Battle ARC

by Toby Neighbors

  “I’m only a threat to the Swarm,” Angel said.

  “Hey, I get it. We’re on the same team. The rest of the platoon will come around.”

  Their data pads beeped, indicating a message from the ship’s commander. Angel pulled her pad and glanced at the screen. Her platoon was being ordered to convene on the ship’s bridge.

  “Looks like something’s up,” he said, raising his eyebrows and smiling excitedly. “Let’s get moving, Lieutenant.”

  Angel wanted to give him an excuse, any excuse, just to curb his advances; but she couldn’t shirk an order from the ship’s commander. While she was on the Minerva, Commander Gray was in charge, even though Angel wasn’t a Naval officer. The ship’s commander had ultimate authority over everyone on their vessel, and there was no way Angel could refuse to obey.

  They walked quickly down the narrow corridors. Angel wished the ship was larger. Nance kept moving closer and making lame jokes. She did her best to ignore him, but he was her superior officer and she had to deal with him. The last thing she needed was to insult him. If he was angry with her, he could make her life miserable or even ruin her career. Angel vowed to keep her head down and make as few waves as possible.

  They were the last two officers from the ARC platoon to enter the bridge. Zilla and Raven’s poor attitudes were beginning to spread. The Air Force officers glared at her as she entered with Captain Nance as if their appearance together meant she was engaged in something inappropriate with their CO.

  “Good, we’re all here,” Commander Gray said. “There’s news from Neo Terra. It looks like the Swarm is on the move again. Lieutenant Colonel Nathaniel Goldman will be taking charge of the Marines on the ground, including the ARC platoon. He sent this message.”

  Gray nodded, and a video message came onto the screen at the front of bridge. A Marine officer appeared. He had thick, black hair with flecks of gray. His skin was light brown, and there were deep wrinkles around his eyes.

  “Captain Nance, this is Lieutenant Colonel Goldman, Commander of the Marine Battalion on Neo Terra. We have contact with Swarm and we’re preparing to engage. I want your platoon on the planet ASAP. We are sending coordinates to you now. Make sure your people are ready in their ARC suits. We may not get another chance at this and I want everything by the numbers. That is all. Goldman out.”

  The screen went blank for a second, then a plot of the Tau Ceti system appeared. Angel saw a small V with the word Minerva beside it, moving slowly toward the primary planet, Neo Terra. The other planets were marked. They were mostly gas giants. Around Neo Terra, Angel saw a space station labeled Emergency Alert Station and several other V’s indicating CSF vessels in orbit. Each one had a small label beside it. The largest was the Ramses, which was the ship her platoon was stationed on.

  “We’ll reach orbit in two hours,” Commander Gray said. “A drop ship has been requisitioned for your platoon. It will launch just before we make orbit and proceed directly to the coordinates sent up by Lieutenant Colonel Goldman. Have your people leave their personal effects in the Ready Room and my people will shuttle them over to the Ramses for you. Any questions?”

  “No sir,” Nance said, sounding serious for the first time since Angel had joined him on the Minerva.

  “Excellent. Good luck, Captain.”

  “Thank you, sir. Alright platoon, let’s go have some fun.”

  Angel was the first out of the bridge. She was aghast at Nance’s cavalier attitude. Their suits weren’t ready, which meant that Angel would face the Swarm. She had no idea if Cashman or his fire team would be on the ground. Her heart raced in her chest, and she felt a fine sheen of sweat break out across her body. Going back into combat made all the other concerns she’d had on the flight seem silly. In her mind’s eye she could see the massive horde of aliens again. In the mountains she had seen them coming by the thousands. The deadly attacks by Cashman’s special forces fighters hadn’t deterred them in the least. And Angel feared that even the entire Marine battalion wouldn’t stop the Swarm. She was confident in her abilities, but without knowing the details of what was happening on the planet, she felt weak and afraid.

  “Alright, gather your gear and meet in the Ready Room,” Nance said. “We’ve only got one technician and we’ll have to take turns letting her help us into the ARC suits. Two hours isn’t much time people. Let’s shag it!”

  Angel had never heard the phrase shag it before, but she knew she needed to hurry — even though everything inside her was telling her she needed to slow down, change course, and run away from the danger, not toward it. Still, despite her survival instincts; she was a Marine, and she wouldn’t let fear make her decisions for her. It was time to show the Air Force officers what the ARC suits could really do, and hopefully the Swarm as well. The more she thought of it, the more she realized there was no where else she’d rather be.

  14

  Emergency Alert Station,

  Close Orbit, Neo Terra, Tau Ceti System

  “They aren’t hiding anymore,” Petty Officer Gaines said.

  “No,” Lieutenant Commander Paula Mercer replied. “They must be at full strength.”

  “They’re headed for New Chicago, on the southern side of Lake Fulsom,” Gaines said. “That’s a major population center.”

  “They’ve been alerted to the danger,” Mercer said. “They’re beginning to evacuate the city and the Marine battalion is moving to intercept. Our job is to keep tabs on the Swarm.”

  “It’s a bit frightening that they aren’t hiding,” said Seaman Lewis, a petite woman with a high pitched voice.

  “Why would they change their tactics?” Gaines asked.

  “Perhaps they’re trying to intimidate us,” said Midshipman Evans, the comms officer on duty at the moment.

  “Or they aren’t afraid of us,” Lewis said.

  “That’s a cheery thought,” Gaines replied.

  “Let’s keep the speculation to a minimum, please,” Mercer said.

  Inwardly she was entertaining the same thoughts and fears as the other officers. In some ways it was frustrating to be on an observation station with no way to affect the outcome of the fight that was surely coming. In other ways, she felt relieved that they weren’t in immediate danger; but that thought also made her feel guilty. She wasn’t a coward, and didn’t like thinking that others would fight in her place.

  “What’s their speed?” Mercer asked.

  “Consistent at fourteen knots, Commander,” Gaines said. “They haven’t varied course or changed speed.”

  “Send an update to Lieutenant Colonel Goldman and CC the other ship commanders in orbit,” Mercer commanded.

  “The Minerva is on approach,” Lewis said, in an almost comical voice that contrasted with the serious news she was relaying. “Vector two-one-two, Commander. They’ll be in orbit in one hour.”

  “Very good,” Mercer said.

  She checked the manifest and saw with a touch of relief, that Second Lieutenant Angela Murphy was on board the approaching ship. Mercer had seen the footage of the pass in the McDuall Mountains after the ARC platoon had fought the Swarm. It was the only time she had seen a battlefield strewn with dead aliens and it had given her hope that they might overcome the dreaded Swarm.

  Looking back at the video imagery from the weather satellite on the big screen above the men and women monitoring the various information-gathering satellites that orbited Neo Terra, she saw the swarm as a gray blob. The weather satellite was tasked with watching a broad area to track storms across vast continents. Other satellites that could focus long angle lens down to the surface of the planet were being rerouted so they could look down at the Swarm.

  In addition to monitoring the numerous weather satellites over Neo Terra, tracking weather systems, and observing planetary conditions, the Emergency Alert Station was also acting as a flight tower for the armada of CSF warships that had entered the system. Most were in orbit around the planet. After offloading their passengers, the ships h
ad stayed in system. Most carried high-yield kinetic warheads, but Mercer didn’t have confidence that bombardment would stop the Swarm. Nuclear weapons were the best bet; but they would be highly destructive, leaving areas of radioactive wasteland for decades. No one wanted to spoil the pristine colony worlds with nukes, which were outlawed anyway. But those laws might change if word about the alien Swarm were to get out.

  Mercer considered herself to be a calm, rational person. Still, the news that Swarm activity had been found on Alpha Prime and Epsilon One made her nervous. They had no idea how the aliens traveled through space, or why they seemed to be following the human chain of colonies back toward Earth. The thought of the unstoppable hordes springing up on Earth terrified her.

  Over the span of her career in the CSF, Mercer had never met a genuine hero. There were plenty of biographies of great strategists and commanders from humanity’s past, and Mercer had often wondered if she would recognize a great leader in the middle of historic events. In her mind, the Swarm and the soldiers of the ARC program qualified. Second Lieutenant Angela Murphy had lead the top secret platoon to victory, using not just the incredible new technology, but sound strategy and tactics.

  “How long until the Swarm reaches New Chicago?” Mercer asked.

  “Six hours,” Grimes replied. “Maybe less if they speed up.”

  “Not enough to evacuate everyone,” Seaman Lewis said.

  “The colonists should be on alert,” Grimes said. “I’d have a go-bag with me at all times.”

  “To go where?” Lewis asked. “Most of the colony cities are hundreds of kilometers apart.”

  “As long as they get out of the city, they should be safe,” Grimes said.

  “The Swarm will congregate on the city if they get past the Marines on the ground,” Mercer said. “The real threat isn’t getting away safely; it’s the reality of having absolutely nothing to come back to. Every resource will be consumed, including the buildings and city streets.”

  “It’s a nightmare,” Lewis said.

  “Don’t worry, the calvary is on the way,” Grimes replied.

  “Let’s just hope they can win the battle this time,” Mercer said. “Let’s get every bird we’ve got over this district. I want eyes on that battle, however it turns out. We can’t join the fight on the ground, but every byte of data we record will help us win the next one.”

  “Roger that, Commander,” Grimes said.

  Lewis didn’t respond, and Mercer feared that the young woman recognized just how much was riding on the events down on the planet. It wasn’t just the fight for one city, it was the future of humanity’s expansion across the galaxy; perhaps even the survival of the human race itself. Mercer sighed, then settled back in her chair. The next few hours would be hectic, and she wasn’t going anywhere.

  15

  C.S.F Minerva,

  On Approach to Neo Terra, Tau Ceti System

  Angel was the first platoon member to get suited up. Daniels had a system, and Angel understood it. They worked well together. Angel stayed just outside the Ready Room as each member of the ARC platoon was suited up. She wasn’t sure if it was tragic or lucky that they didn’t know anything about the helmet that controlled their suits. They leaned against the wall, but Thriller was the first to realize the reflexive ability of the ARC suit’s soles and palms. He was soon dancing. Captain Nance found his excitement funny, especially when the pilot crashed hard into a bulkhead and fell flat on his face.

  “What a dip shit,” Zilla said.

  “What do the helmets do?” Raven asked, slipping his on.

  Angel looked at Captain Nance, who seemed oblivious. He was too busy whispering in the ear of Princess, who seemed captivated by her superior’s attention.

  “The helmets control the thrusters and defense system,” Angel said.

  “How?” Fozzy asked, pulling her own helmet on.

  “It’s a facial control system,” Angel went on. “Blink each eye, pooch your lips, stick out your tongue. Once the system identifies the movement, you’ll be able to scroll the through the system. I wouldn’t activate your thrusters yet. They need to be adjusted on your suit and via the control unit. They might be much too strong for even a small burst inside the ship.”

  “This is asinine,” Zilla said, her helmet transmitting her voice perfectly. Angel heard the contempt clearly. “Who designed this clown suit?”

  Angel didn’t bother to answer. She knew how silly it felt to work the facial controls. The saving grace to the system was that the enclosed helmet hid the movements. No one could see the pilots learning to navigate their way through the computer system.

  Captain Nance was the last person to get suited up. When he stepped out of the Ready Room, he looked like like he belonged on a recruitment graphic for the CSF. His V shaped torso was on full display in the skintight suit. He carried the helmet under one arm and his bright blue eyes were full of confidence as he walked quickly toward the hanger. The rest of the Air Force officers followed quickly after him, most with their helmets on. Angel held back, waiting for petty officer Daniels, who came out of the Ready Room with a large pack. It looked like a backpack only it was slung over her chest and stomach.

  “What have you got there?” Angel asked, as they headed toward the hangar bay together.

  “A new toy I picked while we were in Mars Orbit,” Daniels said. “Lieutenant Commander Sozu sent it over with the ARC suits for the flyboys... and flygirls.”

  “What for?”

  “It’s a mobile monitoring and control unit. It lets me track each ARC suit; from the power system to the pilot’s vitals.”

  “Can you adjust the thrust and control features?” Angel asked.

  “One at a time. It would be better to do it in a controlled space, but it is possible,” Daniels confessed. “I’d rather not do it while they’re in action.”

  “We may not have a choice.”

  “The brass just doesn’t get it. We’re not talking about dialing in a high powered scope on a sniper’s rifle. If the thruster calibration is off, even by a few degrees, we could injure or maybe even kill the pilots. I won’t feel comfortable taking them off the lowest power settings until we can carefully adjust the settings for each individual pilot.”

  “The lowest setting may not be enough if we have to fight the Swarm,” Angel said.

  “If those pilots get sent into action, there’s no way they’ll survive,” Daniels replied. “If you think Nance is going to insist his Air brats do anything but observe from a distance, you have to talk him out of it.”

  “I thought you didn’t really care for Trigger,” Angel said, barely keeping a straight face as she used Nance’s callsign.

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass about that self-important blowhard, but his suit is worth a fortune. Each one takes nearly a week to fabricate and there’s no way we can replace them soon enough.”

  “So, you’ll throw me to the wolves?”

  “I’d put you up against anyone as long as you’re in the ARC suit, Lieutenant. I’ve seen some real tough guys in the CSF, some powerful tech too. But nothing comes close to what you can do in the suit.”

  “Just keep it running steady, and we’ll make sure the Swarm feel the same way.”

  In the hanger, the ARC platoon were taken onto a drop ship with dark red stripes on the hull and sleek guns mounted on the wings. It was larger than Angel expected, with a dozen padded jump seats on either side of the cargo section, an armory and emergency supply section behind the cockpit, and room for cargo in the center of the hold between the passenger seats. Navy seamen loaded the ARC suit rechargers, a large mobile repair station, and what looked to Angel like a weapons locker.

  Angel donned her helmet and heard Commander Gray giving orders over the command frequency of the ship.

  “Orbit in twelve minutes,” the ship’s commander said in a steady voice. “Begin drop ship launch procedure. Captain King, I want your ship free and clear in ten minutes.”

&nbs
p; “Roger that,” the pilot said.

  “Willy King?” Nance said. “Are you flying this bird?”

  “Bet your ass, Nancy boy,” came a chipper reply in a strong southern U.S. accent. “The queen ordered up the best and here I am, making sure the new toys go straight to the front of the line.”

  “How did I not know you were on the Minerva?” Nance replied.

  “Probably because you were too busy chasing tail to spend any time with real pilots. They’re all too smart to fall for your bullshit.”

  “We have to get a drink,” Nance said. “Make sure you don’t kill us on the way down.”

  “Roger that, Captain Nancy Drew. Sit down, buckle in, and prepare to fly the unfriendly skies. I’ll have you in the dirt in no time.”

  Angel didn’t know whether the friendly banter between their drop pilot and Nance was a good thing or not. The new drop ship was impressive, and she felt confident they would get down to the planet quickly enough. She just hoped that once they were there Nance would listen to her.

  The drop ship, call sign Battle ARC, was picked up by a clamp, moved into a huge air lock, then to the exterior of the Minerva. It clung to the interstellar vessel like a barnacle on the belly of whale, then ejected just before the larger ship locked into orbit around Neo Terra.

  Angel listened to the communication between the pilot and Orbital Command which was currently set up on the Ramses. Angel didn’t understand it all, but she could tell that conditions were good in the planet’s atmosphere and that the drop ship was headed for an insertion window to get them down in the right place. The flight took forty-five minutes, most of it shaking and jumping while friction roared outside the fuselage of the ship that seemed very thin to Angel.

  Eventually the ride smoothed and the drop ship settled gently. Angel followed the others out of the ship and found herself on a plateau. They were on a cliff, high above a narrow strip of land that led to a lake so big Angel couldn’t see the far shore. She knew that most of the surface water on Neo Terra to be in the form of rivers and lakes. There were no oceans on the planet, and most of the water was under ground. The large body of water glistened and sparkled in the sunlight. They were several hundred yards away from a hastily prepared camp, which was also on the plateau. Nance summoned the platoon and they set out to find the person in charge.