Sweeping a cold derelict is never fun. In fact, it is boring as fuck, but necessary. She glanced at her HUD. Despite their overall inexperience, her Marines are performing exceptionally well, clearing rooms, holds, compartments, and passageways on such a large vessel. It is a time-consuming task.

Compounded by the damage this ship suffered, the sweeping operation is taking far longer than expected. Gunny notices her Marines, guided by the Nyasaland’s battle AI Asterius with the help of the drones, cutting through several blocked areas. The extra plasma torches creatively acquired by SSgt. Metz and Pfc. Flaithrí are proving their worth. 

She concurs with her armor’s AI, which suggests a high probability that they are breaching hastily constructed barricades. “Metz,” she called on their private channel, thankful for the drone's communications boost.

“Yeah, Gunny.”

“My armor’s AI Krista and the Nyasaland’s AI Asterius suggest a very high probability that we are cutting through barricades. Have you noticed the same?”

"Yeah, we have. Aetius, my armor’s AI, has mentioned it several times. Gunny, we've found barricades and several airtight doors welded shut in multiple locations."

"Same here."

"The drones marked the barricades, doors, and other obstacles we had to cut through."

"All indications of prolonged fighting. With this information the AIs might piece together what happened on this thing."

"Agreed. We've even found some corpsesicles " 

“Metz, are you stating that you have found people cryogenically frozen hoping future miracle medical advancements will revive them at death’s door?”

"Hildie, even without the wars destroying many ancient cryo storage vaults, the Revered Ancients' cryo systems would have prevented the revival of the ancient dead," stated AI Krista.

"Noted Krista."

“No, Gunny. I meant dead, frozen corpses some were armed with crude chemical-powered weapons. They look like shit. Unless you're a god, there's no resurrecting these poor fucks.”

“Death is a come as you are affair, Metz. Few people get to freshen up or change into nice clothes before death.”

"Ancient chemical-powered polymer-cased projectile weapons appear to have killed most of the dead. But we've seen some evidence of blades used as well."

Damn. What the fuck happened on this thing, she muttered to herself. She opened the comm channel again. “Metz, make sure those corpses are marked for the squids. They may want to retrieve them unless Captain Menéndez declare this a tomb because of how many dead the drones are finding.”

“Copy, Gunny. Asterius already marked the corpses,” SSgt. Metz replied, trying not to roll his eyes at the new gunny’s micromanaging orders. “I will make sure the information is flagged for the SAR crews.”

After looking over the information, she reopened the channel. “Metz, it appears as if most of the fighting on this ship was in the middle and heading aft towards the engine rooms. We have not had to cut as many holes the farther forward we get.”

“I concur Gunny, and AI Asterius agrees. The AIs concur that the middle of this ship is all blown to hell. It does appears as if most of the fighting was done in the middle and aft sections of this ship. I wonder what they were fighting over?”

“We may never know Metz.” She hears a beeping noise and sees an update. "Metz, an engineering R&A team, plans to cut their way into the engineering spaces. Be prepared to get the fuck out of there in the most expeditious manner you can."

"Copy, Gunny."

"Cut or blow more holes in this piece of space shit if you have to, but get my Marines out of there. With our luck, the squids will trip those wonky reactors and blow us all to hell.”

"Copy, Gunny." He paused for a moment. "We are moving towards the outer compartments."

"Be careful Metz."

"Gotcha. The drones’ swarm AI requested we cut several holes to facilitate their search of the wreck anyway. The ventilation system is in terrible shape; most of it was hacked apart."

"No surprise there considering what happened."

"Consequently, the drones are having mixed results using the ducting.”

“Got it, Metz. Make sure that data gets sent to the squid’s R&A and SAR teams, so they know what a mess they are going to be crawling into.”

“Gunny, it’s a shame we couldn’t grab a platoon of Recon Fleet Marines,” SSgt. Metz said.

“Metz, FltMarCom was not about to assign any Special Forces to this inconsequential mission.”

“Did anybody call the Colonial Fleet Marines?”

 “Not that I am aware of. It would have taken far longer than we had for the Colonials to respond to a request.”

She also briefly considers the likely infighting that would have resulted from mixed platoons of Colonial and Mars Fleet Marines.

“Yeah. I suppose the Colonials would have taken too long to get off their ass. We couldn’t even grab some recon or assault drones before we left.”

She takes a moment and looks over her platoon’s status. "We might have used some recon drones."

"At least this isn't another bug hunt. I bet if it was we would've been issued drones."

"It is human arrogance, Hildie, to believe he is alone in the galaxy," AI Krista said. "Humanity's solitary existence in the cosmos presents both opportunities and challenges."

"I remember the great filter and Fermi paradox, Krista," she said.

"With so many star systems and planets, the chance of sapient life is high," Krista said.

She sees an update come in from the micro drones. "I am not sure, Metz, if those large, armored, and weaponized semi-autonomous assault drones would be useful in this jumbled mess."

"Yeah, what a mess."

"My Marines are encountering problems passing through various passageways and doors."

“So are mine, Gunny. This damned thing wasn’t built for Marines in heavy power armor. But you’re right …”

“Of course I am,” she said, cutting him off.

“Yeah, whatever. A three-meter-tall, 20-ton assault drone would have more issues than we do fitting in these passageways.” 

“Metz, the Colonial Fleet Marines in their heavier armor would have issues squeezing through the passages.” 

“Can you imagine a Colonial Fleet Marine Myrmidon trying to squeeze through these passageways?”

“No way a Myrmie is going to fit in there,” she said, looking over the derelict’s wire-framed holographic map.

“I don’t think we’ll need the drones’ quad 50mm eight-barreled auto-cannons anyway. Gunny, I doubt the dead are going to shoot at us.”

“Let us hope not. Shit has gone really pear-shaped if we run into armed space zombies. Despite the movies I doubt space zombies exist.” 

“For some reason, Gunny, those old movies never show just how tight and confined the interior of a spaceship really is.”

“So it is a good thing, Metz, that you thought of the plasma torches and micro drones. Good job. Keep me informed.”

It’s fortunate that SSgt. Metz has just completed his assignment as a boot camp drill sergeant. She acknowledges she is a bit out of practice. After sitting behind a desk for several years and then deploying without undergoing the mandatory refamiliarization course, it has become clear to her just how much she has let her skills lapse. She mentally kicks herself again for not considering the microdrones. 

The microdrones have an exceptionally basic swarm AI controlling them through AI Asterius on the Nyasaland, but they make clearing this huge wreck a lot faster than her too few Marines could do alone.

The drones boost their comms, even through all this radiation, so everyone stays in contact. The drones are small enough to slip through some of the blocked and damaged, twisted passageways. Another plus is that the drones are much faster than her heavily armored Marines.

The previous courier ship-sized drones, both from the AI survey ship that plotted this star system, and the ones sent by the Martian Congress and Senate, failed to get an accurate scan of this wreck. 

She wonders why none of the previous drones scanned the derelict’s port side, where the huge gash faces the gas giant. She wonders if the astro-mapping drone’s simple AI evaluated the super-Jovian gas giant’s considerable radiation and gravity as too hazardous for a closer approach.

With her Marines and the drones, they are quickly getting a well-defined and accurate interior map, so at least the squids will not come in totally blind. AI Asterius alerts her that a drone has found something significant that might be of interest.

“Jep, with me. If you shoot me in the ass, Private, I will find the most horrid job the space squids have and put you on it for the foreseeable future. I understand that the scullery is always seeking volunteers.”

“Staff Sergeant Metz told you about my boot camp mistake? Damn! I won’t make that mistake again, Gunny.”

“See that you do not. Stay on my six, Jep.”

“Copy, Gunny right behind you.”