The impact threw me against the bulkhead.
The Vengeance didn't dock; it rammed the lower maintenance platform of the rig. Metal screamed against metal, sending a shudder through the hull that rattled my teeth.
"GO! GO! GO!" Don Ricci roared, kicking the watertight door open.
He charged out into the storm first, wielding an automatic shotgun like a Viking axe. His men—ten heavily armed enforcers—poured out behind him, screaming battle cries that were swallowed by the wind.
I stumbled out onto the slick metal grating of the rig. The rain was torrential, stinging like needles. Above us, the rig loomed like a beast, its orange lights glowing through the mist.
Gunfire erupted instantly from the catwalks above.
"Suppression!" Cassian yelled, firing his rifle upward to force the mercenaries back.
"The fuel tanks!" I shouted, pointing to the massive white cylinders on the mid-deck.
