Free Dead Worlds (Necrospace Book 2) by Sean-Michael Argo Page A

streaked through the fetid air, some to strike flesh and armor while others splattered against walls and plating. The muzzle flares of the Reapers and cor-sec troopers added their sharp illumination to the tableau before him, and Samuel could not help but briefly be in awe of it. It reminded him of the Founding ceremony, when he first shipped out as a Reaper.
    Typically Grotto culture was not one of mirth or celebration, though society did take a fierce, even if dour, pride in the launching of a new venture. The fireworks of his departure had looked much like this as they exploded over the smog-choked skyline of the city while his transport ship had risen into high orbit to rendezvous with the tug itself.
    “Squad Ulanti sending! We need back up on Pylon 4!” screeched the static-filled voice of Boss Ulanti.
    “Welding team took eighty percent casualties. Without another welder I need six minutes to get this beam cut. Get me welders or shooters ASAFP! ”
    Six minutes, thought Samuel to himself as he and the rest of the Grotto soldiers retreated to the next set of barricades, this fight was going to be over long before that if the stalkers continued to press them this hard. The slime guns were chewing through the portable flak boards at a rate of a plate for every two impacts, and after the hard march through downspire, Tango Platoon didn’t have very many left as it was.
    Command kept reinforcing their company with fresh cor-sec recruits from the surface, each batch more ill-equipped and poorly trained than the one before it.
    Virginia had begun to openly suspect that Grotto was intentionally hurling bodies into the downspire meat grinder as a way of avoiding the cost of caring for the tremendous refugee population. As for marine reinforcements, all of the two dozen Reaper platoons aboard the Baen 6 tug were deployed in quadrants all across downspire.
    It was likely, thought Samuel, as he continued to fire, that each Reaper element was facing its own sort of bloody subterranean ordeal. These last months had been hard on everyone. However, as dangerous as the rest of the Reaper missions no doubt were, nothing was a harder target than the Basin. Naturally Tango Platoon was right in the thick of it.
    Everyone knew that Pylon 4 was going to be the beast, as it was the primary support for the downspire quadrant above, which supported the massive Forge Prime complex upspire. Boss Ulanti had started the demolition prep with ten welders from the Reaper support crew, who worked the salvage operations with the actual soldiers once the combat danger was neutralized. None of the support crew had the kind of training the Reapers did, but they were numerous and a lot of hands could get a lot done, as Samuel had learned during the scrapping of the space hulk.
    “Squad Marsters sending. Launching counter-assault on suspected point of entry for Stalker forces,” came the crisp no-nonsense voice of Boss Wynn Marsters, “Sek volunteered and is en route alone from Pylon 2, needs Squad Aiken shooters if available. No additional resources at this time.”
    As the radio buzzed with chatter, Squad Aiken and the cor-sec troopers dug in behind the corroded remnants of their flak boards. Ben Takeda took point and opened up with his heavy machine gun while the rest took firing positions around the pylon, literally placing their bodies between the busy welding crew and the threatening darkness. Samuel knew it would buy them some time, and hopefully whatever that time was, would be enough for the welder crews to cut all four of the pylons. Once they were cut the sheer pressure of the tonnage being applied to them by the spire levels above would hold them in place, but they would be permanently severed.
    After the cuts were complete the Reapers would affix several bombs, each contained in an armored case to prevent tampering from any possible enemies or curious scavengers. Once they were safely back in upspire the demolition crews would detonate and