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// When Hitler's nephew enlisted himself to the US navy, the recruiting officer supposedly said "Glad to see you, Hitler. My name's Hess." 
// Story: I Blame You, Too 
// by Whitestrake 
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	How ironic is it that as we spread progress and hope throughout the galaxy, the Tyranids spread death and despair. Only united can we stand against them. – Aun'shi of the Tau

@#@#@# Amos's POV @#@#@#

Was Chrysalis seriously showing off a vagina that sounded like a Tyranid biomorph? As I punched in the door code and engaged the auto-docking sequence, I turned my seat to face the passenger cabin. Indeed, there was Chrysalis with her hindquarters facing Oleg and Delray; Jacques and Jay craned their heads to get a look. Twilight looked away, her face red and her ears flat.  Delphine could see it, but I was thankfully not privy to alien genitalia.

“It glows,” Delray said in a small voice, staring intently. He had a look of slight unease on his face, the sort Dahl had when first meeting the changeling queen.

“It has claws,” Oleg chimed in, equally astonished and disturbed. I was surprised he had Taylor pegged as one to exaggerate; him being an old friend of mine, I knew he heard his fair share of stories in pubs and taphouses on the planets we visited.

“It's green,” Delphine practically gasped. She was a Sister Hospitaller, so I knew she had seen some very disgusting things in her time. The color green, at least in humans, was associated with disease; I estimated seeing what she may have at first assumed to be a painful condition may have been equivalent to a man seeing another being hit in the testicles. If so, I felt nothing but sympathy for her.

“Changeling blood is green,” Chrysalis replied in Low Gothic, sending Delray and Oleg into a fit of mixed apologies and accusations of Taylor being a devious bastard. Delphine looked a little shocked at the revelation, but cracked a smile. That changed as soon as she twisted her body to ensure I got a look. I had a few questions for both of them, but I figured Taylor already knew what those were.

“I wonder how your first time as a couple went down, now.” Delray's pondering elicited a small, devious smile from the queen, while prompting Taylor to start laughing. I think I wouldn't be too fond of that story.

The mood, as lighthearted, disgusted, and jovial as it was, shifted the moment the strider's landing gear touched the deck.

@#@#@# Taylor's POV @#@#@#

I imagined interstellar vessels would be large, but the Valkyrie was about four kilometers long. She was a Galaxy Class freighter outfitted with light defensive batteries, which meant while she had two large holds near the stern, the third of the ship near the bow was almost entirely crew quarters and necessary living spaces. We would set up the Doorframe in the main hold, then make our way to the helm and vent the Valkyrie's airlocks. The Broodlord was somewhere in the winding labyrinth of corridors, but the infected crew were difficult to find. There was one, a female by the feel of thing, who was a latent psyker, but she was more a blip of static than the Broodlord's defined silhouette.

“Oleg, Jay, cover the anterior flank; Jacques and Chrysalis, watch the ceiling.” I pointed to the corresponding areas as I gave the orders, hoping everyone involved understood how serious the situation was. Twilight and Delphine were with me and Delray; Amos would serve as our primary bodyguard while I was setting up the Doorframe. I turned to the Shipmaster, “Mind if I drill into this support beam?”

“If you can,” He answered hesitantly as I pulled out a plasma cutter, one of the many pieces of technology Celestia did not tell the public about. I made them look away as I went to work. Plasma cutters are bright and produce a large amount of ultraviolet light, meaning once I start, anything even looking in this direction is going to come after us.

@#@#@# Amos's POV @#@#@#

The minute Taylor started cutting, I brought up my las carbine. Genestealers had their chitin for armor, as the lasgun wasn't exactly known for its anti-armor capabilities. I had eighty shots in my battery, plus two replacements when that one ran dry. It would take me a few shots to find a weak point, but the bugs would die pretty quickly. The darkened hangar was less than hospitable, but I tried my best to focus solely on sound. All was quiet, save for the noise generated by Taylor's plasma cutter.

In the moment he stopped to make the next hole, I heard a small piece of metal clang against the deck in front of me. Without a moment's hesitation, I jerked to the sound and fired three shots. The air lit up as it ionized under the laser's intense energy, making blue trails that would have seared my retinas were I not wearing my pilot's goggles. I only got a brief glimpse of my target as his flesh flash-boiled and exploded. At close range, a lasgun, even the weaker las carbine, can sever limbs, even if most armor could stop it. All three shots hit, all three were kill-shots.

The infected man's neck, chest, and left shoulder erupted in a cloud of pink mist. The entire room lit up in a purple glow; Twilight was giving us some reliable illumination. I kinda wish she hadn't.

“By the Emperor!” I shouted as I saw the two genestealers trying to flank me. A green lance of energy cut one down as the words left my mouth, trailing back to Chrysalis. I fired as fast as I could at the remaining stalker. Blue flashed around it, grazing or directly exploding off its exoskeleton. A well-placed round from Oleg's autocannon ended its life, spraying most of its thorax onto the wall and deck behind it.

The flickering light of fire danced along the hangar's walls as Jay found a few of the infected; I know it was them because of the way they screamed as the burned. One of the crazed men rushed from behind a tool rack, swinging a large wrench. I slammed my las carbine's stock against his face and shot him in the chest. Chrysalis fired a bolt of green energy at a fleeing man, blowing him to pieces. 

Somewhere, a grenade went off. There was a hissing shriek as a genestealer died, way inside our perimeter. I turned just as the man I shot hit the deck, and saw Taylor jamming his plasma cutter into the 'stealer's head; its limbs were frozen centimeters from his black armor. Placing a boot on its chest, he kicked the overgrown insect away. He reached into the bag and pulled out a small, rectangular piece of plastic.

The Doorframe crackled to life, revealing the inside of the Canterlot Temple, and the columns of rank and file inquisitors who stood at the ready. Behind them, over one hundred changeling drones were primed to enter the fray, eager to defend the Burned Man, the center of their hive consciousness. The assistance would have been much appreciated had it come moments earlier, but as the assault ceased, I was painfully away of how poorly that encounter could have gone. We started sweeping the area the as black-clad ponies, and learned that, had they even been there, any other genestealers and infected humans were long gone.

“How long do you suppose clearing this vessel will take?” One of the inquisitors asked me in Low Gothic. She was not wearing her helmet, but had her eyes covered by a small visor. Her codename was the Linguist, and she was a code-breaker and interpreter. “Provided we don't vent her into space.”

“Hours, maybe days,” Oleg answered in my place. “But the Burned Man says there is a Broodlord somewhere on the ship; we need to take it down before it can coordinate another ambush.”

“It's in the bowels of the ship, near the bottom.” Taylor walked over to us, cleaning his plasma cutter. I trusted he knew where it was, both of them being psykers. Delray knew his ship's layout, and only he could lead us to it; he also had the only override key to the airlocks. The helm was a deathtrap if the Broodlord was alive, and the Shipmaster was at risk if he led us to it. Chrysalis walked up to us as the changeling horde started filtering in.

“Based on what running through Taylor's head, I'd say we're about fucked.” Personally, I think she summed up the situation rather nicely.