Wednesday, December 08, 2010

Just a Little Promo

by Marva Dasef

Eternal Press
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Marva Dasef is a writer living in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and a fat white cat. Retired from thirty-five years in the software industry, she has now turned her energies to writing fiction and finds it a much more satisfying occupation. Marva has published more than thirty-five stories in a number of on-line and print magazines, with her stories included in several Best of anthologies. She has five published books. See a complete list of her work at

Ultimate Duty: Remy Belieux, a woman born into a life of servitude on a repressive factory planet, is desperate for a different life. When she's accepted into the Space Service Academy, run by the organization that enslaves her planet, she discovers the truth behind generations of rebellion. Now, she must decide what to believe, where her ultimate duty lies, and fight for more than her life against impossible odds.


With the protective helmet off, they could now talk. Remy pulled down the rebreather mask. “You guys ready to get the hell off this planet?”

Her mom patted her on the shoulder and her muffled voice answered, “More than ready, sweetheart.”

“Well, hang on. This is definitely going to be a bumpy ride.” Remy replaced her rebreather over her face. Once they got moving, the shuttle’s environment equipment would kick in, and they could take off the masks.

Remy clicked on the communicator and tuned to a close-range channel. She set her infopad near the spare headset and switched it to an electroid number. She could hardly call it music since the robotic instruments reprogrammed themselves at random, making a weird variety of sounds. Remy shrugged. “I guess I just don’t get modern music.” Bill and Ted were monitoring the frequency though and would know that Remy was ready to take off. They’d come in for another diversion run so that she could escape the planet unnoticed. Anybody else who picked up the sound would, hopefully, ignore it.

Her father looked out the passenger side screen and tapped Remy’s arm. “Would three guys holding blasters running in this direction be of interest?”

Remy nodded and goosed the shuttle’s back jets to get them moving across the bleak landscape and into the sky. She boosted out of atmosphere so hard her mom suppressed a squeak. “Slow down!”

“Can’t, Mom. Just try to hang on.” Her mother nodded, her eyes wide with fear. Her dad, on the other hand, was grinning like a kid with a new toy. Remy thought he might not be too old to take pilot training.

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