As the loading ramp began to close, Angel caught sight of Staff Sergeant Cashman walking across her field of view. He was the opposite of Nance’s sculpted, lean physique. The staff sergeant was thick, powerful, and unrefined. His dark hair and skin stood out against the green corn stalks that had been trampled down by the Marines, and she was pleased to see the massive double-barreled war cannon strapped to his back.
He would be okay, she told herself as the Battle ARC lifted off. Her squad was well-trained. They understood their purpose, and after giving up the attempts to do what Angel could do, used the ARC suits with lethal efficiency. They were fast and deadly. She hoped to hear the stories they would surely return with. Tales of victory in battle. Angel’s heart beat a little faster as she considered the reality of what was on her mind.
Death had been close before, but it seemed to have settled onto her shoulder. Fear wrapped around her heart like a boa constrictor slowly squeezing the life from her. Even breathing was laborious with such stress weighing down her every thought.
“I never had a chance to thank you, Lieutenant,” Goldman said as the drop ship raced toward the ambush sight. “Your input on this strategy was invaluable.”
“Actually, sir, I only added a tiny point. Most of the strategy came from Commander Mercer.”
“On the Ramses?”
“Yes, Colonel.”
“I’ll see that I note that in my report. But don’t sell yourself short, Lieutenant. I’ve read your file. You’ve got a talent for strategy and tactics. The ambush in the mountains was superb.”
“Again, sir, I relied on Staff Sergeant Cashman and his fire team for most of that.”
“You are too humble, Lieutenant,” Goldman said. “Some people are born to lead. I see a lot of potential in you. If you’ll permit me, I plan to promote you to first lieutenant, once we have the Swarm subdued.”
“Thank you, sir,” Angel said, unable to hide her surprise. “I would be honored.”
“The honor is mine. You and your ARC platoon have turned the tide in this war. I pray all goes as planned and we’re able to finish it on the battlefield today.”
“I join you in that hope, sir,” Angel said.
The flight to Nero’s Temple took two hours. From studying the map of the terrain, Angel knew that if the Swarm headed straight for the ambush site, it would take them a full twenty-four hours to arrive. Captain King put the drop ship down behind a ridge several miles past the five hills that made up Nero’s Temple. As Angel exited the ship, another transport landed not far away. It was a much larger troop carrier carrying three hundred Marines in full battle rattle.
“We’ll walk into the ambush sight from here,” Goldman said. “No sense leaving a trail that might give the trap away. We don’t know if the Swarm reads tracks or can smell exhaust fumes left by our transports. Better safe than sorry.”
Angel checked her weapons. The Trasker 51 was in safety mode and strapped to her chest. The magazine was full of the explosive penetrating rounds, and she carried four replacements on her ARC suit. Daniels gave her a backpack with rations, a wound kit, and more ammunition. Glaring light and heat was beating down on the rugged terrain without mercy from Tau Ceti. Little dust clouds rose with each step the Marines took. It was a forbidding place with towering mountains on every side that looked so old they could come crumbling down at the slightest touch.
“Paradise at last,” Daniels said sarcastically.
“It’s as good a place as any for a fight,” Angel said, slipping her battle helmet over her head.
“I forget those suits are temperature-static,” Daniels said. “You’ll be cool as a cucumber while the rest of us melt like ice-cream in Saigon. I know I’m a gear head, but sweat does not become this woman. No, I prefer temperature-controlled environments.”
They marched for two hours before reaching the ambush site. From the ground it looked like nothing more than another valley. Goldman approached as they took a short break before ascending to the top of the five hills.
“Does your suit help you get up hills like these, Lieutenant?” Goldman asked.
“Yes sir,” Angel said.
“Would you mind to press on toward peak three? It’s the tallest and closest to the plain. I’d like a report from up there. We should be able to see the Swarm well before they arrive. We have time yet, but I’d rather not have any surprises.”
“Of course, Colonel. I’ll be in touch.”
Angel took off at a jog, just the way she’d been taught in basic training. A steady, rhythmic gait that she could keep up for miles. The ARC suit made the jog into a bounding sprint that few people without an ARC suit could keep up with. She ran up the hill at first, but halfway to the summit, the hill became very steep. She used her thrusters to propel her jumps, and reached the top before the Marines in the shade of a long, rocky ridge had finished their rest.
“This is Lieutenant Murphy, I’m in position,” she said over the command channel.
“Very good, Lieutenant,” Goldman’s voice over her battle helmet’s audio system was as clear as if he were standing next to her. “What do you see?”
“A wide open prairie,” Angel replied. “No sign of the enemy, sir. No sign of anything.”
“Excellent. Hold that position until Captain Byron reaches your position.”
“Roger that,” Angel said.
She sat down, grateful that the battle helmet kept the glare of the sun off her head. She didn’t need shelter in the ARC suit, which worked to keep her body at its optimal temperature. Trying to imagine the Swarm marching across the prairie and into the ambush site was difficult. It felt like she was reaching too far, trying too hard to make something happen. The Swarm was wildly unpredictable. The moment they thought they had the strange aliens figured out was the moment she feared the most.
45
C.S.F. Ramses, close orbit,
Neo Terra, Tau Ceti system
Paula Mercer closed out the report she was dictating. It was the last of her work that needed to be taken care of. She wanted her mind free for the work ahead. The upcoming battle was important, and not simply because it was her strategy being carried out. The CSF existed to protect humanity’s citizens on a variety of worlds and space stations. For decades funds had been allocated to build interstellar ships, purchase lethal weapons, and train a professional fighting force. For as long as the Colonial Space Fleet has been in existence, there are have been voices calling for it’s demise. It was a waste of money, they said. It wasn’t needed, they argued. And finally, the CSF had the opportunity to show humanity what it was really capable of.
Paula didn’t know a single person living on Neo Terra, but she cared about them. She cared about the potential that a world like Neo Terra offered. There was enough space on the colony world to feed the entire human race and double the current population. The last thing she wanted was to fail to stop the Swarm. There was simply too much at stake.
She left her office. She had been sitting too long. Taking over a ship the size of the Ramses was a difficult task under any circumstance. The work load alone was staggering. Throw in the pressures of helping coordinate a war, and it was nearly impossible. Paula hadn’t slept more than four hours at a stretch since coming aboard. And there was no time for personal fitness or self-care. Eventually she would have to make time, but she had many goals to accomplish first. Perhaps the most important was coordinating the mobile units on the ground as they prepared to herd the Swarm into the ambush.
Walking on the Bridge was always a thrill. Everyone came to attention and no one sat until she did. The watch officer, whose station was by the door, announced her entrance.
“Commander on deck!”
“At ease,” Paula said as she breezed toward her station in the center of the room.
“The ship is yours, Commander,” Brown said.
As first officers went, Paula was pleased with Lieutenant Commander Jimmy Brown. He was smart, friendly, and most importantly, open t
o suggestions. Some officers had done things a certain way for too long. They had trouble adapting to new leadership. Every commanding officer had their own preferences, and accommodating those preferences was the responsibility of the officers who served under her. Brown was adaptable, never complained, and was perpetually happy.
“I have the con,” Paula said, sinking into her seat and bringing up the ship’s systems. After making sure the ship was running smoothly, she turned her attention to the plot. She studied the holographic projection in front of her, noting the position of every ship and space station. Nothing seemed amiss, and for that she was grateful.
“Alright, everything looks good up here,” she said. “Let’s switch the plot to the Orion satellite feed.”
“Aye, Commander,” the ship’s technical officer said.
A view of the Augustan Desert appeared on the large video screen from dozens of miles above the surface. There were labels on certain landmarks. Mercer saw the area known as Nero’s Temple. Beyond a row of ragged mountains, she could just make out the large troop carrier. The people on the ground were much to small to make out, but the Swarm showed up. It was a mass of dark brown moving slowly south. It was still over a hundred kilometers from the ambush sight.
“I want tactical on the holograph,” Mercer ordered. “And subset the feeds from our surveillance planes here,” she pointed to the upper right hand corner of the video screen, “and here.”
The holograph showed the same area as the long range satellite image, but with each of the mobile units marked and labeled as Drover one through eight.
“Comms, let’s check our connections,” Mercer said. “Let’s start with Colonel Goldman’s main force.”
“Aye, Commander,” the communications officer said. “Go ahead when ready.”
Paula noticed with satisfaction that Emperor One showed as a channel on her chair’s touch screen controls. Emperor One was Goldman’s code name for the attack, which had been designated Nero’s Revenge. Each of the fighting groups on the hills surrounding the ambush sight were labeled Gladiator one through five.
“Emperor One, this is Jupiter Overwatch. Do you read me?”
“Loud and clear Jupiter,” Goldman’s no nonsense voice was unmistakable. “We’re getting settled now. All’s quiet in the temple.”
“Roger that,” Mercer said. “We’ll begin operations as soon as your people are ready.”
“Message received, Jupiter. Stand by for confirmation.”
Mercer muted the channel and looked at her comms officer.
“Let’s try Drover One.”
“Aye, Commander.”
A moment later the icon appeared on her touch-screen controls labeled Drover 1.
“Drover One, this is Jupiter Overwatch, do you read?”
“Five by five, Jupiter,” Major Hammonds replied. “We’re in position and awaiting your order to move ahead.”
“Roger that, Drover One. The Emperor is settling into the temple. We have eyes on your position and the Swarm.”
“Thank you, Jupiter. Drover One is standing by.”
They repeated the process for all eight mobile units. The Swarm was moving south, but the ambush sight was west of their position. Three of the mobile units were to the southeast of the Swarm, ready to converge and push the aliens toward the trap. Three more units were southwest of the Swarm’s projected movement. They would engage if the Swarm veered off course, and two more units were to the north of the route that lead to Nero’s Temple.
A full hour passed. Mercer checked in with her replacement on the Emergency Alert Station. Lieutenant Commander Kwon was a capable leader and very technically attuned. Mercer had confidence he would do well at the EAS post. They checked and rechecked the data feeds from both surveillance planes circling the Augustan Desert. The pilots checked in as well. Everything seemed to be ready.
Finally, after all the comm checks were complete, Mercer heard from Colonel Goldman.
“Jupiter Overwatch, this is Emperor One. Gladiators one through five are in position. You may start operation Nero’s Revenge.”
“Roger that, stand by for confirmation,” Mercer said, before hitting the mute button again. “This is it, people. I want everyone sharp and focused. Is there any reason why we shouldn’t proceed?”
The Bridge remained silent so Paula un-muted the channel to Drover One.
“Nero’s Revenge is a Go. I repeat, Nero’s Revenge is a Go.”
“Roger that, Jupiter. We are moving toward the target now,” Hammonds said.
Paula muted the comms channel and opened the link to Emperor One.
“Drover One is moving against the target,” Paula said. “Stand by for updates.”
“Roger that, Jupiter. Emperor One is standing by,” Goldman confirmed.
Paula muted the channel again and looked closer to the plot. “How far out is Drover One from the Swarm?”
“Ninety-seven kilometers,” the space combat officer replied. “ETA is twenty-one minutes.”
“Let’s hope this works,” Mercer said. “If anyone needs to go to the bathroom, now is your chance. Once we make contact, no one leaves the Bridge until the battle is over.”
She couldn’t help but wish the Ramses was taking a more direct role in the battle. It was difficult to watch from the sidelines, but she understood the importance of the role they were performing. She would see it through and do her best to help however she could. Breathing a silent prayer, she wished the Marines success and safety.
46
Dropship designated Drover One, Augustan Desert,
Neo Terra, Tau Ceti system
The ship touched down and a full platoon of special forces hurried out. Cash watched them go, giving himself a little distance before following them down the ramp. He was heavily armed with the massive war cannon, his Trasker 51, a sidearm, and two knives. It would have been a hellishly heavy load in addition to his regular gear, but Cash was in the ARC suit. It didn’t give him added strength, but the weapons felt somehow less cumbersome with the amazing technology of the suit. He had twin bandoliers that could be fed into the war cannon. It was enough ammunition to stop a small army, or hopefully turn a horde of ravaging aliens.
“Red Dogs! Form a skirmish line,” the platoon lieutenant shouted. “Squads one and two, on my right. Squads three and four, on my left.”
The staff sergeant, a big man named LeRonzo Penny, shouted orders that rolled across the desert prairie like peals of thunder.
“Check your weapons!” Penny bellowed. “I want everyone locked and loaded.”
“Make sure they don’t shoot the guy in the super suit,” Cash said.
“You worried, Cash?”
“Always, Penny. I’ve been in the shit before, but nothing like the Swarm.”
“You really run right into the herd like a damned fool? Can you do them jumps and tricks like Lieutenant Murphy?”
“No one can what what the LT does. She’s one of a kind. But I’m no slouch.”
“We’ll see. Try not to get dead.”
“That’s my number-one priority, Staff Sergeant. Always has been.”
The big man chuckled and Cash checked his own weapon. The three-hundred round bandolier was fed into the breech of the big double-barreled weapon. The safety was switched off. With the twitch of a finger he could pour death onto anything within a hundred meters. Cash checked his suit’s system. Everything was green. He made sure the thrusters were online and zoomed his vision toward the horizon. It was easy to see the dust cloud kicking up by the Swarm, but with his suit’s telescoping view, he could see the creatures themselves. The range finder showed them to be just over fifteen-hundred meters.
“It’s go time, Lieutenant,” Cash said.
“Good luck, Staff Sergeant.”
“Give ‘em hell, Cash,” Penny called out.
Cash nodded, then started running. With his weapons weighing him down, he started slow; but the reflexive souls of his feet propelled him forward, and
he was soon racing toward the aliens. As the range finder neared a hundred meters, he jumped into the air, powering his thrusters to give him altitude. He pulled the trigger on the war cannon and sprayed the oncoming Swarm with bullets. The heavy lead slugs weren’t explosive, yet they packed so much kinetic energy that drone body parts flew in the air.
Turning as he descended, he gave himself a boost in the new direction, and hit the ground running parallel to the approaching swarm. He opened fire again, racing forward and spraying a deadly rain of fire across the horde of aliens. Everything was happening fast, and Cash didn’t notice that most of the Swarm shifted directions, turning away from his attack. A few hundred of the creatures continued toward him, forming a shield of bodies to protect the larger Swarm. Cash continued running. He emptied the war cannon just as the skirmish line opened up on the small herd. Unlike the regular units, special forces carried different types of weapons. Cash heard the chattering of machine guns as well as the hollow pops of assault rifles and grenade launchers. The creatures closest to him blew apart almost as if they had stepped on land mines.
Instead of reversing course, which Cash could do in the ARC suit with almost no effort, he curved around and headed back toward the skirmish line. He was careful to stay clear of their line of fire. The Marines were hungry for action and fired on the aliens with gusto. Finally clear of the action, Cash turned his attention to the Swarm and saw that it had turned southwest. They would have to hit the aliens again, but they were moving closer to the ambush site instead of away from it. The gunfire stopped as Cash reached the line of Marines. They immediately checked their ammunition and reloaded their weapons.
“The Swarm has changed course,” a voice said over the command channel, which Cash heard in his battle helmet. “Good work, Lieutenant. Have your platoon reform and we’ll pick you up.”
Cash saw the lieutenant waving his platoon toward him. Cash joined the others, and when the drop ship landed he settled in beside Staff Sergeant Penny. The big man eyed him with a strange look until Cash removed his helmet.
Battle ARC: ARC Angel Series Book 2 Page 22
