Elymas hefted the bolt pistol after reloading it, the clip having been emptied completely. Enough kills had been accomplished for Sergeant Sidon to propose to take the combat into melee. He never enjoyed it much, then again was war to be enjoyable? It was not the time to discuss philosophies right now. The Librarian grabbed the force staff with both hands, giving it a testing swirl as if being suspicious of it's balance. "I shall be your..." The psyker started his sentence before a rush of emotions assaulted him. It caused him to grit his teeth. It gave him goosebumps under his armor. That dreadful, forsaken feeling. It made him feel helpless. "...Third eye, Sergeant." He attempted to believe his own words, because he was certain nobody else sensed it. Nobody around him stopped in his tracks or showed any other symptoms. Without knowing what it was, he could not speak up. While running alongside Sidon, his hand brushed the strings of his guitar strings that were stretched across the shaft, making a simple but harmonious tone, allowing him to calm a little. The fight was before him, not in the spectral realm. As a dreg was upon him, he shoved the butt of the staff in its face to make it stumble before coming down with the Aquilla-head and crush the skull with a stronger than power weapon force field. The resistance urged another trio to approach him. Elymas was unable to tell if it was in revenge or expectation of a good fight. He grimaced. "I grant you the Emperor's mercy. For we are his hands." The staff came around fast, low on the first one to sweep him off of his feet. The other two leaping above the blow and jumping at him. One of the leaping dregs got a staff into his abdomen, making him fall on top of the other one on the ground. The third managed to cling onto his power armor and attempt to bite him in the neck, like a vampire in tales. But before the bite came, the Librarian used his elbow to break some teeth of the creature and then a headbutt to make him stumble. The first one that finally got up again, the staff came up in an uppercut swing, crushing chin and jaw. The follow up stomp obliterated the skull completely. But he moved apparently too slow as both enemies were standing again. He cursed under his breath for his shortcomings and pulled out his bolt pistol with his right hand, giving each a shot to the head before they closed in. So much for conserving ammo. The pistol was hefted again, barrel still smoking. The staff again in both hands, he had some ground to make up to follow Sidon and the others. There were more serious enemies to be killed, and Elymas was not a fool in attempt to impress Sidon - but simply make sure he would survive today. Perfection came not in a sudden rush, but day after day of realizing ones mistakes and fix them surgically. One such thing was his speed. Once he would reach the true warriors in the back rows alongside his brethren and Sidon, he would engage them with tactical care over ferocity and attempt to crush his enemy through the psychic power field at the end of his staff as it easily should go through their armor like a warm knife through butter. OOC: Killed 3 dregs. Balanced Attack vs. Kaballites when/if they are reached.