The colonel stood. “This is the moment when the Legion holds the line. Can I rely upon you, Sergeant?”
Osu saluted. “To the ends of the galaxy, sir. No matter what.”
* * * * *
Get “The Fall of Rho-Torkis” now at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08VRL8H27.
Find out more about Tim C. Taylor and “The Fall of Rho-Torkis” at: https://chriskennedypublishing.com.
* * * * *
The following is an
Excerpt from Book One of Murphy’s Lawless:
Shakes
___________________
Mike Massa
Now Available from Beyond Terra Press
eBook and Paperback
Excerpt from “Shakes:”
Harry shook his head and yawned, then looked at the instruments. Crap, they were very nearly on the surface! There was no time to be surprised; he needed to work the problem. The shortness of the landing checklist didn’t make his situation any less dire.
“Ten seconds!” Volo said, unnecessarily warning both Terrans. “Prepare for manual deployment.”
If Marco Rodriguez was anything like Harry, he was watching the altimeter with growing apprehension. An impatient SpinDog technician had carefully repeated the instructions to an audience he doubtless regarded as incapable of using tools more sophisticated than rocks and sharp sticks. In theory, each craft would use a flicker laser to sense the minimum height-over-ground required for deployment of the chute to guarantee a safe landing. If he didn’t feel the automated systems deploy the capsule’s drogue and parachute combination, he’d have less than two seconds to mechanically initiate that critical step. Harry placed both hands on the pebbly surface of the L-shaped lever and took a deep breath. He watched his displays intently, counting down internally.
In three, two, o—
He was interrupted by the audible pop of the drogue ribbon launching over his head. One of his screens flashed the corresponding message, as the drogue gave his capsule a single, hard jerk, pressing him heavily into his couch. After dramatically slowing the freefall to a speed the twin parachutes could withstand, the drogue detached. A second, mushier jerk announced the canopies’ successful opening.
The capsule had barely steadied underneath the green and brown parachutes before the capsule crashed to a painful stop. The scant padding on the seat might have prevented any serious injury, but Harry still ached all over. But like the pain caused by a misaligned crotch strap during a regular jump, this was a good sort of pain to have. The parachute had worked, and the capsule was down. The cone-shaped vehicle came to rest on its side, however. Getting out was going to require a bit of scrambling.
“Four, Five, this is Six,” he said, trusting the hands-free microphone on his helmet while hanging sideways in his straps. “Sound off.”
“Five on the ground. Mind the first step, it’s a doozy,” Rodriguez said jauntily.
“I’ve opened the hatch already, Lieutenant,” Volo answered. “It’s daylight, and we must cover the ships immediately.”
“Copy,” Harry said, releasing his chest strap. He fell heavily against one of the instrument panels, painfully bruising his arm. He suppressed a heartfelt curse.
“Popping the hatch.”
He reached for the door lever, now inconveniently located over his head. After a pause, the capsule verified his intent, requiring a second yank before it obediently ejected the hatch outward with a percussive bang. Instantly, a cold wind filled his capsule, making him shiver. He poked his head outside and surveyed a bleak and rocky landscape which was partially obscured by the capsule’s billowing parachute.
After donning a hooded parka from a storage cabinet underneath his feet, he withdrew his personal equipment and weapon. Then, with an athleticism he didn’t feel, Harry used an inner handhold to swing outside. On either side of his aeroshell, the terrain rose several meters in elevation, forming a shallow canyon. His ‘chute was tangled in some stunted gray-green trees that bordered the drop zone. Knee high, rust-colored spiky grass poked up in between the fist-sized stones covering much of the ground. The breeze smelled wet and musty, but the ground appeared dry. A football field distant, Harry could make out another capsule, and began trotting over. It was supposed to be dusk on R’Bak, but the overcast diffused the light. Out of reflex, he checked his wristwatch, which rode alongside a new gadget doubling as a short-range radio and compass. Both were still set to SpinDog station time, adopted during the mission prep. He supposed he could check with Volo. It didn’t matter yet. Experience had taught the SEAL exactly what time it was.
The local hour is half past “your ass is in a sling.” My team is untested and outnumbered, the local population is mostly hostile, the wildlife carnivorous, and, in two years, the local star is going to approach its binary twin, boiling the oceans and scorching the land. Oh, and your extract off-planet depends entirely on mission success, so don’t screw up.
Welcome to R’Bak.
* * * * *
Get “Shakes” now at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0861F23KH.
Find out more about “Murphy’s Lawless” at: https://chriskennedypublishing.com.
* * * * *
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