Wynn Marsters walked back to his own seat and strapped in as Squad Ulanti filed in and took their seats near the back of the assault craft. The plan was for Tango Platoon to use the heavily armored prow of the assault craft to punch through the hull of the Praxis Mundi ship, somewhere near the foredecks. Squad Taggart and Squad Marsters would be in first to fight for the breach and establish a beachhead, then Squad Ulanti would pick up their momentum and make the first real penetration into the hulk. Squad Taggart and Squad Marsters would take a few precious moments to assess casualties, triage wounded, and re-arm before falling in behind Squad Ulanti. They would move as a platoon to sweep and clear the Praxis Mundi vessel of hostiles. Once control of the ship was taken they would establish and secure any entrances to the greater body of the hulk.
Dozens of other platoons would be engaging in similar boarding actions throughout the space hulk, some focusing on taking the larger and more intact vessels that comprised the hulk while others would target and eliminate the various artillery and heavy guns that would be defending the hulk.
Samuel was sure, as were many of the other marines, that several of the ships that appeared grafted onto the space hulk were actually temporarily docked. If this was indeed a functional pirate hulk, as the marines suspected, and not a scrap ship that had been picked up by the hulk’s gravitational pull, then they were looking at encountering heavy resistance. Only time would tell, and according to the mission clock displayed above the airlock the time was swift approaching.
Samuel’s stomach lurched as the assault craft kicked on its engines and plunged into the void. The marine closed his eyes and thought about the hazard pay and the life that he’d dreamed it would buy for him and his family. He knew it was still just a dream, acknowledging that it was simple escapism. He knew that within less than three minutes, according to the mission clock, he would be leaping into battle with pirates in the depths of necrospace.
As if to calm his mind, as well as the others, the voice of Mag rang out on his com-bead, “This is the job.”
“This is the job,” responded the voices of fifteen salvage marines as they hurtled through the void towards the hostile scrap metal monstrosity.
Within seconds of hitting void, their assault craft was under fire. While the hulk was bristling with heavy guns that were easily visible, dozens of smaller weapon systems abruptly came to life across the expanse of the hulk. The pirates had been prepared for a troop assault, be it from corporate military forces or simply rival pirate clans.
From concealed positions flak-launchers and plasma-lances opened up on the flights of assault craft. The void of space between the Reaper tug and the hulk was soon bursting with thousands of tracer rounds, flak detonations, and spears of concentrated plasma as the hulk showed its teeth and defended itself. The Reaper tug carried only minimal defensive weapons, none of which would have any effect, especially at long range, against the heavy gun emplacements of the hulk. It was up to the two escort frigates to dart in and attack the guns before speeding back out again. Their armor and energy shields were insufficient to protect them from any direct hits so speed was paramount.
The naval crews that operated the combat frigates of the Reaper fleet were predominantly veterans from other military forces within the Grotto organization. Soldiers who had chosen Reaper duty over retirement or mustering out with disabilities, so the tactics employed by the light combat ships were effective and expertly executed.
While the assault craft were too small and moving too quickly to be effectively tracked and fired upon by the larger guns, the plasma-lances became particularly deadly as the craft closed distance with their landing targets.
The cloud of flak detonations damaged and disabled a number of the assault craft, leaving them floating in space and unable to maneuver, making them easy pickings for the plasma-lances. Several of the assault craft suffered direct hits from pinpointed plasma bursts. The impact crumpled the hull armor and allowed the super-heated plasma to turn everything inside the ships to ash before explosive decompression blew it apart.
When the assault flight finally passed through the flak cloud it had suffered nearly a fifteen percent casualty rate. Now though, the ships that made it through the picket line began to slam their prows into the hull of the massive conglomerate to disgorge their troops into the belly of the beast.
5. STORM AND VOID
Had Samuel been able to witness the void battle taking place it would have been one of the most beautiful and terrible sights of his life. As it was, he knew nothing of the dramatic events playing out around him. His awareness was limited to the grim faces of the fourteen other salvage marines of Tango Platoon as their ship rocketed towards the space hulk.
The lack of sound in the vacuum of space gave no indication of the carnage unfolding around them beyond the occasional ding of flak particles stinging the hull of their assault craft. The mission clock had been reset on launch to show distance to target, so that each marine could mentally prepare themselves for what was about to come.
Samuel tapped his boot on the floor and watched the distance rapidly approach zero, then, as it hit zero the entire ship shook and lurched. The prow of the ship had broken through the hull of the Praxis Mundi vessel and lodged the ship firmly in the skin of the vessel.
Theoretically, there would be a temporary vacuum seal thanks to the bulk of the assault craft jamming itself into the metal of the enemy vessel, though, because of the inevitable rate of decompression, at some point the seal would break.
The strategy for all boarding actions was to have the assault vehicle penetrate the ship deeply enough that the boarding party could seal one or more airlocks behind them as they fought their way into the ship. This would allow two of the three-person crew of the assault craft itself to don void suits and use their welding gear to cut the assault ship free so that it could return to the tug. If the boarding party was victorious, the assault craft would hold its position until relief troops could be ferried over. If the boarding party was defeated, the assault craft would be free so that it could escape, with or without any of the boarding party survivors, depending on the conditions of the engagement and the temperament of the craft’s pilot.
Mere seconds after the craft slammed into the space hulk, pressurized blast doors slid open and the automated seating units began disgorging the marines into the landing zone.
Each seat at the front of the column, starting with Ben and Harold, swiveled to face the exit and sprang forward to launch the marine off the ship before folding in on itself to make room for the next seated marine. In this way the ship was able to rapidly deploy two full squads in a matter of seconds.
Samuel’s breath was labored and he worked to calm himself down as the squads rushed across the shattered landing zone. Before the marine could even begin to gain an appreciation for the area in which they’d landed, the squads were under fire.
Ben’s shield rattled from the impact of hard rounds as they blasted into him from a number of directions. Ben shouted as he fired the breaching shotgun as fast as he could, joined by Harold who was also emptying his firearm with abandon. Samuel saw several hostiles scampering through the stacks of metal containers while they took potshots at the oncoming marines. He raised his rifle to return fire. By the time one went down in a spray of blood, he had already turned his rifle to the next target before the corpse of the first had hit the deck.