There would be no re-supply mission, so the marines had to take the ship with the ammunition that they’d brought with them. The crate hauled in by Squad Ulanti held two full reloads for each member of the squad. The ammunition would go slightly further than it might have otherwise, as both of the assault squads had suffered casualties. Samuel looked back over his shoulder to Jada’s prone form, watching while she struggled to breathe. Even with the apparatus she was still in danger.
After what seemed like hours, but was only a matter of minutes, the shooting abated.
“Boss Taggart, the way ahead is secure, you can move up,” crackled Boss Ulanti’s voice over the com-bead, her transmission somewhat distorted by the hulk. Because the gigantic craft was a conglomerate of untold numbers of other ships and various pieces of space flotsam it was anyone’s guess as to what might be causing the interference.
Mag nodded at Samuel, who turned and tapped Ben on the shoulder, then the three marines moved through the corridor to join Squad Ulanti. Behind them, Squad Marsters spread out their defenses to cover both corridors. From here on out Harold, Virginia, and Boss Marsters would hold the beachhead. Assuming the other marines were successful and the ship was taken, then Wynn would move his people deeper inside to help secure the area and begin the salvage. Until then, Squad Marsters would serve as a rearguard, plugging the gap they’d smashed in the enemy’s defenses so that the marines pushing forward couldn’t be attacked from behind. Samuel appreciated the tactic, although knew from the additional briefings from Mag that more often than not, once the boarding party was far enough from the beachhead anything could happen.
The ship was a maze of corridors, compartments, and hostiles, and nothing could be trusted except the marine to the fore and the marine to the aft.
Samuel gingerly stepped over the bodies of several pirates as he, Mag, and Ben joined the other marines.
“They’ve pulled back for now, not sure if they’re routed or if they have something else planned,” said Boss Ulanti as the marines reached her position.
“They pulled back fast once we hit them, and I gotta say Boss, none of the compartments we’ve passed have that “squatter digs” look to them,” observed George Tuck, the rig operator for Squad Ulanti. “I’m thinking this ship is functional. Might still be grafted to the hulk, but my guess is, this one isn’t derelict.”
“I know you guys thrashed the place, but the landing zone looked to me like a functioning warehouse. I used to run a lifter on Baen 6, I’d know,” pointed out Andrea Baen, another orphan who had been recruited from Baen 6 at last year’s founding.
“Keen point, marine,” said Mag as her eyes scanned the ship’s interior before them. “If the Praxis Mundi specs are accurate, and the pirates haven’t made too many modifications, we should only be one compartment block away from the prime deck. We clear that and we’ll control the core of this vessel.”
“That’ll be a bitch to hold with so few of us,” said Spender from the front of the group as he held his combat rifle pointed down the corridor.
“Taggart is right,” agreed Boss Ulanti. “We take the center and bring Squad Marsters up, then any other marines who’ve been able to push inside should end up converging on us.” She hefted her combat rifle and began to march forward. “Check your corners, conserve ammo, and let’s get this done. Move out.”
Samuel and Ben looked at Mag and she nodded. Ben moved to the front of the group so that he could cover their advance alongside the marine who had replaced Yvonne White on Squad Ulanti.
Samuel again realized how few names of any of the replacements or new recruits he knew, as if only the fifteen marines who were with him in Basic could occupy space in his brain. It was a mental oddity, though from what Mag said, it was very common among marines who had been on the job long enough to lose comrades. It seemed like such a callous thing that his mind would perform such unconscious mental triage.
The journey through the next compartment block went without incident. Samuel agreed with Tuck that the ship was in fairly good condition, all things considered. Most of the holds were full of crates, shelving units, and barrels that supported the idea that while this was no longer a ship capable of deep space travel, it had certainly been kept functioning.
Samuel imagined that life on board a space hulk might hold all manner of surprises for those desperate or courageous enough to attempt it. When he recalled the sheer scale of the hulk he realized that once the marines had taken this Praxis Mundi vessel there would still be plenty more work to be done. The Reapers could seize a ship a day and the fleet would still be moored in the hulk’s presence for easily a month or more as they plumbed the depths of the great beast. All in all, Samuel was beginning to understand the cruel brilliance behind the Reaper fleet’s deployment upon such missions. The amount of potential revenue that could be generated from the ship salvage and space scrap alone was enough to pay for the fleet’s continued presence. Any losses incurred while taking the hulk, including expended ammunition, damage to assault craft and marines killed-in-action, would be more than recovered by any additional materials discovered on board the hulk.
“I get why management has us hitting this ship first. It isn’t about a strategically positioned beachhead,” Samuel said to Mag as they crept forward through the storage compartments towards the central deck. “It’s because long range sensors could tell that this ship still had artificial gravity, power sources, and before becoming part of the hulk this ship was a transport hauler. It’s safe to assume that with the pirate presence here they’d be storing plenty of food, equipment, loot, or whatever on board.”
Mag snorted with quiet contempt. “You’re finally catching on kid. This hulk is so big there isn’t really a strategically sound insertion point. You just pick a spot and dig in. It might as well be where the best salvage is sitting.”
The marines reached the entrance to the central deck and immediately Ben and the other shield-bearer began taking fire. The marines pushed through the corridor into the open deck and found themselves on the high deck with another deck below them. Samuel was reminded of the retail complexes back on Baen 6 where everything was designed to allow the pedestrian to view the storefronts on both decks from a high vantage point.
The marines kept close to the shield bearers as they hugged the wall on the right so that they could stay out of the field of fire from the gunmen below while engaging those on the high deck.
As the marines fought their way forward across the high deck the sounds of more shooting elsewhere in the central area erupted. Samuel recognized the unique sound of the standard issue Reaper combat rifle, then the telltale report of the breaching shotgun and knew that other marines had stormed the area. Samuel surged with confidence and aggression as he realized that his small band of marines were no longer the only ones in the fight, and that other boarding parties had managed to work their way to the central deck. He was not alone in this feeling, and the change in posture and disposition amongst the other marines was palpable.
“Weapons free!” shouted Boss Ulanti as the marines spread out across the high deck and began engaging targets as each marine took up individual fighting positions.
Samuel braced his rifle on the railing of the high deck and aimed down at the pirate gunmen below. The marine drilled several bloody holes in the back of a pirate sniper who was firing on the advancing marines from the other platoon. After he shot down a second pirate, Samuel saw an access hatch blow out and through the smoke strode another squad of Reapers, who immediately added their firepower to that of their comrades.