“Fighting the Herculeans and liberating the oppressed people from them and their old governments.”
“And, finally, what is your name?”
“ .”
He turns away towards his peers. “He is ready.”
The room disappears as I fall asleep into the darkness.
Remember your training. Remember you’re a warrior. You are a champion of the Party and Cause. You’re life’s purpose is to fulfill the needs of your countrymen. They need you to win this war. They need you to be their champion.
“Up and ready!” says a Party Rep.
I jump out of bed and stand straight. It’s been nearly a week of training, to test that I’ve fully recovered. I can’t wait to finally get out of here.
“You’re to be at the city square immediately!”
I get dressed and leave down the hallway with the Party Rep, and meet other officers and Commissars gathering around in a balcony overlooking the center square of Jericho. Riot police and armed soldiers line the area as civilians watch and cry and protest. On the square stands fifteen tied and gagged men to posts. Before them awaits a firing squad at attention.
Chief War Commissar Lucien takes the square. “This is the face of the enemy. It is no different than the Herculean’s goal to eradicate humanity on this planet. These are the faces of terrorists. People who would rather raise arms and attack us,” he turns to the crowds who begin to boo him loudly, “your allies and your friends. They are cowards and traitors. And they will die for it.”
The drum goes off to a slow beat and the fire squad raises weapons to the ready. The drum stops, the soldiers fire. The bonded rebels collapse against their posts as blood fills the square. Lucien continues, “Starting today all Coalition controlled territory is under martial law. You will not leave the cities. You will not leave your houses past sunset. And under no circumstance will you be allowed to carry or own weapons. If you are discovered as such you will be treated as a terrorist. And this is what we do to terrorists.” Lucien leaves the stage, and the group directs me to a small air depot lined with Ospreys ready for takeoff.
I stand with my sack ready to leave. Before I depart a Party Rep and man in a lab coat meet me by my Osprey. The doctor speaks, “Do you feel sympathy for the rebels at all? That maybe their punishment was too harsh?”
I look at him. “I came here to fight Herculeans. And anyone who tries to get in my way of doing that is no better than the aliens. They shouldn’t have even been given a trial. We don’t give them to the Herculeans when we go out and fight them. No other enemy of the Coalition should be given that privilege either.” I feel the Party Rep pat me on the back, and I step onto the Osprey ramp to get back to my brothers in arms.
The Osprey takes off. Inside the hull are two other operatives and an officer. The officer informs me first. “Forget any past names you are familiar being addressed by. You are now Operative, Romeo-Alpha-Mike, or Ram. Your two squad mates on each side of me are Zero,” he points to a woman on the left, “Marksmen specialist, and Pi,” he nods to the man on the right, “explosives and demolitions expert.” They are both dressed in tight body encompassing ACU’s. “Ram, you are the support specialist.” He turns around towards a door. “This is no ordinary aircraft. Inside that door, is a miniature armory where you will be outfitted into prototype Legatis armor. These Legatis powered armor suits allow you to move while barely taxing any of your stamina, carry incredible amounts of weight, and sustain an equally incredible amount of damage. The rest of your team, Ram, has already began prep suit up, go inside and get fully combat operational.”
The door slides open. I enter it. The walls and ceiling are lined with robotic arms and arsenals of weaponry and armor. A voice command AI system interacts with me. “Remove exterior clothing.” I strip down naked. A container appears before me. “Attire ACU.”
I put the body covering fatigue over myself. Two robotic arms appear to each side of me. “Please stand still.” A cold grasp tightens around my ankles. I look down, my feet have been locked into place by metal clamps. Then two more robotic arms come down, one before and behind me. They get busy to work. They whiz about inserting an exoskeleton frame around my limbs and torso, that is then bolted together around my limbs in intervals, and large cylinder torso rings up to my shoulders. Next, large plates of gray armor are sealed onto the frame completely encompassing me, but the suit is extremely light. The world becomes dark and quiet. Wires and breathing tubes hiss while they are connected form the back of my helmet to my torso armor and life support system pack. There is a short whine, then my visor lights up into a heads-up-display, and lines of numbers scroll down the left side of the HUD.
The arms go away. One of the walls bends and leans out with a prototype XM-12 LMG. “Equip your weapon.” I grab the LMG. A large metal container is lowered behind me and screwed into my rear harnesses. The metal cylinder is connected to the stock of my LMG via a feeding cord. Next, a duel, oval shaped container is connected to the underneath of my LMG. My visor kicks in operational after booting up. The data on my armor and weaponry scroll pass my eyes. The LMG can alternate firing modes between rifle ballistic rounds or slug scatter rounds. The container connected on the bottom of the LMG is an under mounted grenade launcher.
These are some sweet toys. Can’t wait to see what he can do with them.
“Systems at full operational capabilities,” says the AI. “Systems go.”
The door opens behind me and my new squad mates stand nearby, grabbing the handle on the ceiling for support. The officer speaks into my earpiece. “The hatches below you will open momentarily Ram, you will enter the pod being ferried by this Osprey with your team. From there, the pod will be launched like an orbital missile directly into a war zone on the northern fringe of the Kuplar region that is resisting a Herculean advance. The battalion is sustaining high casualties. Your directive is to repel the Herculean invasion, and lead elements of any unorganized Coalition force back into combat.”
The hatches open and I step into the pod. I sit down and strap into a full body harness, where minutes later my teammates enter after me armored as well, and strap up. I inspect their Legatis armor. They alternate in size and equipment to fit their combat roles. Pi’s shoulder plates and combat helmet is shaded with a light yellow, and he has a double bandolier of tools and gadgets across his torso, and carries a large cylinder case between his legs. Zero’s armor is a dark red tint, her armor slick and compressed. A mono scope with multiple zoom range rings perches on top of her helmet, alongside an extended radio antennae on her left side so that she can communicate from farther distances.
The pod shakes viciously in the snowy clouds we ascend through.
The AI speaks, “Cabin loosing pressure. Operatives, perform closed system procedures now.” I scroll through the data on my visor while closing my right or left eye depending on what side of the screen I want to access, and blinking at the application I want to use. The outside rumble of the world becomes dwarfed and offset as my suit seals itself shut, and the noise of my breathing becomes louder. The suit creates its own pressure and I feel a normal heavy again. I breathe in the recycled oxygen from a canister on my back. I can only speak to my squad mates through the earpieces now.
“Pod disengaging in ten,” alerts the AI.
My LMG compacts itself into a neat rectangle that magnetically sticks to my side.
“Five.”
My squad mates give me a thumbs up. I grasp the buckles tightly.
“Two.”
It’s time to get these aliens off my planet.
“One.”