Grimm bounced his rubber ball off the ceiling. He loved mercenary work, but the travel between planets was killer. They were en route to investigate attacks on Phobos’ mining facilities, and the flight from Venus took three days.
He glance at his elf partner, who was playing with his mobile communicator. There’s no signal in hyperspace. They’d been partners for years but never connected off of the battlefield.
Grimm bounced his ball again and his partner turned and opened his mouth. At that moment the alarms sounded.
“Exiting hyperspace, assume battle positions, prepare for orbital drop.”
Saved by the bell.
Author’s Note: I’m sure that I would not be the first person to be intrigued at the idea of fantasy elements in space. I mean, picture an orc squeezing into a space craft, or a dwarf with a blaster rifle.
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