Sean-Michael Argo - Carrion Duty

I have moved through much of the last decade on the drift, he thought as he used the thrusters to alter his trajectory so that he was hurtling towards the main deck. At least here I have found something resembling peace. The thought of ravagers tearing through the station made his adrenaline surge, and he marveled at how attached he’d actually become. Why the enemy had come, what they might be after, meant little to him, only that they must be pushed back.

“I like it here,” said Rhett over the main channel, very nearly laughing at himself at how simple his motivations seemed compared to the vastness of the human experience, “I can’t let them have Andromeda without a fight.”

Vulture Six kept flying in the other direction, putting more and more distance between the Six and the conflict unfolding in and around Andromeda Station. As Rhett and the twins neared the spinning cylinder that was the exterior of the main deck, they could see the ghastly damage that had been dealt to the aft sections. On the spinward side of the station he could make out the dark outline of the warship Fatalis , sailing perilously close to the main deck, indicating that the ship had a pilot more skilled and daring than even Vitrian, who was certainly the most cavalier stick jockey Rhett had ever known.

“Copy, Calibos,” said Vitrian through the comm-bead after a moment, and Rhett could almost hear the young man smiling at what must seem like reckless bravado on Rhett’s part. “Good hunting.”

Rhett could see several of the ragged holes torn in the hull of the station, some of them plugged by what appeared to be low grade troop transports, the kind usually favored by the various pirates and ravagers that hunted in the black. The Fatalis was something out of legend, and the talk painted the warship as a ghost from the bloody initial days of the Wageri Diaspora, when the once great corporation lost a trade war and tore itself apart in defeat. Already, he’d witnessed enough firepower put on display by the ravager ship to call the legends true, though what they could possibly want with the station remained a mystery. This was an accredited station, and had the official, even if not overly functional, protection of Aegis Corporation. Attacking the station would put the Fatalis on every hit list the company had, though Rhett knew as well as anyone that once the Fatalis finished its grisly work here it would likely disappear once more into the black.

Rhett turned his thrusters and slowed his approach so that he could activate his mag-clamps and land near a maintenance access hatch without too tough a landing. The twins made it stationside seconds after he did, and Rhett was thankful for their presence. No doubt the cultists had begun gearing up moments after the attack, and Rhett considered that it was likely they’d been actively hoping that something like this would happen. For now, he was happy to have them on his side, not that he had any clue what he was going to do. They were three men armed with rifles and pistols, so there was little they could do against a battle-hardened warship, but they had to do something.

“If the ship wanted to kill the station they’d have just stayed at distance and torpedoed Andromeda into oblivion,” observed Rhett aloud as he activated the maintenance hatch, pleased with himself for having successfully argued with the captain in favor of fleet paying for all the scrappers on the Six to have maintenance upgrades on their station access profiles. “The shooters on those barges are either after something specific or they’re trying to seize the whole station. All we can do is push them back and hope that warship leaves without blowing us up out of spite.”

“It is unlikely that they intend to allow Andromeda to survive regardless, and so our actions will be of little consequence,” observed Dante as he moved through the sliding door of the hatch behind Rhett. “But guns speak loudly, yes? They will have to listen for at least a while.”

“Fair enough,” nodded Rhett as he led the cultist through the maintenance tunnel, knowing from his study of the station and occasional use of the tunnels that they burrowed across the entire station. The circulation system of Andromeda allowed maintenance crews to move people and equipment without disrupting the day to day routine of life aboard the station.

Rhett sprinted down the tunnel, remembering that he had several more left turns and at least one more ladder with a hatch in between him and the station’s main deck. If all the barges struck near engineering then no doubt, the boarders were trying to seize control of the station’s vital systems. Based on the time of the night cycle, Rhett knew that nearly forty percent of the station’s population would be in the main deck, perhaps even fifty since it was just after shift change. He knew that from a tactical perspective, Dante was correct, and there was little they could do with rifles from inside the station. Even if they could kill or drive out the boarders, there would still be a warship out there in the void ready to hit them with more torpedoes. At least if that happened, thought Rhett as he turned left and then left again, he could die standing for something more than a bounty reward.

He couldn’t place why exactly that was suddenly so important, and yet the former trooper felt as if he were winning back a long dead part of himself. He pounded up the ladder towards main deck and knew that no matter how the next few minutes unfolded, he was doing what needed to be done. It was rare indeed that a man could be righteous, thought Rhett as he opened the small hatch so that he could leap down onto the floor plating of one of the lower levels of main deck.

He was going to make the most of it.

The main deck was packed with people and they were all surging in different directions, a general panic having set in to create a chaotic press of bodies. The three armored men pushed and shoved their way to an observation patio.

Rhett gripped the rails as he looked up and down the main deck, taking in the environment and assessing the tactical reality of his situation. He could see a squad of Port Authority cor-sec troopers plowing through the crowd, heading towards the rising sound of gunfire below deck.

“The ravagers are likely attempting to seize and hold choke points,” observed Dante. He pointed towards the troopers as the squad broke into two smaller groups and moved to enter separate hatches that led down to the engineering core of the station. “The security checkpoints that keep out drunks and traders will have little effect on boarders coming up through engineering.”

“Well, let’s get down there and do what we can,” Rhett said before gripping the railing and heaving himself over it, making hard landing on the patio beneath them.

The twins followed and in moments the three armored men caught up to the last cor-sec trooper as the young man, likely on his first rotation by Rhett’s estimation, rushed through an open hatch. With the twins in tow, Rhett caught up to the trooper, who turned and tried to raise his weapon against the bounty scrapper.

“Easy, kid, we’re here to help,” said Rhett as he swiftly extended his arm to grip the trooper’s weapon and pin it firmly against the young man’s chest, “Bounty scrappers from Vulture Six .”

“Right, okay then, well,” stammered the young trooper as he took in the sight of Rhett and the twins. He took a few steps back and then continued down the hallway. “Pirates have taken engineering, but they aren’t advancing. Nobody’s sure what they want.”

“Doesn’t matter, we have to dislodge them before they accomplish whatever it is,” said Rhett as the group raced down the corridor.