With biomass running scarce for the score of Tyranids still left in space they resorted to a new kind of adaptability. They took over ships. They could not repair or modify the ships due to a lack of materials, but the psychic masters Zoantropes were able to tap into the minds of a few crew members and made out how to operate the ships. They would take the scraps and create a safe haven on the moon Cryx. Several bases scattered the planet and underground biomass pools were created. When their was enough resources, they wound send up several small shuttles filled with new workers and droves of biomass up to their moon base. Using the radar on the ships they could monitor Iax' surface in detail and send troops when needed. But with the threat so focussed on the planet Imperial forces didn't think to look to the planet's moons.
Inquisitor Maltrix had, in his last moments, done something right. He had set on the distress beacon of his ship and had ejected himself into an escape pod. Mortally wounded he had jettisoned himself into deep space. He died in the matter of hours, but had made a single video explaining what the circumstances had been on the planet. The transmission was picked up by several vessels all in several different systems in every direction, but the escape pod, somehow, was found by the Daemon Hunters Ship Extermino a week later. They attempted to salvage what little video was left. In his weakened state Maltrix had warned of daemons on Iax and provided a blurry scrambled image with the claim that they were not out numbered, but out thought. Inquisitor Oroton, the commander of the Extermino, pledged to avenge his fallen brothers and swore to show a true testament of their power and cunning over daemons without the need to destroy the planet. They immediately set out for Iax.
Several weeks had passed since the Imperial Guard had sought out the prevailing insects that inhabited the great jungles of Iax. Colonel Bruismere had taken it upon himself to rid the planet of such a foe, but not at the cost of his massive training grounds. His fight would take decades at this rate, but he was determined to get the job done; believing now that it was not just showing up the inquisition, but in fact, the fighting was becoming personal. But little did he know that eyes that were on him. The dread red eye of the Inquisition would be watching his every move.Meanwhile, several space marine chapters heard the distress call and prepared for battle. The Gaurdsmen of the 38th, 117th, and 12th Iaxian Regiments would continue their fight. Instead of sending graduates to other commands Colonel Bruismere had created a permanent set of forces for the planet. He still gained the new recruits from all over the sector and trained them, but was not sending them out to their other promised duties. He had also neglected to notify the garrisoned Ultramarines and his superiors of his actions stating, "We are currently changing the difficulty of training. These men are becoming soft bellied! I need time to break them of these bad habits that peace has caused". When he was asked about the distress beacon, he stated, "This is a training exercise. And it will continue until they complete their training; which may take weeks". In fact, he was right, the beacon would stop after only 6 weeks, but not by Imperial forces.
. . .
Inquisitor Oroton arrived only two days after the distress beacon had stopped. They believed the ship had managed to fall out of orbit and was destroyed. Within those weeks of travel Oroton learned of the purpose the planet held and of the inhabitants. Knowing of the limited record of Colonel Bruismere, he decided that the Colonel had limited capacity to lead a fight against or even be aware of such a menace. However, he would attempt to consult Bruismere for any information that he might have. As for the garrisoned Ultramarines, he would have servitors investigate all their records for unusual activity or instances of fighting.
The meeting with Colonel Bruismere met with no success. Bruismere acted dumb to the situation and Oroton believed the stupidity to be true, but not about the situation. With both men's pride at stake and the face of their forces to uphold, they each parted in an angry huff. Moments later the forces of the Daemon Hunters would call to arms and set out to destroy their perceived daemons sending out forces that were all but too similar to Maltrix. Bruismere, now knowing the enemy, would call back his troops from areas that might have any Inquisitorial presence; not out of courtesy, but hope that they would be destroyed by their limited knowledge of their enemy.
Foot by muddy foot the Grey Knights would ignite the jungles and clear away any brush. Several days past and there were no signs of any Chaos activity. A entire square mile had been cut and cleared. Inquisitor Oroton was getting impatient. He ordered his troops to abandon clearing the jungle to search for their foe; he believed in the resiliency of his terminators, power armored Grey Knights, his new Dread Knight, and his personal transport in which he was well comfortable in. He would create a wall of his terminators to lead the way, while he would be far behind. At this point, they only needed to search until nightfall.
A dense fog sifted its way through the trees and brush. Every few moments each squads incinerator would ignite to provide limited sight. Every thirty seconds each Justicar would roll call his squad, then would report back to Oroton who was over a half mile behind.
"shh...1st squad reporting...shh"
"shh...2nd squad reporting...shh"
"Come in third squad, Sir, we seem to have some comm link issues. Should we stop the march until the problem is fixed?"
Inquisitor Oroton, "Yawn. Have the men continue their march; the problem is probably just a bad piece of head gear. Relay back to the men to continue while we head to camp for rest. Yawn"
An hour past after Oroton left his forces. The comm links were getting worse and so was the fog. Each squad reported in, except for the Dread Knight Insuln; who was watching the rear. The party came to a halt and there was no sign of the metal behemoth. They began to encircle and call roll again, but the squad of purifiers didn't answer, nor did the unit of power armored Grey Knights. There stand twenty terminators shoulder to shoulder waiting for a sign from the enemy or comrades. For a second the fog began to clear when large crashes all around were heard and figures started to appear. Storm bolters rang out in droves lighting up the jungle in flashes of bullets and discarding shells. Rawrs and deep moans filled the silence in between each volley of bolter shot.
The terminator's downfall would not be the enemy in front, but the enemy already amongst. In the center of the circle that they created the ground collapsed and large tentacles grab several terminators tossing them like pebbles into the distance and the rest would begin to sink into the pit. Quick thinking by the Brother-Captain, he threw a melta bomb into the center of the pit. The explosion instantly killed the underground creature and the men would attempt to climb out, but were already being swarmed by large creatures each with a tentacle of their own and what seemed to be swords. Each of the ten remaining Terminators fought in hand-to-hand a one-on-one duel with a creature. Clinking and clanging and yells of fervor and valor filled the dark jungle. The fight lasted ten minutes when the last creature fell and the three remaining terminators stepped out of the pit. Their fight was far from over.
A massive buzzing noise was moving closer and in front of them landed a massive creature five times bigger than any human with large wings and four gruesome looking sets of scythes. He let out screech and charged the remaining Grey Knight Terminators. Two fell instantly, a scythe to each ones head and the other two scythes going for the Brother-Captain. He ducked and swung cutting off a left arm of the monster. Three scythes came barreling into the Brother-Captain, the first missed, he blocked the second and the third managed to cut into his right arm. He desperately swung and managed to cut off a right arm to the creature. The two remaining scythes, like scissors, came down on the terminators legs, he missed the block and both legs were severed. The Brother-Captain fell, but was determined to do as much damage as he could before he died. When out of nowhere a chimera propelled from the jungle and a melta shot bore itself into the face of the monster incinerating the entire head and body. A single man stepped out smoking a cigar and holding a smoking melta gun. "Looks like we came in the nick of time. Well we better get you back to throw some of them metal gadgets on you."
The Brother-Captain began to loose conscience, "Who are you?"
"Me? I'm Lieutenant Peterson of the remaining 32nd Iaxian Regiment"