Read Hard Drop for Free Online Page A

heat warning…Shields at 40 percent…” The voice came again, and Tyco cursed inwardly. It was too early in the day to tempt fate.
    He fought the rocking pod and the mounting g-forces, raising his hand as he counted down manually. It was a ritual, now, well-ingrained and thoroughly worn in: launch, ride out the rocket, count to thirty, prep chute, deploy retardants, and pull. Tyco breathed evenly, pacing himself for the last ten second, and yanked the release lever. He breathed in sharply as the pod lurched back, then breathed out slowly, mechanically, exhaling for the full fifteen seconds until the parachute flared open. The pod lurched back harder still, slamming against his restraints and knocking the wind out of him until his lungs burned.  
    The warning voice died away abruptly, leaving Tyco alone in the silent pod, surrounded by the howling wind outside. He leaned back, breathing easier, and looked down.  
    The ground rushed up below him, rising much too quickly despite the pod’s countermeasures. Tyco closed his eyes, letting the voice guide him in.
    “Impact in five, four, three, two…”
    And then everything went black.

THREE: HARD FACTS  

    Pods are not made to land smoothly. The words echoed in Tyco’s head as he came to, blinking as his eyes focused on the cracked hatch. They are made to land as quickly as safely possible. You can expect touchdown to hurt. How many times had he shouted those words at greenhorns in training? He felt them bodily now. His side ached as he stepped out of his restraints and reached for the hatch handle.
    The pod's clear window was cracked, weakened by the heat of atmospheric entry and splintered on impact. He was lucky it hadn’t shattered as well. He groaned as he pulled his trusted, standard-issue battle rifle from the pod’s weapons locker. The display lit up immediately, showing no faults. Better yet, it indicated no hostile presence in the pod's immediate radius. Rolling his neck quickly so the joints cracked in unison, Tyco hit the door release with his palm.  
    There was no response from the mechanism. Tyco tried again, mashing the button with more force. Still nothing. Apparently the pod's wiring had been shaken loose on impact. He would have to force it manually.
    With a heavy sigh, he lowered his shoulder against the cracked glass door and pushed, slowly levering his body against it until he was standing diagonally, his large frame fully extended across the pod, with his fully body weight leaned against the glass. And still the door would not budge.  
    Losing patience, Tyco rocked back and rushed the hatch, letting his shoulder slam against it with full, painful force. It gave way violently and immediately, sending him sprawling out onto ground beyond it. He felt the dirt through his gloves before he could see it. After the darkness of launch and the shielded confines of the pod, the sun overhead was blinding, and the world was a bright blur. The sensors in his visor compensated slowly, darkening gradually until his eyes could adjust enough to see the dry, yellowish earth beneath his fingers.  
    Rough and sandy, the rocky ground below dug into his knees through what was left of his heat shield. It was hardly the best first impression. All the same, Tyco was glad to be alive and on solid ground. He rose to full height, quickly stripping off the charred insulating fabric, and turned to stare into the valley below.  
      The world that met his eyes seemed strangely familiar, as if he had been on this planet before. In a certain sense, he had: the foliage that sparsely covered the hills around him was part of the standard terraforming package used on every new planet before colonization. The plants grew unevenly from the soil, their leaf patterns and colors close, but not identical to their standard counterparts on Earth. Every planet’s soil had its quirks and inherent chemical imbalances, which played out visibly in the size, shape, and color of its plant life.