[center][b][h3]Silas Celeton
The Rogue Trader[/h3][/b][/center]

Brandishing lasguns, stubbers, and assorted blades of all kinds, the mad followers of Chaos thundered against the Voidsmen. They held back the Cultists, but the attackers were tenacious and disciplined if anything. Still, many cultists died as they charged, dying before they could even approach the line.

Some of the Cultists didn't join the charge, though, instead remaining at range to fire their stubbers and lasguns at the Voidsmen. They were rebuffed by returning volleys of lasfire from the naval infantry, whose cohesion increased as Stukov began issuing his orders. These cultists didn't try to charge the Voidsmen, though, instead firing their weapons whenever the opportunity presented itself.

This was to be expected. After all, out of all the followers of the Chaos Gods, those who serve Tzeentch were the most orderly as Chaos could ever be. It wouldn't be too apparent at first, but some of the cultists would appear to be, in fact, Prosperine Spireguard. They were those mortal soldiers that hail from the Planet of Sorcerers, well trained and disciplined troops that serve directly under the Thousand Sons Traitor Legion. It's a relief that none of their Astartes masters were present, or else this situation might have been a desperate one.

Silas soon arrived in the battle, wielding the Eldar powerblade on one hand and an Ion pistol on another, dispatching one heretic at a time with the pistol. While the naval infantry managed to keep most of the Cultists pinned down, the beastmen, the Tzaangor, were not easily cowed. They emerged from the rear of the cultist's ranks, either pushing aside or simply trampling on the human Chaos worshippers when they were too slow to get out of the way.

The blasphemous chanting of massed Tzaangors rose to a crescendo as they charged forward, wielding jagged blades hued from metal and bone. Iridescent eyes glow with inhuman savagery, and the cruelly twisted horns that sprout from each Tzaangor's skull clattered together as they vie to be first into the fray.

Though some Tzaangors were cut down by lasfire, they were powerful and durable creatures. No less than twelve of them had broken into the first line of defending infantry, and promptly engaged them in close quarters. Behind them, a Chaos Sorcerer, a human acolyte, began chanting vile spells to throw at the Imperial remnants. It seemed only a fellow psyker could take him down in the middle of the battle…

A screeching Tzaangor brought its hateful blade down upon Silas, only to find a shimmering forcefield blocking the blow. Seeing its confusion, if only for a moment, the Rogue Trader cut off its blade arm with his own power blade, before shooting its brains out with the Ion Pistol. 

"Foul creature, spawn of Chaos," the man hissed as he flicked the blood off from the sword. The forcefield was still working optimally, thank the Emperor-

Another Tzaangor slammed Silas, this time knocking him back. He landed just a few feet away from Grummore, dizzied. There, right before them, the Tzaangor began striding forward in a slow, deliberate manner as it ignored the wound on its side. It wielded a blade, like its compatriots, its bolt pistol apparently lost when the Harlequins attacked their fleet.

Outside, the Chaos vessels, damaged as they were, were still somehow functioning. The Eldar escort ship evaded the first chaos frigate as it slammed against the wall of the Webway tunnel after getting its engines completely destroyed by a volley of laser fire, exploding in a corona of purple flame. The other chaos vessel lumbered closer and closer, aiming to ram the Gladius frigate that belonged to one of the other Rogue Traders.