Wayward Galaxy 5 by Jason Anspach & J. N. Chaney

Wayward Galaxy 5 by Jason Anspach & J. N. Chaney

Author:Jason Anspach & J. N. Chaney [Anspach, Jason & Chaney, J. N.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: military, SF, space opera
Publisher: Variant Publications
Published: 2022-08-07T07:00:00+00:00


“Tell me you upgraded your sensor array since riding in the advanced drones we used this week,” Reach said.

“You mean the J-Jared Sucks Robots?” Brody asked.

“One and the same. I need to know if we have motion sensors in here.”

Brody shared his vision with Reach. Everything was painted in shades of grey with footsteps highlighted in orange leading away from the deployment craft and through the hatch. The vision wiped away to the right, replaced by stark blues, oranges, and reds with occasional tinges of greens and yellows. There was an intense clicking noise that filtered into audio, like when Reach was a kid and he used to tape playing cards to his wheel spokes to make them clack like an engine. But these were rhythmic, almost like a signal. There was a pop in the audio, as though Brody were doing his classic trick of deciphering a transmission trying to hide itself. Like he’d done to save LT Bautista.

Eventually the sound rendered into almost similar speech that the doctor had used when they had just been testing out the new drones. “I think… I think we’ll… we’ll… think, think, think. I think we’ll call them.” The voice rendered in full clarity, eventually becoming Doctor Roman’s actual voice. “Jared Sucks.”

“Jerk. Come on!” The Bangora’s shadow passed from below the boat like some nightmare that had slithered out of the ocean while clinging to the boat, because that was exactly how they’d gotten on board.

Brody jumped up onto the decking and unrolled his Ghost camo poncho that he kept for just such an occasion. “I am going to have to get Dad to install some B-Bangora camo in my chassis. That way we can match when we go out like this.”

Reach slipped into the hall as a deathly shadow merging into the murky hallway lit by dull spotlights overhead. “If only, buddy. You’re one in nine hundred and ninety-nine.”



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