Once more into the breach

[Okor]

The rotting hulk of dead flesh, infested by disease, maggots, and worse looked down upon the small child, worms chewing through his twinned hearts. A crimson eye, dark shapes squirming through its infected depths, looked down upon the small child, her pale face beaming up at him, its visage of innocence, a face that has failed to know trouble, nor pain. A laugh stirred in distant depths, forcing its way through his twisted body, streaming from his jagged, infectious mouth regardless of any wishes he might have had otherwise. Broken teeth, set in a black-gummed maw set themselves in a grin beneath the Plague Marine's horned helmet. He extended an armoured gauntlet towards the youth, its warped surface dripping with a mixture of salt water and blood. "It would be a... pleasure." The word sounded unfamiliar in his throat, his ascetic lifestyle allowing for no such respite save the glorious heat of battle. The small child jumped and squealed in glee (Which was different from the screams of terror he had come to expect), prancing around Okor while humming a tune, the meaning of which he was unable to discern. The youngling began to scarper over his back, clinging to the nuclear power pack adhered to his back, its hum a constant companion. Her laughter seemed to brighten the world.

He looked back to his master, looking on the scene with an unknowable expression, three glowing eyes amid darkness piercing his soul. Ceramite-clad legs shook as he rose to his bloated, dead feat. He began to shamble into the roiling seas, his ward ably swimming through the reddened water. Silt shifted beneath his titanic tread, as the trio of glowing ocular organs (?) concealed beneath Nealaphh's hood studied his departure. Okor's eyes rarely left the child placed under his care. A wake, and a paddling child was all that marked his departure.

A seaweed-wrapped greave smacked on to the rockcrete around Costa Del Sol, glimmering Omnillium shrouding him, giving way to a simple, roughspun robe covering his form. While it was doubtful to hold up to any form of dedicated investigation, it should be enough to get the pair close enough to the gate. Stealth was a mere, temporary means to an end, far from an imperative. Rebbecca twirled around in her new cloak, its hem spinning around her slight body, youthful exuberance a stark contrast to the measured, ancient pace of the Marine. Dirtied cloth turning his massive frame into a formless mass, he walked down the darkened streets, Rebbecca's tiny hand grasped in his own gauntlet, surreptitiously sidling into shadowed alcoves when emergency crews ran past, dealing with the clinical application of violence the marines had inflicted. So far, the flames threatened to approach a bunker. Knowing full well what sort of things were stored inside such constructions, he emitted a low chuckle, picking up his pace, the shimmering surface of the portal to the Nexus in sight.

It was then that the stormtrooper appeared.

Porcelain-white armour covered dark skin, emerald eyes staring into his recesses. Short hair, cropped close to his skull, was spread across his skull. He held up a hand, motioning for Okor to stop. "Sir, there's been reports of a terrorist attack in the area, we apologize for the inco-" It was then that he glimpsed the armour beneath the robes, the prevalent hum and buzz of his armour and infestation penetrating the air. "Oh shi-" Okor's fist flew towards the trooper, the mass of skin, bone, and will flying towards the foe. Had it have hit, the trooper would have surely been slain on the spot, his youthful face pulverized into a slick, wet mass of shattered flesh and bone. Okor did not land his blow. The trooper turned away to the left, the marine's clenched claw merely grazing his cheek. cursing, Okor's armoured hand flew to his hip, the mag-locked bolter coming free, prepared to fire. The trooper fired first. A searing bolt of heat burnt into Okor's eye, plunging his vision into naught but darkness. Grunting in annoyance, and the last few vestiges of nerves crying out in agony, he fired, spraying broken stone into the air. He began backpedaling towards the portal, blindly firing towards the foe, inflicting screams of fear, and at least one grunt of pain. Rebbecca sheltered behind him, las-fire impacting off of his nigh-invulnerable frame. With one more step, he fell back through the portal, leaving the scene of devastation behind him, as the trooper clutched at the ragged stump of what was once his leg, trying in a fit of panic to stop the crimson tide.