"TAKE COVER!" Bob yelled, jumping behind the corner.
The sound of thousands of rounds ripped through the corridors, drowning out everything else. It didn't matter where the pirates were; everyone on the wreck heard that another brutal battle had begun. The "Zombies," for that was the only way to name these macabre constructs, began to advance. Their Gatling guns spat fire without a break, crushing the metal walls piece by piece—the walls that gave the pirates an illusion of cover. The rounds tore through the ship's armor, turning it into a shower of jagged shrapnel, and their ranks showed no sign of depletion.
"Grenades!" Babi yelled. Without even exposing themselves, the pirates threw grenades against the walls, which ricocheted and landed right at the feet of the undead.
An explosion shook the nearby foundations. The pirates, following orders, immediately darted out of cover and began shooting directly into the dense cloud of dust and smoke that arose after the blast. Their plasma rifles spat blinding light, creating momentary tunnels in the hazy air, briefly illuminating the dark corridor.
From the other side, from the heart of that suffocating cloud, more rounds began to fly, slamming into their armor. Each hit caused small dents in the metal or chipped off small pieces of armor.
Both sides exchanged fire. The continuous engagement resulted in pirates in the vicinity starting to follow the sounds of battle, rushing to help their comrades.
Charging into another corridor, Trek and Tosh and their men also encountered another group of these strange zombies. "FIRE!" Trek yelled, activating his power sword and charging with Tosh toward their enemies. With one powerful swing of his axe, Tosh cleaved through several zombies at once and rushed forward. The pirates following him delivered one or two shots to any zombies that were still "alive" to ensure they wouldn't move again.
Trek, thanks to the hard lessons with the Captain, moved as fluidly as a river. He sliced through the enemy, simultaneously deflecting rounds with his sword so that they hit the blade and not him. Only to execute a spin, cut down another enemy, and so on. He went through like a storm, leaving a trail of corpses behind him.
But no matter how many they killed, there was no end to them. Other pirate squads also began to encounter the enemies. The fighting was relatively easy for all the squads, but the sheer number of these creatures, or now machines, was immense.
Slowly but surely, they were punching deep into the ship. More pirates continued to join the fight. After an hour of fighting, one of the groups reached the bridge, which they secured after a brief fight. The wreck's technology seemed quite old, in the worst sense of the word.
The technicians involved in the operation took over the bridge and started their magic, connecting to the systems and trying to power up the wreck.
"How long will it take you?" asked Quks, one of the commanders armed with standard armor, two small axes, and four more pistols strapped to his belt.
"Everything here is rusted and destroyed!" a technician complained. "Leave us a few men for defense and go if you're in a hurry, because I can tell you it won't be quick."
"The ten of you stay; the rest follow me." After giving the orders, Quks took the rest of his men and rushed into the dark corridors, hoping to finish as quickly as possible.
It looked like the pirates were winning on every front, but was that really the case? Their forces were becoming more and more stretched with every passing moment. With every junction, their strength was shrinking; their powerful wave was starting to resemble a few delicate ripples. While more pirates were joining from the Arcadia with every passing minute, it was still not enough to provide personnel for all the squads.
Trek and Tosh were destroying a massive gate that might lead further inside. They found it at the end of one of the corridors. In the distance, the sounds of fighting could still be heard, but all reports indicated that, despite the prolonged battles, everyone fighting the same enemy was winning. So they focused on destroying the gate.
"How much longer will this take?!" Trek asked, irritated, watching the pirates set explosive charges.
"They're almost done. Why are you so nervous?" Tosh asked, leaning against the wall.
"Something's not right here," Trek said honestly, considering the first report.
"Are you going to share your thoughts, or should I guess?!"
"The first report said the squad was likely eaten, but these skeletons don't even have a reason to eat bodies. Something else must be lurking here."
"Are you suggesting that besides these skeletons, there's something else here?"
"That's what I said. Don't tell me you believe those corpses actually did it?"
Tosh moved a few meters away, seeing the pirates finish placing the charges. "I believe something's wrong with this ship, so I want to finish my part and get the lads out of here."
A powerful explosion shook the area, its roar echoing through the corridors. Without waiting a moment, the pirates rushed inside, practically tumbling into a spacious room. Their flashlights immediately pierced the darkness that had previously reigned, revealing a vast hall.
It was an impressively large interior, with high balconies running along the walls, giving it an arena-like appearance. This impression would have been stronger had it not been for the gigantic racks stretching as far as the eye could see, filled to the brim with countless objects.
These must have been the ship's main magazines, a repository of supplies and equipment. The air was heavy, saturated with the smell of old metal and dust.
The pirates nearly froze. This was no ordinary warehouse, and their flashlights immediately illuminated a nightmarish sight. The racks, dozens of meters high, which should have been filled with supplies, were groaning under the weight of a macabre collection.
On every shelf, tightly packed next to each other, lay piles of human corpses—some fresh, with blood not yet congealed, others already heavily decayed, blackened. There were partially skinned torsos, with visible layers of muscle and sinew, severed heads with empty eye sockets staring into space, and dismembered limbs, arranged in grotesque stacks. Here and there, on special metal hooks, hung entire chains of human internal organs: intestines, hearts, lungs, dried like meat.
A faint, sweet stench of decomposition hung in the air, so intense it choked the throat, mixing with the scent of ozone and something resembling burnt tissue. Dark, dried stains that could only be blood coated the metal floor beneath the racks. This place was a chapel of slaughter, a monument to madness, where death had been elevated to an art form. The silence in this macabre space was heavier than anywhere else, broken only by the nervous breathing of the pirates. Whatever created this sight could still be lurking in the darkness, pleased with its sick collection.
The silence in the magazine, saturated with the smell of decay, was suddenly broken. From the dark corridor at the far end of the gigantic hall came a grinding sound, like thousands of bones clattering together, immediately followed by heavy, sluggish footsteps that shook the metal floor. The pirates' flashlights, nervously aimed toward the sound, pulled a silhouette from the gloom that rose above the racks, monstrous and obscene.
The thing that entered the magazine was a living nightmare. Its half-naked, bloated body was corrugated with thick layers of fat and swollen, diseased, bluish-white flesh. Everywhere on its torso and arms protruded rusted nails and hooks, giving it the look of a brutally stitched beast. In place of one arm, it wielded a giant, semicircular blade, resembling a circular saw blade but bent and jagged, dripping with something dark and thick. In its other claw, it clutched a heavy butcher's cleaver, ragged and running with blood, with a chain ending in a spike attached to the handle.
Its face was a grotesque mask, with a small, furious eye deeply set in the wrinkled tissue and large, yellow teeth protruding from its clenched jaw. A rattling, gurgling breath emanated from its mouth, and every movement of its massive bulk broadcast a faint, sweet stench of fresh and rotting slaughter that immediately filled the entire room, turning the pirates' stomachs.
The creature looked at the pirates illuminating its massive body and smiled obscenely. "Grandpa Nurgle will be pleased with this new offering."