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Into the Hulk
Chapter 32: Anklebiters

Chapter 32: Anklebiters

You quickly attempt to count the pairs of eyes, then give up when your count clears sixty with no sign of stopping and the sound of fleshy feet slapping on bare metal begins to echo from the far reaches of the feat hall. “Back to the hatch, we hold there!”

Gorlin reactis first, slamming his back to the bulkhead to the left of the hatch, “Wrrgh. What are these foes?” He fires his pistol wildly into the dark, blazing away as fast as he can pull the trigger. Against any other foe, it would be a waste of ammunition. Against the carpet of fang-mouthed things swarming towards your kill-team, he can’t miss. The bolts detonate a mere twelve meters from his weapon, and the corpses are instantly trampled under as their still-living brethren advance.

Hagrdict slides into a crouch on Gorlin’s right, immediately next to the hatch, “Preysense vision shows grots, but there is something wrong about them. They do not shout, nor are there any mature orks among their numbers.” He lets off a burst from his bolter, pushing the swarm back, punishing it for coming so close. They don’t make a sound as they die, their numbers uncaring.

You back up to the bulkhead to the right of the hatch, already reaching for a frag AP grenade. “They act like tyranid rippers! Could they be infested?” You toss the frag over the heads of the first few raks with causal ease. You don’t even need to aim, and it detonates with a spray of shrapnel and gore.

Throwing frag AP grenade: +0% to hit. 2 grenades remaining. Range is short: +10% to hit. Horde is at least magnitude 60: +40% to hit.

Can’t miss: Need <108 on 1d100. Got 0.

Damaging a Horde: weapon damage is 2d10, weapon has Blast 5 characteristic: +5 additional automatic hits (+10d10 damage), weapon damage type is explosive: +1 additional automatic hit. Total damage dice: 14d10. Damage rolled: 69 = 6 potential magnitudes of damage.

Horde possesses the Relentless Trait: all ranged damage is limited to 1 magnitude of damage per attack.

Total damage to Horde: 1 Magnitude.

The grot-things just flow like a wave back into the hole you blasted in their ranks. Inside of moments, you can’t even tell where your frag landed.

Losis stops in the hatchway itself and pulls the trigger on his heavy bolter. The sound of its 1.57 caliber projectiles firing and detonating is the same sound. The swarm is monetarily driven back… but only to flank around his cone of fire. They close the distance implacably, heedless of the bodies that they are trampling. Your throat tightens in concern as you notice more ripper-grots flowing in from cracked vents and shattered pipes. Far more than your fire has hewn from the ranks of the swarm.

“Frrgh. Frak this grox shit. Grots or rippers, we need to kill them faster.” He lets out a rumbling roar and wades into the swarm, laying about with his chainsword. The swarm is so thick about his ankles that he literally can not miss, no matter where he swings. Corpses and bits of corpses fly away from him like spray from an immobile stone.

“Right behind you battle-brother!” Hagrdict slings his bolter and draws his combat-knife. In the hands of a un-enhanced human, it would be a hand-and-a-half longsword, but to Hagrdict it’s just a long dagger. With it, his sabaton-clad boots, and a clenched, gauntleted fist, he makes nearly as much of a dent in the ranks of the ripper-grots as Gorlin.

A corpse lands at your feet, and you get your first good look at the things you are fighting. It ostensibly looks like a grot, but your eyes and autosenses easily pick out the extra ridges on the things head, the excess of sharp teeth in its too-wide mouth. The signs of tyranid infestation and hybridization are unmistakable, and you feel the hatred welling up inside of you. Your bolter snaps to its maglocks at the small of your back and your combat knife is in your hand without a conscious thought. You take two long strides forward and lash out with an armored boot at the nearest ripper-grot,intent on splattering the abominable thing across the deck.

Melee attacking the ripper-grots with a combat knife: +0% to hit. Hatred (Tyranids): +10% to hit. Horde Magnitude is at least 90: +50% to hit.

Can’t miss: Need <104 on 1d100. Got 74.

Damaging a Horde in melee: weapon damage is 1d10+2+Strength Bonus (10). +1 hit for every 20 the target score is beaten by. Result: +1 hits (+1d10+12 damage). Total damage dice: 2d10+24. Damage rolled: 30 = 3 magnitudes of damage.

Total damage to Horde: 3 magnitudes.

You swiftly lose count of the ripper-grots that you crush in your hand, splatter with your boots, or cave into very small pieces with your combat knife. You aren’t making nearly as large of a dent in the swarm as Hagrdict or Gorlin, but you efforts are far more effective than your earlier frag grenade.

From the corner of your eye you see Losis starts to draw his combat knife, then stop and whirl around, facing back through the hatch from whence you came. His heavy bolter comes up, tracking a target you can’t see. “Lictor! Closing Fast!” He doesn’t wait for orders; he just opens up. The stattaco thunder of the heavy bolter is deafening for a moment, but your autosenses pick out the screeching cry of pain/distress of the Lictor. There is an almighty crash from the other side of the hatch and the screech of tearing metal, but Losis come back on the vox a moment later. “Lictor down. Hatch blocked.”

You swat several ripper-grots from your armor, but you know they’re trying for the joints at the aknes and behind your knees. You hear Hagrdict grunt in discomfort over the vox, but he doesn’t stop fighting, and his status light remains green. More ripper-grots pour out of the shadows and corners, almost as fast as you can kill them. You wonder for a moment how many there could possibly be… and how many have already been fed to the digestion pool, their bellies full of orkflesh, to be made into larger, more dangerous tyranid bioforms.

But as fast as the ripper-grots pour into the feast hall, Golin seems to be killing them faster. His black armor is stained a fluorescent, bioluminescent red-orange from grot-ripper ichor, and corpses seem to fly away from his strikes as if thrown by grenade detonations. In the time it takes you to blink thrice, a full third of the swarm in the hall has perished at his hands.

Hagrdict struggles mightily to keep up with Gorlin’s killing pace, but his combat blade just can’t cleave as many ripper-grots apart in a single swing. He still manages to send dozens of bodies flying, leaving arc of ripper-grot ichor splattered over everything and everyone in the general vicinity.

Melee attacking the ripper-grots with a combat knife: +0% to hit. Hatred (Tyranids): +10% to hit. Horde Magnitude is at least 60: +40% to hit.

Failure: Needed <94, got 96.

You pay for your few seconds of inattention by being forces to swat away a ripper-grot that had crawled up your leg to your chest and was attempting to bite your face off. You grab another one for off of your shoulder and slam it to the ground, making a splatter-splash in the steadily deepening puddle of ichor at your feet.

Losis sets his heavy bolter on the ground and detaches its bulky backpack ammo supply. That done, he draws his combat knife and wades into the fray. He does decently, in the few flashes you can see, especially for a young space marine specializing in heavy weapons.

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The ripper-grots surge forward, and you are preoccupied with swatting several leaping foes form the air. Nothing touches you, but all of the other kill-team members grunt in discomfort as they take armor-breaching hits. None of their status light change, but Losis’ does flicker yellow for the briefest instant before turning green again. A few dozen more ripper-grots flow into the halls, but you can sense that they are beginning to trickle off compared to the endless flood of them a few moments ago.

The deck shakes to a large detonation somewhere beyond the far end of the feast hall. Clearly, there is more than just yourself and the tyranids in the fight. Probably the orks, you guess, putting up a last stand. You idly wonder if they will decide to detonate the Rok Breka in one last act of spite, the way an Imperial crew might.

The thinning of the swarm serves to slow the rate at which Gorlin can slay them, but all that means is that it will take him slightly longer to kill his foe. His sword sends one ripper-grot flying past you in two pieces. “Hrgh! Hra! Think you can hurt me? I am the one who kills!”

“Count the bodies later,” Hagrdict grunts, nearly keeping up with Gorlin’s furious killing pace, “for now just kill them!”

“No need to tell me Hagrdict! Suffer not the tyranid to live!” Your vocalised agreement is probably unneeded, but it does serve to focus your team on the task at hand: killing these ripper-grot abominations.

Melee attacking the ripper-grots with a combat knife: +0% to hit. Hatred (Tyranids): +10% to hit. Horde Magnitude is at least 60: +40% to hit.

Success: needed <94, got 26.

Damaging a Horde in melee: weapon damage is 1d10+2+Strength Bonus (10). +1 hit for every 20 the target score is beaten by. Result: +3 hits (+3d10+36 damage). Total damage dice: 4d10+48. Damage rolled: 64. Critical hit! One of your damage dice rolled a 10, add a further 1d10+12 damage: new total 86. Critical hit! One of your damage dice rolled a 10, add a further 1d10+12 damage: New total 100 = 10 magnitudes of damage.

Total damage to Horde: 10 magnitudes.

A wave of ripper-grots surges in your direction, and you rush to meet it. Ichor and blood flies as you rend and punch your way through the swarm. The wave of ripper-grots recedes, devastated by your efforts.

Losis, form the few glimpses you get of him, is fighting with heavy blows, driven by the great strength in his arms. Every stomp he makes not only crushes one ripper-grot, but the shockwave of bones and teeth tends to injure or kill several others. Every corpse he flings aside crushes another ripper-grot with its impact.

Hagrdict and Losis grunt as the latest surge of ripper-grots slams into unyielding ceramite and waiting blades. Another few handfuls of ripper-grots trickle into the feast hall, but then they pause, as if listening to a distant voice, and flow towards the source of the explosion. Clearly the intelligence controlling them as found a greater threat… or a more plentiful source of food.

“Hra! They flee before our wrath!” Gorlin punches the air in fury and exaltation as the ripper-grots briefly draw back out of his reach.

“These midless things? I think not.” Hagrdict take a moment to shake his combat blade clean in a lull in the fighting.

“Rippers don’t think for themselves. If this swarm is no longer being reinforced, then the hive-mind has found a better target for their efforts”

Melee attacking the ripper-grots with a combat knife: +0% to hit. Hatred (Tyranids): +10% to hit. Horde Magnitude is at least 30: +30% to hit.

Success: needed <84, got 79.

Damaging a Horde in melee: weapon damage is 1d10+2+Strength Bonus (10). Damage rolled: 15 = 1 magnitude of damage.

Total damage to Horde: 1 magnitude.

The ripper-grots mostly draw back out of your reach, but you splatter a few stragglers with minimal effort.

“Like a pocket of orks?” Losis asks as he barrels forward into the withdrawing foe. Ripper-grot ichor erupts before his crushing sabatons and several more find themselves skewered in mid-air as they try to leap or lunge aside. Even Gorlin grunts in approval as Losis gets properly stuck in at last.

Gorlin grunts as a jumping ripper-grot sneaks past his guard, but he swipes is aside with a casual backhand after it bounced of his breastplate. Hagrdict grabs another short of his belly, crushing it like a ichor-filled nutrisoy can. You absentmindedly evade a wild lunge, thinking hard. Losis swats aside another foe, pressing his attack.

“Greh! Good! More foes to kill!” Gorlin surges forward into the ripper-grots. As impressive as Losis’ evors were, Gorlin creates a momentary bow-wave of icor and body parts as he slams into the foe.

“Can’t argue with that, but clearly the hive-mind thinks that it has a more dangerous foe to face than the four of us. Hagrdict follows Gorlin into the middle of the swarm, but Gorlin simply hasn’t left anything alive for Hagrdict to kill at the moment.

“Warboss probably, with nobs.” You follow Hagrdict forward, picking off the ripper-grots trying to circle around behind him.

Melee attacking the ripper-grots with a combat knife: +0% to hit. Hatred (Tyranids): +10% to hit.

Success: needed <54, got 37.

Damaging a Horde in melee: weapon damage is 1d10+2+Strength Bonus (10). Damage rolled: 13 = 1 magnitude of damage.

Total damage to Horde: 1 magnitude.

Losis crushes through more ripper-grots, closing up into formation on the three of you. “And where the hive-mind has command, there is a synapse beast.”

Gorlin grunts as a ripper-grot headbuts his leftknee with no effect. Hagrdict staggers as three ripper-grots managae to leap off of an overturned table onto his head and chest. He makes short work of them, even as he skids in the glowing ichor on the ground. Losis shakes a particularly tenacious ripper-grot from his left arm before using it to crush the life from another as it charges him.

The ripper-grots are in full flight before Gorlin, none dairing to come within the reach of his wildly-hewing chainsword. Hagrdict picks up the pace and slashes into the ripper-grots’ collectively exposed backs.

Melee attacking the ripper-grots with a combat knife: +0% to hit. Hatred (Tyranids): +10% to hit.

Success: needed <54, got 30.

Damaging a Horde in melee: weapon damage is 1d10+2+Strength Bonus (10). +1 hit for every 20 the target score is beaten by. Result: +1 hits (+1d10+12 damage). Total damage dice: 2d10+24. Damage rolled: 36 = 3 magnitudes of damage.

Total damage to Horde: 3 magnitudes.

You fall in on Hagrdit’s flank, your hatred burning bright as you slash and crush your way through the rapidly shrinking ranks of the foes in front of you. Losis keeps pace with you, both in positioning and in foes slain.

The sixty-something remaining ripper-grots gather themselves and make one last desperate attempt to inflict at least some damage upon your kill team before they die. Gorlin and Hagrdict easily hold their own, annihilating every ripper-grot that comes into their reach. You and Losis struggle only slightly with the forty-some foes that try their fortune against your blades, but despite a few blows slipping past your guard none of them even breach your armor. Losis headbuts at least one ripper grot out of pure spite, and then the feast hall falls silent.

No more ripper-grots live to attack you. The entire chamber is faintly lit by the bioluminescent ichor that coats the deckplate and is splattered across the first few meters of the walls. It would take a forensic team to peace together exactly how many foes died here, but one is still easily identifiable: the lictor blocking the hatch from whence you came. You take the chance to examine it, letting your hatred cool to smouldering embers as Losis takes up his heavy bolter, Gorlin shudders and shakes as the rush of combat leaves him, and Hagrdict cleans his blade on whatever scraps of ichor-free cloth he can find.

Losis clearly caught the lichtor as it emerged from stealth and charged, hemmed in by the bulkhead on one side and the hole in the floor on the other. His barrage tore its torso to bloody shreds, but his last shots must have been with the muzzle literally pressed into the things torso. You can see the residue of the heavy bolter’s muzzle blast on the front of the things torso. The screech of metal you heard before Losis confirmed his kill was the scything talons and rending claws of the lictor slamming into the hatchframe. Losis must have been nose-to-maw with the thing when it died.

You regroup your killteam, still cautious about more ambushes, and start to push forward towards the far end of the feast hall. Weather its tyranids or ork you find on the other side of the hatch, you will be ready for them.