ARC Angel (ARC Angel Series Book 1)

by Toby Neighbors

  “On a space ship? Are you insane, lieutenant?” Sozu was close to shouting. Her face was red and a vein had appeared on her normally smooth forehead. “There’s no room to train in a space ship. Not to mention the gravity issues. This isn’t right.”

  “I’m sorry, ma’am. We’re just following orders,” Cash assured her.

  “This isn’t over,” she stammered. “I’ll have Jakobson’s head for this!”

  Cash didn’t know who Jakobson was, and was more than a little glad that he didn’t. Sometimes it was just easier to follow orders and let someone else make the decisions. It was certainly better than dealing with irate researchers.

  “You’ve been called up to the Apollo?” Cash asked Lieutenant Murphy.

  “Yes,” she replied. “There’s a shuttle leaving in just over an hour.”

  “We’re on it too. I’ll see you there.”

  Cash wasn’t sure how he felt about the young lieutenant. He had served with rookie officers before, but that had been back before he’d been accepted into the special forces. Those officers had overseen an entire platoon, which was usually either drilling on a base somewhere, or serving on a CSF ship, but other than crowd control during a big event or making a show of force for a petty regional dispute on a colony world, those young officers never saw any action. In fact, most of the marines in the CSF didn’t do much more than train. The swarm was the first space-faring species humanity had encountered. And from what Cash had heard, the eggheads didn’t even know how the swarm moved from planet to planet.

  He walked back to his barracks. Getting out of the ARC suit was difficult without help, so he left it on, stowed everything else in his ruck sack and double checked the room he’d been assigned. There wasn’t much to do in the time he had left, but he knew his squad would be looking to him for answers. He wasn’t ready to answer questions yet, so he sat on his bunk. He knew the CSF was putting together a major task force, which could only mean one thing — they were going to war. He hadn’t heard any new rumors of battles or cities lost, but information about the swarm had been kept very quiet. There were stories that circulated in the service, but no one was dumb enough to talk openly about the threat. Earth was still a volatile place, with nearly twenty billion people and tightly controlled resources. A panic over the swarm would mean a lot of people getting killed and untold destruction. No one wanted to be the cause of that.

  Still, it was pretty safe to say that if the brass was putting together a task force, there had to be problems on one of the colony worlds. It wasn’t hard to imagine that the swarming aliens were the cause of the problem, and the fact that Cash’s team had been called up only gave more validity to that theory. His team in their new ARC suits wouldn’t be needed to deal with a human problem. So that meant going up against the swarm, and his team wasn’t even close to ready. He was performing better than his squadmates, but they were all dealing with vertigo when they flipped and moved suddenly from side to side. The smart helmets were amazing, but his body knew the difference between his own vision and the projected image on the HUD.

  In some ways it was good to have the lieutenant with them. She knew her stuff and could handle the ARC suit better than any of his tough guys, but if she was going to be in charge, Cash had his reservations. She had been through an abbreviated basic training, and she hadn’t been recruited for her leadership potential or tactical skills. She was a gymnast, barely out of high school. Was she really supposed to lead a special forces unit? He couldn’t imagine why anyone would give the order for her to join the Apollo unless it was to lead his team, yet he also couldn’t understand why anyone would place that kind of responsibility on her shoulders. She wasn’t ready, he thought. Which meant he would have to manage her. Perhaps he could help her, but he feared she might see him as a threat to her rank. Some officers didn’t want to take any advice from their NCOs, no matter how inexperienced the officers were, or how seasoned their NCOs happened to be.

  It all came down to trust. He would have to win her confidence and help her navigate the service. She was his superior officer, but still a junior among the older, more seasoned officers. He made up his mind to stay positive and encourage his guys that Murphy going with them was a good thing. They all respected her abilities, and if they couldn’t do what she did, they could at least cover her six — on the battlefield and in the treacherous world of officer politics.

  23

  Camp Oppenheimer, CSF Research & Development Center, 80 miles east of Stillwater, Nevada, U.S.A.

  “I’m sending six of my techs with you,” Sozu said, as soon as Staff Sergeant Cashman was out of earshot. “Jakobson won’t budge even though he knows he’s wrong, but each of you needs a tech. My people aren’t soldiers, but they know the ARC systems. You’ll need them.”

  “Actually, I was ordered to requisition whatever we need to ensure the ARC suits are successful in the field,” Angel said. “Just send whoever you think and I’ll forward their names to Colonel Jakobson.”

  Sozu nodded, and Angel thought she detected a tear in the researcher’s eye. She looked miserable, and Angel understood what it was like to feel cheated, even betrayed. Her life among the highly competitive gymnasts had been guarded against just that sort of thing. She had learned early on not to get too close to a teammate. They could leave quickly, and with no warning, if they saw an opportunity. They would throw their teammates under the bus if it meant getting a spot on a better team, or beating out a rival.

  “Will we have the charging capacity on the space ship to ensure the ARC suits are fully powered and ready if we’re needed?” Angel asked.

  “I’m sure I’ll have orders to send the charging stations along,” Sozu said. “Just remember that the ARC suits are prototypes. There is still so much research to do. Take care of them, Lieutenant. They are irreplaceable.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Angel said.

  Sozu turned back toward the doors to the control room while Angel moved toward the exit. Petty Officer Daniels wasn’t around, so Angel would have to wear her ARC suit to the shuttle. She hurried back to her berth in barracks H wondering what life on board a space ship would be like. All her life Angel had heard stories about the colonies, but had given very little thought to what life might be like on board a space ship. She had studied the concepts of hyperspace travel as part of her high school science curriculum but she didn’t pretend to understand it.

  After replacing everything carefully in her rucksack, she went downstairs and found a hover cart waiting to take her to the shuttle. Being an officer had its privileges, she thought. When she got to the hangar where the shuttle was being prepped to take her up into space, she couldn’t help but feel a thrill at the very idea of it. Going into outer space seemed like a major accomplishment, despite the fact that men and women had been leaving the earth for over a century.

  Staff Sergeant Cashman was already in the hangar, along with his squad of marines. They each carried two rucksacks, one with their personal belongings and clothes and the other with their custom gear and weapons. They stood patiently waiting while Lieutenant Commander Sozu’s lab techs carefully loaded the ARC chargers. They were small, locker-sized contraptions which Angel had yet to learn about. Petty Officer Rhonda Daniels was helping the techs. Angel was happy that she had a personal technician to help her maintain the ARC suit. Rhonda was friendly and cheerful; she was a little holder than Angel but they were becoming friends. It made sense that Rhonda would be going, and if things had progressed as Sozu had seen fit, the researcher would have certainly recruited someone to serve each of the marines in Cashman’s squad in the same capacity. Angel hoped the lab techs would be sufficient.

  Once all the equipment was loaded, including a case of weapons and ammunition that Angel didn’t recognize, they were taken on board. She sat in a molded plastic seat and was strapped in place with a padded bar and five-point harness. While the marines and lab techs chatted among themselves, Angel dictated a message that she sent to Colonel Jakob
son.

  “You look busy,” Cash said, settling in beside her after he’d checked the cargo.

  “What makes you say that?” Angel asked.

  “You’re still wearing your helmet,” he said.

  “Guilty,” she replied. “Going over personnel reports.”

  “They’re putting you in charge of a special platoon aren’t they,” he said.

  “It’s called a Combined Service Unit. We’ll be under Major Dixon’s command.”

  “The major is a good operator,” Cash said. “He’s special forces.”

  “Well, at least you’ll have some familiarity,” she said, feeling suddenly self conscious again. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

  “What were you expecting?” he asked.

  “I honestly don’t know, but I thought the testing phase on the ARC suits would last longer.”

  “That’s service life, either too short or too long, and never what you expect. I’m not an officer, but I’ve been around. I’m guessing you’ll be our CO on this tour?”

  Angel nodded, her anxiety growing. She didn’t feel very commanding and wasn’t sure she was up for whatever task would be required of her.

  “Leave the day-to-day work of the platoon to me,” Cashman said. “I’m not vying for power, but as a staff sergeant that’s my job. Normally, I’m the commanding lieutenant’s right hand, but you’ll have a mixed platoon. Special forces groups often are, and hopefully you’ll have a chief petty officer to deal with the naval personnel. Grunts often respond to superiors in their own branch of service best.”

  “That makes sense,” Angel said.

  “Have you been out of atmo before?”

  “No,” she replied, hoping her nerves didn’t show too much.

  “Well, you’re in for a treat. The shuttles don’t have artificial gravity, so that will be a fun experience. Just don’t toss your cookies inside your helmet.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Angel said.

  “You can send me the personnel files and once we get on board the Apollo I’ll see that the equipment is stowed away properly. Major Dixon will give you mission specifics and then we can formulate a plan. Just keep in mind that I’m here to help.”

  “Thank you, Staff Sergeant,” Angel said. “That’s reassuring.”

  Angel felt better, but she also felt a sliver of suspicion. She liked Cash, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy. She didn’t really know him outside of the ARC tests they had been running together. She could tell that he was a good NCO, but she didn’t know if he was a good man. During the last two weeks while they were testing the ARC suits she had kept her personal feelings to herself, insulating against the attraction she felt building for the staff sergeant. She had never worked so closely with a man before, other than her coaches, and while she heard rumors of girls having relationships with their coaches, Angel had never even been tempted. Cash was altogether different. He was a strong, confident, handsome man, but that didn’t mean Angel could trust him.

  The shuttle took off at speed, pressing them back into their seats. Angel didn’t think the molded plastic seats were very comfortable, but her ARC suit took the brunt of the gravitational forces. It took Angel nearly half an hour to find a way to transfer the personnel reports. Besides Cashman’s fire team, and the six ARC suit technicians, she would have Petty Officer Daniels, two apprentice seamen, three senior airmen, and a chief warrant officer in her special platoon.

  “Why so many support personnel?” Angel asked Cashman.

  “Most special operations teams have support. I’m guessing the apprentice seamen are logistics. They’ll be responsible for getting our squad whatever we might need on the Apollo. The airmen are technicians, and my guess is they’ll stick with us to replace the lab geeks Commander Sozu pushed on us. They’ll learn to service the ARC suits, but won’t be bothered sending performance reports.”

  It was all starting to make sense to Angel. Her job would be to define everyone’s role as it pertained to the mission. That was what she learned in officer training, but the scary part was being expected to understand what talents and skills the people under her brought to the table when they were from different branches of service and she was so new at her job.

  The shuttle made the transition out of atmosphere and into orbit without any problems. Angel couldn’t believe how strange being in zero gravity felt. It was reminiscent of being underwater, but with absolutely no outside force bearing on her body. There was a sense of freedom, but also a sliver of panic. She felt untethered, and out of control. When she was on the obstacle course she loved the way her ARC suit gave her the freedom to break free from gravity’s hold on her, but without any gravitational pull she felt lost.

  The shuttle docked with a fast mover transport. The fire team were all wearing their ARC suits and carrying their personal belongings. The only gear that had to be moved were the charging stations. In zero gravity, even large bulky items could be moved relatively easily. They weren’t the only people on the fast mover, which was more luxurious than the shuttle, with bathrooms and reclining seats. Angel and the special forces fire team were stared at by the other passengers. Almost all of the people on board the rocket-propelled transport were CSF, but none had seen an ARC suit with its charcoal-colored impact-resistant fabric, small thrusters, and enclosed smart helmets. The special forces team had removed their helmets, but Angel still wore hers. There were no rank insignia on the suits, and no one knew that she was an officer, but that changed as soon as the transport was finished loading passengers.

  The pilot announced that artificial gravity would be initiated and suddenly Angel felt weight again. It was a strange sensation that took a moment to adjust to. The transport would sling shot around the moon and set out for Mars. The trip would take just under twenty-four hours, so Angel went to the restroom to change out of the ARC suit. Petty Officer Rhonda Daniels came along to help and once Angel was out of the powerful mechanized combat suit she took it back to the storage locker, while Angel dressed in her marine uniform complete with name tag and a second lieutenant silver bar on each corner of her collar.

  By the time she got back to her seat, all five of Cashman’s team members were asleep. They were still in their ARC suits, with the smart helmets stowed safely in the storage bin over their seats.

  “I’ve already got Daniels and the other techs putting together a list of tools they’ll need to service the ARC suits,” Cashman said. “We can forward that on and the apprentice seamen can requisition whatever we need.”

  “Excellent, thank you,” Angel said, feeling a little self-conscious that she hadn’t thought of it.

  “No problem. I know you don’t have a flex pad yet. I’m sure they’ll issue you one once we reach the Apollo. Then you’ll be able to send orders to our group.”

  Angel couldn’t help but be afraid. Cashman was being incredibly helpful, but did he trust her to lead? She didn’t know, in fact she didn’t know if she was ready to be in charge of a special platoon. All she knew for certain was that things seemed to be going too fast. Unlike the gymnastics world, people assumed she was ready. They didn’t coddle her, or even give her much direction. But Angel wasn’t a shrinking violet. As a gymnast she had been very ambitious. The only thing holding her back at the moment was the fact that she wasn’t sure what she wanted. Being a second lieutenant in the CSF had perks. She was in outer space, and would soon be leaving the solar system. That alone was mind boggling to her. She was earning a good salary, and if she decided to stay in the service she could retire with benefits before she was fifty, and pursue anything she wanted. On the other hand, she wasn’t sure what life in the service was really like. She had no idea what type of career it would be or if it was really something she wanted to do.

  Staff Sergeant Cashman was soon asleep, along with most of the other passengers on the transport. Angel knew that she would have to get some rest soon, but her mind was too restless for sleep. She hadn’t even written to her parents. All they k
new was that she had joined CSF, but they didn’t really know what she was doing or where she was. Most of her friends were either still in gymnastics full time, or had already moved on to other pursuits. There was no one to talk with about her future, or how she felt about it all. Not that she could talk candidly with anyone, since most of her experience in the CSF was working on a classified program.

  There were no windows in the transport, and the artificial gravity made it feel as if she were merely sitting in a long room on Earth instead of shooting through space at over two million kilometers an hour. She felt as if she were about to be thrown to the wolves and she tried her best to convince herself that she was ready, but it felt as if something were wrong, like she was forgetting something.

  The unease stayed with her even as she tried to sleep. She reclined in the comfortable seat she’d taken next to Staff Sergeant Cashman. He seemed at peace, but she felt conflicted. Her training had prepared her to face whatever problems she encountered head on, and there was nothing left for her to do but keep moving forward.

  24

  Task Force Olympus,

  Mars Orbit, Sol System

  The trip from Earth had been difficult for Angel. She wanted to reach the Apollo and find out exactly what she’d be doing, but the hours seemed to drag on and on. When the fast mover had finally reached the task force, it had taken another hour to maneuver into position to dock with the flagship Apollo. Angel spent her time learning as much as she could about the various ships in the group.

  The largest ship was the Apollo, a fleet carrier with two entire wings of Air Force ships and drones. There was also room on the huge spacecraft for a full battalion of CSF Marines. Traveling with the task force were also three destroyer class ships, the Leonidas, the Bellona, and the Minerva. Each of those ships carried two platoons of marines, a flight of single-pilot fighters, and a host of weapons for ship-to-ship combat. The final ship in the group was the Taft, a huge freighter class ship that not only had rations and resupplies for all four of the other ships in the task force, but also a variety of vehicles for the marines as well as tugs for loading and unloading the massive vessel.