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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.

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.

Then he felt it.

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.

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.

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.

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!

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."

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

As Alexandros quickly unsheathed his sword, Burklak reached him and swung his massive claw with all of its might. The unsubtle blow was easily intercepted, but Alexandros found himself pushed back half a metre by its sheer strength. The other Orks attempted to rush him as they charged into the new opening. Alexandros rewarded the first Ork with disembowelment before shoving the dying Ork into two of its companions to the right as he blocked a couple of blows from his left.

He nearly buckled from the strength of the attacks as jagged saws cut at his shield. The last group of heavy infantry had never touched him, which made this experience all the more unpleasant as each of the Ork weapons increased their strength twofold. Well, almost all of them.

"THIS'LL TEACH YA TO RUN OFF YUR ZOGGIN' MOUTH, 'UMIE!" Burklak roared as he swung, not his powered claw, but a massive axe that was stained with three different colours of blood. Alexandros raised his shield and caught the blow before it could do harm and found that this was the weakest weapon of the bunch aimed at him. Shoving the weapon away from him, Alexandros swung, hoping for a quick decapitation in the one future out of thirteen he saw. Alas, Burklak had already foreseen the attack and shoved one of his guards in front of him. The Nob's head and body were separated, its eyes looking all around as though it didn't understand what just happened.

Before the head had finished its falling arc, four Orks rushed in on both of Alexandros' flanks. Recognizing the growing danger of being overwhelmed, the Primarch called upon his prodigious speed and counter-charged the two foes on his left. Caught off-guard by the blur coming straight at them, the two Orks swung wildly, hoping for a lucky hit. Luck proved to be an unreliable ally as Darshan used his future-sight to know the exact trajectory of the spinning saws. He casually blocked the closer Ork's swings before he reached the second bodyguard. He nimbly slid around the attack, spinning around the greenskin before delivering a back kick into it.

The enhanced strength adding to the Ork's own momentum sent it stumbling forward. Tripping on its own feet, the Nob fell forward into another of its companions who began to wail as both buzz saws eviscerated it. Green blood sprayed out as the saws cut through the beast's innards before erupting on the other side of its body, all the while cutting downward. Burklak released a cry of exasperation and disbelief. "Ya idiots! Kill the 'umie! Not each other!"

Alexandros wanted to turn and stab the other Ork in the back, but the future had already warned of another threat racing to his side. The earlier Nob whose arm had been melted off by plasma had managed to collect its wits from the searing agony and was now joining the battle. It hurtled forwards, it's one remaining arm and saw pointed straight forwards, briefly reminding the Primarch of an ancient rider and lance. Shifting to this new opponent, Alexandros batted aside the weapon before slicing off the offending appendage. The armless Ork barely had time to register the pain before the Emperor's son thrusted his sword through the beast's heart. The flying limb which still held the activated 'killsaw' never touched the floor. Darshan reached out and telepathically caught the weapon before 'throwing' it at the warboss about to reach him. Burklak already in a loping run, could only shift a bit before the saw its chest. Although Burklak growled in pain, the attack had missed the monstrous Ork's vitals.

Pulling his sword from the newest corpse, Darshan's vision raced through the numerous futures as Burklak and two of his guards attacked. Only Burklak and three of his Nobs (excluding the blind Ork furiously rubbing its eyes) still lived. Yet, Darshan soon realized that there was no clean escape from this next round of melee. The Primarch managed to block one power claw and deflect another. It was the third claw that Alexandros couldn't stop. The opportunistic xeno dug its weapon into Alexandros' torso, red blood quickly seeping out of the new wound.

With a cry of pained rage, the Primarch rewarded the Nob as he sliced through its armour, opening its chest for all to see. Even that retaliatory measure nearly cost Alexandros as the remaining greenskins pressed the attack. He sidestepped one attack by a mere centimeter as he blocked one more blow. Burklak had incorrectly seen an opening and reached out with his claw to snip Alexandros' head off. "YUR MINE, 'UMIE!"

"I disagree," Alexandros replied as he caught the lethal attack with his sword, batting the claw aside. Hitting some of the of mechanism on the side, the power claw swung wide open as the bottom 'jaw' disconnected and hung limply. It was a more symbolic victory that was narrowly overturned when one bodyguard swung at his legs. Alexandros managed to turn his leg enough that the garish weapon bounced off his purple armour, but the sheer force of the blow was enough to throw his leg out from beneath him. Finding himself on one knee, Darshan furiously searched through the futures to find a way out of this predicament. He winced as he realized what was to come next.

The future arrived as Alexandros parried one eager saw before gutting its owner. Although he scrambled to his feet, he could not stop the next moment. Burklak swung his broken claw down. Alexandros tried to shift right. The xeno's weapon missed his head but carved through his broken right pauldron. Before the warboss could cut off his arm, Alexandros saved the last few centimetres as he brought up his shield to catch the claw. There was a clang as his right arm dropped his sword.

Immense pain blazed throughout him, but Darshan quickly cordoned it off from debilitating himself. Then he focused it and released a primal roar amplified by his psychic power. The giant greenskin was hurled back as parts of his armour flew off or crushed into his skin. Yet, in spite of the wave of wounds, Burklak remained standing, alive and grumbling about his bleeding ears.

Cursing that he had misfired his attack, Alexandros took stock of his situation. Only a flap of skin and armour was keeping his arm attached. He had loss control of his limb, hence his weapon laying on the ground. Blood spewed forth from the large injury, but the Emperor's gene-engineering quickly proved its superiority as it went to work. Given his medical lessons from his Father, Alexandros knew the wound wasn't fatal. The nerve damage wasn't permanent, but it would take a month to heal at best.

Which meant he would have to slay the remaining Orks single-handedly.

Correction, almost single-handedly.

With a telekinetic bump, his sword lifted off the ground by a few centimetres. Alexandros kicked the blade up into the air about about waist-level. Calculating the trajectory just right, as Xiphos hovered in the air between rising and falling, Alexandros kicked the pommel. Propelled by enhanced strength, the blade shot forth. It pierced one Nob's neck. The xeno clutched at his throat as it withered to the ground, gasping for air.

Alexandros turned toward the only Ork standing between him and the warboss. For all of its fury and aggression, it was no space marine. Darshan spotted the seed of fear that held it back. Laying ahold of it, Darshan amplified it as he exploited the beast's fight-or-flight response. In seconds, the Ork went from uneasily holding its ground to shivering with abject terror. Staring with cold eyes, Alexandros said but a word.

"Run."

It did. It didn't care what direction it ran. All it knew was that it had to get away. It fled across the platform to the nearest walkway. As its foot stepped through the 'walkway', its terror doubled. Screaming, it fell through the walkway, which vanished as a mirage to reveal the open maw of the void waiting for it.

Darshan ended the illusion, it's purpose served, as he blocked another blow from Burklak. "NO ONE MOCKS ME, 'UMIE! I'LL TEAR YOU APART, LIMB BY LIMB!" The bloodflow had ceased after creating a red trail down Alexandros' side, but his arm still hung uselessly. Burklak allowed his fury to fuel his assault as he struck again and again. With each strike, Alexandros conceded another step as he waited for the right opportunity.

With one small detour first. Alexandros allowed himself to be driven back, but curved his retreat back to the center of the platform. There was one last threat besides Burklak that had to be ended before it could do him harm.

The last Nob stopped rubbing his eyes. It blinked a couple of times before breaking out into a huge, toothy grin. Throwing its arms in the arm, it shouted, "I CAN SEE AGAIN!"

"Spoke too soon," Alexandros warned. Then he slammed the edge of his shield into the Nob's eyes.

The sound of bones cracking hid the squish of eyeballs bursting. The Ork screamed as he cried, "NO! MY EYES! WHY IS IT ALWAYS MY EYES!" It staggered backwards as it cradled its broken face.

Alexandros ignored the screaming as he stepped away, preparing for the next blow.

Burklak didn't disappoint. With a wide swing of his broken claw, the Warboss shouted, "COME 'ERE!"

Throwing his head back, the Primarch winced as the powered metal cut through his helmet, right above his left eye. Alexandros backpedaled toward the edge of the platform, adding some distance between himself and the giant Ork. As he retreated, Darshan quickly undid the latches as blood poured down his covered face. Sensitive technology protested the blood's presence as his left lens fizzled out. In three seconds, the last latch was undone before Darshan popped his helmet off.

Burklak, who had been chasing Alexandros, paused as he saw the helmet come off by itself. The surprise gave way to a toothy grin as he pointed a thick finger. "HA! Ain't so pretty now, you weird 'umie!"

Already, the superficial wound had closed. "Said the xeno with tusks."

Burklak bristled. "Oi! My tusks are proof of my superity, my supperioria...my super-ness!"

"Vocabulary could use a bit of work. Regardless," Alexandros continues as he looked around the platform. "You're alone, and I intend to collect your head as promised."

"BWA HA HA HA HA! Yur barely 'live, weird 'umie and wit no sword. How's ya gonna pull off me 'ead?"

Alexandros glanced at his nearly-detached right arm. "You relied on your guards to deal this wound to me." He turned back to the warboss and grinned. "Fair's fair that I return in kind. Jorg, three degrees right, four degrees down." He finished as his voice reached out through the material and immaterial.

"Oi! Who's Jo-AHHHH!"

The detonation of a mass-reactor bolt destroyed Burklak's right kneecap. The giant Ork fell to his knees as he screamed, "MY KNEE! I'LL KILL YA!" As Burklak looked up from the ruined limb, he saw Alexandros charging straight at him, shield held forward.

A cacophony of metal exploded as one giant crashed into another. Burklak was thrown onto his back. Before he could react, a boot slammed against his forehead, forcing him to expose his entire neck. He saw Alexandros standing above him with the edge of his shield pointing straight at him. In the blink of an eye, Alexandros slammed the shield into Burklak's neck. A crushed windpipe, a broken spine, and a damaged nervous system barely registered to the Ork's mind as Alexandros continued to hammer the shield down, each force growing in strength and speed. Blood splattered as skin gave way beneath the savage barrage. Until finally the beast gave one last shudder as Burklak's head rolled off of it.

For a moment, silence reigned.

It was promptly broken by the last, blind Ork left on the platform. "Boss? Whaz goin' on? I don't hear no fightin'."

Alexandros spared a glance at the Nob before he turned to Jorg and the assault marines marching onto the platform. Nodding to the greenskin, Alexandros commanded, "Put it out of its misery."

With a trigger, a thunderous explosion echoed over the place before dying away. As he approached, Jorg looked over his Primarch with a stern expression. "My lord, how badly injured are you? We can have an apothecary here in four minutes."

Wiping away some of the dried blood on his left eye, Alexandros replied, "On a scale of 1 to 6, one being on Death's door and six being full health, I'm a solid four."

Jorg pressed. "And your arm?"

"Will heal in due time. For now, we have other matters. Jorg, grab my sword. Gunter, my shield. Sergeant Volk, status of my strike force," Alexandros ordered as he swept his vision across the massive cave.

The space marines snapped to as the sergeant began his report, gesturing to fleeing greenskins at the other side of the cave. "My lord, as you can see, with the Ork warlord dead, Ork resistance here is crumbling. Our forces are advancing swiftly with few casualties. Additionally, brief skirmishes among the xenos as leadership conflicts occur between the larger Orks for control. These are spreading and will probably reach the rest of the horde on this space hulk within the hour."

"Indeed," Darshan affirmed as he cast his gaze toward the future. "It won't lead to a total collapse, but this battle will not last much longer. In one hour and seventeen minutes, we'll begin the final phase as we shift to search-and-destroy protocols."

Alexandros turned away from the fight as he handed his shield to Gunter. The Storm Rider had to holster his pistol and mag-lock his chainsword to hold onto the shield which was as large as he was. Jorg waited next to him, holding the Primarch's blade.

With his good arm freed, Alexandros reached down and grasped Burklak's severed head before lifting it as high as he could hold it. "As you heard before, ring the bell of death, my sons."

Jorg took care to hold the sword horizontal to the shield before he striked. Again, a piercing tone cut through the dimming orchestra of war.

"My sons!" Alexandros declared as he amplified his own voice. "Rejoice! For I have claimed the head of their warboss! With it, I declare victory is ours! No longer will this be a battle, but a slaughter. Hunt the greenskin down. Leave none alive. For the Emperor wills it!"

The Legion answered, "FOR THE EMPEROR!"

Chapter 6: A Different Kind of War

"Gunner," Alexandros called out. "Add six degrees to the left." An affirmative returned the Primarch as he dispassionately watched the battle before him. Once the command was completed, Alexandros ordered, "Fire."

The Elpis' nova cannon answered its master's will and released a powerful shot that shook the ship. Mere seconds later, a small star appeared in the midst of the enemy warships. The detonation outright destroyed one white capital ship while four more were crippled. With that last attack, the last organized resistance was no more. From this point on, the enemy fleet was reduced to a scramble for survival as the 35th Expeditionary Fleet pressed the offense against the survivors, specifically targeting the nacelle-engines. After all, it was Alexandros' explicit wish to spare as many of the human crew members as he could.