This army has been a labor of love for the last two years, and I am very pleased to share it with you guys now that it is finally coming together.
My dial-up connection takes forever to upload pictures, so I'll share the first squad and some fluff tonight, and then upload pics of the next squad tomorrow.
Click on a pic to see a larger version.
Terminator Squad Takara
Sister Etsu
Sister Riniko
Sister Yei
Sister Miyoko
Veteran Sister Tadako
And now some Background
Fluff for you guys:
“The Genestealer Organism is the most perfect weapon ever created by man or god. Rather than expending the enormous resources necessary to create an invading army, it quietly turns the resources of the target planet against itself, converting the populace, breeding an army in the dark shadows and corners, until at last the planets defenses are stripped, and the knees of its inhabitants hit the dirt and their heads are bowed in supplicance before a single invader touches the surface. While we expend decades of time and whole planets worth of resources in the hopes that a mere handful of aspirants survive the implantation process to become marines, the hive fleet has simultaneously conquered a target and created fresh invasion forces, and all it expended was but a single man-sized organism. Its only flaw is that it knows not the glory of chaos. It still foolishly takes by force that which should be pleaded for by its victims.
This day I transcend both the primitive work of the False Emperor and the primeval hunger of the hive mind! This day, I unleash my perfection.
---Fabius Bile vox recording. Source and time code unknown.
Acolyte Harrisun could not understand why his master insisted on keeping his office so unbearably dark. The double sets of hardwood doors prevented any exterior light from entering, and only the flicker from a single scented candle reached out, occasionally licking the edges of the vaulted ceiling high above. Harrisun had occasionally speculated that his master may have come from a world of perpetual darkness, like Sysenthia or Morienalla, but his Master’s tastes in both food and women had long lead him away from such conclusions. In the recent years, Harrisun had suspected that his master simply did so to keep those who entered his santuarium at unease, and had not seen any reason since to suspect otherwise.
Harrisun waited politely in the darkness, forcing his breathing to regulate itself. Despite the importance of the news he brought, he understood that it was only one of a hundred such reports his master would receive that day.
“You may begin,” his master groaned painfully from behind stacks of dusty data-slates, a disturbance of dust caught by the candlelight gave the only indication that his master still drew mortal breath.
“I believe I have located the source of the enemy reinforcements on Genivineth.”
Harrisun waited for a snort of content or a sigh of irritance, but none were made.
“Are you awaiting a negative response from me?” came the throaty reply from his master.
“Yes master,” Harrisun answered honestly, having long ago learned not to try and hide his feelings. “Both Hanora and Sir Deldai have continually received my theories with contempt.”
“And that is why neither will succeed me when I am gone,” his master asserted.
Harrisun preened for a moment. Never in all his years of service had he received something so close to a compliment as this. Feeling emboldened, he continued.
“Originally we had suspected that the Alpha Legion had been able to somehow breach the blockade, but upon further investigation we discovered that their reinforcements were coming from the planets population itself. Suits of power armor were being salvaged from the battlefield and fitted to new warriors ready to accept them. Originally we thought their total marine strength to be in the thousands, but in all likelihood, there may have been as few as two hundred suits of power armor that were recycled through as many as twenty different warriors throughout the campaign.”
Harrisun tapped a rune on his slate and transferred the data across the room. Between stacks of scrolls, the candlelight revealed a single green aged eye shaking back and forth as his master reviewed the thousands of documents and vid-clips that had played a role in this investigation.
His master moaned, as if in pain, and the small metallic appendages around his mouth clicked like insects. His augmented mind was capable of virtually projecting thousands of scenarios in mere seconds, predicting their possible consequences centuries ahead, but it did not spare him from the gravity of his decisions. Harrisun would later learn that his master had just made one of the most difficult decisions of his ancient life.
“So, you expanded your search to the surrounding sub-sector,” his master said dispassionately.
“Yes, and we found six more worlds which had been seeded. We are not sure at this time exactly how they are being delivered to the individual planets. Even with the Imperial Navy so heavily redeployed around the Cadian Gate, it would still be quite difficult, even with something significantly smaller then a corvette, to slip around without being noticed.
A long dry sigh left his master’s cracking lips. “You are thinking too narrowly, young acolyte. There are millions of refugees leaving the Cadian sector each year. It would only be necessary to insert individuals onto a single ship, and from there they would be divided and disseminated among hundreds of planets.”
Harrisun disliked being called young. He was, after all, 187, but nodded respectfully at the correction and continued. “Once the women are on a planet, they quickly pair up and bear children with the local men. They seem to display an uncanny ability to seduce males, even those already involved in highly committed pairings. Whether this is a pheromoneal or psychic ability, we are unable to say at this time, but after that first generation, the daughters born will unerringly display the attributes found most attractive by that particular planet’s culture. Again, we have no explanation for this ability at this time. They are unusually uninhibited compared to normal human females, and appear to bear and raise, if unbarred by local law, as was the case on Darwio, as many as 14 daughters every twenty years. We have no reports of them bearing sons, so we can only assume they are unable to. On Ryzin II they appeared to have bred for only four generations but there were already more then a thousand mixed into a planet’s population, more commonly among the lower classes.”
“And what knowledge do they have of their ultimate mission?” came the raspy question from the darkness of the room.
“None that we know of. They are unlike other servants of the enemy I have encountered. They are highly-intelligent, and unusually charismatic. One detachment of local guards had to be executed after they were caught aiding in the escape of one of the subjects. Until their masters arrive, they seem to have a strong subconscious predilection for forming and joining counter-culture movements, like the militant mutant-rights groups on Sullia, or the Yparah peace movements on Ardura, but otherwise think of themselves as loyal citizens of the Imperium and faithful believers in the church of the God-Emperor.
“Or perhaps your interrogation methods were simply ineffective,” his master proposed. “It is possible to modify the body to make it impervious to torture. I myself was similarly modified in my youth in the case of my capture.”
“Regardless,” Harrisun continued, “there is obviously some sort of trigger mechanism that is activated in them once the planet they live on comes under attack. We have reports of hundreds of them leaving their old lives on Salitenca IV, and without orders or leaders, engaging in highly effective gorilla tactics against local garrison forces before finally joining up with the invasion forces themselves.
“And what are their abilities once fighting is engaged?” his master asked.
“Astonishing, given their level of experience and equipment at the time,” Harrisun commented. “While they definitely lack the strength of an astartes, we have confirmed reports of them exhibiting equivalent reflexes, endurance, tolerance to toxins, and healing speed. We have one report indicating that their pain threshold may indeed be far higher then a male astartes, but we would need much more data to confirm that. Until they are fitted with the neuro sensors and transfusion points needed for power armor, they are externally indistinguishable from regular local human females. Only sophisticated medi-augers or an internal autopsy can expose them.”
“And that is his trap,” his master said between strained coughs.
Harrisun paused and tried to understand his master through the darkness.
“I don’t understand, my master,” Harrisun said smartly. “We have a simple way to root them out. Is that not a flaw in his plan? How could that be a trap?”
A sound came out of his master that Harrisun had never heard before. It was long, and repeating, like the sound of a hand lightly beating against someone’s throat. After a moment, he realized that it was laughter.
“My dear acolyte,” his master finally said after a moment of heavy breathing, “You have never met Abbadon in person, so I will forgive you for misjudging his level of thinking. He is not so shallow as you.”
“And you have?” Harrisun asked aloud, his question only met by damning silence.
“Has your team estimated the cost of such a venture?” his master asked venomously. “An hundred thousand worlds within reach of the eye and the refugees that have fled from it, and another fifty thousand within short travel from them. To mount such a search and purge would rival the mobilization during the age of strife. Abbadon tempts us to bleed ourselves dry, divert enough resources away from the eye to allow him to break the Cadian Gate completely.”
“Certainly the cost of inaction is greater then the cost of action,” Harrisun interjected hesitantly, “Left unchecked, their numbers would grow exponentially. In another five generations on Ardura, they’ll outnumber the natural population. And that’s only if they remained in a few places. They could travel as pilgrims, spreading to countless other worlds. We must have a response, master.”
“Take your report and burn it,” his master commanded. “And send in the next acolyte as you leave.”
Harrisun turned quietly and walked out of the darkness, the aged wooden door creaking closed behind him.
More Pics and fluff to come.
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