Ynneas

PART 12

The situation was bleak. When the Farseer looked back at all the chances fate had presented him to end this inquisitorial madness he was filled with a mixture of sadness and anger. By all means, this should have been long over, Enochian could have been killed, the recovery or the transportation of the pylons stopped, or the planet of Sternberk under firm control. 

None of this happened and so an attempt must be made to wrestle victory from the jaws of the predatory gods. 

The Necron cryptek will no doubt attempt some sort of binding or amplifying ritual at Sternbek. He will be heavily defended and protected. Ynneas already saw what must be done, where the weak links are. So it is just a matter of relaying this information to the disparate forces, keeping them out of each other's throats and focused on the objective.

Most of them will try to penetrate the defensive perimeters directly. Speed will be essential as after they break through the enemy lines, the ritual site must be reached before too late. The ritual site reached and the Necron, who Ynneas considered to be the real enemy here, destroyed. 

Some will need to be sent to the geo-thermal power generators deep beneath the Red Mountain to either disable them or take control of them if they manage to wrestle the mountainside macrocannons from the enemy. The underground is going to be an issue, very low ceiling will prevent any heavy machinery from being deployed but the mountain top will present another set of challenges. The mountain is very steep and inaccessible but for flyers and dedicated infantry. However, if they manage to aim the cannons at the enemy, that would make everything so much easier. 

He will need to consult the skeins of fate and the T'au military cadre for insight into the best tactics. Deployment will be key. The right tools must be chosen for the right tasks and, which complicates it a bit, some tools should rather be kept away from others lest infighting breaks out. He will need to be aware of all the battlefields in order to coordinate the attacks, redeploy armies in support of each to other and strike where the enemy proves weakest.

It can be done. It will not be easy, but it can be done and so it must be done. 

PART 11

Betrayal was inevitable, Ynneas had known that for a long time. When you are pulling strings and trying to orchestrate a campaign involving the Imperium, forces of Chaos and various other Xenos races, it was not a question of "if", but "when". 

He himself had almost ordered an attack on his allies a couple of times, because seeing the mortal enemies of his people vulnerable and open to an unexpected attack from the rear was very tempting. 

The fates of skein showed him all the potential traitors and the list was long. He tried to navigate through them, choosing the best and safest path, but try as he might, there was no single feasible path without traitors.

One path showed him Gutrippa being defeated by Blackfist, forgetting about all the promises he made (and the riches he got), and swearing allegiance to the other ork. Their combined Waaagh led to the collapse of his forces and a large portion of the sector. What was worse, Enochian was able to still somehow achieve his goal. 

Another path showed Shamok going ballistic in an insane power grab move that led to him attacking the other forces of chaos and basically rendering the whole coalition inoperable before imploding in a very spectacular way. 

Yet another portrayed an unlikely scenario wherein a very improbable warlord would end up cooperating with the Inquisition. Because even despite doing so, they would still provide the Coalition with important victories, the farseer had decided to steer events down this path. 

The problem was that the situation had soon grown more complicated and blurry. After an unfortunate series of losses, he suddenly saw several potential traitors where there was supposed to be just one - a T'au commander, a Nightlord and a mutant. 

His frustration grew as he was unable to separate these three and eventually had to consult commander Hurricane. He vouched for his fellow commander and also for the mutant BlackThorne who had proven to be extremely valuable, almost killing Enochian at the very beginning. This left the Nightlords - a reasonable choice. 

---

<Sternbek System>

Tazzar Ketter made a few shots and disappeared behind a corner. His assault on the Sternbek planetary defense batteries was a lot more difficult then he expected. The command of his so-called coalition had provided very little support and so he had to do everything the hard way. Nevertheless, most of the great weapons had been eventually successfully silenced. He loaded a fresh magazine and killed two more humans without being even seen. 

"Master Ketter," a deep, harsh voice spoke to him over his vox-bead, "we have intercepted an encoded message for all members of the Coalition."

"Speak clearly, Mush-Rikt!" he snarled, "why did you have to intercept a message for ALL members of the coalition? That makes no sense!" He ran and jumped into the enemy defense line killing as he went. 

"Yes, master, yet it is so. The craven Aeldari has branded us traitors to his cause and warns all not to assist us in any way! In fact he issued a shoot-on-sight order!"

The Nightlord warlord paused and reflected for a few moments, he had to admit, he had not seen this coming. After a few seconds he looked at the human soldier still trapped under his boot, squirming and trying the impossible, trying to escape. Futile, yet admirable. Then he noticed the rank insignia on his shoulders. 

Tazzar Ketter raised his leg, reached with his hand and lifted the human up. Then, he took off his own helmet and looked the human eye to eye, "Today, is your lucky day, soldier," he hissed his every syllable a death threat. Before he could finish his thoughts another message chimed through.

"Master, it seems the forces of the Cults are on route. ETA fifty-four minutes. There is a lot of them! What are the orders?"

The Nightlord's warlord thought about it for a moment, weighing the options. Ynneas has publicly called them traitors and so the mutants are probably here to destroy them. He could try and explain his position, pointing out the error in the pointy-ear's logic and continue to fight for the coalition. Or, he could show what the consequences of smearing Tazzar Ketter's honor really are.  

He didn't have to think twice about which option was far more palatable.

PART 8

The Aeldari psyker and the leader of the loose coalition that sought to oppose the workings of inquisitor Enochian was contemplating the recent developments. 

The T'au would consider them unfortunate. It seemed the ploy to lure the Imperials to Nordlit's Rest failed. His cousins have also managed to throw a wrench into his plans by crushing the allied forces at Carnivaal. Where victorious should have been noted, there were defeats or bitter stalemates. 

Or so it seemed. 

Ynneas knew well what he was doing. The almost total annihilation of the genestealer cults at the hands of the Grey Knights was exactly as he has foreseen it. Perhaps a victory would indeed send more Imperials there and made progress easier, but it would also enable the Cult to grow. And he was well aware how dangerous they were. 

The time was soon aproching for him to join the fight. Soon they will strike at the heart of the Imperium in the whole sub-sector. Kill the high command and send imperial forces into turmoil. Dismantling the inquisitor's little operation will be a children's play then. 

He just needs to be mindful of all the players. His contact within the so-called Pact was proving to be very useful yet at the same time, several of the forces fighting for his cause seem quite close to be flipping and either not being interested or even changing sides. He made a personal note to talk to the leader of --

"Ynneas, they found us! An Imperial fleet has just come out of orbit. We may not delay!" Amalyn barged into his private chamber.

"Right on time," Ynneas said. Let me deal with this one thing at a time. Once safe, the traitor will be dealt with. 

PART 7

"The humans call it 'Nordlit's Rest'," Ynneas explained to Amallyn, "it is a world they value highly, yet for no sensible reason. It is one of their Shrine worlds, important for their faith and only for that. If we attack it, if we despoil, they would have to respond. And that response, would be massive and immediate."

"You tread dangerous paths, seer," Amallyn remarked. 

"I know, my dear, but as long as the Mon'Keigh can call upon their fleets and innumerable armies, ours will always be an uphill struggle. If we attack what is closest to them they will be, in short term, reluctant to help one inquisitor on his quest. Especially if the whole sub-sector command is under attack or, better yet, destroyed."

"And the long term? Amallyn asked, not missing that point.

"Reinforcements come. Too strong to handle, but by then, we should all be long gone. And to make matters safer, we will make sure no one will be able to trace what happens there to us. Can you find someone suitable for such a job?"

"Of course. I think I know just the perfect ones for that kind of work."

PART 6

The report transmitted by Commander Hurricane might have appeared grim to an outsider's eye, but Farseer Ynneas perceived it differently. He knew that, despite the substantial casualties sustained by the T'au forces and their eventual retreat from Aracacea, the price exacted from their enemy had been far steeper than the inquisitor originally anticipated.

Attempting to thwart the Inquisitor's plans in Aracacea had always been a risky endeavor. The T'au lacked the sheer numbers required for such a decisive confrontation. Nevertheless, the Pact had drawn in reinforcements from numerous warzones, a tactical gambit aimed at securing the excavation sites and facilitating the extraction of the enigmatic Necron blackstone pylons. Ynneas had a clear inkling of Inquisitor Enochian's intentions regarding those artifacts; the precise destination, however, remained elusive. If he had possessed more concrete knowledge, he would have been better positioned to intercept the pylons during transit. Yet, as a seasoned Farseer, he harbored at least a couple of notions.

Foremost among his targets loomed the world of Carnivaal, a bustling trading hub sitting right on a stable warp route from Aracacea. Ynneas knew that this was the most likely route of the excavated pylons and so striking there was essential, and he planned to discuss this with Commander Hurricane. However, there were other facets to his strategy that merited attention. By keeping the Imperial forces stretched thin across various fronts, they could destabilize the enemy's hold on key regions. Imperial dominion rested heavily on its core worlds, making them the backbone of Enochian's power. To undermine these core worlds was to inflict a grievous blow upon the Inquisitor himself.

Furthermore, they had devised a daring plan for Nordlit's Rest. The objective was to provoke the enemy by launching audacious attacks on their holiest sites, thereby drawing them from many nearby warzones. By drawing enemy forces away, the hope os that the center of Imperial rule in the sector itself might be compromised, if that happens, victory would be within reach. Farseer Ynneas knew that in the complex tapestry of war, every thread played a role, and the successful execution of these multifaceted strategies could lead to the ultimate triumph they sought.

PART 5

Farseer Ynneas sat in the brightly lit command bridge, his eyes locked in a thoughtful gaze with the Tau leader known as Hurricane Punch. The two leaders had been deep in conversation, discussing strategies and the ever-shifting tides of fate.

As they deliberated, Ynneas couldn't help but muse over the latest reports about Inquisitor Enochian. The fact that the Inquisitor had survived the mission with severe injuries troubled him. He knew Enochian well enough to understand that the Inquisitor's determination would only be heightened by his near-death experience.

"We must act swiftly," Ynneas thought, his mind racing with possibilities. "Enochian must be stopped."

But, as with lesser animals, the humans were now agitated, their defenses heightened to a fever pitch. Attacking their headquarters directly was no longer an option. Ynneas needed a plan that would draw them out of their fortified positions.

A plan began to form in his mind, a plan that involved attacking something of great value to the humans, something that would force them to respond. He turned to Hurricane Punch, his eyes filled with resolve.

"We must strike at their heart," Ynneas said, his voice firm. "We will attack the target of their deepest concern, and in doing so, we will draw them out into the open."

The Tau leader nodded in agreement, his expression reflecting the seriousness of their situation. "We are prepared to stand with you, Farseer," Hurricane Punch declared.

Ynneas gave a solemn nod in return. "Then let us prepare for war," he said. He knew that the coming battle would be fierce, but he was determined to see their mission through to the end. Together, they would face the relentless storm of humanity's fury and strive to shape the destiny of their people.

PART IV

Amallyn, the Aeldari ranger and right hand to Farseer Ynneas, crouched silently on the upper floor of a towering building, her keen eyes fixed on the imposing fortified structure in the distance. The once-impregnable fortress was now embroiled in a desperate battle, its red-armored Space Marine defenders clashing with the overwhelming horde of Orks and mutants. Their assault on this well-defended Imperial hive was swift and ferocious. Their numbers were enough to overwhelm the defenders for a brief moment. But a brief moment would hopefully be all the needed.

As the fortress's defenses crumbled and breaches appeared in multiple places, Amallyn's sharp gaze caught a small group of figures escaping the chaos within. Her senses tingled as she spotted a shimmer in the air, a telltale sign of impending arrival. Imperial reinforcements, clad in silver armor adorned with sigils of the Grey Knights, materialized on the battlefield with uncanny precision.

It seemed the quarry they sought, Inquisitor Enochian, might slip through their grasp, so Amallyn swiftly sent a coded message to the leader of the mutant forces. Her fingers flew deftly across her communicator, relaying vital information to the mutants lurking nearby.

Through the scope of her silent rifle, she watched as the mutants intercepted the fleeing Imperial soldiers. A brief but intense firefight erupted, with the outnumbered Imperial soldiers putting up a valiant defense. However, the mutants closed in, their sheer numbers overwhelming the beleaguered soldiers.

A blinding flash of light momentarily robbed Amallyn of her vision. When her sight returned, not a single Imperial soldier remained standing. 

She watched as the mutants took the surviving soldiers as prisoners, preparing to withdraw from the battlefield. The mission had been successful, but a nagging feeling gnawed at Amallyn's mind. The inquisitor was not amongst the prisoners and neither did any of the mutants remember seeing him dead.

Later, as she observed the prisoners, one of them, a female with a defiant air, caught her attention. There was something about her, something that marked her as important amidst the captured Imperial soldiers.

Approaching the prisoner, Amallyn asked, "What is your name?"

The prisoner met her gaze with unyielding resolve. "My name is Neyam Shai Murad," she replied, her voice unwavering. "And be assured, that Enochian will have his revenge on all of you."

Amallyn couldn't deny the weight of those words. She knew that the game had only just begun, and the shadow of Inquisitor Enochian would continue to loom over them all. With a determined nod, she ordered for the prisoner to be taken to Edenvia, where they would learn more about the mysterious woman and the dangerous game in which they were all entangled.

Part III

Alone in his chamber, Farseer Ynneas meditated on the many moving pieces of his intricate strategy. The fate of his craftworld and the galaxy itself rested upon his shoulders, and he knew that every decision he made would have profound consequences. The skeins of fate whispered their secrets to him, and he saw the path ahead, a path filled with dangers and opportunities.

After careful consideration, Ynneas made his decision. He would focus his efforts on the world of Dopplix, where a coalition of Genestealer Cults and Orks were gathering to lead the attempt to assassinate the enigmatic Inquisitor Enochian. The convergence of these two chaotic forces presented both an opportunity and a danger. If properly manipulated, they could be a formidable weapon against the inquisitor, but their unpredictable nature could also lead to disaster.

Ynneas knew that he had to act swiftly. He reached out with his psychic abilities, sending a warning to Amallyn who was there as his liason. He cautioned her about the potential dangers of their ambush, asking her to subtly manipulate their allies to make them more cautious and less reckless. He knew that they would still be a formidable force, but at least they would not rush headlong into a trap.

As he concluded his psychic communication, Ynneas couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency. The fate of his people hung in the balance, and the alliance of convenience with these unlikely allies was a risky gambit. But in the grim darkness of the 41st millennium, sometimes the most unlikely alliances were the key to survival. With his plan set in motion, Farseer Ynneas continued to weave the threads of fate, hoping that his actions would lead to victory and the salvation of his craftworld.

Part II

Amidst the vast expanse of the cosmos, the small craft piloted by Farseer Ynneas and his trusted ally, Amallyn, approached an enigmatic planet. Guided by Ynneas's unique insight into the skeins of fate, they deftly navigated the labyrinthine web of possible outcomes, veiling their presence from prying eyes. Amallyn's piloting skills were unmatched, her nimble maneuvers carrying them stealthily through the asteroid fields and enemy patrol corridors.

As they descended upon the planet's surface, they beheld a breathtaking panorama—an alien world brimming with life and the signs of a developed civilization. A city appeared below them, sprawled like an intricate tapestry, each building adorned with mesmerizing patterns and vibrant colors. The beauty of the landscape juxtaposed with the enigmatic secrets that lay hidden beneath the surface.

It was not long till the two carefully made their way into the city itself, leaving their craft hidden some distance away. Silently, Ynneas and Amallyn moved through the bustling streets of the planetary capital, their steps as light as whispers upon the wind. As the inhabitants, still unaware of their presence, went about their organized and peaceful everyday lives, Ynneas's heart swelled with mixed emotions. It was a poignant reminder of what was at stake—his people's salvation, inextricably entwined with this civilization he had never seen before with his eyes. It was a strange sensation seeing scenes from his vision materialize in front of him, something he knew he would never get used to.

The Aeldari pair observed the denizens gracefully interacting with one another, bound by an unseen harmony. Their presence invoked a sense of unity and purpose, characteristics often lost in the tumultuous universe they traversed. As they moved further into the heart of the city, the grandeur of its architecture and the sophistication of its technology certainly impressed them.

Finally, the time came for Ynneas and Amallyn to reveal themselves, to reach out to this enigmatic civilization in pursuit of their precarious alliance. The tension in the air was palpable as they made their presence known, drawing curious gazes from passersby and the armed guards. It was not long before their clandestine quest reached the attention of the ruling authority—the Ethereal Aun'El Kor'var Shasal.

In a private chamber, adorned with symbols of peace and unity, Ynneas and Amallyn stood before the enigmatic Ethereal. The aura of wisdom and benevolence radiated from the being, and Ynneas felt a sense of reverence in the presence of this influential figure. The room was filled with an air of cautious curiosity, as both parties sought to understand one another's intentions.

Ynneas spoke with eloquence, his words carrying the weight of generations past and the uncertainty of the future. He conveyed his vision, the impending doom that loomed on the cosmic horizon, and how it was intricately linked to the fate of his people and the enigmatic civilization that thrived on this planet.

As the conversation unfolded, a spark of mutual understanding ignited in the depths of the Ethereal's eyes. Aun'El Kor'var Shasal, in his wisdom, recognized the shared purpose that bound them—preservation and harmony in the face of the unforgiving universe. The tension in the room gradually eased, replaced by a sense of unity in purpose.

"I am pleased to have found common ground with you," Ynneas said, his voice resolute yet tinged with a glimmer of hope. In this moment of truth, the first step toward an unlikely alliance was taken, setting in motion a new chapter in the cosmic tapestry that would intertwine the fates of the Aeldari and the enigmatic civilization known as the T'au.

...

As the delicate threads of alliance began to weave, Farseer Ynneas found himself deep in contemplation, his thoughts dancing among the myriad possibilities that lay ahead. He knew that the path to salvation for his people was precarious, fraught with peril and uncertainty. The enigmatic connection between the fate of craftworld Arantè and the human Inquisitor weighed heavily on his mind, and he considered the most expedient route to avert the impending doom.

His piercing gaze rested upon Amallyn, who stood beside him with unwavering loyalty etched in her eyes. Though no words were exchanged, their shared understanding spoke volumes. In this pivotal moment, Ynneas recognized that the easiest path to victory, though shrouded in shadows, lay in the hands of an assassin's blade.

Without a spoken command, Amallyn's eyes glistened with fierce determination, silently acknowledging the necessity of such an action. She was prepared to execute the mission with deadly precision, her skills honed by countless trials and tribulations. But before she could pledge herself to the task, Ynneas interjected with a voice that carried both firmness and warmth.

"Amallyn, I would not have you embark on this perilous journey alone," Ynneas spoke gently, his hand resting on her shoulder. "Our new allies here might help, either directly, or by helping us nudge someone else to do our bidding. But I would need you to oversee that. If the deed is successful, join me as I deal with a mon-keigh regiment that may turn out to be useful in our quest."

"And if bad luck mars our victory?" she asked.

"In that case, I shall find you on a world torn by war. But no matter where faith takes you, we shall be reunited again. 

Part I

Amidst the iridescent spires of craftworld Arantè, a bastion of ancient wisdom and ethereal beauty, Farseer Ynneas stood on the precipice of a haunting revelation. His eyes, pools of swirling cosmic hues, gazed into the mystic infinity, where the tapestry of fate unfurled before him. Within its intricate weave, he saw the horrors of death and destruction, a turbulent tempest engulfing a vast swath of space. Even more troubling, his beloved craftworld was not immune to the impending cataclysm. Quite the contrary, it was right in the center of the maelstrom.

Yet, beyond the edges of the unfolding tragedy, a perplexing enigma presented itself—a human Inquisitor, veiled in obscurity, whose very existence seemed to weave a thread into the fate of craftworld Arantè. Who was this enigmatic figure? What role did they play in the impending doom? Ynneas yearned to uncover the answers buried within the astral dance.

Bound by the foresight granted by his psychic abilities, the farseer saw a glimmer of hope—a flickering ember amidst the encroaching darkness. Though the vision had faded from his sight, the seer was certain that the calamitous fate was not yet irrevocable. There remained a chance to steer the cosmic currents toward a different destiny.

With a heart burdened by the weight of knowledge and a mind swirled in a tempest of uncertainty, Ynneas appeared before the esteemed Seer Council, a gathering of venerable Aeldari diviners whose collective wisdom spanned countless lifetimes. His voice, a melodious cadence woven with emotion, recounted the harrowing vision that had shaken his soul.

As he revealed the connection to the enigmatic human Inquisitor, the council's curiosity was piqued, but it turned out to be short-lived. Another Farseer, Azariel, surged forward, her face etched with worry and urgency. The news of an imminent threat, an awakening Necron tomb world, demanded their immediate attention.

The council's focus swiftly shifted, its gaze locked upon the pressing danger that loomed on their cosmic horizon. They could not be distracted by cryptic visions of a yet-unknown human. By visions they weren’t able to share, by visions even Ynneas himself wasn’t able to access again. The farseer felt a sense of isolation, his forewarning lost in the urgency of the present.

Undeterred by their disinterest, Ynneas, guided by the lingering echoes of his vision, found solace amidst the intricate skeins of fate. There, amid the interwoven threads of destiny, he glimpsed a treacherous path—a forlorn journey that held the promise of salvation for his people. If his own people could not, would not put their trust in him, he would find another way. He would forge a new alliance.

The audacity of such a quest dared to defy the very fabric of Aeldari traditions and expectations. To venture forth into the unknown, far from the protective embrace of craftworld Arantè, was to forsake the familiar for the enigmatic. Yet, the Farseer's conviction burned with a celestial fire, and he knew there could be no other way.

And so, as twilight cast its ethereal glow upon the craftworld, Farseer Ynneas prepared to take flight. Clad in resplendent wraithbone armor, adorned with shimmering runes that whispered the secrets of the ancients, he set forth with purpose. His heart carried the burden of prophecy, and his mind danced upon the precipice of uncertainty.

As the Infinity Circuit thrummed with the collective consciousness of the Aledari ancestors, Ynneas left behind the serene beauty of his home. He stepped into the abyss, guided solely by the sparks of knowledge that defied the dictates of fate.

Through the infinite void, he ventured forth, guided by an unseen hand toward a rendezvous with destiny—an encounter that would shape the fate of craftworld Arantè and the fragile alliance that might hold the key to salvation.

And, as his home became just a speck in the distance, his heart was warmed by the presence of an old and trusted friend whose knowledge would find many a use. He turned to her and whispered quietly, “Thank you, Amallyn.”