Calanthus led two tactical squads directly to the hangar. They needed to board a Thunderhawk gunship for a low-orbit survey of the hull, identifying the exact point where the vessel was snagged before they could devise an action plan. If possible, Calanthus had no desire to set foot upon the surface of the space hulk.
Even so, the risk was immense. The Thunderhawk lacked Geller Field protection; once it detached from the cruiser's protective envelope, everyone aboard would be constantly exposed to the predations of the Warp. Furthermore, the churning tides of the Empyrean could easily sweep a lone gunship into the abyssal sea. If the mothership could not break free, no one would be coming to save them.
The hangar's armored shutters ground open. Calanthus sat in the co-pilot's seat, his transhuman eyes scrutinizing the state of the hull. The reality was grimmer than anticipated. The two ships were impaled upon one another like a macabre cross. The junction was too tight, leaving no gap for a Thunderhawk to fly in for a closer look.
Massive clouds of debris drifted through the void, scattered by the Warp tides. Some shards struck the outer hulls of the two ships like stray cannon shells. The Tech-Marine pilot had to veer sharply to evade jagged fragments of plating.
"Sir, we can't identify the specific snag from this distance," the Tech-Marine said, looking toward Calanthus with frustration.
"I know," Calanthus replied, his voice heavy as he prepared for the worst-case scenario. "Prepare for boarding."
Orbital observation had failed. Their only choice was to enter the space hulk itself.
Just as the two spoke, a massive plume of fire erupted from the junction. The Captain's voice crackled over the vox-link inside the Thunderhawk.
"I ordered a broadside from the mid-section turrets. We've shattered several brittle bulkheads. The ship suffered some vibration, but we are still immobile. Do you see any structural openings?"
As the flames dissipated, a gaping maw appeared in the side of the space hulk. Calanthus felt a surge of cold fury. Firing main batteries at this range? How did he dare! If a magazine had ignited, they would all be stardust.
Fortunately, the outcome wasn't disastrous. No secondary explosions occurred. Perhaps this vessel had spent its final reserves of ammunition and power long before becoming a hulk.
Perhaps, once this mission is over, I should send this captain to the Departmento Munitorum to face the consequences of his recklessness.
Beside him, the Tech-Marine pulled the control levers, guiding the Thunderhawk into the breach created by the blast. The interior of the massive hull was a chaotic graveyard. While the outer shell remained intact, countless shards of metal, recently shattered by the blast, ricocheted through the zero-gravity interior.
A colossal metal beam was wedged diagonally across the cruiser's upper dorsal armor. Its twisted shape bore testament to the terrifying force of the torpedo ram's initial impact.
"By the Emperor... that's the ship's metal keel," Calanthus marveled, staring through the cockpit canopy at the massive girder.
Its dimensions were nearly as wide as the cruiser itself. It was clear that the torpedo's detonation upon impact had punched through the hulk's outer hull, and the residual kinetic energy had buckled this primary structural spine. The cruiser, plunging headlong into the wreck, had become hopelessly snagged by the warped keel and the surrounding shattered decks.
To pull the cruiser free, that deformed keel had to be severed. Calanthus glanced at the obstruction. There was a desperate way.
The Thunderhawk hovered above the keel. To test its structural integrity, Calanthus signaled for a test shot with the gunship's battle cannon. A flash erupted from the Thunderhawk's dorsal mount as a shell screamed toward the massive beam.
The explosion was instantaneous. But as the shockwave dissipated and the dust cleared, the keel remained unmoved, save for a shallow dent. Its strength far exceeded the limits of their current weaponry.
However, melta-charge daisy chains might yield better results.
After a sweep with the Auspex revealed no hidden threats, Calanthus and his team successfully brought the Thunderhawk alongside the keel. In the weightless environment, they used the gunship as a platform, leaping one by one onto the metal beam, which was dozens of meters wide.
To sever this staggering piece of metal, Calanthus practically exhausted the Thunderhawk's entire reserve of melta charges. To ensure the breach, they used laser cutters, typically reserved for slicing through ceramite armor, to bore holes dozens of centimeters deep into the targeted blast points.
If successful, the explosion would snap the ancient warship's keel in two. If not, Calanthus already had a backup plan: return and demolish another third of the lower hull.
The space hulk seemed quiet for now, but Calanthus knew it was a lie. Something might have lived at the impact site, but the initial explosion would have turned it to atoms. The section they had just entered had been hammered by cruiser-grade batteries; the chance of anything surviving there was nil.
Yet, they were at the mid-forward section. No one knew what might be lurking in the hulk's prow on the other side. Calanthus wouldn't be surprised if a horde of Orks, Aeldari, or even a warband of Traitors came charging out.
The melta charges were set without incident. Calanthus didn't want to spend a second longer on the hulk than necessary. He immediately ordered his men back to the Thunderhawk.
Inside the gunship's cockpit, the neophytes seemed to regain their vigor.
"Sir, the space hulk isn't as dangerous as I imagined. We didn't encounter a single enemy. It seems to be a ghost ship."
Hearing their lack of vigilance, Calanthus sighed inwardly.
"Our cruiser punched a massive hole through the labyrinthine hull. This is the periphery. The foolish captain even bombarded the area with turrets. Naturally, there are no shadows left to hide in."
"But remember this: if you ever lead a squad into the heart of a Space Hulk, you must be supremely cautious. The internal complexity, haywire defense systems, and whatever xenos or warp-spawn dwell within will be your enemies. And in the cramped corridors of a ship, you will have nowhere to retreat."
Though the neophytes nodded, indicating they had noted the veteran's lesson, their body language suggested they hadn't truly taken it to heart. Calanthus could only reflect that perhaps a mission going too smoothly had its own drawbacks.