Pigmossium

By Chris Needs

Greedy gangsters trap each other into a fatal showdown while MAMPA agents help Theropods escape from their flooded planet.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Chris Needs
• Release date: Sep 17, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301905959

Chris Needs

Chris was born in London 1947, moved to South Africa in 1972 and now lives in Botswana with his wife Shynie and their eight year old daughter Angela Simolola. Chris is fascinated by the possibilities science presents to us but hates the rigidity of the "scientific method" especially the agressive denunciation by most scientists of anything resembling man's spiritual component or the possibility of an overarching, creator being.

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Pigmossium

Published by Chris Needs at Smashwords

Copyright © 2013 Christopher John Needs

http://www.cjneeds.com/

Thank you for trying my short story!

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— Chris Needs

This is a work of fiction. All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, living or dead or otherwise, is purely coincidental. __________________________

The first settler ship erupted in a ball of fire and Mosha Mosha shook his head as if to re-adjust his eyes. No mistaking it, red hot debris spewing in all directions.

Whose ship was that?

It would have been Gravey's or Silons'. The shock paralysed him momentarily. Then he swung around and shouted, Shields!

Insufficient power to activate all shields, the computer's voice droned.

Front shields then?

Sixty-five percent. Enabling.

He turned to his Armasergeant and saw shock written all over her face. Tiffany, he called her. She turned to look at him, her eyes still focussed at some point in the distance.

Tiffany, he called again, what hit that ship?

She turned back to her console.

Y-pin magmissile from Yaw defence.

Damn, Mosha said, didn't we tell them we're coming in peace?

Yeah, we told them. But another eighteen mags are on their way.

Mosha swung back round to face the outviewer, just in time to see the next missile strike. The ball of flame hit his mind like a physical blow to his head and he winced visibly.

Tell them again, he shouted, before they eliminate us.

As Tiffany said Got it, a pressure pulse forced the air from their lungs and flattened them against their seats. Their forward shields must have absorbed the Y-pin meant for them.

After Mosha's eyes re-focussed he saw another fifteen flashes confirm Tiffany's incoming missile count. Of those, twelve more settler ships disappeared in fireballs and debris outshowers. Four ships survived the initial onslaught. Thankfully the rest of the fleet was far behind them. Mosha