Sileise Raided: Mallory Sajean 1.5 - Space Opera and Action

By Philippe Mercurio

A simple stopover becomes a dogged battle!

In search of some rest and relaxation, Mallory Sajean comes alongside a space station. She discovers a battlefield and a hostage taking in progress. Despite the risks, she joins up with a squad of police officers who are going to give it their all...

While facing fanatical aliens and cyborgs, Mallory learns that she'll have to defeat a legendary creature: a Sorfal...

Sileise Raided takes place between the first and second books in the MALLORY SAJEAN science fiction series. If you like space opera, action, exotic worlds, and colorful characters, you'll love Mallory!

Read Sileise Raided and experience a heart-pounding adventure!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nogartha.com
• Release date: Dec 12, 2019
• ISBN: 9791097258047

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Copyright © 2017 by Philippe Mercurio

All rights reserved

ISBN: 9791097258047

First published in France : April 2017

Translated from French to English by Michele Rosen

US Editor: Parisa Zolfaghari

I

ULTIMATUM

WHILE docking at the space station, a barely perceptible vibration ran along the surface of the Sirgan, Mallory Sajean’s transport ship. She shot out of the cockpit and hurtled through the narrow gangway spanning her ship to get to the airlock. As soon as the air pressure leveled out, the door opened onto complete chaos.

The docks bore signs of recent explosions. Half-burned debris was strewn across the floor. A container full of food had been smashed to bits, and the bitter smell of melted plastic was mixed with that of the scattered food. Black streaks stained many of the metal walls. The inside of the station stretched out on each side, displaying the same spectacle for hundreds of yards. With growing concern, Mallory noticed the complete absence of life, when such a place should have been swarming with people. Brilliant! she exclaimed. I picked the wrong place again…

She was reaching for the airlock controls when an alien with dark, glistening skin emerged from a corridor she could have sworn was empty a second ago. Endowed with a spherical body, it looked like a giant tadpole without a tail, a huge ball whose arms and legs were shaped like long, articulated rods. Limbs that almost seemed too fragile to hold up its weight. With just a few strides in the low gravity, he threw himself at her and shoved an arm under her chin.

You! Come with me! he hissed through the translator box attached near his mouth. He waved his antique revolver to indicate that she should take him seriously.

Mallory, who had encountered armed and aggressive creatures before, studied him carefully. His disproportionate face extended over his bulbous anatomy, emphasizing the alien’s amphibious appearance. In other words, his face was a good three-feet wide, and his pale, yellow eyes were as big as dinner plates. Under a pair of monstrous nasal cavities, an equally disproportionate toad’s mouth completed the picture.

A Maslik. Mallory was astonished: what was a species that detested technology doing on a space station?

Even though the alien towered over the human by at least a foot, she seemed more solid than he did. Encased in a black flight suit, her silhouette, both muscled and feminine, indicated the diligent practice of a combat sport. Her rolled-up sleeves exposed the tattoos covering her forearms and the backs of her hands: interlacing brambles against a backdrop of pale skin.

Obey, female Earthling! insisted the belligerent alien.

Translator box or not, his tone of voice was scornful. Anger etched the young woman’s face, framed by black hair. Brows furrowed, her dark eyed gaze met that of her aggressor, And if I…

The crack of a gunshot interrupted her. In front of her, the Maslik collapsed. Dead. From one side of the cadaver, green liquid poured from an inch-wide hole. From the other, the bullet exited, creating an opening ten times as large, from which the alien’s guts emerged.

Mallory quickly scanned the station from end to end. She spotted a shadow moving toward her ship. A shadow with a rifle. Not wanting to become the sniper’s next victim, she decided to avoid direct contact for now. With a tap on the control panel, she closed the airlock. The atmosphere re-equalized, and she was able to return to the interior of her ship. Climbing up the principal gangway in the direction of the cockpit, she barked, Jazz! Connect to the station network. A major battle must’ve happened here, and the survivors are playing ‘shoot-first-ask-questions-later,’ but there must be someone left with enough sense to tell us what’s going on.

Clear and harmonious, a masculine voice emanated from the bank of on-board loudspeakers, Sorry, captain, but I don’t have access. Also, the docking clamps are locked. We’re trapped.

A human brain encased in the ship’s management systems, Jazz played the role of co-pilot and central processing unit. He represented a rare category: that of Natural Intelligences, or NI, in contrast to conventional AI.