En cours de chargement...
Staff Sergeant David Webb awakened to a low rumbling roar in the distance and found himself stranded on a great flowing plain, his head still groggy from the ASF and wondering how he got there. He nearly stumbled as he stiffly rose to his feet, a by-product of irregularly thawing from the ASF, no doubt. Nor was there any doubt that bastard pilot, Roberto, had probably killed half the passengers, stole the ship, and stranded the survivors without reviving any of them.
In the distance, he heard a second animal-like bellow, not really a scream, more like a deep guttural noise piercing the surrounding silence. David's space marine uniform and all his weapons were gone, no blouse, no boots, nothing but his cotton underwear, not even a blade. This was not what he had planned and certainly not what he had volunteered for. He still had one hundred and fifty good service years left.
He was supposed to set up a temporary garrison with two-dozen handpicked soldiers and a dozen other mercenaries to guard a group of civilian space prisoners/colonists. He was not supposed to end up on a god-forsaken, barren plain on a prison planet ten light years from the emperor's furthest outpost. At least, he hoped he was on the prison world. No telling where Roberto had dropped them.