As everyone else got into the business of killing the enemy, Khelthera held her wrath for the moment as with most of the enemies present being simple Mon'keigh, they were hardy a threat to her.... Apart from one that dared to fire upon her, who the Wych killed slowly and painfully so that she had a fresh dose of pain to keep her going during this mission. At first, the sword-end lopped off the man's arm, resisting the urge for a coup de grace, then the Dark Eldar kicked the man in the chest as he went for a combat knife before smashing the Mon'keigh's spine, quickly flipping the staff around so that the flail end of her weapon connected with his back, bone loudly cracking. After waiting a few moments to savour the Mon'keigh's agony as the man writhed in pain, Khelthera ended the poor creature's life by smashing the flail end of her weapon into the man's head, leaving blood, skull fragments and grey matter to stain the floor before moving on ahead of the team, not wishing to waste time by just killing Mon'keigh after Mon'keigh. Something as simple as that got boring very fast for her, no matter how she tried to make it fun. At least the Wych would have some quality time after this was over.
Malrak continued to happily walk though his mostly quiet part of the battlefield as most if not all the guardsmen at this point were either engaged with other members of the assault group or were dead. As he walked through the gray and ashen field that's color was only broken by the large amounts of blood and corpse that were littered everywhere though the battle appeared far from over as the forces inside the main building clearly must know what is going on and have probably already started to fortify the inside with whatever could be used. Malrak shrugged at the thought the force attacking the south had the ogryn and the two astartes if anything they would just need to worry about the clean up. He chuckled at that last thought, his new "comrades" are quite the stange bunch indeed. He would continue walking for quite a while until he realized he was heading in the wrong direction. Once he realized this he quckily dropped the severed head of the guardsmen he had gotten the drop on earlier and quickly launched himself strait up and sent a quick burst through his feet propelling him forward twoards the building's main entrance. "Why do I always loose track of my surroundings when I'm in thought!?" He yelled in a irritated manor as he steadily increased speed due to gravity.
Izakdor began to regain his strength, slowly returning to his average level of power. No longer able to command the Warp in a great feat, but still able to run and fight. With his strength regained, Izakdor jumped out from under cover, screaming praises to the Dark Gods as he ran towards the Guardsmen, sword drawn.
@DeranVendar After they had all exited their respective vehicles and done their fair share of damage, the tides of battle seemed to change ever so slightly. Orghast would find his body assaulted by something distinct from lasgun shots. These rounds collided heavily with his armor, and a few even embedded themselves within his flesh before exploding within. @lord-watchman What few Guardsmen remained were beginning to rally behind the remaining cover within the breach. Another volley of rounds from the Angels of Death impacted against the mutant Ogryn. Several of this round of bolts found their way within, causing moderate damage that only a nurglite would consider non-fatal. @Grall_Stonefist As Macer dispatched another Guardsmen several sturdy bolts would pound against his armor, though nearly all were unsuccessful in penetrating his armor, one bolt did manage to slip through the armor in his shoulder. It seemed something far more deadly than Guardsmen had joined the fight. Those heading for the other entrance to the station no doubt heard the addition of heavier weaponry into the mix of sounds that filled the air. Though their objective seemed rather unguarded from the outside, should they continue, or return to aid their comrades in their assault?
"Haa this is fun" as the ogryn spoke he looked at the angesl of death but il show you true death" with that he mived quick for an ogryn straight at the new threat holding his sythe in one hand he pulled his plauge knife out (what looks like a sword to anyone else) and threw it at the first of them as more bolts hit him and he kept going leting the pain fuel his strength as he returned his had to the scyth and in a single swing aimed to decapitate the group if astartees at least in his mind
Command Center Team "That is bolter fire, my lord!" Jarron called out in the midst of the battle, informing Orghast of the fact that the plague marine's embattled senses might have perceived, but that his mind may have failed to grasp just yet in all the chaos. A trained Schola officer, Jarron's voice rang over the clash of the fighting. The mutant was wading through the thick of the slaughter, slashing throats and piercing chestplates with his long, wicked blades. The carapace armor protected him from the guardsmen's bayonets, knives, and shots, so long as he kept his head down and his limbs moving.
"Several millennia and apparently I can't figure that out for myself Jarron. Your wisdom is appreciated. " Tone entirely patronizing as opposed to chastising Orghast simply rounded upon the source of weapons fire and called forth his black cloud of festering flies. So many fresh corpses had made for ample breeding grounds and it seemed as if the Plague Marine was feeding a solid black wall of noisome buzzing bodies into breached building like infected blood through an unwanted transfusion. Guardsmen, Marine, turrets, whatever dared stand before them would feel their voracious wrath as acidic bile ate into machinery and wiring with the same enthusiasm which it ruined flesh and bone. A gaping hole opened up in his stomach by a bolt had left mutant maw drooling pus and diseased blood in generous proportions leaving a fresh paint job of disgusting bodily fluids on his right leg. Despite being a wound that would of ordinarily caused even an Astartes quite a bit of pain and slow down Orghast lumbered forward with a deformed smile, power klaws snapping open and closed as he hunted among his swarm looking for worthy prey. "Come out, come out, wherever you are...." Wheezing laughter followed.
Having moved through in a hurry, the Alien was now in a superior position to aid Orghast in his advance. He had managed to build up quite some distance to the main assault and sneaked through enemy lines as they were focusing on less agile targets, perhaps not even seeing him as he was moving quite close to the ground. From the side he rose to his full statue, harpoon loaded in his gun and taking aim for weakspots in the enemies. The only thing was... Their armor was so pathetic they all were weakspots. He grinned and licked his lips, pressing his weapon against his shoulder and unleashed a single harpoon, sending it for the head of a Mon'keigh. "Perish." Hamadias blessed his shot under his breath.
As Malrak sped through the air like some sort of twisted bird gone mad he heard somthing he had dreaded. "Astartes" He said as he descended even faster warp lightning started to trail from his eyes. As he neared the building in his rage he created a bolt of change in his right hand now made into a clawed fist. Instead of landing at the entrance in his rashness he decided to smash his way through the ceiling using the bolt of change to evaporate the armored layer and let his momentum do the rest. As he came within a few feet of the roof he threw the bolt of change which managed to evaporate the unfinished armored plating which left a thin layer of rockcrete which he then flipped himself so his feet would hit first and used a quick burst of kinetic force to smash though. Upon getting through he landed with a loud thud as he had landed on a pile of the remains of the entrance guards left by Orgast. He then quickly got up and headed further inside.
As Khelthera was about to press deeper into the station, the sound of heavier Mon'keigh weaponry from where she assumed was the team's entry point made her pause for the moment, considiering if it was worth returning to the team's aid. While they were all a bunch of Mon'keigh who deserved to die if they couldn't keep up with her , likewise it wouldn't do her any favours if she set an example of leaving behind those who were in need... Especially if she needed saving from a similar scenario. Deciding that it was better to have more points in her favour if she was in the same situation, Khelthera went back on herself and sprinted back towards the team's entry point, Power Weapon ready to tear apart whatever was attacking the team. The Wych let her Arena-honed grace of movement be the sole announcement to the enemy that she had arrived, for even if she was having to save the fools on her side, she might as well show them how badly the brutes of the team fought compared to her.
