In the Grimdark Sector with a System

Author Notes:

This chapter is basically a shameless cliffhanger to serve as a buildup for the next one. You have been warned!

That aside, please send help. We're falling further and further away from the income goal. I am worried about the upcoming rent the most :(

But do spend your moolah appropriately, if you only want to support GSS only, a five bucks donation is enough to gain access to all advanced chapters for this fic.

There are advanced chapters on P-atreon for both of my fics, with a couple of special bonuses if you read the fine print :D

https://www.patr-eon.com/Heartbreak117

https://ko-fi.com/heartbreak117/goal?g=0

Income goal 676/700 USD (It's not daijoubou anymore)

For my fics:

https://www.scribblehub.com/series/55793/reich-marshal-of-the-belkan-reich/

https://www.webnovel.com/book/reich-marshal-of-the-belkan-reich_23809095505377305

https://photos.app.goo.gl/waZgkRa3UQhqKQBi9

https://www.scribblehub.com/series/1375924/in-the-grimdark-sector-with-a-system/

-----------------------------------------------------------------

A burst of kinetic projectiles punches many holes through the thick blast door. After wasting nearly all the ammo on a useable Colonial Raptor, the door finally gave way to sheer metal fatigue and armor degradation. The commotion kicks up a large cloud of dust in the corridors of the Battlestar that lingers even after the Raptor has stopped firing. Moments later, figures wade through the yet-to-dissipate smoke clouds, their flashlights shed some light on the path ahead. I am one of the first to step through the dusty obstruction. My shield is poised to greet whatever surprise may lie ahead. Right behind me is the rest of 3rd Platoon and members of the Joint Task Force, which are the Sisters of Battle and Salamander Space Marines. Overall, the composition doesn't have much change, if any. Now that the blast door is a no-factor, we are to be one of the vanguards that explore the paths forward. Ideally, we are to determine the locations of the Pegasus' bridge and reactor room.

Looking around, we're inside one of the bays and corridors that form up the strut that connects the flight pod we were in with the rest of the Battlestar. In the Battlerstar Galactica series, this is probably one of the bays they used to service Vipers. Unfortunately, the site lacks the luster it used to have, scarred with battle damages and marred by years of disuse. That said, there are some new holes on the metal walls directly opposite us, formed by my wanton use of a Raptor's MACs. Now those are new, and I can't help but idly think that Pegasus would have made a protest about me shooting inside her if she could.

Hey! How uncouth of you!

But anyway, moving on.

Ironically, the Vipers that are in the bay are in a much, much worse state than the ones we found outside. Some have their insides gouged out, while others are burned into husks. What the Hell happened to you all? Did someone sabotage these ones or something? Most of the damages I see are internal, with only some sporting bullet holes from stray shots... I can't say for sure though as the passage of time clearly isn't kind to whoever or whatever is in this particular bay. I shrug before taking my position slightly forward from the rest, tucking behind a collapsed pile of crates. I look down at a scanner, tucked behind my shield and next to a set of energy packs, to check the environmental data.

"Air is breathable, no toxic containment. However, be careful when you approach the Vipers. Those things run on nuclear fusion and the scanner shows a spike when you're near them. Not to the point of harmful, but enough to stay wary anyway."

"Then it's a good thing we all got our masks on." Sergeant Johnson steps up near me before turning around and scans the rest of the service bay. "Anything on the motion sensor?"

I shake my head. "Negative."

Weiss, who is sticking with me as my Battle Buddy, also says a negative. "Sensor-skull returns nothing on the horizon, at least for now."

Johnson nods. "If only shits stay as chill and silent as this room is..." The Sergeant looks at the human husks dotted around the bay. "But knowing us Froggers' luck, we may as well see some live Clankers by the end of the day."

I shrug with a lazy smile behind my rebreather. "At least we all know that they're pitifully under-protected against our lasers. One good hit to their torso then... Poof, Clankers go clanking."

Weiss deadpans. "Is that supposed to be an attempt at a funny pun?"

I raise my head as if basking in the praise. "Sometimes, my ingenuity frightens even myself."

Weiss groans. "Why did Milady think giving you recaf was a great idea...?"

"Because Ein is more unconventionally effective when given recaf in an environment with external pressure." Comes the voice of Mama who has donned her helmet, much like the rest of the Sisters and Salamanders. "I presume Sergeant Johnson can attest to that quite well."

Johnson nods, chuckling. "It's as you've said, Milady. Pardon my crude words, but when shit hits the fan, give Ein her recaf and she will wipe away all your worries. You better pick up the skill to know when and where to give Ein her dose, Rookie."

Weiss blinks her eyes rapidly at Johnson for the suggestion. "Is that supposed to be a joke, sir?"

Johnson replies, speaking facts. "No, it's a freaking tactic, Rookie."

Chapter Master Tu'shan laughs lightly when he sees Weiss slump in defeat due to my ridiculousness. "As amusing as it is to see your banter, it appears we all are ready to proceed, isn't that right?"

There's a few nods here and there before Johnson says. "Alright, boys and girls, forward! With any luck, we'll be smashing some Chrome soon enough!"

With Johnson's encouraging words as the cue, I move out of my cover, with Weiss and the rest of 3rd Platoon trailing near me. We hug the walls, with lasrifles, or laspistol in my case, pointing front, up, and down. 3rd Platoon scans for any threat directly ahead of the Boarding Party, while the Sisters of Battle breach and clear the occasional room behind us. Due to their sizes, the Salamander Space Marines pick up the unenviable task of shoring up our rear flank. Although we have fresh units guarding our initial insertion point and preventing potential flankers, one can't be too careful exploring the unknown. What if our reserves fail to notice or contain the threat, leaving it lashing at our unsuspecting backs? That is not something the Boarding Party wants to happen, so the Salamanders take to protecting our rear very seriously. If anything can break past them to hit the Sisters of Battle or even us 3rd Platoon, then Holy Emperor we're so fucked.

Stray thoughts aside, other than the occasional human husks in the hallways and quarters, we fail to come across anything meaningful. It takes around half an hour before we finally cross over to the main hull of the Pegasus. Surprisingly, it's not sealed at all and we make it deeper into the Battlestar without much fanfare. After reporting to the rear units that it's safe to push forward and set up another line of defense, the Boarding Party resumes our exploration.

"So, which path should we take?" I ask, coming across a fork in the road.

Mama suggests. "Trust your gut and pick one, Ein. The other path can be explored by the next team."

I nod, before stepping forward. "Then, far left it is."

Once more, we set out into the dark belly of the Pegasus.

Seriously, is that how you treat a lady?

Bar some soft banter, the Boarding Party proceeds with relative silence. A semi-permanent fixture is the sounds of our boots, both soft and metallic, kicking against the floor and doorways. How do we even get into those locked rooms, you may ask? Our Servo-skull can be quite handy. Or, in the case that a door is rightfully sealed or jammed, Chief Librarian Vel'cona straight-up punches and rips open the door. Apparently, having Space Marines means you don't need to worry about lubricating your doorway. Neat.

Still, the deeper we go, the easier it is for us to see that something is not quite right.

"Other than utter desolation and human corpses, anyone else manages to gleam something of note?" Tsavorae asks after walking out of a ruined cantina.

A few members of the Boarding Party shake their heads. I go on to say. "None so far, Sister Tsavorae. That, in itself, is a cause for caution."

Tu'shan agrees. "Indeed. We saw Clankers back in the hangars alongside human husks. Yet, so far, we only see the human parts."

Weiss chimes in. "We come across signs of combat, a great many of them, so where are the Clankers? Surely the crew of the Pegasus managed to kill some of them?"

Johnson adds. "What if the Clankers blitzed the life support on the voidship? Maybe they did it so fast that the crew couldn't manage to defeat even one Clanker?"

"It is a possibility." I nod, still maintaining my caution as we make our way forward. "But then that begs the question. Where are the Clankers?"

Mama hums before asking. "Where do they need to go to disabled life support?"

I reply. "If they couldn't disable it remotely, the Clankers must seize the bridge or the voidship's engineering room."

Mama then turns to Tsavorae. "Contact the rear line, and tell them to be on the lookout for potential ambush by engineering."

"At once, Canoness Superior." Tsavorae obliges.

The conversation then dies down as once again, there's little to be said about the state of the Battlestar. Pegasus must have been glorious, for a time, but then humanity decided to be stupid and ruined what could have been a great defender of mankind.

Aww~! I think this is the first time someone actually said something nice about me.

I stop suddenly, pressing myself against the left side of the corridor and crouching down in the blink of an eye. Weiss, demonstrating her strange adaptability, immediately perches right behind me. Her lasrifle is holding slightly over my head, aiming down the well-lit corridor, thanks to our flashlights. Without hesitation, the rest of 3rd Platoon also claim their positions. Those who can, settle behind some solid cover in the hallway. Most opt to breach into nearby rooms, taking cover inside them and only poke their lasrifles out. Though slightly surprised by our sudden, yet well-oiled action, Mama leads her Sisters of Battle to form an overlapping field of fire with that of 3rd Platoon. More than that, she has Tsavorae and her Fireteam guarding the vents and other avenues of approach. The Sisters are poised to prevent us from being flanks from the sides where there are interconnected bulkheads. Lastly, Tu'shan has the bulk of the Salamanders set up a bastion of green to guard our backs. Unlike the Guards or the Sisters who still require environmental cover, the Salamanders just stand there, menacingly.

Gulp I wish I could help but... Yeah, I pretty much can't. Morale support it is, then.... Don't make a mess of my inside, any more than it already has, at least.

I trust my instinct, so without looking around, I ask. "Can someone check the motion sensor? I have a strange feeling like we are being hunted."

Chief Librarian Vel'cona replies. "Let me do you one better." For some reason, I can feel there's a smirk beneath his helmet.

The Salamander Sanctioned Psyker then channels his energy, broadcasting etheric pings of sorts at regular intervals. It's faint, nearly undetectable if not for my experience playing with my Abyss Totem Stigmata. What Vel'cona is doing right now is like echolocation, the pings allowing him to detect movement in the confined space of the Pegasus' hull. The effectiveness of this technique is even better than the scanner built into a Space Marine's helmet at detecting enemies, but faltering at doing anything else.

"I have detected multiple unknowns coming toward us. They're cold, unalive, and will soon come into our sensors' range." Vel'cona reports. "It appears you have a good instinct, Corporal."

I nod before asking. "Rules of engagement?"

Mama is the one to reply. "If they gaze at you funny, scrap them."

I grin. "In that case, don't blame us Guards if we hog all the kills, Mama."

Ehm... Should I be concerned?