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simison

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Coordinating his last ditch aerial assault, Burklak committed his elite reserves. Large nobs in the best armour the Orks could field trudged forth in metallic racket to counter Alexandros' advance. The Primarch counted fourty such targets and winced. Although they were spread out over half dozen walkways, each squad only had one or two weapons that could easily counter the 'mega armour'. My sons, Darshan communicated to his fellow psykers, keep your brothers alive. Even in a battle of attrition, victory is ours, regardless of time consumed. 


 


Alexandros held his shield above his head as one copter sprayed a hail of rounds at him. Patience will be our weapon now. With a quick squeeze, Alexandros downed the flying Ork as plasma burned through the mast connecting the rotor blades to the main body. The Ork screamed as it and the roto fell in two different directions.


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Darshan sent out shards of himself to watch over as many of his sons as he could, while Alexandros oriented himself toward the advancing heavy infantry. The lead "Nob" shouted, "WAAAAGGHH!" It was a single for his compatriots who promptly fired every single rocket in their arsenal. Alexandros stepped ahead of his sons and intercepted three such missiles, his shield burning bright with blue energy as its shield rendered the rockets harmless. 

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His sons did not enjoy the same amount of physical protection. Yet, the amount of immaterial protection proved nearly as effective. Half-second, telepath warnings allowed Riders to sidestep projectiles with centimetres between them and the weapons. Images from the future gave others the chance to aim their shields just right to neutralize the rockets and their blasts. Gaius proved his skill when he shot one rocket out of the air with a single bolt round. Alas, the protection was not total. One or two rockets found their mark, piercing adamantium plate and showering the resulting gore on fellow brothers. A few more failed to pierce the shields but struck with enough force to send a couple of Space Marines tumbling over the edge of the walkways. Shrapnel found holes and embedded metal where it could, crippling three more Storm Riders. But, at the end of the storm of missiles, it quickly became obvious how ineffective it was as the number of Storm Riders standing far outnumbered the fallen.

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Unfortunately, the reverse held true. Throughout the barrage, the Storm Riders returned fire. The heavier Ork armour may have looked hastily welded together, but it resisted the bolt rounds as though they were lasguns. The battle-psykers did what they could to strengthen the counter-attack. No Nob was completely encased in metal. Some forsook helmets. Others left a thin line of green between the suits' 'jaws' and their helmet. With guided precision, a few bolts found these small openings and tore open holes in the advancing Ork forces. As the distance shrunk between the opposing sides, the Nobs added fire to the fusillade. 

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Darshan and his psyker kin guided the Storm Riders through the conflagration as Space Marines took precautions to avoid being roasted alive within their armour. The flames held little fear to Alexandros, and he made his position on their danger to him quite clear to his enemies when he lunged forward. For all of the extra metal the Nobs wore, Alexandros' blade mocked them as it sliced them as though parchment. Three Nobs died before they ponderously switched from their 'skorchas' to their power weapons. Alexandros contemptously batted aside several attacks as he continued to shred and skewer the xenos. The Riders behind him were not idle as they charged into the breach with him, letting him show where and when to strike for maximum effect. Jorg slid beneath one attack and crushed a leg in a backwards swipe, while Schmidt fired his one melta shot that burned a hole through one Nob's chest. 

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His gaze snapped to a squad of Storm Riders on a walkway thirty metres above and eighty metres to his left. Karl was one of the legion's most recent additions to the battle-psyker contingent, fresh from Jermani. He was providing aid to an assault squad led by a young legionnaire named Apollyon, who had stepped into the position after Sergeant Bulau had died during an earlier Ork ambush. The Darshan shard next to the squad returned to Alexandros' body before his main 'spirit' flew to the squad.

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As he approached in his ethereal form, Darshan could see the connections Karl had established in order to serve his brothers. The talented battle-psyker split his focus between three tasks. In the first, he reached for moments of the future, which he then communicated to his fellow Storm Riders to overcome the Orks' heavier armour. At the same time, Karl fought on offense as he attempted to slow the Orks' attacks and counters with a battery of telepathic assaults. Finally, he took care to keep his own body out of harm's way as he parried and dodged out of the way of power claws. Darshan could see strands of blue between Karl and his brothers, while pulsing red fibers connected Karl to his Ork opponents. Karl's own mind Darshan saw as a shimmering star of energy, flickering between bloodthirsty red and grey apprehension. 

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A normal mind looked like an actual star, a sphere of pure energy. Karl's mind more resembled a triangle as it struggled and stretched itself to accommodate the three major tasks he had given himself. All psykers, telepaths especially, required training to maintain one's own sense of sense and one's mental defenses, lest they suffer severe consequences. As Darshan watched in order to confirm his original hypothesis, the red strands connecting Karl to the Orks grew brighter as the Ork's bestial energy and thoughts began to taint one corner of Karl's mind. Karl's mental defenses had been stretched by the battle, but Darshan saw a glaringly weak 'foundation' on which the defenses 'stood'. Probing, Darshan grimaced as he saw the root cause of the problem. In the meantime, more of Karl's mind grew redder as the Ork's bestial side continued its infection as Karl's mental fortitude collapsed beneath the onslaught of xeno thought and instinct. On the material plane, the battle-pskyer became more aggressive, no longer seeking to turn aside blows as he hacked away at the Orks' armour. 


 


The corruption didn't end there.


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The blue strands connecting Karl and his brothers tinged purple as Karl became an unwitting vector for the xenos' nature. Since none of the other Riders had the same defense training, it was only seconds before the whole squad began to substitute bare rage for technique. Apollyon battered down one Ork with his fist and chainsword, but another Rider left himself wide open as he swung wide before being impaled by a metallic claw. 


 


Darshan took one last thorough 'scan' of the scene. His task finished, he discarded his observation as he reached into Karl's mind. My son!


Edited by simison
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Darshan formed his connection to Karl's mind. Once established, the Son of the Emperor released a concentrated blast of his will, purging the xeno taint from his sons. To ensure a measure of safety for the Storm Riders to repair the damaged done, Darshan turned his attention to the remaining Orks threatening the squad. Forging his anger and grief into flaming spears, Darshan sent them flying to his targets. Although invisible to the naked eye, as each spear struck, the Orks howled as their minds were burned to nothing. The animals collapsed to the ground as their automatic nervous systems shut down without signals from their brains.


 


The immediate threat ended, Darshan shifted his attention back to Karl. Working gingerly, he coaxed the stretched mind back into its preferred shape of a star, using his own power to bind the mental trauma with luminescent 'strings'. The task was made easier now that Karl's mind wasn't spread thin between his abilities. As Darshan finished his work, Karl's mind glowed brightly with shame. Father, I have failed you...


 


Nonsense, my son, Darshan said. You have given me the means I need to put an end to this madness. Now, continue the mission and fear not. You will not fall again.


 


Although his gaze never left the battlefield, Karl physically nodded, whispering, "Father."


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Darshan returned to his body, once against trading places with the lesser shard currently inhabiting it. Although 'lesser' perhaps wasn't the most accurate term. Each 'shard' created was a complete ethereal clone of who he was. If, for whatever bizarre reason, a shard of him was lost and disconnected from his soul, the only thing it would lack is the memories created by his 'main' soul since the time of disconnection. 


 


The process of reintegrating with his body was flawless to the point none of his companions noticed the change. Since the incident with Karl, the battle had continued to progress in favor of the Storm Riders. New advances and openings were threatening to completely collapse the Ork defense network. The last ditch attempt to throw back Alexandros' personal advance had merely delayed him and cost Burklak his entire reserve of elite infantry. While Darshan had observed and healed Karl, Alexandros had wiped out the Orks attacking him before directing fire to the nearby platforms, Ultimatum's plasma rounds burning holes in mega armour and the Ork counter-assault. The few remaining Ork helicopters were now in a panic. For a squadron of Land's Speeders had been brought through the tunnel network. They were now chasing the last of the Ork copters in a very one-sided dogfight. 


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Alexandros studied the battlefield as something caught his eye. A window of opportunity was about to open in seven seconds that he had not foreseen earlier. If he took it, the remaining length of the battle may have been reduced in half. He glanced down at his bloodied shoulder. His wound had almost finished healing, but the armour was still in disarray, a potential weak spot. In three seconds, he conducted a survey of potential futures to determine how lethal this opportunity was. By the end of his survey, he was confident he could avoid the 6.6% futures where he died aboard this hulk. That would be quite an embarrassment if any of those futures came to pass. 

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His course set, he glanced down at the champion at his side. "Jorg, continue the assault in my stead. Be prudent, if you catch up to me, it must not be at reckless cost." Before Jorg could reply, Alexandros ran.


 


It has been a general truth in nature that the bigger an organism was, the slower and more restrained its movements were. Alexandros personally experienced a shade of this truth every time he interacted with a new group of people. At least one person reacted with surprise when Alexandros moved a hair faster than expected. It was a general truth that the Emperor had somehow neatly avoided when creating his sons.


 


Alexandros was a blur. A mob of Orks were gathering down the walkway, a last ditch attempt to stop the Storm Rider advance on this path. The lead Ork shouted something in half-panic before Alexandros crashed through them. Alexandros could feel bones break upon his armour, but it barely slowed him as he left the mob behind in two seconds. Gathering his strength, the Primarch shot off the walkway in a powerful jump. He easily crested over twenty metres before landing on a higher walkway. 


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He locked eyes on his quarry at the far end of this walkway. Standing in the centre of the largest platform was the Warboss Burklak. Although surrounded by his own personal guard, the big Ork yelled at the three small walkers on the platform to attack. After a moment's hesitation, the black-and-yellow-striped 'killa kans' marched forward, excreting noxious exhaust from their pipes. 

 

Alexandros waited for them to step off the platform onto the walkway, casually dodging their fusillades of round and rocket. He waited until there was twenty-five metres between them and the safety of the platform before he sprinted. At his lightning approach, the walkers, which were smaller than he was, froze with panic. Two quick shots from Ultimatum breached armour before igniting fuel reserves. After two brilliant explosions provided additional light to the cave, the last walker turned to flee, it's midget pilot squealing in terror. Before it had even finished its turn, Alexandros reached it. Regarding the enemy with nothing but irritation, The Lord of the Second spun his leg in a wide circle before kicking the smaller war machine off the walkway and into the abyss. 

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Alexandros stepped onto the platform as the cacophony of war dropped a level. With a cocky grin, the Son of the Emperor pointed his sword at the Warboss and declared, "Burklak! I have come for your head! I challenge you to a duel, or are you afraid of some overgrown 'umie?" 


 


Veins thickened over the massive Ork. Standing a foot taller than even his guards, the Warboss shook with fury at his wounded pride, his thick, black armour rattling. Yet, as Darshan had foreseen in over half of his visions, Burklak was more cunning than other Orks. "KILL THE ZOGGIN' 'UMIE!" Burklak howled before he and his guards swarmed towards the Primarch. 


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Although every one of the eleven large beasts wore the most intricate and decorated amour of any Ork on this entire hulk, it was of no protection against Alexandros' plasma fire. Two Orks dropped in screaming agony as their armour melted beneath the powerful salvos. Than the plasma blaster in the Primarch's hands began to scream as it flashed warning runes. With a 'tsk', Alexandros squeezed the trigger before throwing the weapon straight into the charging mob. The weapon's cooling system failed right as it passed between the two front Orks. The detonation killed one 'Nob' outright, while another two were wounded. One was temporarily blinded by the light and would gain its sight back in a minute, while the other cradled the stump that was its left arm. 

 

While six-on-one were better odds than nine-on-one, the destruction of his personal firearm was not a good portent. It had been one of the key moments which heralded the few futures where he was slain on this platform. Those odds had grown from 6.6% to 9.5%. Not to mention the loss of the rare weapon of which only seven had existed in the Storm Riders' armouries. He had even given it a name! He doubted Horus or Leman had ever experienced this particular embarrassment. 

Edited by simison
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