A few days later, news filtered through that the Tyranid swarm had entered the star system. In just a few hours their attack will have started. The Ambassador’s ship had left orbit.
Timothy felt so alive. Life felt good. The faces of dread on those around him could not quell his spirits. This was what he had been born to do.
He went straight to the command to view its screens of what was happening across the planet. Uisneach’s generals had been well informed of exactly how matters would progress. It had been a shock for them at the meeting when he informed them that Tyrranids in human form were already walking among them. They were here to sew dissent among the masses and to launch suicidal attacks on critical infrastructure such as the power grip and key communication installations just prior to the main attack.
They had listened. Their doctors postulated that they could be rooted out through a blood test. A back story was then fabricated about the population needing to receive a vaccine. What followed was a series of attacks against the injection centers. Horrific pictures were beamed across the planet of father’s carrying blood soaked children in their arms, of mother wailing over small bodies. But from a military perspective, it was a total success. Nothing of military or strategic value had been lost, and the Tyranid first wave had been extinguished.
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