By Halberd
In the distance, it could see the otherlife. See it long before the others. It could sense an alien presence, a psychic aura, an otherlife. Otherlife, it reasoned, was the only reason to Be. Without it, without something to do, existence would be without purpose. The Hive Tyrant had spent many centuries pondering this very thought, and had long ago come to the conclusion that hunting prey-that-fought was the only reason to live. The Tyrant shifted its massive bulk, and in harmony the Gaunts that surrounded it did the same.
Why, it wondered, did the prey fight? It fought for the same reason a Tyranid would fight – to stay alive. To avoid death. But why did the prey wish to live, when the life it lead had no meaning? This was not something the Tyrant understood. Otherlife was never powerful, never provided any resistance. And the otherlife that arrayed itself so proudly now on the horizon, would die eventually. If not slaughtered in the coming battle, then of age, something the Tyranid feared not. The Tyranid race merely consumed otherlife, removing the universe of the virus. But there would always be more otherlife to battle. Always. And this otherlife, small red dots in the distance, would not make any difference.
The Tyrant let the Hive Mind embrace it. The Hive Mind knew all…
The otherlife was near now. The Tyrant could smell their stench, the
stench of prey. The Hive Mind relayed itself through the massive Synapse
creature. Gaunts, you move over there. No. Not what I want. That way. So
be it. Gaunts, over there. The Gaunts duly obeyed.
Warriors, you will surprise them. Take flight! The Tyranid Warriors, hissing and screeching, opened their huge purple wings and flapped into the air, razor-sharp claws glinting in the sunlight.
Yes, thought the Tyrant. More prey to… catch. A fight. A battle. The red otherlife knows nothing of war. Now we will commence!
Not yet, stay still. Lictor, over there. You, that way. You go there
and you go there. Now.
The Lictor crept forward, slowly, slowly. No disturbance. Yes, in those bushes. A good place to hide.
Now is your time. Go! Devour for me! Devour for your creator!
Dozens of scuttling Gaunts moved with amazing speed through the
undergrowth, bursting out into the light, and onto an open plain. Above them,
screaming their authority, flew the Warriors, elite fighting machines that lived
only to slay. And behind them all, the rest of the swarm, lumbering beasts bred
for combat, and the Hive Tyrant itself. All bowling forwards. Yes, full
speed.
In the distance, the Blood Angels grimaced. Such a vast swarm had not been anticipated. Oh, well, thought their leader. More bugs to crush. There was blood in his voice as he yelled “Fire, in the name of the Emperor, fire!”
A monsoon of bullets fell upon the Tyranids. Gaunts fell, writhing in agony as their twisted torsos exploded, showering their fellows with thick black slime. But there were always plenty more Gaunts.
“No, no! Redirect your fire! Redirect! Aim for the big ones!”
Some of the Marines heeded this desperate warning and changed positions, their bullets rattling off the hardened carapace of such beasts as the Tyrant and Carnifex. This only served to enrage the monsters more.
All of the tanks’ guns were pumping lead, missiles and lasers into the ranks of the bugs. Flashes of blue and white impacted upon the desert sand, sending out a massive spray of dirt and grime, collapsing the bodies of nearby Gaunts. But all the time, the Tyranids were getting closer. Closer and closer.
It wasn’t long before the first wave of Gaunts struck.
“Kill them! Kill them all! In the name of the Emperor!”
Claws and teeth clashed upon metal and skin. Rending, tearing their way forward, several Marines fell in the press of bodies. As the first wave hit, the Rhino and Landspeeder charged away across the flanks, the Landspeeder crew cursing and yelling as they split open bug bodies with their powerful guns.
The Gaunts were being beaten back, and the Hive Tyrant felt it. On the left, it saw a Dreadnaught lumbering across the field, punching holes through the Genestealers that had crept up to assault the main lines. Far away to its’ right, heavily armoured Terminators were smashing the servants of the Great Devourer to pulp, howling their battle cries and levelling their weapons as the next wave of monsters hit them. But what was this speeding towards it? Some red beast, with huge gaping teeth. Well, a worthy opponent.
Amid the chaos, a lone purple figure had gone unnoticed. It crept through the bushes, quietly, quietly. Sniffing the air with hideous feelers, it knew that the time was right. Now! With a hooked claw it swept through the undergrowth and dragged a Marine to down before slamming him against the ground and carving apart his armour with acid-covered talons. The other Marines now found themselves fighting foes on both sides. “Get it!” The Lictor disappeared under a mass of red bodies.
The Death Company poured out of their Rhino, ready for battle and longing for their weapons to taste blood, whatever colour it was, once more. Screaming in anger, a terrible thirst taking control of them, they hurled themselves at the Tyrant, formidable as it seemed. Dodging their clumsy blows, the Tyrant escaped unscathed, only to retaliate with a flurry of blows that severed heads from bodies and sent tough Blood Angels crashing into the sand.
A purple figure emerged from a mountain of red bodies. Some of them were still alive, moaning in pain. Others had had their face-plates caved in or their arms torn off. Prey-that-fought did not fight well enough, it seemed.
The Death Company was undeterred. The survivors scythed through the air in deadly arcs of death, smashing into the Tyrant with the force of ten men. It found itself being pulled down slowly by the press of Marines. Flailing it’s wickedly barbed talons, many more of the Emperors’ Children were sent to join him, impaled or cut in half, blood spattering over their brothers, darkening the red armour. But it was to no avail. Badly wounded, it finally shrugged off the otherlife, staggering about, stabbing at the fallen, screeching in pain, then collapsing upon the scorching desert sand.
All around, Tyranids were fleeing. They didn’t know what to do without the guidance of the Hive Mind. Some of the larger ones fought on though, caring not how the battle fared for them. They lived only for this. The Carnifex fell at last, although in its’ death throes it still felled many men…
The death toll of the battle was immense. Only the leader of the Space Marines and a few hardened veterans had escaped with their lives. Finally, as the sun set upon the desert, cold night winds stirring the sand, they departed to their ship, mourning the dead, vowing revenge.
In a dark breeding ground, aboard a gigantic Hive Ship, a Hive Tyrant was spawned. Welcome back. Ah yes. The prey-that fought had put up a good fight. Next time would be different…