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Training with the Banshee sucked, it was her showing me what to do and giving pointers in stance and movement. Followed by me getting knocked on my rear as she'd go on to demonstrate something on me. It was a long painful day of getting the wind knocked out of me and sensing the amused glances and whisperings of the Hybrids. It sucked... In a couple of hours, I was laid flat on my back aiming to sleep, ignoring the prototype Scourges ready for review. The morning or evening, or whatever time it could be that I work up to, left me wanting to procrastinate the next session for as long as possible. I couldn't claim to be sore as my bodily enhancements allowed me to weather the beatings, if not the embarrassment, and get back into the fray.
Checking in on the Scourges was the best way to put in off and it was important. So after getting my fill of nutrient mush I set out to check on my possible anti-air option. This time though, I had to wade through the spawning pool to reach my latest creation as it floundered about unable to stand or swing. As it only had its wings for appendages, the pool's fluids splashed about as it tried not to drown in the liquid that aided in giving it life. Calming down only when I reached the thing and pulled its head above the water and against my chest. The thing was about four feet in length and had a thin upper body about half a foot wide while towards its back held four wings. Two forewings connected to the mid-way point between the head and the acid sack and hindwings positioned back a bit to aid in flight.
Its wings weren't like the bat ones used by Gargoyles, these were intended for quickly zipping through the air. They might not be as maneuverable as Gargoyles or other aerial types of 'nids. But they were supposed to be fast enough and in great numbers to swarm over any aircraft dumb enough to head through the skies contested by them.
"At least that's the plan, I won't know if that's the case until I can test them." I thought as I stepped out kg the pool and set the thing down. It shook to throw off the water, the leathery skin of all Tyranid bioforms made that easy enough.
Anything I was making would have to face a trial by fire. Where failure would cause problems for me if they couldn't do the job I needed. Looking at the prototype Scourge I wasn't able to tell right away if it was a worthy investment or not. The creature was about the size of my chest with a bulbous back that I intentionally had it leave empty to not be standing next to a bomb. Of which didn't have centuries or even millenniums of development and use to perfect it as the Spore Mines. Best to keep the acid sacks empty before I even knew if the Scourge could fly.
I aided the 'nid by raising it above my head and letting it vibrate its wings. Each we're a few inches long and modeled heavily after the ones the Beetle ammo some Termagant guns fired. I tossed it into the air and it was just barely able to keep itself from slamming into the ground. Swinging back up in a low arc stopping just short of the ceiling.
"Future Scourges might need some more wings if having trouble flying now it might not be able to hold its payload well."
Other than that I felt relief seeing it hover around the room trying to keep its pointed head and body straight and level. Now it was onto making the nests. I supposed nothing too complicated was needed, the Scourge here was barely staying alive as it, sure it had a few internal organs to help it survive but it wasn't gonna last long. I could feel it on a time limit of a couple of hours at best., So somewhere to house and feed them was needed. Modifying the chamber of the Centaur's main cannon to expand into something massive to house loads of these things and shoot them out once air forces started getting involved. The basic firing mechanism of the Centaur's cannon would do but I would like to see if I could get in more rapid fire. Or at least an increased enough rate, something like numerous glands bunched up to launch the Scourges outta many exit holes. While it anchored into and leeched minerals from the soil to mass these units within.
"Eh, but that happens if Capillary towers leech away most of the stuff or the nests drains away the surrounding area on their own..." At that point, it'd be a useless sack of meat holding an anti-air unit that would be slowly killing it. Although the Capillary towers connect to ships in orbit or to spacing pools at the base of the towers. Who's to say that tendrils can't extend out to them? By the time resources have dwindled in the Scourge Nests' general vicinity the towers themselves would be high enough to reach out small veins to support hundreds of I'm such nests.
Yes, that could work to keep the skies contested for as long as possible. Keep air units from just dominating the battlefield, leveling things out, and working towards grinding any Warhost with attrition. Inevitably drawing Farseer Tuirin to a desperate dual against me.
I sighed, that being done I had to get back to training with the Banshee. I reminded myself that Tuirin sure as hell isn't gonna go easy on me. I had to train if the plan was going to work and if I could defend myself better then that wasn't exactly a bad thing was it? I summoned my teacher and main for the common room to get my ass handed to me for the next few hours.
"God isn't this still gonna suck though..."
The sleek white Wraithbone shined under the artificial light as Tuirin finished with the polish. The gemstones gleaned as of they were just placed on his chest plate, the whole set was now gleaning like it was newly fashioned. Even if the armor he wore was several centuries old and had seen more than a few previous owners, good maintenance and materials aided in preserving it. After all, it wouldn't do well for a Farseer to look unpresentable when he reach Iyanden and found himself facing several other such seers. All demanded to know why he had expanded his Warhost's mandate beyond its original purpose without consulting anyone.
The Scion of the Devourer had grown in strength, the exact thing Tuirin feared would happen had he not acted quickly. He should have struck while he had the full might of the Warhost and the Scion in a somewhat vulnerable state. Yet there were a few good reasons as to why he couldn't and didn't. Mainly there was the treaty Iyanden had with the Exodites, they insisted to do along with Eldor's plan to use the Tyranids to finally break the far more entrenched Ork menace. It wasn't his place to make new enemies for his cousins before that threat was dealt with.
"Foolish, that was the best chance to end the threat before it could fester. Now it shall take a considerably sized force to destroy." He thought bitterly, what was one strained treaty with Exodites worth compared to what the Scion posed?
To gather the warriors and resources to slay it now would require dealing with the council... and their reservations about what he did. Speaking of which, they had entered the Webway now and were speeding towards the Craftworld. The sooner they got there the quicker Tuirin could deal with the council and convince them of his visions and finally gather what was needed into a mighty Warhost. First, Tuirin placed the armored plating and donned his newly cleaned Farseer robes, no one needed to have those adhesived on at all times. Then made his way out to sit and concentrate, letting his mind wander to find his oldest ally. Within the Webway it was easier to project oneself like this, which isn't to say it wasn't difficult. Just that having his Psychic prowess and the mystical tapestry of the Labyrinthine Dimension, made it possible to do this without it being considered stupidly dangerous.
He wanted to know what he was heading into. From long experience, Tuirin knew the general mood of the Seer council should always be considered. While the communications of the ship could reach Iyanden asking to hear from his old master could cause other seers to invite themselves. Discussing the hearing before Tuirin had even caught sight of the Craftworld and it would be better to have an advantage beforehand.
Tuirin sat motionless seeking the one mind he wished to speak with. To an outside observer, it might look as if he was motionless as a shaped Wraithbone statue. But those who walked the path of the witch could say, he was pushing his mind and pressing his body. With practice the Farseer carefully pushed himself without reaching his limit, his heart was gradually getting faster and his breathing shook for a moment as the connection was made. The power of the Empyrean wavered as his teacher was undoubtedly confused by the sudden intrusion on her mind. Kellith would not appreciate the ancient bond of student and master being used like this but Tuirin had no better options.
He begin to waver under the distance the link needed to travel waiting and silently hoping she would recognize Tuirin's mind. Then forgive him enough to add her own power to fashion the link better and share the strain. Minutes dragged on as sweat began to gather on his forehead and his mind began to spin. Either she was too busy to notice his attempts at establishing telepathic communication or she was allowing him to suffer for a time to punish him.
Soon enough Kellith locked on and relieved much of the strain, Tuirin's stillness was broken by a breathy sigh.
"To what do I own this unexpected pleasure from you child?" Her tone expressed exhaustion, Kellith may have been sleeping when he disturbed her. Not ideal but he would have to make it work.
"It is good to feel your presence once more, I am returning to the Craftworld with my vessel and warriors. I have urgent business to discuss with you my friend beforehand." Tuirin said hoping to soothe her mood with a gracious tone to his voice
"Oh? Pray tell, what could warrant the need to wake me so late?" It failed as Kellith returned the gesture with a sharp snark to her own words.
She was never the most patient of Seers, it was why she was the best teacher for Tuirin and later, ally. They were both of the mind that taking swift action against threats to Iyanden was the best way to ensure the Craftworld's survival. Bogging everything down in lengthy meetings to determine the worthiness of committing to a cause. While he understood the need, could only stymie their ability to act decisively. Kellith was also one of the oldest Farseers still active on the council after Hivefleet Kraken reduced their numbers greatly. The degree of respect and experience she held gave Kellith great sway, although it was good to note she wasn't the deciding voice. Nor did everyone agree with her and his ideas for how to spend the Craftworld's resources and people.
"I bring-" He began but was cut off.
"Allow me to guess, you've failed in whatever quest you deemed important enough to take a Warhost on and now seek to beg for assistance?" It sounded like Kellith was annoyed about something beyond Tuirin waking her in such a manner. "Wish to know what sort of cold reception to expect after avoiding the summons of the Council, hm? Not caring to even inform myself about some foray to hunt down a Splinter fleet of the Great Devourer."
"Decisive action was needed. I apologize for not sending word, but my visions were dire and I felt the need for haste was far more important."
"Yes, well it was difficult to convey anything of the sort to the rest of the Council. Many of which merely saw a grief-stricken Farseer whisking away a Warhost of Iyanden. To fulfill a personal quest for vengeance against the Great Devourer." If Kellith could detect the spike of rage then quick suppression of the emotion by Tuirin. She gave no sign of it. He calmed himself as his ire was unnecessary especially because his old teacher was not the one who made those comments. Just conveyed them back with a tight degree of snark behind the words.
"I supposed I should be grateful you held enough wisdom to disband the Warhist proper and only take willing volunteers." She seemed to leave a note of amiability hanging in her words for a moment.
Tuirin had disbanded the Warhost and asked for volunteers specifically to avoid trouble with the Seer Council. He had performed his mandate to honor the treaty and protect the Exodites. Once the Scion had left the world and the system, Tuirin had set out to only take those that gave themselves willingly. That way no one could say he abused his position by forcing the Warhost to chance the Hiveships without permission. All had followed, fought, and died after agreeing to join him, therefore no one could technically fault him for that.
Yet everyone would know better, if he could have he would have taken any excuse to bring the entire force to bear. There just wasn't any, so Tuirin superseded the Council the only way he could given the circumstances. Not to mention that while it was mainly volunteers, they had the colors of and insignia of Iyanden, and were led by one of their Farseers. To any watching them it would undoubtedly look like a strike force of the Craftworld, the Alaitoc forces he met with within the Auralian system certainly saw it that way...
"Yes, there are many who would judge my action as being out of line. As they have with yours, that is what I beseech your assistance before I make my return. To rally our faction and prepare for my case as I have done to you and the others. There is a grave threat to the Galaxy at large and it is to our people that the task falls to remove it."
"Yes, when has it ever been different of Iyanden? Recent times notwithstanding, of course." She groaned, mind still in the process of awakening. "Tell me what plans and actions you have taken, I must precisely know what they are before the council proper catches sent of it."
Understandable, Kellith would want to know if he had overstepped this authority or pressed for an illegal action. Failing that there was no way for anyone to help Tuirin if they didn't know what they were defending. So he told her of his encounter with the Scion, its unusual behavior with Eldor. Strange tactics and strategies, mutations to its body, and a bizarre desire to rescue Hybrids. Tuirin spoke of the Great Devourer changing once more, another adapting response to the stance defense of their Universe by its natives. The need to kill it while an infant and the potential devastation leaving the Scion about could cause if left unchecked and the necessity in his attempt to do just that.
"I have yet to overstep my position, nor do I plan to. I am no fool Kellith, I fully intend to argue my case before the Seer Council and be granted the resources to finish what I started."
A long pause followed, silent and still. Tuirin wondered if he should have made his excuses and spoken with Kellith later. When he was not intruding on the elder's rest.
"What creatures have this splinter fleet released or what path shall or take that has spurred on this drive to see it destroyed?" Her attention finally centered on her long-passed student.
"I shall have the visions with you properly when we meet. Until then I require any aid to expedite the campaign for warriors and ships."
"Finish what you have started, you say, yet from your tale, it appears little progress has been made." She said sadly. "May have died, volunteered or not Young one. There will be consequences for not bringing your visions to the Council in the first place."
"This call for decisive action, not meetings to discuss how to deal with-"
"I know child, though it is not I that shall need convincing."
He knew what she meant, no matter what he did to ensure his actions weren't punishable by the laws of Iyanden. He still went around the Council just to fail miserably then come racing back to request for a new Warhost raised and fleet gathered. It would not look good for his reputation.
"All I require is a fair chance to discuss my vision and the threat. To prepare against any move they plan to make. To explain what it is we face and to know what my opposition brings to bare against me."
"Then you shall child, I will aim to do as needed. If this foe is truly a threat then let us organize to stand against it. Gather what we can and beg for what we cannot."
"As always, thank you Kellith."
The connection was severed by her without a word, perhaps still annoyed at waking her like this. Tuirin's body shook for a moment and he exhaled as his body became fully animated once more. His mind, as well as Kellith's would be pounding for a time but it was worth the effort and strain. Wiping a thick layer of sweat from his brow he carefully stood to orientate his mind and body. Sometimes a Seer could be at this for hours and not know it, the body ached both from the stillness and strain placed upon it.
While he took a moment to steady himself, Tuirin took heart in this decisiveness, there would be no great Tyranid menace gathering while he lived. No matter what happened he would oppose the Scion, never allowing it to fester its blight upon the Galaxy they live on. No new Leviathan feasting on galaxies biomass and expanding into a vicious monster within, like cancer left untreated.
"The Scion shall find that I will not always be as unprepared for its tricks next time we face in battle."
Then Tuirin would cut him out of the Universe's stage.
My back impacted the curved mound, letting my fingers loosen around the blade and letting it slide out from my grip. Sore once more simply crossed my arm over my eyes and tried to tune out the noise of the room. It was already day too and he was done with this brutal way his training regiments were panning out to be.
"Tuirin won't go easy on you, and you gotta take him out to prevent him from becoming a reoccurring problem." I thought grimly, understanding the necessity of this sword training.
Yet that didn't mean I had to enjoy how things had to be. So I would bitch and complain all I wanted here. This was going to be a long process, Tuirin's going to be surprised to find out I wasn't completely static throughout this spat.
"Although... I wonder if he is either...?"