text: [Themes: Game, Science Fiction, strong profanity]
  
  > Look around
  The landscape is pitch black, even in your goggles. No heat from the freezing swampwater. Out of the blackness, looming shapes in obscene colors. You aren't supposed to see colors through these goggles, and you wonder if you're doing worse than you thought.
  
  You were right. New mushrooms have grown, dozens of them, eight feet high. You can't get much of a sight beyond them. There's too many. You don't have any ammo to waste, now.
  
  You hear the thunder, the singsong chirping, the freight train whistle doing its doppler effect, doubled, tripled. All the bugs are back. More than ever.
  
  A tick whizzes by you to your left, just missing you. You hear it hiss its hatred.
  
  > Shoot tick
  You blast another tick as it flies by to the right, dripping poison. The mushroom right in front of you warps, rots, seems to right itself. You destroy it. There's another deadly one behind it. You shoot that one, too, and another.
  
  > Shoot tick
  Charlene's aim is true, and you wipe out what you hope is the last tick of this wave. Once again, it's too late. The murshrooms have done their work. The crazed behemoth charges; once again, you are surrounded. Once again, new segments arrive from nowhere, spinning in circles around you.
  
  Mocking your hopes, one last tick comes, and this one has your name on it.
  
  > Shoot tick
  You fire at the tick, and miss.
  
  > Shoot tick
  You fire at the tick, and miss. It's going to get you.
  
  > Shoot tick
  You brace yourself for your last stand. You take aim at that tick, right in its glassy, metallic blue-green eyes. You fire, and miss. One last chance, it's almost here.
  
  > Shoot tick
  You get it from behind. Oh, shit, you think. The fucking irony. The tick sails past, unharmed, as one of the segments of the beast crushes you, biting off your legs.
  
  There's no time to feel pain, or maybe there isn't any pain. Some sort of anesthetic in the saliva, you remember. You scream anyway, just like Chub. You're not going down quietly. You try to turn your rifle around, fire at the damn thing point-blank, but suddenly your arms don't work.
  
  > Shoot tick
  That was the last one.
  
  You're flipped over on your back, and something viscous and yellow oozes onto your faceplate, dissolving it. Suddenly your eyes don't work, and you can't scream. You see a dull red that turns brown and black in splotches, like the way the colors on a bubble turn before the bubble pops, and it's dead.
  
  > wait for a while
  The last thought that comes to you makes you laugh. It's that old joke. What's the last thing to go through a bug's mind as it hits your windshield? Its --.
  
  > look at what you're carrying with you
  You are carrying:
  a combat suit (being worn)
  a waterproof boots (being worn)
  a helmet (being worn)
  a set of night vision goggles (being worn)
  a belt of ammo clips (being worn)
  a backpack (being worn and closed)
  Charlene
  a holovid
  
  Your forehead just started to itch.
  
  > open the backpack
  You open the backpack, revealing food rations, a canteen, a letter and a zip pack of stims.
  
  > read the letter
  It's a letter to your folks, to be sent in case you're killed in the line of duty. You're hoping someone survives this mission to send it. No. You're hoping nobody needs to send the damn thing. Not this time.
  
  > examine the stims
  It's stuff to keep you jacked up and alert. You've used up your ration already, but you still got some extras you palmed off the medic.
  
  > look at the rations
  Today's food rations, in compact powder packets.
  
  Duggers swipes his holovid from you. "Hey man, don't you never give nothing back?" he says. He gives his girlfriend's picture a quick ogle before stuffing it into a side pocket of his pants.
  
  > eat rations
  Not until you clear the sector and establish basecamp for the full landing party.
  
  > 1
  You affirm Chub's authority.
  
  > Wait
  You do nothing. Chub's voice starts counting down. You can hear the strain in her voice, the pitch rising and falling in synchronization with the cabin's spastic lurching and yawing.
  
  > Wait
  You do nothing.
  
  Chub says, "Four ..."
  
  > Wait
  You wait.
  
  Chub says, "Three ..."
  
  > wait
  You wait.
  
  Chub says, "Shit ...!"
  
  > Go upwards
  You swing yourself from the hatchway up into your emergency station. You're already starting to sweat inside your suit, but there isn't time to adjust the coolant controls.
  
  Chub says, "Shit!"
  
  > wait awhile
  You hold one more second. Chub says, "Mark!"
  
  > pull the levers
  You pull hard on the levers, which ratchet into a locked position with a satisfying, weighty "ka-chunk." From above, there is a noise like a screech owl colliding with a sheet of inch-thick plexiglass, and then the cabin seems to stop in midair, jolting everything that's not nailed down, which includes you and Duggers.
  
  Chub saunters into view. "Good work, Mitchum. All right, let's strap in and get ready for touchdown. That means you too, Duggers."
  
  Duggers says, "I got a hand on the strap, don't I?"
  
  Chub says, "Fine. Stand up if you want. When your kneecaps blow out and your hamstrings are severed by the compound fractures of your thigh bones you can crawl your ass through the swamp. Doesn't make any difference to me, as long as you keep one hand free to salute."
  
  Duggers gives Chub a severe salute and lowers his stubborn ass down onto the bench. You plunk down next to him.
  
  The cabin creaks and shudders. Chub checks her chronometer.
  
  > wait
  You wait. Duggers shifts his weight forward, ready to spring into action.
  
  Chub says, "Five, four, three..."
  
  > wait awhile
  You wait.
  
  Chub says, "Tw--"
  
  With a jaw-splintering jolt, the AVLC hits the swampwater. Chub is already on her feet, grabbing extra rations and munitions. Yeah, like we'll last long enough to need those, you think.
  
  > go upwards
  (first removing the straps)
  You get off the bench and swing yourself up into the emergency station.
  
  Duggers says, "Blowing the hatch..." Fwoom! There's a white flare in your goggles, and the hatch disappears into darkness. Instantly, freezing algae water pours into the opening. Duggers leaps out into it as the cabin starts to reel, pitching aftward.
  
  > Go outside
  You get off the emergency station.
  
  There's dick-all to see here, even with the goggles on. Armory cabinets, supply shelves, two brushed-steel benches, safety straps. The emergency station is a swivel chair three steps up a ladder, facing a panel with rugged switches and levers.
  
  Chub is at the hatchway, standing firm against the inrushing water, motioning for you to get out.
  
  You force yourself out of the craft, fighting the freezing water. Your legs seize up a few steps from the sinking craft, or maybe they're just caught in the muck. You lose your balance, but can't move your feet to stabilize yourself. Slime splashes up into your faceplate. Your hands sink into something gelatinous. Everything is cold. You must be underwater.
  
  > Go upwards
  You put your hands down, hoping to raise your weight, but there's no support. Your arms sink like toothpicks into a sponge cake.
  
  > Clean faceplate
  You lift your arm to wipe off your faceplate, and a searing pain shoots from your shoulder down to the end of your pinky. You grit your teeth and ignore it. You figure you can probably still hold and fire your weapon, so there's no use crying about it. You smear the slime away with your other hand, and see the marshland.
  
  The landscape is pitch black, even in your goggles. No heat from the freezing swampwater. Out of the blackness, looming shapes in obscene colors. You aren't supposed to see colors through these goggles, and you wonder if you're doing worse than you thought.
  
  The shapes are mushrooms, hundreds of them, rising on their moist stalks, ballooning heads eighteen feet around, eight feet high. You can't get much of a sight beyond them. There's too many mushrooms. Maybe you should waste some ammo clearing a sightline. Then again, maybe you don't have any ammo to waste, now.
  
  You can see Chub and Duggers here.
  
  Duggers and Chub are standing in front of you, pointing and screaming at you, wondering why you didn't answer them.
  
  You say, "Sorry, Sergeant. I fell down and almost drowned."
  
  Chub and Duggers start to laugh. They loud enough to shake the ground. The laughter stops when you see that a vibration is rippling the water. The ground really is shaking.
  
  Duggers whispers, "Heads up! Heads up!"
  
  Chub whips out her plasma rifle. You whip out Charlene. Charlene's your partner, ready for the dance. You draw some strength from her, ignoring the spasms in your bad arm.
  
  Easy girl. Just... hold it ... steady.
  
  > eat stims
  (first taking the zip pack of stims)
  Easy there, soldier. No need to overmedicate yourself. You don't want to end up with a problem.
  
  Chub says, "I've called for reinforcements, but they won't come in until we hold this position for a while. No use aiding a lost cause."
  
  You say, "It is a lost cause, isn't it? The bugs are just going to keep coming."
  
  The vibration comes again. Somewhere, far ahead, twisting its way closer, the bug is coming.
  
  > Shoot bug
  You hear the roar of many feet, so many feet it makes your stomach turn. Up ahead, through that maze of mushrooms, you see a slickened shape pass by, west to east.
  
  Chub shouts, "Fire!"
  
  You fire Charlene into the darkness. She purrs and growls. She's jumpy today, you can tell. Or maybe you are. Duggers fires. Chub fires. Mushrooms explode into spores. Fast-growing spores, you remember. In ten minutes, there will be more of them, full-sized. How are you supposed to win a war like this?
  
  > Shoot bug
  All you hit are more mushrooms, but you clear a path. Up ahead, the behemoth twists like a snake, heading west, then east, then directly at you. Duggers fires at the head of it, and the head explodes, but the beast keeps coming. It turns east again.
  
  > Shoot bug
  You fire at the beast, cutting the bug in two. The damn segments don't stop moving, though. Now there's two bugs, each twisting this way and that. One segment reaches a small tunnel, formed by columns of mushrooms to each side, and it twists between them, heading straight for you.
  
  "Fire! Fire!" Chub screams.
  
  > go east
  You slog a few steps in that direction.
  
  Chub splits the centipede again in two. They're coming at you from both sides now.
  
  Duggers is right in the tick's path. He stands his ground, shouting at the sonofabitch. Duggers fires at it, misses. Fires again, misses. It's coming in too fast.
  
  > eat stims
  (first taking the zip pack of stims)
  Easy there, soldier. No need to overmedicate yourself. You don't want to end up with a problem.
  
  The tick mows Duggers down, its sticky feet latching onto his body. You see his face purple and blacken as he's carted away to some nest to be digested. There is a scream, and then silence.
  
  Dead silence. The bugs are gone. There's two of you left.
  
  > Inventory
  You are carrying:
  a combat suit (being worn)
  a waterproof boots (being worn)
  a helmet (being worn)
  a set of night vision goggles (being worn)
  a belt of ammo clips (being worn)
  a backpack (being worn and open)
  food rations
  a canteen
  a letter
  a zip pack of stims
  Charlene
  
  You were right. More mushrooms have grown up already. It's harder to see. Up ahead, you see the segmented beast twisting this way and that. Up ahead, you hear another tick approaching like a dive bomber, coming right at you and Chub.
  
  Up ahead, you hear the thrum. Wave number two. Or is it just a continuation of the first wave?
  
  Something else, something new. Feet clicking, splashing, an almost musical chirp as the legs saw back and forth. What the hell? Some sort of cricket? No.
  
  > look at the goggles
  The night vision goggles are an older model of specs. Apparently, they're going to be more useful on this mission than the top of the line version. Something about better motion interpolation and better contrast in the -4C to 4C temperature range.
  
  It's a scorpion, sidling sideways. Fortunately, it's not coming at you. You take it out with one quick shot. You're getting better at this.
  
  You'd better get even better, fast. Here comes that tick, with its screaming song, with its poisonous legs, turning the mushrooms purple and blue.
  
  Here comes the beast itself. Chub cuts it into three parts, damn her eyes.
  
  > Shoot bug
  While you destroy one of the three segments, Chub concentrates her fire on the tick. She vaporize it with only about six yards to spare. Plasma spray and unvaporized bug bits sizzle over both of you, a wet coat of death.
  
  And then you hear another tick, bearing down on you, following its kamikaze partner, poisoning even more mushrooms.
  
  > Shoot tick
  You take a lucky shot and destroy the second tick before it even gets close, before it can poison too many mushrooms, but it's already too late.
  
  One of the centipede segments hit the poisoned mushrooms, and the oil gets into its skin, scrambling its stupid bug neurons. Crazed, it charges forward, straight at you. Another segment hits another poisoned shroom, and it, too, charges screaming at you.
  
  The two segments swoop down on either side of you and Chub, circle, and play back and forth, zigzagging. The poison's worn off, thankfully.
  
  > Shoot segment
  You charge, firing with deadly aim. One down. You're just about to congratulate yourself when Chub shouts a warning.
  
  You see more centipedes arriving out of the darkness to your left and right. Where are they coming from? Just two segments each, a head and a tail, joining the dance. There's four of these damn things now, and more every minute.
  
  > give the stims to dugger
  You can only do that to something animate.
  
  > give the stims to Chub
  (first taking the zip pack of stims)
  Easy there, soldier. No need to overmedicate yourself. You don't want to end up with a problem.
  
  You shoot and shoot, vaporizing as many as you can. You start to think you're winning, that you're going to get out of this, when out of the corner of your eye, you see Chub backing up, not looking where she's going. You yell for her to move, to watch out. You're still busy firing as you try to move closer to her, to yank her out of the way, to give her cover, but it's too late. A new segment dances into the marsh, runs Chub down, stomps her into the muck. You hear a shriek in your helmet that becomes a helpless gurgle. The beast drips acid out of its flanks, out of its disgusting glands, and something sizzles underwater.
  
  A final shot from your rifle sails into the gloom. Far away, a mushroom explodes.
  
  Again, silence. And you're the only one left.
  
  > Shoot bug
  You can't see for all of the mushrooms blocking your way. You can hear movement, far ahead, but you can't see anything but the mushrooms. They're different colors now. Are you hallucinating? And where's the backup Chub called for? How long are they going to take?
  
  You vent your frustrations on the mushrooms, shooting again and again. They explode, releasing spores that will grow more of them soon. You don't care. You need the space to move if you're going to win this battle, if you're going to survive.
  
  You know, though, that it's just a matter of time. You wonder what the point of this is, and you laugh. It's a sick joke to someone up there in HQ, someone in a chushy office on Atari Prime. It's just some stupid game.
  
  > shoot mushroom
  Charlene's singing now. She's found her sweetest rhythm, and you follow along with it. You hear the thunder, the singsong chirping, the freight train whistle doing its doppler effect, doubled, tripled. All the bugs are back. More than ever. You and Charlene are ready. You clear your sightlines, blowing away dozens of mushrooms.
  
  A tick whizzes by you to your left, just missing you. You hear it hiss its hatred.
  
  > Shoot tick
  You blast another tick as it flies by to the right, dripping poison. The mushroom right in front of you warps, rots, seems to right itself. You destroy it. There's another deadly one behind it. You shoot that one, too, and another.
  
  > Shoot tick
  Charlene's aim is true, and you wipe out what you hope is the last tick of this wave. Once again, it's too late. The murshrooms have done their work. The crazed behemoth charges; once again, you are surrounded. Once again, new segments arrive from nowhere, spinning in circles around you.
  
  Mocking your hopes, one last tick comes, and this one has your name on it.
  
  > shoot CENTIPEDE
  You fire at the segments, but it's hard to hit them when they're this close, when there's so many. Either one of them or the tick is going to get you.
  
  > shoot CENTIPEDE
  You take careful aim at one of the segments and destroy it, but another takes its place, and another. You brace yourself for your death. The tick is almost here.
  
  > Shoot tick
  You get it from behind. Oh, shit, you think. The fucking irony. The tick sails past, unharmed, as one of the segments of the beast crushes you, biting off your legs.
  
  There's no time to feel pain, or maybe there isn't any pain. Some sort of anesthetic in the saliva, you remember. You scream anyway, just like Chub. You're not going down quietly. You try to turn your rifle around, fire at the damn thing point-blank, but suddenly your arms don't work.
  
  > shoot CENTIPEDE
  You spin on your heels, destroying a bug that was about to get you from behind. The tick mows you down, killing you instantly.
  
  > shoot yourself
  You're flipped over on your back, and something viscous and yellow oozes onto your faceplate, dissolving it. Suddenly your eyes don't work, and you can't scream. You see a dull red that turns brown and black in splotches, like the way the colors on a bubble turn before the bubble pops, and it's dead.
  
  > shoot yourself
  The last thought that comes to you makes you laugh. It's that old joke. What's the last thing to go through a bug's mind as it hits your windshield? Its --.