Peter and five battle-brothers sat inside a boarding torpedo as it launched from the Blackrock toward the armed freighter. As the torpedo neared the enemy Void Shield, it rapidly slowed. Once through the shield, it accelerated to full speed again. This was a shared trait of Void Shields and most other Imperium of Man shields: they stopped fast-moving objects, but not slow ones.
With a violent jolt, the Melta Cannon at the torpedo's nose blasted the ship, melting its hull. The torpedo plunged straight through the molten outer shell and into the enemy vessel.
Peter had figured the other side wouldn't dare open fire. Besides, even if a freighter like that did shoot, its weapons would most likely miss.
As the boarding torpedo's hatch opened, Peter jumped out, carrying a Boarding Shield in one hand and a Bolter Gun in the other. The five battle-brothers followed. Heavy footsteps sounded all around them as a group of Sailors in Flak Armour came running over. Their weapons hung at their waists or were slung over their shoulders, safeties off. They didn't dare provoke these Angels of Death.
The officer at the head of the group snapped to attention, crossed his hands over his chest, and gave an Aquila Salute.
"Sir, I—" BANG!
Before the officer could finish, a bolt round blew his head apart. Peter stood behind his Boarding Shield, his Bolter Gun braced and still smoking. The other battle-brothers opened fire too. Against Sailors with their weapons still slung and their safeties off, it was nothing less than a massacre.
The other six battle-brothers had also boarded the Rogue-class Freighter under Anthony's command. The two teams moved in sync, aiming to seize both ships at nearly the same time.
After clearing the landing site, Peter's order came over the internal comms.
"Kaelen, Greggor, you're coming with me to take the bridge. Freddy, take the other two and secure the engine room."
"Into the Furnace, All Forged into Steel!"
Peter and the battle-brothers shouted their battle cry.
Boarding was a specialized tactical skill, and this was standard procedure for taking a freighter. The bridge was the ship's brain, and its engines were its legs. Against a vessel like this, securing those two locations first was paramount. Once they succeeded, whether they killed the command staff or destroyed the engines, the ship would be a lamb led to slaughter.
Of course, other types of ships called for different tactics. They might secure the Weapon Depot first, prioritize eliminating the enemy Space Marines, take control of the enemy Autocannons, or teleport straight to the bridge.
Whatever the tactic, they absolutely didn't do what certain purple-armored fools did: charge straight into the lower decks and slaughter tens of thousands.
Then they gave the enemy plenty of time to ready heavy weapons and organize a counterattack, while Space Marines from other ships rushed to reinforce them. In the end, they got their asses kicked and could only call Peter and his squad in to patch things up. As Peter recalled this past experience, there was absolutely no personal grudge involved. Damn it!
The two impromptu squads split up, and Peter's three-man team headed straight for the bridge. In the cramped corridors of a spaceship like this, a Space Marine was less an infantryman than an armored vehicle.
A few Sailors carrying Laser Guns or Autoguns appeared along the way, still dazed. They'd heard gunfire, grabbed their weapons, and were staying alert under the Captain's orders.
Then they suddenly heard heavy footsteps. Each one sounded like a giant hammer slamming into the floor, thud after thud. A moment later, a massive Boarding Shield appeared in the corridor. A few more bolt rounds rang out, and many of the Sailors fell before they could even react.
Gradually, the Captain finally realized what was happening. The Space Marines were killing everyone they encountered, and heading straight for the bridge and engine room. They weren't here to capture some fugitive at all. He'd been deceived.
An emergency announcement ordered all armed personnel throughout the ship to enter combat readiness. The Space Marines aboard were enemies, and everyone was authorized to return fire.
But by the time the order went out, it was already too late. Peter had reached the area near the bridge. As he rounded a corner, a fierce volley of laser fire erupted against his Boarding Shield.
It was a Twin-linked Lascannon. Its heavy firepower and rate of fire drove Peter back, leaving more than a dozen shallow dents in his Boarding Shield.
He should have expected this. Even though it was a freighter, the command bridge was obviously a critical location. It couldn't possibly be left lightly guarded.
Peter retreated around the corner. Seeing that the heavy weapon blocking the corridor was too much to push through, he reached for a Frag Grenade at his waist.
But Kaelen spoke up beside him.
"My lord, want me to handle this?"
Peter looked at the flagship guard, who carried a Heavy Flamer and wore a Bolter Pistol at his waist. He nodded, stepped aside, and let Kaelen take over.
Kaelen went straight to the corner, pointed the Flamethrower toward the Twin-linked Lascannon's position, and squeezed the trigger. A dragon of burning Promethium surged toward the enemy's position.
Kaelen loved flamers. They were very effective in a boarding action against ordinary humans. Their range was short, but they didn't have to hit their targets directly to kill them. The heat from the flames and the immense amount of oxygen consumed by the fire overwhelmed the ventilation fans. In a heartbeat, the ordinary humans operating the Lascannon behind their cover passed out from the extreme heat and lack of oxygen.
Brother Filon had once told him that an ancient Terra history of martial arts included the line, "The deadliest poison is oxygen."
Kaelen breathed in the cool air inside his Power Armour, exhilarated. Looking at the ordinary humans collapsed from lack of oxygen, his brothers didn't even bother wasting bolt rounds on them. They simply trampled over them without mercy, bones cracking beneath their boots.
At last, they reached the command bridge door. Peter shot it several times with his Bolter Gun, weakening one spot, then smashed a fist-sized hole through it. Several lasers fired through the opening. Peter had already dodged to the side, but a few shots still struck his shoulder plate. He paid them no mind.
This time, he pulled the pin on a Frag Grenade and tossed it through the hole. BOOM! The command bridge was thrown into chaos.
Peter followed up by kicking in the door, and the three of them charged inside. A dozen or so Sailors remained on the bridge, weapons in hand. They were each picked off with a single, precisely aimed bolt round. Kaelen, meanwhile, held his Heavy Flamer in one hand and fired his Bolter Pistol with the other.
The three of them aimed their weapons at all the senior officers present. Peter activated his external loudspeaker and turned to the middle-aged man who was clearly the Captain.
"Captain, this ship is ours now. You have two choices: surrender or die."
The short-bearded Captain glared at them, gritted his teeth, and shouted furiously.
"You damned heretical traitors! I will never surrender to you. The Emperor will punish you!"
As he spoke, he reached for the Laser Gun at his belt.
BANG! Another precisely aimed bolt round struck, and Peter shot the Captain's gun hand clean off.
"Not the brightest, but at least he's got some courage."
Peter gave his honest assessment.
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