foot, but he wiggled free and was on his way to the pilot's seat. Until the lion forced its way after him and latched onto his other foot. He was grappled in place and the fire-hot breath of the unliving monster came near, one of the terrifying mockeries the voidforms made of true life. The heat was a signal the beast would bite off Hank's leg in a matter of moments.
A burst of bright yellow flashed through the cabin. Black smoke poured out everywhere and pieces of the lion's hind quarters shot about with explosive carnage. The beast never made any sign it was in pain. It continued its offense on Hank's legs. Then another burst of yellow flashed and more of the lion shredded apart. Nothing was left but a single claw wrapped around Hank's boot.
The young man's eyes were wide with terror. The heat from the tracer rounds was almost enough to match the monster's breath. And the autocannon rounds came dangerously close to his feet.
Aurora's laughs of maniacal delight were clear after she stopped firing the huge weapon. She dangled on the skid, with the massive autocannon pointed into the Talon. The smoke that poured out of the barrel failed to hide her wicked smile.
Hank kicked the severed claw from his ankle and worried for a moment that Aurora was overtaken by bloodlust and would fire at him. The cratered metal of the crawlspace near his feet was proof she wasn't reluctant to fire on his position.
"Let's hope none of the relays were hit." He felt safe enough to scramble to his pilot seat when Aurora climbed into the cabin and folded the autocannon to a locked position.
The warrior patted the empty scabbard on her hip. "Lost my sword." She glanced at the glowing clouds before she sat and buckled in for the final portion of the ride.
Hank heaved from terrified breaths for a full minute. Nothing eased his mind, not even the regular operations of shifting the Talon's rotors for a fast return to the fleet.
"That dance." Aurora came down from her own fit of heavy breathing. "Think it'll be anything like this trip?"
"Depends." Hank kept his eyes locked on the glowing specks of metal in the distance. "Are we going together?"
"Yes." Aurora smirked at her pilot. "If we're not put in the brig for losing our swords and damaging this Talon."
"It's one of the reserve birds. Chief probably won't inspect it for a week. We have enough of a buffer for the dance tomorrow night." Hank's smile spread across his face. "And the sword, just say your belt loop is broken and you had to leave it in your quarters, like I do."
"You have this all planned out." Aurora leaned her head back to rest. "Hope today taught you the joy of spontaneity."
"I could use a lot more chaos in my life." Hank monitored the automatic friend-or-foe transmissions as he maneuvered the Talon closer to the sparkling points of light in the distance.
A flying battlecruiser came into view at the edge of the fleet.
"There's the Potomac." Aurora huffed to show her growing calm. "The comfort of home. Let's destroy the dance floor tomorrow night." Her head snapped up in thought. "Why wait? Doing anything tonight?"
"I have a transport run to the Kokopelli in a few hours." Hank took the Talon in for the Potomac's starboard hangar. "But when I get back, I'd love to sneak into the hydroponics bay with you."
"A date in the garden?" Aurora simpered. "Sounds tame. Maybe we'll make it interesting."
"That's a challenge I'm looking forward to." Hank ignored the sting of his injured foot and piloted the shall craft toward the massive hangar. Duty would take over for a bit, but he looked forward to later in the evening, when the fun would truly begin.
SNEAK PREVIEW: DANCING BIRDS
Did you enjoy reading about Hank Huelly? Want to know what happened later in the day? He shows up in the serial novel, Long Volley, where he’s referred to by his last name. Here’s a snippet from Dancing Birds, the fifth chapter of Long Volley:
Bosler smashed his hand into the intercom button near his head and screamed for the microphone to pick him up against the last of the alarm buzzes. "Huelly, can you warn us ahead of time before you decide to do a stunt?"
"Sergeant. I mean, Defender, that wasn't me." Huelly remained irritated. "One of those fighter jets went off course. Flew right in my path. Almost knocked us out of the air with wake turbulence."
Bosler gulped. "That doesn't sound right." He looked to Sage, then past her, where distinctive shiny fighter jets were close by. "The Silver Angels are too good of pilots to make mistakes like that."
Sage saw the same fighter jets, but out the other cabin door, behind Bosler's head when she looked past him. "I've angered the tyrants by threatening change." She fought a spinning sensation. "They were using tracer rounds earlier in their practice. Are they going to use live rounds on us now?"
"That must've been a sighting test." Bosler held Sage's hand. "The fleet can see the tracer rounds. And they can see an explosion. They won't shoot us or blow us up."
"This is all incredibly comforting," Huelly said. "They still want us out of the sky." The Talon accelerated. "I'm getting us to the fleet. Whoah!" The shuttle banked hard to port as jets rushed by close enough to hear their screaming engines. "Looks like they're cutting us off."
Bosler peered at the autocannons mounted at the edge of the cabin. They were folded into safety positions and they had no ammunition loaded in their hollow magazines. "We can't fight back."
"I survived the Void by learning from my enemies." Sage stared at Bosler and then at the mic button. "Anything bright can be seen by the fleet. So Huelly, fire off every emergency flare you have!"
"Good plan, Champion." Huelly chuckled into his helmet mic.
Dozens of glowing balls shout out from the sides and front of Talon 33. They trailed off with thick, glowing tails of yellow and white. The heads of the flares shined brilliantly for everyone in the fleet to see. Nothing about it was a weapon display, but a full use of flares by a panicked aircraft.
Sage watched the flares fly away like little stars in every direction. In the distance, some of the Talons grew larger. "Why would Talons be joining this flight?"
Bosler strained his eyes to see detail. "They have their recovery lines deployed." He stared at the open cabins of the shuttles. "Huelly, I spot rifle teams preparing on those Talons."
Sage thought out loud. "Rifle muzzle flare can't be seen from far away, can it?"
Huelly groaned. "The Accipiters and Skuas are like a flying fence. Damn those jets! They're keeping us locked in place." Huelly piloted Talon 33 in an almost circular holding pattern, but had to slow down and shift the nacelles to a vertical hover position. "Those rifle teams are coming in to execute us."
"The recovery lines are on quick-release hinges." Bosler stared at the lines, where nothing was attached, not even soldiers. "There's something tricky about them."
"Yeah." Huelly's voice came over the speakers as usual, but he nodded in the cockpit. "Not like they can go above us for executioners to rappel in. They'd get shredded by the rotors."
"It's a dual attack." Sage perked up in realization. "They're going to fly above us with those cords out. But they aren't to deploy troops. They're to jam our rotors."
Bosler patted the pistol on his hip." And if that plan fails, they'll be close enough to use small arms.
Sage looked out the open cabin to the storm clouds below. Glowing swirls of red and orange greeted her from below while screaming jets raced by at eye level. "They want us to fall. So they're closing us off in every direction but down." She craned her neck around to see the back of Huelly's helmeted head. "We need to go down while we still have control!"
"Taking the only open path in the middle of a trap? I'd hardly call that having control." Huelly wobbled the Talon around like he wanted to escape sideways, then directed the aircraft into a steep dive. "But you have a point, Champion."
THANK YOU
Thank you for reading this ebook. If you enjoyed the read, please support the author by writing a review.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
S. R. Mulrune lives in California and has always
had a passion for writing. He currently has two novels in the works, Long Volley and Paladin 13, along with a swarm of tie-in short stories and flash fiction pieces. A former newspaper editor and reporter, Mulrune has enjoyed the transition to creative fiction writing. His other interests include gardening, gourmet cooking, and gaming.
You can read Mulrune's blog at:
mulrune.blogspot.com
If you would like to follow Mulrune:
twitter.com/mulrune
Storm Rush Page 3