"No readings?" asked Reclusiarch Ritten.

"No," replied Squire Brother Taris, "not even a transponder signal, sir,"

"It must be all this space junk; bring us in for a closer look."

Tech-Sergeant Chen banked the Storm Raven The Falcon's Flame around the perimeter Voidspan Point Station. The twenty five Space Marines in the hold leaned in unison to compensate for the craft's manuever.

"There, Whiskey platform," pointed Ritten, indicating a landing platform on the far edge of the station, "Bring us in, Sergeant." Ritten turned towards Blood Priest Pythol.

"Prepare the men," he ordered the Priest and then turned toward Knight-Sergeant Razak.

"Knight-Sergeant, keep your men on the sunward side. Watch our backs," Ritten directed as Pythol stepped down from the flight deck.

"You heard the Chaplain, saddle up!," barked Pythol, "3rd Squad, 4th Squad: you're with me."

Chen brought the Storm Raven down to the landing pad, hoving with the landing jets, main turbines spooled. Two full squads of Assault Marines disembarked from the side hatches; the rear boarding ramp blocked by a massive metal form.

Knight-Sergent Razak and his veterans strode down the front assault ramp and activated their jump packs, ascending to a watch position over the sunward side of Voidspan Point Station. They were in position as the last of the Assault squads formed up on the landing pad.

Ritten was the last to emerge and he turned towards the hulking form grapled to the ships rear cargo point before joining 3rd squad and Blood Priest Pythol. The Storm Raven lifted off from the platform behind him.

"This place stinks," said Brother Stack as he brushed his gauntlet through a stream of ooze trailing down a bulkhead. The ooze bubbled spread towards his writes as he turned his gauntlet towards his helm to examine it closer.

"It's infested," he declared as Brother Flores shot a short blast from his hand flamer, turning the roiling green goo into lifeless black charcoal.

"Thank you, Brother."

"4th Squad, secure this landing pad. 3rd Squad, Honored Priest: let's find the source of the distress signal and eliminate the infestation," ordered Ritten.

"Great, a mop up-mission," griped Stack as he turned to follow Ritten up a ramp while 4th squad took up defensive positions on the pad below.

"Sir, there!"

Stack was pointing towards an upper central landing platform. Behind the defense walls: zombies. Former Guardsmen, distored fleshy blobs, mingled aimlessly, not noticing the squad below.

"Warm it up! Everything you've got, Firehawks," clicked Ritten over the vox and he light his jump pack, heading towards the landing pad.

"Fire of the Emperor's Might!" yelled Pythol as he and the rest of the squad engaged their jump packs to follow.

***

Chen brought the Storm Raven up to an observation orbit of the station, outside of the ring of debris in the stations orbit. All of the fighting over Voidspan Point had cluttered its airspace with shredded decking, broken bulkheads and chunks of rock. As he confirmed the position of Razak's veterans, he clicked on the vox to the grapling line.

"You still buckled up back there, Ace?"

"Affirmative" replied Honored Castellan Masaccio flatly; the dreadnought was the opposite of Chen's lively tone.

"What, did Ritten think I needed a babysitter?"

"Affirmative."

Chen scoffed and brought the Raven to a hold and checked the long-range scanners. Nothing. Ritten's team on the net was intermittent, but it was clear they were slowly making their way thought the station, 4th squad still on the landing pad in a standard defensive arrangement.

"Must be all the junk creating interference," commented Chen to himself.

Chen started to whistle, pausing for static on the vox, but after a few seconds of silence he started again. He turned to the long range scanners again. Still nothing. He had just swung his boots up on the control panel and reclined in the flight chair when he noticed five bright lights as Razak's unit streamed towards the station.

"Razak, come in," he tried over the vox. Silence.

"Bring us down," intoned Masaccio and Chen sat back into the flight chair and tipped the craft into a dive towards Voidspan station. Ritten was off the net and static played over the vox as Chen slide through the debris, small rocks richoceting off the hull.

"… mayday, mayday! Chen, where are you?" It sounded like Taris.

"Chen here, I'm coming in. I though the station was clear?!"

"Negative, this place crawls!"

"What's your position?"

"We're on the eastward catwalk, we need retrieval now!"

"On the catwalk? Are you crazy?"

"I thought you were a crazy pilot? We need pick-up now!"

Chen engaged the afterburners and pushed The Falcon's Flame into a steeper dive.

"Crazy pilot, he says," muttered Chen over the vox as craft goaned under stress of the tight turn to line up along the catwalk.

"Affirmative," Masaccio confirmed.

Chen loosed the full compliment of missiles as a winged daemon flew across his flight path. The voidspawn was struck twice, but kept flying.

"… Ritten… down…", static played over the vox, "… repeat, Reclusiarch Ritt… down!"

"Did you hear that, Ace?" asked Chen as he brought The Falcon into a hover as he exploded a flying mechanical daemon with the forward lascannons and multi-melta.

"Affirmative. Grapples released."

"Oh, now you get chatty," said Chen as a metal sound rang through the hull signaling the Castellan's departure.

Chen powered up and brought the Storm Raven around. A quick check of net showed no blips, all squads were lost. Through the front viewport, Chen saw bodies everywhere, zombies and Firehawks alike. Daemons had overwhelmed the landing pads and two chaos champions and a winged daemon fought Castellan Masaccio and another dreadnought from the Dark Angels chapter.

Normally no match the the Castellan, the two fallen champions unable to find home against the mighty armored form. But the Castellan wasn't able to wound the traitors; he seemed to be fighting with just a single taloned arm. Chen saw why: the torn form of Reclusiarch Ritten, his junk pack cleaved in two and right leg missing, was laid over the other arm. Chen looped The Falcon's Flame around the landing pad and engaged the grappling system.

"Let's get out of here, Ace"

"Affirmative," he heard over the vox as the grapple scored a hit on the top rear of the Castellan's sacophagus. The grapple motors strained to reel in the dreadnought as Chen powered to full and left the station.

"Jeez, someone really humped the bunk," Chen remarked on the vox.

"Affirmative" came the reply from the rear grapples.