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Adelana and Torris opened fire, forcing him to slow and weave through it, but I was already moving and activating my sword. Even still, he reached Adelana before me. Lightning-quick, he pulled Adelana's hellgun from her hands, turned and fired a flurry at Torris.

I heard Torris cry out, and his shooting stopped. Then Rodyille dropped it, grabbed Adelana by the hair, and then placed the edge of his blade at her throat, making me stop in my tracks. Hissing through clenched teeth, my pistol aimed.

He smiled insanely over her shoulder. "Ahh! I could tell you liked this girl. Who wouldn't? She's just so damned pretty. So very, very pretty. Don't move! Or I will spill all her pretty blood onto the floor."

I clenched my jaw. "I don't understand how this is going to help you," I said. "Let her go!"

"I don't know how this will help me, too!" he exclaimed. "I'm just having a bit of fun! I know this is Torathe's final hour!"

"You also know now that to Etuarq, you are expendable," I said. "He had sacrificed Edracian and his entire organisation. He had sacrificed Feuilt once they'd lost their use! Join us! Help us! Now please let her go!"

"I have helped influence Torathe," said Rodyille conversationally. "I am partly responsible for the death of Omnartus; would you take me in knowing that?"

I flinched and hesitated. "If you regret it and wish to..."

"Well, I don't!" said Rodyille simply, suddenly throwing aside Adelana and shooting a Hell pistol he'd hidden behind her.

It happened so quick; not even I could react as the highly penetrative, superheated shot shattered my wraithbone rib, burst my left lung, then out my back.

I wheeled, twisting, crying out in agony and fell onto my back, writhing, gasping. My pistol and sword flung somewhere from my hands.

Rodyille laughed. "You speak grox shit!" he snarled. "My master would never! Ever! Abandon me! And for that...!"

He threw aside his hellpistol and grabbed Adelana by the ponytail as she was in the midst of getting to her feet. Then stabbed her straight through the shoulder.

Adelana screamed an agonised scream; then he threw her to the floor so hard I could hear bones break.

"You'll have to watch me torture poor pretty, pretty to death here before I kill you!" he snarled.

"I'll...I'll," I gasped.

"You'll...you'll what?" Rodyille said, in mock imitation of my gasping. "Kill me? What? In the condition, you are in now? I doubt it! I will not be killed by you on this day of days!"

He clutched at Adelana's cameleoline cloak and pulled her back to him, sliding her across the floor, making the poor girl cry out.

"Oh! Perhaps! I could do something else!" he said. "Something worse than plain old torture, yes!"

"N-no, no!" I cried as sharply as I could, fighting to keep awake.

He grabbed her by the hair again and pulled her up, so they were face to face, then licked the nape of her neck. Then, he smacked her across the face twice with short, sharp movements.

"You bastard!" Adelana snarled through clenched teeth, blood oozed from her split lip, and she spat right into his face.

Rodyille laughed then backhanded her to the deck.

"S-stop!" I pleaded. "Stop this!"

Rodyille ignored me, just continued to laugh, and he began to rip off Adelana's cameleoline cloak roughly.

"Can't you see? I gasped. "It's the souls that Etuaq used to enhance you. They're driving you insane! Please, we can help you."

Still, Rodyille laughed and finished pulling off Adelana's cloak, she was struggling, raining punch after punch into Rodyille's face with her gauntleted fists, but the bastard barely flinched. Despite the bloody broken nose she'd given him. He wrapped his fingers around her wrists and pinned Adelana's arms over her head.

"Stop, you son of a bitch!" and despite the agony, I climbed with agonising slowness to my feet. "Stop this now, or you'll never come back from this if you continue...!"

"Or you'll what?" he snapped.

"I'll kill you," I snarled. "I'll kill you in the most painful way imaginable."

Rodyille suddenly ran at me, and I only just managed to slap away his punch as it headed toward my face. The act sent waves of agony through me; I cried out, my vision blurred, and I couldn't stop his kick from colliding against my chest, sending me careening hard to the floor.

He was on me, grabbing me by the hair, then smashed my skull against the deck. My vision blackened, and I writhed with the pain. Then Rodyille hooked me across the jaw.

"Don't be stupid!" he roared. "Don't say stupid things! People who say stupid things like that are stupid! And deserve bad consequences for their stupidity!"

I would've laughed at his idiotic, redundant words, but he kicked me hard in the guts, and I reeled forward, gasping like an aquatic creature deprived of water.

Rodyille got to his feet and began back toward Adelana, turning his back to me.

I was on my knees, grasping his storm jacket with a shaking hand. I was weeping openly now, but not out of pain, Adelana had been through so much, but she was still a good person despite it. If he raped her, it'd break her; I couldn't let that happen. I couldn't lie back and do nothing!

"Please!" I hissed. "Please!"

Rodyille smiled and kicked me to the floor with the tip of his boot.

"Karmen!" I cried, curling up in a foetal ball. "Faleaseen! Help, please!"

I got nothing.

Nothing! I knew Karmen and the other psyker would be busy battling whatever psychic thralls Torathe kept, but I couldn't understand why Faleaseen wasn't able to help.

Adelana was crawling across the floor, reaching for her hellgun, but Rodyille stamped on her hand. I winced as I heard her fingers break.

Then he grabbed her by the neck, with one hand lifting her as effortlessly as Brutis Bones had hauled Arlathan when in power armour months ago now.

Adelana struggled, choking in his grasp with one, smooth, deliberate movement, and he unzipped her bodyglove.

I winced and closed my eyes, unable to watch. Then it hit me; this could be me one day; this could've been me years ago. Psychotic. It reminded me horrifyingly of my dream, the dream I'd truly wished to forget, the dream that'd terrified me beyond anything before or anything ever since. The dream I would never tell any living soul.

Then I heard it; two hell gunshots echoed from behind me; they shot over me, so bright they left orange after images on my retinas despite my eyes being closed.

I looked, and Rodyille stood with a shocked, gaping expression on his face. Two large, red hot holes burnt through his torso.

He let go of poor Adelana and fell to his knees, then collapsed limply onto his back, dead.

Despite the pain it caused, I turned back. Seeing Helma holding with one hand her smoking hellgun, how she'd kept hold of it, was beyond me. She was broken, both her legs and other arm hanging in unnatural angles, and Emperor only knew what other bones.

Helma smiled at me. "I am sorry," she gasped, indicating a punctured lung. "I know you wanted him alive."

Then she lost consciousness.

Adelana got slowly to her feet and viciously kicked Rodyille's corpse.

"Frigging bastard!" she snarled.

"Adelana," I gasped, and she approached my side; looking down at me with distinct, almost ironic concern, she held out her good hand to offer aide.

"Forget about me; I'll live," I said. "Check on Torris, please."

Adelana slowly nodded and went to do as asked with great hesitation, reaching for her vox bead and began calling for aid.

Rodyille was right, I thought with a smile; I wasn't the one to kill him on this day of days.

I never got to hear all of Adelana's words before darkness utterly overtook me.

 

Chapter 33

I was taken to my quarters by the two Stormtroopers. I stepped inside with a sigh, my hands in their pockets.

"Can you," I said, turning back to them. "Please get me some Lhos; I could use a smoke right now."

One shook his head as if to say, 'bloody addicts,' but the other nodded and said, "I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you; it'd be more than appreciated," I said.

He nodded again and walked out of sight.

I walked further in, and the door slid shut behind me; the place was unsurprisingly spartan, gunmetal grey with bronze edgings and linings. On the other hand, it was surprisingly large, though about six by seven metres wide; a double-sized bed was in the right side corner and a large cogitator bank in the left. There was another door against the far wall, which I guessed to lead into a private bathroom, but I just couldn't be bothered looking.

Now I was alone; the depression I'd been holding back was beginning to overwhelm me again.

I needed something to take my mind off everything; I needed to do something. Enandra may have been right about my mistakes, but I was still responsible. So I closed my eyes and inhaled through my nose, deep down to my stomach, then exhaled out my mouth. An old breathing exercise my father had taught me for what felt like a lifetime ago now.

I stretched my weary, stiff muscles for a good thirty minutes after that were pushups and crunches. Then despite my exhaustion, I began to train. They'd taken my sword, so I worked on my hand to hand drills. First, I practised singular techniques, always ten times slowly, then fifty times fast. Left then right jabs, left then right crosses the Back fist, the uppercut, the hook. Kicks followed them, first the front kick, both snapping and thrust, roundhouse kick, side kick and the hook kick. I worked through every technique I knew, some I hadn't practised in years. Even indulging in the fanciful stuff I usually wouldn't bother with, the spinning side, hook and round kick. Afterwards, I practised the jumping kicks (At first, I'd almost jumped into the ceiling due to my enhanced strength), the axe kick. My father had taught me those techniques despite advising me against using them due to their impractical nature, only so I'd understand them if they were used on me, just in case.

Then it was shadow boxing, and by frig did I get involved in that. I never felt so focused, and I seemed to move so fast; it almost seemed like I was dodging and parrying my techniques. Every step, every pivot and strike felt verged upon perfection despite my speed.

Being so lost in my training, I hadn't noticed the Stormtrooper enter until he shouted my name.

Utterly drenched in sweat, I turned.

"Sorry," I gasped, leaning forward with my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath.

The Stormtrooper shrugged and tossed me a small pack of Lhos, which I almost missed in my haste.

"There ya go," he said. "You're lucky I could find them, kid. The mamzel doesn't approve of Lho, medicae studies say..."

"Yeah, yeah," I sighed. "I've heard it all before. Thanks for this, though. Appreciate it, I do."

The Stormtrooper took another step inside. "I don't intend to tell you what to do, but..."

"Please!" I snapped. "I'm not in the mood! I need this now! Now please, just leave me alone!"

He stood there for a few seconds staring at me, whatever his expression was, hidden behind his helmet, before eventually nodding and backing out

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