A shockwave burst the commissar like a ripe tomato and threw the squad into the air. Kasrkin Captain Alexander Gallardi landed with a crack that felt like it'd broken his ribs. He pulled himself up, snatched up his lasrifle and checked his sword and pistol before looking around. The squad had vanished and Gallardi was now alone... or at least as alone as one can get in the middle of a warzone. His half brother was an Inquisitorial acolyte and he knew he'd be saying "Adapt, Improvise, Overcome!" His squad might have been MIA but he was alive and kicking... and wouldn't go down without a fight. A screaming Chaos cultist dove at him from the right and he merely punched a single lasbolt through his head. The reaction had taken less than a second. Sprinting forward, Alex drew his sword and disembowelled the nearest cultist. Ahead, a group of hostile Chaos psykers were attempting to summon some form of Daemon. Gallardi knew that that event would be catastrophic for the defence of his home. He accepted death and charged, firing searing pulses of las into the psykers. Four of them dropped to leave the remaining four attempting to kill him and stabilise the sorcery they'd wrought. Numbers Five and Six were incinerated by his plasma pistol and Number Seven was sliced in two.
"Stop! Stop!" The last one pleaded. "If you kill me now, we'll all die!"
"So be it." Alex said impassively before impaling the psyker on his sword. The psyker's magicks exploded. Gallardi felt a blink of light and sound and fury roil over him before he blissfully passed out.