It had been many passes since Aramën had seen the Hive – since she had created the Hive, and she felt no less guilty now as she had been then.
Its rate of growth had been faster than she predicted, much faster, and the velocity of its trajectory down to Fifé was staggeringly quick. As much as she wanted to avoid conflict with the Tyranids, her options were now few and far between.
Closing her eyes, through the protection of her runes she looked to the psychic-energy that fuelled the galaxy and gazed upon the threads of light that represented the life around her. Following its web-like structure like a spider, she turned to each and every inconceivable action she could take, but none would provide a resolution devoid of conflict…except maybe one?
“Aramën, do we stand and fight or run?” Hama asked, almost impatiently.
Pausing for a last moment of thought before treading on a path that would decide the outcome of the proceeding battle, Aramën looked at the array of warriors that followed her unquestioningly, their lives in her hands.
“We move closer to the city, place its walls at our back and hope the humans provide support from its barricades. Fly the Xamath above the city to stop any spores from bombarding the citizens in their evacuation.”
Nodding in acknowledgement, Hama launched himself off the ship, relaying the commands to the Warlocks and Exarchs down below.
Before long, Aramën’s forces were akin to a deep-blue river coursing its way swiftly towards the city – their golden helms like sunlight reflecting off a deep blue ocean. All she could do now was to hope that Governor Thorpe would stand his ground until this battle turned, one way or the other.
“Governor!” one of Thorpe’s aids shouted out amongst the hustle and bustle of the command room. “The Eldar, they’re headed towards the city.”
“I told you,” another shouted, “They’re just looking to take the city for their own!”
“No wait, they’ve stopped just outside the eastern walls?”
“At least they’ve got the courtesy to not let themselves in,” he muttered under his breath, hoping that the farfetched idea of them moving in wasn’t about to come true. “How are the Tyranids progressing,” Thorpe asked.
“What we assume to be transport spores are just about to hit the surface, roughly where the Eldar had made camp sir.”
“Alright, and what of the evacuations?” The Eldar’s anti-grav tanks had arrived little under an hour ago and were efficiently shuttling the citizen of Fife to the docks where a number of huge spacecraft were waiting for the refugees.
“Fast, really fast in fact – but probably not fast enough. That is, if what I hear about Tyranids is true?” the technician asked, looking to the Governor for any slim hope of good news.
“At this point, I don’t think any amount of speed will be fast enough to get out of here in the clear. Order any and all defence forces to the eastern wall. Make sure the Valkyries are back for them and ready to go as soon as the citizens are on board, we’re going to need all the time we can get.”