It Came From Hyperspace!

By R.Wade Hodges

Lions of the Empire Brand Pipe Tobacco & Terminus Olde Fashion Washing Powders present:

IT CAME FROM HYPERSPACE!

A science-fiction story of the FUTURE!
Filled with:
ACTION!
DANGER!
EXCITEMENT!
Join Captain Iddeth Lark and her motley crew of stalwart soldiers as they brave the perils on the Darkedge of the known Universe! THRILL to the exciting discoveries made on planet Levitt-4! FEAR the unknown surprises that await them in orbit! FEEL your heart race at the PULSE POUNDING fight against DEATH! Be in the middle of it all with the Violent 9’s in this first novelization of their OUT OF THIS WORLD adventures inspired by the Legion: The Game RPG system!

An incredible tale of heroism against all odds! THIEVES, SPACE ZOMBIES, MONSTERS and MORE! Grab your Laser Gun, strap on your Rocket Pack and get ready to BLAST INTO ADVENTURE!

• Language: English
• Publisher: R.Wade Hodges
• Release date: Aug 31, 2017
• ISBN: 9781370632695

R.Wade Hodges

I'm not actually a giant nuclear turtle, I just play one on TV.

Book preview

It Came From Hyperspace!

A Violent Tale

Based on Legion: The Game

Written by R.Wade Hodges

Cover Design & Art by Richard Glosson

Copyright 2017

Published by Lions of the Empire & Terminus Productions at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this creative team.

This book is a work of fiction. All contents, places and things are used with permission from Terminus Productions. Characters introduced in this work are shared property of Terminus Productions and Lions of the Empire. As a work of fiction, any similarity that may exist between the content of these pages and real things is purely coincidental.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

01: The 909

02: Planetfall

03: LV-3A

04: Burn Protocol

05: Firing Position

06: The Jarvendall

07: Debts

08: Triggered

09: C07N

10: Timing

11: And…?

909 File Cards

Epilogue

About the Creators

Connect with the Lions of the Empire

Connect with Terminus Productions

Acknowledgements

First and foremost, Wade would like to thank Richard at Terminus Productions for the opportunity to play around in the Legion sandbox. It’s wildly imaginative he hopes that the existing Legion fans have as much reading it as he had writing it. He would also like to thank Lions of the Empire for their editing help and the supportive suggestions of the few beta-readers of the original draft. No acknowledgements would be complete without thanks to Wade’s supportive family. They are the best.

Richard would like to acknowledge Wade. We’ve known each other for years and much like knowing people for such a long time, we have orbits in those elliptical ways where we come into contact then fade away, but always return. I am very excited that we can once again create together. It’s not the first time we have collaborated on joint worlds and once again, hopefully, won't be the last. Thank you.

Most of all, we thank you the readers and hope you enjoy this story: a small glimpse into the wide, weird, wonderful world of Legion: The Game.

Rich & Wade

01: The 909

The ship's approach kept them in the shadow of the dark side of the planet. They were still far enough away to make it look, at least from the porthole, like the world was on fire.

Looks like you survived another cryo.

Hesh turned away from the view, towards the voice of his Captain. Iddeth Lark was tapping out something on the data console imbedded into her arm, probably a confirmation that Hesh was thawed out. Cryostasis wasn't real sleep, though, and it wasn't unusual for some folks to want to take a long nap after the thaw.

I always feel like I need a long hot shower, even after I've had a couple, Hesh confessed, sipping on a mug of bitter caffei. Everyone else up?

The Captain was Dee, typically known for their blue skin and their unbridled optimism. Iddeth at least had the blue skin, the color of a warm afternoon sky. Her rank required a certain lack of frivolity, but Hesh knew that even without her rank, she was unlikely to be the kind of mischievous prankster popular culture vids made the Dee out to be.

Everyone's up. We'll be approaching orbital insertion in the next hour or so. Head to the cafeteria once you've finished here. We're using it as a meeting room, Iddeth informed him. Hesh nodded as she slipped away from the door and out of sight.

Hesh set the mug of caffei down as he went about the business of confirming his equipment was in proper working order. Knives were tucked into his belt, shoulder sheath and a final one in his boot. It never hurt to have a good knife and Hesh was fond of being prepared. He holstered his sidearm and moved to collect his carbine, but paused at the table in his quarters, picking up the small bottle of painkillers first. He popped two of them in his mouth and washed them down with the last of his drink before securing the bottle in one of the accessory pouches on his belt.

He caught sight of himself in the small metal mirror fixed over the steel sink a few feet away. He saw more gray in his hair now, more obvious in his mustache and the shaggy strip of hair across the top of his head rather than the sides he shaved down.

You're getting old, Gunnel, he allowed himself to confess with a whisper. Refusing to reflect on it for long, Hesh picked up his rifle and made his way out into the hall, a cramped environment that seemed to groan and hiss at him in regular intervals.

The Jarvendall was not built for comfort. It was a civilian cargo ship that his unit, the 909, had acquired for this mission. The Violent 9's was the label one of the United Defense Force Generals had given this particular Legion company and it was something they decided to own proudly. Usually Legion companies were formed for specific goals or special missions, a collection of elite soldiers chosen from across the six branches of the standard UDF forces.

The 909, however had a less prestigious history. It was named after the number of the section they added to the Legion Charter allowing military prisoners or those pending dishonorable discharge from the other conventional United Defence Forces branches a final option to serve.  It was originally formed for a single mission that had never had an expectation of success,  just one of several desperate contingencies in play at the end of the Grimm War. The original 909 weren't responsible for any decisive outcome, but they did manage not to completely die, either.

After an impassioned pitch by the original Captain, citing their survival against overwhelming odds, they were allowed to remain together. Retooled into a last chance squad for UDF failures, a place where those too troublesome for regular duty had a chance to regain some favor by taking on missions too boring or too dangerous for normal units. It was a dumping ground to rid of problematic soldiers.

Hesh was one of those last chances, and so was everyone else on this run-down wreck they had flown out to the fringe of the galaxy. At the end of the hallway, he took the lift up one floor to the cafeteria.

There was a light amount of chatter from those assembled, and Iddeth was at the front, trying to coax some functionality out of a failing holoprojector. The patchwork projector was a perfect analogy for their unit, a mess of different parts thrown together until something worked. His squad was made up of a large sample of diverse rejects from all over the galaxy. Hesh was angling for a seat in the middle.

His squad was large, larger than many of the squads in the larger 909 company, mostly due to the weight of Iddeth’s influence and the kind of missions they were assigned. Hesh couldn’t help but feel that sometimes keeping up personal relations with them all was a bit too much of a chore, given their low odds of survival on runs like this, but Hesh actually found himself liking them… most of them at least.

Mommy, I lost a toof! The voice was coming from a datapad and a small boy's face was threatening to fill up the whole screen until a small girl shoved him out of the way.

Mommy, Keif took my Gunsuit model! the girl accused.

Marji, I can't help you find your model now, said the soldier holding the datapad. Talk to Daddy.

Marji's a butthead, Keif yelled from the background.

Domestic problems, Kelli? Hesh asked. Looking up from her datapad for a minute Kelli Vith made a pained face at him. She'd dyed her customary chelsea cut a hot purple and had some of the fringe held back with brightly colored clips.

I am glad to be a mother, but I would rather run into enemy fire than get between those two, she said.

Hi Hesh! Marji yelled from the datapad. Keif echoed her from behind.

Hey guys, Hesh said, leaning down over Kelli's shoulder. If you promise to listen to your Dad while we're gone, I'll bring something back with me.

A robot? Marji asked.

A gun? Keif asked.

Pleeeeeeeease! they both added in unison.

These are totally your kids, Hesh chuckled. Kelli stuck out her tongue at him as he continued on. He noticed Kulder had been watching their exchange.

Kulder was a Darsithian, heads taller than anyone else in the room. Her crimson hair was braided tightly against her scalp and a few streaks of freshly applied combat black glare-reducing paste were applied under her eyes, a stark contrast on her pale orange skin.

Trying to understand human family dynamics? Hesh asked. Kulder looked up at him and nodded once.

Best of luck, two ex-wives later I still don't, he chuckled. She wrinkled her brow, as if his off the cuff remark merited further thought. Kulder was quiet and generally calm, but supposedly the reason she'd been recently transferred to the 909 was for an unchecked temper. Hesh hadn't seen that yet, but given the Darsithian's size and love of heavy weapons, his only wish was not that she had one, but rather that it could be properly directed.

You trying for wife number three? asked Chels Kegbreaker from the table ahead of Kelli and Kulder. Chels was Deurgish, short and thick like most of his people and with a beard like a tangled mop. He was the ship's medic, the man who kept Hesh in painkillers without overdramatizing his reliance on them like many doctors would. Chels was a former associate of the Captain's from a while back, and had never officially been part of the UDF.

The story was that he’d accepted Iddeth's invitation to join the 909 rather than serve time for a series of drunken brawls that tended to end with him punching out local lawmen. The only condition she'd set for him was that he had to remain more sober than drunk, which with him was hard to confirm.

Chels claimed that he had records and charts keeping track of it all, even though he was rarely seen without his favorite drinking mug. However he managed it, Hesh had both seen and been the recipient of the extraordinary care performed by the Deurgish's thick but skilled hands. As long as he produced results, no one seemed to press too hard on what was in the mug at any given time.

Wife three?... Oh, you mean Kulder? Nah, she's a good kid, but a bit too young for me to marry, Hesh replied with a smile.

And too big, right? She'd break you for sure, said Tam Mar'Hil. One of the more recent additions to the 909, he had a reputation for showing up where he wasn't wanted and snooping around where he shouldn't.

Like all Siomhaens, he was covered with fur, mostly black for him, save for a large white spot around his mouth and throat as well as both his feet. Hesh had been the one to start calling him Socks and the name stuck, much to Tam's dislike. Socks had been determined to get the better of Hesh ever since then, an awkward rivalry that existed mostly in his own mind.