Slayer's Vengeance

by Jago-Dakari

A meeting between a yautja huntress and a human marine turned vengefull slayer will shake the very foundation of both races in this story of adventure, love and loss.

33. Chapter 32

Hey all

GOOD GOD did I go overboard on this chapter! I honestly tried to get this done quick but more and more ideas kept crashing in once the gears got turning. Then again this is a boss fight so it has to be epic. But, now that it's over and done with, i can focus on the next chapter which will hopefully be shorter and quicker to get out for christmas.

So anyway, this is the climactic battle that we have been gearing for. The Primarch is free and an ancient war has resurfaced on this ice world. Alaric, the initiates, the Archangels and the crew of the Karak now stand between it and the resurgence of the Dark times. Will they succeed? And at what cost? Now bear in mind, there will be some sensitive scenes in this chapter so if you have a love of animals, you might want to skip a bit. What the fuck was i thinking to include it, but it helps to flesh out the Primarch.

so anyway, read and leave me a review in the box below, AND KEEP UPDATES TO THE FUCKING PM BOX!

Sorry, too many late nights. Walks off to bed and collapses

---

Chapter 32 Slaying the dragon.

The Primarch.

A devourer of countless races was now free from its ages long imprisonment. The remnants of the prison that had contained it for millennia orbited it's colossal form, shattered and useless. Held aloft by the will of the creature that, to a primitive race, could very well be a god.

The Karak was completely engulfed in it's shadow, marker lights illuminating the craft's outline like a glow-worm under a boot. Those on the bridge could only watch and weep as the realisation set in. Or get seriously freaked out by it's size as was the case of Kra'vyx and the Archangels. Alaric however was just staring with intent.

Intent of how to rectify the problem.

Kazrik was whispering in Khazdryn, a litany or a prayer passing his lips. No doubt to steel himself, and those on the Karak, for the coming battle. And, from the way some of the crew reacted, they were going to need it.

"Oh, what the fuck were the Xel'khala thinking?!" Jari cursed, holding his face in his hands. "Don't they remember what happened last time?"

"They lack brains, you know that!" Treval yelled from below.

Varlin pivoted his seat to Kra'vyx, pipe in mouth, and he was not impressed to put it lightly. His brows were so furrowed it looked like his eyes had shrunk into his head, leaving a penetrating abyss that glared at the initiate.

"Have you idiots forgotten about the Dark Times?!" he questioned in a more fluent bout of yautjan, pointing his pipe in accusation.

"All I heard about them were stories." Kra'vyx hastily explained. "Everyone at home didn't believe they existed."

That explanation did little to sway Varlin's tirade.

"No excuse!" Varlin scolded, pointing his pipe at the young yautja like a grandparent would to their grandchild. "You got lax and forgot about them. Shameful!"

Alaric was keeping an ear open as Varlin admonished the initiate an a phrase popped in his head.

"Those who do not remember the past, are condemned to repeat it." Alaric recited, not taking his eyes of the Primarch.

Varlin turned to Alaric, processing the words in his head before nodding in approval. Obviously, that phrase resonated well with dwarven traditions.

"Good choice of words." Varlin praised.

Varlin pivoted back to Jari. Kra'vyx meanwhile growled with displeasure at this slight sign of Alaric taking sides. Alaric was not siding with the dwarf, rather he just made a comparison.

"Jari, get us out of here!" Varlin ordered. "High altitude!"

Jari immediately complied, pulling and pushing levers as his co-pilots did the same and the Karak began gaining altitude at a rapid pace, the ship rumbling as they climbed. As they rose, they saw a scrolling view the Primarch's gargantuan form, making out many ascetic details in it's bodily structure. Remnants of the countless races that it and it's kin had consumed, evidence that the Primarch assumes the most beneficial traits. Within its form, pulsing energy could be seen coursing through it's body like blood through arteries and veins.

When they reached it's head, the Primarch actually turned to their direction. It was watching them. It did not roar or screech, it just watched with eerie silence as streams of Aethyr coursed over it's crown. And as they gained more altitude, it spread it's wings in a gesture of taunting aggression as if it was going to take off after them. Instead, it just shifted it's feet and stayed on the ground.

"It's got wings, why isn't chasing us?" Hicks asked, pointing down at it.

"It waits." Kazrik said. "It knows it needs us to escape this world."

The Karak ascended fast, the clouds drawing over them like water over a rock. But through the clouds they could make out a purple glow with light streams shining through the gaps.

The holographic displays on all terminals suddenly blipped back into existence as the Karak reached a higher altitude, far from the Primarch. Evidently, as Stonefather Kazrik explained, the Primarch's innate aethyric presence was causing significant disturbance to holographic-based technology. It was fortuitous that the dwarves had more tried-and-tested systems for such an emergency.

The Karak left the clouds, trailing long streams behind it as the ship held altitude over the cloud line, thousands of feet in the air. The hole in the clouds that the Karak had punched through was slowly begin to meld together like an open wound.

"Jari, hold altitude." Varlin ordered.

Jari pulled levers and the Karak's ascent slowed before the ship maintain a steady heading. The rumbling of thrusters lowered to a steady drone as the gravity-matrix sustained their position. Like Varlin said, counter a planet's magnetic field with another field and one levitates.

Everyone could breath a bit easier now that they were some notable distance from the Primarch. Now they could think about how to deal with it. And that was going to take some lateral thinking.

"So, the big bug is loose and, more or less, not in a good mood." Karl reminded. "What do we do?"

The answer was an almost unanimous one.

"We hit it fast and hard." Andrzej declared. "If this ship can punch through tectonic slabs of rock, it can punch through a tectonic bug."

He was followed in that proposal by the rest of his squad. Even Kra'vyx gave a nod in approval. Many of the dwarves on the bridge gave loud yells of encouragement, along with insults at the Primarch's expense. For them, the phase-lances was the best course of action.

However the only ones who were not joining in the raucous was Kazrik and Alaric. Kazrik was slightly swaying his head, like he was disagreeing with the plan or maybe he was in a trance. From the way his silver irises were glowing with white light, the latter was suggested. Alaric on the other hand, knowing what the Primarch was capable of, having felt it in his mind before, knew that it would not go down without a fight.

The shield-hawk Aegis was feeling the same as he hopped onto Alaric's lap from his perch on the throne. In the avian's mind, one could get a glimpse of the bird thinking how it would protect Alaric from this.

"Glad we're in unison." Varlin praised.

The priest at that moment snapped out of his trance, blinking the glow from his eyes.

"Thane, Korrina has assessed the situation." Kazrik relayed.

"And?" Varlin asked.

"Using the phase-lances has the higher chance of success." Kazrik explained. "But a miss may prove catastrophic."

"How?"

"If we fired at full power, the lances could penetrate right down to the core of the planet. The result is killing the planet by causing it's core to literally blow itself to bits in one massive eruption."

"Krakatoa on a planetary scale." Hicks compared. "Like that mountain it was under."

"And a violation of the Concordance." Kazrik added, with a tone of seriousness.

That outcome didn't sit well with anyone. The Karak was able to withstand a raining mountain but, even with it's armour and shielding, there was no possibility of withstanding a planetary explosion. Hicks was calculating it as something akin to a supernova but on a smaller scale, and with much more geological debris flying through the void then superheated plasma.

"However, on minimum charge, we eliminate the possibility of planetary destruction. But the Primarch could use cover to block the lances." Kazrik added.

Varlin pressed a button on his seat.

"Bardin, the phase-lances." Varlin asked.

"Five minutes to minimum charge." Bardin reported on the comms. "If we divert more power from non-essential systems to the Phase-Core, we can get it charged sooner."

Varlin was of mind that sooner was better then later.

"Everyone will have to deal with no hot water for the moment." Varlin decided with a jibe. "Do it."

"With pleasure!" Treval yelled from below.

While Bardin and Treval worked fast to divert power to the phase-lances, relaying orders to engineering, the issue of containing the Primarch reared it's head. While it may be holding it's position at the moment, it may decide to head to a more advantageous location. One that provided more cover then it's already exposed position.

"We have to keep it pinned." Varlin decided. " Gunners, fire main cannons."

"Thane, that won't work against it for long." Jari pointed out.

"Doesn't mean we can't keep it busy." the thane countered.

The Karak's lower emplacements pivoted and aimed downrange as the ship veered into line. Screens blipped onto the canopy, keeping track of the Primarch on the planet's surface. The Primarch looked up at the Karak, seeing the cannons were aiming directly at it. It cocked it's head at this show of force, seemingly unconcerned as it waved a hand in a circular pattern. The orbiting rubble glowed with a purple sheen and began to change direction.

"Keep it pinned for the lances." Varlin ordered. "Fire!"

The cannons fired a concentrated volley at the Primarch and the same time it drew its hand in a wide arc. The fragments of the prison and the large boulders orbiting around it swiftly arced into defensive positions, trailing energised particles in their wake. And each electromagnetic round was blocked by the orbiting rock that this time was not pounded into dust. The Primarch was holding them together with it's will. Glowing fractures could be seen as the hunks of masonry spasm and quivered with each impact before reforming like a geological jigsaw puzzle, drawn by eldritch tendrils.

Another volley was fired and the same result happened again. Arcing stone that did not turn to dust.

The Primarch was toying with them with this impromptu game of electromagnetic darts.

"Not having any effect, Thane." a dwarf voxxed. "It's blocking everything we're throwing at it."

Varlin puffed on his pipe as he watched the Primarch on the screen. Smoke seeped through his beard as he thought on their next action.

They had to keep it busy for the phase-lances to charge.

"Keep it busy." Varlin ordered. "Random patterns of fire, vary munitions, don't get into a routine."

The gunners obeyed and this time they began sending out varying patterns of intermittent volleys and various munitions. Flak rounds, high explosive and projectiles that the dwarves nicknamed 'Khazdryk's hammer', essentially a dense high yield round akin to depleted uranium in terms of kinetic force delivered, even by railgun standards.

The Primarch was now evidently showing effort as the multitude of incoming fire rained towards it. Effort in the manner of a good workout. Its masonry shields holding up with only minor damage, aside from the ones that were being hit by the 'hammer' rounds which imploded into dust. Those hit had huge holes blasted into them as the impacted rock fractured into showers of gravel.

But for every boulder that was blasted to bits, another was levitated out from the rubble ocean.

It was like the Primarch was welcoming this bout of exercise to stretch it's legs after thousands of years of imprisonment.

Kazrik watched the Primarch on the holo-screen, his eyes shimmering. What he was seeing on the screen, unseen by those who lacked insight, was the Primarch's presence. Like a shadow unseen, it was spreading over the rubble ocean and through the air. Like smoke given off by it's aura for want of a simpler description.

And with it's influence spreading, that was a concern for the... weak minded.

He turned to the Archangels.

"When it emerged, were any of you feeling... odd?" Kazrik asked the humans. "Any strange sensations? Whispers?"

The Archangels gave no mention of feeling anything other then dread on account of the Primarch's size and abilities. Nothing odd was going on inside their heads as far as they can tell. Aside from the 'voices' from that soul shard hours ago.

"Good, Korrina is shielding us from it's influence." Kazrik praised.

"Xenomorphic Indoctrination?" Hicks compared.

"If that's what you call it."

A holoscreen blipped into existence from Varlin's chair. Maja was on the line and the doctor had a very concerned and possibly frightened expression on her face.

"Thane, we have an issue." Maja reported. "It's one of the manlings."

"What's wrong?" Varlin asked.

Strained grunts and whines were heard, coming from one of the beds next to her.

"Its simpler if you see for yourself." Maja said, moving the screen to the source of her troubles.

When the screen focused on the source of the patient in question, those on the bridge saw that it was Kenneth laid out on the bed. He had his hands on his head, face strained and teeth clenched as if he was suffering an intense migraine. His wife and son were by his side, fretting over him.

Kazrik watched as he gripped his staff tighter. In his eyes, he could make out a faint lambent glow seeping out from the colonist's clenched eyelids.

"Help him!" Mel begged.

"The voices!" Kenneth strained. "My head is tearing up!"

His words carried weight as bloody tears was starting to seep from his eyes. He then gave out a pain-filled yell as, rather horrifically, he started clawing at his eyes.

"Get them out!" he screamed, blood tricking from the gouging. "Get them out!"

His wife and child were understandingly frightened by the self mutilation, Mel shielding her son's eyes from the butchery. Kenneth's attempt to dig the voices out of his head.

"Hold him down!" Maja ordered as two nurses rushed towards Kenneth. "Stonefather, we need you down here, now!" she urged, pulling out an injector pistol.

The nurses were thankfully able to prevent Kenneth from permanently blinding himself, pinning his bloodied hands under their weight down as Maja rushed forward. They struggled as Kenneth writhed and yelled, the adrenaline pumping through his veins giving him strength to make the dwarves lose their footing several times. The doctor jabbed the needle into Kenneth's neck and injected a powerful sedative into his bloodstream. It took a few agonising seconds to take effect, the two nurses having to literally dog-pile onto him, but Kenneth's yells started to slur and he soon calmed into a bloodied sleeping heap. The nurses took the precaution of strapping Kenneth's arms down and and began cleaning him up.

"Why is it always the eyes that go first?" a nurse muttered, examining the sleeping colonist's bloody eyes, holding up each eyelid and shining a light in on each bloodshot eye.

"He should be good for a few hours." Maja hoped, sheathing her injector and wiping her apron. "When you're ready, Stonefather."

The screen blipped out. The priest turned to the humans and suffice to say, the Archangels were lightly shocked from the self mutilation. Not that they were unfamiliar as some of the more fanatical xeno extremists performed ritual mutilation, often just before a battle or as to bear more 'resemblance' to their divine messiahs. Notably, in regards to Kenneth's 'predicament', high ranking patriarchs replace their entire eyes and eyelids with jet black cybernetics to mimic the eyeless visage of the xenomorphs.

They believe that, aside from intimidation factor, it grants insight to God.

"He wasn't... converting was he?" Andrzej asked, suggesting that the colonist was reverting back into a bug.

"Being a former host, he's more sensitive to it's influence. Even with a barrier in effect." Kazrik curtly explained. "He'll need my help, lest he relapses to madness."

They were interrupted by the news of impending devastation.

"Phase-lances at minimum charge." Bardin voxxed. "We're ready to fire.

"Set them to converge for maximum effect." Varlin ordered. "Jari, line us up."

Jari veered the Karak down, lining them up with the Primarch. Of course this was very disorientating for the humans, who were not accustomed to be standing perfectly as steep angles. On the screens, everyone could see the Primarch continue to block all the incoming fire from the cannons. The top emplacements began to concentrate fire, aiming to divert it's geological shielding as the Karak got into position.

The lances at minimum power, despite their awing potential, could be countered by the Primarch's orbiting masonry as Kazrik explained. They had to get an opening when it couldn't block.

They had a plan to do so. And that was to light the sky ablaze.

"Soften up the bastard." Varlin declared, pointing his pipe at the screens. "Hit it with everything we've got!"

"Arming batteries!" Treval yelled. "One shit-storm coming up!"

The missile batteries in the Karak's wings opened up, the tips of their various payloads peeping out. The beam turrets on the wings aimed in unison, their barrels glowing. On the canopy, readouts blipped on, indicating the various shipboard weapons arming and cross-hairs highlighting the Primarch's floating boulders.

"Fire!" Varlin commanded.

The missiles batteries fired a massive salvo of rocket-propelled munitions. Both small anti-fighter missiles and large anti-capital ship torpedoes, decorated with typical Khazdryn motifs soared down, trailing smoke and vapour. The beam turrets fired their energised streams, the beams coursing down with pinpoint accuracy and speed.

The Primarch was silent as it held it's hands up, glowing with purple light. It's floating shields rapidly arced into each incoming projectile with a speed unmatched by mere lifting. The missiles impacted the boulders with thundering cracks, coupled with bright explosions. The beams sliced through boulders, causing them to heat and crack through thermal shock before fracturing into chunks.

The barrage lasted for nearly ten seconds, a multitude of explosions and flashes erupting all around the Primarch. But with so many projectiles impacting it's defences, some would eventually break through. Several of the torpedoes had managed to penetrate it's defences and impacted the primarch with thunderous detonations. This caused the gargantuan xenomorph to buckle under the barrage, causing several of the boulders to lose their glow and drop to the sea beneath in showers of rubble. To those watching on the bridge, they came to the conclusion that the Primarch's concentration was disrupted by the impacts. Then they saw the rest of the ordnance destroy the remainder of it's shielding while it was momentarily dazed. The remnants of which crumbled down to become part of the rubble ocean.

The Primarch was now out in the open with no cover and they had their opening.

"Fire the lances!" Varlin yelled.

The Karak's jewelled eyes glowed and energy arced from the crystalline emitters before fired their beams of incandescent destruction. The phase-lances seared their way down to the Primarch, slowly converging to one central point.

Everyone was holding their breaths as they saw the readouts indicate the lances' path. On the screen they could the Primarch regain it's footing, looking up at the beams coming down to it. And, upon seeing it's imminent demise, it did something that out of place.

The Primarch smiled that characteristic grin and held up a glowing hand. Eldritch glyphs, belonging to a long extinct race, flared into life and circled it's hand ritualistically as the glyphs drew purple trails from their orbits. The phase-beams soared right at the Primarch converging for maximum effect, arcing energy dancing between the twin streams.

For those watching, they were about get a horrible surprise.

A ring suddenly materialised, glyphs lined with purple flame, in front of the Primarch where the phase-beams would connect. The phase-beams struck the ring and, for lack of a better word, just passed through and vanished into nothing.

The Archangels were speechless and understandably gobsmacked at this sudden lack of reality and the laws of physics. The dwarves, especially the stonefather, however knew what was going to happen.

"Oh kruk." Jari said, in apprehensive dread as he slipped his goggles back on.

"Displacement!" Kazrik warned.

"What?" Andrzej questioned at the term.

The Primarch raised it's other hand. Another flaming glyph ring flared into existence in front of it and, much to everyone's shock, the phase-beams came shooting out, fusing into one deadly stream. Kra'vyx ducked behind Alaric's throne while the Archangels shouted in a mixture of shock and downright terror. Jari and his co-pilots pulled hard on their sticks to shift the Karak out of the way as the beam of accelerated particles towards the Karak. The Karak, all booster thrusters firing, just barely managed to evade the beam that burned a bright path before them. Passing just inches from the hull, the phase-shields flared into being, causing a pattern of criss-crossing lightning to arc between shield and lance. The cracking energy coursed over the immediate area, causing sparks to violently erupt in energised arcs.

"Holtzman effect!" Hicks yelled, citing another Dune reference.

What Hicks meant is that in Dune's fictional universe, a laser hitting a shield could cause a violent subatomic reaction akin to a thermonuclear explosion. And he was certain that the effect that the phase-shields was going under could lead to a similar outcome.

Fortunately, no such reaction occurred other then a violently intense light show that rippled across the entire ship. On the bridge, holoscreens flickered and fizzed as the backlash of energy caused interference. Some screens even erupted sparks of fragmented light. The lighting even failed several times.

The phase-beams soared high into the sky, vanishing into space. Being that the lances were only on minimum charge, it did not take long for the particle beams to dissipate. The rippling arcs of energy ceased too as the lances faded.

It was undeniable that the situation was now official FUBAR as the Marines would put it. And as one vocal crewman pointed out.

"That fucking cheat!" Treval cursed loudly.

That sudden counter-attack against the most powerful weapon the Karak had provoke a major reaction from the humans. Something that had defied their expectations of what was possible.

"Did it just shoot it BACK at us?!" Mac asked.

"That's impossible." Andrzej objected. "That praetorian couldn't deflect Alaric's beams."

"Not deflect. It displaced the phase-lances." Kazrik explained. "Enters at one point, and came out in another. Like a miniature Gate."

"So it rebounded in a way." Hicks postulated. "Like a bullet through a curved tube."

"One way of putting it." Kazrik confirmed.

"That's put the kibosh on that plan!" Karl pointed out.

"Thane, the phase-shields have been knocked out." a dwarf crewman called out. "Engineering is working fast to restore them."

"And now, adding insult to injury, we're a hovering duck." Sergei added.

On the holoscreens, they saw the Primarch held up a hand and it's arm began to glow. Streams of aethyric energy channelled through it's arm, gathering in it's palm from lightning crackling from it's fingers. An eldritch orb gathered, pulsating with power with every surge and swirling like a whirlpool.

"Thane, the Primarch is targeting us." Jari relayed.

Varlin clenched his pipe in his teeth.

"Shields!?" he asked into his intercom

"Still out!" was the answer he got from Engineering.

"Then let's hope the armour holds." Varlin said, puffing on his pipe nervously.

The Primarch aimed at them, as the orb flashed violently. A bolt of aethyric lightning shot out with a massive crack of power. Shooting at supersonic speed like a railgun, the bolt reached the ship before those on the bridge could hear it crack. It narrowly passed the bow of the Karak, blindingly fast and leaving residual sparks dancing on the hull. The passing aethyric-electrical field caused the holographic displays on the Karak to momentarily short out as the bolt passed and dissipated.

Everyone let out their held breaths.

"It missed?" Varlin questioned, pulling his pipe from his teeth.

"That was a warning shot." Kazrik warned. "It won't risk damaging the Karak too much."

For Alaric, this was confirmation on what had to be done.

Alaric tapped buttons on the throne and the sound of his armour shifting filled the bridge. The throne lowered and Alaric got up, his armour retracting from the throne and back into combat configuration. Aegis jumped to his shoulder.

"Alaric?" Andzrej asked.

Alaric walked to the back of the throne, to the shield holstered on the rack as Kra'vyx was ushered out of the way.

"We need to get down there." he said, hefting the shield up and walking to the bridge entrance. "Now."

That course of action was met with understandable criticism.

"Alaric, that nuts. The dropships will be swatted out of the skies." Andzrej pointed out.

"Like flies to a bug zapper." Hicks compared.

Alaric attached the shield to his arm, the bands shifting over his arms with the distinctive rapid clicking as he stopped at the door. The assumption that dropships would be easy targets was not lost on him. What they need was something with a bit more firepower. Or, as seen with the dwarves aptitude with magnetic accelerators, a lot more firepower.

Alaric turned to Varlin.

"Do we have any other ships?" He asked, picking his helmet up from the throne. "Ones with main guns on them, preferably?"

"We have more then dropshps here."Varlin informed. "We have corvettes and fighters ready to deploy as we speak."

The mention of light warships docked inside the Karak caused a question to emerge.

"Wait, you have corvettes in this ship?" Andrzej asked. "And they fit INSIDE?"

The dwarves looked at each other. To them, it was common practise for corvettes to be docked in ships.

"Err, if you design them properly, yes you can." Jari called out, turning his head. "Why do you ask?"

"Lets just say, ours are not designed with compactness in mind." Hicks hinted.

Alaric tapped his shield on the throne

"In that case, to the hanger." Varlin farewelled. "I'll notify an escort to meet you in the Hub. Good luck, my lord"

Varlin activated his intercom and relayed orders as Kazrik walked up to Alaric. The stonefather placed a hand on his shoulder and gripped his staff tight.

"My lord, do not underestimate the Primarch." he warned.

"I won't." Alaric asuured before turning to Kra'vyx. "Kra'vyx, stay on the bridge." Alaric ordered. "Don't follow me."

"Alaric..."

"Just do it." Alaric demanded, rushing to the bridge's doorway. "Almost lost you twice, not tempting a third time."

Andrzej and the Archangels followed after him as Kra'vyx could only watch. Kazrik walked up to the initiate to offer some consolation while Varlin resumed his command on the bridge, issuing orders to the crew who were even now preparing for the coming battle.

---

The elevator doors opened and Alaric and co stepped out in the Hub that was now ablaze of activity. Dwarves were rushing about the place, getting to their stations or hauling trolleys of much needed supplies to wherever they were needed. Dwarf warriors, clad in their imposing armour and wielding their deadly weaponry, were briskly marching to a single location at the barking of their veteran commanders.

Colonists and marines were also about, being ushered to one of the safe zones on the Karak. Zone's which were the most secure and at least risk of hull breach. Reinforced bunkers so to speak.

They were swiftly greeted by a dwarf warrior, clad in a lighter variant of Khazdryn armour lacking the huge pauldrons and scale mail and he was swathed in runic camouflage fabric complete with a cloak and hood and a goggled mask. Obviously, he was not a front-line fighter but he was armed with a gauss rifle that sported a longer barrel, lacked a grenade launcher, a scope mounted on it's top rail and, surprisingly, it was a bolt action rifle instead of semi-automatic.

He was evidently a ranger.

"My lord." the dwarf greeted, holding a fist to his chest in a salute. "The hanger bay is this way. Follow me."

The ranger then ran, as fast as a dwarf could, in the direction of the elevators that would take them to the hanger. Alaric and co followed suit, their boots thumping loudly on the deck. As they ran, they passed Lysandros and Cryus. Both of them, as spartans would normally do before a battle, were combing their hair and Lysandros was his into long ponytail. Obviously, this was to ensure that that his hair didn't get in the way during a hectic brawl. They then placed their Corinthian helmets on and proceeded to join a squad of dwarves that was waiting for them.

According to their guide, the two spartans were to be back up if things went beyond FUBAR.

The golem Igneous was seen plodding along, encumbered by a whole slew of children that refused to leave his side. He was muttering under his breath in Khazdryn, no doubt his usual combination of griping and dour disgust. It was a good thing the children could not understand what he was saying as some of the words would make a dwarf's beard wilt.

The ranger led Alaric and the squad to an elevator, amidst more dwarven crew rushing about, and ushered them in before holding a hand to his ear.

"They're on their way, coming down now." he spoke on his comms before punching the button. "Good luck, my lord." he farewelled.

The elevator doors slid shut and the elevator began it's descent. The squad went about checking their gear just like any other mission.

"I'm hoping that corvette has a big enough gun." Karl hoped.

What he meant was that corvettes used by the Colonial Navy were used primarily as escorts for frigates and capital ships. As such, their armaments were usually light, only used for engaging fighters and other corvettes, though some of the latest corvette designs with heavier weaponry are capable of engaging frigates.

"Don't worry, if the Karak's weaponry has this much firepower, that corvette should have ample." Alaric assured.

"I'll be more assured when I see it first, not before." Karl stubbornly answered.

The elevator suddenly stopped with a slight lurch, almost taking the norwegian off his feet, and the doors opened after a few moments. They arrived at the hanger deck and they were in awe at the sight before them as they stepped out.

Occupying a whole forward section of the ship, the hanger deck was stocked with aircraft of all types. Dwarf pilots, clad in their fur lined flight suits reminiscent of fighter pilots of the second world war, were being ferried about in large buggies. Dwarf warriors were present, forming into squads at their designated areas. And, coming out of freight elevators on large flatbed trucks, were large metal constructs similar to the golem Igneous. No doubt another form of automaton and on racks on another truck were large gauss weaponry, basically up-sized versions of standard gauss rifles. Autocannons, twenty millimetre from the bore of the barrels, in human terms.

But most of the work going on was clean up duty. Drums, ammunition crates, unused vehicles and equipment were scattered all over the place as dwarves rushed to clear the runways and paths. Buggies and other vehicles such as tugs and supply trucks were used in the efforts. Evidently, things were not so secure in the hanger during the meteor shower.

A six wheeled open cage transport, that looked like a heavily stripped down APC, pulled up in front of them with the screeching of brakes, the dwarf driving it waving to them and honking a deep sounding horn.

"Hop in, manlings." the driver, sporting a neatly forked beard, called out. "Your assigned craft is waiting."

Everyone boarded the transport, barely having time to get to a seat before the dwarf revved the transport away. As they drove fast and hard, with the dwarf habitually making the buggy swerve hard as he steered, they came across the first ship to catch their eyes.

The dwarvern corvette, much like the vessels from earth, was a patrol craft smaller then frigates. It was about a hundred metres long, twenty metres high and sixty metres wide at their furthest points. A fraction smaller then human craft. Visually, it looked like a smaller and more squat version of the Karak, minus the greek prow and yautja decor. There were four large engines arranged in a quad fashion for VTOL capabilities with secondary thrusters at strategic points. Armaments-wise, the dwarve's version of a corvette was like a mobile gun platform built around a large railgun for use against hard targets. There were also quad barrelled gauss turrets at strategic points on the top and bottom of the craft. The bridge was located at the front within a six panelled armoured canopy that allowed a good view for the frontal arc. Essential for firing the main gun of which the barrel's tip was located beneath the canopy. There were also two forward gauss cannons on either side of the canopy that the pilots could directly control.

There were two other corvettes that made up it's squadron, stacked up in racks in the centre line of the hanger and their crews rushing towards them, and there were two other squadrons in their bays further up. In addition, there were many varieties of shuttles and dropships that also bore quad engines, neatly arranged in various bays and racks.

Also in the hanger, docked on multiple levels were fighter craft, which followed the dwarven principal of heavy armour and firepower, that vaguely resembled helicopter gunships with twin VTOL engines and retractable wings with positional thrusters. The canopies, in a much revered way, were sculpted in the likeness of griffons. Their armaments were the traditional sort as a fighter craft would have, automatic cannons and a payload of missiles, rockets or bombs depending on their role. These were formed into squadrons of seven fighters and there were ten squadrons in the racks.

In essence, aside from being a capital ship, the Karak was also a carrier for a small fleet. And the fleet itself was cleverly arranged to make use of as much space for as many ships as possible. And that answered the question on how they were able to fit vessels as large as corvettes in their hangers. No different then stacking cargo containers once you think about.

The main reason why most of the dwarves' aircraft are VTOL based is that having evolved on a mountainous world, open space was at a premium and a craft that could take off and land in a confined space was favoured. However, conventional runways had been used in locations with enough space for them, or failing that carving them out of the mountains themselves. But the dwarves are practical by nature and any advantage is welcome.

The manner on how these ships were deployed was rather straight forward as could be plainly seen. The fighters, shuttles and dropships launched via the hanger doors under their own power or via a slingshot system using magnetic accelerators and gravity-fields. The corvettes were deployed, much like the cheyenne dropships of the colonial marines, by simply dropping from their racks through the airlock doors directly beneath. They would then be docked via a tractor beam.

The transport skidded to a juddering halt at the loading ramp of the corvette they would be boarding, right at the far end of the hanger deck. The ship's crew, some dressed in flight suits and other in more technical clothing denoting crew position, could be seen hauling trolleys loaded with gauss rounds and other supplies up one of the loading ramps. On the hull, by the bridge canopy, was a runic emblem of a gauntlet clenching a lightning bolt. In Khazdryn script under the emblem was the translated name 'Thunderfist'.

"End of the line. Everybody out." The driver called, tooting his horn.

Alaric and the Archangels hopped out of the transport, getting a closer perspective of the corvette. From the looks in their eyes, they were liking what they were seeing. Up close, they could see in detail just how superior this craft was compared to a human corvette. The armour was thicker and of more refined alloys, geometrical with plenty of slopes to maximise deflection. A simple but very effective concept. The turrets were made close to the hull to minimise it's profile and could also retracted into the hull when not in use. And maybe to lull attackers into thinking the corvette was a non-combatant.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" Sergei said, eyeing the main railgun.

"That is some ship." Mac said in awe.

"Oh yeah, one of our most proven designs, this." the driver agreed. "Been in use way before my great grandfather was even conceived."

"Too much info." Sarah said, trying not to think about the facts of life that involved dwarves.

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it." Karl quoted.

"You can say that." the driver said, nodding before revving the transports engine "Have fun!" he farewelled, driving off to pick up more pilots with the screeching of tires.

"There goes Leadfoot again." a dwarf muttered, holding his ears. "Learn to drive, man!"

Leadfoot. No doubt that was name the driver had earned from his lack of finesse behind a wheel.

Alaric and the Archangels walked up to the dwarves at the loading ramp. Some of the crew gave notice to them with a nod or a grunt as they heaved their cargo aboard. Cargo that turned out to be gauss rounds, 15cm in calibre from the look of it, in a variety of munition types.

Considering that 7.62mm gauss rounds hit with the force of a round, they could only think how much damage one of these slugs would inflict.

They also saw that the dwarves had assembled body armour, comprised of helmets with blast visors, cuirass and segmented pauldrons, greaves and gauntlets, lined up in six bundles and waiting to be equipped. All were made to human specifications and dimensions. Given the decoration on the armour, wings and so forth, and the lack of scale mail, that it was apparent that this type armour was worn exclusively by flight personnel. To allow rapid movement in a confined space.

And they looked a lot more sturdy then their own armour, which by this point was beginning to show notable signs of fatigue from lack of proper maintenance.

The lead dwarf, no doubt the captain of the corvette as evidenced by his gold ornamented flight suit and richly decorated beard, came walking up to them, grabbing a helmet from the nearest armour bundle.

"Here." he called out,casually tossing the helmet to Andrzej who was the closest. "Get out of that tin foil, strap these on and get aboard."

Andrzej caught the helmet, a fully enclosed variant, and looked at it. Design-wise, it was reminiscent of German sallet helmets from the fifteenth century with a segmented tail section that protected the neck and would allow for freedom of head movement. The visor was a solidly built and armoured respirator that covered the entire face with a slit for the eyes, similar to ballistic masks. The helmet also had an inbuilt comm unit to allow communications to be established with the ship and crew.

And in a historical note, the sallet is considered the precursor of the modern combat helmet. Starting with the Stahlhelm from germany in the first world war, right up to the current M12 combat helmet for the Special Operations Division.

Sergei could agree with the dwarf's observation, regarding his own armour literally crumpled like foil when he got lashed by that xenomorph's tail. And none of his squad squad fancied going under the same ordeal he did. The Archangels went about unlatching their old armour and strapping on the new. They quickly found that the armour, despite looking cumbersome, actually fitted well, considering the one-size-fits-all approach.

"Solid stuff." Karl praised, thumping his fist on his new cuirass and hearing dense thuds.

"Have we got guns to go with these?" Sergei asked, slipping his cuirass on before hissing through his teeth as his ribs protested.

"Oh yeah, we got a fully stocked locker on board." the dwarf captain assured. "Rifles, heavy weapons, take your pick."

Sergei praised in his native tongue at the thought of holding a gauss rifle again. The one that the ranger had been carrying had him curious. Would a bolt action be more powerful then a semi-automatic?

Alaric approached the dwarf. The dwarf held a fist to his chest in a salute.

"Captain Belgrym Cloudbreaker at your service, Lord." the dwarf greeted.

"How soon before we launch?" Alaric questioned, urgency in his voice.

"We're just loading up when hell broke loose." Cloudbreaker replied. "That meteor shower caused quite a mess down here."

He was of course referring to all the scattered avionic gear that had been dispersed throughout the hanger.

"How soon?" Alaric asked.

"Ten minutes. Five if we just drop without prep." the dwarf estimated.

A loud clatter and yelling was heard, followed by a tumbling of gauss rounds rolling from the ramp. Cloudbreaker cursed loudly in Khazdryn, adding several more minutes to the estimated launch time as he walked towards the ramp, his crew rushing to stop the munitions from vacating the premises. The Archangels were quick to grab the rounds that rolled near them, albeit with a hefty amount of caution.

Thankfully, gauss rounds were only lethal when fired, relying on kinetic force to inflict damage. So there was minimal risk of spontaneous detonation unlike conventional explosives. Though that being said, considering the tungsten-like density, one would not want to get a foot crushed by a runaway shell.

"Are you idiots still drowsy from stasis or are you smashed already?!" Cloudbreaker shouted, planting a boot firmly on one runaway shell.

Alaric, taking advantage of this disturbance, walked over to the nearest hanger door's control pad. He saw that unlike the cargo hold, this one had a conventional lever instead of a hand print. The runic script verified that this was the hanger door's manual release. Alaric pulled down the lever, twisted the handle and pushed the lever into the wall. The hanger bay lights began to flash and the hatch began to ease open with the whirring and whining of gears and servos, inner and outer doors splitting horizontally before forming an armoured canopy. As it opened, a shimmering energy field projected in the open space, protecting the interior atmosphere from the high altitude climate.

Alaric leaned over the edge, his boots magnetised to the deck for stability, shielding his face and Aegis from the winds with his shield and peering through the clouds at the faint glow obscured below. Where the Primarch still dwell on the surface. Alaric drew back into the field before he risked the chance of losing his nose to frostbite.

Alaric nodded as his shield unlatched from his arm before holding it by the rim. Andrzej looked up when heard heard the shifting metal and saw Alaric was precariously standing at the hanger edge.

"Alaric, what are you doing?!" Andrzej yelled, rushing over.

The rest of the squad, seeing what was happening at the hanger's edge, followed after the captain in several states of preparation. Cloudbreaker was too busy getting gauss rounds stowed to notice the uproar. Les so when they began cursing in his native tongue.

Alaric turned to the captain, tossing over his shield. The captain caught hold of it, almost getting floored by the weight of it. Aspis shields from ancient times were over seven kilograms and made from multiple materials, and considering this one was made of entirely of metal, it was a bit heavier then the originals. And no soldiers in this day and age would ever have need to heft one, unless they decided to do the Hoplitodromus.

The hoplite race from the ancient Greek Olympics.

"I'm finishing what my ancestors started." Alaric declared. "I'm killing this bastard!"

"What are you talking about?" Andrzej questioned, losing his grip on the shield.

The shield clanged loudly on the floor, just missing Andrzej's feet. He bent down to pick it up by it's grip. And they saw the wings on his greaves beginning to glow. An ominous hint as to his intentions.

"You can't be serious." Andrezj apprehensively said as a thought began to form.

"This is suicide." Karl pointed out, having figured it out. "If the bug doesn't kill you first, the ground will."

"If this thing doesn't die, everything will be consumed." Alaric reminded as Aegis hopped off his shoulder and hovered in place.

"The corvette is nearly ready to go." Hicks added, trying to sway Alaric from doing anything foolish.

Alaric briskly jogged back to them, putting his corinthian helm on. The lenses glowed into life and the glowing iris' focused on the squad.

"See you on the ground." Alaric said, before drawing his hand axes.

That confirmed what everyone was thinking. More so when Alaric sprinted towards the open hatch, his armoured boots stamping the stone decking. Once he had his mind set on something, nothing could deter him. And less so considering the armour he was wearing.

"Alaric!" Andrzej yelled.

Alaric's winged greaves flashed into life and he jumped from the open bulkhead, through the atmospheric shielding with a bright flickering flash and dived down from the Karak. Aegis quickly followed suit, turning into light and darting after his master. Everyone rushed over to the hatch, watching Alaric, made visible by his crimson cloak, got smaller and smaller as he plummeted fast and disappeared into the clouds

"I hate it when he does that." Sergei cursed, holding his chest as he felt his ribs flare up.

"Fuck me, he's doing a HALO jump!" Hicks exclaimed.

"I hope that amour has jets or something." Karl hoped. "If not, he'll make a fine crater."

Mac pulled out his kamikaze headband in a gesture of black and ironic humour.

"Maybe I should've given him this?" he quipped.

Some of the squad gave a nervous laugh as Andrzej determinately planted his helmet on his head and slapped the visor down with a notable clang.

"To the corvette." Andrzej ordered, his voice synthesised by the respirator and hefting Alaric's shield on his back. "He's not fighting that thing on his own!"

The squad shouted their agreement in unison and they ran towards the corvette.

---

As Alaric hurtled down through the clouds, the storms began to grow again with the ominous rumbling and dull flashes. And with it, visibility was becoming increasingly difficult. Fortunately, his helmet provided adequate enhancement to his sight, switching various modes with but a thought. His cloak billowed around him as he drifted towards his target, bearing a stark resemblance to a famous comic book hero. He kept his axes tight in his grasp, ready for the attack.

Aegis kept close to Alaric, before over taking him and vanishing into the clouds. Alaric knew that the shield-hawk was going to be surveying the area, keeping alert for any hidden dangers that the Primarch may have in wait.

Lightning began to pulse and crack within the clouds, tendrils of charged particles licking against Alaric's armoured form. They arced and writhed, trying to find purchase as if guided by the malevolent force that generated them.

Alaric kept his eyes locked on the purple glow that he could make out through the aethyric-charged clouds. And as he did, he couldn't help but wonder the one thing going through his head.

What the fuck was he thinking?

"This is so stupid." Alaric said to himself, with a hint of black humour lacing his voice.

He was then answered by the armour's other occupant.

"Do you always leap before you look?" Gri'nyr asked.

"Spur of the moment." Alaric answered nonchalantly. "Once the adrenaline flows, I go along with it."

"Like Kas'tigyr." Gri'nyr mused. "In that case, let me make a quick modification."

Despite the sound of the rushing wind, Alaric was able to hear the characteristic shifting and clicking of metal when his armour first changed. He looked to his arms and he saw finely linked chains snaking their way from his gauntlets' wrists before attaching themselves to his axes' pommels, intertwining like roots of a tree.

"Just a little technique Tse'los used." Gri'nyr commented. "Just don't choke yourself like I did once."

Alaric gave the axes a quick twirl through the air, seeing the chains arc gracefully and smoothly through the rushing wind before retracting the axes back to his hands.

"I can work with that." Alaric thanked.

But his praise was soon blotted out by a more pressing matter. Alaric could now hear the whispers starting to form in his mind. Only this time, instead of a multitude of voices whispering in distinctly and at once, the whispers were unison.

"You come." the whispers greeted. "Remnant of Precursor Blood."

It was the Primarch.

Alaric broke out of the cloud layer like a bullet exiting flesh, trailing cloud vapour behind him. Below, he could see see the Primarch. It stood motionless in the ocean of rubble, more fragments of it's prison orbiting it's body, aethyric energy coursing between stones as they passed each other. These fragments were now bearing broken statues of Gri'nyr's folk, evidently the prison's interior. The carved masonry hummed through the air into wide arcs. Alaric's phasecasters pivoted out and flared out energy, braking his descent and allowing him more manoeuvrability as they adjusted their output.

He glided between boulders, through gaps in masonry and statues as he got closer. And the closer he got, the louder the whispers were getting. Alaric found that the whispers would only act in unison when the Primarch was directly speaking to him. Otherwise it was just an incoherent assault of random noise on his senses.

Alaric was sure he was going to be weeping blood at this point. But then the whispers died down into a faint chorus of indistinguishable notes and tones. Like hearing through a solid wall. Alaric quickly postulated that Gri'nyr was actually blocking the Primarch's from his mind.

"Much better." he praised.

"I can shield you from it's influence to a degree." Gri'nyr assured "But you must move quickly. Or you'll suffer more then crimson tears."

Gri'nyr's presence within the armour was detected by the Primarch.

"Ah, my old adversary." The Primarch praised. "Now nothing more but a ghost in a machine. How the mighty have fallen."

Alaric drew his axes back as he prepared to strike. He locked his eye on one boulder that was arcing on an intercept course with him.

"You intend to fight." the Primarch questioned. "Pitiful. Brave but pitiful."

Alaric threw his axes, the fine chains trailing behind them as they flew through the turbulent air. They connected to the rock as it hovered past, the blades digging into the stone and Alaric swung out towards the Primarch.

"Remnant." the Primarch warned. "Don't destroy yourself as Gri'nyr had. Fighting a war that did not concern your blood."

"Compassion was never the Ossian's forte." Gri'nyr countered. "And less so for their creation."

Alaric jumped onto another boulder as it hovered past. Pulling his arms, his axes flicked out of the stone and the chains retracted them back to his hands, catching them deftly. Gaining his balance on the orbiting stone, Alaric looked up at the Primarch towering over him, boulders and statues of it;s former captors circling it like planets around a sun.

"Stubborn." the Primarch said in feigned admiration. "Very well then, lets begin."

The Primarch's wings, arms and crown glowed as boulders all around it acquired their aethyric sheen. And one by one, the orbiting lumps of rock changed their course and were hurled right at Alaric.

Alaric jumped from boulder to boulder, slab to slab as he evaded the Primarch's throws. The many tonnes of rock being pulverised into dust with thunderous crashes either by crashing into each other or hitting the rubble below. Several times, Alaric came close to being rendered into paste and was showered in gravel. Four times Alaric jumped and dodged and four times Alaric cheated death by a hair.

He found himself grabbing onto the polearm of a statue. Hauling himself up, he looked up to see another boulder hurtling towards him. He ducked at the last moment and the boulder took the upper body of the statue off in with a loud crash and a cloud of dust.

Alaric looked up again over the statues midriff and ducked under another boulder, smashing through the statues remaining torso and leaving a pair of stumps for legs. With his cover being smashed away piece by piece, Alaric began firing his phasecasters at boulders. Beams of energy blasted the incoming rock into rains of gravel.

The Primarch was looking on with a renewed interest. Like it was expecting so much more from Alaric. That what it was seeing was no where near what it thought Alaric was capable of.

"Don't tell me that the centuries of interbreeding had slowed your blood down?" it questioned with mocking intent.

Alaric dodged the incoming boulder with a twist and aimed his phasecasters at the Primarch.

"Does it look like I have a fascination with banjos!" Alaric yelled, firing a blast at the Primarch.

The beam merely glanced of it's carapace like water on a rock. Alaric surmised that he would have to get closer if the phasecasters were going to have any effect. But that would prove to be easier said then done at this rate of progress.

"Banjos?" the Primarch questioned before getting the reference with humourless laugh. "Not the meaning I was thinking but it gets the point across."

Then something struck the Primarch with much more force.

The Primarch suddenly buckled as a loud and violent shower of sparks erupted from the back of it's head, followed by a loud electrostatic crack. The Primarch staggered forward a few thundering steps, spraying rubble in it's wake before it regained it's balance. Alaric looked up and he saw the corvette, Thunderfist, coming through the clouds, all four engines flaring brightly and veering to towards the Primarch, it's railgun barrel glowing with electrostatic power. A squadron of fighters burst through after the corvette in an escort formation around the ship.

The corvette got closer and, from Alaric's enhanced vision, he could see the Archangel's, in their new armour, on the corvette's bridge.

"Alaric, heavy support is available!" Andrzej called on the comms.

The Primarch looked up at the corvette in what could be described as annoyance. The sort that happened when a pesky bird defecated on an unsuspecting bystander's head. While it was obvious that the shell did not cause significant damage, it certainly had one hell of an impact top make the Primarch stagger. It raised a hand, purple lightning arcing between it's fingers. A bolt of purple lightning pulsed from it's palm, arcing towards Thunderfist. The corvette's thrusters flared and the ship veered out of the way, copping only a glancing hit that it's shielding could counter with a flash.

"We'll draw it's attention. Try and find a weak point, lieutenant." Andrzej ordered.

The corvette veered up fast, it's engines flaring brightly as it's gauss turrets began firing at the Primarch. The electromagnetic weaponry delivered punishing fire onto the Primarch, who was merely shrugging it off like it was being pelted by a pellet gun and blasting at the corvette with aethyric lightning. Alaric took this opportunity to get closer while his squad kept it busy.

Alaric from his perch on the ruined statue jumped hard and fast, his greaves glowing bright. Soaring through the air, he threw his axes towards the Primarch. The Primarch merely waved an arm at him as a boulder flew into the axes' path. The blades stuck fast and Alaric was abruptly carried off with the flying rock.

The Primarch wasn't going to make his approach easy.

Alaric hauled himself up the boulder so he could see what was going on. The fighter squadron soared down next in a cross formation, unleashing a volley of missiles and cannon fire. The missiles arced down to the Primarch, some being intercepted by flying masonry and the rest found their mark, detonating with loud bright flashes. The impacts were a minor irritation as the Primarch began lobbing boulders the size of houses at the fighters. Thanks to their VTOL capabilities, they were able to evade the incoming rock while keeping the Primarch in their sights.

But they were doing their job in keeping the Primarch's attention from him.

Alaric braced his legs, whipped his axes out and pushed off the boulder. His phasecasters flaring, he glided over to another boulder, landing on that before jumping off to the next one. Getting another run up, he jumped off as his phasecasters flared up, sending him soaring over to the Primarch. Alaric threw his axes and they dug into the Primrch's carapace where it's navel would be, allowing him to winch himself in. he dug his boots into the Primarch's carapace as he landed.

Step One: Get to the Primarch, Alaric thought. Step Two: Kill the bastard.

Wrenching an axe free, Alaric began to scale up the Primarch's body like tackling Mount Everest, digging his axes into it's carapace like a pair of climbing picks. His boots adapted to the task by forming spikes on his toe caps and soles, giving him much more grip.

As he climbed, he gave glances behind him to see the ongoing battle. The corvette Thunderfist was making bombing runs against the Primarch, firing it's main gun before boosting off out of reach, firing volleys from it's turrets. The fighters kept up their harassing manoeuvres, firing a burst from their guns before boosting away out of reach. And he could see Aegis darting around, keeping him in sight.

One fighter got clipped by a wayward boulder, losing it's right wing as it was sheared off in a furry of sparks. The fighter spun hard before the pilot regained control and boosted the damaged craft away from the fight, siring a final salvo of missiles as a parting gift.

But they were fulfilling their job. Diverting the Primarch's attention from Alaric.

However, the sound of crunching carapace was caught by Alaric's audio sensors, followed by a warning cry from Aegis, and he looked up to see what was ahead.

Clawing their way from the Primarch's torso carapace ahead of him, like newborn Surinam Toads, xenomorphs came forth. These xenomorphs however were nothing like those fought before. They appeared more insect, more arachnid from the way they moved, like predatory spiders. They were also a pale white unlike the jet black carapace of normal xenomorphs. Their intelligence seemed to be more of a gestalt hive mind, as they all moved as one. One mind in multiple forms.

Alaric surmised, given the gargantuan size of the Primarch, that these xenomorphs likely fulfilled a similar purpose to the immune system. And that is to eliminate any potential threats to the Primarch that have made contact. And he was certain of that when the xenomorphs surged to eliminate said threat.

Him.

"Shit!" Alaric cursed, seeing the mass of albino xenomorphs swarming towards him like a living avalanche.

"I AM the hive." the Primarch decreed. "I am Many and One."

"Means more times that I kick your arse!" Alaric yelled in defiance.

Alaric drew back an axe and held it in his hand. He looked around for another point he could jump to. But as he did, the xenomorphs converged on him. Alaric lashed out with his axe at those who got close, the chains reaching out in wide arcs and slicing through xenomorph carapace, the bisected corpses raining down around him. Alaric jumped up and down the Primarch's abdomen, using the archaic ridges in it's carapace as footholds and carving his way through the swarm.

Evidently, they relying on their strength of numbers then tactical prowess. Like how white blood cells would destroy virus as such. Swarm and engulf. Even so, Alaric had to be careful that they did not outflank him.

Alaric aimed his phasecasters and fired short pulse bursts into the swarm to get more space to move. Xenomorphs were blasted of by the dozens, their ruptured smoking bodies dropping like the proverbial flies. But for every one that that fell, there was another instantly to take their place.

Aegis swooped in, wings turning into light and driving into the swarm, scattering disintegrating xenomorphs like bowling pins. Alaric Jumped into the void that Aegis had made and the shield-hawk repeated the manoeuvre again, the two of them getting a pattern.

Fighting his way up to the Primarch's sternum, and causing a steady rain of death as he did, Alaric pushed off from the Primarch and leapt onto a passing boulder. Aegis swooped after him, his plumage resuming it's usual glow. Digging an axe into the rock, he hauled himself on top. And he was greeted by the gaping maw of a xenomorph that was waiting for him. Evidently, these xenomorphs were capable of taking initiative if the situation demanded it.

Alaric was certain that he was about to have his skull trepanned.

The xenomorph's head exploded into meaty acid-sizzling chunks, some of which splattered on Alaric's helmet. before it's body was yanked away by the sheer force of the impact, flailing down into the shifting rubble ocean. Another xenomorph, pouncing on Alaric from behind was blasted in mid air with a gaping void in it's chest.

Looking ahead at the source of the shots, too small to be from the corvette's gauss turrets, Alaric could see the corvette and he could see a surprising sight that brought a grin to his face. Sergei, supported by a harness attached to Thunderfist, standing on the loading ramp and working the bolt on a bipod-mounted anti-material gauss rifle which was being braced on a dwarf crewman's stocky shoulders. Over the comms, Alaric could hear Sergei singing a lively russian folk song loudly over the comms while picking off targets left and right like he was at a fairground.

He was in sniper heaven.

Alaric shrugged and continued on his way, now that he as getting some sniper support. He jumped off the boulder and back onto the Primarch. He fought his way through the xenomorphs while dodging, blasting and hacking his way up. Sergei continued to snipe those xenomorphs who thought they could flank Alaric, heads popping and chests bursting with every pull of the trigger.

Gaining momentum, he jumped off the Primarch, his phasecasters flaring for extra thrust, as another swarm threatened to box him him.

Alaric drifted onto another hovering slab, measuring twenty metres in diameter, landing deftly with his axes raised. Looking back, he could see three of the xenomorphs pouncing after him, landing several feet from him. A forth was shot out of the sky by Sergei before the corvette veered out of sight as it evaded another hurtling boulder. Alaric sheathed his hand axes and brought out his great axe, tapping the blade onto the stone in a gesture of challenge.

The first xenomorph pounced at him, jaws open and inner jaws jutting out. Alaric swung with his axe while rolling to the side. The xenomorph jumped over him and Alaric drove his great axe right into the xenomorph's sternum with a crunch. The xenomorph, giving off a pained screech was then slung off the slab and into the air, impacting another orbiting boulder with a crack and a spurt of acid ichor.

Like a bug hitting a windscreen.

Alaric rolled to his feet, hefting his axe in both hands as the next two pounced at him. Evading and parrying their attacks with his axe, Alaric began his own attack. Fainting his axe to the right, Alaric suddenly changed his attack to a brutal pommel bash to his attacker's jaw. Following up with this attack, Alaric brought the axe blade down into the top of stunned xenomorph's skull tip first. The metal edge punched through its cranium and with one hard tug, Alaric popped the top of it's skull and face like opening a can. The partially decapitated xenomorph fell onto the slab, it's brains spilling out in a steaming heap.

The second xenomorph, sensing an opportunity, pounced on Alaric from behind. Alaric casually aimed his phasecasters behind him and unleashed a pulse blast. The xenomorph was promptly blasted off the slab with a half it's torso blasted into atoms.

But in eradicating his attackers, there was now a major problem.

Alaric was now in the open.

The Primarch looming overhead, casting it's shadow over Alaric, now had an open shot. And Alaric realised that he had been set up. Now he was beginning to think that ditching his shield was a fatal error.

"Die." the Primarch calmly said as it;s crown began to glow and cracked with power.

Alaric reflexively held up his great axe in defence, knowing that he was going to take the full brunt of this attack. The Primarch blasted out a crackling bolt of aethyric lightning, distorting the air around it.

Then something unexpected happened.

As the aethyric lightning surged towards Alaric and he was bracing himself to be subjected to more power then natural lightning, the rune on his axe glowed. And, through a process that Alaric was not even aware of, the lightning was drawn to the axe like a lightning rod, connecting to the blade with a high resonating metallic song.

Alaric flinched as the lightning made contact with the axe but, after realising that he was not getting blasted to dust, opened his eyes. He looked at the blade and the iris in his helmet's lenses widened when he saw a myriad of patterns glowing from the axe's blade and haft. The blade itself was arcing purple lightning that slowly faded into a pale blue that shimmered within the blade.

The Primarch stopped the stream at the sight of this unexpected resistance.

That's a first! Alaric thought in stunned surprise as he saw the glow pulsating within the metal, highlighting the alternating folding bands and the hidden runes that till now were never seen.

The Primarch however knew exactly what was going on.

"Aethyric blade?" the Primarch realised with mild intrigue. "The Khazdryn managed to forge Precursor weaponry? Interesting."

And another individual, the previous owner of the axe, was equally surprised.

"Eitri, you surprise me yet again." Gri'nyr praised.

"What is this?" Alaric asked, holding a hand over the axehead.

The glow reacted to his touch , drawing tendrils of energy with his passing fingertips.

"It's an Aethyric Blade, a 'God-forged' weapon as younger races call it." Gri'nyr revealed. "And the Primarch just energised it."

Alaric looked ahead at the sound of screeching and he saw another swarm of albino xenomorphs streaming towards him from recesses of the Primarch's body. Alaric held the glowing axe ready, the blade emanating power.

"Focus." Gri'nyr instructed. "Use the axe as a conduit to unleash it's power. Will it into being."

Alaric breathed slowly before swung his great axe at the xenomorphs, focusing his mind at remembering what he saw in Gri'nyr's memories. His axe flashed and discharged the stored energy in a wide crescent blade of power. The scything blade of power travelled blisteringly fast and sliced cleanly through the charging xenomorphs, flawlessly eviscerating them in a wave of death. Dozens of xenomorphs sliced in twain feel to their demise from the slab.

"Impressive." Gri'nyr praised. "Not bad for a first timer."

Alaric watched as the axe's glow faded and stopped. Conserving what power was left in the blade. And that gave him impetus to continue the offensive.

"Lets do this!" Alaric yelled, reinvigorated by this new addition to his arsenal.

He jumped from the slab, boosting himself towards the Primarch. Sheathing his great axe and drawing his hand axes, he threw the chained blades a the Primarch's carapace, digging into the chitin and reeling himself in. he landed with a loud crunch as his spiked boots dug into the carapace. More xenomorphs came streaming at him and just as many were being sliced to ribbons as he continued his path of death.

Alaric fought his way up, looking back for a moment and seeing a boulder hovering past. And Alaric could see that this flouting rock

Alaric jumped on the boulder hovering in front of the Primarch's head. And both his phasecasters locked into firing position, drawing light particles into their barrels as they charged.

"Displace this!" Alaric yelled, his phasecasters aiming.

Both barrels unleashed their power, beams shooting out at blinding speed. At this range, there was no feasible way that the Primarch could displace or deflect them.

The Primarch caught the blast right in the face and it's face was completely engulfed in the roaring barrage of accelerated particles. The Primarch suddenly froze in place, giving the impression that it's nervous system, along with it's head was burning into dust.

Over the comms, the Archangels and dwarves could be heard cheering and giving encouraging commentary as they saw the Primarch copping an energised facial.

"Head shot!" Sergei shouted.

"Melt that fucker's face off!" Karl yelled over his comms.

Alaric kept up the barrage as long as his armour could sustain it. Warnings blipped in his HUD as the phasecasters were reaching critical levels. In fact, Alaric could begin to smell the undeniable tang of heating metal. He ceased firing as soon as he saw the beams fluctuating, the beams fading into nothing and leaving a thick smog culminating on the Primarch's face that obscured it's features.

Those watching were sure that the Primarch's head had been burned right to the bone and would leave nothing but a blackened skull.

But then the smog and smoke cleared, and something was revealed that proved to be unprecedented and quite disturbing.

The Primarch's face was blackened and slightly burnt. But aside from that, it was virtually unscathed. The blackened carapace sizzled and cracked as it flaked off in a charcoal shower, revealing fresh carapace beneath. Nothing more then a bad sunburn by comparison.

"No fucking way!" Karl was heard in disbelief.

"That's not possible!" Andrzej added with shock.

The Primarch looked down on Alaric as a rippling sheen of energy coursed over it's crowned head. It had it's own variation of a phase-shield, or in this case an aethyric-shield. That was the only way it could have survived the phasecasters at such a close range with only minimal damage.

"Are you deliberately trying to antagonise me?" the Primarch questioned.

Alaric aimed his phasecasters again, drawin more energy to the barrels.

"Because you're succeeding!" the Primarch roared in Alaric's mind.

The Primarch's maw began to glow and aethyric energy began coursing from it's teeth in fiery arcs. It was going to unleash fire like the Praetorian did.

Alaric fired again as the Primarch breathed out it's own barrage. Both beams, in a mirror of Alaric's clash with the Praetorian, connecting a binding flash of interweaving blue and green. The stalemate lasted for several long seconds before the green began to overwhelm the blue. Alaric adjusted his phasecasters to widest beam possible in an attempt to divert the flames. But having pushed them to their limit only moments before it wasn't long before they began to fail. And as the green flames were inching closer and closer, Alaric could feel the intense heat radiating from eldritch fire.

He had to move now.

Alaric was barely able to jump out of the maelstrom's path, the baleful flames roaring past him. Alaric hurtled off the slab, his armour on his back and cloak smoking acrid vapour from the near miss. Alaric strained in barely concealed pain as he felt searing burns on his skin, despite the armour protecting him. Flaming tendrils lashed around him, sending searing pain through his entire body, overloading his senses. He landed hard on another orbiting slab shoulder first, rolling onto his front just a few inches from the edge and the flames burned into him for a few seconds before they died out. His armour was indeed glowing hot like it was fresh from a forge, but it was merciful cooling rapidly from the cold winds, his cloak and horsehair crest was singed and melted. And Alaric was certain that he had suffered at most second degree burns. If he had not been wearing this armour, he would have been rendered to ash before he could even flinch.

"Shit." Alaric strained, clenching his teeth. "Too close!"

His armour reacted to the damage by shedding the outer layers, blackened flakes dropping off like slag scale being hammered off and new layer's forming beneath. His cloak glowed and turned into light before reforming itself into pristine condition while his horsehair crest reformed. His phasecasters however were blackened and sparking from overuse. It would be some time before they were ready for firing. But the actual pain in his body was taking time to numb down. Hopefully from healing and not from nerve damage.

"Thank god for regeneration." Alaric praised dryly. "Gri'nyr?"

There was no answer. Maybe the deeping damage to the armour had damaged him too? Alaric had no choice but to assume that Gri'nyr would not be able to help him any more.

"Pathetic." the Primarch gloated."Your blood diluted from generations of bastard stock."

Alaric looked up at the Primarch, eyes straining as the whispers began filling his head, breaking past Gri'nyr's wards. And he was certain that he was going to be weeping blood any moment now.

"The Ossians were fools and their bastard children just as foolish." the Primarch lamented with fake emotion. "Oh, the irony."

A shrill avian call filled the air as Aegis flew into view, swathed in light. The Primarch barely noticed the hawk as Aegis began energised swoops at it. He glanced off the Primarch's carapce in bright flashes, attempt to reduce it's carapace to dust. But it was a futile effort. The Primarch's aethyric power, rippling through it's body was too great for the hawk to overcome.

Alaric watched as the hawk continued to assault.

"Aegis, get... away." Alaric strained to speak as the assault on his mind was beginning to overpower senses. "Get away."

The Primarch glanced down at Alaric, noting his desperation towards the hawk's welfare and a sadistic thought occurred in it's unfathomable mind. It focused on Aegis, it's crown flashing with aethyric power before the hawk was suddenly wrenched from the sky by an unseen force. Wrapped in an eldritch purple haze and unable to move, Aegis was drawn towards the Primarch as it leaned closer to the paralysed bird. And it was there that the torture began.

"Quite a persistent pest aren't you?" the Primarch said, maliciously raising a claw and holding it over the hawk. "And I don't like pests."

The Primarch raised a finger and Aegis squawked loudly in pain as his wings were pulled backwards sharply with a loud crack of dislocating bones. Both his wings lost their glow, followed by the rest of him. In a sickening parody of a puppeteer, the Primarch began to 'animate' Aegis. Alaric strained harder as he tried to get to his feet, even now feeling warmth seeping from his eyes. But all he could manage was a loping crawl. The Primarch decided to keep Aegis in his clutches, to watch as his master was torn limb from limb. Even as he was being slowly torn himself.

Alaric was deeply unsettled and to put it lightly disgusted at this sadistic treatment. Animal abuse was something that always got him to the core. Although, he was perfectly fine with hunting in that he always killed quickly, deliberate torture was just despicable.

"Leave him be!" Alaric strained through clenched teeth, reaching for his greataxe. "Leave him be!"

The Primarch pretended to ignore Alaric's demands as he continued the puppet show, moving Aegis's limbs in ways they were not suppose to. It could see that this was getting right into Alaric's head. Another swarm of xenomorphs, this time numbering in the hundreds were streaming down the Primarch's body. The horde moved and leaped as one entity from the Primarch. A tsunami of death to sweep Alaric to a dark demise.

"And in tides of death, humanity shall fall and from their grave, perfection shall rise." The Primarch preached.

Alaric, determined to go down fighting and to shut the rhetorician Primarch up, raised his great axe before pulling himself onto his knees to meet the coming horde.

A loud static crack filled the air, preceded by a massive explosion as the xenomorph infested slab exploded in a cloud of dust, gravel and scattered limbs. Alaric looked up as Thunderfist came rumbling in for another pass, its turrets firing rapidly into the swarm as it rose. Dozens of xenomorphs were torn apart in a barrage of electromagnetic rounds.

The Primarch looked to see where the fire was coming from and copped a railgun round to the chin. The impact caused the Primarch to buckle and lose it's grip on Aegis. The crippled hawk plummeted down to the rubble below, the purple haze fading into nothing. Alaric was quick to respond to his hawk's plight, lashing out with a hand and shooting the chain that would secure his axe streaking out. The chain arced out, Alaric guiding it's trajectory towards the falling hawk. In several tense seconds, the chain connected to Aegis and wrapped itself around the hawk's broken form. Alaric pulled his arm back, retracting the chain and bringing Aegis to him. Alaric caught in his arm just before he collapsed onto his side, cradling Aegis in his arm.

Alaric blinked behind his helmet, seeing his vision going red as blood pooled on his visor's lenses. The whispers in his head were becoming unbearable, making it difficult for him to think. He looked down as Aegis's battered and twisted form, unconscious but still alive. The Primarch's torture was clearly meant to main then kill, leaving his vital functions untouched while crippling those that weren't necessary for survival.

Alaric held a hand to Aegis's comatose head running a thumb over his dulled and tattered plumage.

"I'm sorry I led you into this." he apologised as the whispers were getting louder and louder.

He was certain that he was going to lose his mind. Until he heard something else. A different whisper.

"Alaric." a feminine voice was heard in his head.

A voice that broke through the whispers, drowning out the incoherent madness. At first he thought it might have been Ja'anya's voice, conjured up from his memories by the Primarch to torment him. But the accent was wrong. It sounded human. Alaric was quick to realise who that was. Aside from Stonefather Kazrik, there was only one other person on the ship that could speak through minds.

"Korrina?" he questioned

"It is alright." Korrina assured soothingly. "I am here to help."

"I thought I..."

"I know. Don't worry, Aegis will be fine. And Gri'nyr is merely held back."

He tried to speak again but Korrina shushed him softly as she began to chant in the Ancient's Tongue. And as she chanted a calming melodious chant, Alaric could feel the whispers dull and fade into obscurity While Alaric was relieved that the whispers had been dulled, he was also puzzled as how She was able to contact him from her... location on the Karak.

"How can..." Alaric started before he felt a deep piercing throb in his head.

The Primarch was still trying to get through to him. But as quickly as the throb came, the pain dulled down.

"The Unbound have ways even the Primarchs cannot harness." Korrina assured. "Listen to my voice. Focus your mind and I will guide you through the rest."

Alaric blinked blood from his eyes as he tried to concentrate as he heard Korrina's chanting. The whispers were intensifying but at the same time so was her chanting. And her chants were overpowering the whispers.

"How can you even get past it?" Alaric asked, his mind getting clearer.

"Unbound can operate from a transcendental plane." Korrina revealed. "Somewhere that the Primarch cannot reach and could never understand. Something their creators could never understand when creating them."

The whispers gradually died down into nothing. And for the first time since this battle began, Alaric's head was clear of any intrusion. And in his sight, at the edge of his sight he could make out the glyphs, the glyphs of the Ancients tongue, that were shielding his mind.

"It is done. Now go." Korrina whispered. "Finish what Gri'nyr started. Hunt the Marked."

"How can I beat the Primarch?" Alaric quickly asked. "It must have a weakness."

There was no answer. Korrina was gone but the wards she placed in his mind were holding. Keeping his mind together from the Primarch's machinations. And giving him the peace of mind to come up with a new strategy.

A loud blast was heard as fragments of rock pelted around Alaric and pinged off his armour. Raising his head, he saw the corvette roaring overhead, thrusters blazing and getting into a firing position against the Primarch.

---

"Get up, marine!" Andrzej ordered. "Get back into the fight!"

The Primarch looked up at the corvette and was met with a railgun blast to the face. But this time, through it's sheer force of will, the round stopped just scant inches from it's forehead. And before anyone could so much as gawk at this or even think to evade, the Primarch sent the round back to it's sender faster then anyone could blink.

The slug impacted the railgun and in a massive flash of sparks and rending metal, the whole cannon was punched through barrel to breech, smashing through the corvette's shields and bursting out the end. Thunderfist buckled hard under the kinetic impact of it's own slug.

"We're hit!" the dwarf captain yelled. "Ditch the gun!"

"Had to be one of our hammer rounds didn't it?!" the main gunner ranted as he hit a button.

The whole railgun apparatus was jettisoned from it's mounting with a loud crack of explosive bolts. The sparking mass of mangle metal plummeted down several meters before detonating in a mass of flying shrapnel that peppered the underside of the corvette. And that was when the Primarch struck.

"Hang on!" Andrzej shouted over the comms as a shadow blotted out the sky.

The Primarch swatted Thunderfist out of the way, the corvettes shields flashed violently. The ship thrusters flared as they regained control with the dwarf crew shouting and cursing over the comms. But not before being struck by an orbiting statue with a loud crash, causing them to be shaken around again. The Primarch the lashed out with it's tail, swatting the corvette away in a shower of sparks as the hull was breached by it's five pronged tail that tore across the bridge and the forward starboard turret from it's mounting in a shower of sparks and razor sharp shards.

An explosion erupted on the bridge and yell of pain was heard as the pilot was impaled by shrapnel through his shoulder, falling over his controls and pushing several unfortunate levers. The corvette spun wildly trailing sparks and fire behind it as it plummeted to the rubble ocean below, it's thrusters locked in a spiral.

"Pilot's hit!" Cloudbreaker yelled from his command chair.

The Archangels, years of training and experience kicking in, were quick to respond to this crisis.

"Hicks, controls!" Andrzej ordered, grabbing the pilot and heaving him out of his chair, blood gushing from his wound. "Dubois, work fast!"

Hicks rushed to the chair, hauling himself into the blood soaked seat as the medic pulled up her med kit for the injured dwarf laid out in front of her. Having observed the crew at work and getting a grasp as how their technology worked, Hicks began to rapidly push buttons and pull the levers before taking the sticks in hand. The Corvette's thrusters pivoted down and flared brightly, bringing the corvette into a stable downward arc just feet from the rubble below before gaining altitude with the roar of plasma engines.

The Scribe's 'gift' shone through once again.

---

The Primarch, thinking it had disposed of the corvette, resumed it's attention towards Alaric who had now gotten to his feet and was cradling Aegis in his arm. Alaric's helmet opened up, revealing the steady stream of blood that had been trickling from his eyes. But, to the Primarch's surprise, Alaric was no longer under the mental onslaught that it had been subjecting him to.

It realised that Alaric now had a mental block to it's influence.

"You no longer weep?" the Primarch questioned in surprise. "Interesting. One had help. Not from Gri'nyr."

It then realised.

"Unbound." it finished with what could be described as resentment.

Resentment of a power that lay beyond it's reach.

Alaric tapped his axe's blade into the stone beneath him in a sign of defiance. The Primarch only saw this as an opportunity to gloat.

"Why do you continue to fight?" the Primarch questioned. "Do you not see the inevitability of your demise?"

Alaric growled as he shut his visor once more, lenses flashing pointing with his great axe in a show of challenge.

"All I see is a cowardly parasite that hides behind stolen bodies." Alaric declared.

And for once, the Primarch paused by that accusation. Alaric had hit a nerve.

Perhaps it was true?

"I was created to be perfection incarnate." the Primarch corrected with venom lacing it's voice. "You and your 'race' were nothing but an unexpected by-product. Amistake they failed to rectify. And I was the means to do it. And when I'm finished with you, your precious Gaia will be next."

The Primarch moved towards Alaric as he raised his axe and kept Aegis close to him. Alaric had nowhere to run to now. no way of out running it and no support to distract the Primarch that was even now bringing his doom.

"My lord, heads up!" a voice, another dwarf pilot, was heard over them comms.

Alaric looked around to the source of the transmission and he saw one of the fighters, thrusters flaring on full thrust, coming right for him. He looked up and he saw the Primarch towering over him, one arm raised.

He had one chance.

"Grab on!" the pilot yelled, lowering his fighter's landing struts.

Alaric jumped out, his winged greaves glowing, as the Primarch lashed out with it's gargantuan claw, the talons of which missed by a scant inch and completely obliterating the slab in a cloud of dust and gravel. He grabbed hold of the fighter's landing strut and he was abruptly whisked away, holding Aegis tight to him. The Primarch watched as Alaric was carried off, clambering up to the fighter's canopy. A concentrated volley from gauss turrets to it's back brought it's attention back on the corvette, now sporting major scratches, denting and a gaping sparking gash in it's hull, with a gout of aethyric flame from it's maw.

Even without it's main gun, Thunderfist was still proving to be a persistent pest. Even so when the Archangels inside were firing from the rend with gauss weaponry acquired from the corvette's armoury.

Alaric got up to the canopy before tapping on the hardened poly-glass. The pilot inside the cockpit gave a quick glance to Alaric, confirming that he got aboard, before focusing on his flight path. Alaric looked back at the battle and what he saw was a grim reality.

The remaining fighters and Thunderfist were now hopelessly out gunned as they continued their evasive actions against the Primarch's counter-attacks. Despite their awesome firepower, many steps up from human weaponry, they were not making so much as a scratch on the Primarch so far. Any damage it had sustained was merely superfluous. And now he could see that the craft were now beginning to fall back.

Alaric was desperately trying to come up with a new strategy in his mind. Without the whispers in his head he was finally able to think clearly.

The pilot inside hailed Alaric, braking him out from his concentration.

"My lord, we're being called back." the pilot revealed.

"What for?" Alaric asked. "Regrouping?"

"Cataclysm." the pilot revealed. "In the event we fail, Stonefather Kazrik had given... permission to destroy the planet. In an attempt to kill the Primarch. We have ten minutes to dock before they carry it out."

Alaric was shocked that Kazrik had agreed to that drastic course of action. Considering that he was against the notion of destroying the planet. Things had to have been desperate enough for him to relent.

"They can't!" Alaric protested.

"I'm sorry my lord, but without the Scythe or Stone, we have no other option." the pilot apologised

Alaric thumped his fist on the fighter's hull in frustration.

Alaric looked back down to the battle, seeing another fighter going down in flames in front of them, missing both wings. However, in what could be described as stubbornness, the pilot inside was deliberately veering his burning fighter towards the Primarch. Boosters firing at the last minute, the pilot ejected out in his seat with a bang as the corvette veered in fast for pick up. The combustive fighter streaked smoke behind it as it impacted the Primarch with a loud explosion which the gargantuan xenomorph shook off. The corvette swooped in as the pilot landed on the lowered ramp and quickly grabbed by several crewmen.

Alaric, in a flash of realisation, had a plan. It was dangerous and blatantly suicidal but, in his mind, it was the only course of action left.

"Pilot, dive-bomb me to the Primarch." Alaric ordered.

The Pilot looked at him through the canopy. His wide eyes spoke of his confused reaction.

"What?!" he asked, thinking Alaric had lost his mind.

"Do it!" Alaric demanded. "It my be our one chance!"

The pilot looked forward, thinking before he nodded. Alaric had a plan and the pilot had an inkling on how to do it.

"Yes, Lord." he confirmed. "Getting to optimal altitude."

The fighter veered upwards sharply, both jets pivoting before blasting the craft faster and higher through the clouds. Alaric held on tight as they broke through the clouds before emerging before the Karak. A comm signal icon blipped in Alaric's HUD, indicating a hail. Alaric opened it and Varlin appeared on screen, Stonefather Kazrik was not to be seen, no doubt he was in the medical bay tending to Kenneth.

"Thank Khazdryk." Varlin praised. "My lord, get aboard now. We're leaving."

Alaric shook his head.

"I must apologise, but I cannot." Alaric declined.

"What do you mean?" Varlin questioned before dread filled him. "You're not wounded are you?!"

The pilot opened the canopy wide enough to allow Aegis' broken body to be transferred in as they hovered in place. The pilot carefully took hold of Aegis before placing the crippled hawk on his lap and securing him.

"I got unfinished business down there." Alaric revealed. "A Spartan never retreats."

"My lord!..." Varlin started before Alaric cut him off, the screen blipping out.

"Hold on!" the pilot warned, pushing his sticks forward.

The fighter's jets flared and the craft began it's rapid descent back to the Primarch. They broke through the clouds, guide by the faint glow. A screen blipped on Alaric's HUD and Varlin appeared again. Suffice to say, the dwarf was not impressed by Alaric's action.

"My lord, what are you doing?!" Varlin demanded with urgency. "You need to return now!"

"One last roll of the dice." Alaric curtly replied. "If this fails, we're all dead anyway."

"And you if you don't get back, you'll die!" Varlin pointed out. "I am not letting your bloodline go extinct!"

Kra'vyx at that point pushed his way into frame, much to the dwarfs protest. Alaric was pleased that he had stayed on the bridge all this time. And the young yautja had a resigned expression on his face, from the thane's repeated attempts to reason with Alaric. Kra'vyx, like the Archangels, had learned to just let Alaric get on with whatever he had up his sleeve. Arguing was only delaying the inevitable.

"Alaric, kill it so we can go home." he said with feigned resignation.

Alaric smiled as Varlin puffed his pipe in indignation.

"You got it." he said before the line was cut off as the aethyric disturbance proved too great.

The fighter broke through the clouds and Alaric and the pilot could see the Primarch below. All the remaining craft were heading away from it. The corvette Thunderfist, firing retro jets while keeping the Primarch in their sights, was now looking significantly more worse for wear, missing one of it's rear turrets, and there just three damaged fighters left hovering around and firing at the Primarch as a rearguard action.

They might as well be firing spit wads at this point in the battle.

The angle that they were flying was now in line with the Primarch for the dive bomb run. The pilot brought up a projection on his cockpit's targeting screen, highlighting their intended trajectory. Alaric was checking his armour, hoping that it would stand up for what he had planned. His life, and everyone else's, was depending on it.

"This is it. Any last words, Lord?" the pilot asked.

"Yeah: I wish I had a better idea then this." Alaric said with a morbid chuckle.

"In that case, let's get it's attention." the pilot added, flicking a switch on his board.

The fighter gave off a loud avian-like call as the fight dove down sharply through the sky. Like the jericho sirens from the Stuka dive bombers of World War Two, this was likely to intimidate and demoralise those about to be bombed. Or in this case, to attract the Primarch's attention.

The Primarch, about to finish off the retreating corvette with a handful of lightning, indeed looked up at the source of the sound and saw the fighter screaming down towards it. It shifted around as it focussed on this new line of attack the arcing energy dissipating in it's claws.

---

On the Thunderfist's bridge, the Archangels could only watch what was going on. Sarah had finished tending to the injured pilot, stemming the bleeding and stabilising the shrapnel lodged in his shoulder to prevent it moving and causing any more damage. It would have to be surgically removed back on the Karak. Fortunately, Khazdryn physiology was far more robust then a human's.

"This battle is a bit steep on the 'fucked up' scale!" Sarah said, wiping her hands on her fatigues.

"Steep? It's fucking vertical!" Karl corrected.

Hicks at the controls, and his sharper hearing kicking in, heard something. It sounded like a long droning call of some kind of large bird. But it had a synthesised quality to it, almost like a siren. Looking up to where he thought it was coming from, his eyes went wide.

"Captain, look!" Hicks pointed out with a finger.

Following his finger, everyone on the bridge saw Alaric riding on the fighter's wing on a direct course to the Primarch. The source of the siren-esque droning.

"What are they doing?!" Andzrej said.

"Kamikaze!" Mac exclaimed.

"Didn't they see what happened to the last one?!" Karl asked.

The pilot guided the fighter with Alaric readying himself on the wing. Alaric crouched down as he waited for the right moment to jump. The anticipation from what he was about to do was gut wrenching.

"On my mark." the pilot said holding up a hand with three fingers raised.

Alaric's greaves glowed as he channelled power to them. He gripped his hand axes, the chains snaking around his hands and the axe pommels for a secure grip.

The pilot counted down. Three fingers. Two fingers. One finger and then a clenched fist.

"Mark!" the pilot called.

Alaric jumped off the fighter fast as a bullet as the pilot pulled out, greaves flashing drawing both his hand axes. The fighter's retro jets kicked in as the pilot executed a tight turn before boosting back up to the Karak.

As he hurtled down, cloak billowing behind him, Alaric was keeping his eyes locked on the Primarch, hoping that it would take the bait. If it didn't, then he was as good as dead. And everyone else with him. The Primarch's jaws opened but there was no aethyric flame ready to incinerate him. And this is exactly what Alaric was hoping.

Much to everyone's horror on the other hand, Alaric flew right into the Primarch's maw, giving off a lour war cry in his ancestral tongue. He vanished into darkness as the Primarch snapped it's jaws shut with a loud crack like thunder, damping out his roar.

The dwarve's on the corvettes bridge cried out in horror as they saw Alaric eaten alive by the Primarch. The Archangels did their grieving with a morbid and humorous tone.

"Yep, you should've given him your headband." Karl confirmed to Mac.

For the marines, humour was one of the best cures for grief from losing a comrade. In a universe where getting dismembered by xenomorphs and beheaded by yautja hunters, anyone would appreciate a bit a comedy to get them through the day.

The Primarch gave a loud gulp, finalising that demise. It them began to make a series of sounds that was the xenomoprhs version of a malevolent laugh before it resume it's attention on the corvette.

"Well, we're fucked." Sergei said, drawing his magnum out from it's holster. "Russian Roulette anyone?" he offered.

"I hope you got six rounds." Hicks said dryly.

But the pretence of having to commit suicide to avoid a gruesome death was suddenly lost on them. And that was when the Primarch stopped it's laughing. There was an ominous pause that lasted for nearly an age before the Primarch started doing something out of the ordinary. It began to cough and grunt. Apparently, given this reaction, Alaric wasn't going down without a fight and had somehow gotten lodged in it's throat.

"It's choking?" Sarah said in puzzlement before she lightened up. "It's actually choking!"

Andrzej smiled as he realised what Alaric's plan was.

"Alaric, you crazy son of a bitch!" Andrzej praised. "Into the belly of the beast!"

Now there was a reason to the suicidal madness.

Alaric had feigned a banzai charge in order to work around the Primarch's defences. Or in this case, slip through the defences and right into the bowels of the enemy. Quite literally in this case.

A comm channel was opened and they heard him, alive and well. As indicated by the sound of slicing flesh and cartilage as Alaric fought his way down, hopefully to it's heart. The Primarch retched and grunted with every internal jab.

"That's right!" Alaric was heard over the comms, muffled by the Primarch's body as the slicing ceased. "Choke on this, you bastard!"

There a loud thunderous surge as the comms went flat, causing the bridge of the battered corvette to shudder. Then a faint glow blue was beginning to seep through the carapace on it's chest. The glow was getting brighter and brighter as faint cracks were starting to snake and spasm. The cracks were beginning to widen, light streaming out and the unmistakable sound and vapour of accelerating particles.

Hicks immediately set the corvette in reverse to a safer distance. The fighters did the same as they followed the Thunderfist.

The Primarch roared in what could clearly be heard as horrendous pain, blue light seen surging it's way up it's throat. And crisp smoke with energised embers was seeping out too. The Primarch's chest was now beginning to smoulder as it was beginning to break down against the onslaught within.

Then the inevitable happened.

---

The Primarchs glowing, fracturing chest exploded in a magnificent eruption of lightning and blue flames. Shooting out like a bullet on exit, Alaric dived out of the Primarch's gaping fissure in a shower of incinerated chitin, flesh and blood. He arced out, trailing smoke and charred chitin behind him as the Primarch recoiled back from the force of the eruption.

Alaric landed deftly, kneeling on an orbiting slab, his cloak and horsehair crest billowing in the wind. The phase-casters, just barely restored to operational status, were crackling with power. His axes dripped acidic ichor from lodging inside the Primarch's oesophagus.

In truly cruel irony, chest-bursting was most effective against the Primarch.

Those watching could not help themselves. Dwarves cheered loudly and raucously as the Primarch, acidic ichor gushing in a torrent fell to it's knees causing the rubble ocean to wave violently. The Archangel couldn't help but join in the festivity.

They had just dealt the first significant damage the Primarch had suffered since this whole battle started.

With the Primarch reeling in much deserved agony, and by agony the entire front of it's chest was blown into dust and revealing it's inner workings, its concentration was failing. This is turn caused the levitating boulders and masonry to lose their glow and drop down to join the rubble beneath.

Alaric stood up and flourished his axes in accomplishment as the slab he was on began to drift down.

"You can't scratch the outside but the inside blows up just fine!" Alaric declared, pointing his axe at the Primarch as he rode out the drop.

Once again, the unpredictability of humans was underestimated.

"Chest-bursting." Hicks said, shrugging with a hand to his forehead in ironic realisation. "Who would've thought!"

"Gotta love the irony." Sergei said, holstering his sidearm.

And right now, the Primarch was likely thinking the same thing. And not in a humorous way.

"Impossible!" it strained, seeing Alaric completely unscathed as it clutched it haemorrhaging chest.

Acrid smoke steamed up as the acid blood made contact on the rubble below as a corrosive waterfall.

Alaric turned to the Primarch, sheathing his hand axes and drawing his great axe. The rune on the axehead glowed brightly, as did the runes lining the blade. The axe must have been drawing energy even when not in use. Maybe due to the extreme proximity from being inside it caused it to get supercharged. Whether or not that's how it worked, Alaric was now ready to deal the killing blow.

He said nothing as his greaves flashed and he jumped towards the Primarch. Using his phasecasters as jump jets, Alaric arced upwards.

"You impudent stain!" the Primarch cursed as it lashed out with it's free claw. "DIE!"

Alaric fired a blast from his phasecasters at it's claw, merely intending to knock it back, and this time the beam blasted right through it's hand with a loud thundering flash before it could crush him. The Primarch screeched loudly as its hand lost most of it's integrity, it's fingers now dangling at unnatural angles.

It would appear that the chest-burst had severely weakened it. Weakened it enough so that it could no longer shield itself from harm. And now, the Primarch had just realised that the damaged it sustained was hindering it's ability to fight.

At this critical point, with it's power severely crippled, the Primarch decided to cut and run. It unfurled it's wings as Alaric landed on it's knee. He was quick to race up it's leg and then jump up with a burst of power, drawing his hand axe back and throwing it at the Primarch's blasted chest. The axe caught on a jutting rib and Alaric winched himself up.

And this development was not lost to those on the Thunderfist.

---

"It's falling back." Hicks said. "We've got it on the run!"

"It's hurting now!" Cloudbreaker realised and thumped his chair's armrest in overdue relief. " About time! Gunners, clip the bastard! Prep flak rounds!"

His crew shouted in unison. The Archangels too joined in, hefting up their gauss weapons. Hicks revved the engines hard and Thunderfist hurtled in pursuit of the Primarch, it's remaining turrets aiming for it's wings. The fighters followed in close formation, bombing racks arming their payloads. The Primarch flapped it's wings casing a fierce gust of wind to surge around it, making the corvette buck.

Alaric tossed his axe further up, latching into the Primarchs collarbone. Pulling himself up, he held tight as he felt the Primarch flap again and this time was leaving the ground. The corvette rumbled it's way up, swerving to it's least damaged side to unleash a broadside at the Primarch.

The gauss turrets fired into the Primarchs wings top most pair of wings, their fuses set to detonate on impact. The rounds impacted the wings, exploding in showers of razor sharp shrapnel that worked in shredding the top and middle wings into acidic shreds of chitin and robbing the Primarch of flight. Alaric ducked behind the Primarch's collarbone as razor hail pelted his area.

The Primarch, suddenly affected by gravity, crashed down at the rim of the rubble ocean, causing another wave to surge out onto the vast snow plains like a wave on a beach. The corvette rumbled in close pursuit, aiming for it's other wings and shredding those with explosive rounds. The fighters swooped in, carpet bombing their payloads into it's back with rippling detonations and the sharp splintering of carapace.

This kept the Primarch pinned just long enough for Alaric to jump up high for the most crucial target for any soldier.

The head.

---

The Primarch heaved itself to it's feet as Alaric landed on the Primarch's crown, drawing his great axe. It's wings were now completely useless, nothing more then tattered shreds of chitin.

"No where to run now." Alaric declared, walking up the gargantuan crown to the right spot. 'No more bodies for you to retreat too."

"You think you have won?" the Primarch spat. "You have seen nothing!"

The aethyric storm began to congregate around them, lightning flashing in the blackened clouds. The Primarch was gathering it's strength again, intending to consume everything in a storm that would put the ones in the Old Testament to shame. Lightning bolts arced from the clouds, causing Thunderfst and the fighters to pull back. The corvette got clipped by one bolt to it's rear port engine, causing it to short out in a shower of sparks and making it lose stability for several moments.

Alaric hefted up his great axe as more aethyric lightning erupted around them and he focused his mind. The rune glowed and now, instead of the lightning arcing outwards and lashing at the aircraft, all the bolts surged to him and his axe. The streaks of aethyric energy were absorbed by the blade and energised the metal, the runes and pattern welding highlighted.

But with it's just moments away, the Primrach showed no fear. Rather, it's crown glowed with an eldritch light as if to highlight Alaric's impending doom.

"My death will amount to nothing." the Primarch cautioned with ominous foreboding. "You have already lost!"

Alaric did not give it the luxury of a comeback. The only luxury he would give was that of retribution.

Alaric brought the axe down, the blade singing and trailing power through the air and struck the Primarch's crowned head. The blade dug deep into the Primarch's skull and Alaric focused hard. Focusing on channelling enough power to kill the Primarch once and for all. A massive surge of power rocked through the Primarch's body from head to toe, shredded wings and tail, blotting out the green and purple with a vibrant blue.

The Prirmarch gave out a loud deafening roar as it felt it's entire body light up, in more ways then one.

Blue lightning spurted and cracked out of it's ruptured chest and it's recesses. Xenomorphs that had been in reserve within came pouring out, engulfed in blue flames and tumbling to their demise. Each turned to energised dust that either dispersed into ashen streams or exploded in choking clouds on impact.

Alaric strained hard as he channelled everything he had into this attack. His armour was glowing as brightly as a sun and his axe was the centre of a thunderstorm. A thunderstorm that was being funnelled right into the Primarch's head. And Alaric was certainly getting some sort of backlash from it as he felt body burning up like an intense fever.

The Primarch's roar died in it's throat as a massive backlash of aethyric energy surged out from it's body, snuffing out it's life once and for all. The shock wave from which caused a massive wave to erupted from the rubble sending rocks and masonry surging forth as a geological tsunami. Thunderfist and the fighters frantically commenced evasive actions to avoid getting smashed from the skies. On top of the primarch Alaric was nearly blown back as a massive column of energy shout into the sky, intermingling with the clouds before erupting in a blinding flash like a miniaturised supernova.

And as it did, all life within the Primarch was finally snuffed out, leaving only a blackened husk remaining.

The lifeless body of the once great 'God Prey' stood motionless and smoking for several tense moments. Then a gust of wind rushed by and the gargantuan cadaver fell forwards, trailing acrid smoke in an arc. Alaric held tight to his axe as he rode the ride down, flecks of charred carapace flaking off and leaving a trailing shower.

---

The Primarch's dead corpse struck the rock and ice with earthshaking force in a large plume of choking dust and snow, obscuring everything in sight. Owing that there was a gaping hull breach in the Thunderfist, everyone on the bridge got swamped by a sudden snowstorm. The inside of the bridge and everyone present was now caked in a layer of ash and snow. And there was much coughing and dusting off to be seen.

"Is that bug dead?" Sergei asked.

"Should be." Hicks said. "Bigger they are, the harder they fall."

Captain Cloudbreaker grunted in agreement as he shook his beard with loud jangling and great clouds wafting.

"Hicks, bring us down." Andrzej ordered. "Get tactical, marines!"

The extremely battered Thunderfist touched down several meters from the where the Primarch's head made contact, the engines powering down with gusts of steam. The main ramp lowered down The Archangels came walking out armed to the teeth with gauss rifles, navigating their way over upturned snow and boulders. Flashing lights into the dust they tried to find any sign of Alaric surviving the fall.

"Alaric!" Andrzej called out, shining his light. "Sound off!"

There was no answer. After calling out again with more urgency, there was still no answer.

"Would be just typical if we just find his boots poking out from under this bug." Karl said, amusing the comical worst.

When the dust settled, they were happily and humorously surprised. Alaric was casually sitting on the Primarch's blackened head, his axe still lodged in its cranium. The runes on the blade were slowly ebbing away as the power contained within was expended. His head was resting down on his chest like he was sleeping. Not that it would have surprised them.

Alaric however was deep in thought, oblivious to what was going on, and he had a question to ask.

"Gri'nyr, you can come out now." Alaric called out in his head.

A moment passed before he got an answer as he felt a familiar presence.

"I never left." Gri'nyr greeted.

"Then where were you?" Alaric asked. "I thought that you had been erased."

"Merely incapacitated from damage sustained by the armour." Gri'nyr explained."Like an EMP to an electrical system if the damage goes too deep. But I see you handled yourself nicely."

"Barely. My brain almost melted out from my eyes." Alaric admitted.

"But the Unbound aided you and steeled your mind." Gri'nyr praised with reverence.

"You knew?" Alaric asked.

"With Unbound, they don't need eyes to see or ears to hear." Gri'nyr described. "That gives them a certain... presence that even those in a slumber can feel."

"Alaric!" Andrzej voice could be heard. "Alaric!"

A snowball was then thrown and impacted his helmeted head with a loud crunch of frozen water. When that didn't get a response, they then began to pelt him with an unceasing barrage.

"And now, it's time to celebrate." Gri'nyr urged with impetus. "Go on, you've earned it."

"Very funny." Alaric smirked

Alaric raised his head and looked to the direction where he was being called and pelted. He saw his squad below, having now stopped their barrage when they noticed Alaric responding to them, and pulled his helmet off, resting it on one knee as the squad gathered at the bottom. Dried blood crusted his face, mimicking his war paint in red rather then blue. Alaric looked down to them and waved.

"Hello, down there." Alaric called out, holding onto his axe's haft for support. "Nice of you to join me!"

"How you feeling, Reaper?" Andrzej called out.

"Fucking tired." Alaric quipped, laying back against the Primarch's skull and giving off a loud sigh.

The squad laughed at his answer. Alaric was never one for making long answers when the obvious reared it's head.

"Yeah, you look like shit." Sergei pointed out.

Alaric chuckled at that observation as he wiped some dried blood from under his eyes.

"You didn't have a smooth ride if I can remember." he countered. "Something to do with boulders?"

"Oh yeah." Sergei answered with a hefty dose of sarcasm. "First class, I highly recommend it."

Even as he made that comment, Cloudbreaker and his crew were busy assessing the damage to their ship. Every now and then, they could hear colourful language erupting from the dwarf captain, in both Khazdryn and Angloek.

"Well Alaric, you certainly outdid yourself this time!" Hicks called out, getting up close to the Primarch's mouth and touching one of the massive teeth that lined it's cavern-like maw. "Biggest kill since... well ever!"

"And I hope its the last one." Karl said. "I don't fancy seeing another Godzilla knock off any time soon."

"Kaiju." Mac corrected, mildy annoyed that Karl would compare a beloved Japanese icon to a xenomorph.

Karl walked up to the Primarch's neck and went about jabbing it with his gauss rifle for any xenomoprhs that might be lurking under it's cracked carapace. He was greeted in due time by the trapped remains of one, caught between the clavicle and composed entirely of ash. He gave the deceased xenomorph a bash with the stock of his gauss rifle and the whole thing just exploded into a choking cloud. Karl gave out a loud series of coughs and sputters as he walked back to the others, spitting as some carbonised xenomorph intruded his mouth.

"Got a straggler." Karl choked, waving the accompanying cloud away.

"Or the straggler got you." Sergei joked as Karl dusted himself off.

Sarah looked up at the sky and she smiled.

"The skies are clearing up." she pointed out. "Look, for the first time since we got here the skies are clearing."

Indeed, the clouds above were slowly fading away, the storm that had once gathered them gone. In fact, the whole planet was now calm with not a storm or blizzard in sight. The setting sun was now casting a gold glow over the entire rubble ocean and the deceased Primarch where it penetrated the clouds. Alaric looked up at the clearing sky, wondering about the sudden drastic change in weather.

Thinking about it, from what they had all witnessed, maybe the Primarch was the cause of the extreme storms. A reaction from it's imprisonment. The storms may have been a dream that was deepening as it slumbered in confinement.

Overhead, he could see the growing form of the Karak descending through the thinning clouds. Hearing the rumbling, the Archangels looked up to see the great ship preparing to touch down at the rim of the rubble ocean several dozen meters from their position. A craft was seen coming out of the hanger as the Karak unfurled massive landing struts twice the size of the corvettes with eight squared toes. There was a loud earthy groan to be heard as the Karak made landfall with a slight subsidence of loose snow and rock.

Closing on their position was a transport shuttle and Alaric had no problems guessing who was on board. In fact, Kra'vyx jumped out of the opening hatchway before the shuttle even landed. His yautja physique more then ample in absorbing the thirty foot jump, landing with a plume of snow. The initiate ran up as the shuttle landed, the ramp lowered and the rest of the passengers disembarked. Mal'fax, Ly'enta and Fel'tak came out, followed by Thane Ironbeard and Stonefather Kazrik.

While the initiates and Kazrik were joyful at Alaric's survival, Varlin on the other hand was furious.

"My lord, I must object to this blatant disregard for your own life." Varlin began with his tirade the moment he was in hearing range. "You could have died!"

Alaric was not deterred. This was no worse then getting scolded by a superior officer after pulling their asses out of the fire. Which was something that happen on a semi-daily basis

"Could've but I'm not." Alaric said. "'Not' being the key word."

"No excuse!" Varlin scolded. "Actions like those that you just made may get you some distance in the galaxy but this," Varlin gestured at the Primarch's corpse Alaric was sitting on. "is beyond suicidal glory-seeking."

"At least I killed the fucking thing!" Alaric said in a jokingly exasperated manner, holding his arms up. "And we didn't have to blow up a planet to do it."

He gave his axe's haft a tug and wrenched his axe free with a loud crack of brittle carapace. Grabbing his helmet, he slid down the Primarch's skull, trailing his cloak behind him. He landed on his feet as Kra'vyx walked up and grabbed him in a bear hug.

"You did it!" he shouted in poorly contained joy. "You killed one of the God Prey!"

Alaric hissed loudly through his teeth as he felt his burnt back being crushed in Kra'vyx's grip.

"Kra'vyx, too tight!" Alaric strained.

Kra'vyx realised that Alaric was in acute discomfort from his affections and let go. Alaric was relieved from the release, only to be caught up by Ly'enta's own affections. And by affections, she jumped into his arms, effectively tackling him into the snow with his head in her cleavage again. His axe flew out of his hand and landed blade first next to them.

"I thought you were dead." Lty'enta cried out in joy. "And you weren't. I was so worried!"

Alaric comically made a shrug motion as she stayed on top of him before giving her a pat on the back. Mal'fax came over and hefted her up, allowing Alaric to take a breath and get up.

"And he will be if you don't let him breath." Mal'fax cautioned, putting her down on her feet.

She blushed sheepishly again as Stonefather Kazrik approached and hauled Alaric up. The priest briskly ushered him away from the others. The Archangels merely walked around, talking about the events they had just survived and the initiates were busy getting a closer look of the Primarch. The initiates were taking in everything they could about this supposed mythical creature. Varlin on the other hand, puffed on his pipe and watched them going about their enthusiasms.

Once they were out of earshot, Kazrik began to talk.

"Alaric, you have done well." he praised. "Varlin may not show it at the moment but he's proud of this accomplishment."

"Well, he has a stern way of showing it." Alaric remarked.

"Once he gets his rant out of his system, he's perfectly fine." Kazrik dismissed light-heartedly before seriousness took over. "The weight of command is a burden that few can bear. To be responsible for many under your rule. But I must ask. How are you feeling?"

"I felt better." Alaric answered, gesturing to the blood on his face. "One hell of a migraine though. Could hardly think at one point."

"Yes, the strain of resistance. A remarkable achievement for one not trained. Something that need to be trained better." Kazrik said, reaching and rubbing Alaric's face with an armoured hand. "The fact you survived as long as you did against the Primarch speaks for itself." he praised, withdrawing his hand.

"I had help." Alaic said, reaching down for a clump of snow to wash his face with.

'Korrina? Yes, I know." Kazrik confirmed. "One of the many advantages of the Unbound. They can be everywhere and yet nowhere."

"And Unbound are more rare then Keepers?" Alaric asked as the dried blood began to run.

"Very." Kazrik answered, emphasising the word strongly. "Keepers are rare among Aethyreals, those having the strength of will to harness Gates, and Unbound even less so. Most simply... vanish before being found."

Kazrik then gestured to the axe which Alaric was still grasping. Alaric got most of the blood off his skin before reaching for his cloak and wiping his face with the corner.

"My lord, one more thing." Kazrik added, gesturing with his staff. "Your axe."

Alaric held his great axe up as he continued to dry himself.

"What about it?" he asked, wondering if Kazrik found something wrong with it as he dropped his cloak, his face free of clotted blood. "Is there a chip on the blade?" he asked, jokingly.

"Does it have a name?" the priest asked.

Alaric paused at Kazrik's question.

"A name?" he said, in puzzlement.

He looked at it for a few moments, turning it in his hand and watching the light of the setting sun reflect off the blade. He had read about named swords in history. Szczerbiec of Poland, of which Andrzej had modelled his own sword after, was one prominent example that survived the infestation of Earth. Another would be the Sword of Mercy from his birthplace of Great Britain, used for the coronation of the kings and Queens of England. And then there were the swords of mythology and fantasy, such as Excalibur for King Arthur and Hrunting for Beowulf.

"Honestly, I never thought of a name for it." Alaric admitted. "Never had any need to. And I don't recall it ever having a name."

"Well, all aethyric weapons have names to carry their legacy." Kazrik said. "Often by the deeds they have done for their wielders. A name that would live though the ages while we may be long gone."

He gestured to his staff.

"My staff, for example, is named Forge. A reminder of my roots." he began, holding it towards Alaric. "I use it to harness the Aethyr into being, as earth and fire. Giving it physical form, forging it into whatever the situation calls for. Could be a blade to kill, could be a shield to defend. Could even be life to heal the most grievous of wounds."

"Well... if you insist." Alaric said, looking at his axe.

Alaric thought hard to decide on a name. He could think of many times when his axe saved his life, either through skill or dumb luck. Moments when on missions his axe is what got him out from being ripped apart by xenomorph praetorians and having his head ripped off by yautja hunters. But the harder he thought, the more a certain moment resurfaced. When his axe saved him from the Primarch's lightning.

The way it broke the Primarch's offensive spell of certain annihilation.

Alaric thought of a name that would immortalise this day and could be a homage to the dwarf that made it. Who would be long gone by now.

"Spellbreaker." Alaric decided.

Kazrik's brows raised as he heard the name.

"Spellbreaker?" Kazrik said, running the name form his tongue several times before nodding. "Hmm, a fine name. Strong and direct, like a Khazdryn."

He then raised his staff and gestured to the deceased Primarch and those surrounding it.

"Come, let's get back to the others." he proposed.

They walked back to the others and know they could see that the Archangels and the initiates had been climbing on the Primarch's head. They were all getting a feel of the sheer size of the Primarch and the gravity of the prestige that it's death had brought. Varlin was still at the bottom, holding his pipe up and warning them not to scratch Alaric's prize.

Hicks was down on all fours getting a closer look at all the lines and contours of the Primarch's carapace, making out all the strange patterns. He wondered out loud about the host it could have birthed or metamorphosed from. Or maybe it was an amalgamation of all the beneficial traits of all the races it took. The rest of the squad was merely sitting down like hunters having just bagged the hill of the day. While they didn't technically kill it, they did contribute to the kill.

The initiates were overwhelmed to put it lighty. Kra'vyx was running around like a dervish as his excitement got the better of him. Ly'enta was feeling how smooth the carapace as she reclined herselfand Mal'fax was busy scribbling something in a notebook from his pack. No doubt, giving his fascination for history and because of the event they have been through, he had been writing some kind of record. Fel'tak on the other hand was just milling about. It would appear from his posture that he was disappointed that this wasn't his kill. However, he did kill many other xenomorphs so he didn't have any right to complain.

"Normally, I would make some sort of smart comment or a complaint." he started, tapping his foot on the carapace beneath him before shaking his head. "But I'm frankly not in the mood."

"That's a first." Mal'fax commented, unconvinced as he continued to write.

"Everyone at home is going to lose their gourd when they see this!" Kra'vyx said, barely able to contain the enticement.

"Imagine how many will recant their belief that these things never existed." Ly'enta added.

They could only imagine the looks on all those who vehemently denied the Primarch's existence. The Loremaster Hy'dorles being the prime example, but no doubt he'll find some way to prove otherwise.

"Hey everyone." Alaric shouted from below. "How about a snapshot for the scrapbook?"

the Archangels laughed from his questioned.

"Do we even have a camera?" Sergei asked. "One that didn't explode earlier?"

Alaric hefted his helmet up as a response, tossing it up in his hand several times.

"I think this will suffice." Alaric answered. "You can look at my performance later if you like."

"Perfect."Andrzej praised. "Since we just completed our mission, we can afford to relax a bit. Archangels, get into position."

The squad briskly got into their places, sliding down to the front of the skull and taking helmet's off.

"You four do the same." Alaric called out in Yautjan to Kra'vyx and his friends, reaching behind his back. "Make it good."

Kra'vyx nodded and got them lined up behind the Archangels, him and Ly'enta in the middle with Mal'fax to the left and Fel'tak to the right. There was an air of comradeship among them now, forged from their survival together

Alaric picked out his spear from his hip, extended it to the right length with the blade head retracted and placed the helmet on it. Kazrik walked up to Varlin and told him of Alaric's intentions. Varlin nodded and commented that all great deeds needed to be record for posterity. The two dwarfs stood at the bottom of the skull, Varlin with pipe in mouth and Kazrik with staff in hand, and stood with full regalia as befitting their stations.

"When your ready." Alaric said to Gri'nyr within the helmet.

The lenses flashed in recognition and Alaric ran back to the others. His graves flashed and he jumped high into the air. He plummeted back down and landed between Kra'vyx and Ly'enta, much to her pleasure as she scooted closer to him.

"Swords." Andrzej ordered.

The Archangels drew their swords and Alaric drew his great axe, now dubbed Spellbreaker. Kra'vyx and co did the same, drawing their weapons and holding them aloft in the air. Ly'enta gave her whips a rhythmic flourish, the unfortunately ruined blade glinting in the light. Kazrik made his staff glow while Varlin held his pipe and smiled.

"Best war cry you can muster." Alaric said. "Now!"

They held up their weapons and gave a loud victorious yell that echoed all around them.

Alaric's helmet flashed brightly like the flash on a conventional camera and the image was taken, stored within it's database. As the yells died down, echoing into obscurity, Alaric held up his free hand, the gauntlet glowing and the helmet flew back and landed in his hand, followed by his spear, which retracted and holstered itself on his hip.

Alaric held the helmet up as it projected the captured image for everyone to see. Indeed, it made a fine memento to mark the hard fought victory that was won this day. Showing what could be achieved when different races and cultures could achieve when united against a common foe.

Then a trivial, but equally important, question popped up.

"I just have one question." Fel'tak pointed out, pointing a finger at the Primarch's corpse they were standing on. "How the fuck are we going to get this on board?"

That dilemma definitely made them think. The Primarch's skull, let alone it's body, was far more large then the skulls they had gained previously. And there was no way that they could shift it due to the monolithic weight. And the time it would take to cut through, even with Alaric's superior weaponry, would take time. Using his phasecasters would be impractical as that would simply reduce most of it to dust. And they wanted to keep it whole if possible.

"Good point." Alaric said, before looking down to the two dwarves below. "Varlin, any ideas?" he asked.

Varlin rubbed his hands together like a craftsman about to embark on a project as Kazrik waved his staff with a signalling motion to the Karak. It appeared that they were waiting and preparing for just this moment. From the Karak's hangers, more ships were now flying to their position and from lowering ramps, vehicles came driving down, kicking up snow from wheels and tracks. And from what could be seen from their position, it looked like the vehicles were loaded out with various mining gear and machinery. Specifically, as would befit a race were mining and forging was the basis of their culture, drills and rock-saws. And there was a massive tracked flatbed platform trundling out of the fully opening cargo hold. It looked like half the cargo hold trundling up to them.

"Oh, there's a way yet, laddie." Varlin said with a grin. "There's a way."