The station manages to land a hit on the Aegis, stripping her Void Shields. This makes up your mind in a hurry. "Simo, pull the station's teeth. I'm sure the Navy is going to want it back, so try not to blow it up. Vir, stand by to put in a call to our local Navy contact. Inform them that the listening post is mostly intact, but full of pirates that we just don't have the manpower to handle. They are welcome to come take it back whenever they feel like. Frank, put us on an intercept course for the wrecked Wolfpacks."
The station's one remaining turret is dealt with in short order, though the resulting detonation does take the top eighth of the station with it. Simo secures the Sunsears as Frank get the Aegis back underway.
As you come into visual range of the ruined Wolfpacks, you see a sight that chills you to the bone: the hulls are as much living flesh as cold metal, daubed with festering runes and littered with leaking pustules. You promptly order Frank to hold the Aegis clear, and Simo to pound the wreckage until it's so much floating shrapnel. You may not know much of heresy or the things that live in the Warp, but that Wolfpack is clearly something that should not be allowed to continue to exist.
This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
As Simo begins to methodically liquefy the Wolfpacks form bow to stern, you speak quietly to Vir, "Append what we found with these Wolfpacks, images included if possible, so that they know to bring plenty of priests and flamers. Send a copy to Lord Pyrus, and ask him if there is some more conventional way we could contact him, a message dead-drop or something."
Vir simply accepts your orders, and gets on with the process of composing and sending the messages.
Thus you find yourself considering your next destination with half a bottle of good ale in hand, the other half warming your belly.