“A Necron warhost appeared, destroyed the orcs and left?” Eldar Autarch Hama questioned, an air of sarcasm in his voice.
“That’s what we saw,” the Ranger replied. “They even burnt the orc camp before leaving to make sure that no spores survived,” he finished as he turned and headed back towards his group, their long cloak’s active camouflage hiding their figures from all but the most observant eyes.
Autarch Hama stood confused and puzzled by the Necron’s actions as the Rangers turned and left, melting into the charred landscape. They had received word from the Rangers that orcs had settled on the human planet of Fifé. They were on their way to deal with the threat, or at the very least, aid in the planet’s evacuation, when a Necron host had arrived and had, seemingly, done their job for them.
“I assume you have spoken to the Rangers Hama?” Farseer Aramën asked, moving to stand next to the puzzled Autarch, their deep blue armour, teal cloaks and golden helms reflecting the brilliant sunlight of the planet’s twin suns. “It seems as though there is another presence in the galaxy looking to aid those in need.”
“Or just hunt down Orcs for sport?”
“No, if that was their true aim then why would they eradicate a whole continent to stop their breeding, leaving the inhabitants of the planet largely unharmed?”
“I’ve seen many strange and wondrous things in my lifetime Farseer, but the day I see a selfless Necron will be a much stranger and wondrous one indeed.”
“If it is the glory that you are worried about, fear not. I’m sure there are plenty of souls in need of aid for the both of us,” Aramën commented as she removed her helmet, a wry smile on her face.
Looking over the black fields that were once full of life and luscious green vegetation, Hama wasn’t sure whom his anger was targeted at – the Necrons who had burnt it to the ground or the Orcs that had created the necessity for them to do so.
“Farseer Aramën!” shouted the Ranger, rapidly running back to the pair, “Farseer, the-“
“Yes…” she replied, her eyes concentrating on something in the distance with a troubled look on her face, “Jorn, they’ve found it.”
As the Ranger looked to Hama, the pair remained silent as Aramën passed her helmet to Hama, took a couple of steps from the group and removed a handful of runes from her pocket. Crossing her legs and sitting on the warm black earth she starting repeating the phrases she had been taught when starting the path of the seer, to tap into the life-force of the galaxy, channelling her power through her runes so as not to make her presence known to those she didn’t wish to be found by.
As she looked through the planes of existence she focussed on a small planet in an outer system, Jorn. She could see the light of one of the Eldar’s dark kin and a powerful Necron Lord entwined there, but merely by chance, as well as the device that her people had defended to the death not so long ago. She watched as the relic left Jorn and slipped into the warp. From there she followed its thread all the way to Fifé, and with it, the Tyranid fleet she had left to guard the atrocity.
Opening her eyes, she placed the runes back into the folds of her robe, stood up and walked back over to Hama and the Ranger.
“Get everyone you can off this planet, it’s not been saved yet.”