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Heavy Metals, Heavier Firepower
B3, Chapter 4: Ill Fated Boarding Actions (Part 2)

B3, Chapter 4: Ill Fated Boarding Actions (Part 2)

Axton sighed as he split up with Thomas. “You’d think that these fuckers would get a better hobby or something…”

Thomas overheard this grumbling despite the fact that they were now running in two different directions thanks to Group Chat and gave a short laugh in response.

“Yeah, the Andromedan Empire really has a rampant hard-on for shit like this, don’t they? Wanna bet if there are any Players among this gaggle of idiots?”

Axton replied rather curtly with a tone that expressed his annoyance that it didn’t really matter whether or not there were Players among the boarding parties. After all, given his experiences so far, if he said one thing it would likely be the other. It was almost as if reality (both real reality and the in-game reality) existed solely to throw weird and wacky things his way. But, then again, the game world did exist to entertain the masses…

“Fine, fine.” Thomas yelled back over the Chat. “Then how about a competition over who kills or incapacitates the most enemies?”

“Not interested right now, Thomas,” Axton replied as he rounded a corner and withdrew a looted weapon from his Inventory. “Let’s just focus on kicking ass and taking names.”

“And preventing them from taking the people on board this ship, right?”

Thomas didn’t need for Axton to reply, as he could practically hear Axton giving a curt nod. Thomas rounded corner after corner, this time using the map to know where he was and where he was going. Axton, on the other hand, was already close to one of the areas that were about to be boarded and began to set up a few things in preparation for what was to come.

He extended the shock baton in his hand to its full length and gave it a few swings. With each movement that the baton made, arcs of discharged electricity danced along the striking area of the weapon. Such a thing was unnecessary in the long run, but Axton figured that those arcs were there simply to show that the weapon had an electrical ‘element’. If that hunch was correct, then they were merely there for decoration and nothing more, not eating any power in the meantime.

Then again, they might have a purpose beyond that, but he didn’t know whether or not that was the case just yet.

The boarding craft flew straight as an arrow towards the ship. That one, singular ship had a crew aboard that had made a mockery of their masters, their betters, and as such, it needed to be brought down. The orders were clear as day; kill everyone except the Outworlders, who were to be taken alive. After that, the ship was to have its main reactors sabotaged in such a way that they would go critical and blow the thing to kingdom come.

They did not expect for there to be much resistance beyond the near-unkillable Outworlders. After all, the people on board were not Andromedan citizens, and therefore obviously were inferior in every single way.

They likely didn’t even know how to fly the ship they were on, only having gotten as far as they had by randomly pushing buttons and flipping switches while getting absurdly lucky. Hell, they likely didn’t even know which way a gun was meant to point, let alone that they needed to be loaded.

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Those on board the boarding craft could not contain their glee. This was going to be a slaughter, and they knew it. What hope could these backward savages possibly have against them? They were Chosen. They were ones who had the great fortune of living in the Empire, and while their parents had been slaves, they were not. Sure, they had collars on their necks, but those were there to make sure that they didn’t get captured and tortured by the barbarians and savages that they were tasked with fighting.

They were not slaves, and they were not brainwashed into believing so. It didn’t matter what the primitives said, as they only spoke lies anyways.

“Ten Seconds till Contact.”

A mechanical voice echoed in their heads. Yes! Glorious! Soon a slaughter would begin! They would teach these people a valuable and fatal lesson about crossing the Empire.

The craft turned on its inertial erasers as it made contact with the side of the ship, going from a speed of several kilometers a second to near zero in under three seconds. If those inertial erasers didn’t exist, they would all be dead, but they were not. Truly, the Empire had all the best toys. The front of the craft emitted a concussive blast, shattering the external hull of the ship and opening a hole for the boarding party to use.

To give them a further bit of intimidation factor, the front of the craft then began to emit a dense smoke that billowed out from the hole, blocking line of sight as the front ramp fell down and the Imperial Marauders rushed out. The Marauders took a few steps into the room they were in and immediately began to open fire in nearly every direction, their blasters drowning anyone nearby in a torrent of superheated energy.

However, when they finally got their bearings, they noticed that there was no one around. This was… odd. Usually these primitives would have their ships tell them that there was a boarding party on its way to that specific area. Maybe they were both dumb enough and unlucky enough to fumble the controls and turn off that feature. Classic barbarians!

Walking forward with a swagger fit for a JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure villain, they made their way into what appeared to be a barely used cargo bay. One step. Two steps. Three steps. Finally, they were all clear of the boarding craft, at which point a loud clanking sound came from above.

A massive cargo box fell from above, landing in front of the empty boarding craft’s opening. What was this? A vain attempt to trap them? What a fucking joke. Nothing could stop them!

As they mockingly laughed at the attempt to keep them from being cowards (which they were not), a noise began to play over the localized speakers. The ‘song’, if you could call such noise such a thing, eventually finished playing, at which point a squeaking sound came from around a container. Everyone raised their blasters but were stunned to see a weird little puppet on a children’s hover-trike come into view.

Then the speakers crackled to live again, and a growl-like voice came on.

“I want to play a game with- COUGH COUGH COUGH!”

The person using that voice obviously wasn’t suited to making it.

“Ah, fuck it.” The now normal voice grumbled. “As I was saying, I want to play a game with you.”

“We are not interested in your games, barbarian!”

The voice went silent before starting again.

“Then know that you should not have tried to board right next to a hangar door. You could have survived, but I guess we’ll see if the physics of this world are more realistic or more fantastical.”

“Wait, wha-?”

The nearby hangar doors opened far too quickly than they should have, obviously showing that their electronics had been fiddled with. Instantly, all the air inside the hangar was vented and the Marauders suddenly wished that they had brought their helmets with them. Rather than being sucked out in typical SciFi fashion, the now breathless people in the area floated aimlessly as the reverse osmosis and terrible paradoxical heat and cold of the void of space took its toll.

Though no one in the now vented hangar could hear him, Axton smiled and added his final observation.

“Well, at least there are some realistic things in this world.”