ve established a beachhead, Craton. Repeat, beachhead established."

When they'd cut through the hull and boarded, they'd encountered minimal resistance. Venting the compartment was a pretty normal side effect from the boarding; you could do it quick or neat, but not both.

Which hadn't been good for the pirates in the area. Two Greggan bodies lay on the deck, their eyes bloodshot from the loss of atmosphere.

Their drones had flooded in first, attacking the real threat; the enemy defensive drones.

The pirates did not have the best; most were cobbled together, more offensive than defensive, the kind of thing that could be dumped en masse into a ship they were attacking.

Against the Craton's drones they hadn't stood a chance.

The bulkheads were pock-marked from the battle, and shattered pieces of drone covered the deck. Pirra had to sweep them out of the way with her feet as she walked.

"We're detecting movement ahead," Kiseleva said.

"That'll be the counter-attack," she replied. "Positions. Time to defend the advance. As soon as they break, we move for engineering."

She only had six; they had yet to link up with the second half of the squad, and so they'd just have to make do.

Makeshift barriers were erected; the honeycombed metal wasn't perfect proof against small-arms, but it was better than nothing.

She took her position, three facing left and three right. They did not know which way the pirates might come from.

"Contact!" she yelled as a door burst open. Air rushed in an explosive burst, carrying with it a hint of a battle-cry. The Greggan pirates staggered out, firing rapidly, their weapons large-bore and dangerous.

But they did not have nearly as much in their defense. Few Guardian drones and light armor.

Pirra's rifle kicked against her shoulder, the sound carrying through her body to her ears, firing bursts that punched through their suits and armor, sending mists of pale blood into the air.

A shot hit her shoulder, throwing her aim and staggering her back, but didn't break plate. Her system screamed about fractures in her shoulder, and it hurt like hell. Her suit shot her full of a painkiller before the momentum from the hit even finished knocking her back, and the pain began to die down as quick as it had started.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

She'd get it patched later. She fired again, her aim a little wobbly, but at close range it hardly mattered.

The Greggan counter-attack broke; they did not flee, but seemed to become confused, some trying to seek cover, others trying to rush the barricades.

Neither party met with success.

"Hold fire!" Pirra called out. The last of the Greggans had gone down, a dozen holes punched through him.

There was no sound in the vacuum, but she could still feel vibrations through the floor. There was a stillness now that seemed to indicate no one else approaching.

"Team two, status?" she called over the radio.

"We've fought off a handful of attackers. Threw themselves at us," Sgt. Hesson answered. "We're ready to move to your position."

The drone patrols between their breaching points indicated the path was clear. "Move out," she ordered.

"Response Two," she called up. "Status?"

"We've linked up," their commander called. "Ready to move out."

"Team three?"

"We are down to half-strength since one of the pods was hit," the reply came. "We are willing to move out on our own to capture the armory."

"Negative," Pirra said. "Meet up with Team Two, reinforce their push into the engine room. We do not want them even attempting a jump into zerospace."

"Understood. Moving to meet with Team Two."

Team three's original objective could wait. It was riskier for them to let the pirates continue to be able to access their armory, but they didn't have solid enough intel on its location; long-distance scans could only tell you so much about the inside of a ship and it was mostly a guess.

"Team One," she called over the radio to the rest of her unit. "As soon as the other half of the squad arrives, we move."

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

"Two more missile launchers have launched," Jaya said.

Explosions bloomed all across the view of the asteroid; some the destruction of launcher sites or impacts from the Craton's own missiles, others the missiles that the asteroid station continued to produce and launch at seemingly random points.

Perhaps some were being just chucked out of airlocks, Brooks mused.

The Craton had moved very close to the asteroid; only five hundred kilometers out, the defenses had to react to each new attack swiftly. So far, nothing had gotten through, and even if they did - most of this ordinance lacked enough energy to cause much damage.

But he was more worried that they might start targeting the pirate flagship. So far they hadn't, and he had put the Craton between the two, but that could change.

"We cannot pinpoint the launch point," Jaya said. "Launching cluster missile barrages - we'll take it out."

"Are we still broadcasting for their surrender?" Brooks asked.

"Aye, Captain," Eboh said. "No response."

"We've given them plenty of chances, and I think they're going to keep finding ways to throw missiles or something at us," Brooks said.

"We have confirmed incidents of individuals with small arms coming out of airlocks and firing at the ship," Jaya said dryly. "I do not think they are inclined to surrender."

"Charge the coilguns. Put a shot through the asteroid. I want it to come out the other side."

"Why through, Captain? It will not efficiently carry its energy into the target." Cenz asked.

"No. But it will send a message," Brooks replied.

Jaya called out. "Coilguns are charged."

"Fire," Brooks said.

It was a heavy charge; the recoil of the firing could be felt, but the effect was tremendous.

The shot pierced straight through the asteroid and out the other side; it carried on briefly, glowing with heat before fading into the blackness of space.

"Broadcast a new message," Brooks ordered. "Tell them that we will break their asteroid apart with our next barrage."

Eboh stared at Brooks for a moment before nodding and turning back.

Less than a minute passed before a return signal came.

"Captain," Eboh said. "They are offering their surrender."

"Tell them that if any more attacks are launched, we will proceed," Brooks told him.

"They promise there will be no more," Eboh continued. "From the gunfire I'm hearing, it seems they are enforcing this promise."

Brooks nodded, and messaged Urle.

"We've got the station's fire under control. Take the second wave on over to the flagship. And Urle . . . ?"

"Yes, Captain?" Urle called back.

"Make sure Apollonia stays safe," Brooks told him.

"I will," his friend promised.