[Ruins of the Galaxy 07] • Terminal Fallout by Chaney J.N. & Hopper Christopher

Author:Chaney, J.N. & Hopper, Christopher [Chaney, J.N. & Hopper, Christopher]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Amazon: B0848XCYM6
Goodreads: 51269532
Publisher: Variant Publications
Published: 2020-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

“So what’s the plan?” Magnus said. The Gladio Umbra’s leadership sat on a back portico overlooking a dense section of jungle. Snow-covered mountains rose from the forest, their peaks dragging through low-lying clouds, leaving long furrows in the puff white fabric.

“I say we bust in there and blast them all to hell,” Robillard said. “Dominate. Liberate. And good riddance.”

“Hold on there, tiger,” Willowood said. “We do that, and the Commodore puts us and, more importantly, the Sekmit on his top enemy’s list.”

“I don’t mean any disrespect, your madamship,” Bliss said. “But haven’t we all concluded that the GR is toast anyway? Who cares what one measly little commodore thinks. I say, kick the bastards out and let us relax here for a few extra weeks. Hell, who knows, maybe they invite us to stay permanently. Sure beats the Dregs. No offense, Abimbola.”

“Offense taken,” Abimbola said with a grin. “I will slit your throat later.”

“Cool, thanks.” Then Bliss gave Abimbola a startled look. “Wait, what?”

“The Republic is down,” Caldwell said. “But not out. Not yet, anyway. Freya is right to be concerned.”

“So why not wait until the Repub’s fate is formalized?” Zoll asked. “Feels like this whole thing might work itself out in the next few months. I’d wager a 100-cred poker chip on the governor abandoning his house by year’s end.” He withdrew one of Abimbola’s chips and tossed it on the table.

“I see that,” Robillard said. “And I’ll raise you another hundo.” He threw another chip on the table. “I say he’s gone in a month.”

“Whoa, whoa,” Magnus said, pumping his hands. “Enough betting. This is serious, and if we don’t figure something out fast, you won’t be able to spend your winnings.”

“And how’s that, LT?” Bliss asked.

“’Cause you’ll be breathing through a few slits in your neck,” Magnus replied. “These Sekmit mean what they say—they’re not letting us leave until we help them.”

“So what is the plan?” Abimbola asked.

Awen spoke up. “The last thing Freya and the other tribal leaders want is a war. All Seaman needs to do is send in the remains of a division, or field one Super Dreadnaught in a blockade, and that’s enough to set the Sekmit back several years.”

“You really think he’d do that though?” Bliss asked. “With everything that’s happened?”

“Good people get crazy under pressure,” Caldwell said. “Like my Aunty Sally when Hank brought home two milkmaids at the same time. She went all sorts of SUBAR on his ass.”

“SUBAR?” Willowood asked.

Even from across the table, Magnus heard Forbes lean in and whisper, “Splicked up beyond all recognition.”

“I see,” Willowood said, folding her hands in her lap.

“Seems like we have one clear option then,” Magnus said. The rest of the team looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “We’ve got to convince the planetary governor to leave of his own accord. We leave the Sekmit out of this.”

“And just how do you propose we go about doing that?” Robillard asked.

“I don’t know,” Magnus said, rubbing his jaw. “I seem to recall a certain Miblimbian who can be very persuasive.

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