Free The Siege of Earth (The Ember War Saga Book 7) by Richard Fox Page A

goes,” he swung his feet to the surface and fired the thrusters attached to his boots. He felt his stomach sink and blood rush from his head as g-forces played across his body. As he tried to gauge his descent with how hard he was about to hit Pluto, he wished he’d had a few more days to rehearse this emergency landing.
    Hale hit like a falling dart. Ice shattered and a fine layer of dust and snow covered his visor. Hale felt pressure against his entire body, but no pain. He raised an arm, shifting daggers of broken ice the size of his hands across his helmet. He wiped his visor clear and saw the still-raging void battle high above.
    He pushed himself onto his knees and felt for the plasma rifle on his back. He breathed a sigh of relief when his hand closed around the handle. He looked around. Low mounds of rolling ice stretched across much of the horizon, but the Norgay Montes were to his north.
    Another Marine landed ahead of him. Hale pressed off the ice, taking long, loping strides through the gravity barely a twentieth of Earth’s. He kept an eye to the sky, aware that his gray armor made him an easy target against the pale white ice.
    He leapt over a lump of ice the size of a bus and found Egan struggling out of his impact crater.
    “Everyone got clear of the pod,” Egan said. “This was not how we were supposed to get down here.”
    “What about the other teams? Did they make it down in one piece?”
    “No idea. I was too busy trying to fly a falling stone, then trying to do the descent math in my head before my ejection seat could kill me.” Egan drew his rifle. “Blast must have fried the seat’s thrusters. Damn lowest bidder.”
    “Sir!” Standish and Yarrow waved to them from the edge of the depression. “We’ve got a beacon from the landing zone. At least one team is where they’re supposed to be.”
    “Thank God for small favors,” Hale said. “Any sign of Cortaro or Bailey?”
    Yarrow touched the side of his helmet and nodded.
    “I’ve got line of sight and IR to them both. Cortaro is not happy with us standing out in the open,” Yarrow said.
    “Let’s get moving.” Hale bounded up the hill.
    The Marines formed into a wedge formation and ran toward the beacon, picking up Cortaro and Bailey on the way.
    “Just so everyone knows,” Standish said, “there’s a master release button in the center of the Y-harness.”
    “Why are you telling us this now, Standish?” Egan asked.
    “Oh, no reason.”
    Hale didn’t have to look at Standish to know he was winking at him.
     
    ****
     
    Hale crested a hill made of ice and stone and saw a round mineshaft big enough to swallow a Destrier transport in the side of a cliff.
    He keyed his IR. “This is Roughneck 6. Anyone copy?”
    “6, Crimson leader, I’ve got you. We’re just inside the opening. Plenty of room for you,” Lieutenant Jacobs said. “Mind the drop pod. We’ve got it under camo twenty-five meters from the entrance.”
    “Roger, inbound.” Hale made for the opening, his team behind him. He got to the shaft and jumped over the outer edge. The shaft wall looked like the surface of the ocean—perfectly still waves a few inches high descending into a deep abyss.
    Five Marines from Crimson huddled against the edge of the shaft, their attention on the horizon. A black body bag lay off to the side.
    “Xaros hit Fredericks,” Jacobs said. “His armor stopped most of the beam, but it cracked his suit. He suffocated before we even hit the surface.” Her gaze stuck on the dead Marine.
    “What’s the status on your equipment? Any other casualties?” Hale asked.
    Jacobs didn’t answer.
    Hale grabbed her by the shoulder and turned her to face him.
    “Look at me and focus,” he said. “Fredericks is gone. You can’t do anything about that now. Mission. Lead your Marines that are still alive.”
    “Right, sir, sorry. Pod came down intact. We got all the special equipment out. No one else is hurt,” she said.
    “What about