Ga'duk wandered the Hulk with Thorn and several new people. He didn't bring up much conversation as he was trying to be vigilant against the gene-stealers or whatever horrors came at them. He was quickly becoming bored with the vigilance, and hungry. His stomach had grumbled several times, each time Ga'duk searched his little ammo bag for a snack and it was disappointing each time. Currently it was fine, He was accustomed to going a while without food sometimes boarding actions on an enemy vessel could take many hours or when food rations where withheld from him for punishment. It was still an uncomfortable feeling that he was displeased by and he was about to announce, loudly, that he was hungry. He never got the chance, as he inhaled to speak the sound skittering tyrannid rose behind them. 

Ga'duk uttered what sounded like a very childish "uh-oh" except for it being several octaves too deep, before chambering an explosive shell into his grenade gauntlet and choking his grip up on his ax to swing it easier in the corridor. He turned to face the incoming Tyrannid backing up with the rest of the group, eyes searching for hostiles. The sound grew in volume and intensity quickly even while the incoming horde was not yet visible, to the point that Ga'duk was becoming concerned above thoughts of food. When the Gene-stealers finally came into the light of their lamps Ga'duk was stunned for a moment as the Tyrannid horde was so vast that they could not be confined to the floor of the corridor and the front of the charge was covering the whole interior of the corridor, and likely the outside of it as well. Within the great horde a huge Broodlord charged as well. Ga'duk glaced back at Thorn, even Ga'duk knew that the odds of surviving this was approximately 0. He pleaded, desperate for orders unsure what action he could take to protect his impromptu unit from being consumed 

"Wh-What do boss?" he said, the false start the entire indication of his fear. He glanced back at the rushing horde and made a decision for himself before Thorn could speak, something that he would have otherwise been proud of if about 12 memories of commissars executing cowards didn't flare up in his head. It didnt matter however, there where none of the mean men in funny hats here right now so he could worry about it later. He turned on his heel and ran for his life, with a surprisingly calm manta of "No, No, No, No, No..." 

The sprint for his life did little to protect him however as he ran out of the corridor and noticed a unit of Battle Ssters who where embattled with Space Marines. Several bolter shells detonated around him, sending hot shrapnel digging into his exposed flesh. He tried to think desperately and decided Thorn, or one of the other marines, could figure the next move out for him. Because deciding for himself has not seemed to improve the situation.