Doomed Space Marine: A Space Adventure (Bug Wars Book 1)

by J. A. Cipriano

  I couldn’t remember a prayer, not a damned one. So, instead, I just looked down at the fresh grave where he lay.

  “Hey kid,” I said, clearing my throat. “You deserve better than this. Hell, your old man deserved better than this too. I just want you to know that I think you did well. I know it wasn’t a long tenure for you, and I know it’s probably not how you wanted things to end, but you should be proud of yourself. I sure as hell am.”

  My jaw tightened. “And hey, I hope that, wherever you are, your old man is with you. He was so damn excited to meet you back in the day. I know it was worth the wait for him.” I shrugged. “Maybe the two of you can finally play catch now or something. It’d be nice. I don’t know.” I shook my head, feeling stupid. “I’m going to make it right, kid. I’m going to make them pay, okay.”

  When I walked back over to Mina and her girls, I was surprised about how patient they had been and were still being. Either the scolding she’d gave them before did a better job than I would have thought or she’d given them a refresher on who was in charge while I was laying Billy to rest.

  “Is it done?” Mina asked me, her dark eyebrows jutting upward with the question.

  “As done as it’s going to get,” I admitted.

  In truth, there was something wrong about leaving the body of a man who was willing to give his life to serve his planet in enemy ground, but Billy knew the risks. He knew what would happen if he died up here. I shook my head. At least it was better than the bugs picking him apart in the search for more Ellebrium.

  “Good, we’ve lost half an hour, and we need to get moving if we’re going to make that time up,” she said, staring at me. “First, perhaps the Artemis squad should officially introduce itself.” She smirked at me, a grin that would have pissed me off if it didn’t tickle me so much. “As you know, I’m Mina John. I’m the leader of this group, and as an infantry Marine, I have the most recorded kills in the history of the Alliance.”

  As much as I hated to admit it, she was right… at least at this moment. The stinger and the flier she must have killed put her over the top on the leaderboards. I had her beat on one thing that, in my eye, was maybe more important.

  “Most recorded kills, but not the most successfully completed missions,” I said, reminding her of just who she was talking to.

  “It’s still early,” she shot back, her smirk as bright as ever. “The woman next to me is PFC Claire Forbes.” She motioned to the redhead who I’d saved from becoming a splat on the ground earlier, the woman who had repaid me with disdain and distrust. As I looked at her now, I saw that none of that had changed. She glared at me like I was a scab on her eyelid, something painful, awkward, and in the worst possible place. “She’s our medic.”

  “Medic?” I narrowed my eyes at her. “Didn’t do much of a job on Billy, did you?”

  “That’s because I know a lost cause when I see one,” she said, her eyes dragging up and down my body before moving to Mina, “unlike some of us.”

  “Enough,” Mina said flatly, barely glancing at the woman. “This one here,” she continued, motioning to the purple-eyed girl whose pulse laser was still slung across her back, “is—”

  “I’m Lance Corporal Jill Rodman,” the girl finished, extending her hand for me to shake.

  I had no beef with her. In fact, I had been somewhat in awe of the way she’d handled herself when the chips were down. So I took her hand and shook it firmly.

  “It’s an honor to meet you, sir,” she continued, giving me a half smile that showcased the purple of her lips. I stared at her, wondering if the color was because of lipstick or was a genetic modification like her eyes. “I heard a lot about you growing up.” She looked from me to Mina. “A lot about both of you. When I first started out in the infantry, I figured the two of you must get together all the time. I thought you guys were probably like best friends or really tight coworkers or something.” She smiled brightly. “I’m really happy to be part of this with the both of you.”

  I stared at her for a minute, blinking as I took her in. “She always like this?” I asked, my eyes darting over to Mina.

  “Only when she’s mooning over someone,” Claire scoffed.

  “Shut up,” Jill retorted.

  “Both of you shut up,” Mina said, rolling her eyes. “Now let’s get going. This moon is still spinning, and something tells me we don’t want to be out here in the dark.”

  I exhaled sharply. I hadn’t even thought about dark yet. This was supposed to be a quick in and out type thing. It was supposed to be free of complications. That was a big part of the reason why I’d kept my mouth shut when it turned out I was going in with two grassfeds. What was the worst that could happen?

  Turns out I still hadn’t gotten to the bottom of that question. I had been on moons before. When they were hot, they were damned hot. When they were cold though, you couldn’t survive it. Hypothermia is a bitch. I’d seen it take out good men and women. I didn’t want to be among them.

  “Any idea what the hell is at the top of this hill?” I asked Mina as we all started walking along the expanse.

  We seemed to fall into a natural rhythm, with Claire at one end and Jill at the other. They each had their weapons at the ready, probably for quick action should anything happen. Mina was unarmed though, having retracted both her weapon and her shovel back into her suit. Maybe she thought her girls would be quick enough to save her, or maybe she was just that good.

  Me? I wasn’t about to walk around all armed up if the woman beside me wasn’t going to do it. Still, I made a mental note to walk closer to Jill. Not only did I favor a pulse laser over a rocket spear, but I figured she was more likely to cover me if shit went down.

  “I don’t know any more than you do about it.” She looked over at me calmly. “We both got the same message.”

  “You sure about that?” I retorted wearily. “Because, from where I’m standing, only one of us has ever gotten special treatment from the Alliance, and it sure as hell isn’t me. I’m wondering just how far that treatment goes.”

  That smirk of hers made a reappearance, surprising me. I figured my question would piss her off, but it didn’t seem to.

  “What I’ve earned is my own business. You have no idea what I’ve gone through to get it.”

  There was a question there, begging me to ask just what she had gone through to get special treatment. Now wasn’t the time to ask though. Now was the time to get our asses to safety.

  “That might be true, but I know what I’ve been through,” I said, “and I know what I’m willing to go through now. If you have information, you need to share it with me.”

  “Why? Because you’re a big strong man, and you’re going to be able to save us when things get rough?” She looked at me like I was a disgusting mess, a blight on the face of this planet.

  “No.” I shook my head, “because, like you said, I’m your teammate, at least for now, and you owe me as much.”

  She glared at me. I had her, and she knew it.

  “I don’t know anything for sure,” she lamented, keeping pace with me as we made our way to the hill in the distance. “Best guess? It’s a new target they’ve gleaned from more recent information.” She shrugged. “Or it’s an extraction point.”

  She was lying, at least about the last part of it. Like me, she knew there was no extraction point up there. We had a mission, and the Alliance wasn’t going to pull us out before it was finished. She was saying this for her girls, not that I blamed her. Morale was important among the troops. A good leader knew that, and they knew how to keep it up, even if it meant being less than truthful every once in a while.

  “Fair enough,” I said. “We’ll get to that point and go from there.”

  Mina took a deep breath. “I meant what I said about you knowing who’s in charge here.” She shook her head. “It’s nothing personal. I do respect what you’ve accomplished up to a point, but I work a certain way, and I won’t put my girls at risk by chan
ging that now.”

  I looked at her. I could respect that too, even if the ‘at a certain point’ caveat struck me as a little odd and completely unnecessary.

  “You don’t work with men,” I said. “Everyone knows that, so you can be forgiven for thinking we’re all… how did Claire describe me? Knuckle dragger?”

  “She shouldn’t have said that.”

  “Even if it’s true?” I laughed. “Look. I’m not some fragile, egocentric dildo you have to walk around on eggshells with. You’ve got your way of doing things. That’s fine. I’ve got mine too. Say whatever you want about what our bands say and what it means. I’m not part of your squad. I didn’t sign up for that. You do what you have to. I won’t get in your way, but don’t get in my way either. If you can do that, you might just find I come in handy every once in a while.” I walked out in front of her. “You know, for a knuckle dragger.”

  17

  “This is it, you know,” Jill, the purple haired one said to me as we marched toward the hill.

  I had drifted away from Mina in the minutes since we’d had our conversation. I’d asked her to give me my space. It seemed the least I could do to give her some as well. Finding myself next to the one woman in this group who didn’t seem irritated by my sheer presence seemed like the next logical step after that. And if she just so happened to be cute? Well, that wasn’t my fault, was it?

  “What?” I asked, looking over at her, and noticing the way the strap of her pulse laser ran perfectly between her breasts. I tightened my jaw. She was young. Not a kid, like Billy had been, she was a little over twenty or something. Old enough to hold her own, but not yet experienced enough to lose the spring that was all over her step.

  “I know a lot of people see the infantry as a stepping stone, but not me,” she said, explaining things to me as though the thoughts that were running through her head right now had never been thought by another living person in the history of the whole damn world.

  That was one thing about youth I didn’t miss; thinking you were the most uniquely special person in the entire universe for no reason at all.

  “Is that so?” I asked, glancing at her.

  “I get that most people join up, either looking to get into politics or move up to sedentary positions.” She shook her head, scrunching her nose up in distaste. “You know, I’ve even heard of people actually joining up just to get an early pension.”

  “Imagine that,” I muttered sarcastically.

  “But this is it for me.” she beamed at me with spread purple lips that parted to reveal perfectly straight, white teeth.

  This woman was a goddamned medical marvel, perfect in a way that couldn’t be natural. Still, that made her nice to look at. “I’m not looking to go anywhere else or do anything else.” She shook her head, and that purple hair moved along the ridge of her eyebrows. “I just want to be the best damn Marine I can be. I want to make them proud.”

  “Who?” I looked at her like she had just told me she wanted to keep breathing because, you know, it’s like the best way to stay alive and stuff. “Who the hell in your life has led you to believe that the only way to make them proud is by throwing yourself at some far-flung space rock and playing the odds that you’ll actually survive?”

  She blinked at me for a moment, obviously taken aback by both what I had just said and the way that I had said it. She had probably thought I was going to salute her or something. At the very least, she likely imagined that I was the way the Alliance made it look like all good soldiers were. I was unflinchingly supportive of all the stupid shit they did and this war they seemed to be in a constant state of losing.

  The thing was, she wasn’t necessarily wrong. I did believe in the war. I believed that, when someone comes and kicks your hornet’s nest, you sting the bastard. That’s the way it works, but I had seen more than I had ever wanted to when I joined up. I had been tortured more than once, had my ass kicked, and my faith tested. What was more, I just wasn’t in the mood right now.

  “I did this for myself,” she said, her voice cracking at the end. “I did this because it was the right thing to do and because I knew I couldn’t stand by while good men and women fought for me.” She shook her head again. “I couldn’t do nothing.”

  I nodded at her, looking at the fire in her eyes and feeling instantly guilty about both my tone and word choice. Who the hell was I to crush this woman’s spirits?

  If some old dick had come waltzing up to me in my first few spins around the galaxy, I probably would have given him the same song and dance that Jill was giving me right now. I believed everything that she did back then, and maybe that was part of why I had survived so long. Skill is important. Luck is too. You can’t underestimate the power of sheer piss and vinegar though. A hard head can keep you alive just as long as a strong back can. I didn’t need to go putting a dent in hers.

  “Good,” I said flatly. “I have no doubt you’ll be a hell of Marine.”

  It was a lie. I didn’t even know if she’d survive the day. Truth be told, it wasn’t looking good for any of us. The moon we were standing on would go dark in just a bit and, if what we knew about the other planetary systems in the Acburian Empire held true for this place, that would be when the real tests started. The bugs would go batshit when the sun went down.

  I watched a sense of relief fill Jill’s face. She wouldn’t have to give up on one of her heroes, at least not today. She could go on pretending I was the man with the plan, someone with all the answers who would swoop in at just the right moment and save the day.

  Maybe that was important too, or maybe it didn’t matter at all. What the Hell did I know?

  “Incoming message from Alliance Hall,” Annabelle said in my head. I came to a sudden stop as did Mina and the others. That led me to believe that this message was for everyone and they were all hearing it right now, thanks to their own personal comms.

  “Damn,” I muttered under my breath. I knew enough about the Alliance and the way they worked to know that, if they were cutting in right now, it wasn’t for our good.

  We were in the middle of a mission, trying to get to the top of this hill as quickly as possible. They wouldn’t interrupt our mission unless what they had to say was extremely important. Of course, in my experience, what was important to them wasn’t necessarily to us.

  I muttered my objection lowly, but that didn’t stop Mina from hearing me. Maybe because she was expecting it. Maybe because she was thinking the same thing. In any event, she gave me a small smirk as the horns started playing in my head, alerting me that the message was about to start.

  I kept eye contact with her until she broke it, looking down at the ground and listening to the words as they flooded our minds.

  “A message from the Alliance,” it started in a robotic, yet human enough voice. It was soft and soothing, but it sure as hell was no Annabelle. “In response to your exemplary work today, the Alliance has an upgrade credit which can be used for any weapon, long or short range. This credit must be used within the next ninety seconds and is restricted to offensive weaponry.”

  “That’s so cool,” Jill said from beside me, her mouth agape. It wasn’t every day the Alliance offers something for free and, in her short time here, I assumed she had never seen it before.

  “Wait for it,” Mina said sternly. I recognized the catch in her voice. Like me, she knew the Alliance wasn’t one to give gifts, even if they were rewards. This was about something else.

  “In addition, the Alliance would also like to gift you with atmospheric filtration chip downloads, which will allow you to convert the natural gases of this and nearly any foreign planet to something you can use,” the voice said into our heads. “This technology, along with your upgrade, will be delivered instantly as soon as you mentally sign this notice.”

  Just like that, a large notice appeared in my line of sight.

  “It’s a liability release,” I muttered, understanding what the big hurry was.

  T
he Alliance had screwed up sending us down here, and, as a result, we’d probably die because of it. The thing was, if we died, our relatives could sue their sanctimonious asses and probably wring a settlement out of them. This was the Alliance’s way of getting around that.

  They would dangle flashy, pretty tech at us in a moment where we’d have no time to think it through. The upgrades would help us survive, and the filtration meant we wouldn’t have to deal with masks. We’d basically be signing away our souls to protect our bodies, and they knew we had no choice because, in the end, you do anything you can to survive. At least, if you’re smart, you do.

  Didn’t mean I had to like it though. They were bartering for things we should have had for free. They were making us pay for the opportunity to get ourselves killed.

  That was the game though and, as I mentally signed the release form, I knew I had no choice but to keep playing it. I was in way too deep now.

  18

  Ninety seconds later, and it seemed like all of us had signed our grievances away on the dotted line in exchange for the chance at survival and of ditching those pesky helmets and masks we had grown so accustomed to.

  The idea of implanted filtration systems had been around for a while, though they had always been met with varying levels of success. The first people who went off world without a proper helmet and mask were almost immediately killed, suffocated by gases toxic to humans and left to be picked apart by the bugs.

  That incident made its way across Earth nearly as quickly as the people involved in it had died and did much to delay this sort of ‘wireless filtration’ idea. It was a full five years before they tried it again and, even with the current success of it, it still wasn’t a mainstream thing.

  Still, there hadn’t been anything close to an accident in years now and, given what we had been through and what we were likely to go through on this moon, I figured having the chance to go ‘commando’ wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.