File: Tyranids

Genestealer

"I can think of few greater xenos threats to the Imperium than that of the Genestealer. An apex predator possessed of intelligence and cunning that rival our own, they exist for the sole purpose of reproducing in vast numbers and sowing utter chaos in their wake."

— Inquisitor Kalistradi

A Genestealer (Corporaptor hominis) is a bioform of the multispecies Tyranid race that was genetically designed by the Hive Mind for the infiltration of other intelligent species' settled worlds. The Tyranids are an intelligent, nomadic alien race governed by a collective consciousness known as the Hive Mind and comprising many different genetically-engineered forms.

Few Tyranid creatures have earned such a terrible reputation or caused as much damage to the Imperium of Man as the Genestealer. Encountered long before the first tendrils of the Hive Fleets reached the galaxy, they were thought to be little more than another unusual and deadly xeno-form. It was only after the horrors of Hive Fleet Behemoth and Hive Fleet Leviathan that the Imperium came to realise their true purpose as highly advanced infiltrators for the Hive Mind of the most insidious kind. Hiding away on void ships and in the depths of Space Hulks, the Genestealer menace has travelled across the length and breadth of the Imperium, seeding themselves onto human worlds and subverting their populations. This perhaps is the greatest horror the Genestealers bring, as they can infect almost any lifeform with a "kiss," implanting some of their own genetic material into the host and taking complete control of its reproductive system. When the host gives birth to offspring, these carry with them the Genestealer's genes and over the course of several generations a new Genestealer is born, albeit with some genetic traits taken from its host: such as the human-like hands many Genestealer Hybrids encountered in the Imperium possess.

Cunning and independent, Genestealers are also one of the few Tyranid bioforms that can exist away from the nurturing and controlling influence of the Hive Mind, using their own innate intelligence and brood telepathy to form tight-knit groups. These groups can survive for decades or even centuries on worlds, hiding their presence and infecting more and more of the population until the time to strike arrives, usually coinciding with the arrival of a Hive Fleet and the wholesale invasion and consumption of the world by the Great Devourer.

The Broodlord, or Corporaptor Primus, is the ultimate product of Genestealer evolution. The Broodlord is immensely strong, agile and durable, which makes it a superb frontline warrior. In addition to their already potent combat abilities, the Broodlord also has a few Tyranid Biomorphs or biomechanical weapon-symbiotes to chose from beyond just its standard rending claws and scythe-like talons.

Broodlords act as commander for Tyranid assault forces, personally leading attacks. They bear the "synapse" ability frequently observed in higher forms of Tyranids, which allow them to coordinate the Hive Mind's psychic commands over less-intelligent Tyranid species. This is unlike the traditional Genestealer Cults which grow and rise in infested Imperial worlds to take its followers from among the local populace, and psychically dominate them and be worshiped as gods. The army led by the Broodlord is an infiltrating vanguard operating in a similar manner to the Tyranid Lictor. A Broodlord at the heart of a telepathic link can track its foes with the senses of many and employs its greater intellect to coordinate and command the lesser Genestealers

A Genestealer Cult is a xenos-worshipping secret society made up of and controlled by Tyranid Genestealers that thrives in the dark corners of the Imperial underworld across the galaxy. Secretive, stealthy, and utterly malignant, Genestealer Cults are the cankers growing unseen in the hidden spaces of Mankind's realm. Some cultists are truly monstrous, skulking along dank tunnels with robes or hessian sacks covering their hybrid xenos anatomies. Others are merely pallid and bald, able to pass for loyal Imperial citizens whilst their wyrm-form tattoos remain hidden. These latter-generation brethren mingle amongst the herd of Mankind like wolves in sheep's clothing, working so hard amongst the crumbling machineries of Human industry that none spare them a second glance -- but under their work fatigues and rough miner’s apparel, they all bear the mark of the alien.

Once their brotherhood becomes strong enough, and all is in place for their great uprising, the Genestealer Cult will make its play. The militant throng boils by the thousand from sewers, tunnels and basements, seeping from the spires high above like insects pouring from a hidden nest. On this darkly glorious day of war, the cult's warriors are already ten steps ahead of the enemy. Saboteurs have shattered the supply lines of those who would oppose them, hidden agents have assassinated key commanders, and routes of escape have been cut off by demolition crews and blast teams. Every eventuality the cult's masters could foresee is accounted for, every advantage stacked in their favour. The enemy find their ammunition crates empty, their fuel reserves dry, their transport craft hijacked and their supporting fleet holed and listing in orbit. When the cult attacks, the enemy is already surrounded, stranded and half-beaten, ripe for a slaughter long-planned.

The butchery the cult metes out upon its enemies is terrible indeed. Though the greater masses of these hordes are armed little better than planetary militia, their sheer numbers and fanatical devotion make them a fierce prospect in a firefight. High-level threats will be ambushed -- not only by mutant hybrids that hiss and shriek as they lay about themselves with weapon-like mutations, but also by the Purestrain Genestealers of generations past and present.

The commanders of the enemy force are met in battle by the leaders of the cult -- the Primus, an inspirational war leader; the Magus, a hypnotic telepath; and the Patriarch itself, a monstrous terror that crossed the vastness of space to bring disaster to the world. In truth, the cult is in thrall to a far greater power. Unseen and utterly beyond comprehension, this inevitable force, this Great Devourer, is drawn to the prey world by the very cult that seeks to conquer it. When the doomsayers of this dark dynasty cry that the end of the world is nigh, their claims are more accurate than even they imagine.