Fuminrahi

By R.C. Huff

This heart racing sci-fi adventure follows Ashton Warrington, the crew chief of a team of hell bent mercenaries working for the Galactic Consortium - or anyone who can afford thier services - as they travel the galaxy leaving a trail of bodies from planet to planet until discovering a harvester ship that has been consuming the entire population of planets at the edge of the core systems. With the help of the Gat-Lashan, Ash and his team set out to end the threat of the harvester ship and project Fuminrahi once and for all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.C. Huff
• Release date: Apr 26, 2011
• ISBN: 9781458181701

R.C. Huff

R.C. Huff works and lives in Dallas, TX. A man of moderate means he works for the corporate machine, assisting businesses in their various endeavors while dreaming of a quiet and comfortable life behind a keyboard, putting his various fictional conceptions to digital print.

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Fuminrahi

R.C. Huff

Published by Robert Huff

Smashwords Edition

Copyright © 2011 Robert Huff

all rights reserved

http://www.fuminrahi.com

This book is also available in print at most online retailers

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DEDICATION

To the Universe

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I’d like to thank my family and friends, whose ongoing support has seen me through tragedy and joy alike and inspired me in my many endeavors including this, the first of hopefully many literary works to come.

Table of Contents

Part 1

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Part 2

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Part 1

Chapter 1

"The High Altitude Deployment or H.A.D. system, chimes a lovely electronic female voice, is the pinnacle of all rapid atmospheric deployment systems, utilizing classified technologies to achieve superior ground unit drop times. Any cargo class, military grade transport ship can deploy the H.A.D. unit with little modification. The H.A.D. system in transit scaffold deploys the intermediary confine from a range of altitudes extended to as far as the upper atmosphere for most oxygenated environments. Once the intermediary confine is deployed, its guidance system enables it to follow a predetermined flight path with 99.997% integrity. At 800 feet, the intermediary confine undergoes quick disassembly, ejecting its three walls, and utilizing its structure carriage to transform into the deceleration unit. Controlled burns from high efficiency propulsion thrusters, positioned at each of the three drag bars, both slow the speed of decent while maintaining adherence to the predetermined flight path. The ground unit touches down at its exact destination with minimal impact."

Ashton Warrington recalls the mission briefing as he bounces off a cliff face more than two kilometers away from his exact destination. The drag bars, spinning furiously above his head, spew flames in all the wrong directions, then shortly break apart to leave him to guide his own descent for the remainder of his drop. He hits the ground, hard, near the base of the cliff, rolling down a gentle slope plagued with sharp rocks and thorny bush. Finally coming to a stop, he opens his eyes into the direct and punishingly brutal light of the bright Omega 9 midday sun.

Minimal impact, my ass, Ash exclaims under his breath.

Ash rises from the ground, inspects his numerous but superficial injuries, and pulls a locator from one of the many external compartments built into his battle gear. He needs to locate Toshiro Neguzumo, his information officer and second in command, as quickly as possible. Toshiro is in possession of all the necessary equipment to locate his team’s primary--as well as ancillary--objectives and without it, without him, they will not succeed.

Toshiro’s location beacon is more than four kilometers away, but his blue mortality indicator burns bright. A good sign, all things considered. The rest of the team and hardware drops are scattered haphazardly around the canyon, and Ash pockets the locator, intent on making his way to Toshiro and picking up his soldiers as they make their way towards his path. The rest of the team knows where he’d be headed and will make every effort to meet him as quickly as possible. They are well-trained and accustomed to these types of missions--those requiring radio silence and an instinctive intuition for dealing with unexpected yet inevitable hiccups in other wise well-conceived strategic insertions--but their history of irreverence for protocol and authority fails to leave Ash with a high sense of confidence.

Ash raises his digital field binoculars and scans the edge of the canyon walls, looking for potential threats. The local refugees that have been resorting to violence in order to prevent the major mining consortium, Mineragistics, from establishing a base of operations on Omega 9 might already be converging on their position. Inside the canyon is the worst place they could find themselves in the event of an ambush.

Ash takes another look at his locator to verify the status of his spread out team before moving towards Toshiro’s beacon. He shoulders his weapon and moves along a path intended to minimize his exposure, and after carefully traversing approximately half a click he comes upon Gunner and Moose loping across the canyon floor in his general direction. Ash can tell they haven’t seen him yet and he’s disappointed at their complete and utter disregard for the potential danger surrounding them.

Ash kicks some stones around at his feet before choosing the perfect candidate for a collision with Moose’s head.

Shit!

Moose does an aggravated little dance with one hand up against the side of his head while Gunner scans the immediate surroundings with his gun sights. Ash allows him to see his position and Gunner lowers his weapon.

Get down, Ash barks, Any scouts in the area picked your position long ago, dip shits!

Fuck, Ash, Moose argues, we’re practically on the opposite side of the planet from any known sentient life. It’ll take two days in the skimmer to get anywhere near our first objective!

According to Mission Intelligence, that’s correct. But you can see how well Intelligence was able to predict the performance of our new H.A.D. units. We have no idea what is actually out here, Ash states.

Gunner chimes in with, Ah, you worry too much, boss…

Suddenly gunfire erupts from behind an outcrop of rocks roughly half a click away. The dysfunctional trio hits the ground and snaps their weapons to attention, scanning for a target. Gunner looks behind him at Ash and shrugs. Ash gives them a hand signal, indicating they should stay put and keeps their mouths shut, before stealthily crouch-walking a lengthy parabolic path towards the origin of the fire to maximize the advantage of his approach. Gunner and Moose glance at each other nervously just as Ash disappears from sight.

BARGE!!! WHAT THE FUCK!!?

Gunner and Moose bolt towards the scene just in time to see the last puffs of smoke coming from four bullet holes in some creature resembling a cross between a horse and a dog.

What?

Gunner and Moose burst out laughing, knowing full well what was on Barge’s mind.

Seriously…what? Barge asks again, We’re gonna be on this planet quite a while, might as well get used to the local cuisine.

YOU ARE THE SORRIEST BUNCH OF MERCENERIES THE GALAXY HAS EVER SHIT OUT! Ash barks, breaking radio silence. Everyone, make your way to my position. Gather any gear that happens to be on your way. Gunner and Moose will be collecting the rest.

This draws an audible groan from the two irresponsible soldiers of fortune.

And dinner should be ready in about two hours.

***

The seemingly ever present rattling of chains permeates Ash’s brain as the roaring screams of a dying multitude rumbles in the distance. The earth beneath his feet cracks and spews fire into the sky.

Ash wakes with a start, sweat pouring from his brow. He groans and looks to the stars above his head, then glances to check and see if Dudley is sleeping during his watch. Dudley gives Ash a lazy, almost sarcastic, salute and Ash is relieved to see someone doing their duty.

Ash rolls out of his slumber and meanders to Dudley’s position.

Get a few more hours of sleep, soldier, I’ll take the watch from here.

Ash’s ever-present dreams haunt him on a nightly basis; they are a constant threat to his peace of mind and always leaving him just shy of fully rested. Every member of his team is plagued with similar nightmares, presumably an aftereffect from their involvement in the Galactic war that had held all humankind in the grip of violence and upheaval for the better part of two decades. Once again, he ponders his dreams’ possible meanings, pouring over his memories to try to determine the exact source of the disturbing nightmares. As usual, Ash fails to reach any meaningful conclusion.

The sun is rising over the horizon, and the depressing sky, like urine swilled with jet fuel, begins to take on the colors of day. Omega 9, a dusty little planet at the far end of the galaxy, is inhabited by criminals and outcasts, many of them refugees from the war who spend their time touting the outdated concepts of freedom, individuality and republic. If life has taught the human race anything, it is that violence is the ultimate and inevitable answer to any conflict of interest, and the capability to inflict greater violence than those who would oppose you defines the powerbase of every economy in the galaxy. There’s no room for idealism anymore; the ultra-powerful, even god-like personalities controlling commerce had seen to that once and for all when they had eliminated the sovereignty of the last free planet--along with any semblance of a middle class--in a twenty-year civil war. The only ways to escape from veiled slavery are the secondary markets, which are primarily driven by crime, or to kill for the major corporations.

That is what Ash and his team does and, despite their irreverence for command and sloppy methods, they are good at it. When the fuel hits the flame, they each perform like well-oiled machines carrying death in their pockets, each one a veteran of the war…each with nothing left in the galaxy but the violence and the coin that violence affords.

The primary target for this mission is a woman named Shuriha. Apparently aware of the goldmine she is sitting on, Shuriha has somehow managed to mobilize the disorganized refugees into a group of would-be warriors capable of effectively thwarting Mineragistics’ attempts at colonization. Omega 9, as undesirable a planet as it is, happens to have the galaxy’s richest deposit of cathetiphenoshene, an element discovered shortly after the inception of the FTL drive. While this particular mineral, in and of itself, isn’t widely marketable, it is a key component in the refinement process of beryllium crystal, an extremely rare element used to power the teleportation systems typically reserved for the ultra elite or military applications. Large deposits of cathetiphenoshene like this one are difficult to find and of high value to firms like Mineragistics.

Barge rolls over, off of his makeshift mat of leaves and dirt, and groggily scratches his distended belly. Dimly aware that Ash is watching him, he opens one glassy before he groans audibly and snaps to his feet.

Making a show of your morning ritual as usual, I see, Ash states emotionlessly.

Gotta find the motivation somewhere. We got any more of that roast beast left?

You didn’t get enough last night? You ate more than Gunner did and I didn’t think that was possible.

All things are possible for those who believe, Barge drawls irreverently.

Wake up the rest of the crew; I’m going to scout the ridge. Have the skimmer ready to go by the time I get back."

Fucko yesserree, Cap.

***

The transport skimmer is built like four giant cows tied together and handles almost as well, and Barge pilots it across the orange desert landscape with little regard for safety. In fact, he seems