The power sword sliced across the front of Niklau’s torso, the molecular disruption field that gave the blade its preternaturally sharp edge carving its way through fabric and skin, bone and flesh. Niklau let out a strangled grunt as they fell to the ground at the same time. The shock of landing on her right side jarred Ngiri’s power sword out of Chetta’s hand and sent it skittering across the ground out of her reach, and she felt the heretic’s bodily fluids spray over her legs. Blood? Viscera? She fought down a wave of nausea and panic that was nearly strong enough to overwhelm the pain. She’d just delivered Niklau a mortal wound, but he’d take time to die, she was still within his reach, and she no longer had her weapon. She kicked as hard as she could with her left leg, desperately trying to knock him further away from her, make it that bit more difficult for him to get hold of her…

A hand closed on her calf. She tried to kick again, but couldn’t get enough power to shake the heretic off. His fingers dug into her flesh. Chetta screamed abuse at him, grabbed a desperate handful of dust and gravel with her left hand and threw it blindly in his direction.

Another hand landed on her left hip, gripping hard enough to add one more layer of pain on top of that which already wracked her. Niklau tugged, seeking to pull her towards him or him towards her. He was clawing his way up her body with the clumsy, desperate strength of a dying man.

Chetta reached down to grab his hand, trying to pry his fingers loose, but she couldn’t move them. Niklau heaved, with a screaming grunt of effort. Stones dug into Chetta’s skin as she was pulled over onto her back, and Radimir Niklau’s heavily bleeding torso landed across her upper legs. He could no longer use his legs properly, with his abdominal muscles sliced apart. His hair was not just greying, it was falling out and leaving bald patches on his scalp. His skin was liver-spotted, his eyes were sunken in wrinkles, and what could be seen of his cheeks were positively cadaverous, but he still possessed a fearsome strength, even after his body had been ravaged by his own foul sorcery. He reached up towards her face, his eyes flashing with hatred, his fingers clawing towards her respirator. He wanted to see her choke to death.

Chetta opened her warp eye as far as she could, and fixed him with the full force of her stare.