Read Online Freedom Vs. Aliens (Aliens Series Book 3) by T. Jackson King - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: T. Jackson King
Ads: Link
Lander Anneli Korhone n descended through Earth’s upper atmosphere in a spiraling descent that soon placed them a mile above the two dry valleys that flanked the South Pole Naval Academy. A rare blizzard had moved in from the Ross Sea, pushing snow into the Dry Valleys faster than the landscape’s dry soil could absorb it or sublimate the crystals into vapor. Or so his onboard expert told him.
“It’s called katabatic winds,” Maureen said from her seat beside him in the Pilot Cabin of the lander. “Normally all water, ice and snow evaporates before it can reach the desert floor of these valleys. This storm is rare. But fortunate for us. It will force people to stay inside the factory building.”
“Thank you, Combat Commander. You are a fount of wisdom.”
Chuckles sounded over his enviro-suit’s comlink tab. He recognized Max’s gruff tone and Ignacio’s dry rasp. Among the fifteen marine voices he detected the dry tone of Lieutenant Andy Mabry, a man whose family heritage went back to the Texas of old America. Mabry had twenty years in as a space marine special ops leader, a fact which he’d learned during the man’s chatting with Maureen.
Jack tapped the NavTrack panel into slowing the lander’s descent, using belly jets that were not as loud as the howl of the blizzard wind outside. It was blowing at 100 kilometers an hour, pushing the white snowflakes down and then across the flaming wreckage that had once been the academy. Small yellow explosions spotted the landscape here and there as propane gas tanks thrown out by the initial matter-to-antimatter blasts now split open from sudden exposure to temperatures of minus 20 degrees centigrade. He gave thanks it was daytime rather than night. At least the face masks each of them wore warmed the air they breathed, while giving them vision into the infrared, UV and low light conditions now prevailing in the middle of the blizzard.
The NavTrack panel beeped. “Ship hovering ten meters above target location,” said the dry tone of the panel’s expert system.
“Maintain hover relative to current GPS location. Respond only to the my voice print or that of Maureen O’Dowd,” Jack said.
“Accepted,” the machine voice said.
He unlocked the seat’s restraint straps and stood up, nearly bumping into Maureen as she did the same.
“I go ahead of you, youngster!” she growled. “I’m your personal guard and don’t you forget it.”
Jack knew better than to argue with the woman. Instead, he followed her into the lander’s cargo hold where Ignacio, Max, Lieutenant Mabry and fourteen space marines of both genders were standing and moving toward the midbody airlock of the lander. Each marine was attaching a rappelling rope to one of the ceiling hooks that were just outside of the inner airlock hatch. He had told the lander’s Eco-computer to allow the opening of the outer hatch without the closing of the inner hatch. It had not been a happy computer. The lander was designed for space, not for helitack style disbursement of people aiming to make a silent rappel down to a building roof, where they would use a soundless diamond saw to cut multiple openings in the central skylight. After which they would drop in on their rappelling cords. He had argued with Mabry that he and Maureen should be the first people down on the roof. The man had calmly pointed out that his people were trained to do what Jack, Maureen, Max and Ignacio had only practiced doing while on Mathilde. During their break time between games of soccer. Jack had accepted the man’s point, but made clear that he and his people would be the first to drop through the skylight. He owed it to his sister to be the first rescuer she might see. Even if she then died at the hands of nearby guards.
A sudden wind gust rushed through the cargo hold as Mabry got the outer hatch to open while blocking the closure of the inner hatch. The black-suited marines, each of whom carried a laser rifle, a revolver
“It’s called katabatic winds,” Maureen said from her seat beside him in the Pilot Cabin of the lander. “Normally all water, ice and snow evaporates before it can reach the desert floor of these valleys. This storm is rare. But fortunate for us. It will force people to stay inside the factory building.”
“Thank you, Combat Commander. You are a fount of wisdom.”
Chuckles sounded over his enviro-suit’s comlink tab. He recognized Max’s gruff tone and Ignacio’s dry rasp. Among the fifteen marine voices he detected the dry tone of Lieutenant Andy Mabry, a man whose family heritage went back to the Texas of old America. Mabry had twenty years in as a space marine special ops leader, a fact which he’d learned during the man’s chatting with Maureen.
Jack tapped the NavTrack panel into slowing the lander’s descent, using belly jets that were not as loud as the howl of the blizzard wind outside. It was blowing at 100 kilometers an hour, pushing the white snowflakes down and then across the flaming wreckage that had once been the academy. Small yellow explosions spotted the landscape here and there as propane gas tanks thrown out by the initial matter-to-antimatter blasts now split open from sudden exposure to temperatures of minus 20 degrees centigrade. He gave thanks it was daytime rather than night. At least the face masks each of them wore warmed the air they breathed, while giving them vision into the infrared, UV and low light conditions now prevailing in the middle of the blizzard.
The NavTrack panel beeped. “Ship hovering ten meters above target location,” said the dry tone of the panel’s expert system.
“Maintain hover relative to current GPS location. Respond only to the my voice print or that of Maureen O’Dowd,” Jack said.
“Accepted,” the machine voice said.
He unlocked the seat’s restraint straps and stood up, nearly bumping into Maureen as she did the same.
“I go ahead of you, youngster!” she growled. “I’m your personal guard and don’t you forget it.”
Jack knew better than to argue with the woman. Instead, he followed her into the lander’s cargo hold where Ignacio, Max, Lieutenant Mabry and fourteen space marines of both genders were standing and moving toward the midbody airlock of the lander. Each marine was attaching a rappelling rope to one of the ceiling hooks that were just outside of the inner airlock hatch. He had told the lander’s Eco-computer to allow the opening of the outer hatch without the closing of the inner hatch. It had not been a happy computer. The lander was designed for space, not for helitack style disbursement of people aiming to make a silent rappel down to a building roof, where they would use a soundless diamond saw to cut multiple openings in the central skylight. After which they would drop in on their rappelling cords. He had argued with Mabry that he and Maureen should be the first people down on the roof. The man had calmly pointed out that his people were trained to do what Jack, Maureen, Max and Ignacio had only practiced doing while on Mathilde. During their break time between games of soccer. Jack had accepted the man’s point, but made clear that he and his people would be the first to drop through the skylight. He owed it to his sister to be the first rescuer she might see. Even if she then died at the hands of nearby guards.
A sudden wind gust rushed through the cargo hold as Mabry got the outer hatch to open while blocking the closure of the inner hatch. The black-suited marines, each of whom carried a laser rifle, a revolver
Similar Books
