Neither Death Nor Dishonor by X.P. Miscovus

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On a table, inside of a tall house, close to a pile of wooden boards, South Whitevale.




Neither Death Nor Dishonor by X.P. Miscovus


[This excerpt from a popular military fiction novel depicts the do-or-die troops of the Dominion’s fictional Lost Legion, an all-volunteer lowborn “suicide squad” who carry out impossible missions on behalf of the most powerful leaders of the Dominion.]

“You picked the wrong day to attack the planet Cassus, guv,” Sergeant Stone said, chuckling as he lit stogie – a habit he’d picked up during the Seventh War of Gnox. “And y’really
shouldn’t’ve left such an easy trail to follow. Why, me and the boys just couldn’t resist. Y’think you little tree-slanks’re the only ones that can track somebody? I think you’ve hurt Bub’s feelin’s, so y’have.” He turned to the hulking lowborn Cassian private in the corner. “Ain’t that right, Bub?”

“Sure is, Stone,” Bub said on cue. “Why, me feelin’s might never recover.”

“And what do you have planned?” asked the Aurin, jutting out his chin in a sad
attempt to hide the fear that was making his tail shake like an Ophidian rattler.

“Who, us?” Stone replied said, punctuating the question with a few smoke rings blown into the prisoner’s face. “Why, we’re plannin’ nothin’ but gettin’ outta her way.” He jerked a thumb over one shoulder, and a Mechari female slipped from the shadows. Her eyes flashed with cold fire.

“Thank you, Agent,” Axis Pheydra said. “I believe I can take it from here.”
She saluted. “My best to the general.”

“As always, m’lady,” the sergeant replied.


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Type: Journal