Battle ARC: ARC Angel Series Book 2

by Toby Neighbors

“You look like a bug in that thing,” Penny said in a low, rumbling voice.

  “It felt a little awkward at first, but you get used to it.”

  “You were running faster than I thought possible with that big-ass gun. I suppose the suit gives you super speed?”

  “Reflexive materials in the souls of the feet and palms of the hands,” Cash explained. “It’s like running on a spring board.”

  “I guess they’ll be outfitting every grunt in the corps in those things before you know it.”

  “Not if the Air Force gets them first,” Cash replied. “The brass is fighting it out as we speak.”

  Penny just shook his head. Like Cash, the big staff sergeant didn’t care for officer politics. He seemed pleased with the outcome of the battle.

  “Nice to get in a few licks though,” Penny said. “These damn aliens been kicking our ass too long.”

  “And now they just run away,” Cash said.

  “No sense trying to fight a swarm of bees,” Penny said. “Better to just avoid them.”

  “Let’s hope they don’t catch on to the ambush plan. I don’t want to find out what happens if they don’t turn away from a single platoon.”

  “I tell you what happens,” Penny grumbled. “They run that platoon to the ground. I’ve seen it. And there’s nothing left, not a scrap of uniform, or a piece of equipment. They consume it all, even the blood.”

  It was Cash’s turn to shake his head. He hoped it was something he never had the misfortune of seeing in person.

  47

  Summit designated Gladiator Three, Nero’s Temple, Augustan Desert, Neo Terra, Tau Ceti system

  Angel looked at the platoon of Marines below her on the hillside. They were testing their camouflaging equipment, which was really just dust colored solar blankets. With the strangely colored material over their bodies, they Marines blended into the hillside. No one knew for sure if the Swarm had a sense of smell. The research on the fallen drones showed no olfactory organs, at least none that the xenobiologists could identify. If the Swarm operated completely by sight, the ambush stood a chance. It was a reassuring sight, even though the Swarm was still over a hundred kilometers away.

  With her battle helmet linked to the local area network transmitted from the communication equipment at the base of the primary hill, Angel heard the communications from Major Hammonds. She knew the first encounter had been successful. Unfortunately, she couldn’t pull up the tactical plot which showed the position of every unit and the enemy in almost real time. Her suit simply didn’t have the capabilities she hoped for. When a lieutenant of equal rank arrived huffing and puffing to the summit of the hill with a radio transmitter on his back, Angel was more than happy to be relieved.

  She had been on watch for several hours, even though there was nothing to see. The sun was setting, and the prairie was empty. Not even a wind stirred the dust that coated the rocks and shrubs.

  “Careful getting down the mountain,” her replacement said. “That climb’s a bitch.”

  “Thanks,” Angel said, knowing she could cartwheel down in the ARC suit, but not wanting to discourage the officer.

  He was checking in with his radio as she hurried away. The hillside was steep, made up of loose rubble that gave way easily if she wasn’t careful where she stepped. She took her time on the descent. There was no need to hurry. The Swarm was too far away to be a concern yet, and she had no other responsibilities with the Marines. She was headed to the command post where Colonel Goldman was coordinating the ambush. It was also where Captain Nance and Lieutenant Jin “Zilla” Mi were waiting for the Swarm to get close enough that they would need to move into position. If Angel were honest with herself, she was dreading being in close quarters with the two people she’d come to resent so much.

  “Drover Two reporting,” came a voice over the command channel.

  Angel stopped her descent to listen.

  “Jupiter Overwatch, we have contacted the enemy and they are turning. I repeat, they are turning.”

  “We see that Drover Two,” Commander Mercer’s voice was unmistakable. “Excellent work. Get your unit out of the area and proceed to your second operational coordinates.”

  Angel knew the mobile units would leap-frog back and forth, moving to intercept the Swarm if the aliens veered off course. It was a tricky plan logistically. Each mobile unit had multiple operation points. Angel didn’t envy Commander Mercer, who was keeping tabs on the Swarm and the mobile units.

  “Emperor One,” Mercer continued. “We are tracking the Swarm. Stand by for an update.”

  “Roger that,” one of Goldman’s communication officers responded.

  Angel continued her descent. She felt hopeful, but also afraid. If the plan failed, they would have to try something else, and the entire CSF was running short of ideas. On the other hand, if they succeeded in leading the Swarm into the trap, she would have to risk her life to disrupt the hive mind. Angel knew that once she was ordered into action her fears would be forgotten, but the dread of anticipation was difficult to live with.

  She reached the base of the hill and looked around. In the fading daylight, she could see movement on the hills around her. The desert had a sense of majesty, but to Angel it felt old and abandoned. Looking up at the hills and the mountains beyond them, she felt small and weak. Those hills were rugged and foreboding. There was nothing welcoming about the ambush site. It made her wonder if the Swarm would actually move into the trap. They traversed the McDuall Mountains, but had fallen into a trap that Angel had set for them. She’d come close to their queen during the fighting. She hadn’t seen the creature, only the protective drones who covered their leader with their bodies to shield her from attack.

  It seemed too much to ask that the creatures might actually fall into another trap in the mountains. Unfortunately, they had no way of knowing how intelligent the Swarm really was. The drones had brains the size of a plum, yet they moved with coordinated precision that even humans couldn’t match. The only explanation seemed to be a collective hive mind, one vastly intelligent creature controlling all the others. Yet, if that intellect was so vast, wouldn’t it sense they were harrying it for a reason? Wouldn’t it recognize the danger of moving into the mountains after nearly being destroyed there not so long ago?

  Angel couldn’t answer those questions. No one could. They just didn’t know enough about the enemy they were fighting. The plan seemed to be working, but would their luck hold? Angel didn’t feel very lucky.

  “Emperor One, we have a new course. And it’s damn close to perfect,” Commander Mercer said. There was a tone of excitement in her voice. “I’m recommending a feint at dawn. It should induce the Swarm to veer just slightly, which would put it directly on course with Nero’s Temple.”

  “That is excellent news, Jupiter. We’ll be ready. Keep us informed of any changes.”

  “Roger that, Emperor One. Jupiter Overwatch is standing by.”

  Angel trudged through the dusty twilight toward the command position. She checked in with Captain Byron, then found a place out of the way. She leaned on her backpack as Petty Officer Daniels came over and joined her on the ground. They leaned back on a large flat rock that gave them a view of the night sky.

  “Strange, isn’t it.”

  “What do you mean?” Angel asked.

  “The stars. They seem so different.”

  “A change of perspective makes everything seem different I guess.”

  “You should eat, Lieutenant. I packed some MREs in your pack. There’s water too.”

  Angel was hungry, and her throat felt as dusty as the desert. She just had so much on her mind that she hadn’t noticed how hungry and thirsty she had become. They opened the packages of Meals Ready to Eat. The military rations hadn’t changed much over the years. They were strange textures in sauces that weren’t really good, but not completely disgusting either.

  “What’d you get?” Daniels asked, poking in the package with a fork.

&n
bsp; “Chicken and rice,” Angel said, trying not to make a face as she forced the food down her throat.

  “That’s not half bad. The Turkey Tetrazzini is the worst. Whoever thought to mix turkey and asparagus in noodle gruel should be shot.”

  Angel laughed. She realized in that moment just how much she loved being a Marine in the CSF. Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined camping out on a colony world, staring at an alien sky, with someone she really enjoyed spending time with.

  “Daniels, how did you end up in the Navy?”

  “They had the best tech school,” Daniels said. “I’ve always loved tech, but we grew up poor. Spent most of my childhood on the streets of Phoenix. The CSF has the best toys, so I signed up. Basic was the first time in my life I got three square meals a day and didn’t have worry about going hungry at night.”

  “Do you like it?” Angel asked.

  “Are you kidding? Even before the ARC program I was working on computer systems that powered interstellar ships through hyperspace. When I joined I was planning on serving one enlistment term, maybe two. All I wanted was enough seed money to get my own place, and maybe use the college tuition assistance to get a degree. But once I got my hands on all this tech, I never looked back. I’m a lifer now.”

  “Even though you’ve been assigned to an experimental platoon on a dangerous mission? If things go wrong and we’re overrun tomorrow, you could die.”

  “Oh, I don’t about that,” Daniels said with a sigh. “I don’t like to run unless there’s someone chasing me. A thousand alien creatures is a lot of motivation though. I like my chances.”

  “You can’t be serious,” Angel said. “Don’t get me wrong, you’re a godsend. I would have gone stark-raving mad if you hadn’t been around to keep me focused on what’s important, but I can’t believe you’re happy to be here tonight.”

  “I don’t know, this place doesn’t seem so bad when it isn’t a thousand degrees and the dust settles.”

  “Seriously,” Angel said.

  “I’m doing what I love and believe it or not, with people I like. Sure, Beemus is a tool sometimes, and Cashman’s team can be worse than teenagers when it comes to taking care of delicate equipment, but I love it. Tech in the Navy can be lonely. Not that I mind, I’m usually just fine by myself, but there’s such a sense of importance out here. Watching you do what you do in the ARC suit. Knowing I’m helping with that. Seeing the Swarm and realizing that I’m playing even a tiny role in saving the colonists from being bug food... that seems pretty great to me.”

  “Well, I’m so glad you’re here. I couldn’t handle it if not for you and the Marines in my squad.”

  “Nance makes you that crazy?”

  “It’s not just Nance, it’s the back-room dealing and constant shuffling for position. Sometimes I feel like I’m surrounded by people who don’t see that we are fighting for something important. And don’t even get me started about how threatened some officers feel when they know you can do something well. It’s a constant competition. I lived with that for years in gymnastics, but once I hit puberty my size made me less of a threat, I guess. I loved the sport. I loved performing and learning new things. I love that about the service too. I just haven’t found many like minded people to share it with.”

  “Well, just hang in there. A wise person once told me that no matter what we hope for in life, there will be parts of it that are shitty. And we can’t have the good stuff without dealing with the shit. If you stay focused on what’s good, you can endure just about anything.”

  “I know you’re right. My nerves are just getting the best of me.”

  They sat in silence for a while after that. Angel tried to sleep, but it was hard. She couldn’t get comfortable, and her nerves were like raw skin being scrapped with sand paper. Her mind kept seeing the Swarm, their long, shovel shaped appendages, their horrific cranial shields, and their completely alien bodies that were part bug, part monster. When she closed her eyes, she saw them coming for her in the darkness. The best she could manage to do, was imagine them being blown apart the way she’d seen them die when Hays raked them with fire from his Winfields. But the carnage of their devastated bodies didn’t give her peace, and she lay on the ground trying to think of anything that might sooth her tortured mind.

  The fact that she might die in a few short hours was all too real. It was unfair, and seemed impossible, but the fear of it settled into her bones like the rumble of some inaudible frequency that made her bones ache. She wished that Staff Sergeant Cashman were there with her. He had a way of making her feel competent, if not safe. Yet she was glad he wouldn’t be there. If they failed to stop the Swarm they would surely be slaughtered, and she wanted him to live. That much she was certain of. If she could have one wish before her short life was snuffed out like cheap candle, it was that Jonathan Cashman would live a long and happy life. The fact that she saw herself in that life was more like wishful thinking. But it was a soothing fantasy, and one she clung to in the cold depths of the desert the night before the most important battle in humanity’s expansion through the stars. She finally drifted off to sleep with Cashman’s face floating through her troubled mind.

  48

  C.S.F. Ramses, close orbit,

  Neo Terra, Tau Ceti system

  Mercer was nervous. The strategy appeared to be working. The Swarm was less than an hour from Nero’s Temple, and the sun was just coming up over the Augustan Desert. In her mind, the different parts of the Marine Battalion had played their parts perfectly. It was all coming together like a beautiful symphony, and she was the conductor. All that remained was to nudge the Swarm just a bit to the north. It was possible that the Swarm might enter Nero’s Temple given their current trajectory, but Mercer didn’t want to take any chances. The ambush site was the natural way through the rugged mountains, but the Swarm might turn south and run like a mouse in front of a wall. If that happened, all the hard work over the last fifteen hours would be lost.

  “Drover Five,” Mercer said in a calm voice. “We need you to give the Swarm a nudge.”

  “Jupiter Overwatch, this is Drover Five. Please repeat. Did you say nudge?”

  “That’s right, Drover Five. Let them see you, but don’t get into position. We want them to see danger to the south, that is all. I repeat, do not engage.”

  “We read you Jupiter. We will come within sight, but not engage the enemy. Stand by.”

  Paula sat back in her command chair. She had spent the entire time since beginning the operation in or around her chair. Sitting for long periods of time wasn’t easy for her. After coordinating several attacks to herd the Swarm in the right direction the day before, they had let the aliens have the night. There were brief moments when Paula left the Bridge to freshen up, but otherwise she monitored the aliens through the night via the tracking medium, which was the only way the satellite and surveillance aircraft could see the creatures after the sun set. Each hour that passed brought them closer to the trap. Ten hours of darkness didn’t deter or even slow the aliens. They didn’t need sleep, apparently. And thus far, had shown no signs that they realized they were being herded into a trap.

  Every eye on the Bridge was glued to the monitors. They watched as the special forces team designated Drover Five approached the aliens. They made of show of running, but appeared to have misjudged the distance. As if she were giving the Swarm their marching orders, the alien horde adjusted course slightly.

  “Trajectory!” Mercer ordered as soon as it was clear the aliens weren’t going to veer further.

  “I’m on it,” the navigation officer said. “The Swarm is on target, Commander. They’re headed straight for the ambush site.”

  Paula felt a flush of excitement. The plan had been a good one, she realized. But having a good strategy and pulling it off in real time wasn’t easy. Any number of things could have gone wrong. She wasn’t sure the plan would result in the decisive victory that everyone was hoping for, but that was out of her hands. She
had done her part, the rest was up to Colonel Goldman and his Marines. And even if they performed flawlessly, the attack still might fail. She wouldn’t let herself get too excited. The alien Swarm was deadly and once the creatures realized they were in a trap, they would fight savagely to escape.

  Paula pressed the comm channels for all the mobile units she had been coordinating. They turned from red to green on her touch screen controls.

  “Drover teams, this is Jupiter Overwatch. The enemy is headed for the trap. ETA forty-seven minutes. Begin moving toward your final positions. I repeat, begin mobilizing toward position Zulu. Remember, you cannot let the enemy see you.”

  “Roger that, Jupiter,” Major Hammonds said from Drover One. “Anyone who jumps the gun will have to deal with me personally.”

  The other units, eight in all, each responded affirmatively. Paula’s nerves were on edge. She felt as if she had been holding her breath for hours, and the muscles in her back were tight. She stood up, walked around her chair twice, then pressed the comms channel for Lieutenant Colonel Goldman.

  “Emperor One, this is Jupiter Overwatch, do you read?”

  “We read you Jupiter. Excellent work getting the Swarm on course,” Goldman said in his typical no nonsense voice. He didn’t sound worried or nervous. She wondered if she sounded as cool and relaxed as he did.

  “The enemy is forty-five minutes from your location,” she said. “Drovers one through eight are moving into position Zulu. Everything is green on this end, call the ball Emperor One.”

  “This is Emperor One, we have the ball.”

  “Good luck,” Paula said.

  “Thanks Jupiter Overwatch. Emperor One out.”

  That was it, she realized. Her responsibility was over, at least in theory. They would continue watching the battle. If the Swarm lost coordination, as it had to an extent in the McDuall Mountains, she would coordinate the mobile units in an effort to mop up the aliens. Paula didn’t really expect that to be an issue. The aliens could retreat from Nero’s Temple, but the mobile units would be in the perfect position to strike at the Swarm if they did. It wouldn’t equal the firepower inside the trap, even if all eight mobile units hit the enemy simultaneously. Still, it was more than had been brought to bare at any point in the war which gave Paula hope that it might succeed.