Docks

Passing through the portal was like being doused in ice water, gasping for breath as your body rebelled at the terrifying experience, refusing to listen to your mind. Talassar hated the distressing sensation, exacerbated as it was by the odd flow of time within the dimensional tunnel. No matter how he measured during his innumerable trips, the time it took to traverse any specific portal was never the same. From one second to one minute, there was no way to determine when you would arrive. Which was why despite knowing it would happen, he still stumbled into the docks on the other side of the portal and crashed into the back of a plasma cannon wielding specialist.

Disoriented, he tried to move aside while he sent weaves across the docks to sense the unfolding battle. Streams of plasma filled the cavern, turrets around the shadowy bulk of Invincible coming to life for a few seconds and hurling deadly bolts into the swelling ranks of the HLA before a plasma cannon or rocket launcher was brought to bear and turn the turret into molten slag. The familiar bulk of Invincible loomed in the distance, scarred hull in various states of disrepair. Although a month had passed since their return, the horrific battle damage remained, a testament to the conflict over the Black Sun.

More troops poured out of the portal to stumble incoherently for a few moments until their officers could overcome the transition and shout orders. Talassar lurched aside and pulled a confused Grey along with him, the massive armoured figure having followed him through without missing a step. Talassar's prepared weaves flashed outwards in a wave, a map of the battle forming in his head at its passage.

Madeleine's vanguard was overwhelming the few Guardsmen on patrol, swarming onto the catwalks around the ship. The other portals were already shattered, their dimensional rifts leaking torrents of energy. That would stop further reinforcements but already heavy resistance was forming as psions poured from the ship alongside elite shock troops to reinforce the defence. Based on the numbers, at least an extra division of the Guards elite enforcers was assigned to Invincible after his arrest. Vortices of psionic energy coalesced above Invincible and gouts of flame signalled the arrival of squads of powered armour, each suit a veritable armoury of its own. As Talassar's weaves expanded outwards. threads of power were pulled from the vortices and powerful enemy weaves snapped into place along the frontline, hurling the attackers back amidst a hail of telekinetic force. [They managed to fix the augment arrays far faster than I expected.]

Supported by the arrays, the enemy Acolytes staggered their weaves to create a rolling wave of energy. Simple and effective. A textbook case of stabilising a combat situation by creating a buffer zone. The ensuing chaos amongst the HLA vanguard allowed enemy powered armour to set up defences. Discs of metal were hurled onto the docks, expanding into a web of temporary cover and mobile shield generators were dropped along choke-points on the catwalk. Another wave of force smashed into the HLA and Guardsmen took the opportunity to form up behind their hastily erected defences to rain down a torrent of plasma on the HLA.

Screams ripped through the air as hundreds died in moments and Talassar let his weave fall apart before it could reach the Acolytes. Wary of drawing attention, Talassar drew on his Essence, testing the fraying seal was still in place before he slid further along the mass of troops until he found a twisted mass of broken hull for cover. Grey and his squad were close behind, snapping off shots into the distance as they moved.

"Deal with them Favoured!" The Commander's voice crackled to life over Talassar's headset accompanied by another rolling wave of power punching into the HLA lines. There were only two ways to deal with psions, overwhelming power or other psions. Yet with the Acolytes entrenched behind armoured shock troops and covered by a warship's batteries there was little the HLA could do despite their numbers.

Talassar pulled through the binding, frustrated at the slow pace his energy gathered and built a series of detection weaves targeting the psions. Without a word, his weaves were released, and he unholstered his sniper rifle, counting under his breath while the weave sneaked out, slipping through the turbulent vortices of telekinetic energy to home in on the nearest Acolyte. The Acolyte's Essence flickered when the weave reached him, sensing the threat but Talassar fired an empowered bolt of energy that shredded his barriers and tore through his flesh before he could respond. Disrupting weaves sprang from Talassar's fingers and he dashed away from cover, sprinting for some bulky equipment even as streams of energy homed in on his previous position. The enemy weaves fell into chaos at his prepared disruption and the backlash elicited flares of Essence from the unfortunate psions caught in the weave. He fired twice, marking two more psions for death before sprinting away.

Complex weaves tangled across the battlefield as the defending psions understood what they were facing and responded in kind. They immediately split into three groups, one to hunt down the rogue psion, one to support the defence and the final group served as support around the augment arrays. [Of course only elites would be assigned here. Just like we'd trained a thousand times at Loquace.]

Overwhelmed by a dozen psions, it was all Talassar could do to keep them at bay and he scrambled from cover to cover, keeping most of the Acolytes tied up long enough for the HLA to bring even more heavy weaponry to bear. The Guard's shields flickered under the onslaught of rockets and plasma streams, cracking within seconds and the HLA vanguard surged across the catwalk. They split into multiple groups, armoured forces riding jets onto the Invincible away from line of sight of the defenders long enough to place charges and break into the warship.

An errant surge of energy tore through the cavern and Talassar gestured to redirect the enemy weave, letting the energy crash against a bulkhead until it sheared away from its supports, launching a squad of Guardsmen and two Acolytes taking cover behind it into the void. The battlefield fell apart in a chaotic melee, HLA forces making their way into the depths of the warship and tearing into the defenders as their psions fell to Talassar's accurate fire.

Sweat poured from his brow as Talassar settled into a rhythm, popping out of cover long enough to bring down an Acolyte or unfortunate Novice with his Devout Blade, before tangling with their weaves long enough to make a break for a different position. His superior skill was all that was keeping him going, disrupting the enemy with as little effort as possible, but in a matter of minutes his Essence was almost drained of energy, the binding limiting his recovery. The core was whispering in his mind, louder with each weave he placed, the seal cracking under the pressure.

Talassar staggered as an Acolyte's weave locked onto his position long enough for the Guard to fire a missile. It screamed overhead, quickly intercepted by point defence from a nearby suit of HLA powered armour and Talassar cursed at the imminent sense of dread pouring from his defensive weaves. The errant missile corkscrewed erratically, descending towards him and he raised his plasma projector while twisting the dial on the weapon. A quick squeeze of the trigger sent a wave of searing hot plasma into the air to catch the rocket and burn through the warhead casing enough for a quick telekinetic burst to shred its circuitry. He grunted and launched himself with a psionically infused jump to evade the molten shrapnel descending around him just in case the warhead survived. Grey was shouting for him to take cover, breathless at the exertion of 'protecting' him and Talassar signalled his assent, drawing on a few strands of energy to unravel the weave marking him to the Guard.

["Ba… lassa… op… ding!"] The core's hissing voice leaked through the seal, swelling in intensity with each moment.

[Stay quiet.]

"They're retreating into the ship!" One of the officers nearby reported. "Move! Move! Bring down those traitors to humanity!" With renewed vigour the HLA poured onto the catwalks, hurling themselves into the elite Guardsmen. Soldiers swarmed over the enemy, hacking with blades and firing bursts of plasma point blank to bring down their opponents, neglecting the horrific injuries they sustained and letting their compatriots stomp over their charred corpses. [They don't act any different from the most devout Guardsmen.]

Talassar crawled into a nearby duct and surveyed the battlefield while Grey and his squad settled into cover nearby, frowning at the reports on his wrist comm. The Guard was being pushed back everywhere, and they'd abandoned the catwalks to focus their forces within the ship, giving Talassar and his group a brief respite. HLA squads were deep in the Invincible but were meeting heavy fire everywhere, a handful of psions keeping them at bay from almost all the sensitive areas. Luckily, two of the entry points had placed them only a few metres from some server rooms and they'd managed to take control of three in quick succession and fortify the location once Stick patched into the Invincible's system and isolate the nearby defences. The arrangement of forces was confusing him. Even though psions were capable of turning the tide of battle on their own, there was little they could do against these numbers and they knew it, which meant they were delaying, but Talassar wasn't able to determine why. If this was a hopeless battle, they would throw themselves upon the enemy in the hope of a miracle, firm in their belief in the Guardians.

"What are they waiting for?" He whispered over the comm.

["Tear you li… imb"]

"I'm not sure Talassar." Grey replied, switching to a private channel. "The Commander's been trying to reach us for a while now and he has the same concern."

"Any ideas Favoured?" Soveks asked, voice trembling faintly, the screech of warping metal and hum of plasma weapons thumping in the background.

"Your guess is as good as mine." He shrugged. "I would say they're waiting for reinforcements but there's no way anyone can reach in time even if they manage to find our portal and the only way out is… unless…" Talassar flipped through the icons on his comm quickly and zoomed in on a nondescript room. With a flick of his fingers he sent the image to the Commander. "Get Stick to check the network and see if there are any requests for this room."

["Poor Talassar. All this effo… a… they van…"]

Soveks replied after a few moments. "He says there's a lot of traffic but it's heavily encrypted, it will take a while to figure it out."

"No need. They're planning a jump. We need to get onto that ship now!" Talassar squirmed out of the duct and broke into a mad dash. It shouldn't have been possible for the Guardian based jump drive to be repaired this early. The spare parts would have to come from the 'Heavenly Kingdom' which took months, but they must have managed somehow.

["That's not… thing requi… Favoured…"] The core chuckled in the back of his mind, delighted by his anxiety. In time with its laughter a mad surge of energy rose from the depths of the ship, weaves snapping into place around the Invincible in a burst of crimson light, overwhelming his senses with devastating power.