+++Begin Transmission+++ ++Subject: Assault on Gehenna III++ +Cross-Reference: Cleansing of the Gothic Sector+ Currently the Assault on Gehenna III is going well for the Imperium. The vile enemies of the Imperium were driven back from the air field at A'Charon and the Imperium may begin landing it's troops. With air superiority achieved the Imperium's invasion of Gehenna III is now in overdrive. The Battle over Gehenna III however is still raging. The Imperial Navy is currently fighting a holding battle attempting to drop as many of it's Imperial Guard Regiments and Armour Companies as possible to the planet's surface before the enemies of the Imperium make another stab at the fleet. Mobilization of the current forces planet side is paramount. A large fortress devoted to the Emperor's foes has been discovered 300 kilometers north by north west of the air field at A'Charon. This Fortress, dubbed The Iron Citadel, has four class XII Orbital Defense Mega-Lasers. Destruction of this Fortress will allow our Titan Legions a drop window. The Iron Citadel must be destroyed in order for the Imperium to make a full scale invasion of Gehenna III plausible.

+++Transmission Terminated+++ *Something in the ickiness stirs.* *Stretching it's carapaced limbs briefly it scans the area for the pheromone scent that awoke it from the Hive Mind's gentle embrace.* *The dull thuding of Terminator armor echoes off into the distance. With a quick flick of it's head, Red Feast zeroes in on Cjarl's position* *A flurry of movement, a splattering of blood, a curse, a scream, then silence.* And so the silence hung, almost tangible as Redfeast paused in his delight. Savoring the kill with each passing moment, he slowly withdrew his massive clawed talons from the oddly familar victom. As the cold slug of realization crawled up his back, he stared into the black souless eyes of the Hybrid Genestealer. So human looking, yet upon closer inspection, it was obvious where its loyality lay. Suddenly his revelations were cut short as the loud pounding of armored feet echoed no longer in the distance, but seemed like crashing waves against the rocks. To late Redfeast realized as the hum of some power source sprang to life near his carapaced protected head. ,......

Elongated canines revealed themselves through the snarling grin of the Wolfpriest as he assaulted his prey. Already rotors within his armored arm whinned as he brought his weapon about in a deadly arc. Even in mid swing as the weapon was activated Cjarl could feel its power vibrating, like some wildbeast bursting forth from his cage. Carapace and blood splattered about, raining the ancient furs decorated about his terminator armor. Fast as he was, the bugg was faster and managed to aviod this killing blow, yet was crippled as its hind leg seemed to mesh with the steal grid floor. Even with its leg smashed to a pulpy ruin the bugg moved with lighting speed as it rolled to oneside and flung itself back at the Wolfpriest. It seem as if a nightmare amount of tenticles , claws, and fangs opened up toward the Wolfpriest. Moments hung suspended like hours as the Tyranid obmination flew through the air. Continueing his momentum from his last swing, Wolfpriest Cjarl pulled the humming power weapon up and over his head with a two-handed grip. Power discharge trailed his mighty blow as it raced to meet the bugg mid-air. Arms jarred from the impact as his smote the bugg from the air with a loud thunderclap of energy. Reminents of the Redfeast lay scatter all about the area as Wolfpriest Cjarl howled with victory,.... activating his tele-com implant unit,..++++zzzZZHITT+++ "Last Nid elminated, begin dust off." +++++++zzzzhzhITTTtt++++ More Wolves entered the bugg splattered corridor as they joined the Wolfpriest to leave the floating spacehulk. "Orders brother Wolfpriest?" Cjarl smiled revealing his elongated canines," Blow the hulk and send the rest of the buggs to Morkai's Gate."

Even from the distant as the shuttle docked with the Space Wolf battle barge, Wolfpriest Cjarl could still the the glowing ember like remains of the once Dread Redfeast Spacehulk. ... Or so the valiant Wolf Priest thought... The interior of gun emplacement Theta 40074, deck 32, starboard side of the Space Wolf Battle Barge vaguely resembled the regurgitated entirety of the mess hall's "spaghetti Sunday". The gunners were nowhere to be found, correction, they were everywhere... you just wouldn't be able to recognize them. The blast doors had since sealed over the gapping wound through the gun emplacement's view port. The remenants of a concentrated acid sizzled at the ceremite, melted metal dripping like butter to spatter in the gore drenched floor of Theta 40074. Across the small chamber something quivered, then shook. A mess of greasy protein and leathery shell splattered about the room. From the remenants of the Tyranid spore stood the shakey, lither form of what would soon be the Hive Mind's wrath reborn. Twenty-Five minutes later tech adept Adrian Puck opened the doors to the gun emplacement. An automated computer message had informed him earlier that there was an electrical short in the compartment that needed his attention. His attention, however, was needed much more so by the starving creature within. Moments later, and several disgusting mutations better not mentioned, the fully grown terror known as Red Feast emerged from the gruesome confines of Theta 40074 and quickly found it's way into the ventilation ducts. Tech adept Adrian Puck was never to be found, nor were the five tech acolytes sent to find him.

Infact, Cjarl was informed on the bridge nearly an hour later that the entire starboard battery on deck 32 hadn't reported in. A unit of Blood Claws were sent to investigate five minutes prior to Cjarl being informed. Cjarl knew, however, somewhere deep inside him he knew... those pups were never coming back. Ten Blood Claws and 137 crewmen later, Red Feast had gathered a sizeable amount of bio-matter. The five hormagaunts that had been borne from the deceased tech acolytes were busy laying eggs like mad throughout the ventilation ducts. Red Feast had already seeded the bodies of many of the crew with Tyranid Warrior and Genestealer genus. Within minutes the first of the deadly Tyranid creatures had ripped it's way free of it's host parent. Genestealers were dispatched with haste to gather more genetic material and to find, if possible, the location of one... Wolf Priest Cjarl. to be continued... (Ominous music fades out)

.....Theta 40074 was rumored to be lost in space, now inhibited by the ruthless Tyranids and hive mind Red Feast. Back at the Fang, Wolf Lord Patrick recieved this grimm message about his friend Cjarl, and immediatley statrted preparations for retrival of Cjarl's hulk along with the extermination of the hive mind Red Feast. ...Somehow the Wolf Lord knew that Cjarl was still alive. That the last transmissions of the little blue box were a distress signal for help, from what could be perhaps a lone survivor onboard a now Tyranid infested hulk... 30 minutes later the thunderhawk Gemini was in orbit racing toward the hulk, hoping that it haden't drifted too far from the origin of the it's last transmission. Onboard the Gemini were Wolf Lord Patrick's finest Space Wolves. They had done battle with Red Feast before, and somehow he knew that the hive mind would be waiting for him...

Noise and static flashed on the large vid screen as the images strove to breaktrhough. " Space Hulk distress becon seems to have disappeared Wolflord Patrick." The tall armored form of Wolflord loomed above the communications officier," What??,..then whats this new transmission ?" He asked with a cautious tone and knowing something was not right here. The answer became perfectly clear as the Thunderhawk Gemni round the last of its orbit path. What greeted Wolflord Patrick's sight as the vid screen became clear filled him with dread. Drifting before them at an odd angle was the Space Wolf Battle Barge of the WOlfpriest Cjarl, but what realy caught thier attention was the malignant growth that seethed with life on the ships side. The massive groutesque orb on the ships hull also protruded four tenticle like strands that ended in four orb like masses of flesh that glowed with an erie pulse. Breaking the now silenced atmosphere of the controll deck the communications officier spoke," Wolflord,,,..the communication has come thru, its the Wolfpriest's Battle Barge.!" "Well bring it up on screen." Wolflord Patrick barely suppressed a growl as he watched the com officier press the glowing icons and mumble the litany of resolve. The vid screen blinked off and on to finally solidify the images. Adorned in the native wolfpelts of the fenrisian wolves, the snarling visage of Wolfpriest Cjarl came into view. +++ Thunderhawk Gemni, what are yo doing here!" +++ Wolflord Patrick took the com "Hail Russ your alive, we answered your distress call and came at once" +++Distress call,...?? We sent no distress call,..GREAT SAKE, DESTROY THOSE DRIFTING ORBS FROM THE GROWTH NOW..!!!" Moving with well trained procession the command crew aboard the Gemni sent the straffing fire of thier herculan cannons across the surface of the glowing orbs. Great gouts of splurting ozze poured forth form the orbs as it deflated from its wounds from the incoming fire of the Thunderhawk. +++ Wolflord Patrick, make preperations for an assault tube deployment, I'm coming to your ship. **snarling and revealing his elongated canines** Seems those orbs sent you false messages and also another long communication to sector J-Bug. Message no doubt to some Tyranid ship,...time is of the essence. Wolfpriest Cjarl out,..++++

Last of the preperations were made as the acolytes of the adeptus mechanicus preformed the rights of the machine, chanting thier litany with a fervor as they closed the hatch to the assault tube. Warning lights flashed all around the seated terminators as the tubes inner icons flashed red for launch preperations. The battle had been long and hard but the nids were finally contained aboard deck 32. Though the problem was trying to access deck 32, what with the strange bio-construct that sealed the deck off from the rest of the ship, it was impossiable to enter and finsh the nids off. Though now Wolfpriest Cjarl knew the intentions of the Nids of Redfeast, they had bought just enough time to send out a signal and tried to gather a few more remaining smaller ships for more thier gene vats to reproduce more of thier kind. Hence the arrival of Wolflord Patrick's Thunderhawk. THe inner wolf raged inside Cjarl as its thirst for revenge upon the Tyranids for thier attack on his battle barge burned like white hot steal. Soon he would be face to face with his foe, and the only way to stop them was a strike at the heart of the matter before the Tyranid rienforcements could arrive. And to destroy any information the buggs gathered while they were within his ship. Adorned in the ancient terminator armor, the suits excoskeleton of layers upon layers of ceramite seem to sooth the wolf within as he remembered. Flexing his left hand encased in the powerfist he held it before him, running his right hand over the many battle worn scars. Each bump or stratch seem to hold a fold of memories, from the small skrimishes of Empiracus to the full scale war of Armagedon where he had won his fame in single combat against the orc Warlord Skullsplitter. How many armies of the Imperium has that orc slain that day, and how many wolfbrothers had it slain before he confronted it? How many more wolfbrothers will be slain this day before this Tyranid threat can be ended. Surpressing a growl at the thought, he took in the scent of his wolf brothers

. One of the many blessings of the spacewolf gene-seend and what gave the sons of Russ the edge. Only barely checked anticpation and controlled fury greeted his acute senses. Looking down the line of seated terminators he saw many of his personal wolfguard as well as Wolflord Patrick who towered over the others. Even for spacemarines, he was large and easily hefted the mighty stormhammer over his shoulder while adjusting the stormshield he held in his other hand. Further down he saw Ronuskent and Mik'Hoffman make thier final litanies of readiness upon the long assault cannons while brothers Cox who sat oppisite of them sat grim faced with painted tatoos on thier foreheads. Thrall Felix walked the lines for the last recheck of the Terminators and noded to back to him as he made ready himself for the launch. Looking himself Cjarl looked down the line even further to make sure the rest were ready,..Davefer, Cliffdorg, Maddog, RobRinnerh, Benglecris, Haurbaugh, Murdockeous, Gordo, both Outriders, OsheemGo, etc,... all seemed ready to go. Weightless feeling of the loss of gravity engulfed Cjarl as the assault pod drifted from the main body of the THunderhawk with the occassionl jet spurts as it angled itself for the assault launch.

Holding his Wolf Icon above his head he began his prayer as the other spacewolves followed along,"Lo there do I see my Emperor, Lo there do I see Russ, Lo there do I see the line of my Chapter back from the beginning, and Lo they do call to me." +++Red flashing lights whirled in anticipating of the launch sequence, 5, 4, ++++ ,.."they bid me join them, in the halls of my ancestors .." +++ 3, 2. +++ "where the brave shall live forever!" ++++..1,.. Mark ++++ For the briefiest of instances a blinding light flashed, as Cjarl gripped his wolf icon and heard the engines start like the sounds of a mighty kraken during a storm,. The massive engines roared their defiance propelling the assault tube ever forward. Even through his armored shell he could feel the whole of the assault tube vibrate then suddenly jar itself in and through the gigantic bio mass on the hull of his battlebarge. Deep within the the shell of the maligant Tyranid mass they entered and finally come to an abrupt stop. The seat clamps sprang off of him as Cjarl watched the above icons flash as he stood. Through act of will he switched to the com-net relay within him, speaking the the grop as a whole,"Battle set formation Wolves, move it!" Already the heavy bolters came to life at the nose entrance, sending whatever unfortunate thing in thier proximity to its well deserved rest. Blackness engulfed the bording tube, but as quickly it came, it was gone. Replaced by the automated lights of the termy suits. Sounds of the hvy bolters died down as the double doors opened and Cjarl's company made there way in. The small hairs on the back of Wolfpriest Cjarl stood up as he looked down the inhuman corridor. Like the inards of some gigantic whale, the once steel corridor seemed to be transformed into some kind of living thing. Soft pinkish tissue lined the floor and walls, glistening with some slick like slime. Each step seem to discolor and bruise the very ground while bulbuious viens and arteries pulsed and whiggled all about them,.........

As Cjarl stepped forth to take in his surroundings the faintest of hisses perked his ears. His eyes darted toward the sound, but there was nothing, only the viscous heresy that surrounded him and his wolf brothers. Globlets of some oozing slime dripped from the ceiling to land with a thick splat upon the cartillage-like carpet at the Wolf Priest's feet. As Wolf Lord Patrick exited the pod the heavy bolters sprang to life, firing at some abomination down a corridor near the nose of the craft. The chitinous plates of the monstrous creature deflected the bolter rounds with high pitched whines and pings which only served to further enrage the scythe armed monstrosity. With two massive strides the Carnifex waded through the bolter fire and sank all four of it's massive claws it's the nose of the drop pod. With a groaning of steel the pod was lifted with impossible speed and strength. The Wolf brothers who had not yet had a chance to exit the pod bellowed in fear as they fell toward the nose of the craft, a hand full managed to escape before the massive scything claws of the 'Fex seemed to twist slightly and rapidly pulled the drop pod apart. The heavy bolters silenced and a gout of flame erupted from along the flank of the pod. In seconds the armored sheath exploded into flames, the screams over the comm-link ended quickly.

Turning from the carnage it wrought the Carnifex's gaze fell upon Cjarl and Patrick. With a deafening scream it lurched at them, a flash of bio-plasma spurting briefly from it's cavernous maw. Without a moments hesitation the Wolves opened fire, their bolt guns held John Woo style as they readied their chain swords and power fists. The bolter rounds deflected as harmlessly as their larger cousins, but a lucky shot from Patrick struck it in the left eye. A jet of ichor spurt forth as the chitinous plates shifted to wink the eye socket closed. Bolters blazing the Wolves leapt into combat against the Fex. Chain swords roared to life as they bit into the impossibly thick armor plating. Praises to Russ and the hum of power weapons filled the air as the Wolves pressed their attack. A power axe cleaved one of the Carni's arms at the elbow, nearly removing it entirely. It hung there, limp, but only for a brief second as the beast swung it in a wide arc. Cjarl ducked the clumsy blow, he had fought an alien horror such as this before. Wolf Lord Patrick boldly strode drove his Frost Fang into the creatures chest. It bellowed in pain as the motor of the weapon struggled to carve through the alien innards. The Fex lifted a massive bladed arm and swiped at the Wolf Lord's torso, aiming to cleave him in two.

But at the mention of Russ' name the blow was deflected by a powerful energy field. The Belt about Patrick's waist glowed with power, the runes adorning it shimmering blue as Russ protected the mighty Wolf Lord. Two Wolf Brothers were cleaved in half as they raised their power fists to strike down the behemoth. Cjarl and Patrick growled as one at the outrage. Cjarl swung his powerfist in a low back handed arc. It struck the Carnifex straight between it's eyes and vaporized it's head. With a gurgling howl the beast collapsed in a messy heap. The remaining four wolves cheered at the death of their foe, their cheers would be short lived. Cjarl again heard the hissing. Patrick whirled to face it as well, his acute senses zeroing in on a sound he had heard far too often. Simultaneously the two Wolf Champions yelled.

"GENESTEALERS!" Within the dome of the crystal seers, Farseer Suboshi watched the horror aboard Wolfpriest Cjarl's battle barge unfold in his mind. As he watched, the vision became unclear and his runes of warding flared to life....... Though he did not know the outcome of this battle the Farseer knew that his forces would face Wolflord Patrick, Wolfpriest Cjarl and Red Feast again. After countless battles and many lives lost, Suboshi needed to rest. For the time being the universe can rest as well as the shadow of death will not fall upon it. Take heed Mon Keigh, the forces of Farseer Suboshi will not rest forever..... Other cries added there voices to the battle calls, survivors of the Fex's onslaught. Familar voices yelled into the com-net of WOlfpriest Cjarl's implant, acknowledging thier good fortune that Russ protected them. Yet just ahead, the new threat waited. Black soulless eyes which seemed to engulf them in there alien like hatred peered from a distance. Swaying back and forth the carapace monstrosities, clicked thier claws in a rythmic sound. Why hadn't the Genestealers attacked us, they outnumbered us 10 to one. Looking over at Wolflord Patrick to share his surprise he spoke," Hold your ground Sons of Russ!" "What are you up to Wolfpriest?" asked WL Patrick with gritted teeth. " I think I know,.." noding back to Cjarl in agreement Patrick surpressed his inner wolf and made ready for any attack.

Slowly Cjarl took a step forward toward the seething mass of Genestealers, and to his suprise, as one they moved back. Again he repeated his actions to the same response,..+++ Wolves, seems they want us to follow them, obiviously some type of trap intended +++ snarling the last statement he revealed his elongated canines. Wolfguard Harbaugh's solem voice spoke next over the com-net implants," Wolfpriest, it seems from my Motion Display Mapper thier taking us to the next room which is our objective anyhow." The next voice unmistakingly belonged to Maddog as each word ended in gutterul growl," Grrr great then then, we didnt get dressed up for nothing rrrrr!" As one the Space Wolves shared the mirth of the moment as Wolflord Patrick signaled them to silence. Cjarl smiled inwardly to himself, seems the final battle is at hand, yet another dire situation in yet another unbalanced arena. In his right hand the Wolfheaded Crozium sprang to life as he activated it and was bath in its glowing blue light. Energy crackled and played about its surface, as he looked upon his ancient terminator armor wondering what new scars he would recieve to the many. Just another tale to the fold of the many,....without looking back he gave the silent signal and the Wolves advanced.

Entering thier objective, the immense oval room stank like dead whalesharks that used to wash up on the beaches of his childhood on Fenris. Cjarl remembered how the men of his long forgotten tribe would gather during the harsh winters along the stretch of the coast to gather blubber, bones, and meat from the stricken Whales, Levithons, and other gigantic beasts. Groups of hunters would cut thier way within the very bellies of these gaint beasts, covered in blood and filth. Such was this place he thought, as if they had entered the stomach of some alien beast. Purples, Greens, pinks, a myraid of varous glistening hues all about them, seemingly held up by massive pillar like cartilege ribs. An almost tangible yellowish mist seem to cover the flesh like ground below like a blanket as his group cautiously walked to the center of the humid room. Genestealers ringed the room, hoping and quivering making an odd clicking noise which grew in sound. Louder and louder the sounds grew till suddenly at the opposite wall a huge blister like sore appeared as small orifices opened all around it. Gapping like mouths which sprung tongue like appendages that lashed at the massive blister sore. As the Space Wolves faced the new threat, growling in response. Wolfpriest Cjarl watched with morbid fascination along with he others as the tenticles lashed and cut through the massive sore which eventually sprayed out its contents on the floor below. Withing Wraithbone walls a lone figure stirred, adorned in the garb of a Farseer and standing before the Web like portal. Suboshi cast the runes of fate again only to come to the same conclusion. Light foot steps of the Banshees echoed down the hall toward the Webway portal, now the time of fate has arrived he thought to himself as the lead aspect warriors through the portal. Now would be the time his own fate which has been hidden from him would be revealed.

Wolfpriest Cjarl and the others watched as the huge egg like carapace which spewed forth from the gigantic sore began to shake and crack. The gaint egg like shell seem to take a life of its own as its opening embrace uncovered the large Tyranid Warriors within. Almost twice the size of a man these abominations stood, like fleshless nightmares bareing teeth and strange bio-weaponry, but nothing in comparsion to what towered behing them. Like the color of blood its carapace like armor glistened in the dry heat of the room. Standing upon hooved feet this thing cast an aura of hatred like none ever felt or understood by Cjarl. A alien hate which could consume a universe and still be left wanting. A protruding crown of carapace adorned the head of this fiendish construct of death itself,..Redfeast stood before them and all hell with it. The hairs on the neck of Cjarl stood as he sense some strange power being brought to bare near his grp, then suddenly a hole appeared from thin air. And as suddenly as it appear it was gone, but where once it hung like a mystery, now stood a small host of Eldar. Before he could begin to make any sense of the situation a horrific roar belowed and the Tyranids were upon them.

Within Cjarl the wolf raged to be let out, to engage and tear through his enemies, only with practiced will was he able to use the best of both worlds. Lighting like instincts of the wolf coupled with the power and training of the Space Marines gave him the edge. As one the Space Wolves moved as a pack, knowing each others moves and reactions. His howling mingled in with the rest of the Space Wolves as the battle was joined. It seemed the Eldar and the Space Wolves shared a common enemy he though, for now anyhow. Nimble figures of the Eldar seemed to dance among the fray of combat as he watch thier leader move with the grace of an elk. The press of bodies made it almost impossiable to miss as his weapon arm was drenched with greenish blood and bile like substances from the slain nids. Though Eldar, Tyranid and Space Wolf shared no distinctive ideals, death showed no concern of thier differences as they all made thier ways its the halls thought Cjarl. Assault cannons whirled and spat death, bone like bio weapons tore through armor like tissue paper, Storm bolters showered empty shells about, sonic screams of the banshees pieced through the battle, clawed hands scraped and sliced, and through it all Cjarl howled his battle lust.

Finding himself suddeningly in an open spot with Wolflord Patrick and the Eldar Farseer Suboshi all three turned as one to face the behemoth form of the Redfeast. Instincts born of many battles saved Cjarl's life as he barly raised his powerfist to meet the barrage of scything blows from the Tyranid Hive Queen. Icons flashed red warning lights within his suit as the tremondous blows hammered home, staggering him to one knee. Where once stood the Farseer Suboshi now stoon two massive claws embed into the fleshy ground. Where the space marines had strength and stamina, the eldar easily made up for in agility and speed. Cjarl watched as the bluring figure of Farseer moved about Redfeast, slicing and chipping away with his singing spear. Well not to let the eldar have all the glory, Wolfpriest Cjarl and Patrick counter striked with an almost feral ferocity. Pushing back the massive Hive Queen Redfeast with thier attack. Great taloned scythes the size of a man swung about in deadly arcs, only the armored shell of the terminator armor and the wraithbone armor of the farseer saw them through. Little by litte the 3 pushed back the monstroisity, despite its overbearing power and strength. Soon it become apparent to Redfeast that together they could overwelm him. In an act of desperation Redfeast let out a highpitched sound. As one the other Tyranids turned and barred the Eldar and Space Wolves way for the Queen to escape, selling thier lives dearly. Walls of nids blocked there path only to be chopped and hacked down, but it was enough. Redfeast had escaped, soon afterwards the Space Wolves parted with only a nod from the Farseer before he ported out with what remained of his banshees,........

Many weeks later after scouring the sector with ships and planet drops the wolfpelt clad figure stood upon the bridge of his new ship admiring yet another volley of scared and bumped sections of his armor, Cjarl could wondered what new stories were ahead. "Wolfpriest Cjarl, hail good friend, seems the bugs have eluded us again." smiled Wolflord Patrick as he walked up and clasped hands. Cjarl return his smile with a grin of his own revealing his elongated canines," Yes so it seems, but after reviewing grid 9-456 I think I may have found there hiding place." expertly running his hand over the blue glowing icons below the floating grid map Cjarl enhanced the sector a 100% for a full view. Motioning with his Wolfhead Crozium,"There, on Planet Empireus Gameus, there is where we shall find the Redfeast." With luck they will be the ones assaulting the Nids as preperations have already begun, may Russ watch over us he thought to himself