by Joshua James
Lucky Shot
A Lucky’s Marines Prequel
Joshua James
Contents
Author’s Note
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Lucky Universe
I See You
Wakey Wakey
Rocky
Eggheads
Hammerheads
New Roma
Author’s Note
Lucky Shot is a prequel to the novel Lucky Universe. It takes place roughly 90 Empire standard years before the events of that story (about 20 biological years for Lucky).
In the interest of full transparency, there is some mild spoilery stuff here. Not much, and nothing that would ruin the enjoyment of Lucky Universe. But if you are a purist about these things (and I know you are out there!) then I would suggest reading Lucky Universe first.
If you are trying to get a sense of my writing style to decide if you want to take the leap on Lucky Universe, flip ahead a few pages and enjoy the extended sneak peek of Book 1 that I have put in the back of this prequel. It should give you a reasonably good idea of what Lucky’s crazy universe is like.
Here is a hint: It’s exciting, scary, exhilarating, and ultimately satisfying…but I might be biased.
Enjoy Lucky Shot!
Best wishes,
Joshua James
1
Lee just wanted to punch his little sister in the mouth.
He charged, closing the distance between them, trying to keep his swing compact so she couldn’t get inside of it.
She did.
He’d never seen her move that fast before. Or hit that hard.
Lee felt his breath crushed out of him under a barrage of sharp jabs. She was a vicious blur.
Lee had spent the last five years fighting his way through the worst hell-hole of a war anyone could remember. His home colony was long gone, his mother with it. He doubted more than a hundred colonists were still sucking air.
And that was just one of a thousand colonies they had lost to the Reds.
But that’s the way it goes. The Empire had blown the shit out of a thousand and one of the Cardinal Order’s colonies.
So they had won that war.
Oorah.
His sister landed a shot to his nose, and blood exploded everywhere, mostly on her.
Lee felt the blood begin to clot. The pain was dull. His energy only flagged for a fraction of a second, then he felt a cool sensation as an adrenaline cocktail was released into his bloodstream by his newly installed nanobots.
Where had this been when he was dragging his ass through the belly of the ESS Guiser, radiation-poisoned and bleeding out?
It had taken the medtechs a day of filling him to the brim with nanobots to keep him from dying. Now he got anything he wanted on demand.
Glory to the Empire!
His mother had made him repeat that phrase so many times in his life that it was forever on the tip of his tongue, even a decade after she had gone back to stardust.
Screw the Empire.
Glory to himself. And it was about damn time. How much killing had he done for the cause?
His sister split his lip. His bots staunched the flow of blood.
She split it again.
He just couldn’t keep up with her. He had to end this now.
Lee opened up his body and swung upward for her chin, aiming for a knockout punch.
He had her. She wasn’t prepared, didn’t expect it, hadn’t measured the distance.
And then she did.
She slid aside with ease and brought her own arm forward to meet his at the crook of his elbow.
He heard a small, far-off voice in his head, but there was too much interference to make out the words over his spiking blood pressure. Something his instructors had said crossed his mind, but it was gone.
The world spinning around you will do that.
The impact of her forearm to his elbow was jarring. He outweighed her by plenty, but somehow she was able to calculate the exact positioning needed to rotate with his punch and use his own momentum against him.
With lightning speed, she twisted his arm up and over her shoulder and then yanked it downward.
Lee had the vague sense that his feet weren’t touching the ground anymore, but of course that was impossible.
He heard a dull crack as his elbow gave out under the combined pressure of his weight and her strength.
The world spun around Lee and he smashed face-first into the unforgiving floor of the flight hanger, his limp lower arm flopping wildly.
He was blinded by blood exploding out of his smashed lip. He swallowed. Blood and teeth went down his throat. The front of his mouth was ragged pulp under his tongue.
The pain drained away as his nanobots again came to his rescue, but this time they were a little slower, the pain just a bit more acute. Even the bots could be worn down.
But he was still conscious. Somehow, he had been able to get his other arm in front of his face and keep his senses.
He tensed for another blow, but it didn't come.
What was she waiting for? He took the opening.
He swung his legs wide, sweeping under her. If he could bring her down to the ground where he could grapple with her, his size should help him—
As it turned out, his sister welcomed his plan.
She dove into him, slamming her sharp elbow into his chest, then rolled over him, catching him in a reverse chokehold. Her forward momentum and impossibly low center of gravity combined to again bring him up off the ground. He was left waving his arms around like an idiot.
She slammed him down, reversed around him and planted both knees in the middle of his chest.
He heard something crack in his chest as his breath was ripped from him. He tried to suck in air and choked on warm liquid.
He again heard the faint sound of a voice in his head, this time accompanied by a high-pitched whine in his ears.
He tried to roll over, then felt a foot slam into his side. The warm liquid exploded out of his mouth, a fountain of bile and blood from somewhere deep inside.
He was almost certain he had a punctured lung.
He was absolutely certain his sister was enjoying this.
He coughed up a red mist that splattered across her face. Her big smile remained.
He didn’t have the strength left to win this now, and he knew it, but he still wanted the satisfaction of wiping that smile off her face.
She smashed another elbow across his neck, choking him and bringing their heads together, face to face.
“Not so tough now, big brother,” she said.
He swung his face forward and felt the satisfying impact of his forehead to her face. Her head snapped back and blood blossomed from her nose.
Broken, he wagered. Not quite the knockout punch he had hoped for, but you have to take what you can.
She didn’t yelp, didn’t scream, barely stopped smiling. But her weight on his neck wavered for a moment, long enough for him to jerk over on his side, feeling a fresh explosion of pain from his chest. He was sure there were broken ribs digging deep into organs there.
His one good arm was still pinned, but his legs were free. He dropped back, using the moment when her weight was off him to bring a knee up, smashing into her back and sending her sprawling forward over the top of him.
It was wild and desperate, but it was enough to free him to scramble to his feet.
As he stood, he found himself face-to-face with Sergeant Hahn.
The smile on his face made
his sister’s look seem quaint.
He heard the voice in his head again. This time he realized what it was. His internal AI was warning him about—
His head jerked back as his sister grabbed a fist full of his tight-cropped hair.
Should have gone for the full buzz cut, he thought.
If she wanted to kill him, now would be the time. His neck was completely exposed.
Instead, he found himself tossed through the air like a rag doll.
Again.
Which was just as impossible this time as the last. And yet the universe couldn’t be made to understand this fact.
In his peripheral vision, he saw two very different sets of marines flanking this little show.
On one side, five smirking, smelly, ugly-ass, battle-hardened augmented marines were barely interested. They had a group of aging alert star-fighters to prep for a morning shakeout.
On the other side, a row of ten newly-minted auggies just like himself stood gawking, mouths half-open. One had a big grin on his face that Lee really wanted to knock off of him. That asshole Jonesy.
Lee had spent three weeks aboard this ship making sure these assholes knew he was the toughest shit around.
Little sis’ was fixing that.
Lee and his fellow noobs had just received their lifetime ticket to Frontier Marine world, courtesy of a few billion credits worth of artificial intelligence and nanotechnology that had been inserted into their bodies, along with a dura-alloy skeletal conversion that made them among the toughest warriors in the world.
Lee wasn’t feeling particularly tough right now.
There were only a couple thousand augmented marines in the Empire. Of those, most were assigned to colony duties. Only a few were Frontier Marines, destined to kick ass on the edges of the Empire.
That’s what they had sold him on when he signed up for this shit.
It wasn’t working out at the moment.
There were others among the Big 6, of course. Well, not the Union. They couldn't find their peckers without help. But the rest—their blood eyes would see to it that they got the tech soon enough, if they didn't already. The clones wouldn't let anybody get too far ahead.
Still, this little party probably represented one of the larger concentrations in the universe at the moment.
Nice to know he was getting his ass kicked in front of a good crowd.
Somebody yelled, “Do it, Razor!”
Lee recognized his sister’s callsign.
What had happened to the gangly little girl who jumped screaming on his back when she was sixteen while he had beaten up her drunk-ass boyfriend?
There was a short answer for that.
He got his ass busted for running guns and stealing planet jumpers and spent the last five years in a conscription platoon with a bunch of other lowlifes from various prison planets, serving as cannon fodder while his handlers wished he would hurry up and die already.
Meanwhile, his sister followed their parents into officer training and got into the military the legit way. She’d been augmented for years now. Lee should just accept that she had a big head start on him in the badass department.
But he was too stupid for that.
Lee made one last effort to twist his body around to get in position to do something. He wasn’t sure what, exactly. Just defend himself.
He didn’t make it.
Razor ripped him out of the air and slammed him over her knee. Fingers of pain blossomed from the impact in the small of his back.
His body bent backward. He felt his neck muscles strain as more unintelligible AI chatter filled his mind. Something was red and flashing in the HUD display in his mind.
That didn't seem good.
His head was impossibly close to the ground as his body folded backward over her knee. He felt his weight starting to shift and thought there still might be a chance if he could somehow flip over—
He felt Razor's arm slam down over his chest, adding her own strength to his weight and momentum.
With a loud crack, all the tension was released.
He flopped over like a dead fish and again found himself face-down on the ground. He couldn’t feel anything below his waist.
“You have a broken back,” said a cold voice in his head.
Of course. Now he could understand his internal AI perfectly. Thanks for nothing.
“Lower lumbar C-3. Regeneration to mobility, four minutes.” It paused. “Perhaps three.”
Someone put their foot under his side and kicked him over.
There was his little sister smiling down at him.
“Finish him!” said one of the Marines on the flight deck, laughing her ass off. Good to know someone is enjoying this.
“Rania,” Lee said, mind searching for something clever to say that would at least make him feel a little better about this beatdown. “I guess — ”
She smashed the heal of her boot into his face. He swallowed the rest of his teeth as his jaw cracked.
What. A. Bitch.
“OK,” said Sergeant Hahn, making no attempt to hide the laughter in his own voice. "Enough for now."
Rania raised her boot, but the twinkle hadn’t left her eye. He didn’t think he had ever seen his sister so happy.
He wheezed out spit and mucus. A single tooth bounced onto the hanger deck. He heard a smattering of snickers.
He couldn’t see them, of course, since his broken back hadn’t healed yet and he was stuck staring straight up.
Sergeant Hahn stepped into his line of sight.
“Still feeling lucky, Private?”
2
“Yes, sir,” Lee screamed.
It came out a muffled “Yab sab” through his destroyed mouth.
In fact, he did not feel lucky. He was just good. Damn good. That was how this whole thing started.
Jonesy, the absolute tool, had argued that Lee’s perfect ten for ten in morning drone gunnery practice had been luck. So Lee had bet him a month’s credits that he could hit any target at three times the range with just one shot. The idiot took him up on the offer.
Of course, Lee had spent weeks practicing that shot, and he missed more than he made, but sometimes you gotta roll the dice.
Jonesy said he cheated.
Lee couldn’t understand how a Marine like Jonesy had been nominated from the grunt pool for augmentation. The best of the best? One in ten thousand? Jonesy wasn’t the best of his morning shits.
So one thing led to another, and Jonesy begged Lee to kick his ass and Lee obliged him. Unfortunately, a staff sergeant happened to see the fight and decided Lee started it.
And Sergeant Hahn decided a lesson in humility and a lesson in advanced AI hand-to-hand combat would go nicely together.
And his sister? She just needed some catharsis, he reckoned. He wasn’t in the running for best big brother in the universe.
Case in point–they hadn’t spoken in three years.
The sergeant shook his head.
“Lance Corporal Savage,” Hahn said to his sister. “What is your opinion of Private Savage?”
“He’s a real piece of shit,” she replied, crisply.
He chuckled. Lucky could feel the eyes of the assembled fresh meat staring down at him.
“Be that as it may,” Hahn said, “have you previously been in the habit of kicking the shit out him without breaking a sweat?”
There was a pause. Lee could read her mind. This was the first time she had ever tried to land a punch on him, let alone succeeded.
“It was slightly easier than usual,” she said.
Cheap shot.
“And that, gentlemen,” he said, addressing the newly augmented marines, “is what you are now capable of.”
He prodded Lee’s prone body with one perfectly polished black boot. “And this is what you are capable of if you don’t learn how to coordinate with your AI for maximum effectiveness.”
He scanned the line.
“Flight training in 2 minutes. Comba
t gear, drones hot,” he said. “Dismissed.”
He nodded to a man standing near the star-fighters. “Corporal Dixon, get them underway. I will join shortly.”
The other man saluted, glanced down at Lee with disdain, then departed. The NCO wasn’t a big fan of the conscripted ranks in general, and no one liked an uppity conscript that didn’t die immediately in combat like he was supposed to.
They especially didn’t like conscripts who rose above their rank to get augmented. Lee might be the only one of those in the universe.
“Your sister tried to warn me, Private.”
Hahn was looking down at Lee. Neither spoke.
It was Rania who broke the silence.
“If you feel that a follow-up lesson is needed," she said, "I’m happy to oblige.” He couldn’t see her face, but he knew she was smiling.
Before the Sergeant could answer, Lee sputtered out, "Any time."
It was his standard answer to his sister since the beginning of time.
Hahn shook his head. “I goddamn love a cocky Marine,” he said. “Goddamn love ‘em! But you have to earn it. As of now, the only thing you have earned is the chance to fall behind in flight training, which will mean a week of catch-up sessions.”
The sergeant turned on his heel and started to march out of the hanger.
Lee ran his tongue around his mouth, amazed to find teeth. He wondered how long it would take before regeneration didn't seem amazing.
“But I haven’t learned my lesson yet, sir,” he said.
It was a crazy gamble. He might end up on spic n’ span duty for a month, but he had to throw the dice.
He had to keep Sarge talking for a little longer.
Hahn stopped walking, turned, and doubled-timed back and looked down at him again, rage in his face.
“What did you just say to me, Private?”
He felt his sister hold her breath.
