Sergeant-at-Arms Fisk is fired upon by two unidentified gunmen. His breachers make short work of them.

“All that matters is we have a battleship, and they have not.”—Commodore Cassoph Kephem at the Battle of the Scarlet Quadrinary System

* * *

Continued from Page 1 . . .

Atlhough a little more than 400 meters long, the research station is a labyrinth of corridors and chambers. Packed within its solid plasteel walls is a huge operational center, a power chamber holding two Type A-19 plasma generators, crews quarters, medical center, a half dozen laboratories, and myriad other rooms serving unclear purposes.

To Gladden, his two squads of men are dangerously isolated.

The lieutenant had questioned the small size of his command, but the executive officer had explained the realities of navy life. Why should the captain use more resources than necessary to see what had happened at the research base?

Why should he endanger more men without knowing what was down there? What if the base was contaminated? What if pirates had attacked it—and they were still there?

“You have 20 highly dangerous voidsmen under your command, Mr. Gadden,” the exec had growled. “So, get down to the station, search it, secure it, and find out what happened.”

“If you get into trouble, then we’ll worry about sending more men down.”

Gadden had a different interpretation to the executive officer’s words: “You’re the lowest-ranking officer on the ship. You’re expendable. So just do the job.”

* * *

Although risky to use grenades in tightly contained spaces, Navis Breachers effecitvely used frag grenades to disrupt the gunfire of the sizable opposition they faced on the station.

Ten minutes after arriving at the station, Gadden and his men have advanced to within 60 meters of the operational center. And still no one has challenged them. No bodies have been found.

Up ahead, however, things are going to change Schematics of the base show that 30 meters ahead, the corridor enters a large cargo bay. So, too, does the corridor that Fisk and his men are advancing down.

And the small bio-scanner held by Gadden detects life signs  in that cargo bay.

Using his private command channel, Gadden asks Fisk’s opinion.

“We’re positioned just fine,” the NCO says. “If we were together, we’d be bunched up. Half our men wouldn’t be able to shoot because of the men in front.”

Gadden reviewed the ship’s schematic again. “Right. Let’s ease up quietly, announce ourselves, and see where things stand.”

* * *

His fire team had advanced as far as it could, Fisk knew. The dim lighting had helped, but as he stood behind a protruding bulkhead, he could peek down the corridor and see there was no more cover ahead.

But there was potential for trouble. Two men were standing by the hatch to the cargo bay, and they were armed.

A navy Breacher is caught by surprise by a gunman wielding a power maul. Both men died in their brief melee.

Amateurs, he thought. Incompetent. If they were worried about trouble, why weren’t they standing on the other side of the hatch? The hatch was built into a bulkhead. On the other side, they could use the bulkhead as cover.

Fisk really wanted to just shoot the men. But orders were orders. Until they showed hostility, he was obliged to treat them as Imperial citizens in good standing. After all, maybe their communications array was damaged? Maybe they were spooked by the presence of the strange armored men who’d boarded their ship?

Not likely, he knew. But there were protocols to follow. Still, no regulation said he had to step out into the open and make himself an easy target.

He signaled his men to be ready and then called out a challenge: identifying himself and ordering the men to drop their weapons.

To no surprise, they didn’t obey. Instead, they raised their weapons and opened fire.

That made things simple, Fisk thought. “Take them,” he said over the vox.

With that, two of his Breachers popped out of cover and opened fire, forcing the two gunmen to scuttle backward through the hatch. Temporarily pinned down, the men could do nothing as a third Breacher stepped forward and tossed a frag grenade through the hatch.

It was an easy throw, and the grenade landed exactly where it was intended—one meter behind the two gunmen.

Within the close confines of the corridor, the explosion was thunderous. More importantly, both gunmen were shredded by the grenade’s shrapnel.

“Advance,” Fisk ordered, two Breachers walked forward quickly but calmly, their shotguns at the ready.

The rest of the fire team followed.

* * *

Not far away, Lt. Gadden heard the gunfire and explosion. He signaled his men forward.

His tactical situation was far from ideal. While Fisk only faced two gunmen, Gadden’s team had to cross an open 12-meter-long corridor with no cover, and there were at least a dozen armed men deployed behind crates and cylinders to their front.

These men were offering a determined defense.

But the young lieutenant had trained repeatedly for this kind of situation. He’d given out his orders.  Already two of his men were moving forward with slab shields to their front, while two men followed with grenades at the ready.

As the Breachers with the heavy shields advanced, they felt the shields buck as the shells of multiple autoguns slammed into them. A lot of fire was coming their way.

The Breachers behind them had to estimate their grenade throws without looking. It was a gamble. But risking a peek over the shields to their front would be a disaster if, stunned or killed by a bullet, they fell and dropped their armed grenades.

“Grenades out,” the rear Breachers yelled almost simultaneously. The grenades soared over the slab shields and, as intended, the explosives passed through the cargo bay hatch and bounced across the floor toward the gunmen.

Two explosions followed seconds later, and men began to scream.

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The Corvus Cluster is a Warhammer 40K blog documenting our gaming adventures in the fantastical sci-fi universe of Games Workshop.