"General quarters, General quarters, all hands man your battle stations! Stand by to repel boarders!"

Jerry and his team are out of their chairs and ready to go in under ten seconds as the large display screens light up with the tracking display of the space around the Dauntless. The situation wasn't looking great. They had met their escorts from the Galactic Federation, what the enlisted were generally calling the Space UN, and said escorts had apparently legged it at the first sign of trouble.

"Glad to see the Space UN's as useless as the Earth UN." Isabella Ramos, a fiery former Marine Raider who's temper was legendarily in inverse proportion to her height, spits, charging the bolt on her rifle

"Let's just be thankful we armed the Dauntless instead of adapting the plans from the probe to the letter yeah? That'll surprise the bug eyed monsters! Nice little bonus of developing rail guns to lob cargo into orbit to construct the Dauntless." chimes in Juan 'Johnny' D., referred to by last initial only as his surname was a relic of a father he despised.

He manages to make his quip right as the vibration of the Dauntless's weapons systems firing starts to reverberate throughout the ship and a few commandos cheer in response.

Jerry checks the read out again, the first volley of weapons fire had clearly done something to the mass of dots rendered in red but there was more where they'd come from.

"Shit. Looks like we're doing okay, but that's a lot of damn ships, and they're fast too!"

"What do you guys think? Space pirates? Warlord? They here to steal our women and throw us all in chains?" asks one commando.

"I think you should all cut the chatter and get your game faces on. That big one there... it just jinked an anti-ship missile." Jerry notes, "Helmets on, face plates up. We seal up when we head out. Internal comms only unless you need to address someone outside our team net. I- Shit!"

A spread of missiles pops out of one of the enemy vessels racing for the Dauntless at full speed.

The 1MC immediately crackles to life. "Attention all hands! Vampire, vampire, vampire! Brace for shock to port!"

The commandos move as one into brace positions, the tension growing as they all watch the screen.

If these were heavy anti ship missiles, this could be the end of them.

The display shows the Dauntless's point defense weapons firing, filling near space with high velocity 30mm cannon shells. One missile in the spread down. Two. Three. Four... but the rest of the spread can't be stopped... but when they hit... there's just a slight jolt.

"...The fuck? Not that I'm complaining, but no way those were all duds!" Isabella notes.

Jerry stands up straight, listening intently, and just barely catching the echoes of small arms fire nearby.

"No they hit with their payload, those were some sort of boarding torpedo! They've landed troops damn it!"

Johnny points to the screen. "There's more to come too boss!"

"Fine. I'm calling it in!"

Jerry switches channels with a flick of a tongue switch in his helmet.

"Control, Dagger Six. We've been boarded."

"Control copies Dagger, they've already been neutralized. Two of the boarding torpedoes opened to vacuum in the armor."

Jerry winces. "Damn, but they might still be active. Surely they've got pressure suits or something."

"We had some defensive assets in place already, Dagger. I have orders for you though. The Admiral wants you all to move to your nearest primary docking port, should be docking port two. Incidental boardings by torpedo the rest of the crew can handle, but special operations has to hold those docking ports at all costs!"

"Aye aye, en route."

Jerry switches back to the team channel before letting out a sharp whistle.

"We got business people! Button up! Docking port two is the closest one to us, the Admiral has ordered us to hold it at all costs. Frankly I think he's underestimating us. No casualties! Move out!"

Face plates sealed, the now faceless special operations troops race out into corridors that are alive with people. Damage control teams are hustling from point to point, checking systems or responding to possible emergencies as indicated by their myriad systems.

"Gang way!"

The Dauntless rocks under another impact and the 1MC makes an announcement that Jerry can't hear with his blood in his ears. Down the corridor, a series of bright flashes signals the arrival of the enemy.

A couple soldiers from another part of the Dauntless run by, throwing themselves behind cover and returning fire as Jerry snaps his rifle up and his first alien bad guy comes into view. Its weapon was absolutely vomiting bright light out at the soldiers engaging it, but the head still seemed to be where it was supposed to be, he lines up his crosshair and a double tap of 6.5 Creedmoor sends the hostile tumbling to the ground.

"Flash bang around that corner! Take prisoners if possible, every single alien we bag is an intelligence treasure trove!"

Isabella races forward at a dead sprint, tossing not one, but two flash bang grenades around the corner before yelling 'flash bang out!' over her public address system and putting her back to the wall.

By the time the flash bangs go off the entire team's practically stacked up around the corner and they flood the passageway as one.

They find a motley mix of pressure suits and what appeared to be jury rigged armor in front of them, scattered down the corridor to the breach where the boarding torpedo impacted. Most of the enemy were reeling from the flash bangs. A few aliens further back were disoriented but still trying to sight in with their strange weapons.

One of them was some sort of eight legged spider looking creature. Jerry nearly does a double take as the spider woman skitters to the side. There was no doubt that the alien was female, her outsized feminine features blatantly clear even through her pressure suit. Which did absolutely nothing to distract Jerry’s mild arachnophobia from the fact that she was a giant alien spider.

She was lifting some sort of massive glowing weapon that Jerry didn't want to see fire from this side of the muzzle. A burst of 6.5 ammo takes her down quickly, her legs curling into her body just like a terrestrial spider as her body crumples.

The pirates closest to the now expired spider alien are thankfully more normal looking bipeds, and they too go down to precision rifle fire from the men and women of Jerry's team as they rush in to fall on top of the disoriented pirates.

"Zip cuffs! Let's go people! We got places to be!"

Jerry pounces on a quadruped that was somewhat horse shaped and had a heavy weapon mounted to its back. He slams a knee into her ribs to keep her on the ropes, and it once again, mysteriously, was she, a large protrusion in front of her forelimbs in her space suit could only be breasts barring some sort of strange air bag. He quickly binds her limbs, undoes the strap to her cannon, and pops the seal on her helmet, revealing... a goddamn unicorn!?

Jerry resists making a comment of surprise at the horse shaped face covered with brightly colored fur with a horn in the middle of her forehead. Almost as strange as the unicorn itself being a unicorn were the oddly feminine features, to include plush, bee stung lips. Jerry sets aside pondering the mysteries of the universe and instead drops a hammer fist on the alien's temple, knocking the creature out clean.

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He's up and scanning in an instant pulling security with the rest of his team as the rest of the regular troops rush up to help.

Top Gurung leads a fire team down the hallway at a dead sprint and checks the boarding torpedo, rifles raised. Yet they don't fire. Top raises a hand to signal all clear before shouting.

"Clear!"

"Clear!" Jerry calls back.

"Finish securing those prisoners and move out!" Jerry orders tersely before calling out to the soldiers nearby, "You guys get these scumbags to somewhere secure! Contact control, I'm sure there's a plan."

Jerry himself is off at a run before the men have a chance to acknowledge the order.

"Anyone notice... hah... anything weird about the aliens?"

A voice that sounds like Johnny D. asks over the comm, panting slightly as they push hard down the corridors at full tilt to reach their objective.

"That they all seemed to be women you mean?" Asks another soldier.

"Yeah that, did we stumble into some sort of Amazon cult or something?"

"Cut the chatter people." Jerry cuts in, "I don't care what sex they are and neither should you. They're just the enemy. We came in peace, and they attacked us, that means they're either going to the brig or the morgue. We’ll figure things out later."

"Aye aye, sir."

Right as they round the corridor that leads them to the vestibule for docking port two, the comm net lights up.

"Control to Dagger, a few smaller ships have slipped the defenses. There's hackers in our system, and they're forcing the docking ports. You've got customers coming!"

"Dagger six, copy all. We'll be sure to roll out the welcome mat."

Jerry looks around and takes a quick head count.

"You heard the lady! Man the defenses and stand by! Any of you jokers got a grenade or two? Frags not flash bangs."

Johnny holds a hand up sheepishly. Lethal grenades theoretically were banned for use on the Dauntless itself.

"How's your arm Johnny?"

"Pretty good boss."

"Alright, I want you to pitch one of those frag grenades as deep as you can get it. I bet they're going to force both sides of the airlock open to get as many troops in here as possible, so send it deep, then send another one slightly more shallowly... don't leave em in the damn airlock or Cistern will have us all doing KP for months."

"You can count on me! I got this!"

The vestibule for each of the docking ports on the Dauntless had been designed for this eventuality. Three passages joined into each vestibule, leading to different parts of the ship. This was necessary for a lot of things, but it made for a vulnerability that couldn't be ignored. So each major docking port had well fortified fighting positions with thick armor to fight from behind if invaders forced the lock.

There should have been heavy weapons here as part of going to battle stations, but the absence of other troops and the machine guns they should have brought along suggested the gunner's mates had been held up somewhere.

"Looks like we're doing this without heavy weapons. Make sure you're all the way buttoned up in case we depressurize and you get spaced. Pick your shots, don't be shy about tossing a flash bang and keep an eye on our six in case they land boarding torpedoes!"

Automatically every commando present checks the magazine in their weapon, and they quickly switch partially filled magazines out for full ones.

A quick check of their seals and they're ready for whatever wants to come their way.

Ready just in time it seemed.

The orange hazard light over the airlock starts to flash, a klaxon sounding to signal the airlock was opening as the heavy duty door slides clear and Johnny D. steps out like he's stepping up to the plate to throw the opening pitch at a LA Dodgers game.

"Frag out!"

Jerry had never really considered tossing a frag grenade like a fast ball before, but Johnny certainly made it look easy, winding up and hurling first one, then another. The grenades go sailing through the airlock right as it opens up, followed immediately by a curse in a more guttural alien tongue than anything you'd hear in galactic trade before twin muffled explosions herald a chorus of cries of pain. A follow up explosion suggests the shrapnel from one of the frag grenades had caught something sensitive.

"Do you call yourselves pirates or not! Get the mech suits in there or I'll kill you myself!" Calls a distant voice on the far side of the airlock.

There's a rush as various pirates start to spill out of the airlock, firing blindly as the commandos return fire with precision shots, the vortex of fire that was the airlock proving to very much be lethal to people who didn't have an advantage in speed or the violence to overcome the violence being directed at them. At least. That's what they thought.

A howling sound heralds a massive ball of fire leaping through the door and hammering one of the fighting positions, the metal glowing red from the sheer amount of heat it was absorbing. The whine of mechanical actuators and heavy metal feet on deck plates heralding the arrival of the pirate's next wave.

Massive mechanoid constructs with black armored visors covering what appeared to be cockpits start to move through the airlock, firing as they come, sending the commandos back behind cover.

After the first volley of coherent light and plasma the commandos pop up and riddle the first mech suit with gun fire. Their rifle rounds tear up anything vulnerable on what appeared to be jury rigged construction equipment at a glance until a round skips up into something sensitive, sending the machine to its knees where it's bashed out of the way by the second machine in line. This one was far better put together and it seemed to resist the rifle fire that the commandos were directing it's way far more readily than the first.

"Sir! What do we do? We need heavy weapons or explosives to drop that thing."

Jerry drops his MDRX, shifting it to his side to dangle on its sling as he pulls out his heavy duty Field Pistol and checks the chamber on his beloved hand cannon.

"Going to try my hand cannon out first. The manufacturer says this ammo will crack level four plates, so let's see what alien armored glass is like!"

Jerry rolls out of cover, coming up in a kneeling position and firing a string of five shots into the center of the 'cockpit' on the mechanical monster that was filling the room with alien energy weapons fire.

Even if it wasn't the cockpit, it was hopefully the sensors or something similarly sensitive that would let them get the advantage over the pirates again.

Jerry throws himself off the 'x', getting clear of any weapons fire and ending up behind the left most defensive position with Isabella Ramos and more of his commandos.

"Fancy meeting you here sir."

"Oh you know me Ramos, I go to all the fashionable parties."

The sound of a resounding crash gets the whole team to pop their heads out cover, the second of what the pirate officer had called a mech suit had collapsed on top of the first.

Jerry's pistol snaps up and he donates another five rounds into the cockpit of the third mech suit, this one again appeared to be one of the more jury rigged models.

It drops like a marionette with its strings cut, its cockpit glass shattering on impact with the deck and spilling its pilot out onto the deck plates.

"Get in there damn you!" Echoes the pirate officer's voice again.

"You said this was an easy gig. This is a damn warship. We ain't gettin paid enough for this!"

"You ain't got a choice shit for brains!"

There's a sharp barking noise that Jerry's learned to associate with the fireball weapons, and a feminine shriek of pain.

"Looks like I'm Cap'n now. Let's get out of here girls! Get that damn airlock sealed before they board us!"

The pirate airlock slams shut, and Jerry's eyes widen as they start to disconnect. The Dauntless's airlocks were still wide open.

"Ramos! Get in there and get the emergency close for the airlock before we're all peddling vacuum!"

Isabella was the fastest member of the company at a dead sprint, and she throws everything into running now, vaulting the fighting position, jumping over fallen pirates left and right to sprint into the airlock and pull the heavy duty lever that mechanically forces the Dauntless's outer airlock door shut just in the nick of time, the air swirling around their feet for a second of depressurization before the airlock door fully locks into place and Isabella slumps against the wall.

"Fuck me running." She mutters, catching her breath before standing and starting to walk back into the Dauntless proper.

"Looks like Isabella's our big damn hero of the day people." Jerry says, standing and starting to check for casualties by eye.

"Speak for yourself sir." Isabella says, still clearly pleased with the praise. "You got in a gunfight with two bipedal tanks with a goddamn pistol and won!"

"Plenty of laurels to go around Isabella, but that was just having the right tool for the job."

"I'll say, that hand cannon's something else."

"Is everyone okay? Any casualties?"

On getting a thumbs up and an affirmative response from the entire unit Jerry nods.

"Right, let's get these pirates checked and marked for the morgue or trussed up for the masters at arms and corpsmen. I'm going higher to call it in."

Jerry switches channels up one to directly broadcast to Control without including the entire unit.

"Control, Dagger six."

"Go for Control."

"Reporting docking port two secured. No casualties. I got a load of dead or wounded bad guys who were calling themselves pirates down here. Requesting masters at arms and corpsmen asap. Any other business for us?"

"Looks like they're backing off Commander, the ship that tried to force docking port two ate a rail gun round on the way out, but they were moving as fast as that engine would carry them. The heck did you boys and girls do them?"

"Oh you know Control. We just followed standard first contact protocol, we shared our culture with the aliens. Seems they didn't like it very much."

"I just bet. Stand by. We’re sending down corpsmen for any surviving wounded and masters at arms to take charge of the area and any prisoners. The MAs will relieve you."

"Any casualties across the ship, Control?"

"No serious casualties somehow. Seems like everyone was just itching for a fight after we got past the period of zero g. However... we have a report that one of our boys in another part of the ship was taken."

"Do we know who?"

"Miles Brent."

"First squadron volunteers for the rescue."

"You and the entire rest of the special operations command. We're gonna get our boy back."

"Damn straight. Dagger six out."