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   Chapter 179 No.179

The Galaxii Series Omnibus 1 By Christina Engela Characters: 5546

Updated: 2018-06-30 19:01


"Yeah." Mykl agreed to himself, "He'd better."

* * *

Sometimes things work out according to plan, and sometimes they don't. Sometimes disguises work, and sometimes they don't – and sometimes infiltrating scout ships might slip through a net, and sometimes – well, you get the picture.

The shuttle spun crazily as it hit the planet's atmosphere at exactly the wrong angle. A plume of flame burst into existence around it, tapering off and marking a trail as it plunged. On the flight deck, pandemonium reigned. Bathed in the intense light radiating through the view ports, a man was struggling almost vainly against the apparent will of the craft to destroy itself. Considering that in all probability the shuttle would succeed and be smashed into a smoking crater in the ground – then the detail that he was an average-looking, well-built man with about a week's stubble on his face, was somewhat irrelevant.

"The bloody thing's as user-friendly as an A-bomb!" Blachart growled at the hapless pilot, just as another bump in the turbulence shook both him and Ensign Brenton – the man in the seat beside him – to the bone. His white-knuckled hands gripped the armrests of his seat tightly as Brenton frantically tried a different tactic to boost the anti-grav units in the hope that it might slow the ship's fiendishly fast descent, but beating the control console with his own clenched fists every other second didn't seem to be working.

"We're finished! We're fucked!" Brenton shrieked, panic stricken.

Yeah – and he was supposed to be the passenger! Blachart grimaced. There were two people onboard – him and the hysterical pilot who was now rol

some reason, lamingtons. The anti-grav units had kicked in at last! Almost too late! And…they…were… straining…with the…effort of…slo…wing…the…fall!

He allowed himself a much needed sigh of relief. Then, very suddenly, everything went black.

Back on the Antarse, Mykl – who had fallen asleep with Ripley on the couch in his office, while awaiting feedback on the mission – was awoken by an electronic beeping. It had to be electronic, because in nearly two centuries of space exploration, no species of animal – or plant, had been encountered that went around making noises like that… not even during mating season, which oddly enough, was the subject of the dream from which he awoke.

It must've been mission-related. He'd stayed up to keep tabs on Blachart's progress across the gaps between moons, stealthily moving closer to Endicor, apparently unmolested, before he decided to hit the hay. He needed sleep, it had been a busy last few days – and anyway, he needed to be fresh and ready in case something came up. He found his comlink and hit the green button.

"What time is it?" He rasped.

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