of unlit cigar. He pulled it out of his mouth, spat on the holo-table, and glared at Tlak.

"I'll be staying, laddie. Don't you worry about it," he said. "We may only be a thin black line of courage, but me and the other commissars, will be with ya, right to the end."

::::

Heavy with muscles, Fist and the Orgyns waddled as they ran. Out of the shadows leapt a dark figure, bat-like. The Ogryns pulled up sharply, rippers at the ready. Fist held up his namesake, a huge fist.

"Fist, there you are!" shouted the bat-like man and he emerged fully for the shadows. He wore the black stormcoat and peaked cap of a commissar. "We've got to reach Western Street, or we'll get trapped here."

"RIGHT YOU HAVE IT, BOSS!" yelled Fist.

The commissar briefly flinched at the excessive volume. Listening to Fist speak took a lot of getting used to. Ever since he showed the slight spark of intelligence and underwent the Biochemical Ogryn Neural Enhancement (BONE), he was incapable of moderating his voice. He only spoke is shouts, yells, and roars.

The commissar waved his hand and the squad stomped forward into the smoke and alien filled night. Commissar Infa thumped alongside the gigantic abhumans, stopping twice to collect wayward units or lost civilians or to stomp and shoot tyranids.

Most Imperials thought of Ogryns as simple, even stupid creatures. Child-like and all but useless, save for their vast strength and infallible ability to follow orders. By the lofty standards of the Imperial, they were, in fact, very simple and naïve in their understandings of technology, culture, and the God-Emperor. However, to anyone who actually served with them, they soon found that all adult Ogryns possessed a fearsome animal cunning.

As a species they could not have survived on harsh planets with a brutal, tribal lifestyle if they hadn't developed any abilities to survive. They could look and listen, hunt and stalk, kill and murder. They could also raise their own children, albeit with significantly higher infant mortality rates, and become adults without any inference from the great cerebral powers of Mankind, Homo sapiens sapiens imperiallous.

Infa found them amazing and terrifying. They were the zenith of mankind's physical abilities – nearly the size and strength of an Astarte, and with endurance almost without end. They were so fearless and ferocious in battle they were considered little better than Orks.

However, they also represented the shallow end of humanity's mental capacity – they were all but emotionally retarded and mentally they were hardy above that of the primitive hunter-gatherer, and much more violently unrestrained.

Even though 'might makes right' is their basic belief structure, spiritually speaking, they were nearly perfect. They believed the God-Emperor looked over the shoulder, the Mightest them often called Him - He watched their every move, judged their every action. They lived honest lives of brutish, violent toil for fear of shaming themselves in the eyes of the ever watching God-Emperor for Mankind.

Once within sight of Great Western Street Infa voxed their arrival at the lines. He climbed through the main line of resistance, a heavily barricaded street dense with debris and razor wire. The line of twenty ogryns waddled in after him. Once they were all behind the barricades, Infa asked the nearest officer for a status report and he was informed to take his squad of ogryns to the north end of the city. 'Glass's orders,' said the young officer.

Infa followed the streets deep into the outerhives. Eventual he located another squad of orgyns lead by Commissar Ausk. Ausk was tall and ugly, but well respected and liked by the other commissars for her dedication to morale and discipline. She was traveling north as well.

"Ausk!" Infa shouted.

She turned and waved, "Henri, good to see you're still with us."

"The same to you. What's going on? Why are we being ordered away from the line?" he said as they joined up. Their respected squads of abhumans mingled and sized each other up. There was some growling amongst them, tension rose quickly.

One quick look and a loud snap of Ausk's fingers silenced the grumblings.

"Not sure, but SanCale called me personally. Said get my arse to the north, to the old iron works."

"That's what I heard for an officer on my way in."

She shrugged and indicated that they should continue. He nodded and said, "After you."

::::

It took the better part of a day to get all the squads of the Maletorr Auxilia together at the old iron works. Colonel Glass and Commissar SanCale where waited there, hovering around an overturned ore cart, which was now their conference table. As the squad leaders, commissars and officers arrived they were directed to the leader's workshop. There, they were given orders to move out again, to make their way to the old and unused stronghold – Spig's Fort.

A relic of the first days, the stronghold had been held on as a memory, a keep-sake, of the glory days of exploration. A few hundred years earlier when the local mines ran dry, and the city's money dried up, the stronghold had fallen into hard times, becoming derelict and abandoned.

The squads arrived in drips and drabs. The first units set about rebuilding the ruined walls and towers. As more and more units arrived they were put to work clearing the fields around the old fort. Ogryns worked like beasts of burden; slow, ponderous, but without stopping. Nearly a thousand Ogryns eventually gathered at the old fort.

Their combined smell was overwhelming.

Most commanders would have been frustrated by their lack of working speed, but Glass simply watched them as they trudged and toiled for hours without end. No point in rushing them, they were working as fast as their dim minds would allow them.

They were surprised when a sneaking brood of 'gaunts leap out of the rubble surrounding the old fort, but the Ogryn fists and boots put pay to their sneaking ways.

That was the sign Glass had been waiting for. That meant the Nids where nearby. He called a quick conference and dealt out his orders.

"Gentlemen, and Lady," Glass said, nodding to Ausk, "Here is my plan. We hold the outer walls, but leave the main gates open. I want the bugs to try and rush front door, not sneaking through the windows or the attic. We'll have two squads to hold the gateway, Infa and Bay that you two. Everyone else get your Meats pumped up for a fight. 'Cause we'll be having one before we know it."

::::

An hour later, the first wave of Tyranids arrived. It was an insult to the Maletorrians. A small brood of a few hundred white-sand colored hormagaunts and bore-rifle totting termagaunts. The Maletorr Auxilia saw them off with hardly a casualty. They stacked the bodies a hundred meters from the forts gate.

Goga, from Boneh'ead Blak's squad set them alight. He clapped happily as the fire took and the bodies smoked. He blew at the smoke. Blew and blew and blew, until SanCale came out and dragged him back to the fort by his earlobe. When asked what he was doing, Goga answered, 'Blowin' da smoke so the buggies could smell it. Tha' mean more buggies to smash. Smash good!'

As if answering Goga's unorthodox request, the Tyranid Hivemind of Trinity sent a second force, enlarged by a factor of a thousand. When before there was less then one 'nid for each Ogryn, this time they each had a dozen or more. The Maletorrian's were pleased by that prospect.

At the gateway Fist and Brickface held their squads together in a vicious battle that was hand-to-hand for an hour. The Ogryns gave no ground. The squads on the walls over, on the ramparts, in the gatehouse laid down fearsome, if inaccurate, ripper-fire. Not that accuracy mattered much with the vast horde swarming to get into the gateway.

The second attack took its toll on the defenders. Two hundred abhumans lay dead. Sixteen commissars were killed. Including Infa and Bay, who held the gateway with their respective squads until they were killed by flashing claws or digging fleshborers.

SanCale took command of the gateway.

They didn't have to wait long for a third assault. The Hivemind was tired of playing with the humans and sent a horde a million strong.

::::

Fist swung his heavy ripper around, knocking a 'gaunt aside before stamping on his head. Another beast jumped at him and he swung the ripper like a scumball bat, smacking the creature across the head, shattering its skull and knocking it fifty meters through the air. He bayoneted a bio-weapon totting 'gaunt as it attempted to scamper past him.

"DO 'EM BOYS!" he roared, even louder than normal. He unloaded his ripper into the mass of 'gaunts. The huge shotgun rounds dealing horrific damage to the xenos.

SanCale shouted for him, "Fist! Get back in line!"

"RIGHT HAVE YOU BOSS," he said, and then shouted to his squad, "BACK TO DA LINE!" He lumbered back into barricade with 'nids nipping at his heels. He clambered over the debris wall and jumped down beside SanCale. "WHAT'S DA PLAN, BOSS?

SanCale squinted at his volume of his voice. It was even louder than the battle before them. "We've got to hold the barricade," he looked at his chrono, "at least for another hour. Then, then we meet the Emperor."

"NO PROBLEM, BOSS," Fist said, than added a tactical suggestion, "LET ME TO TAKE MY BOYS TO 'EM. WE'LL RUCK 'EM!"

SanCale looked up at the three meter tall death-dealer. His heavy, brutal face was smeared in alien ichors. Fist was smart, at least as Ogryns go. He recognized that the 'nids had clustered around the barricade, but held back their attack, and instead were swarming the nearby walls. A brutal sortie to draw them away from the walls and back to the main gate was just what this fight needed.

"Och, go on lad, not much point in postponing your meetin' with the Emperor," SanCale grinned.

"OY!" Fist yelled at his squad. The volume made SanCale stagger back a step and shake his head. He had heard quieter artillery volleys.

Fist pumped him arm up and down and waved his hand at the 'nids. His Orgyns roared and leapt over the rubble wall and thundered forward in a wave of muscle and fury.

SanCale couldn't help but laugh at their stupid bravery. They were truly fearless.

He laid his boltpistol on the rubble and took aim. A quick moving shadow to his right drew his attention. He glanced over and for a brief second saw two long thin, tongue-like tendrils lance through the air. The wicked hooks on the end speared into SanCale.

He screamed and looked down, blood poured out of his chest, and then he was jerked through the air.

Fist was the first of his squad to leap the wall and when he heard the commissar scream he looked back. He saw the Boss get reeled through the air, and into the waiting claws of a two and half meter, wind-sand colored lictor.

"NO!" he roared and thundered after the commissar.

When SanCale was fully reeled in on the lictor's flesh hook, the giant 'nid took a moment to tear him in half. It cast his top half towards the gate and his lower half into the waiting horde behind it.

Hearing a thunderous roar the lictor looked up and saw a bull-rushing Orgryn. The beast took a quick, small step forward; leading with its enormous back mounted blade-arms. Each chitinous blade impaled the Ogryn, one spear-limb through each of Fist's lungs.

The big abhuman grunted, "OUUUUUU!" as they pierced his torso. Two meters of blood-red bone blade stuck out of his back.

The lictor looked closely at its squiring, captive prey.

Fist hurt. A lot. He hardly ever felt pain before today, and he certainly had never felt pain like he did now. He tried to take a breath, but realized he couldn't. So he didn't.

He looked up from under his heavy brow, straight into the black orb-eyes of the lictor. Not liking the way the Xeno looked at him, Fist grabbed the dangling tentacles of its face and pulled hard. They tore off and filthy fluid slurped out.

The lictor shrilled and shook its head violently. But Fist wasn't finished. He swung his huge fists out to his sides and using the grotesquely powerful muscles across his chest and shoulders, he slammed his fists together on the lictor's head. It's large skull deformed and crumpled and exploded in a shower of blood, fluid and bone.

The lictor collapsed and with it Fist tumbled to the ground. The pain worsened as the creature went through its death-throes, the spear-limbs twitching violently, and grated and shredded his torso.

Once the creature had stopped moving Fist tired to situp, but found himself pinned by the lictor's spear-limbs. He took a moment to break them by punching them repeatedly.

He stood up uneasily and staggered to a knee. He felt sometime bite his arm and did bother looking as he raised his arm up and smashed whatever it was to pulp. Realizing his movement was going to be impaired by the xeno limbs sticking out of him, he took hold of the blade-limbs still embedded in his chest and pulled them out slowly.

Fist let of a truly loud yell.

The big, blood covered orgyn thundered his way back to the barricade, whipping the blade-limbs around him, smashing and slicing tyranids in equal measure. When he reached the barricade he climbed over it painfully. He grunted unhappily when he realized it was abandoned and bugs where overrunning the fort.

A wave of clawing, biting 'nids rushed over the barricade behind him. Not having that, Fist screamed and lashed out in a hurricane of rage and violence.

He would not leave the barricade. That's what the Boss wanted, so that's what he'd do.

::::

Colonel Glass threw himself down, barely escaping the snapped talons of a gargoyle. He rolled onto his back and fired his laspistol at the beast. He hit it in the face and neck. The creature flapped and crashed to the ground. He stood up, weapon ready. He shouted, "Rally! Rally! Rally! Ra …"

He stopped and stumbled to the ground, holding a gloved hand to his neck. Burning pain raced over his neck and skull. He could smell cooking flesh.

He slowly laid down on his side and stared at the brutal battle around him. Laying there he saw a blood and filth covered Bone'ead Fist wield SanCale's boltpistol, blasting away and holding the gateway through sheer bloody-minded violence. Not many 'nids got past him.

Glass smiled until the acid melted into his brain and killed him.

::::

Colonel Glass had done as he promised and diverted the 'nids attention to him. Because of him and his Ogryns, tens of thousands soldiers and civilians managed to flee the planet.

Not that it was much consolation to Glass, or Fist, or SanCale, or any of the commissars or Ogryns of the Maletorr Auxilia. Their bodies were eating by swarming Ripper hordes, their very bio-mass fueling the very forces they had so valiantly fought.

~ fin ~