40k fanfic

[TheLordMaximus]

The chaplain lifted his crozius, and charged the horde of Tyranid gaunts streaming towards him. To his left, the librarian lifted his force sword; to his right, the captain raised his thunder hammer. Around them, chain swords whirred and bolt pistols cracked as the two assault squads rained death into the hordes of Tyranids. The chaplain felt a war cry be torn from his lips as he used his plasma pistol, seeing a warrior fall under his weapon.
And then, the two forces crashed together like opposing tidal waves. The crozius was not much more than an electrified mace and Tyranids were brutally thrown around as he swung the devastating weapon.
The chaplain had never been happier.
However, the twenty assault marines, though they fought valiantly, were dropping like flies. Already, only six remained.
The chaplain saw things were going badly. Smashing apart a hormagaunt, he knew that all they could do is fight until they died.
Now, only he, the captain, the librarian, and two assault marines were still alive.
They all stood in a little circle, bodies of fallen Tyranids beneath their feet.
And a drop pod crashed down upon a carnifex and out strode a contemptor dreadnought, its lascannon limb blasting away, the power fist smashing all in its way. More drop pods fell, tactical and devastator squads raining death among the savage aliens as they quitted the transports that had bore them down; Thunderhawks unleashed salvos of missiles before dropping land speeders, land raiders and rhinos into the fray, then flying into orbit, to bring down more units from the strike cruisers in orbit.
The chaplain roared in savage contentment, his dragon-skull mask as intimidating as any of the monstrous creatures around him.
Chaplain Dovakor of the Subtle Dragons chapter had arrived upon Gaddox.

[Raneth]

Since this is a fanfic, I've moved it to the Den for you.