Sean-Michael Argo - Hard Cargo

“You good Staunch?” Boggs asked. “Recon Elite don’t get nervous.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Staunch said as he glanced back at the laser-interlaced bay ramp.

Boggs watched as Staunch gulped his own saliva.

“A confident squad is the best squad,” Boggs said as he met eyes with the rest of his men, one by one. Boggs turned and pointed to the bay opening. The smell of pine trees wafted into the craft. “Out there, you’re going to encounter who-the-hell-knows-what. Sure, some of those animals may look like ones we’re familiar with. But don’t be fooled. They might be poisonous. Might bite. Might spit shit at you that melts your face off. Or, they could all hold hands and sing skippety-dee-doodah. You just never know. So no slacking, got it? Your partner has your back, and you have his. We go out two by two, due to the forested nature of planet Mawholla. Listen to that word, men. Mawholla. Twice the size of Earth. Two suns, Little Blaze and Big Blaze, offset by 90 degrees. According to CPB Commanders, this is numero freaking uno on the list. Let’s not let them down. Look sharp, be sharp, or have sharp things sink into you. Got it?”

“Yes sir!” the men shouted back in unison.

Bogs cupped his ear. “What’s that, I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Yes sir!”

“Good,” Boggs said. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Copyright 2018 by

Sean-Michael Argo

Edited by TL Bland