Marooned on a killbug planet, deadly foes outnumber and surround us. Supplies dwindling, morale decaying. Our orders - survive at any cost.
To motivate us to keep each other alive, the major has assigned the grim task of eulogizing the dead to whoever was standing closest when the enemy splattered their guts across the bug-tunnel walls.
Time and again, this task has fallen to me, Pvt. Timothy Archon.
Totally not my fault! That pervert, Grayson, for instance. So itchy for female company, he started chasing lady mantis tail. What did he expect would happen!
I grew up with these men. As kids, they bullied me and called me a weirdo. Now I have to say nice things at their funerals.
The genetically engineered freak. The sadist who speaks with a child's voice. The leaderboard junkie trying to break the record for most K-rations eaten without a bowel movement.
But as I tell their stories, I piece together how we got stranded on this planet, why the enemy hasn't already swarmed and overwhelmed us.
A few more clues, I might just figure out how to get us off this forsaken rock. Maybe even how to end this long, destructive war . . .
