Speculum Enigmate Chapter 28

The battle raged across the city, filling the air with the clamour of war. Gunshots echoed from all directions and explosions bloomed as the carnage spread. Screams and desperate cries were drowned out by roars of anger and the deep rumble of buildings collapsing in on themselves and piles of dead grew ever higher.

The Kiith were everywhere, gunning down fleeing civilians and falling upon the survivors with rabid frenzy. Their first attack had taken or crippled a score of key facilities, claiming dominance over the city. Yet they weren't having it all their own way. Isolated and scattered pockets of resistance were fighting back. Trapped soldiers of the PDF and the Arbites engaged any foe they could see, even the local constables fought back though their resistance was brief. They had little idea what they were fighting but they recognised the twisted hybrids as being other and so they attacked on sight.

Through empty warehouses lasfire was traded between desperate knots of men. Heavy weapon teams dug in at burnt-out windows and blazed away at anything that crossed their sights, friend or foe. In the suburbs detonations ripped buildings apart as Earthshaker batteries lobbed ordnance into their own sides' homes. Many civilians died as the artillery rained down, but the PDF had reports of enemies in the zone and hurriedly vectored in heavy firepower, uncaring about collateral damage. Only those who reached the city limits and fled into the countryside enjoyed a hint of safety, the rest were left to burn.

In the whole city only the Jade Citadel stood inviolate, it's mighty walls and gates proof against the bedlam sweeping the streets. Its high ramparts shimmered under the light of a void shield, protecting those within from harm. Many civilians ran to its Adamantium gates seeking shelter but no help came from that direction. The gates remained shut and none were allowed to venture forth to offer aid, the Governor refusing to lend any help to her stricken people.

Odrin heard the clamour and it made his teeth grit. The battle should have been swift and certain, had he been allowed to orchestrate it then it would have been. Instead the city was being torn apart in an orgy of violence, the resistance blindly fighting back wherever they could. The Broodmind was displeased. He could feel it inside his head, feel the pulsing urges to fling himself into the fight and slay any who opposed the Kiith. Yet he fought back against that compulsion. He was no drone; he had intelligence and cunning beyond his average kin. He was part of the Broodmind and it was part of him, but not all he was. He was bred to lead, not follow, and that required independence of thinking. Tyvis sought to humiliate him by making him a lowly minion but he refused to give her the satisfaction. He was going to fight this battle his way, and by winning he would earn the respect of the Grandfather. Then he would deal with Tyvis.

He glanced to his side, where a Hybrid was peering out a window through the sight of a sniper's Long-las. The weapon was a superior make to an ordinary lasrifle, as its' wielder was above his kin. Three arms for improved stability, enlarged eyes for enhanced vision and specialised lungs to minimise breathing motions. He was the perfect blend of human, genestealer and animals traits, specially honed by the Kiith to be the perfect sniper.

Odrin has been waiting for his kin to take the shot but his patience grew thin as he snapped, "Hurry up!"

"Silence," the Hybrid growled without looking around.

As another Earthshaker barrage levelled a distant part of the city Odrin risked a glance over the lintel. He was in the ground floor of an empty building, looking out over a wide section of clear ground surrounding a squat bunker. It was a typical Imperial STC design, all grey ferrocrete and narrow visions slits. Yet he knew it was more, the bevvy of comms-arrays protruding from its low roof attested to the fact it was the secondary command centre of the PDF. From here the sporadic resistance would be coordinated, the scattered troopers and pounding artillery directed from within. It was also a place their generals would flee to should their headquarters be compromised. Which it was, Odrin had seen to that.

The builders had taken no chances, no homes or businesses were allowed within rifle range of the bunker. It sat inviolate in its clear ground, confident that nothing short of heavy weapons could touch it. Thus the Hybrids were well back, far beyond the range of a normal human sniper, but the Kiith were not normal. His companion gently squeezed his trigger, sending a blazing shot through a vision slit of the distant bunker. Odrin didn't know if he had hit the heavy weapon gunner within but instantly cried, "Now!"

From surrounding buildings a dozen lascannon blasts erupted. each one from a dedicated Kiith gun-crew. Crossing the distance in an instant they slammed into the bunker and shattered the nearest wall, blowing a wide hole into the surface. Dust and grit fountained high as the wall was broken open, leaving a gaping aperture leading within. Instantly assault teams leapt into the open, sprinting for the hole with pumping arms and loping gaits. Bulky Hybrids bred for strength and ferocity ran alongside Purestrains, the deadliest of all.

Their path took them under the firearc of a defensive pillbox protrusion but it seemed the sniper had scored his target, for barely a trickle of lasfire responded. The defenders would be scrambling to get another gunner on the Heavy bolter but they had not enough time and a feeble volley coming out of the vision slits was all they managed. Odrin felt the Broodmind hammering, demanding he get up and run, but he gritted his teeth and stayed where he was. He could serve better with his intelligence not brute strength. He gripped the lintel and yelled, "Take some alive! I need prisoners!"

The assault teams poured within the bunker and a furious firefight erupted. The sounds of battle ringing forth as blood was spilt and lives ended. Odrin kept his head down for long minutes, waiting for his strategy to bear fruit and keeping the Broodmind at bay with thoughts of the larger victory he would bring. Eventually the din of battle died down and Odrin rose from cover. The Broodmind no longer pulsed in his mind, a sign that it was satisfied with the victory, for the moment. For a brief time Odrin had agency over his actions, a brief respite for him to act freely. He intended to make the most of it; he had no intention of being flung into bloody charge after bloody charge. If he had to fight this war he intended to find a way to win it his way.

From the ruins of the bunker his Hybrid kin emerged, followed by their Purestrain cousins. Their rifles were hot from discharge and their claws wet with blood. They were flushed with victory and walked with a cocky grin but that did not interest Odrin. What caught his eye was the line of prisoners trooping out, hands firmly upon their heads and eyes downcast in defeat. Odrin noted gold braiding and marks of rank upon them and spied an opportunity. Instantly he was moving, putting himself in their path. The Hybrids forced the prisoners to stop and kneel in the road as Odrin loomed over them. He counted logisticians, adjutants and Generals of the PDF, all highly valuable captives, but then his eyes settled on one individual in swathes of gold braiding and he crowed, "What's this? Clemas Bassail?"

The supreme commander of Pascum's standing army looked up with anger and snarled, "Odrin… I should have known you would throw in with scum like this."

Odrin grinned broadly at the man and replied, "You don't seem happy to see me. I am a little bit hurt."

"Not so much as you will be when I get my hands on you," Clemas spat.

Odrin snorted in amusement at the empty threat and remarked, "Such hostility, for no good reason. Have we not been colleagues and compatriots for years?"

Clemas snarled, "I should have put a lasbolt into your smug face the day I met you. I don't know how you bred this army of mutants but it will avail you not. Your treachery will be punished!"

Odrin sighed theatrically, "You waste your energies upon the wrong target. It is the Imperium that you should be raging against. They have crushed Pascum under their tyrannical boot heel, polluting our genic purity with their base ideas and stealing our youngest blood for their endless wars."

Clemas sneered, "You dare speak to me of Genic Purity?! You spit upon our way of life with your twisted abominations. My family has been loyal to the Golden Throne of Terra for millennia but you are trash, nothing but a jumped-up clerk who was let out of his cubicle. Oh yes I see the truth, you crave power for yourself. You don't care about Pascum, this is all about your ego. You're not doing this for our world, this is all about you!"

Odrin shook his head and replied, "How little you understand. Yet I was hoping you would see sense and join with us."

"Join you?!" Clemas sneered, "I am ruler-caste, defiance is bred into me. I would rather die before serving you!"

Odrin merely grinned in response as he chortled, "So stubborn, but I know a way to change your mind."

At a gesture from him the Hybrids stepped back and the Purestrains moved nearer. They loomed over the kneeling line of prisoners, standing behind them with their jaws yawning wide. The line of men sweated and moaned as they glanced backwards at the black claws and dripping fangs. They thought Odrin planned to kill them but that was not what he wanted. With a nod he signalled the Purestrains and they jerked forward, tongues stabbing out to impale each man in the back of the neck. Bulging sacs under their tongues pulsated as their ovipositors squeezed a cocktail of venoms and hormones into their victims, paralysing and debilitating like a stun dart. While the victim jerked helplessly each Genestealer implanted a tiny nodule within their bodies, a small sac of viral spores and mutagens. This was known as the Genestealer's Kiss.

The Purestrains stepped back as the men collapsed to the ground, heads swimming from the alien cocktail coursing through their bodies. They lay prone, feebly twitching and drooling as an insidious process began its work. Odrin smiled triumphantly for this was an essential part of the Kiith's reproduction. Even now the victim's genes were being rewritten, a subtle shift in their genic code that would make them carriers for the Genestealer's spawn. The offspring of those who experienced the Kiss would be born Hybrids, first-generation spawn who would join the Kiith as bosom comrades.

There was more, in order to make sure the host did not reject the offspring their minds were clouded and made to see a beautiful specimen, rather than the twisted aberration they truly were. The hosts would kill to protect their spawn; willingly serving the Broodmind without ever realising their loyalty had been subverted. It was a commonality of purpose and intent, aligning their natural impulses and drives to the service of the Broodmind. Henceforth their instinct would be to obey the Kiith, to believe whatever they were told without question and submit to the more senior members of their new family.

Odrin waved two Hybrids forward to pick up Clemas and the commander hung between them like a drunk. Odrin lifted his chin with a hand and said softly, "Clemas, you understand now, don't you?"

Clemas only slurred, "I…. waaaaaas? You…."

Odrin frowned as he pressed his point, "The Kiith are your friends."

"Friends," Clemas murmured, "Yes… we are friends."

"The Imperials are the enemy," Odrin stated, "They started this riot."

"Enemy… Imperials are the enemy," Clemas repeated hazily his eyes vague and unfocused.

"You are going to order your troops to attack the Imperials," Odrin stated.

Clemas hesitated for a moment but was helpless to resist as he repeated more firmly, "Yes, we shall fight the Imperials."

Odrin smiled broadly and waved a Hybrid nearer, one with a captured vox-set. He took the horn and held it up to Clemas' lips as he commanded, "You shall give the order: Pascum declares its independence from Terra. All PDF soldiers are to shoot the Space Marines on sight."

Clemas brow furrowed as some tiny part of him resisted but the Broodmind owned him, its tendrils caressing his mind and his lips moved according to its will, "All PDF units, this is General Clemas Bassail. The Imperium has betrayed Pascum; the Golden Throne has betrayed us. You are ordered to engage the Space Marines on sight, I repeat, kill the Imperials."

With that Odrin straightened up and grinned, the fate of the Imperial force on Pascum was sealed. They would soon find themselves inundated with enemies and overwhelmed. Surrounded and outnumbered thousands to one, even Space Marines couldn't fend off those odds. Odrin was satisfied that the tide of battle would soon turn against the Imperial scum yet his joy was short-lived, already the Broodmind was pulsing in his head, demanding he charge off to the next fight. He gritted his teeth as he fought the impulse, stopping himself running at the nearest foe. In his heart he resolved to find a way to retain control of himself and when this was all over he'd find some way to dispose of Tyvis and claim her place in the Kiith.