Holds up foot

Following Kor'sarro, as Thursk shot past the closest of the towering battlesuits, he saw a familiar form lying before it in the snow. The battlesuit lifted its foot over Jebe's sprawled form. Thursk recalled vividly what the result of that would be and he swung his bike around in a tight skid. He didn't like the champion much, but he wasn't going to allow the White Scar to be pulped. Even Jebe deserved a better death than that. As the machine toppled, the Dark Hunter threw himself from the seat and, with the impetus of the bike's slide behind him, he interposed himself between the fallen champion and the battlesuit. His palms slammed against the bottom of the battlesuit's foot, and the servos in his power armour whined in protest as he tried to stop the crushing descent.
The weight of it was incredible, more even than he'd imagined. He sank slowly to one knee, both arms bending back. 'Up, Jebe, get up,' he said. The White Scar groaned, and looked up blearily. 'Up, you stupid fool,' Thursk roared, kicking the White Scar in the side. The battlesuit redoubled its efforts and he felt a servo blow somewhere in his armour, and the hiss of a pierced cooling hose. Jebe scrabbled weakly at the snow. Thursk saw his fingers brush up against the eagle-headed pommel of his sword.
Jebe caught up the blade and rolled over, piercing the bottom of the suit's foot and jamming the pommel against the ground. Thursk let go, grabbed him and rolled them both aside as the battlesuit jerked and flailed, trying to right itself.

Hunter's Snare