Marten and the rest of squad fourteen had made it to the second trench line, with the smouldering corpse of the Psyker behind them. The staccato of plasma beams in the air was like a Symphony of Death, granting instant release with just a simple kiss from any one of the super heated bolts.

The line had to be ditched when the Reavers attacked, but with the fall of the Psyker, it was possible for the Emperor’s soldiers to move up into position again. As Marten gazed dreamily down the line, he saw familiar, battle worn faces find their old turret emplacements.

Marten felt great, which was a suprise to him, since he had just been through hell leading the charge against the Psyker. Once the first Psyker fell, the other two went into a haywire fit, exploding in a light of ghostly blue flames.

Marten felt his heart drop. He had blood on his hands. He had been wounded during the fight. He saw people run towards him as he fell to the ground. The battle for Brejyk Pass would have to continue without him.