Cannibal Planet by M.E. Brines
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First they destroyed his
ship, and then they killed his partner and marooned him on a planet of
cannibals. But that last one was their mistake. You don’t kill one Space Ranger
and leave his partner alive.
Lieutenant AYA is an
attractive woman in a man’s world, commander of a mercenary regiment’s
artillery. She confuses masculinity with effectiveness, and denies her femininity.
Women are soft, sweet and therefore ineffective. Romantic relationships are for
the weak.
Marooned on a planet of
cannibals as the clock ticks down on the deaths of billions, can a couple who
avoid relationships, work together to save the people of the Cannibal Planet
from certain death? Find out in Cannibal Planet!
~Excerpt~
I knew it was going to
be one of those days when the warning panel lit up like a holiday display
before we’d even been in-system ten seconds. Missiles were blossoming into existence
all around us and we’d been painted by at least a dozen sensor beams before I
even had a chance to swear.
As my hands danced
across the control panel bringing the thrusters on line I called to my partner.
“Hey, Kid! Fire up the
laser turret in point defense mode, will ya?”
He threw some switches
on the weapons panel and asked, “But where are they all coming from? We’re the
only ship around.”
“Minefield,” I said,
twisting the ship out of the way of a missile, then corkscrewing down towards
the planet’s surface. The kid was thrown from his chair.
“Kid, I keep telling you
to strap in whenever you’re in a control chair.”
He crawled back toward
his position. “Yeah, I know. But how was I to know that we’d fly right into a
shooting war four seconds out of jump space in a supposedly peaceful star
system?”
“That’s why you always
use the restraint harness. By the time you know you’re going to need it, it’s
too late.” I shook my head. It was so much easier just to work alone.
We dodged to port and a
missile shot past us, its exhaust leaving scorch marks on our hull. He’d almost
reached his chair but was thrown again by the sudden movement, rolling across
the little control room of the scout ship. Our inertia-dampeners just weren’t
quite up to the violent maneuvering I was putting them through.
The sensors displayed an
automatic distress signal from a coastal location near the spaceport. Somebody
else must have had trouble with the mines. I turned our nose towards our
compatriots in misery and punched the thrusters, diving into the atmosphere.
The tracking board began
screaming and flashed three missiles closing the range on converging tracks.
“Frack!” I said. “Hold on!”
“Frack!” I said. “Hold on!”
We spun like a drunken
dancer, dodging one. Our laser took out the second but the third punched right
through our hull with a dull bong I could feel through the deck. The damage
control panel switched its primary color scheme from green to red and my
control stick went limp. I hit the release button on my harness, grabbed my
suit’s helmet and headed for the door.
“Abandon ship, kid.”
He scrambled to his
feet. “But we’ve still got power.”
“Yeah, but the maneuver
drive’s toast. That means we’re a sitting duck. It’s only a matter of time
before a missile gets past our point defense to finish the job.”
I twisted my suit’s
helmet in place over my head and activated both the radio and the outside
speakers, then slid down the ladder to the deck below without bothering with
the rungs. The kid snapped his own helmet in place and followed me down, but
then made a move toward his cabin.
I ran the opposite way
toward the cargo hold. “No time!” I called back. “We’ve only seconds to get
clear.” And if the next missile took out our fusion bottle this planet would
suddenly find itself with a bright, shiny new sun, but not for very long.
Inside the hold I
grabbed the backpack I kept stocked with emergency supplies and tossed it into
the cargo compartment of the air raft.
“Evacuate the cargo
hold.” I told him and started releasing the restraints holding the vehicle to
the deck. He punched buttons in a sequence on the control panel by the hatch,
then ran to the open cab of the air raft and hopped into the passenger seat.
I threw off the last
restraint as the outer hatch began to slide open, sucking the final wisp of atmospheric
pressure into the void. Outside, the planet whipped by twice a second as we
spun out of control into the atmosphere. If it hadn’t been for the dampeners
we’d have been pinned against the wall like insects waiting to be swatted by
the next missile. I threw myself into the control seat, hitting the start
button with one thumb while my other hand buckled the restraint harness across
my body.
“Hang on, kid.” I
punched the accelerator and that was the last I ever saw of him.
The air raft shot out of
the cargo bay like a missile from a launch tube but when we hit the slipstream
roaring past at thousands of kilometers an hour we began tumbling like a leaf
in a typhoon. He hadn’t buckled up and vanished from the passenger seat, taken
by the wind and the forces of gravity.
I was alone. Again.
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~About the Author~
M.E. Brines spent the
Cold War assembling atomic artillery shells and preparing to unleash the
Apocalypse (and has a medal to prove it.) But when peace broke out, he turned
his fevered, paranoid imagination to other pursuits. He spends his spare time
scribbling another steampunk romance occult adventure novel, which despite
certain rumors absolutely DOES NOT involve time-traveling Nazi vampires!
A former member of the
British Society for Psychical Research, he is a long-time student of the occult
and a committed Christian who sees himself as a modern-day Professor Van
Helsing equipping Believers for battle against the occult Principalities and
Powers that rule a world in darkness. (Ephesians 6:12)
The author of three
dozen books, e-books, chapbooks and pamphlets on esoteric subjects such as
alien abduction, alien hybrids, astrology, the Bible, biblical prophecy,
Christian discipleship, conspiracies, esoteric Nazism, the Falun Gong, Knights
Templar, magick, and UFOs, his work has also appeared in Challenge magazine,
Weird Tales, The Outer Darkness, Tales of the Talisman, and Empirical magazine.
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