Fighting Chance Books 1-3 Boxset: Fighting Chance Space Opera Series

By S. H. Miah

A new space opera series from S. H. Miah. Fast action and tense moments wrap over a narrative spanning a galactic war for the ages.

 

This boxset features Book 1, Book 2, and Book 3 of dizzying space opera from S. H. Miah in the Fighting Chance series. Follow a thrilling story of galactic battles and tension galore, with the first three books now in one volume for you to enjoy.

 

A brand new space opera series from S. H. Miah, each book designed to be read in a single sitting. If galactic warfare and tense action sound like your cup of tea, then Khaled's story is not one you wish to miss.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Muslim Fiction Project
• Release date: Sep 14, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223756590

Book preview

Fighting Chance Book 1-3 Boxset

Fighting Chance Book 1

Fighting Chance Book 2

Fighting Chance Book 3

S. H. Miah

Muslim Fiction Project

Copyright © 2023 by S. H. Miah

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This publication is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Contents

Fighting Chance Book 1

Contents

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

Fighting Chance Book 2

Contents

Disclaimer

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2

3

4

5

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8

9

10

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Fighting Chance Book 3

Contents

Disclaimer

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5

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9

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Newsletter

About S. H. Miah

About MFP

Fighting Chance Book 1

S. H. Miah

Muslim Fiction Project

Copyright © 2023 by S. H. Miah

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This publication is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Contents

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

1

Commander Khaled Malik surveyed the troops aboard the HunterShip. They were each seated, deadly still, nerves wracking despite steely exteriors, the best fighters he knew, his men and women that had survived thick and thin and the downright dangerous.

And now they were here for a final mission. To end the entire war. To end the fighting. To end the bloodshed and heartbreak and pain of twenty years.

Each agent dressed in a primasuit—highly protective suits made from carbon fibre and solid steel, tempered to make them lighter and easier to walk around and, more importantly, fight in. Strapped to holsters on their belts were different arrays of plasma weapons, grenades, and the odd knife in case it was needed.

The suit extended from neck to toe, with an extra helmet added when out in the field. For now, though, it wasn’t needed, and everyone sought the space to breathe in preparation for what they were about to accomplish.

Khaled looked around the boardroom of the HunterShip, saw faces of those he’d almost died with, and, in his mind’s eye, the faces of those who'd perished in the war. Fighting for humanity, fighting to protect those they’d sworn to serve.

Scottie Jenson sat on the far side, his thousand yard stare almost tearing a hole in the spaceship’s hull. His gaze was set, jaw clenched harder than a shotgun’s trigger. His blue eyes were dull from years of fighting, years of seeing horrors in the field.

Adil Rahman was beside him, glancing around but meeting no one’s eye. A fierce warrior who was soft around the edges, like a heart with a steel core. And a fellow Muslim like Khaled. They both prayed that Allah allowed their mission to succeed.

Two spaces down from him was Veronica Beasly, or Very as the rest of the squad opted to call her. A system’s extraordinaire with laser focus, yet in the field she had an x-ray like awareness that couldn’t be matched by anyone else on the squad.

The rest of the troops were newer to the squad, yet each was an elite warrior, hardened over hundreds of battles that would end today if Khaled had anything to do about it.

From Habiba to Andy to Rafe to Horus, they all had a part to play. Khaled may have been the leader, but he was far from a lone wolf.

They were all special forces after all, called The Hunters—the best of the best, the cream of the crop. Specially sanctioned by New Earth to fight those who posed a threat outside, and protect the people of earth from invaders.

The HunterShip’s walls were sleek, made from fine grey metal that shone like a second sun and absorbed bullets as a sponge absorbed water. Khaled breathed in the antiseptic smell that had taken to floating through the ship’s halls over the last few days of travelling, of preparing. As if everything was being washed by their mission, a clean slate for humanity and their enemies to make peace.

At least, as much as peace was possible.

Khaled took his own seat on the far side away from his comrades, and shoved his gaze into the floor of the Huntership. The spotless metal there was ridged, creating the perfect friction for heavy boots to slide across. The ridges were spaced evenly apart to allow for the thrusters attached to the boots not to get caught at the bottom.

Other spaceships didn’t have those ridges. Other spaceships that were owned by humanity’s enemies—the Konx. The species they were going to fight.

That meant their thrusters were either an asset, or a liability.

And they were about to find out very, very soon.

Feeling restless, legs bouncing against the lightness of his primasuit, Khaled turned to one of the ship’s diagnostic engineers seated in the cockpit.

Stat on the ETA, Khaled ordered, to which Janny replied thirty minutes.

ETA in thirty minutes, agents, Khaled announced to the squad, before taking his seat again. His legs started bouncing almost immediately.

Khaled couldn’t take thirty more minutes of this vicious tension slicing his resolve. He needed to stop the war, win the war, and fulfil his mother’s final wish, achieving his own personal redemption in the process.

And he prayed Allah would make it so. Prayed beneath his breath like he’d never prayed before, before inhaling deeply and letting his head rest against the cool metal.

His hair was mussed, entire body riddled with nerves and jittering, and his team were about to enter the most important mission of their lives.

Nothing to worry about, of course. Nothing at all.

2

Contact in five minutes, Commander, Janny said, turning to where Khaled still sat, legs bouncing like electric shocks were fizzing through his hamstrings at a million miles a minute.

Understood, Khaled said. He rose to his feet, glanced to where his prima helmet was placed beside Scottie’s seat, then cleared his throat.

The crew understood the signal. Their eyes snapped to him, conversations, both internal and external, stopped for the moment.

A silence spread through the board room, a tense silence. Mixed into it was the scent of a new beginning, a scent of the lilies on Khaled’s childhood farm in the sweet spring.

He breathed the air in, then exhaled, before speaking.

We are The Hunters, Khaled said. The most capable fighters humanity can offer. New Earth’s survival, our civilisation’s fate, rests on our shoulders. Khaled swept a gaze over his crew, the men and women he’d fought alongside, people he was willing to die alongside. Their eyes were trained on him like hawks. It is a heavy burden, but one we must carry. One we must uphold to the best of our ability. We must win this war.

Aye, Adil said, and Khaled let a small smile flow over his features. Adil had a strange fascination with old pirates. Then the gravity of their mission hit Khaled once more, and he sobered quickly.

This is it, Hunters. The final battle. Their tesseract is aboard that ship, as are the hostages we were informed about. Kill as little Konx as you can, but casualties are likely as the Konx defend their weapon. We must destroy it, at all costs, understood? To save humanity.

Yes, sir, the chorus rang out.

Khaled snuck a glance back, where Janny held up three fingers. Three minutes till the exit hatch from the cloaked HunterShip docked against that of the Konx. Three minutes until the fight of their lives, the battle for the lives of all humanity, commenced.

Khaled slinked to his helmet and strapped it on, fastening the little lock mechanism beneath his chin as it attached the helmet to the rest of his primasuit. The noise of the whirring machines in the HunterShip dimmed, and the oxygen kicked into gear.

Khaled was now breathing pure oxygen, and his brain felt alive. Felt ready to take on the Konx and the worst they could bring, in order to save humanity one last time.

All his weapons were in place, holstered onto the primasuit’s belt. Grenades were hooked into place, as well as a plasma rifle strung across his back.

Khaled was ready, and he knew the rest of his crew were, too.

On the large window before the control room that spanned the expanse of space, Khaled spotted the Konx spaceship freely floating in the distance. It hovered in mid-air like a target waiting to be attacked, unaware of the imminent danger, and the HunterShip closed in.

Janny then held up two fingers, and Khaled turned to the rest of his team. All were worried, helmets now fastened on, yet none of them showed it. Khaled could tell, however, since he was their commander. These were his troops, and he knew their nervous tics.

Scottie had a rub of his eyebrow, even when his primasuit was on. Habiba tapped her right knee, and Adil’s voice rose an octave higher whenever he spoke. Horus constantly attempted to make disastrously bad jokes, and Very seemed adamant to recite prime numbers beneath her breath for a reason Khaled couldn’t fathom.

Janny held a finger up. One, long index finger.

One minute until they reached the Konx spaceship, the one carrying the tesseract to the main Konx settlement, the base of their operations.

Khaled checked to make sure his weapons were locked and loaded, safeties off, mind clocked in. He reminded the others to do the same, and they duly did, ensuring all equipment was ready for warfare.

No one spoke from beneath their shielded faces. None said even a word. The helmets operated on a proximity system, speech only heard by those close by, apart from the commander’s voice. Khaled could give orders that the rest would hear over the radio system, at a frequency none in the galaxy could intercept.

But, to stave off conflicting orders, the rest of the troops were set to a proximity setting, with a switch-flip needed to send a message to the whole team.

Khaled tapped into that radio now, pressing the button against his temple and hearing the crackle fire up. All the other troops did the same.

Janny’s showing a fist, Khaled said. He glanced out the porthole, and the Konx ship looked massive, its grey ridges gleaming, the hatch protruding just a little from the rest of the ship’s hull. A handle was attached to its outside, not that they would need to turn it. We’re here. Jason, you got the bomb?

Jason replied affirmative, then rotated to show the explosive strapped to his side. Jason would take it off and blow the hatch to bits, after which Khaled and the troops would make their entrance.

The Konx wouldn’t know what hit them.

Good, Khaled said. Get that thing running. Khaled swept an eye over his comrades, then signalled to the airlock on the far side. Ready up, troops, we’re about to save the world.

3

Khaled disengaged the airlock on the HunterShip’s hatch. He glanced back, saw the HS logo standing for HunterShip in the distance, understanding that this may be his final time commandeering the ship.

The airlock fell away smoothly, giving way to a ramp that teetered like it, too, felt the nerves of the troops. Khaled battled his balance and slung himself to the other side, then turned to Jason.

Jason grabbed the bomb in two