Imperial Frontier: Brothers in Arms

Blue Power Armour stood out starkly amid the sea of bugs. The red flashes of bolter fire flickered endlessly across the grey-purple swarm, forming a deadly spearhead of blue, green, and grey.

That spear plunged deep into the Tyranid Swarm, a lethal blade thrust straight toward its heart. The entire battle line steadily drove farther into the enemy ranks.

The century-old veterans in Terminator Armour charged at full speed through the sea of bugs. Their blue armour flashed with countless bursts of fire and arcs of ion lightning. Their Battle-Brothers followed close behind, firing bolters and hacking with Chainswords. An entire company—more than a hundred Space Marines—raced across the battlefield, cutting down their foes.

They became a deadly spear. The blue giants trampled the earth, crushing the Emperor's enemies to dust. Thunderhawk Gunships and squadrons of Imperial Navy atmospheric fighters joined forces, battling the Tyranid flyers among the clouds. Dazzling flashes of gunfire flared in the sky.

Shattered aircraft and monstrous beasts streaked across the heavens like meteors, burning away in the flames. But none of it could halt the Sons of Guilliman.

Behind them, tens of thousands of mortal warriors followed close. Astra Militarum troops charged after a flood of armoured vehicles. Tank cannons, plasma beams, Melta Cannons, and heavy bolters thundered as they poured devastating fire into the Tyranid ranks.

Their enemy gave as good as it got. Biovores sprayed plasma from their tails, blue and green lightning flashing endlessly behind the Ultramarines. Both sides threw everything they had into their attacks.

The Emperor's Champion, clad in a red cloak, led the deadly spearhead under his command. The Power Sword in his hand swept constantly through the enemy ranks. Dozens of Terminator veterans strode forward on either side of him, the towering giants advancing with steps of destruction.

Storm Bolters roared in their hands, while heavy Chainswords and cutting-field blades reaped countless Xenos foes. The banner of the Ultramarines 3rd Company fluttered among the blue ranks. More than a hundred Space Marines guarded the glorious standard, using bolter fire and Chainswords to ensure that no vile Xenos could touch it.

Everyone carried out their orders under the command of Captain Mikael. His voice was solemn and beyond question. Even the Space Marines from other forces who had arrived from different directions obeyed him without hesitation. No one would question a glorious Emperor's Champion.

Four Deathwatch warriors fought alongside their Battle-Brothers, sharing the glory of standing shoulder to shoulder with countless Astartes. Ragnar and Lancelot charged at the front, joining the bravest and most honoured of their brothers.

Bell and Olaf stayed with the other Battle-Brothers. Bell aimed and fired his Bolter methodically, while Olaf used his psychic power to slay one Tyranid foe after another.

The mortal warriors of the Astra Militarum were no less determined. They followed close behind the Imperium's war machines. The incarnations of the Machine God roared, their voices shaking the earth, as heavy tracks ground over the ground. Tyranid beasts' corpses cracked and crumbled beneath them, the crunching sounds echoing all around.

The artillery in the Hive City provided what support it could. Heavy guns fired over the walls, bombarding the wasteland and ruined districts beyond the outer Hive City. Every tower and building had long since been reduced to rubble. The once-towering cityscape had become a scarlet wasteland.

The Tyranid Swarm surged like an ocean against the Ultramarines' line. Their flanks and rear were battered again and again. Captain Mikael knew well that the deeper they drove into the enemy, the stronger its counterattacks would become.

As they drew closer to their objective, their losses mounted. It was not only the mortal warriors of the Astra Militarum who were falling; the Astartes were suffering heavy casualties too.

The Tyranids' counterattacks grew more disciplined and orderly. Large beasts and assault units repeatedly charged in, breaking through the Ultramarines' ranks. Every counterattack and interception cost the Chapter more of its Battle-Brothers.

The blue spearhead began to blunt and narrow. But amid the sea of bugs and fire, Mikael could already see their distant target: the mastermind behind all this destruction and death.

On a bare rocky ledge amid the Tyranid Swarm stood a towering Tyranid Tyrant. It rose above the countless creatures as if issuing a challenge and a taunt. Swarms streamed down on either side of it, like torrents rushing past a rock in a river.

Mikael looked at it, then raised his gaze to the enormous shadows behind it. Amid the surging swarm, several beasts as tall as buildings appeared. They opened their gaping jaws and strode toward them from afar. Mikael spotted more of those immense figures in the surrounding directions, not just that one.

It was the Tyrant's trap. It had let the Ultramarines fight their way here, deliberately leaving a gap so they could advance to this point, while inflicting losses on the Astartes along the way. Now it would surround them.

The crimson lenses of the Captain's helmet fixed on the Tyrant. The creature raised the wrist holding its bone blade. Its fang-filled maw slowly opened and closed, as though speaking a wordless victory.

"Captain! We can't hold much longer!" a voice cried through the comms. The Astra Militarum commander shouted for help, while screams and gunfire echoed behind him. The Tyranids had clearly stopped luring them deeper and were now attacking with everything they had.

"We're isolated! We have to stop the advance!" the commander shouted. But the Captain stood tall, raising his head to face the Tyrant. He gripped his sword and stared at the monster in silence.

The Tyrant looked back at the Captain, then suddenly seemed to be drawn to something. It raised its head and stared toward the distant enemy, where the dust of both sides' gunfire hung in the air.

A deep bell tolled through the fog, its sound rolling across the land. Three times it rang. Then a huge iron foot emerged from the haze.

The foot bore the immortal mark of the Machine God. The giant emerged from the fog—and it was not alone. Titans. A Titan Legion!

Six Warhound Titans strode out of the fog. Their shoulder-mounted turbo-laser destructors and plasma blastguns unleashed the Machine God's wrath. Beams flashed over the Astartes' heads, striking the monstrous beasts.

Several huge creatures crashed to the ground, raising clouds of dust. Beneath the churning smoke at the Titans' feet, the Adeptus Mechanicus' swift cavalry charged out. Sydonian Dragoons burst from the haze, the iron feet of their machines crushing the Tyranids in their path as the riders on their backs thrust plasma lances into the enemy ranks.

Behind them came the Skitarii legions. The red-robed faithful of the Machine God charged from the flank, red lightning piercing the Tyranid Swarm and breaking its attack. The Machine God's faithful were unleashing the wrath of the Machine God himself.

The Tyranid Tyrant growled at the Adeptus Mechanicus forces charging into the battlefield, but it had no time to rage. The heavy footfalls of iron crushing bone reached its keen ears. It looked down and saw the blue giant striding toward it.

Captain Mikael swung his sword, cutting down one Tyranid after another as they tried to stop him. His Battle-Brothers immediately supported him. The Terminator veterans redirected their fire to clear the enemies around the Captain, a storm of shots sweeping away whole swathes of Tyranids.

Tyranid veterans surged forward to block any foe that tried to reach the Captain. Mikael rushed through the ranks of his Battle-Brothers. A Tyranid creature carrying a Bio-cannon burst from the swarm and aimed the weapon at him, but it never had the chance to fire. A Thunderhawk roared past and blasted it to pieces.

Every force belonging to the Astartes Chapters reacted with astonishing speed.

Mikael reached the rocky ledge. The Tyrant leapt down and swept at him with its bone blades in a storm of blows. But even that almost imperceptible speed could not bring down the Champion. Mikael precisely blocked the deadly strike and immediately counterattacked.

The Emperor's Champion's sword clashed repeatedly with the Tyrant's Bone Swords. Sparks flashed in every direction between them. Though the Champion faced two Bone Swords, neither could wound him.

The red cloak swept beyond the flashing blades. Its golden-threaded trim reflected the surrounding firelight, the threads shining and circling like a band of light.

They moved too quickly for any mortal to follow. Neither could gain the upper hand, and even the Astartes could barely see the fight, let alone intervene. But one warrior was an exception.

The Knight of Caliban charged in, swinging his Knightly blade from the side. The Tyrant had to divert a Bone Sword to block Lancelot's strike, giving Captain Mikael his opening.

Mikael reversed his sword and cut a wound across the Tyranid's abdomen. The Tyrant roared and swept its tail, knocking the Captain back several steps. It did not hurt him, but just as the Captain was about to rise, a Harridan plunged from the sky and slammed into him, heedless of the fact that its legs had fully atrophied and it would never fly again if it fell.

Lancelot watched in shock, but quickly recovered and blocked the Tyrant's deadly side strike. The berserk beast turned all its fury on the Son of Lion.

As Lancelot blocked its blow, the Tyrant smashed the hilt of its other Bone Sword into his head. The Knight of Caliban was struck to the ground. Fragments flew from his helmet, and its display lens shattered in an instant. But the Tyrant did not stop. It kicked him away, sending him crashing hard against the rocky ledge.

Lancelot smashed through a large chunk of rock and fell to the ground. He pushed himself up with his sword, but as soon as he raised his head, the Tyrant grabbed him by the throat. The towering beast lifted him up. Corrosive acid flowed between the fangs in its maw as it glared furiously at the Space Marine, staring straight into his eyes through the shattered visor.

Lancelot's blue eyes met the beast's. There was not a trace of fear in them. The Son of Lion had not an ounce of fear in his eyes.

"Ragnar! Now!" Lancelot shouted. The Tyrant turned in surprise, just in time to see the Space Wolf charging toward it. At close range, Ragnar hurled his Chainaxe straight at the Tyrant's head.

The Tyrant naturally swung its Bone Sword to block the Chainaxe. The axe bit into the rocky ledge, roaring as it embedded itself. Ragnar charged forward with a roar and drew his dagger, stabbing at the Tyrant's abdomen. But the Tyrant's powerful claws immediately seized both his arms, locking the Space Wolf in its grip.

With brute strength, the Tyrant forced Ragnar down. It looked down at the Space Marine, who was kneeling and unable to resist, and raised its Bone Sword. A triumphant roar burst from its maw. But suddenly its keen hearing picked up another sound: the roar of a Chainaxe.

The Tyranid turned toward Lancelot, pinned beneath it and helpless. For the first time, a look of shock appeared in the beast's eyes.

Lancelot pulled the Chainaxe free from the rocky ledge and slammed it into the Tyrant's face. At point-blank range, the roaring axe buried itself in the Tyranid beast's face. Chunks of flesh and armour sprayed out from both sides of the blade.

The Tyranid Tyrant screamed and released its claws. Lancelot collapsed to the ground, watching as the beast furiously kicked Ragnar away. It stumbled back a few steps and yanked the Chainaxe from its face. With a bloodcurdling roar, it threw the axe to the ground and crushed it beneath its foot.

The Tyrant raised its head and roared at Lancelot with its grotesquely mangled face.

It lifted its Bone Sword and glared down at the Knight, who sat helplessly on the ground. But the Knight's gaze still held no fear. This bewildered the Tyrant again. Seeming to realize something, it suddenly turned and searched all around for attackers like Ragnar.

"Above you," someone said. The Tyrant jerked its head up toward the top of the rocky ledge. A blue figure leapt down from where it had stood moments earlier. A Power Blade stabbed through the centre of the Tyrant's face, and the giant crashed to the ground with the beast.

The blue giant in the red cloak rose to his feet. With a fierce pull to the side, he silenced the roaring beast. Then he stepped on the Tyrant's corpse and pulled his sword from its face, which had been smashed apart like a watermelon.

He turned and walked over to Lancelot. "Can you stand, my honoured brother?" He held out a hand, and the Son of Lion smiled faintly, grasped it, and got to his feet.

"I'd long heard that the Sons of Lion were brave and fearless. Now that I've seen it for myself, I know it's true," Mikael said with admiration. Lancelot picked up his sword and brushed off the dust, then nodded to the Captain. "The honour is yours, Captain." "No, my brother. It belongs to all of us."

"By the Allfather, my axe is broken again." Ragnar walked over from nearby and looked at his Chainaxe, now broken beyond recognition on the ground. Mikael laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.

"We'll find you a new one. But for now..." Mikael and the two warriors turned to look at the chaotic swarm. With the Tyrant dead, the entire Swarm had fallen into disarray. The Tyranid creatures had completely lost control. They almost immediately forgot the difference between friend and foe and began slaughtering one another, while others broke and fled in every direction. The beasts' collective mind—or perhaps they had never had one to begin with—had been the Tyrant. And now the Tyrant was dead.

The vast horde fell apart. The Astartes, the Astra Militarum, and the Adeptus Mechanicus immediately pressed their advantage, killing as many of the creatures as they could.

"We must destroy as much of the Swarm as we can. Come, my brothers. Today will be a glorious day." Mikael raised his sword and charged forward. "Courage and honour! Advance for Macragge!"

Ragnar laughed, drew his dagger, and shouted to the sky, "For Russ and the Allfather!" Then he charged off with a howl, almost immediately killing a Hormagaunt.

Lancelot smiled too, rolled his shoulder, and raised his Knightly sword.

"Repent! Your end is here! For Lion! For the Emperor!"

The Knight of Caliban swung his blade.

Brothers together, let's smash the Xenos! We're collecting monthly tickets now—let's go smash those Xenos together! Charge!