su-SPEC-t Small World Anthology

"Falling Out" by @Holly_Gonzalez

Icharus IX--isolated, quarantined, lifeless. Sergeant Rook Jaynes never thought she'd return here. There was nothing on this scoured waste-world worth saving, but Interstellar Central Command thought otherwise.

"Rook, are you paying attention?" Major Daylin's bark pummeled her skull.

"Sir, yes sir!" she said, saluting.

"Then get your shit together, Sergeant. If you're gonna cry, go home to Mommy and Daddy."

I am home--but Mom and Dad are dead. Rook steeled herself, ashamed of her tears. Memories of her youth on Icharus IX haunted her, before her family and so many others died from the Smut.

"I'm ready, sir," she said.

"The Seven Stars," the Major said, clasping his hands behind his back. "You're here because no one else can handle this operation."

Squad Commander Argo Fillburn inhaled his cigarette, the cherry flaring red as hell-fire. "We've got the team, the tech, and the talent, but you'd better have some solid intel. We won't fly in blind like the last squad did."

"We've got it," Major Daylin said. "Classified, but routine. You go in, investigate, and fly out. No hassles, no bullshit."

A sharp blond lock fell over Argo's face. "If it's so routine, why are you sending special ops like us? Why not just throw a bunch of grunts in?"

"Call it superstition about the Smut." The Major's angular jaw flexed. "We received a distress signal from an abandoned base down there, and it's got grown men shaking like pussies in boots. If anyone's alive, bring them back."

Commander Argo glanced at Rook, and she saw the flash of uncertainty in his slate blue eyes. He was a survivor of Icharus IX like she was. Like her, he knew the risks.

Argo stood, and extinguished his cigarette against one palm without a flinch. "Alright kiddos, you heard the order," he said. "Suit up. We dive on the hour."

Rook and her six fellow squad members stretched and grumbled, and trudged to the hold of the transport ship. Argo elbowed her as she passed.

"Watch those sensors once we land, Sergeant," he whispered. "We both know this rot-hole can go south fast. I'll be counting on you."

~~**O**~~

The Seven Stars waited beside the bay doors. Rook tightened her glove seals as her wing-suit pressurized and charged. Her heart pounded, always thrilled before a dive. The squad performed inspections as the airlock hissed. The ready alarm blared, and the doors opened. Frail light danced across robust layers of armor, and the resistant polymers of their wing-suits.

"Move out!" Commander Argo bellowed across all receivers.

Mouse and Trig jumped first, followed seconds later by Buzzer and Sparky. Argo piloted the supply shuttle, thrusters blazing as it plummeted out of sight. Rook and the Comm Specialist, Gripe, were last.

"I've secured all channels in case of trouble," Gripe said, his visor shield gleaming like quicksilver.

She gave a thumbs up. "Roger that."

They fell through the churning stew of clouds, radiation, and ash in the stratosphere. Plunging head first, Rook spread her limbs until her wings and rear stabilizers extended. Data flashed across the optical display in her helmet, monitoring temp, speed, elevation, and her vitals. The propulsion systems activated. Like raptors encased in high-powered metal, the squad swooped at ungodly velocity.

Bland and foreboding, the bleak surface unfolded below. Only ruin and misery remained on her once vibrant homeworld. Tears threatened to fall again, but Rook stifled them. Focus, Sergeant. When she neared the end of her descent, she activated the gyroscopic boot enhancements, and swerved to a landing.

  ~~**O**~~  

Peek into the world of Holly_Gonzalez for more stories like:

The coolest thing about the artwork for her covers? Holly is the artist, and a woman of many talents :D