Space Marine Loki (Extinction Fleet Book 2)

by Sean Michael Argo

  Ajax smashed several eggs with his armored shoulder as he pressed on, leaving in his wake the disgusting half-grown embryos that floated out of the broken shells.

  Above and around him, garm and marine warriors tore each other to pieces. Ajax was struck more than once by sinking pieces of both drones and his comrades.

  Finally, he reached the center of the vent forest, just underneath the amniotic pool, and he realized just how large it all was now that he was on the ground and not floating above it. He stepped over the discarded shell of one of the snail creatures and noticed that a brilliant green fluid seeped out of it, the atomic weight of it causing it to flow across the stony ground instead of floating in a cloud like the blood and viscera that now filled the sea cave. Had it been struck by a bolt from a pulse rifle the creature would have been reduced to chunks of gore, the marine observed as he looked at the tight holes punched in the top of the shell.

  Ajax felt, more than saw, movement ahead and to the left. He raised his head, shouldering his rifle, and peered down the iron sights. His sight was filled with Jormungandr, only the beast was attacking its own kind instead of the marine. Several more shells of the snail beasts had been left at the base of the amniotic pool. As Ajax watched, Jormungandr opened its maw to punch a hardened proboscis through the shell of the snail. The bright green fluid gave a dull glow even through the proboscis as it was sucked out of the garm snail’s body and into Jormungandr. Ajax saw several dully glowing sacks now bulging from the creature’s thorax area.

  Whatever the fluid was, the beast was removing it from the snails, which the marine recalled, the snail had been pumping into the eggs just before the melee.

  Jorumgander released the dead snail and the garm’s serpentine body shuddered as the glowing sacks squeezed in on themselves. Gills appeared on both sides of Jormungandr’s head and the fluid poured out in thick clouds, the sacks and gills seeming to act like a sort of filter. The fluid no longer glowed, and was just a cloud of dull yellow. Ajax could not help but feel that whatever power it had before was gone. The pall of general hunger that he’d felt had faded, replaced by a bright and burning ember of rage coming specifically from the garm in front of him.

  Jormungandr shuddered once more and an inky black cloud emanated from its center of mass. Ajax squeezed the trigger of his pulse rifle and sent rounds chasing the great beast, though from what he could see his rounds likely went wide. He was firing blind, but that was no reason not to continue firing. If he happened to strike a fellow marine that was an acceptable price to pay for bringing down the garm organism, and he knew that Command would so judge it.

  He hit his twelve rounds and vented his gun. Ajax turned his head reflexively away from the breach, reflected in the action of the weapon he caught a glimpse of Jormungandr sliding into the entrance of a tunnel at the top of the chamber.

  Ajax gathered his legs underneath him and shot up through the water after kicking off as powerfully as his legs could propel him. His aim was good and he passed through the entrance to the tunnel, muzzle first, and his body lights illuminated the rocky confines well by reflecting off the mineral deposits shining in the rock face.

  Jormungandr was fleeing, he could feel it in his mind, and the marine rushed up through the tunnel without fear of sudden ambush. It wasn’t long until he began to see light, and shortly after he burst from the surface of the water to find himself on the other side of the small island.

  He crawled out of the shallow water at the lip of the tunnel and took note of the thick fluid that passed for garm blood that led to the shore of the island. He stood to his full height and walked to the shore, aware of the other marines and vehicles moving around the island behind him. His company channel was ablaze with radio chatter about swarms being sighted throughout the region, all moving towards a small desalination rig, and he felt the finality of it. They had purged the hive, and the garm beast had somehow robbed them of delivering the final death blow by doing the deed itself.

  Now that the breeding imperative had been removed, there was little left for the garm to do but attack. Ajax could feel the battle fury radiating from the alpha garm, mixing with his own black desires, and it filled him with a furious joy.

  Jormungandr wasn’t going down without a fight.

  THE RIG

  “It’s unfortunate that whaling was never an industry that became a staple of the economy of Kai Prime,” observed Skald Omar from his seat in the troop transport as it sped onwards just above the ocean’s surface, “Else we might have discovered the garm incursion sooner.”

  “The hive was hatching its eggs using the nutrients and heat from the vents. Environmental recon suggests that the various swarms were feeding predominantly upon the weaker creatures that dove deeper in search for food,” responded Hart without looking up from his work.

  The sniper-turned-skald was in the process of using a fine wire brush to clean out the salt and algae deposits that appeared to have clogged much of the inner workings of his rifle. “With the garm taking over the vents, not enough of the krill that the whale feed upon were able to spawn, forcing the whales deeper and allowing them to be taken without notice.”

  “It does speak to a deeper understanding of ecosystems than I’d have imagined capable of the garm intellect,” nodded Omar. “They achieved, with a single stroke, the feeding and care of a growing swarm and maintaining a somewhat clandestine existence by using the chain reaction to their multiple advantage. It’s brilliant, really.”

  “So now that we’ve smashed up their breeding pit, what’s the point in attacking a desalination rig, eh?” scoffed Mahora from his seat next to Ajax, the two men were positioned across from Omar and Hart. “Cerberus Company has reached the rig and is in the process of digging in, but I don’t get what those damn bugs are trying to accomplish.”

  “It’s the only stationary position of human civilization in this region. The nearest coastal city is halfway around the world,” offered Omar, his eyes gleaming with enjoyment at the discussion.

  Working out his thoughts through conversation was something Ajax had learned was a trademark with the man, much as it seemed to annoy the likes of Jarl Mahora and Skald Wallace.

  “Perhaps now that their eggs have been destroyed they’re reverting to a more primitive and traditional pattern of engagement? Had the events on Heorot not occurred, this would be a perfectly normal swarm tactic would it not?”

  “What say you, Bloodhound?” snarled Mahora, his displeasure at the endlessly shifting tactics of the enemy naked upon his face, every ounce of him a trench fighting man. “This Jormungandr cannibalizes its own kind and then runs away as the rest of the swarms converge on the rig. You think it’s going to join them, or has it gone to ground?”

  “Jormungandr will be there,” breathed Ajax after a few moments consideration. “I can’t tell you why I know that, it’s just a feeling, a certainty, actually. This doesn’t feel like an attack, even if it looks like one, there’s a desperation to it. More like they’re racing us.”

  “I’m reminded of the final engagement on Heorot,” said Hart, interrupting Mahora just as the jarl gathered his breath for what was likely a negative retort. “When the hive ship made a suicide run on the Bright Lance as swarms broke against our defenses trying to re-take Grendel’s head.”

  “Yes, it does have the hallmarks of such a thing,” agreed Omar. The skald looked out across the sea as the warning lights began to strobe, indicating that they were minutes from deployment. “Let us hope that we discover the truth of it before battle makes a mess of us all.”

  “The rig is automated, and only requires a crew of a dozen maintenance staff. Intel reports that they haven’t completed their quarterly reporting, though the shipments of clean water have continued unabated,” said Hart as the lights changed again, causing each man in the transport to double check his gear and prepare for insertion. “Perhaps the beasts were able to make use of the rig in some unknown way.”

  “Cerberus hasn’
t reported anything, but they’re focused on defenses,” grumbled Mahora. “Hopefully, they’ll buy us enough time to get to the bottom of this. It’s not like enough men walked away from that island intact to make much difference here.”

  Mahora’s words gave Ajax cause to look up at Rama, and the marines shared a slight nod. Hyrda Company had been all but wiped out in the surprisingly costly battle for the island, and only a handful of them had emerged from the caves.

  Upon reconnecting with Einherjar forces and making his report about Jormungandr’s escape, Ajax had discovered that the conflict inside the caves was bloody, indeed. The other fireteams had encountered just as much resistance from the aquatic drones as the battle Ajax had been a part of.

  Not only that, but Jormungandr had attacked one of the fireteams and inflicted grievous casualties before being driven away. That explained the multitude of wounds on the beast, though he still could not fathom exactly what he’d seen down in the egg chamber.

  Back on Heorot, he and a number of other marines had discovered the bodies of two separate swarms of garm that had torn each other apart. In all the years of war with the aliens, such a thing was unprecedented. The garm were a colony of sorts, a great swarm controlled by whatever yet undiscovered nightmare was the source of the Hive Mind.

  Ajax and his fluke of an ability merely confirmed the existence of the Hive Mind, so often theorized about by Command, though it shed little light onto the dizzying array of changes manifesting in the garm war effort.

  The rig might hold some secret, and Ajax felt as if he could nearly picture what it was that Jormungandr so desperately wanted there. He knew beyond a doubt that the beast would hurl every last garm organism at the ramparts to achieve its goal, and it was nothing as simple as merely the slaughter of marines.

  Cerberus Company had only been dispatched to the rig once reports of shrieker swarms moving through the sky towards it had reached Command. That new data combined with the discovery that the crew had only a few days ago missed their quarterly reporting had prompted Skald Omar and Jarl Mahora to swiftly turn the remnants of their forces around and speed towards the island.

  The troop transports were moving faster this time, since each one carried a fraction of the marine bodies and gear they had only hours before at the outset of the island assault.

  While some marine specialists and their attendants would stay behind to collect the priceless resurrection torcs, every rifleman and grenadier capable of carrying on the fight was ordered to rapid muster at the base of the stone tower.

  Ajax was loaded down with a fresh batch of carbon magazines and a new pulse rifle, his other having been left alongside so many others to be cleaned and repaired back aboard Bright Lance. The combination of garm carnage, brine, and sea water had begun to give the weapons some trouble.

  Sharif was no longer with them, his seat sitting empty, his torc was on its way back to the body forge. Apparently, the marine had taken several of Jormungandr’s barbs to the chest and had sunk into the heaps of hatched eggs while Ajax was focused on the fighting at hand. Somewhere in the tangle of bodies, too, was Quinn, and hundreds more who had paid the price to seize the island, reach the egg chamber, and see it destroyed.

  The last light strobed and the pilot pulled up on the throttle of the troop transport. Ajax leapt out of his seat and landed with a heavy thud as his boots clomped onto the slick metal grating of the rig. He saw that this particular transport had dropped its cadre of marines at the apex of the rig, a helipad platform that was centrally located. Ajax could imagine cargo and staff being loaded and unloaded here, dispersing throughout the rig from one of the tree stairwells and two open-air elevators attached to the platform. The platform was teeming with marines from Cerberus Company, who were busy bolting chainfire mounts into the decking and lashing flakboards to the rails to create firing positions for grenadiers.

  As the others disembarked Ajax jogged over to the edge of the platform and held onto the railing with one hand as he peered down at the north side. The rig was a massive structure, with gangplanks and cycling cargo lines surrounding the core desalination plant like a metal and wire ribcage. Marine riflemen were positioning themselves throughout the rig, setting up hard points where they could use the mobile flak boards, though in truth there would be little cover when the garm came.

  This would be a shootout.

  The machine was automated, using a rotating series of gigantic buckets to gather and dump sea water into the core processor. The solar panels provided the energy for the desalinator. From what Ajax could see, the bucket-crusted wheel worked on some form of gyroscoping perpetual motion engine. As the water was purified it was dumped into plastic cargo pods that were dropped onto a belt fed cargo line that transported them to a titanic storage platform.

  “Once the sensors register a target cargo weight, the entire platform detaches and uses on-board propulsion systems to follow a homing beacon back to one of the coastal cities,” announced Hart as he joined Ajax at the railing. “The only real function of the staff here is to clean solar panels and scrub away salt deposits on the various gears. Neglect is why we didn’t have prior warning that something was wrong here.”

  “The garm could have been here for months without us knowing,” said Ajax as he tightened his grip on the railing, at last spotting the dark shadows of alien bodies beginning to approach on the northern perimeter.

  “They have taken advantage of the neglect inherent in automated industry,” nodded Hart as he took a knee and began to adjust the sights of his rifle. “Something we’ll have to be aware of in the future.”

  “Hart has overwatch, the rest of you on me,” ordered Skald Omar as he circled his finger in the air and pointed towards one of the stairwells leading down. “Jarl Mahora, you too, I am sure that Jarl Borg of Cerberus Company will have the defenses well in hand.”

  Ajax fell in behind Omar as the jarl, Rama, and four other marine survivors of the island assault moved to follow the skald. The tattered remnants of Gorgon and Manticore were being dropped in successive waves on the platform. As Ajax started descending the stairs he could see Jorah directing some of the troop movements alongside Borg, Gorgon’s jarl having been slain back on the island.

  Moving downwards, he glanced again at the north side and saw clearly that a shrieker swarm was closing in fast. He watched for a moment, stunned by what he was seeing. Soon the others did the same as they began to hear surprised chatter over the company channel. Just as the shriekers entered chainfire range, the guns opened up.

  Usually, the chainfires would cut huge swathes through the flier swarms and cause bodies to rain down by the dozens. This time, the shriekers dove down to avoid the incoming barrage, and though plenty of them were still caught by the fusillade of deadly bolts, it was barely a dent in their numbers. The shriekers disappeared in the churn of the waves, diving straight down into the sea, avoiding the vast majority of the chainfire rounds.

  “Brace for return fire!” shouted Jarl Borg over the company channel, and at first Ajax was confused by the man’s order, though he dutifully crouched low on the staircase.

  Moments later the shriekers exploded from beneath the water, having continued their advance undeterred by the water, their bodies having adapted in subtle ways to mimic the sleek design of more aquatic creatures. The shriekers were in range of their weapons, and as sooner as they returned to the air, they opened fire.

  Caustic projectiles splattered across the rig as the swarm unleashed its full fury. Ajax realized just how lucky he and his squad were to be on the stairs at the moment battle was joined.

  The shriekers focused their fire on the platform above, no doubt attempting to take out the devastating chainfires. In years past, the garm simply attacked the strongest opponents they could find and worked their way down. When a chainfire gunner was killed and the weapon grew silent it was subsequently ignored by the rampaging aliens.

  It was upon the battlefield of Heorot that the garm tactics change
d, and they appeared to acknowledge that a chainfire was a threat whether a man was using it or not, as it could come back online as soon as someone put their finger on the trigger. More than one conflict had been snatched from the jaws of defeat by a lone man bringing a chainfire online at the last moment.

  While the machine guns shredded scores of shriekers, the first and second waves of projectiles from the fliers washed over the platform. The grenadiers had not been able to figure their range because of the diving tactic, so their salvo of airbursts did little but slay a handful of stragglers. The shriekers swooped up and moved in a tight arc through the air. Though the chainfires and riflemen, Ajax and Rama among them, managed to find their range and cut deep into the swarm it was able to disappear, once more, into the dark waters.

  “Sling those rifles and get moving, marines!” shouted Jarl Mahora as he shouldered past Ajax, forcing the marine to grab the railing for support. “If the Skalds want us doing a sweep and clear of the interior while the rest fight and die out here, then that’s what we do!”

  Ajax pounded down the stairs after Mahora. The shriekers emerged once more, attempting the same swooping attack maneuver. Many more marines responded with return fire this time, and though he could hear Einherjar screaming and dying, Ajax knew that the shriekers suffered greatly.

  Burning alien bodies cascaded from the sky, some smacking wetly into the network of gangplanks and cargo lines, though most splashed into the water at the base of the rig.

  Skald Omar blasted the lock mechanism off of the main hatch and Jarl Mahora instantly barreled through it and into the dark. Four marines followed him, three from Manticore and one from Gorgon, as the jarl turned on his body lights and swept his gun back and forth.

  “It was locked from the inside,” breathed Omar, disbelievingly, while Ajax and Rama entered ahead of him, their own weapons at the ready.

  The main hatch led into a common room, and Ajax knew instantly that bad things had happened there. He could see old blood stains and trashed furniture everywhere, along with deep claw marks in the metal of the far wall where something had torn through a door. On the walls were several harpoons, the jet-assisted types that sport whalers used then they wanted more of a challenge, instead of the industrial sized electro-nets of the commercial ships. One of the harpoons had been taken off the wall and actually fired, embedding itself nearly fourteen inches through the deck.