Ascendant Saga Collection: Sci-Fi Fantasy Techno Thriller Brandon Ellis (ebook reader for comics txt) 📖

Drew ran around the car and behind a two-story apartment complex, disappearing into another building. The military men ran after him, then the scene ended.

President Jefferson stepped in front of the camera, a United States flag pin on his suit-coat pocket. “That’s Drew Avera. Our savior. Our champion. Our patriot. Thank you, Drew.”

Anderle turned, grinning from ear to ear. “What do you think, buddy?”

Drew stood, mouth flapping in the wind. “Why?”

Anderle patted Drew’s shoulder. “Look, we need you.”

“Why? For what?” Drew had that, 'no pot for three months' feeling in the pit of his stomach. The one that told him 'bad things will happen'. Now. He would have given a steaming, dripping kidney, just to be allowed to light up and kick back. His old friend Anderle had shifted into some bad shit. Drew wasn’t sure he wanted to know what kind of shit exactly, but as soon as that thought entered his mind, he knew he had to dig deeper. The journalist in him always won out. Even over the stoner.

Anderle slipped his hand off Drew’s shoulder and walked toward the doorway. He spun on his heels, lips curled. “I’ll let you and Mya stay safe if you’re game with what we need you to do. I won’t if you decide to sit on your ass and do nothing. You’re living like a prince, Drew. Don’t be a disrespectful prick.”

It was true. Drew was being treated like a king and Mya like a prisoner.

Drew put his hands behind his head in what he hoped was a show of casual nonchalance. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this.”

Anderle smiled. “It’s for the benefit of all.” He eyed a soldier. “Take over the other guards watch over Mya.” The man nodded, and he and Anderle disappeared around the corner. Drew sighed, then stood when a clack of boots pierced the hallway, slowly coming closer.

Click.

Clack.

Click.

General Yu took a step into view, cocking his head in Drew’s direction. He pointed, shaking his head, making sarcastic puppy-dog eyes, his lower lip pushed out in an exaggerated pout. He pointed his finger at him, pushing his thumb, creating a fake gun with his hand. “This for Mya,” came out of his mouth. He cocked his thumb back with his other hand and released, dropping his thumb down, “Phta, Phta,” he sounded, spit shooting out of his mouth. It was the sound of a silencer on a gun. “Pour little Mya. She important to us. You be careful or we make her dead. Then you die.”

8 Leonia, Canis Major - Galactic Arm, Milky Way Galaxy

“We’re going all out to get these monsters where it hurts. They won’t understand what hit them. What comes next is unknown. We win? We lose? We can’t say. All we can say is we do battle against the Agadon with our all. Sync up!” said Zara.

Jaxx was inside a combat-mech. It had several blasters on its forearms, dozens of missile launchers on its chest, cannons mounted on its shoulders, and a giant sword holstered to its back, the hilt sticking up above the mech’s head. The cockpit—inside lion’s head—had a large window that wrapped from the front to the sides of the mech’s face.

“Jaxx, you’re the only one not syncing up. We can’t leave until all units are linked together through our nexus,” explained Zara.

“How?”

“Behind you is a Kepi, a hair harness. Put it on.”

Jaxx twisted in his seat, eyeing something sticky. It looked like a jelly fish stuck to the wall. “The slimy thing?”

“It’s not slimy, Jaxx. Put it on.”

“I guess this is something I didn’t learn about in my ten-minute training.” He rolled his eyes. How would ten minutes give him everything he would need to know about combat, let alone driving one of these massive machines? Still, he couldn’t not do his duty. He’d brought this hell down upon them. The least he could do was to slap a jellyfish on his head.

Jaxx unclasped the helmet from the bulkhead panel. A gold wire of some-sort was attached to it and rolled out like a hose when Jaxx put the helmet over his head.

A shock of electricity bolted down his brain, through the central nervous system, connecting to every synapse he knew he had and many more he thought were non-existent. He stiffened and a dynamic blue vortex encompassed his vision. He lifted his chin. He unconsciously sucked in a gulp of air. He spasmed as a charge went into his sacrum. A moment later, everything settled and his vision normalized.

“Your Kepi connects with your hair. Your hair is an antenna to your psyche, your mind, and your heart. Your mech is now synced up with you, and you with us. The rest I do not need to repeat, as you have learned all you need to know in your training download.”

Jaxx checked over his mech’s stabilization screen. Everything checked out fine. He pressed back and forth on his gyro lever and his mech bent at the knees and then straightened. He smirked. The power was like nothing he’d felt before. Screw being an archeologist, he was a warrior.

The gyros were online, balancing his hips and torso. He checked his instrument panel and flinched. The display readings extended outward, then slowly poured through his eyes and into his brain. His mind erupted in images, gauges, and numbers in his language, everything telling him that he was good to go: heat syncs on-line and stable, weapons fully charged, missile batteries fully loaded, and the Ashanti sword—medium-width sword at the hilt and three times as wide from mid-sword to the tip—was sharpened and magnetized to his mech’s back. And gyro-joints were at full strength.

He leaned back and flicked on the engines. A thunderous roar zipped through his cockpit, then quieted, purring like a cat.

“Defensive assault ready to commence,” said Zara.

The ceiling cracked in two, opening slowly. Dirt and brush fell into the underground facility like sand into the bottom of an