“You think we’ll be called in?” Cash asked.
“I don’t know. But I have a bad feeling about this mission,” Angel admitted.
“It’s just pre-op jitters,” Hays said. “Everybody feels that way.”
“You think the battle plan is flawed?” Cash asked.
“No,” Angel said. “I can’t explain it. Maybe it’s because we aren’t supposed to fight. I guess I don’t like sitting on the bench.”
“It can be hard to let other people face danger while you’re safe,” Bolton said.
“Especially if you care about the people doing the fighting,” Hays said.
“Is that it?” Cash asked. “Are you worried about Nance?”
“I’m worried about the entire squad,” Angel said. “I’m worried about the whole battalion. I guess I don’t like the idea of a straight-up fight with thousands of aliens on an open plain with no protection. It seems overly ambitious to me.”
“You sure there isn’t something more you’re worried about,” Cash said softly. “Or someone?”
Angel shook her head. She tried to look into his eyes, but they both had their helmets on and he couldn’t see the look on her face. Before she could try to explain more, a bolt of lightning forked down from the clouds in the distance. It was so bright, her view screen dimmed in response. There was a crack that raced across the plain, and even the veteran special forces team ducked a little in response. It was followed by a crashing roll of thunder that sounded like the world was being ripped apart.
“Holy crap,” Hays said.
“That storm is bearing down fast,” Captain King said.
“Damn, I’m beginning to get a bad feeling myself,” Bolton said.
“Technology and bad weather do not mix,” Daniels said. “I’m going on the ship unless you need me for something, Lieutenant.”
“Go ahead,” Angel said. “Perhaps we all should get inside.”
“But leave the hatch open,” Cash said. “I want to see what’s coming.”
The squad moved into the Battle ARC as more lighting strikes punched down like the vengeance of an angry god. Angel, Cash, and Daniels stood at the rear of the drop ship looking out at the foul weather.
“Will Colonel Goldman withdraw because of the storm?” Angel asked.
“Not normally, but this doesn’t look like any kind of storm I’ve ever seen before,” Cash said. “Wind and rain are one thing, but that lightning is really dangerous.”
“Is there anything that might attract lighting in the ARC suits?” Angel asked Daniels.
“I don’t think so, but even being close to a lighting strike can scramble electrical equipment. Their thrusters could go off-line, their helmets might short out, I don’t know.”
“What about the battery coils?” Cash asked.
“They could burn out,” Daniels said. “Maybe even catch fire.”
“Someone should warn the colonel,” Angel said. “You all stay here, I’ll be right back.”
“You’re going out there?” Cash asked.
“Just radio in,” Daniels urged her.
“No, Goldman needs to see what I’m talking about. I won’t be long.”
She hurried down the ramp, just as another crack of lighting lit the sky. It wasn’t a strike, just a massive glowing bolt that ripped overhead and made everyone duck with its rumbling thunder.
There were still people moving everywhere. Some of the transports were spooling up their engines, and in the distance, lightning shot to the ground every few seconds, filling the air with crashing reports. The thin clouds filtered the sunlight, so that it seemed like evening, except when the lightning flashed and over-saturated everything with light. The wind was blowing harder with each passing minute. The few tents that had been thrown up to shield food supplies and designate medical help were being blown across the plain. Angel saw Marines chasing after the tents, and others marching steadfastly into position on the battlefield.
When Angel reached the command post, she found it abandoned. The colonel and his advisors had moved into the back of a transport, just like her squad from the ARC platoon. They were leaning out of the back, pointing and shouting. The communication’s officer was on the radio, but Angel could hear the static interference from the storm as she approached.
“Colonel Goldman!”
“Lieutenant Murphy, shouldn’t you be off sight by now?” Goldman said.
“Sir, we can’t fly in these conditions,” Angel said. “And the ARC suits run the risk of burning out this close to so much electric discharge.”
“What are you saying, Lieutenant? Is you platoon unwilling to fight?”
“No sir! But if our suits short out in the storm we won’t be able to see, and our thrusters won’t work. We won’t be able to move at the speeds we need to.”
“Sir,” Major Hammonds spoke up. “If the ARC squad fails, this entire battle plan could fail. We could loose the battalion.”
“You think I don’t know that?” Goldman snapped. He turned back to Angel. “What are the odds of the suits shorting out?”
“High sir? You can’t depend on them in a storm like this.”
As if to emphasize her point a massive bolt of lighting slammed into the ground outside the transport. The shock wave rocked the entire vehicle and sent sparks shooting from the communications equipment. The comms officer screamed and tore his headset off. Angel’s helmet went dark. She reached up and flipped the latches, pulling the helmet off as thunder boomed so loudly she ducked instinctively.
“This is madness,” Hammond shouted. “We can’t have the men out in a storm like this.”
Goldman looked frustrated, but Angel didn’t notice. She felt a sharp sense of heat inside her left leg. She bent forward, the heat getting worse. She couldn’t help but scream as she ripped the battery coil from her suit. The long, flexible coil sparked and got so hot it glowed.
“You okay, Lieutenant?” Goldman asked.
Angel nodded, rubbing her leg. It felt like she had a minor burn there, and her suit was blackened along her inseam. But she wasn’t injured.
“Alright, we’ll pull out, at least until the storm passes. Sound the retreat and get everyone to cover. Lieutenant, get your ARC suits shut down before they all short out like yours.”
“Yes Colonel,” Angel said, turning from the transport and sprinting back toward the Battle ARC.
The storm was almost on top of them, and she felt like she was in a nightmare. The ARC suit had no power, but the reflexive soles of her feet gave her incredible speed. She sprang forward with each step, and the wind howled at her back. Dashing into the back of the shuttle, she saw that Daniels had already warned her squad to power down their suits. They had their helmets off and their batteries disconnected from their suits.
“Are you okay?” Daniels asked with a worried expression.
“I’ll be fine,” Angel assured her friend. “The colonel is calling off the attack. We need to get the rest of the platoon to shelter.”
“Radio’s out,” Cash said.
“They must be calling the platoons back in person,” Bolton said.
“No one can move as fast as we can,” Angel said. “Go, spread word of the retreat, then get back here. Don’t take unnecessary chances.”
“Roger that,” Vancini said.
“Back in a flash,” Hays said.
The squad sprinted from the shuttle. Angel watched them go and felt a pang of guilt. She should be helping, but she needed to get her suit off and check on the burn.
“Looks like your battery fried,” Daniels said.
“You were right. It burned me before I could get it out.”
“How bad?”
“I think it’s minor, but we better check and see.”
“Alright,” Daniels said, “lets get you out of that suit.”
25
Emergency Alert Station,
Close Orbit, Neo Terra, Tau Ceti System
“The storm is almost on top of the
m,” Petty Officer Grimes said.
He had taken over for the lieutenant who had been on watch through the night. Lieutenant Commander Paula Mercer, senior officer on the EAS was still at her post in the command center. She was frustrated by what she felt was disrespect from Lieutenant Colonel Goldman, and by her own lack of usefulness. There were over a thousand Marines in the path of an electrical storm and she was powerless to do anything to help them.
“We’ll lose visual soon,” Grimes said.
They were watching the scene from an overhead satellite, but the thin, blanket-like clouds were blowing over the Marine battalion, obscuring the visual feed of what was taking place on the ground.
“There’s nothing more we can do,” Mercer said. “We’ve lost all communications.”
“A storm like that could short out all their electrical equipment down there,” Grimes replied. “I wouldn’t dare try to fly.”
Mercer pursed her lips. She was angry and felt helpless. All they could do was watch the storm and wait. A sense of heaviness weighed down on her. Fatigue, like a giant, invisible hand was pressing her back, as if the artificial gravity had suddenly been dialed up. She realized how little rest she’d gotten in the last thirty-six hours. The storms on Neo Terra were often slow moving, and she guessed she had time to return to her quarters for brief nap.
“Monitor the storm,” she ordered. “Continue trying to raise the Marine battalion.”
“The Swarm has stopped, Commander,” said one of the many enlisted personnel monitoring the satellite feeds.
“They aren’t stupid,” Grimes said.
“All we can do is keep tabs. If they start moving again, or if you raise the Marines, wake me. Otherwise, I’ll be in my quarters until 1400 hours, unless you need me.”
“Very good, Commander,” Grimes said.
“You have the watch, Mr. Grimes.”
“Aye, I have the watch,” the petty officer replied.
Leaving her duty station always made Paula Mercer feel as if she were shirking a task. It didn’t matter that she had been called on duty at midnight, or that she had been in the command center for ten hours straight. She stopped by the Ward Room where a steward had prepared her a protein shake. She sipped the cool beverage as she made her way back to her suite of rooms.
She felt old, even though she was only in her late thirties. The lack of sleep and constant tension she’d been under since the Swarm was spotted on Neo Terra had taken a heavy toll. She wanted to go right to bed, but knew she would rest better if she finished the protein shake. Stopping at her desk in the small, private office that was part of her suite, she waved a hand over the activator that woke her computer. The main display, which rose up from the rear of her desk automatically, showed that she had several unread messages.
Ships were constantly traveling between the Tau Ceti system and Sol, each one updating the CSF message network. Mercer still had friends back on earth, and she noticed that several had written to her. But there were two messages that immediately caught her attention. One was an official message from the Command Staff. It was encrypted, which meant that it was official orders, not just a routine, branch-wide memo. The decryption process took a few minutes, and while the computer worked, Paula opened the other message that had grabbed her attention. It was from Lieutenant Commander Sally Orkin, a friend from officer training, who worked in the personnel department on the Command Station in Mars orbit. The message was titled OMg, which Paula knew meant oh my gosh. Orkin was a deeply spiritual person who frowned upon taking God’s name in vain.
Hi Paula, you will never believe it. Admiral Hoskins had a massive heart attack and died in his sleep. His steward found the body after the admiral failed to show up for duty on the Tortuga. Can you imagine? He was only forty-three years old. Tragic, I know, but Commodore Styles has been called in to replace him, and Admiral Styles is replacing her. Rumor has it that Commander Beauregard will take over the armada, which can only be after a promotion I’m sure. His LC was only just promoted a few months ago, which means... you guessed it, the brass is looking for a replacement. I heard your name being mentioned. You so deserve that promotion. If they don’t give it to you, I will resign in protest. Let me know when you hear something.
Sally
Paula forgot all about her protein shake or about being tired. She immediately opened the encrypted message and scanned it.
COLONIAL SPACE FLEET
DEPARTMENT OF THE NAVY
OFFICIAL ORDERS:
PLEASE READ THESE ORDERS IN THEIR ENTIRETY
Lieutenant Commander Paula Mercer, senior officer on the Emergency Alert Station in orbit at Neo Terra, Tau Ceti system, you are hereby ordered to:
A. Discharge your duties on the EAS upon receipt of these orders
B. Report to the C.S.F. Ramses within twenty-four hours of receipt of these orders
Upon the C.S.F. Ramses you will be promoted to commander and given control of the ship.
Commander Beauregard will get you up to speed on the current mission of the Olympus task force. You will carry out those duties to the best of your ability.
In addition to commanding the ship, you will make special note of the ARC platoon stationed on board and make regular reports of their activities, training, morale, and physical condition.
END OF MESSAGE
Paula sat back in her chair, her heart racing. She was being promoted and given command of an interstellar ship. Everything she had worked for was finally coming to fruition. And yet, she couldn’t imagine leaving the EAS when so much was at stake for the colonists on Neo Terra, not to mention the fix the Marine battalion found themselves in at that very moment. Still, orders were orders and she couldn’t argue, even if she wanted to.
With the press of an icon on the touch-sensitive portion of her desk, she summoned Lieutenant Cummings. He would be the senior officer until a new lieutenant commander arrived. She was tasked with discharging her duties, and that was what she would do. Leaving a duty station was always bittersweet, the end of a season in her life, the start of something new. At least she wasn’t leaving the system. Tau Ceti was where the action was, and that was where she wanted to be. The upside, other than her promotion, would be the opportunity to serve with Angela Murphy and the ARC platoon. It wasn’t every day that Paula got to meet heroes, and as long as the battalion survived the storm, Paula would have the distinct privilege of being Angela Murphy’s commanding officer soon enough.
26
Battle Site B, Roebuck District,
Neo Terra, Tau Ceti System
Angel was relieved each time one of the special forces fire team returned to the Battle ARC, usually with one of the Air Force pilots in tow. It wasn’t surprising that Staff Sergeant Cashman was the last to return to the shuttle, or that he had an entire platoon of Marines with him. They had crowded back into the drop ship. Captain King returned to his cockpit. Nance and most of his squad crowded into the small armory compartment. Better to be crowed together than mingle with the enlisted Marines, Angel assumed. She didn’t mind the tight conditions in the shuttle. The Marines with their battle gear took up a considerable amount of space, but outside the ship the storm was relentless.
The wind blew hard enough to rock the drop ship. It howled like a wild animal and sent anything not securely locked down sprawling across the empty fields of grass. Lightning continued to ripple across the sky and occasionally strike the ground, leaving smoking holes in the silica rich soil. Angel had been in battle, with heavy ordnance exploding and guns firing all around her, but nothing compared to the storm. The cracks and booms of the thunder assaulted her ears and made her cringe mentally. For once, she was glad the shuttle didn’t have windows. She didn’t want to see the flashes of light and smoking carnage left by the storm.
First Lieutenant Danny Gershwin was in charge of platoon 1A02 and happy to get his Marines to shelter since they were one of the first groups ferried from the plateau, and the shuttle they had arrived in was off site
.
“What’s it like being in a special platoon?” he asked, referring to a platoon outside the usually company structure that had members from multiple branches rather than just Marines.
“It’s not so bad,” Angel said. “Everyone is focused on the new tech.”
“That ARC suit is really something. I saw your demonstration on the Apollo. That was unreal.”
“Yeah, that wasn’t my best idea. Major Dixon wasn’t pleased.”
“I don’t know why. Everyone I talked to was impressed.”
“Change comes hard to some people. The Major and Colonel Hale, for that matter, weren’t ready for it. They didn’t really see the value we had to offer.”
“Well everyone can see it now,” Gershwin said. “I had a great view of the action back on the beach. Was that you jumping and twirling through the Swarm?”
Angel nodded, suddenly wishing she had her helmet to hide inside. It was much easier to talk to someone when you could see their face, but they couldn’t see yours.
“You mind if I touch it?” he asked.
Angel held out her arm. He ran his fingers lightly across her forearm.
“Feels like nylon loose weave, almost like rope,” he said.
“That’s as good a description as I’ve heard,” Angel nodded. “The interior has a thin lining that’s pressure and temperature sensitive. It’s pretty comfortable once it’s on, but it isn’t easy to get into or out of.”
They talked weapons and tactics, and eventually got around to the Swarm. Everyone had their pet theories and Lieutenant Gershwin was no exception.
“Personally, I think there are more of them than we realize,” he said. “Consider how many planets are barren. We can’t survive on them, but they can. Even those too close to the system star, if the Swarm burrows underground they could escape the excessive heat.”
“I guess that’s true,” Angel said.
“Of course it is. We need to get underground and see what they’re doing down there. For all we know, they could have ten million eggs just waiting to hatch. Even if we wipe out the Swarm on the surface, another could take it’s place when we least expect it.”
Battle ARC: ARC Angel Series Book 2 Page 12
