Five climbed into her exo-suit, sliding her slim frame into the harness, and clasping it shut. Glancing around she identified all of the inner controls, and taping a code in, brought the suit to life. It was slow, she could barely hear the dim hum of the fission batter powering up, but then with a roar the suit came to life. Taping a few more buttons, she slipped her arms into the sleeves of the suit as the top sealed shut around her.
For an instant she was in darkness, the tight exo-suit oppressively sealed around her, then her Hud sprang to life. The suit’s A.I springing to life as it started to identify the room around her.
She slipped her hands into the gloved control of her arms, and squeezed them together. Outside, her exo-suit’s hands squeezed into fists. She smiled, and took a deep breath.
“Suit identify controller, 5A 101,” she stated.
“Control welcomed,” the calm A.I voice stated back.
“Run diagnostics,” she ordered.
Her Hud control started to flash as the A.I started the scan. She watched the information scroll past her, barely catching what it was checking, but finally the Hud became clear.
“Combat Exo Suit J2 functioning at parameters,” the A.I voice chimed.
Five nodded her head, while outside her exo-suit did the same. She flexed her leg muscles, and took a step forward. Her exo-suit responded. Grunting in satisfaction she took another couple of steps to the weapon’s locker, opened it, and took out the 20mm assault rifle. If she wasn’t in the suit, the weapon would take two to three men to carry, let alone use. And if those three men did fire it, it was more than likely going to end up killing them instead of what it was pointed at. Every force had an equal and opposite reaction. This weapon was intended to be used by someone in an exo-suit, and reaching out, she flipped open the port hatch on her suit, connected the rifle by the fiberoptic cord inside. With a double blink she pulled up the ammo, which blinked a soft red at her, since the weapon hadn’t been loaded yet. Reaching out she picked up a clip, snapped it into place, and the red was replace by a green number. Two hundred rounds. She double blinked again, and the number was replaced by a diagnostic of the weapon. It to came up green and she clipped the rifle onto her back via magnets.
She then reached out and grabbed the four extra clips, which as she looked down at her legs, and blinked both eyes, storage ports sprung open. She slid two on each leg, and blinked again, the storage ports springing shut. She flexed her wrists, and two weapon ports snapped open, reaching out she brought out the clip of ten high velocity darts, and clipped them into her left wrist. Then she repeated the process with her right wrist. Flicking her wrists, the ports sprang shut. A green icon appeared, showing all green for her wrist launchers. She let her fingers relax, if she squeezed them into a fist now, well and she had to be pointing them up, she would fire a high velocity dart. She had no desire to do that on board the ship, not in high orbit.
She glanced to her left, and blinked three times, bringing up her Hud display showing her shoulder mounted missile launchers. The clips had already been placed it, due to how sensitive and delicate they were, and they showed green. Ten missiles per shoulder. She turned herself away from the weapon’s locker, closing it, then marched from the room. Her exo-suit was armed, and she was ready to go. She didn’t need to drag her feet. This was what she was created for.
So why did the suit start to feel heavy? It shouldn’t, the servos were designed to work with her body, helping it carry the weight. But it felt heavy, like it was fighting her, urging her to not halo jump onto the surface to face certain death.
She let out a sigh, pushing those thoughts down, and let her programing take over. It was easier to just give in, let it drive, make is so she didn’t feel anything. She was created, programed, for this, she didn’t want to fight against it. Which, as soon as the door slid open into the hatch, only the soldier remained.
The soldier saw the others, also in their grey suits, waiting by the hatch. She marched over to join them, which was when she noticed the sergeant wasn’t there yet. Her lips curled into a smile, she might have been the last of her squad, but not the last here. She wouldn’t receive a dressing down.
She barely was able to let that relief wash over her, when the hissed open, and sergeant appeared in his exo-suit. The man glanced them over, pushed the door closed, and a locking sound could be heard.
“Alright, this is the real deal, all of you remember the mission,” the sergeant barked over their headset.
He then marched over to the hatch and punched in his command codes. The inner lights started to flash red.
“And none of you better take a dirt nap from the jump,” he snarled as the hatch slid open, exposing them to the high atmosphere.
Five had never seen a planet before, at least not in person, and her breath caught. The simulations never captured the beauty of it. The hazy light blue of the upper atmosphere bleeding off into the inky blackness of the abyss. She snapped her eyes and her Hud zoomed in onto the planet. She could barely make out the rusty brown of the rocks, and the dark red of the vegetation. A flash of white light appeared, which startled her, she closed her eyes from the pain. When she blinked them open, her Hud had returned to normal.
She felt the sergeant’s hands on her shoulder, and she looked over at the red sensors of his exo-suit.
“What did you just see?” He asked calmly.
“A blinding flash of white light,” she reported feeling confused.
“Jump, all of you, know!” The sergeant roared, and he pushed her from the craft.
She found herself weightless as she started to drift down, staring surprised up at the transport frigate as it got smaller, her squad jumped behind her. It looked more like the sergeant had thrown some of them.
“Incoming batteries!” She heard the sergeant scream over the speakers as he launched himself into space.
She glanced over her shoulder, trying to righted herself, and saw miniature stars racing up towards them. She flicked her eyes, and her Hud displayed her back. More miniature stars were racing up from the ground. She tensed her abdomen, and rotated in the air so her body was facing the planet. Her Hud however was still displaying her back, so she watched as the first miniature star blasted against the frigate’s shields. Her eyes screamed and she closed them as more stars burst against the shield.
All she could see was whiteness, and even when her vision returned, she wished it hadn’t. The transport frigate was split into two parts, explosions and fires ripping across it. She could also just make out the forms of unfortunate crew who’d been sucked into space. However, despite already dead, the miniature stars continued to fly toward it, ripping the remains apart.
Then one of the stars collided with Ten, and she heard his brief shriek over her speakers, as the white plasma consumed him. She shuddered, and with a blink, flipped her cameras back to her helmet. She watched the rust red ground growing closer, as gravity finally caught her, and ripped her down. She twitched her fingers, and her feet boosters sprung to life, slowing her descent a bit, and orientated her body with the landing coordinates. Then with a light twitch of her fingers her boosters flipped off.
Like the sergeant stated, she had no desire to take a ‘dirt nap’, though at the speed that she would land without her boosters, they wouldn’t need to dig out a grave.
Her face lit up at her private joke, and before she knew it she was laughing. It was wild and a bit unhinged, but she felt it as she continued to freefall towards the surface. She finally felt alive, hurtling toward the ground at 200mph.
Then she twitched her hands, fired her boosters, and landed bending her knees to take the impact.
Her heart throbbed with agony at how short the moment of feeling alive had been. She had been human, a person, and now she was a soldier again. A number. And her programing took over, reaching up she unclipped her rifle and brought it up sweeping the area for hostiles. Around her the remaining members of her squad touched down.
“Alright, change of plans,” the sergeant stated as he landed pulling his own assault rifle out.
“Sir?” Four Alpha asked.
She could hear the worry in Four’s voice, which meant the sergeant did too, but he didn’t rip into her. He just turned to stare at her, and Five could feel the pity radiating off of him.
“Last campaign, we were able to eradicate their heavies, bugs that blasted plasma out of their ends with such force that it broke atmosphere. It was the reason we halo jumped and didn’t take a landing craft,” he calmly explain, “that and stealth is better against the bugs. Guess they learned, grew new heavies, that plasma was damn fast.”
Five watched the older clone shrug his shoulders, “Regardless, we are not getting off this rock if we don’t take out those heavies,” he continued motioning towards the horizon.
“And with them blasting anything that gets within high orbit, we aren’t getting reinforced either,” the sergeant remarked starting to march towards the area the plasma balls had come from, “we’re the spear ladies and gentlemen. We’re supposed to establish a beach-head. So let’s move out.”
Five glance over at Four, then Six and Seven. She noticed their micro nod of support, and all four followed after their sergeant. The hopeless feeling from before was smothered by her programing, but she knew it was there. She wondered if the others felt it as well. If they did, would it matter, because like her they weren’t going to fight against it. They had a mission to accomplish, which in the end, was the only thing that mattered.
At least she had tasted what it was like to feel alive.
Matthew William Lindquist 