“I call that job security,” Angel said, trying to keep things light.
“If we survive,” Gershwin grumbled. “How do you suppose they’re moving from system to system?”
“I don’t know,” Angel said honestly.
“That’s the problem. No one knows. How can we ever relax when we really know nothing about the enemy.”
“We’re learning,” Angel said. “Our scientists are studying the bodies of the fallen drones.”
“Yeah, but they’re clones, right? They don’t even have minds of their own. How much can we really learn from their most disposable resource.”
“Hopefully we’ll discover how they communicate,” Angel said.
“I’ll settle for total extinction,” the Marine lieutenant said.
Cashman made his way over and joined the conversation.
“That’s one hell of a storm,” Cash said.
“I don’t see how the colonists handle it,” Angel said.
“They have storm shelters and back up power generators,” Lieutenant Gershwin said. “We spent t a little time in Utopia City a year or so back. Interesting place, but the colonists take the crazy weather in stride.”
“Adaption is the key to survival,” Cash said. “Doesn’t matter where you live or what species you are.”
“The Swarm is adapting,” Angel said. “I just hope they don’t adapt to our new tactics too fast.”
“If we don’t strike a decisive blow soon, I don’t hold out much hope,” Gershwin said. “Between the weather and the Swarm, maybe we should just give up on this place.”
“That will never happen,” Cash said. “There’s too much investment here, too much at stake.”
“We’ll find a way to beat them,” Angel said, hoping she could live up to her own promise.
For nearly two hours the storm raged around them. The thunder was constant, a crashing assault on their ears and minds. When the crashing booms began to fade, Angel felt a sense of relief. The wind died down and finally everyone left the drop ship and other shuttles to assess the damage.
“New batteries,” Nicole Daniels said, “at the very least. I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of the transports need new wiring.”
“What about my suit?” Angel asked.
“I’ll need some time,” Daniels replied. “I want to check the integrity around the inseam. I don’t think the battery damaged it, but I won’t feel good until I’ve checked it. We’ll need to replace the battery coil. It’s completely fried.”
“Can we send for one?”
“I rather go up,” the technician said. “We need to run diagnostics on all the suits. Just because your’s is the only one with a fried battery doesn’t mean the electronics did get scrambled in the storm.”
“I’ll talk to Nance.”
27
Battle Site B, Roebuck District,
Neo Terra, Tau Ceti System
It seemed as if the Marine battalion was shell-shocked. Angel saw people wandering around looking bewildered. Some were inspecting the blackened holes in the ground where smoke still rose in slow eddies that drifted across the fields. It reminded Angel of ancient battles when firearms spewed great clouds of smoke that hung in the air long after the fighting was finished. Others were inspecting the transports themselves. The larger troop carriers had all been struck by lightning. Their heat-resistant tile fuselages had taken the powerful shock, but there were scorch marks snaking across the neat military paint jobs. Angel knew the ships endured super heat during a planetary entry, but the wild electrical storm had been powerful enough to cause damage to the tough drop ships.
There were too few mechanics to work on every ship. The pilots joined in, and a some volunteers too, but Angel knew it would be a while before the ships were ready to fly again. Captain Nance went with Angel to speak to Lieutenant Colonel Goldman. His normally flirtatious nature was replaced with shock. He looked tired, almost despondent, as they walked across the gathering of large ships. They found the colonel outside the big troop carrier. His communications officer was busy trying to get the radio back in working order.
“Well, what a mess,” he grumbled as Angel and Nance approach. “I suppose your platoon took damage from the storm like everyone else?”
“No one was injured, sir,” Nance said.
“But our suits need full diagnostic work-ups.”
“Well get on it. We’ve got a fight to finish. The Swarm can’t be too far away,” he said.
“There’s a problem with that, sir,” Angel said, wishing Nance would speak up. He was the platoon leader, it was really his responsibility to communicate problems with the ARC suits to the colonel, but once again he was letting Angel be the squeaky wheel. “We only have one technician down here and she doesn’t have the equipment she needs.”
“What are you saying, Lieutenant?”
“We need to go back to the Ramses.”
“And just how to you propose you do that when we don’t have working transports?” Goldman demanded. “Every Marine here is pulling double duty. You do realize that Swarm could be on top of us at any second. We’ve lost all communications with the birds in orbit. Now you want us to pool our meager resources so that your platoon can run home with your tail between your legs.”
“That’s not what I’m asking, sir,” Angel said.
“The hell it isn’t. I can’t justify anything you’re asking. Not when we’re at our most vulnerable. I have no doubt your platoon is vital to the war effort. But I can’t risk all our lives just to coddle you few.”
Angel looked at Nance, furious that he wasn’t saying anything. His eyes looked glassy as he stared off into the distance. It was like he wasn’t even hearing the colonel.
“I’m sorry sir,” Angel said. “We’ll do whatever is needed, but there’s no guarantee our ARC suits won’t malfunction.”
“They’re suits,” Goldman said. “Fancy armor or something. How can they malfunction?”
“Sir, the suits are powered with special battery coils and controlled with our helmets. If the thrusters fail we could fall, or worse be propelled too strongly and crash. Our platoon won’t be of any use to you if the suits don’t work properly.”
“Everyone man and woman in this battalion is risking their lives, Lieutenant. I don’t think you’re any more valuable than the next person.”
“I agree sir, I’m not more valuable. But the ARC suits are custom-fit to each pilot at a cost of hundreds of millions of dollars. An injury to one of us, even something as minor as a sprained ankle, could sideline that pilot and make a serious dent in the effectiveness of our platoon.”
“I don’t give a damn—“
Fortunately, the communications officer got the the radio working at that very moment and interrupted the colonel’s angry tirade.
“Sir! We have a signal from the EAS.”
“It’s about damn time. Where is the Swarm relative to our location?”
“They’ve lost the swarm, sir.”
“What? Did they go to ground?”
“There’s no telling, sir,” the comms officer said. “They could have gone underground, or they could be hiding in the edge of the storm. The electrical interference is making it impossible to track the aliens.”
“I thought the Air Force had some kind of tracking technology on the Swarm?”
The comms officer asked a question, waited for a reply, then looked up at the colonel.
“It isn’t working.”
“Beautiful, well, the only good news is it appears we aren’t in eminent danger, although, who really knows. Major Hammond!”
The big-bodied major appeared beside the colonel. Angel was surprised at how quietly he moved. He was big, but she realized it wasn’t all fat, nor was he clumsy the way she had thought he would be.
“Sir?”
“I want patrols focused in the direction of the storm.”
“The storm, sir?” Hammond asked.
“The geeks on the EAS believe t
he Swarm is hiding in the fringe of the storm. I do not want to be caught unprepared, Major. Get me eyes on the bugs, and keep tabs on their movements.”
“Yes, Colonel, right away.”
Goldman turned back to Captain Nance.
“Captain, have your platoon help with repairs to your drop ship. When it’s flight worthy, you have my permission to return to the Ramses, but I want you ready for combat ASAP. This fight isn’t over, and when we get tabs on the Swarm again your platoon will lead the attack. Am I clear?”
“Crystal clear, Colonel,” Nance said in a very laid-back manner.
He saluted and turned on his heel, making the military gesture seem like a dance move. Angel started to follow, but the colonel caught her arm.
“A moment, Lieutenant Murphy?”
“Yes, of course, Colonel.”
Goldman waited for a few seconds to let Nance stride away. The arrogant captain didn’t even seem to notice that Angel wasn’t following him.
“What do you think of your CO?” Goldman asked.
“He’s a bright officer. His background is in gymnastics, much like my own, and it shows in the ARC suit.”
“Oh, I’m certain he’s capable. But what kind of leader is he?”
Angel wasn’t sure what to say. She wanted to confess that he was a self-obsessed, lazy, glory-hound. But there was zero chance that running down her superior, even if he was from a different branch of service, was a good idea.
“I’ve only known Captain Nance a few days, sir. I couldn’t judge his abilities even if I were inclined.”
Another officer approached, and Goldman stepped away to answer a few questions. When he returned he smiled, even though the gesture looked shark-ish on the serious officer.
“Lieutenant, I wouldn’t dream of putting a junior officer into a difficult position, especially in a special platoon. I have to hand it to you, I don’t think I would serve with a squad of cocky, fighter jocks. I think the Command Staff made a mistake mixing the branches of service for your experimental platoon. I think it has caused undue stress on what is already a difficult job. But I’m a line officer, not an administrator. In my career I’ve had very little to do with the Air Force or the Navy, outside of their duty to deliver my Marines wherever we were needed. That being said, I’m not a fool either. I know when an officer is blowing smoke up my ass. I’ve had plenty of platoon leaders and company commanders who gloss over every problem in the false belief that admitting there are issues in their units will somehow make them look bad. There are issues in every unit, never forget that, Lieutenant. None of us are perfect, not even Marines.”
Angel nodded. It was the first candid conversation she was having with the colonel and she was more than a little surprised at how frank he was being.
“As your commanding officer I’ve heard very little from Captain Nance. You, on the other hand, have been honest in your assessment of your platoon. I value officers who will be straight with me, and who don’t over-estimate the proficiency of their unit. I read the reports and saw the footage from McDuall. I’ll admit I was surprised at the success of your ARC platoon; but I have followed orders, and made your unit a vital part of our strategy. As the battalion commander I need to know the health, readiness, and morale of every platoon so I can formate a battle plan that will give us the greatest chance of success. I’m not getting the information I need from Captain Nance. I am getting it from you. I don’t think that’s an accident, nor do I expect that to change. What I’m saying, Lieutenant, is that I need you to continue to speak for your platoon.”
“Sir, I’m just a junior officer,” Angel said. “The Air Force squad outranks me. I can’t bypass them.”
“Sure you can. You’re a Marine — adapt, improvise, overcome. Don’t let your job get political. I’m ordering you to push back, Lieutenant. I’m ordering you to take an active leadership role. And I’m further ordering you to keep me informed of what I need to know.”
“And if that causes friction in my platoon, Colonel?”
“I don’t want unnecessary problems; but I need good, reliable information. And let’s be honest; we’re talking about people’s lives, not just the people we’re fighting to protect, but the people in your unit. They don’t need a fashion model who doesn’t know his ass from a hole in the ground. This isn’t about career advancement. I would never judge anyone for being ambitious and wanting to rise in the service, but we’re at war, Lieutenant. The brass hasn’t revealed that fact yet, and perhaps we haven’t declared it as such. But make no mistake, we are fighting for the future of humanity. We’re fighting for the colonists working hard to make these foreign worlds a safe, productive place for humanity to grow. Most importantly, we’re fighting for the man and woman on our right and left. I’m looking to you, Lieutenant. Don’t let me down.”
“Yes, Colonel,” Angel said, feeling a lump forming in her throat. “I won’t let you down, sir.”
“Good. Get your people back in this fight as fast as you can. CC me on every report you file. If you have ideas, I want to hear them. We can beat these bastards, I’m certain of that. All we need is to find a way to subdue them before they flee.”
Angel came to attention and saluted.
“Yes sir,” she said, as a feeling of pride mixed with responsibility rose up inside her.
Goldman returned the salute. “Carry on, Lieutenant.”
28
Battle Site B, Roebuck District,
Neo Terra, Tau Ceti System
When Angel got back to the Battle ARC, she wasn’t surprised to find Nance and his squad of Air Force pilots arguing about the best way to get the ship back in the air. Meanwhile, Petty Officer Daniels, along with Cashman and his fire team were working on the ship’s electrical system. Angel went directly to Daniels and Cashman who were hooking a monitor to a tangle of wires near one of the shuttle’s twin engines.
“What’s it look like?’ Angel asked.
Cash looked up. “Not good, but Daniels has a work around.”
“Has Nance or his squad done anything useful?” Angel asked.
“Yes, they’re staying out of the way,” Daniels said, without looking up. “If we bypass the navigation array, we should be able to make orbit.”
“How will Captain King pilot the ship without navigation?” Angel asked. “It won’t do us any good to get into orbit if we’re on the wrong side of the planet.”
“The comms gear will be working,” Daniels explained. “They’ll have to talk us in. It isn’t ideal, but it’s the fastest way to get us to the Ramses and they’ve got mechanics who can get the ship operational in half the time. Otherwise, we’ll be forced to pull all the fried wiring from this section and replace it. It’ll take a full day at least, maybe longer.”
“Fine, get us in the air. I’ll tell Nance.”
“Good luck,” Cash said with a smirk.
“Thank you, Staff Sergeant,” Angel said. “Daniels, if he get’s shocked I won’t tell.”
“Tried that, he’s too dim-witted to know he’s being hurt.”
Angel left the two NCO’s and made her way to the cockpit. The Battle ARC had cockpit doors that folded up on either side of the angled nose of the ship. Captain King was in the pilot’s seat checking various systems. His co-pilot, a round-faced man named Jenkins, who Angel had never heard speak, was beside King. Just outside the ship Nance was holding court with his squad.
“So, did the colonel tear you a new one, Lieutenant?” Nance asked as Angel approached.
“He isn’t happy,” Angel said, deciding to let her superior think whatever he wanted about her conversation with the colonel. She certainly didn’t intend to tell Nance what Goldman thought about his leadership ability.
“No, I got that impression. You need to learn to keep your mouth shut, Angel.”
“The colonel had to know our suits need maintenance.”
“In my experience, it’s best to say as little as possible and let your superior officers find their own w
ay to an obvious conclusion.”
“Good advice,” Angel said. “Petty Officer Daniels can get us flying but we won’t have navigation.”
“What good is that?” Princess asked. “We can’t fly blind.”
“It’s not ideal, but it is possible,” Thriller said.
“The Swarm is on the run,” Raven said. “What’s the rush?”
Angel started to answer, but Nance beat her to the punch.
“Better to get off this rock sooner rather than later,” Nance said. “Another storm could ground us permanently.”
“You said the communications officer got his equipment sorted out, right?” Zilla said. “Surely the armada is sending equipment down. We’re better off waiting.”
“Yeah, I don’t like the idea of flying blind,” Fozzy said. “No sense making things difficult when they don’t need to be.”
“Safety first,” Princess agreed.
“Captain,” Angel spoke up again. “The Colonel has ordered us back to the Ramses ASAP. The equipment we need to test the ARC suits is there.”
“I’m game,” King said with a grin. “I love a challenge.”
“So send the suits up,” Zilla pressed. “They don’t need us to run diagnostics.”
“Lieutenant Mi, I would suggest that each of us would benefit from learning as much about the ARC suits as possible.”
“And I would suggest that you speak when spoken to,” Zilla replied in an icy tone. “Junior officers shouldn’t try to give orders, Angel.”
“I won’t force anyone to go,” Nance said. “Volunteers only.”
Angel had to force herself not to roll her eyes. She knew Nance was lazy and only used his authority when absolutely necessary, but she didn’t realize he was a coward too.
“Fine, I’ll take the ship back up,” Angel said.
“And on the way King can drop us at New Chicago,” Nance said with a smile.
Angel hated the fact that Captain Alex Nance could charm so easily with his winning smile and undeniable good looks. She wasn’t tempted by him, or fooled into believing everything was fine when it wasn’t, but the Air Force officers rallied around their leader. It was almost as if they believed his charisma validated everything they wanted and hoped for.
Battle ARC: ARC Angel Series Book 2 Page 13
