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

by J. A. Cipriano

  “Mark, what the hell are you doing?” Mina cried behind me as I unslung my pulse laser.

  “Saving you,” I snapped over my shoulder as I dropped to my knees and took a shot at the closest flier. The clean beam of photons caught it through the thorax, blowing it in half and sending bits of superheated body parts across the ground between the worm and me. Well, at least I got that flier bounty before I kicked off.

  “Mark, you’re an idiot,” Mina said, loud enough to overcome the digital fanfare and tinkle of coins in my head.

  The flier’s body hit the ground, causing the rumbling of the sandworm to veer off course since I was no longer moving. As it thundered toward the fallen body, I shot another flier, causing them to home in on my position. More laser fire filled the air as I hopped to my feet and took off, drawing both the sandworm and the fliers away.

  “Go! I’ve got a sandworm to kill!” I cried, taking another pot shot at the fliers while the ground beneath me shook.

  The worm was coming closer, speeding up with each step I took. This was their shot because in a few seconds I’d be dead.

  “All right.” Mina turned to her girls. “Let’s go.”

  They made no bones about following orders. Even Claire did as she was told, taking off behind Mina the instant she counted down to ‘go.’ I guess emergencies bring out the soldier in everyone.

  The moment they moved, I let my rifle retract into my suit. The fliers were moving too much for me to get a bead on them and avoid their fire. Besides, that wasn’t the point. Instead, I turned my attention to the sandworm. If I was going out, well, I’d go out swinging.

  “Annabelle,” I said, “give me my chainsaw.” I began to laugh. This thing might kill me but not without some pain.

  The chainsaw appeared in my hand, the weight of it like an old friend come to comfort you in your last moments.

  I lifted my foot and stomped hard against the ground. As my heel slammed into the dirt of the alien moon, the ground beneath me gave way as a snarling mass swallowed me whole.

  20

  “Annabeth, helmet,” I cried as I slid into the open mouth of the creature.

  I knew my helmet wouldn’t offer much more protection once my shield failed, but as the metal of my suit re-materialized around my face, I felt a little better. Besides, it’d help filter out the absolutely disgusting smell of rancid meat from hitting my nose.

  “Helmet deployed,” Annabeth said as the thing’s tentacle-like tongues began to slap at my body, clinging to my shields like suction cups despite the electricity that had to be coursing through them. Then again, I remembered reading somewhere that sandworms didn’t feel pain. I’d always thought it was a misnomer but maybe I’d been wrong.

  “Good, this place stinks.” I glanced around for something I could do as the creature closed its jaws, causing its teeth to grind against my shields while the suckers held my torso in place.

  “Now, without that pressing problem to deal with, how do you plan on surviving, Mark?” Annabeth asked. “Because if you do not, you’ll be in violation of subsection C paragraph six of the Alliance Charter, and since you won’t be around to face those charges, your commanding officer will be.”

  “Dammit,” I snarled. “I didn’t just sacrifice myself so the Alliance could put Mina’s head on a platter.”

  “Then you’d better survive,” Annabeth said like I hadn’t planned on doing anything about it.

  No. I’d planned on doing what I always did. I was going to fight as hard as I could, scramble as much as I could, and hope to God I got lucky enough to make it out alive.

  “Divert ninety percent of power to shielding Annabelle,” I said, idly wondering what the bounty for a dead sandworm would be as I revved my chainsaw. See, one flaw with all those video game icons and crap was that you really couldn’t see the nameplate of something you were inside of.

  As I cut away the suckers holding me in place, she answered in a tone that reminded me that she was programmed to do whatever was necessary to save the integrity of this suit. “Already done, Lieutenant Ryder.”

  In addition to self-preservation, the Alliance would, of course, want to retrieve whatever they could of it. Whether or not they’d be willing to fish through a sandworm’s guts for the prize was another thing I suppose.

  “May I also state that being a martyr doesn’t suit you?” she added.

  I slammed hard against the chomping teeth of the thing with my chainsaw as the rows and rows of sharpened incisors ground against me and, though I could feel pain and discomfort, I couldn’t feel much more because my shields were still holding. Though, for how much longer, I didn’t know.

  “I don’t need the snark, Annabelle,” I said as the teeth surrounding me began to spin like drill bits, grinding into me. I took the opportunity to slam my chainsaw into its mouth, and as I did, viscous green blood splattered over me.

  The creature moved, and my whole world went topsy-turvy as the thing bucked violently. It must have tilted back because I slid forward down its throat as its mouth finally closed, leaving me in complete darkness. “And maybe give me some—”

  “Sonic sight,” she finished as my eyes shifted the way they saw inside the suit.

  I kept forgetting that, during times when my heart rate rose to an obviously panicked state, my suit didn’t need to wait for verbal commands. In times when it was obvious that my sorry ass was in major trouble, and the pitter patter of my heart suggested I didn’t know what the hell to do about it, Annabelle could go by my neurological impulses or even take the reins herself if it seemed the suit itself was in danger of being completely destroyed.

  The sonic sight was a good move. Where thermal vision would have proven completely useless inside the belly of the beast (where heat abounded) sonic sight would allow me to look around with sonar.

  I felt the crunch of the things teeth against me as it continued to chew, grinding against my shielding like a destructive massage. I saw it differently now though. Like I was dropped into a black ocean, I saw an endless abyss of darkness around me and not a lot else.

  “Give me a shield check, Annabelle,” I said, swallowing hard as the energy shielding I could see through my helmet lit and shimmered as the teeth pressed against it.

  “Shields are at seventy-seven percent and falling. The external temperature is wreaking havoc with my own internal power source.”

  I was afraid of that. In addition to the corrosive internal liquids in this thing’s mouth, it was hot as hell in here. The combination wouldn’t bode well for me.

  “How long do I have, Annabelle?”

  “Until what, Lieutenant Ryder?”

  “Until Christmas, Annabelle. Until the shields give out, and I become monster food. What do you think I mean?” I scoffed right before I was tossed backward through the back of the sandworm’s throat and down its gullet. It must have decided it was easier just to choke me down and be done with it.

  “Now who’s being snarky?” Annabelle shot back as I drove my chainsaw into its flesh along the way down, cutting through the sandworm’s insides and spilling more viscous slime across my body.

  There was just one problem. As the blade hit the sandworm’s skin, it screeched and began to smoke. No matter which side I came at its armored flesh, I wouldn’t be able to cut through it, and worse, I risked breaking my chainsaw before I could do more damage.

  “Annabelle!” I yelled, frustrated as I changed tactics, pulling the blade back to a depth that let me slice and dice without worry. Unfortunately, the sandworm didn’t seem to care about me turning its insides into sashimi.

  “E.T.A. for complete shield failure is three minutes,” she said. “Death is projected to follow thirty seconds after that.”

  It would be thirty painful seconds. With the shielding gone, the corrosive liquids in the sandworm’s belly would eat through even the Ellebrium of my suit and then, when that was finished, it would devour me in my entirety.

  The top layer of skin would be the f
irst to go. That would be the most painful. It would likely eat through my eyes too, blinding me to everything but the pain. The pain and the still horrible stench. Most of the pain would be gone by the time it had worked its way to my tissues and bone. I would be dead in seconds, everything I was destroyed and replaced with dissolved gunk.

  It might sound a little grotesque and way too detailed, but anatomy is something they teach you before you become a Marine. If you understand your body, you can use it better. At least, that’s the idea. In addition, it helps to give us a better understanding of when things have gone too far, or when it’s clear that our bodies won’t survive what it’s been put through.

  That’s why there’s a kill switch in our suits, a series of words that when spoken together will initiate instant death for whoever is wearing the suit. It’s supposed to help us when things are darkest. It’s mercy, a safety net against the idea of a horrible and painful death.

  I had never seriously thought about using it and hadn’t even let it cross my mind cosmetically in years. I wasn’t that kind of guy. The pain wasn’t something I was afraid of, not even remotely. If so many of the grassfed boys and girls I had seen over the years could bite it without having to use the kill code, I definitely could.

  Still, I couldn’t deny that all alone here, with absolutely no way to get out and nothing to do besides suffer and die, the thought was absolutely crossing my mind again, and not just cosmetically.

  Five little words. That was all it would take to put an end to this. Five words and I wouldn’t have to go through the hurt, to suffer the indignity. Sure, my body would still be destroyed by this thing’s acids. I would still be churned into shit and be passed at this creature’s first convenience, but I would go out on my own terms. Five little words, and I’d finally learn what Bill Langham and his son now knew. What happened next and if it was all worth it.

  No.

  I shook my head, remembering myself, remembering who I was. I wasn’t some weak little bitch. I wasn’t a grassfed, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to go down like one. I was on postage stamps. I was the name in anthems. I had been the main character in no less than three made-for-holovision movies and, God help me, the next one wasn’t going to end with me being eaten by a goddamn bug.

  But what could I do? I was already fucked and not in a good way.

  “Shielding is down to forty-seven percent,” Annabelle reported. “Full shield failure is estimated in ninety seconds. Internal database scanning comes up with no viable options for survival. Should I initiate recording for your last will, testament, and message?”

  “No,” I said, stubborn as I had ever been. “I’ve got nothing to leave, and everyone I care about already knows that. Plus,” I tightened the grip on my chainsaw, “I’m not going to die today.”

  I took as deep of a breath as I could. Even with the fancy schmancy filtration system we’d upgraded to, it was hard to get a good breath. That had to be because most of the power that would be going to silly things like life support was going into shielding.

  Still, I couldn’t let things like breathing get to me. I needed to keep focused and keep clear. I had ninety seconds to do what no man had ever done before in the known history of this or any other world. I was going to have to survive getting eaten by a sandworm.

  The thing was, if I had to put money on anyone doing it, I would have wanted to pick myself, anyway.

  “Wish me luck, Annabelle. Deploy foot prongs.”

  Before the words had left my mouth, the prongs jutted from my toes slashing into the tender insides of the sandworm and halting me in place before I could fall all the way to its stomach. I wasn’t sure exactly where that would be or what it would entail, but I guessed the acid in its stomach would be way worse than what was in its saliva.

  “You have said the phrase ‘luck is for the weak’ sixty-seven times in my presence,” she reminded me.

  It was a stupid phrase, something from a movie I’d seen. In truth, I believed luck was as big a part of survival as training. It sounded cool though, and it did a lot to make me feel like a big man when I needed to. There was a lot to be said for pumping yourself up when the chips were down. I envied people stupid enough not to know how deep the shit they were standing in was. I had never been that fortunate.

  “You’re right,” I replied and swung my chainsaw, striking the worm’s flesh and splitting it into gooey bits.

  The thing was that every time I struck, it seemed to heal before my eyes, but I ignored that, focusing on carving away its flesh until all I could see was its skin once more. That was when I realized this wasn’t going to work. I still wouldn’t be able to penetrate its skin.

  “I must remind you that you have less than thirty seconds before complete shield failure,” Annabelle said. “I ask you once again to consider saving your last words for posterity.”

  “Is that coming from the Alliance?” I growled, dropping the chainsaw and allowing it to recall into my suit. My last words would be broadcast all over the world, primetime news as it was. “No thanks.”

  I didn’t want to be responsible for brainwashing any more kids. I couldn’t go so far as to say I didn’t think they should join. Wars are complicated, and everyone is different. But I didn’t want to be responsible. Besides, to say my last words was to admit defeat, and I had one more trick up my sleeve.

  “Annabelle, a few years ago, I added a toxic expulsion system, right?” The memory of a day when I accidentally ingested mercury gas from a nearby explosion floated through my mind.

  “Affirmative.”

  “I want to use it, but I want to point all the toxins outward, through my thruster ports.”

  “Lieutenant Ryder, I—”

  “Do what I said,” I barked. “Now. Consider it a final request.”

  “As you wish,” Annabelle said, “and Lieutenant Ryder, it has been an honor.”

  It was as close to sentimental as my suit was going to get, but it meant a lot.

  If I was lucky, I wouldn’t need it though. By expelling all the poison in my system, I’d cause the worm to barf me up. You’d be surprised how much toxin built up in the human body, especially on an alien world, filters be damned. From errant particles to muscle fatigue toxins, we humans were a mess.

  Of course, the expulsion system also expelled everything else while it was at it, every kind of bodily waste from piss to shit and everything in between, and I was hoping it tasted just the right kind of gross to trigger the thing’s gag reflex.

  It wasn’t much, but hopefully, it would be enough. I tensed as I felt the liquid pour out of my suit, thinking of home, the past, and all the shit you think about right before you die.

  Then I just let it go.

  “Ten seconds, Lieutenant Ryder,” Annabelle said. “Shall I count you down?”

  “No, I like the quiet.”

  “As you wish.”

  I closed my eyes and floated there, letting the enzymes and acid do their work.

  But then something happened. The sandworm shook, and I was thrust forward. The world lit up with sound, and I saw a different sort of light, actual light.

  The damn thing’s mouth was open. It was working. This worm was about to barf me right up.

  A smile started to spread across my face as I rocketed forward in a wave of sticky green bile.

  A loud explosion nearly blinded me. Acting on my thoughts, Annabelle switched my sight back to normal.

  I saw guts and goo and blood as I fell to the ground. I lay there, gasping for air, covered in blood, bile, and shit.

  Looking up, I saw Mina standing over me, an infuriatingly satisfied look on her face and the psionic bow she’d used earlier in her hands.

  “I had that,” I said breathlessly.

  “Yeah,” she smirked. “You say that a lot, don’t you?”

  21

  “You’re not supposed to be here,” I said, looking up at Mina, gun slung over her shoulder.

  She reached a hand down to help me
up, and I took it, allowing her to help lift me, though I was a little pissed off about the whole thing.

  “And you’re not supposed to be alive,” she remarked as I stood, gathering myself and taking a look at the pieces of monster and guts that surrounded me. “Aren’t you glad we’re both so unpredictable?”

  “I told you, I had that,” I answered gruffly, realizing that even though I was alive in a moment where I absolutely shouldn’t have been, I was upset about not getting the kill.

  This was a sandworm, after all. If it wasn’t going to kill me, the least I could get is the bragging rights of being able to take it down, not to mention all the weapons and upgrades that bounty could have bought.

  She leveled a stare at me that told me she didn’t believe me, which was reasonable, given that no one in the history of the world had ever survived what I just did. Still, I wasn’t an ordinary Marine. Then again, neither was she.

  “I tossed some mess into its stomach, got it to barf me up,” I said, trying to explain my case.

  “I figured that,” she answered. “The damn thing was retching like it was about to combust.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her. “You saw that I was about to come out and you still fired into its open mouth?” Anger spiked in me.

  “Of course I did,” she answered smugly. “I figured that if you were even still alive at all, it was because your shields had stayed up. A few psionic arrows wouldn’t change that.” She shrugged. “I linked them to the mental override I’d bought for the fliers, and then used a really expensive death command protocol.” She shrugged. “Even if they had hit you, it wouldn’t have mattered.”

  As I followed her logic, I was inclined to agree, moreover, I was impressed as hell. For that to have worked, she’d have had to have shot an arrow through its open mouth and into its central nervous system. It was a one in a million shot, and not something that could probably ever be repeated, especially if the sandworm was trying to eat you at the time. Only that hadn’t been the case this time. It’d been focused on throwing me up, giving her the time she’d needed to take the shot, and if it had been anyone other than her, they’d have still screwed the pooch.