by Mia R Kleve
Harmon shrugged. “Okay, but I don’t see any lights; it has probably been dead for years.”
Clip took a sensor reader out of his kit, one of the many tools he had improved. He checked the cell and the device. There was a faint amount of power running to it that barely registered on his screen. There were several ports on the back along with the slot where the power cell was hooked in. He checked to make sure the connections were tight, he then carried the two devices to the hovercraft.
Clip then called Rinto’s personal comm from the communicator in the hovercraft. When Rinto answered, Clip looked at Harmon and winked. “Hey boss, we found some stuff worth a hovercraft full of credit…probably two. Can we have it?” he asked.
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Get “Salvage Title” now at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07H8Q3HBV.
Find out more about Kevin Steverson and “Salvage Title” at: https://chriskennedypublishing.com/imprints-authors/kevin-steverson/.
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The following is an
Excerpt from Book One of The Progenitors’ War:
A Gulf in Time
___________________
Chris Kennedy
Now Available from Theogony Books
eBook, Paperback, and (soon) Audio
Excerpt from “A Gulf in Time:”
“Thank you for calling us,” the figure on the front view screen said, his pupil-less eyes glowing bright yellow beneath his eight-inch horns. Generally humanoid, the creature was blood red and had a mouthful of pointed teeth that were visible when he smiled. Giant bat wings alternately spread and folded behind him; his pointed tail could be seen flicking back and forth when the wings were folded. “We accept your offer to be our slaves for now and all eternity.”
“Get us out of here, helm!” Captain Sheppard ordered. “Flank speed to the stargate!”
“Sorry, sir, my console is dead,” the helmsman replied.
“Can you jump us to the Jinn Universe?”
“No, sir, that’s dead too.”
“Engineer, do we have our shields?”
“No, sir, they’re down, and my console’s dead, too.”
“OSO? DSO? Status?”
“My console’s dead,” the Offensive Systems Officer replied.
“Mine, too,” the Defensive Systems Officer noted.
The figure on the view screen laughed. “I do so love the way new minions scamper about, trying to avoid the unavoidable.”
“There’s been a mistake,” Captain Sheppard said. “We didn’t intend to call you or become your minions.”
“It does not matter whether you intended to or not,” the creature said. “You passed the test and are obviously strong enough to function as our messengers.”
“What do you mean, ‘to function as your messengers?’”
“It is past time for this galaxy’s harvest. You will go to all the civilizations and prepare them for the cull.”
“I’m not sure I like the sound of that. What is this ‘cull?’”
“We require your life force in order to survive. Each civilization will be required to provide 98.2% of its life force. The remaining 1.8% will be used to reseed their planets.”
“And you expect us to take this message to all the civilized planets in this galaxy?”
“That is correct. Why else would we have left the stargates for you to use to travel between the stars?”
“What if a civilization doesn’t want to participate in this cull?”
“Then they will be obliterated. Most will choose to save 1.8% of their population, rather than none, especially once you make an example or two of the civilizations who refuse.”
“And if we refuse?”
“Then your society will be the first example.”
“I can’t make this kind of decision,” Captain Sheppard said, stalling. “I’ll have to discuss it with my superiors.”
“Unacceptable. You must give me an answer now. Kneel before us or perish; those are your choices.”
“I can’t,” Captain Sheppard said, his voice full of anguish.
“Who called us by completing the quest?” the creature asked. “That person must decide.”
“I pushed the button,” Lieutenant Commander Hobbs replied, “but I can’t commit my race to this any more than Captain Sheppard can.”
“That is all right,” the creature said. “Sometimes it is best to have an example from the start.” He looked off screen. “Destroy them.”
“Captain Sheppard, there are energy weapons warming up on the other ship,” Steropes said.
“DSO, now would be a good time for those shields…” Captain Sheppard said.
“I’m sorry, sir; my console is still dead.”
“They’re firing!” Steropes called.
The enemy ship fired, but the Vella Gulf’s shields snapped on, absorbing the volley.
“Nice job, DSO!” Captain Sheppard exclaimed.
“I didn’t do it, sir!” the DSO cried. “They just came on.”
“Well, if you didn’t do it, who did?” Captain Sheppard asked.
“I don’t know!” the DSO exclaimed. “All I know is we can’t take another volley like that, sir; the first round completely maxed out our shields. One more, and they’re going to fail!”
“I…activated…the shields,” Solomon, the ship’s artificial intelligence, said. The voice of the AI sounded strained. “Am fighting…intruder…” the AI’s voice fluctuated between male and female. “Losing…system…integrity…krelbet gelched.”
“Krelbet gelched?” the DSO asked.
“It means ‘systems failing’ in the language of the Eldive,” Steropes said.
“The enemy is firing again,” the DSO said. “We’re hit! Shields are down.”
“I’ve got hits down the length of the ship,” the duty engineer said. “We’re open to space in several places. We can’t take another round like that!”
“That was just the little that came through after the shields fell,” the DSO said. “We’re doomed if—missiles inbound! I’ve got over 100 missiles inbound, and I can’t do anything to stop them!” He switched to the public address system. “Numerous missiles inbound! All hands brace for shock! Five seconds! Three…two…one…”
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Get “A Gulf in Time” now at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0829FLV92.
Find out more about Chris Kennedy and “A Gulf in Time” at:
https://chriskennedypublishing.com/imprints-authors/chris-kennedy/.
* * * * *
The following is an
Excerpt from Devil Calls the Tune:
Devil Calls the Tune
___________________
Chris Maddox
Now Available from Theogony Books
eBook, Paperback, and (Soon) Audio
Excerpt from “Devil Calls the Tune:”
Kenyon shouted, “Flyer! Fast mover!”
Everyone grabbed their packs and started running. When McCarthy didn’t, Devlin grabbed him by his uniform shirt and yelled, “Come on!”
The little outcropping they had weathered under was part of a larger set of hills. Devlin and McCarthy made for a sheer cliff face that was tall enough that it would make strafing difficult. They dove behind a few rocks, and Devlin peered over one. The flier had overshot the group and was circling.
McCarthy reached into his pack and pulled out a rail pistol and magazine. He slapped the magazine home into its well and charged the pistol.
“Where the fark did you get that!” Devlin panted. He reached over and took the pistol. McCarthy let him.
“This was the surprise,” McCarthy said. “I found the pistol, then searched the wreckage for ammo. I found some and parts to a bunch of rifles. Most were in bad shape, but Pringle figured he might be able to cobble together a couple from the parts. He was going take the lot back to the camp so they would have something to defend the wounded with. He sent me with this for you. Best we could get together at the time. Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. This is pretty good. I won’t beat the shit out of you now for the fire.”
“The fire?” McCarthy looked blank for a moment, then realization hit. “Oh, you think that the fire attracted—”
“Our flying friend over there. Yeah, I just—get your head down!” He pulled at McCarthy as rounds from the flier dug into the earth. There was something odd about this one.
He took a quick look. This wasn’t the same flier that had attacked the camp, this one was…
“Drone!” Devlin yelled. He watched the thing from the rocks, watched it circle around again. He braced the pistol on the rocks, steadied, and waited.
When the drone started its run again, Devlin sighted in, breathed out, and fired.
The drone disintegrated in a fiery cloud as the railgun round entered its main capacitor bank. He watched it fall and then rose from behind the rocks. McCarthy joined him.
Devlin looked over at the tree line and waved his arm. A moment later, Kenyon appeared, followed by Gartlan and MacBain.
“Devlin!” Decker’s voice came out of the tree line. Kenyon and the others started to where Decker’s voice had come from. Devlin started to run.
He found the group gathered around Decker. She was holding Moran’s head in her lap. Moran’s uniform had a red stain in the abdomen that was growing larger by the moment.
“Got hit as I dived into the woods,” Moran croaked. Her blond hair was already slick with sweat, her face pale.
“Sorry, Devlin. I…I…” her voice trailed off as her implant fed nanites and nighty-night into her system. A moment later she looked dead, which for all intents and purposes she was.
Devlin rubbed his scalp. He glared over at McCarthy, whose shocked face got even paler as he looked at the body, hibernating though it was, of Lisa Moran. He bowed his head and started to stammer, “I’m sorry, I didn’t…”
“Shut up, Tom. Just shut up,” Devlin said tiredly. “You didn’t know; you had no way of knowing. This wasn’t even the same flier that attacked the camp. Just a stupid mistake, but it’s one that we have to deal with now. Is anybody else hurt?”
Arnette was sitting on the ground beside Decker with her legs crossed. She held one ankle in her hands. “Well, now that you mention it…” She looked at Devlin with pain-filled eyes. “I think my ankle is broken. I stepped straight into a hole as I came into the woods.”
Decker moved her legs out from underneath Moran’s head and laid it gently on the ground. She made her way to the other woman. Gartlan bent down as well and said, “Let’s get your boot off.”
Together, the two started trying to get the girl’s boot off. When Arnette hissed once and nearly passed out, they realized they’d have to cut it off. Gartlan produced a tactical knife and used the monomolecular edge to slice down the side of the boot. His cut made, he handed the knife to Decker, who sliced down the foot portion of the boot, careful not to cut too deeply.
“Here you go, Wolf,” she said handing the knife back to Gartlan, who folded it and put it back in his pocket. Together, he and Decker were finally able to peel the ruined boot off the injured girl’s foot.
Her foot, already purple, immediately started to swell. They propped her leg up on a rock covered with Gartlan’s tunic. Gartlan shook his head at Devlin. “She isn’t likely to go nighty-night, but she might as well. She ain’t going anywhere on that foot for a few days. And she’s not going to like this, but we’re going to have to set it and splint it so that the nanis don’t knit it wrong. Probably still will, but the canker mechanics should be able to fix it without too much problem if we get home.”
Sarah Arnette’s eyes went wide as Gartlan’s words hit home. “Oh Gods!” she moaned. “This is going to suck!”
“Do it,” Devlin said. “Come on, guys. They don’t need an audience, and we’ve got to get our shit together.”
He turned to walk away as Gartlan bent back down, and Decker opened a med kit.
Another drone flier came to halt in front of them, and a voice came over its vocoder, “State your name and passcode.”
* * * * *
Get “Devil Calls the Tune” now at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0849QYWMJ
Find out more about Chris Maddox and “Devil Calls the Tune” at: https://chriskennedypublishing.com/imprints-authors/chris-maddox/
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