Ascendant Saga Collection: Sci-Fi Fantasy Techno Thriller by Brandon Ellis (easy to read books for adults list txt) 📕

They at least left the Secret Space Program with a map of their trek and findings. It had been conveniently downloaded into each of Fox’s team’s suits.

God he wished he could just put a bullet in Jaxx’s head. Those weren’t his orders. Too bad.

“Alive and well,” were the orders from Admiral Gentry Race.

His stomach twirled at the thought of Jaxx getting hurt in any way; as if he was betraying a son or a friend or kin. His stomach never cared about death, mutilation, or straight up murder. His mind knew what was right—to end Jaxx. His body wasn’t complying, drawing jitters upon jitters against his mind’s motives. He’d have to get a good, long vacation when he returned to Star Warden.

His scanner beeped. Men—Taiyonians—were coming in hordes from the northeast.

“Team S.A.S.M. Seven, this is team leader Bravo, dismounted movement northeast, coordinates nine-nine-four. Estimated company, the ORR counts two hundred and eighteen units heading in our direction, over.”

“Positive. I have the read as well,” said S.A. Marley, second in command behind Fox. “Orders?”

Fox pulled his sniper rifle from the back of his exo-suit and slapped his plasma rifle in its place, magnetizing it. “I’m going to tag a couple.” Which meant he’d down them, killing them, doing what he did best. “S.A. Gainer, follow suit. Let’s make ORR count less units on recall.”

An S.A.S.M. team always carried two snipers, three heavy particle cannon soldiers, always using HPC-11-Rapid Fires small cannons that hung slack by a strap on each of the three designated member’s shoulders that when pulling the trigger could spark up an entire forest, creating an inferno if needed, and if a forest wasn’t near, they’d spark up whatever was in their way. Lastly, two soldiers in a S.A.S.M. team carried shock pirate guns, or in other words, grenade launchers that weren’t accurate, but always packed a punch.

“S.A. Gainer, get in position and I’ll do the same.” Fox took a spot on the ground and lowered his sniper rifle’s bipod to the ground, stabilizing his rifle, then eyed through the rifle’s scope, sliding his finger a feather width from the trigger. He switched the scope to optic infrared, a better way to track, seek, and find an enemy. The scope automatically positioned the gun to the closest target, closing in on 1.9 miles away. A long shot, but doable. That wasn’t his target, though. He needed to shoot at the back of the pack, slowly picking one target off then the other before the rest of the force knew what was happening. If he hit the front, they’d all see and duck for cover immediately. Always a rookie move.

The scope labeled each target by number count and corrected the line of fire in response to the planet’s current temperature and wind flow, making the pull of the trigger the only stress for a space marine sniper.

Fox’s scope indicated the last enemy soldier in range as ET Target 218.

“Turn tracer fire off,” Fox told Gainer.

“Tracer fire off, Sir. ET Target 217, locked.”

Fox kept his eye on his target. “218, locked.”

“Fire.” He pulled the trigger. On the optic scope’s infrared view, the Taiyonian warrior—his target—fell to the ground and lay motionless. “218 down.” He shifted his rifle. “ET Target 216, locked.”

“Fire,” said Gainer. “217 down. ET Target 215, locked,” replied Gainer.

“Fire.”

“Fire.”

The triggers pulled, another warrior down and then another.

Fox shifted his rifle an inch to the left. “Target 214, locked.”

“Target 213, locked.”

“Fire.”

“Fire.”

A pause.

“What the fuck?” came Gainer.

Fox crinkled his forehead. His eyebrow rose. The targets stopped, froze in place, then continued trudging forward. “We missed. Target 214, locked.”

“213, locked.”

“Fire.”

“Fire.”

“Missed again?” asked Gainer.

“What’s going on, Sarge?” inquired Marley.

Fox checked his scope. “Targets were hit. Twice. I don’t...” he hesitated. “Hold on.” He pulled up his scope’s camera, watching the replay of his last target. Nothing was out of the ordinary, except that the soldier didn’t fall, didn’t die. He slowed the camera down, viewing the replay once again. Just before his plasma bolt hit ET Target 214, the Taiyonian brought his arm up and a hazy shield popped up out of nowhere, absorbing the shot, then the shield disappeared in the blink of an eye.

These infantrymen were fast. And they had shield technology embedded in them.

“Fall back,” Fox said.

“Falling back, Sir,” responded Marley.

Fox stood and rushed down the hill, watching his helmet’s view screen indicators. His men were angling off, fifty yards from the next person, some fifty-one yards from the other, but no one was perfect. “Marley, take S.A. Jenson and S.A. Lewis to coordinates seven-seven-three and await my orders.”

“Aye, Sir.”

They detached from the team, heading northwest.

“The rest of you,” called Fox. “Follow my—”

A blast kicked up in front of him, lifting him off his feet and somersaulting him in the air. He landed on his back in a skid and took out large clumps of dirt and rocks. He spun and kicked his leg out at a thin tree and toppled it over.

He cringed as he hit a boulder, bringing him to a halt. He went to stand but a heavy foot slammed against his chest, smashing him back to the earth. His helmet’s heads up display went static for a moment, then faded to black only to blink on an instant later, all infrared off and normal view in its place.

A man wearing a jump suit with Secret Space Program—SSP—symbols where a right shirt pocket would be, loomed over him with a phaser in his hand, pointing it directly at Fox. He was surrounded by dozens of Asian-looking people wearing black pants and blue coats that flared into capes, lined in red. What looked to be technologically advanced bow and arrows were strapped to their backs.

“Don’t move, Fox.”

A tug pulled at Fox’s heart and he squinted, not knowing what that tug meant or why it came. It happened every so often when he was around Jaxx, and it happened again.

Jaxx bent down, compassion in his eyes. “You hate me. I don’t care. I’m not going