Prologue
Inside one of the splendid guest rooms of Canterlot Castle, a figure started to rise from his bed. He was not a griffon ambassador, for that nation had closed its borders a long time ago. Nor was he a member of the Royal Staff, for they lived in the lower levels of the castle. His clawed toes slipped out of the rich sheets, and came to rest on the polished floor of the lavish bedchambers. Next to the bed were his black combat boots, polished and blacked almost to the point to where they would fail inspection. A job overly done, probably by one of the staff. Seeing the freshly oiled leather sitting right on the polished floor made him grimace and worry that it might stain. Everything in this room seemed almost too perfect to use. Lying in that bed felt like he was spoiling some display, and walking his freshly polished boots across the floor almost felt like an insult to the palace maids.
The decadence of this place never ceased to amaze him and it seemed like there was no such thing as mass production to the citizens of Equestria. Each and every article in his chamber seemed hand-carved, meticulously polished, and lovingly placed. Everything from the rosewood bed to the sturdy desk and even the glossy floor that it stood on seemed to bear the mark of some master craftsman. The sun’s glow flowed from the large window in the room and slowly began to warm Tarkan’s skin. And with his mind finally awake enough to process where he was and what had led him here, he let out a groan as he stretched his old bones. It was one of the best rooms in the whole castle for her appreciated guest.
Tarkan was the military advisor to the grand ruler of Equestria, the illustrious and not-often seen Princess Celestia. The ghostly, colorless body of the humanoid creature stumbled away from his bed. His pale bald head shined in the glow of the rising sun. His marine-blue, slitted eyes squinted as the morning rays illuminated the room. The sun here always bothered his eyes, and he shielded eyes with a hand until they could adjust to the alien star. The advisor was not by any means an Equestrian; he, like other members of his species, hail from a star so far away that it could not be seen through the most powerful of Equestrian telescopes.
They were Raslians, the sons and daughters of the Raslian Republic, one of the two powerhouse that had once jockeyed for control over hundreds of star systems against a separate union of planets and races, often with war and violence. But tempers had cooled, and the Galactic Union had signed their armistice with the Raslians. But all that declaration had done was move the conflict away from the battlefield, and into a long and drawn out power struggle that continually drove both factions to seek more worlds to bring into the fold. This led the Raslain Republic exploration ship: Narada to this world.
Tarkan drew a clawed hand over his scaly, white skin, relieving himself of the nagging itch that seemed to come every morning. Even though his bed was made from some of the silkier textiles that this backwater planet had to offer, it still had nothing on his bed back home. He missed his home ... he missed it very much. He massaged his wrinkled forehead with his three-fingered hands.
It’s going to be another long day in Equestria.
After putting on his boots he walked to the desk. He grabbed a black short-sleeved t-shirt that was hanging from the office chair. Putting on the soft cotton fabric over his upper body, he then started on the task on hand. He bent down and opened one of the drawers, removing a yellow manila folder from the wooden furniture. Collecting the items that littered the desk from last night's work session, he quickly sealed it to present his morning report to the self-proclaimed, all-powerful leader.
Tarkan seized the vintage bottle from the desk, opened it, and greedily downed it's amber-colored contents. The liquid burned as it went down his throat, leaving a warm sensation within the pit of his stomach. He paused his guzzling, removing the rare bottle from his lips. Tarkan looked at the window and laid the file back down on the desk, drink in hand. He leaned an arm against the frame of the window.
There he saw the entire beautiful, decaying city of Canterlot in its former-splendor; its many towers crumbling from the consent barrages of missiles that allied and insurgent forces hid in. The streets emptied of life, homes and business looted and ransacked for anything useful to survive. In the end it was all about survival. Gaining the upper hand against an enemy, using any means to outlive them, to fight them, to kill them.
Tarkan took a sip. He could see a small pillar of smoke billowing from the city below. The sound of spinning blades could be heard as a dropship raced towards the scene, its black metallic frame shining in the morning sun .Dual rotors spun in synchronized fashion as it headed for its destination. As the sound faded, so did the dropship, disappearing over the horizon like the moon falling to make way for the day. Just another day in Equestria, Tarkan took another sip from the bottle.
Ah, shit…
Six months after they made landfall... Gods had it been six months since? More like six years, on this rock. Tarkan chuckled to himself on the thought. But for him it’s been years since he’d seen his wife. His marriage was falling apart,so, he joined the army. Over the years he rose through the ranks but ever since…the fuck up happened he was transferred to the newly formed Raslian Republic exploration fleet. Forever ago since he’d seen his child, that… no, the last time he saw him was… when his ex-wife took custody of the child. I-it felt like a lifetime ago. Tarkan sighed, and took a drink.
Tarkan was extremely fortunate that these bipedal ponies spoke the universal language: English. In the abyss they said that they were here to help but…damn it what was that blue alicorn’s name? …L-luna yes, she almost ruined the talks with her declaring that Tarkan and his men came here for war…war and occupation of Equestria! How in the abyss could a force of 1,300 men occupy one whole city let alone inhabit a whole Gods damn kingdom. But still she wouldn’t listen even though he specifically said that we come in peace, that we are here to help you with the problem that your kind faces. Tarkan took another sip.
With the use of advanced technology and the united forces of the RRS Narada crew and the newly converted royal guard they will hopefully find a cure for the disease, this plague… that was slaughtering these ponies day after day. So far a cure has not been found and their stay only brought more problems than solutions. After their Captain Vendan Viseer went M.I.A, Tarkan quickly assumed command. Vendan even gave Tarkan the bottle as a gift before he went missing. Tarkan looked at the bottle and sighed it was almost empty.
Vendan… he could have become a fucking admiral but, he risked his whole career vouching for Tarkan at the trial, just because those higher- ups said he was charged with a war crime that he didn’t do! What the fuck, he had direct orders to attack! Over the twenty plus years he served in the armed forces he never question orders, he just followed them. But Vendan had to do this, he just had to come here and get involved with these animal’s affairs.To become a hero... The reason why is that Vendan could finally get promoted to admiral and Tarkan could get his old position back.
Document and leave those were the orders that Tarkan followed. He didn’t want to sink deeper into the shithole he dug himself into. But that bastard...no more like a mother fucking coward just left. No one knows why he did it. Maybe he couldn’t handle the stress, the pressure of seeing piles upon piles of the infected doused in flamer fuel waiting to be set ablaze! He just disappeared leaving Tarkan to clean up his mess to finish what he started. Tarkan gritted his teeth, and tighten his grip around the bottle. He was losing his temper again, breathe, Tarkan,breathe. He closed his eyes, and took several deep calming breaths.
Tarkan opened his eyes; he already wasted a sufficient amount of time. He turned around and placed the bottle back on the desk he then grabbed the folder and headed down toward the door.
Outside the window of Tarkan’s guestroom to the dying city, a very weak signal crackled in the coms at first but, as the dropship headed deeper and deeper in the city the signal increased gradually until the pilot could make it out.
“Mayday, mayday, this is Echo Base One requesting support! Repeat this is Echo Base One requesting immediate support! Over,” screamed the speaker.
“This is Bug 610 to Echo Base One, I read you loud and clear. Coming by to assist, over.” Said the pilot.
A pause, in the background you could hear a low whistling and a large boom. “Located at grid: 4Q, sector: 2467 we are under heavy enemy mortar fire. Please can you assist, we’ve got sick and wounded over. ”
In the background a young woman was crying, more whistling and bangs, some rapid exchange of laser fire, screaming of men, women and children filled the airwaves. All of this was happening while a voice trying to be heard amidst the chaos; “We need to get these civvies to the evac zone!”
“Oh shit in-incomi-” There was a loud bang.
“Echo Base One to Bug 610 respond, repeat Echo Base One please respond,” the pilot said.
Only radio static could be heard on the other end.
Gettin’ back into the swing of things.
Gettin’ back into the swing of things.
CH.1: Gettin’ back into the swing of things.
Edited by Gamer X
His first kill... it was more of a mercy killing than actual combat. Dropped on some
shit-hole, and separated from his squad during entry, he now had to find and regroup with them.
It was very gray that day. Gray sky, gray ground, and gray dust. So much dust was being kicked up as
the drop ship sped passed, that Private Mike Travis raised a hand to shield himself from the bits of
debris that bombarded his face as he walked onto the gray landscape. No sun just, all gray sky.
Decked out from head to toe in full combat gear, he looked up to the gray sky as more drop ships
sped past him. Wind rustled as the dust kicked up around him.
He kept moving. He saw the burnt out husk of a hover tank. The gray skeleton of the
gunner layed out of the tank trying to escape his inevitable death.
Mike kept moving.
He kept moving from a few meters from the tank, until he stepped on something he stopped
and looked down. He removed his foot off the object.
It was an arm...a pale three fingered arm and a few feet beyond that a writhing form on the
grey ground. Mike step over the severed limb and walked to the man that was in pain. He was a
raslain there was no doubt about that. Green blood pooled around him. His torn up black combat
uniform with some pale white skin showing. His small slits nostrils flared in pain. His reptilian
navy blue eyes looked into Mike’s combat visor. The raslain opened his mouth, blood instead of
words gushed out. Mike looked at the small stump of where the raslain’s arm once was. It was pointing at Mike as if trying to warn him to stay away. The raslain then rolled onto his
stomach and used his still second attached arm to drag himself on the ground.
The raslain’s head turned to see Mike’s laser rifle aimed at poor, bleeding creature's head.
Mike squeezed the trigger and looked away.
Fifteen years later.
The small weering noise of the fluorescent light stood unfluctuating, unvarying. It could
drive someone mad if they listened to it long enough, but people just ignore it anyway. It is now a part
of their daily lives. Like the sink and mirror across the room. It was like the *bloop* from the
faucet as a small bead of water dripped from its spout, like the window that showed the stars
passing by, or like the bunk bed. The bed was about at it's standard with a human lying on it. With his hands resting comfortably behind his head, he looked at the deep dark abyss
shielded by the window. Space.
Captain Mike Travis, with his graying slicked-back hair, wrinkled features and
well-maintained mustache. Was waiting on his friend. The old war dog thought about the
mission that would soon come.
Mike was currently aboard on the RRS Zodiac, a craft flying across the cosmos to an
unexplored planet: ED-24, where an alleged “ghost ship” was last seen. They were sent to try to
find and secure the once missing so-called “ghost ship”, or the RRS Narada. Now why is a human
on a Raslain ship? Even with the armistice, the war wasn’t really over between the two races.
There was also the fact that most humans lived in G.U.(Galactic Union) territory and they helped
to fight in the decade-long war with the Raslains.
Well to explain is that Mike Travis is currently a mercenary. The payment was one million
credits for the search and recovery of three high ranking crewmembers: Captain Vendan Viseer,
Commander Tarkan Cardale, and Lieutenant Zuran Argav as well any surviving crew members of
the RRS Narada.
Mike heard at least two of those names before…was it a datastream or on the news?
Either way, he had heard about Commander Tarkan. He recounted that Tarkan
commanded a regiment in the army, stationed at a mining colony that the G.U. and R.R had both
deemed strategically important. Long story short, there was an engagement and there were some
aid workers in the area that got caught in the crossfire.
The poor guy got court martialed for it. Vendan, his friend, helped ease the charges. That
was around a year before the war had ended. Last Mike had heard, Tarkan was transferred to exploring
the frontier, allying races to the cause or something of that sort. It was something that the G.U. had
been doing for years now. "It's been almost ten years, just give it up already," Mike thought.
But, hell, the crew could have been dead for all he knew, for all anyone knew. Hell, it’d
been almost two years since the ship was last seen. They had gotten that transmission.... three maybe
four weeks ago? And just now the R.R decided to launch a rescue operation using mercenaries as
scouts? But who could complain? The pay met their needs and after this mission Mike and his
partner, Sergeant Galah were going to retire somewhere that was warm and quiet.
Just head in, look around and if they can’t find them just go on home, plain and simple.
Plain and simple, but you always have to prepare for the worse. His old army days were all about; prep-
“Hey sleepyhead, time to wake your old ass up.” A deep gruff voice broke Mike’s train of thought
as he turned his head away from the constant moving stars and to the source of the voice.
“You know being forty-five isn’t really that old, dinosaur.” Mike replied with a chuckle as he
deliberately stood up from the bed.
The figure walked in the room. He was blue skinned, tall with a lean muscular build, and he was a good head taller than Mike, with a prickled snow white 3
o'clock shado, small flappy ears and a short narrow chin. His kind called themselves 'Taulians'
They too were a part of the many species that made up the G.U.
Mike’s gaze into the golden eyes of the Taulian named Galah. He smiled, and said, “Hey
man, how was the talk with the old grayie?”
They walked out and into the long wide hallway their boots hitting the hard metal surface
Galah replied, “It went well… we've got a new guy.”
“Wait another pilot like the kid, Steven? Don’t they know that we already have a
pilot?” Asked Mike, a confused look on his face.
“No, he is a sniper, a Raslain.” said Galah
"Oh boy..." Mike said with a grimace. "I thought I'd requested this to be a two man job?"
“Well I’m sorry that requested was denied by the old big and grey. What she told me was,
and I quote, ‘he will help maximize squad effectiveness.’ Or some BS like that.She also said that
this operation requires each squad to have at least three men,” said Galah as they reached the end of the
hallway.
There stood a shiny metal door, it slid open as the duo walked in. A large, rectangular
room greeted them as they entered inside. About five or so Raslains stood in the white room in the
rows of the gun range. The the sound of laser fire could be heard as the blue beams of light striking
through the paper targets and dissolving into the black charred wall behind. An authoritative voice
could be heard shouting over the trainees, “Come on! What kind of shooting was that?”
The duo paid no attention to the Raslain recruits or their instructor with their backs turned to the
humans and taulians at their posts; some only in their twenties. Some of the recruits had a
darker shade of gray with small horn- like appendages jutting from their heads and chins with one
or more in a curve like manner, and others, ghostly white with no horns at all, but had sharp claws which they used to grip the assault rifle tightly in their hands.
Their rifles crackled shot after shot hitting the paper targets. Their facial expressions were
calm and focused as the instructor continued to shout insults and offenses, but they ignored him.
The assault rifles were all black titanium, with an adjustable stock, metal grip, and iron
sights. The weapons had well designed internals and would rarely jam. The standard R.R assault
rifle could fire three shot burst or full- auto. The official name: EPR-09 (Energy Pulse Rifle). It
could fire a plasma shot 500 to 600 yards.
The human continued on the conservation beforehand. “So the old gal really was serious
about the three man deal. Well, did you get his name?”
His friend replied, “Yea it’s Corporal Nirir.”
Mike smiled “So is he going to nanny you if I’m gone?”
He raised an eyebrow raised at him. “Shut up man.” Galah said jokingly.
At the end of the room away from all the shooting and vile comments the pair approached a
large white desk. Behind it sat a raslain reading a novella from his flickering portable holo emitter.
How could someone be, so bored with all the yelling and shooting? He flicked a finger in the air
as he turned to the next page. Behind him stood a massive weapons rack. Pistols, EPRs, shotguns,
sniper rifles, ELLs (Explosive Laser Launcher), and grenades; a gun nut’s wet dream.
All the weapons were neatly stacked and organized by type in rows behind a powerful,
shimmering force-field. Beneath it was/is an electronic keypad. The Raslain noticed the duo of
mercenaries walking towards him. He tapped the button on his wrist and the hologram faded back
into the emitter. Mike said, “Um, hey we’re for a weapons pickup.”
The bored expression never left the Raslain’s face. His cheeks were grey and sagging, and
a small horn jutted from his forehead as his green eyes stared at the pair. He stared at them for a
good while. “Give me one moment,” the weapons master finally said with a sigh. He then went
under his desk and a few seconds later he produced two large, black duffel bags. He unzipped
them and turned around to the arsenal behind him. “Names?” The weapon master asked over his
shoulder to the human and taulian.
“Mike Travis and Galah Vulopor.” Mike answered.
“Mmhmm. You'll be getting the standard weapons load out.” Said the weapons master as
he disabled the force-field with the touch of a few buttons. He reached and grabbed two EPR-09s
from the rack. He put both in the duffle bags and reached under the desk and lifted a large metal
box next to the duffle bags. He opened the box and pulled out a fist-sized spherical black object; it
had a small green button on the center and a small Velcro patch on its side. He put three of them in
each bag.
A few minutes later
“Jesus...that took longer than necessary. The guy didn’t have to take 50 years checking an
EPR. I kept saying that the damn thing was ready and he was like ’no no have to recheck the fuse
for any malfunction’ … what an asshole.” Mike growled angrily.
“You looked like you were about to blow a fucking gasket.” Galah said with a laugh.
“Whatever. Let’s just get to the hangers already.” Mike said with duffel bag in hand ending
the conversation. A cleaning drone hovered pass them as they walked along winding hallway.
On the way to their destination, Mike thought about the mission and the statistics. Will the
crew still be on the ship or on the planet’s surface? Even if their still alive? Will the planet’s local
natives be hostile to them if Mike’s squad is forced to land? All these questions had at least more than one answer to them. Mike will have to wait until they reach the hangers.
The duo walked passed a small room with a glass door and inside that room were several Raslains.
They were seated all in a small circle smoking their cigarettes discussing some muffled
conversation that Mike couldn’t really make out. They might have been talking about the latest
politics, sports, life on the ship, about their families back at their home colony or at the home
world.
Mike just kept on moving.
Mike and Galah finally reached the hanger. If they'd needed to describe it in a single word,
that word would have been titanic. Ships of various shapes and sizes littered the landing bay. From
one man fighters, to transports that could carry twenty or so people; custom made transports that
screamed costly upkeep. Human, taulian, pavonavi and many many more. Most of them working
with PMCs and a few were like Mike: independents. In the front was a massive air lock; double
door reinforced titanium. On the ceiling massive lights hanged using untold amounts of power to
light the hanger.
“The R.R is really shelling out the big bucks for this one ship.” Galah remarked.
The pair went about to get their ship for the mission and most importantly meet the fucking
new guy. After a few minutes of walking they finally located their ship. It was a sturdy thing.
It had helped them on, so many missions that Mike had lost count a while ago. Though it
had some wear and tear it was just as reliable as her pilot. Who is currently having a chat with the
new guy.
“Hey Steven! Is she primed and ready?” Mike called out to his pilot.
Steven Konrad was not much of a looker; blond hair, emerald eyes, white t-shirt with some
oil stains here and there, and blue cargo pants. An overall sloppy appearance to him, but with an
air of confidence. With a look saying ‘don’t worry man I got this’. What he loved to do is fly his
ship all across the cosmos. Of course Steven had a really bad habit of telling about all the missions
Mike and Galah flown over. He was a loudmouth, but a damn good pilot.
Steven stopped his conversation with the Raslain, turned to Mike and said, “ Yeah, she’s as ready as can be.”
The Raslain turned his head and his green-gold eyes meet Mike’s deep brown ones. John
said. “ You must be the new sniper Galah was talking about.”
Nirir was a professional or at least tried to be too the best of his ability but, forced to be
working with mercs. 'Command must have their heads up their asses,' thought the Corporal. Nirir’s
ear twitched in annoyance as he tried to cover up his displeasure from being forced to work with
them. He scratch his small horn that jutted from his chin. He heard some shady things about
mercs, but they were just rumors. You know most of them were about high collateral damage,
rape, and people going missing the kind of stuff you would hear on a datestream. But these mercs
aren’t even ready. Where’s their armor? At least he had full combat armor on. “Yea, its nice to
meet you.” said Nirir as he raised a gloved hand.
Mike shook his hand, so did Galah as well a sign of good faith. As Galah let go of Nirir’s
hand Mike said. “ Have you seen the inside yet?”
“No. ” Said Nirir.
“Yea we just got some nice leather padding on the seats. Mike said we have barely enough
money as it is but with a little convincing from moi I able to get it installed half cost then it usually
was.” Steven bragged.
“We are going to suit up now. Uh, you can come in and see the ship or you can stay with
greasemonkey.” Said Mike . The ship’s door opened and a footbridge extended to the floor. Mike
and Galah went in.
“Sooo where was I...Oh yea, so the angry mob was getting closer and Mike was just
hauling ass from rooftop to rooftop...” Steven blabbered on but, Nirir ignored him at this point.
As the second knee pad strapped on his leg. Mike tighten it thoroughly making sure that it
was snug. He then double checked his gear:
Oxygen and water mini tanks filled and ready. Check.
Helmet and the connectors to said oxygen and mini water tanks. Check
EPR with six full charged energy cells. Check
Long range beacon to call for reinforcements once the job is done. Check
And kinfe...Check
“ Ok everything should be in order. How about you.” said Mike.
“Yea I’m good.” said Galah looking down at his armor.
They were standing both with rifles in hand and ready for the upcoming mission. They
were in was the passenger's area there was six chairs all bolted down with the expensive brown
material that padded it. Ahead of them was the pilot’s chair with its numerous buttons, and
switches. The room next door was called the drop bay. It helped them get on the planet
A alarm started to sound and a voice could be heard from the loudspeaker.
“All personnel please report to your craft. We are now approaching the planet. Repeat all
personnel please report to your craft.” It droned.
Nirir and Steven came in the ship a few seconds later. Steven headed towards the pilots
chair, mumbling something that Mike couldn’t really understand 'what's up with him he thought to
himself.' Mike looked at Galah and he shrugged. Nirir went to his seat with duffle bag in hand. He
then sat down and opened up his duffle bag to reveal an sniper rifle he slung it over his back. He
reached into the duffle bag once more and pulled out a small pistol and holstered it.
Mike and Galah headed towards their seats next to Nirir whose helmet covered his face.
The orange visor reflected the pair of faces. Mike put his helmet on, so did Galah. Two blue eyes
lit up as the helmet was activated. All three buckled up and Steven turned and looked at them and
said. “Hey you guys ready.”
Mike replied. “ Yes we’re ready. Please let's just get this job over with.”
"Ok ok. Jeez don’t get your nuts in a twist.”
“What was that?”
“Oh uh nothing.” Said Steven clearing his throat and said. “Primary thrusters online,
engine core stable, and here is the best part." He grabbed the steering weel. “And we have
lift off!" Said Steven.
Outside the ship the massive airtight doors began to open.
It revealed to them a shape looming outside of the safety of the hanger. Slowly orbiting
above the planet below. There she was: the RRS Narada, the fabled ghost ship. It look like it went
through hell. But it was still there alright. It looks like she is about to just drop to be pulled by the
planet’s gravitational pull but, it’s still there. The radio crackled to life in the cockpit of Steven’s
ship
“This is command speaking to all scouting parties we’ve did a bio-scan of the RRS Narada
and we confirm that there are no life forms on the ship. Repeat there are no life forms on the ship.”
Mike heard this.
This is going to be no easy job at all. Mike thought then that means...shit. This isn’t going
to be a quick job, oh God, no not at all. Lucky the men up top traced the signal to a small little area
of land on one of the continents on the planet. Somewhere down below.
The small fleet of space craft left the safety of the hanger and only space greeted them.
Silence remained aboard Steven's ship. Steven saw the Narada coming up into view, she was
lightly armed like most ships of her class with two ion cannons and a massive AA gun. It could
hold against a stream of fighters, but not a full class warship.
The RRS Narada floated in between the planet and the RRS Zodiac. As the expeditionary
force moved ever so closer to the planet. The AA gun from the RRS Narada moving into firing
position.
Steven notices this. He spoke into the radio “ Uh Command didn’t you say that the ship
was lifeless?”
“Yes but, the ship still has power coming from it. Why do you ask?” Command says.
“Cause one: it may be possessed or two: that someone left on kill everything in sight mode.
That anti aircraft gun is pointed straight at us!” Steven exclaimed
Before command could respond the AA gun fired.
Needless to say, it rocked their world. The ship shook up the passengers inside it.
“Shit!” Shouted Steven.
“What the hell was that.” said Mike.
“That AA gun got a fucking bead on us that's what's up!” Said Steven.
The exploration fleet pulled out of formation as the AA gun open fired again . An
unfortunate carrier was torn to shreds by the might of the AA canon. It exploded into a ball of
torn metal. There were some bodies floating in wreckage as the exposure killed them instantly.
AA gun fired another barrage of flak at Steven's ship.
“Ugh, this thing is not going last much longer. Look Mike just get your ass in the drop pod
and finish this job!” Said Steven.
"We can just leave you, man." said Galah.
"I know that. But you guys know me, I have gotten out of tougher situations than this."
Said Steven.
"You heard him we need to get down on the ground before the AA gun here tears us a
new asshole." Said Mike as he unbuckles. Nirir and Galah did the same.
The squad headed down to the drop pod doors.
Mike was opening his up before Steven called out. "Oh and Mike...Just be careful down
there. Get through it, ok man."
"Don't you worry." reassured Mike and with that he closed up his door.
The HUD lit up as Mike prepared himself for the journey downwards it shown the emerald
green surface of the planet below. Mike put his EPR into the equipment rack. He then buckled up
and grabbed his two control sticks tightly.
Ok this it it just breath in and out. Thought Mike as he sucked air into his lungs.
Breath in and out
Breath in and out
Calculating speed and velocity
Shielding at 100%
launching In...
Three, two, one. And down he went. Down, down to the planet below. The place that will
answer all his questions. The place that the crew will hopefully be. The place where his mission
will finally get some headway.
