Zero Magnitude: Galaxy Mavericks, #3

By Michael La Ronn

Her mission is simple: dismantle the biggest human trafficking operation in the galaxy.

For Special Agent Devika Sharma, it's not her normal line of work, but it's personal. So much that she would risk her job for justice.

When she hunts down the kingpin of the operations, he shoots her ship out of space. She crashes on a deadly jungle planet with no food or water.

And there's a deadly foe on her trail.

Zero Magnitude is the third book in the Galaxy Mavericks space opera series by Michael La Ronn.

 

V1.0

• Language: English
• Publisher: Author Level Up LLC
• Release date: Mar 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781540138545

Michael La Ronn

Science fiction and fantasy on the wild side! Michael La Ronn is the author of many science fiction and fantasy novels including The Last Dragon Lord, Android X, and Eaten series. In 2012, a life-threatening illness made him realize that storytelling was his #1 passion. He’s devoted his life to writing ever since, making up whatever story makes him fall out of his chair laughing the hardest. Every day. To get updates when he releases new work + other bonuses, sign up by visiting www.michaellaronn.com/list

Book preview

1

"R un faster, Devi!"

The trees blurred by as Devika Sharma ran barefoot through the dark forests of Coppice. Thunder shook the ground and the rain fell in great drenching slants.

She wore plastic beads around her wrists, and they shook in frenzied rhythm with her steps.

She didn’t know how much faster she could run. She hated the never-ending trees, the shadows, the wetness.

She could hardly see.

Come on! a little boy’s voice shouted.

And then she spotted a dark hand reaching out for her.

Rajinder—a little boy her age. Nine or ten. His black hair was matted in a wet clump over his face, and his red cricket jersey was soaked.

He grabbed her hand forcefully.

We have to keep going! he cried.

Devika found renewed strength and followed him. His hand was wet and slippery.

They slid down a muddy path. The mud went up to Devi’s ankles. Her feet burned from running across soil and rock.

Then the ground sloped upward again. They climbed a small foothill as if it were a mountain. Twice Devika slid backward, but Rajinder grabbed her and pulled her up. They used the trees as support, clawing through the mud until they reached the top of the hill.

Through the broken trees, they spotted a soup of orange lights blinking in the darkness like bokeh from an unfocused camera.

We’re almost there, Rajinder said.

Do you think he’s still following us? Devika asked, panting.

She looked back. The forest was as dark as the night. The brownish white trees were dull in the rain, like rows of evil teeth.

Too hard to tell, Rajinder said, hands on his knees. You going to be okay?

She leaned on his shoulder to catch her breath. If it’s just a little while longer, I’ll—

A squeal stopped her.

She whimpered as Rajinder grabbed her.

The ground shook, this time from another kind of thunder. Not too far off, several thick trees snapped like twigs.

And then snorting.

Sniffing.

And more squealing. Guttural, gut-wrenching squealing.

Devi fell face-first into the mud. She pulled herself up but slid forward, her back hitting a tree.

The beads on her wrist got stuck on a branch. She tried to untangle them, but the smooth surface of the beads was covered in mud.

Rajinder helped her up.

Let the beads go, he said.

She clutched them close to her chest. She couldn’t let them go. Not the last traces she had of her mother and father. Without them, she’d have nothing to remember them by.

No! she cried. It’s the only thing I have from my parents!

You’ve got your memories, Rajinder said. It’s more than I have of my parents.

Please, don’t take them!

Devi, they’re making too much noise! Rajinder said. He ripped the beads off her wrist, and she screamed as they landed in the mud.

She dove for the beads, but before she could grab them, a black boot stomped the ground, covering them.

Boots.

The smell of strong musk, body odor and crusted sweat.

Devi looked up slowly, past the boots, past the potbelly covered in leather and rings, past the chains and shackles hanging from a belt, past the chainsaw gripped by two bulky arms… to the face of an Argus.

A pink-skinned pig with floppy ears, a silver ring in his nose, and two sawed off, broken tusks. Its orange eyes were like fire in the rain, and it snarled at them as it revved its chainsaw.

Devi and Rajinder screamed.

Devi jumped up and found herself on her feet, running down the hill as the Argus swiped the chainsaw at her.

She glanced back.

The beads had sunk into the mud.

Gone forever.

She wiped away tears as she ran, following Rajinder between trees.

The Argus squealed as it ran after them.

The trees tumbled in the pig’s wake, the chainsaw’s roar louder than the squealing.

Bok, bok, bok, bok! the Argus said.

Rajinder tripped over a broken branch. Devi bumped into him and they both fell to the ground, tangled in each other. They scrambled up, holding hands.

Bok! the Argus cried.

What’s he saying? Devi asked.

Who cares! Rajinder said.

The city isn’t far, she said, pointing through the trees. As soon as we get out of the trees, the police will see us, and—

The Argus squealed again and the two children yelled, running side-by-side.

The rain fell harder and faster now. The thunder growled. The chainsaw whirred and screamed. The Argus’s footsteps quaked the ground below them. The slanted trees looked like they were about to fall over.

Lightning struck, illuminating the forest ahead for a split second.

We’re almost out! Rajinder said.

One more hill… one more slant downward.

And then the sound of rushing water. Like a river.

A creek had flooded, and a river of sticks, rocks and debris intersected their path.

No! Devi said, tears in her eyes.

We’ve got to swim, Rajinder said.

Behind them, the Argus cut his way through the trees, and they toppled in his wake.

Devi froze. I-I can’t swim.

What do you mean you can’t swim? Rajinder asked.

I never learned.

The Argus reached them. Lightning struck again, and its yellow teeth gleamed in the rain.

Bok-bok pa-bwok.

Rajinder took Devi into a hug.

I won’t leave you, Devi.

She hugged him back and closed her eyes.

She couldn't lose him.

He was the only one who understood her. He wasn't even her brother, yet in these past nine months he'd acted like one as they lived like paupers in the streets.

The Argus turned off the chainsaw and cast it into the mud. It motioned for them to come.

Leave us alone! Rajinder said.

The pig motioned for them again.

Bok bok chain bok, the pig said, unhooking the chains from his belt.

You’re not going to take us! Rajinder said.

Branches snapped. Water splashed.

Rajinder gasped. Devi, who had her head nustled against his chest, heard his heart skip a beat.

Two more Arguses emerged from the woods, grunting and snorting.

I won’t let you take us, Rajinder said, grabbing a stick.

Devi grabbed his arm. Raj, don’t—

Devi, run. And don’t look back.

The boy ran at the Arguses, yelling.

Devi screamed as the Argus backhanded him, sending him into a nearby tree.

I told you to run! Rajinder said, sliding down the bark.

An Argus grabbed him by the ankle and slammed him on the ground, knocking him unconscious.

Raj!

The tears came. Her entire body trembled.

Her heart raced. She backed away as the three Arguses approached her, grinning.

She had to do something.

Behind, the orange lights of the city glowed. She wished she were there.

She wished someone would save her.

She took several more steps back.

Her feet landed in water.

Rushing water.

The river. It flowed behind her, impenetrable and strong.

The Arguses laughed at her. On the ground, Rajinder lay unconscious.

I hate you! Devi shouted to the pigs.

She turned and dove into the water.

She held her breath, but water entered her nose and mouth.

She speared her arms and legs at the water like she’d seen other people do. She kicked her legs rapidly, imagining them propelling her forward.

She wished she could be like a fish or a dolphin or anything that would carry her across the water and back to the city where she would be safe and warm and protected.

But her throat filled with water.

Her nose burned.

And then she felt two thick, leathery hands on her ankles.

The Arguses pulled her out of the water.

She screamed as a net collapsed around her. She grasped the net with her fingers as the pigs dragged her away, the orange lights of the city growing dimmer through the trees and the rain.

Her screaming was cut short when the Arguses slammed her head into a rock.

Devika woke up panting and covered in sweat.

Her long black hair hung down in unruly strands across her eyes.

She was in her bed. In her spaceship. In a cramped living quarter with no window and brown walls.

She wasn’t a little girl anymore.

But she felt like it.

She put her hand to her head. Parting her hair, she fingered a round, boulder-like scar where the scalp met the hairline.

She rolled out of bed and fell to the carpeted floor. Sputtering, she crawled into the bathroom and ran the faucet. She splashed water on her face and looked at herself in the mirror.

She was twenty-nine years old and the nightmares still tormented her.

She gripped the bathroom sink and shook. Her legs trembled.

Then she punched the glass, screaming loudly as she cracked it.

She dressed.

Jeans tucked into a GALPOL-issue blouse. She tied her hair up into a bun.

The humidity in the spaceship overnight had been unbearable. She was sweating like she had never sweated before.

The air-conditioning was gone, ruined in the crash. She was grateful she still had water.

She grabbed her black trench coat from the base of the bed and wrapped it around her waist.

Then she loaded her handcoil magazine carefully and methodically and hooked the gun onto her belt.

Computer, are you online? she asked.

No answer.

Computer was still down.

Damn, she said.

She exited her bedroom into the hallway of the ship. The acrid smell of smoke stung her nostrils.

The ship listed to one side, and somewhere, metal creaked and groaned.

A steel door covered a rectangular window in the hallway. She inspected it, sighing with relief when she determined that it had held and hadn’t been tampered with.

She had placed it there last night to stop someone—or