Lights Out
Bringer of Chaos: How Six Became Six
by Kayelle Allen
Genre: Science Fiction
Join
the Ghost Corps, they said. You'll live forever, they said. You'll
save mankind, they said. They didn't say that to do it, first he had
to die.
When Tornahdo signs on the dotted line, he puts his life into the steady hands of the mighty Ghost Corps. Three grisly deaths and three agonizing resurrections later, he's assigned duty on the space station Enderium Six.
He's facing his most dangerous mission yet, the very reason the corps exists.
Do they expect him to win? Fat chance. Tornahdo and his team are already dead and this mission is codenamed "Lights Out." No, there's more to this than he can see.
To discover the truth, he must face an unbeatable, unkillable enemy, and this time--somehow--find a way to keep himself alive...
When Tornahdo signs on the dotted line, he puts his life into the steady hands of the mighty Ghost Corps. Three grisly deaths and three agonizing resurrections later, he's assigned duty on the space station Enderium Six.
He's facing his most dangerous mission yet, the very reason the corps exists.
Do they expect him to win? Fat chance. Tornahdo and his team are already dead and this mission is codenamed "Lights Out." No, there's more to this than he can see.
To discover the truth, he must face an unbeatable, unkillable enemy, and this time--somehow--find a way to keep himself alive...
Tornahdo
is facing his most dangerous mission, the very reason Ghost Corps
exists. He must take out the king responsible for every war
between humans and Ultras since the origin of the Ultra bloodline.
If he succeeds, the war is over.
If he doesn't, the Ultras will rule mankind for another thousand years...
If he succeeds, the war is over.
If he doesn't, the Ultras will rule mankind for another thousand years...
Available
on kayelleallen.com/chaos-lights/
Ravenstongue sauntered toward him. "Why you here?"
Tornahdo kicked back in his chair. After stretching out his legs, he crossed his ankles. "Why do you care?"
"Big ops tomorrow. Lights out in ten. Time for you to go home and go to bed."
Behind the bar, the keeper closed up shelves and battened down doors.
"Yeah?" Tornahdo flicked a hand toward the door. "I'll follow you out."
"I'm not leavin'. Didn't you hear? We passed inspection with the highest scores. Got a free night out." Ravenstongue jabbed a finger toward Tornahdo. "But you gotta go home like a good boy."
In no kingdom in the galaxy would that happen.
Ravenstongue lifted two fingers, signaling his cohorts.
The keeper ducked behind the bar while the goons flanked their wannabe boss, imbecilic grins in place.
A pair of demons usually sat on Tornahdo's shoulders. The bad demon laid out strategy while the good demon discouraged action. Tonight, the good demon flipped a middle finger toward Ravenstongue with a not-so-subtle suggestion to kick his ass.
Tornahdo took his time rising, slid his chair under the table. "What did you say?"
"I said, 'You gotta go home like a good boy.'"
Hanging his thumbs in his belt, Tornahdo gave him a slow smile. "Go back to the bar, finish your drink and we'll pretend we're all friends and leave together. This is your last chance for a peaceful end."
"Peaceful." With a scoff, Ravenstongue jerked his head toward Short Goon. "You hear that?"
"Yeah. Maybe we oughta do what--"
Ravenstongue jabbed him with an elbow.
"I mean, yeah! I heard that." He leaned closer to his boss. "We gonna?"
"No, you idiot. Shut your face and back me up."
How did these hotheads enlist? Ghost Corps must have been desperate for bodies. Literally. A fighter's corpse they could reanimate. Which was a sobering thought.
Was that what the corps thought of him?
I’m Science Fiction author Kayelle Allen. I did a tour in the US Navy, where I climbed around airplanes fixing black boxes that helped pilots find their way home. I wrote my first novel at 18 but to this day, it’s hidden under my bed, where (trust me) it will remain. Gems from it, however, launched several series in my galaxy-wide universe of stories. From childhood, I was the victim of an overactive imagination and inherited the Irish gift of gab from my mother. From my father, I got a healthy respect for mechanical things. Small wonder I write Science Fiction and Fantasy peopled with misbehaving robots, mythic heroes, role playing immortal gamers, and warriors who purr.
I’m a member of RomVets, a group of military and former military women who write romance. In 2014, I was awarded an honorary lifetime membership to the OutlantaCon Science Fiction Convention for support of the convention since its debut. I founded Marketing for Romance Writers (more about them below), and today it has over 7k members. I also lead a writer’s group in my community. Now that I’m retired, I stay busier than ever. I’ve been married so long I’m tenured.
I am a graphic artist as a hobby. Most of the art and banners on this site and in my social media were created by me, including my logo. I have a great design team that I also work with, commissioning special pieces. Check out their pages. Jamin (Volgraza) and Livius (Nano-Core) have huge amounts of talent. I am also privileged to work with a cosplayer who portrays my immortal king, Pietas. Take a moment to check out Nik Nitsvetov’s amazing work.
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