Daith'wyn was a blade of heritage and history, some known to Aleph, some known only to the blade itself. Of course Legionary Aster did not subscribe to superstition, he was raised to the Imperial Truth, and yet ... it did sometimes seem to him that there was more to existence than the merely material. His Astartes mind ascribed it to science not yet fully understood. And as the mind willed, the body followed, Alephoros' movements swift and sure as he wove around the enemy, striking, darting, ducking, stabbing. The short economy of a thrust balanced by the return swing of a backhand strike. Stepping in high where Brona fought low. Leaping up as an attack sought his knees, kicking with armoured feet even as he brought Night's Edge in to taste Traitor blood. Even as he tried to remain grounded in the realm of solid, observable facts, Aleph sought to defy that with his movements, flowing like smoke, always in motion. From his friendship with Vitaly he knew the kind of defences such a Marine might have, if not specifics, and he used that knowledge. Mechadendrites might look slender but they could carry all manner of harm, and Aleph knew well the miseries the serpentine could cause. He didn't take time to watch Brona but the younger Blade was always at the edge of his awareness, the two Astartes fighting in tandem. It confirmed the rightness of his decision. Brona was a loyal Child of the Emperor. Not only this, but he learned everything Alephoros could teach him with the same thirst to better himself that he had felt at his - age. How strange it was to be aware of the time passed since his induction; years passed, but somehow Aleph had never gathered that feeling of gravitas that comes with age. He still looked up to Sidon as his elder as well as his teacher, to Minteril and those few like him remaining as well. He was a teacher now, he was the older swordsman whose lead men followed. It didn't make sense to him. It was as if his younger squad still waited in the wings to join him once this was all over. He couldn't allow himself to daydream, and indeed he chanelled this strange sense of unaging wrath into a pure alloy, a blade aimed at the heart of the one who would defile that dream. As one day he would - given the chance, given the opportunity to come that close - strike even at the heart of his gene-Sire. Of Fulgrim himself, who had given him everything he ever aspired to, who had saved his very world, and now had spat in the face of every promise he ever made. Let Fulgrim rot. He was a traitor, he was a cancer like the fabled Blight and like it he must be purged. The way to that confrontation lay through warriors such as these. Aleph shouted, a wordless cry of rage, as he brought Night's Edge around in a lethal arc, Daith'wyn working to cover any gaps in his defence and flicking out to aid in keeping his fellow swordsman safe. He was here for a reason. That reason was to take out the enemy threat and move swiftly onwards to the next objective. The time for poetry, save if it be in motion, was gone. OOC: Aleph is going to continue working with Brona in the same way but he is mindful of the need for a speedy resolution to this one, so: Two actions as attacks using Offensive stance: Aleph gains a bonus attack and -1 on all of his defensive rolls on Techmarine and also using Once per combat Aleph can tap into the hatred he has for those that wronged the Legion and fuel his own resolve. For D3 turns, every attack he successfully makes will deal double damage. One defensive action using Defensive stance: Aleph gains a bonus defensive action and -1 on all of his attacking rolls concentrating defence on Brona - not just sentimentality but to continue working as a pair. Librarian minder in the back to provide additional defence if possible.