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Two Guardians and a Howling Banshee remained near motionless in a far corner of the main chamber of the Biocrusier. Left alone because I told everyone to do so, no interaction they were to remain deep under my control and sit there for the foreseeable future. Not because I was concerned they'd break free of the Genestealer tain somehow and start attacking anyone but because...
I just didn't want their minds to be open to everyone. Except for me, nobody really sealed themselves from the rest of the brood and were open books. While it was disturbing to see their justifications as to why being infected was the best thing to ever happen to them. The Eldar... In the lore, it's said that their species feel emotions on the scale and with such a complexity that humans cannot even begin to understand it. Yet I had a good taste of it when they were first infected, especially from the Banshee when her mind wander to her children.
I had a clear picture of what they looked like as if she had shown a photograph. They were young, barely a few cycles old and had just gotten their tutors before she left to answer the call to war from her shrine. Dawning her war mask and brushing them aside for the time being she would return. She had to return, for them without a father. Yet the Farseer had asked more of her shrine and she wouldn't leave them to face this new for alone. Despite her reservations about not fulfilling her promise to be back soon. A decision that occupied the forefront of her mind the second the Genestealer's tongue pierced her body. Sorrow for the times she would miss, the experiences of motherhood robbed by the creature far behind the one injecting her with fluids. Even as her mind clouded and her sense of self began to fade or perhaps receed to be rewritten.
To have that memory of her young not removed but distorted. To fight and fail to retain them as her children, her spawn, her life still on Iyanden. Changed to appear to be flawed creations of a flawed being now made pure to Perhaps even sharing this gift with the ones she once viewed as her own-
It was only a few seconds...
A measly glimpse into her mind revealed so much and flooded my senses. It was like someone took a bowl filled with emotional baggage and flipped it over a shot glass. I didn't know anything else beyond that brief flood of emotions, just that I did not want to infect anymore Eldar to experience such a surge again. So they were left and after those memories flooded back to me, I decided to head into the maelstrom of Hybrids instead.
Maelstrom was the best term to describe what this place had turned into. There were so many Hybrids milling around, chatting, laughing, and lazing about. The older ones immediately became enamored with their new kin and dispersed among them to check and say hi. It felt good to experience this all at once, the link allowing me to hear and feel every emotion and conversation straight away. Some talked and asked what Caldaris was like, and if its desert complexion was as hot as people say. Others replied and inquired about the jungles of Typhon and what having all the greenery was really like. So many people who'd never left their home worlds are now able to get the sights and feels from their fellows. The large chamber we were in might have echoed all these worlds and mixed them but the fleshy walls made fairly good sound absorbers.
The Guardsmen from the 85th Vendoland Regiment recounted anyone who asked about stories fighting Eldar at Angle Forge. Or any number of Ork wreaking havoc on Meridian before they got transferred to Caldaris. Able to give a better feel for events with the sights and images passed by the synaptic link. Most listening had a mixture of both fright and awe by the tales regaled. Near the summit of the mount, central to the room, Merrick and Norma lay close chatting as well. I made a beeline towards the most familiar faces, while I could experience everyone, everywhere, all at once.
Nothing could beat an actual conversation.
"Hello you two," I said slipping past a dozen or so other Hybrids strewed about to take up my spot at the very top. My back arched a bit cause of the angle but it never the less felt great to be off my feet. "How have you been setting in Merrick?"
"Just fine sir, still a little too hot in here for my liking." He shrugged. "Better than a bloody desert world though."
Norma smiled warmly, a hit of humor crossed her mind as she answered. "Merrick here was just telling me about your first taste of sweet and sour Grox-"
"And just like that, you've lost points with me, Merrick." That whole event where no one told him he chose just about the worse ration pack from the roster. They genuinely tried to keep quiet about it as a prank, might as well let me eat literal garbage. "Well no more Imperial Guard rations, now it's just nutritious paste all around."
"I'm sure it's better than whatever the munitorum calls food. I bet all they eat is old scrolls and candle wax, don't know what a real meal even is." Merrick spoke with the tone of a man who relished the idea that he could finally air some grievances about the Imperium. "I mean who the hell sends winter coats and boots to men stationed on a Jungle world? Or when they give us crates of ammo for auto guns when we've got Lasguns with rechargeable power cells. Moreover, why say our rations were out of date and try to recall and replace them when it says they've still got a decade to go!"
Norma and I laughed, it sounded absurd but this is 40k. The Imperium's bureaucracy was such a mess, often Imperial Guard Regiments needed to requisition civilian ships just to get around. Cause the Munitorum took forever to process any sort of request unless someone could cut past the red tape.
As nice as this was it wouldn't last, once we reached our destination it will be war and death against the Eldar. I had to be ready to face whatever tricks and military hardware they'd throw at me. Plus get myself ready for the fight with Farseer Tuirin. Being the only bait he'd dare to come out and face personally, I was certain about that.
I had Guardsmen, genuine soldiers who'd seen action against real threats, not just hired guns like Absalom's security guys. If I wanted to lure Tuirin into a trap I'd need to last long enough to do that. Not just get run through with a spear a few seconds in. Those Guardsmen I... killed at that Oasis weren't going to be nearly as quick and agile as the Eldar would be. My clumsy fight with those troopers wouldn't compare to what would go down when we made planetfall.
"I have Aspect warriors that have trained for decades maybe even centuries. If there's anyone to practice on to get ready to deal with Eldar gunning for me, it's them."
Who's to say Merrick and the Banshee didn't both have something to teach me?
"Hell those Eldar guns, blades, and Grenades I have can be of use to me now that I have something who can use them."
The more I thought about it the more joyous I got for the schedule I would craft for myself and the sheer amount of time I'd have to devote to making myself stronger. Having something to do, even if it was busy work in preparation for a massive war that could get me killed made me happy for some reason. Perhaps the chance to greatly grow my odds at survival and protecting everyone here gave me enthusiasm for learning how to swing a sword. Or perhaps it helped justify the past few day's events by making use of the people whose lives I... may have stolen.
I sat up, glazing over the sizable collection of Hybrids I'd seen up to this point. Many of which were of my own making and they'd gotten past the disorientating first hours of injection to become proper Hybrids. Which is to say, like every other Hybrid currently present acts. Wandering about to act as if we were one massive extended family of cousins, siblings, and parents that existed to only grew larger. Except not right now because the Great Carrier said no to making any babies for some inexplicable reason, other than it's the Great Carrier's will. Now some were supposed to be training our messiah how to fight because that makes sense right?
I've just invaded an Imperial world and undoubtedly gotten my fleet onto some kind of a watchlist. Plus killed a lot of innocent people whose crime was trying to fight against a force of ravenous beasts. So they had to die. And the Guardsmen I had infected on mass had to be said they too were in my way... I guess they'll have a decent life on some green planet on the fringes of space that I'll be taking over when I get there.
"What will the end result of me being alive here really be...?" I wondered aloud to a room full of people who could never understand what I was feeling anymore. Confusion already settled into the minds of those that heard me.
Would I ever achieve the goal of building some kind of future for the Hybrids? Or spend the rest of my life running from sector to sector until I ran into something stronger enough to kill me or I couldn't out whit.
I didn't know... Just that for how that Eldar seer's path was an obstacle in mine. Whatever he was doing would be to take me out, of that I was certain... Whatever I was doing beyond this point required me to take him out as well. A fate he was the cause of. It was just a matter of how many bodies either of us were gonna use to achieve those goals...
"Fuck, why couldn't I just get dropped in Fantasy?"
Farseer Tuirin sat upon his knees deep within the Crusier, situated in the chambers provided for him to transportation to their Exodite kin. Then whisked away to fulfill his new goal of slaying the Devourer's spawn. The ignorant might consider him in the act of praying, yet it was more of a deep meditation. To focus every part of his mind and soul on the previous attack on the Scion of the Devourer. It had not gone well if one sought to put the massacre on Calderis with the mildest use of the term. It was fortunate as a seer he could seal himself away in such a manner, for meditations and divinations but really. He was here contemplating what he could possibly do now.
When encountering the challenge to battle by the Scion of the Devourer Tuirin was put out by the event. As permitting him to know where the primary intelligence of the Hivemind was to defend more of its pawns defiled known encounters with them. Hive Tyrants are known for sacrificing entire armies to defend themselves. Unusual yet even if the Hybrids within the mine were of great importance to the Great Devourer's plans it was the scion that held the greater strains of the future tied to its fate. If it died then the future he had seen would be severed. Even if some of it passed onto them, Iyanden's blades could easily be turned on them afterwards. So he ordered the bulk of the force to advance on its position, a simple matter was the psychic shriek it made could have been felt across half the planet.
Tuirin had been cautious, the ambush and sudden counterattack on his first attempt on the Scion's life within the Ork Cruiser. In addition to how it combatted the Orks taught him this creature had cunning within. Treading lightly upon its fortified den even if it was lacking, compared to his own force, proved wise. As it laid a trap that could have claimed many lives. In the end, it mattered not when he felt the shadow. As the skies were blackened by the teeming hordes of a Splinter Fleet coming to sink its claws into the planet and drain it. Tuirin was helpless to stop his warriors from being decimated in the opening minutes. Fleeing with whoever could follow back to the ship, broken but perhaps not fated to be observers of the slaughter of humanity upon the sands of this world. If mankind could be roused and perhaps allowed a reprieve from Alaitoc's assault, then maybe their fleets and armies could either slay the foe for him. Or simply cause as much damage as they could to weaken the fleet overall.
An undertaking that gave Tuirin a vain sense of hope for success. As with so many threats to deal with and the great undertaking to convince his kin from Alaitoc to suddenly cease their assault. It was a plan that held far less merit than Tuirin attacking this foe directly with what he had. It was the only thing left for him to do, as leaving the Scion of the Devourer to their own devices was dangerous. Killing this threat quickly wasn't the best choice but the only course to take, ending the scourge of the eastern fringes before it became that.
Yet before the Farseer could so much as attempt contact with Alaitoc. He stepped onto the Cruiser to hear that the Scion had left the planet and appeared to be fleeing the system. Confirmed minutes later by the fleet flinging itself away with such force that it blew back the Imperial fleet by a considerable length. More strange behavior from the Scion, this star system was in chaos and a plum target for consumption.
Did it not know the state of this place? Or was leaving all this biomass behind a part of some strategy he did not understand?
According to intercepted Imperial transmissions, all of the warrior forms left upon Caldaris surface had either torn each other apart or allowed themselves to be slain. Leaving mounds of corpses and confused mon'keigh, unsure as to what had occurred nor how to proceed. A sentiment Farseer Tuirin found himself sharing. Hence why he enclosed himself within his meditation chambers to lock himself within his mind and ensure he would not be disturbed. To wonder just what had occurred down there...
"The Hivemind of the Tyranid race is a malignant threat to the galaxy, it infests worlds with Genestealers. Floods its biosphere with microscopic organisms to prepare them for consumption. All with a great intelligence that oversees millions or even billions of organisms with little noticeable effort." They were an extragalactic force, alien to the emotions and complex sapien thoughts life had here. Only able to understand them so far as to manipulate them against the inhabitants of the universe to turn them into simpler or even docile prey.
"What is your problem with me Eldar of Iyanden? Is this revenge for what happened to your Craftworld? I had nothing to do with that nor did I want to hurt any of your Exodite cousins! Is it so much to ask to be left alone here?"
Yet there was this creature communicating with such sincerity and oddities... The words it spoke sounded sincere, the two had been communicating through their minds and it was not as closed off as others the seer had faced. Tuirin felt as if the creature truly cared about the Hybrid thralls, it seems to only care about their safety. Much like that one he traded for, at first Tuirin assumed it a trick but the woman was truly free of the Devourer's taint. No ploy to spread its infection further nor had it ever attempted to locate the Exodites. He had also asked for their aide to deal with the Orks. Then left without a second thought... Come to think of it, they had tried to give them the Spirit Stones of Iyanden's sons and daughters when they assaulted the mine.
The action was dismissed at first but-
Tuirin shook his head, as odd as these occurrences were unusual but that should be expected for the first creature or its type. He would not allow this to cloud his judgment. Tuirin was a Farseer of Iyanden and they knew better than any other the dangers posed by the Tyranids. His force was battered and bloody and he would need to explain his actions to the seer council for crafting this unsanctioned mission especially after failing so spectacularly in it.
"I have some allies and comrades aboard the craftworld." They would not be his salvation but perhaps it would be enough to plead his case before them. His fight was not over, not if he had any amount of say in the manner.
Hovering over the spawning pool waiting for the final preparations on my newest creation to finally gestate. The ship had poured as much attention as it could to shorten the time needed to get this one out so I could finally test the thing. It was almost done in the cooker and a little test had been set up in the long hall just outside. While waiting for these final moments, I thought about what other Tyranid creatures I would need for the coming invasion.
"More carnifexes for sure, their Wraithguards and lords could be an issue if I can't get a country ready. Especially any tanks they might bring to bere. Air units like bombers could be a pain to deal with."
I wondered for a moment if I had any air units to counter them because Gargoyles were not going to be fast enough to chase down aircraft like that. Transports maybe but bombers or even fighters would require a purpose build counter I wasn't even sure I had. It was something to look into in a second as my latest addition to the brood was ready. Breaking free of the sack that fed and incubated it, the critter pushed up on its legs and erupted out of the water. More ripples expanded as it waded through the greenish pool and out to stand before me. Soaking wet in both the odd nutrition water and slick fluids from its incubation chamber. Far more vicious and sticky and it had to shake much of it off, to my dismay some of it landed over me.
"Great, and I don't even have a place to wash any of this stuff off at." It was something I'd have to roll with, for now, it didn't smell that bad.
The creature looked little like the Termagant it was based on. Its main body had a hunched back shielding its soft tissue and muscles for the absorption of a great force. Four legs bulging with more mass than the lithe and athletic ones Termagants usually owned. The hind ones had great hooves instead of the typical clawed feet, situated behind the main body to brace it when firing. While the front legs were slightly thinner on the front that yet had two large curved claws. Designed to dig into the ground anchoring the creature in place for firing. The arms were enhanced with further muscle and soft tissue bulging around the long-barred rifle that its whole body was redesigned to use. It was just the head that gave any indication as to the creature the Longgaunt was derived from.
Snipergaunt didn't roll off the tongue as easily as Longgaunt did and it was an accurate enough for a name. The long barrel, greater in length than two standard Termagant rifles lined up next to one another, was its entire purpose. Although even with its dual arms strengthened the creature had a difficult time trying to hold the weapon. Holding the large bulbous rear of the weapon and leaving the barrel to point high. Dropping it might drag the Longgauny with it as multiple tubes linking the weapon's life to its welder were quite short.
"Well, it's time to test the thing, see what kinks need working out." That was the whole reason why I had this one pressed out in an hour or so.
I led the thing out of the chamber and turned left to take it further down the hall. Behind us were five Termagants holding empty tin cans in one clawed hand while facing the fleshy wall. The idea was to see if the aim of the Longgaunt was good with its twin Lictors eyes at several dozen yards away. Its aim-assisted projectile should help make the hit easy but if nothing ever had teething problems people wouldn't test-run new tech.
The Longgaunt braced itself to the hardened floor, I didn't allow it to even try and dig in with its front clawed feet. If it could fire on this fairly smooth surface then the Longgaunt could fire anywhere planetside. Such as when my dad made me learn how to balance on a bike atop the uneven ground. If it was too easy that would have been fine but placing me in a harder scenario ensured I'd be ready for any bumpy ground. I gave the order to hit the one furthest to the left and Longgaunt tried to level the rifle towards its target.
I frowned as the weight of the back of the weapon stalled it for a few minutes as it tried to aim it forwards without falling to its face. If the bioform was having so much trouble to where it had to arch its back just to point the thing straight ahead there was a problem here.
"I had the ship scale down the Centaur's cannon to something a gaunt to wield. Being incapable of misinterpreting me this was the best it could do with the instructions given." Perhaps there was a good reason why the Hive mind tends to just absorb and mix the DNA of eaten species. Then made something new from that, instead of mixing and mashing parts together as if this is Skylanders swap force.
The Longgaunt finally got its arms and hands situated around the bottom of the weapon and aimed directly ahead of it. I felt the slight adjustments made to center the weapon as best it could on the can down the hall. Making full use of the dim light to see it clearly. Pressure built around its long pointed shot, the final seconds before firing were tense as I wondered if it could handle the process. With a violent burst of force, an object exited the barrel with leftover juices squirting out of it. Like jumping atop a water bottle with the cap loosened, the projective soared at great speeds as it had with Centaur cannons. The round hit true and tore the item away from the clawed pedestal, the stale air blew past as well, such was the force of the weapon.
It also moved the Longgaunt back a few inches, not much and it fumbled with the rifle and took a few seconds to realine itself.
That wouldn't do.
"It's gonna need more arms to carry this thing around." That much was obvious in the half a minute the Longgaunt spent preparing the weapon for firing. Would be better time spent actually aiming and shooting at someone, thusly it needed two lower arms to do their jobs right. I took a moment to check the Lictor chameleon scales embedded into its body and they shimmered and functioned just the same if not worse. Which made sense as they weren't Lictors but were made to shoot at long range so it didn't matter that much. I sent the critter off the be recycled, and necessary changes to be made with the rest of the Long gaunts.
Then it was time to turn back to the previous thought I had beforehand.
"If they have air support and just start bombing my forces, horde tactics would lose a lot of their steam."
A real countermeasure was needed to prevent their jet craft from dominating the skies.
"Pods of spore mines to rain acid dead on positions, Lictors and Raveners to move ahead and rip apart any scouts and sniff out any scouts. Carnifex and Centaurs to break apart any armored units or punch through defensive positions. Gaunts and Gargoyles swarm over and soak up shots. And I think it's about time I check out that massive creature the Ork genes gave me all that time ago."
The thing was huge and mounted a large cannon in its back, larger than what the Centaur welded. If what the ship was telling me could be believed, I had little to no reason to doubt it. Whatever it was I would find a use for it in the coming invasion, all these bioforms were my brood. My nervous system, blood, and tissue now, all serving a function that would lead to the Farseer's death a d the breaking of whatever Warhost and army Iyanden dared to give him to hunt me down.
"I get it, I'm a Tyranid and there's no being seen as anything else. That craftworld in particular had the good sense to fear whatever I could be, but that didn't mean I was gonna give them a pass."
These are my people now, and I'll be damned if I let them get hurt from being too trusting and soft again.