Lost Systems: Legacy War Book 2

by John Walker

  Had a Holy Grail of information not potentially resided in their archives, it would’ve been a hard sell to send anyone just then. Even a chance of gathering what they needed had to be enough. The Tol’An weren’t slowing down and if humanity didn’t discover the full extent of their purpose, they couldn’t defend against them.

  Or whatever it is they think is coming our way. This is why we’re here. I’ll take those marines out for a drink when we get back to Earth after this one.

  ***

  Squadron Leader Dennis Arden settled into his seat, watching his scanner as they rapidly approached their destination planet. Their briefing suggested they would be operating primarily in atmosphere, potentially fighting desperate spacers who were stuck on the surface of the planet.

  He also noted that they outnumbered their potential enemies by two to one. Nice to have an advantage. Their last mission involved a three-faction battle. The resulting chaos cost them a pilot and a lot of equipment. After that brawl, he figured he was ready for anything the universe could throw at him.

  Until he sat through the briefing concerning this planet.

  The volatile weather patterns made him nervous. Horrifying storms could come up with little warning and depending on their variety, the best pilots wouldn’t be able to handle them. Where they planned to operate proved to be one of the least active locations so they at least had that going for them.

  Their potential opponents were flying around down there so that put a mark in the hope column. Plus, the area they were going into happened to be one of the most stable. With any luck, they’d provide some support and return to orbit to await further instructions. The enemy had finite resources to throw at them so he couldn’t imagine being in harm’s way for long.

  Dennis felt relieved he wouldn’t be going down to the surface with the marines. The briefing also talked about the indigenous life forms, a bunch of mutated brutes that were super tough and ate people. When the pilots around him exchanged glances, it was clear they were worried about one thing: getting shot down.

  Landing on that world without power armor would be pure insanity. I wonder if these things are tough enough to tear into a life pod.

  The curiosity was not one he wanted to indulge beyond the rhetorical question.

  They drew close enough to receive images from the planet, courtesy of Lieutenant Gold on the bridge. Dennis was most interested in his opponents and she delivered a fantastic technical readout of the fighters they’d be facing. Short wings and tail fins attached to a compact body with the cockpit visible toward the front of the stubby nose.

  Weapons appeared to be energy based with some missiles. The lack of mass throwers intrigued Dennis. The last enemy they faced also forsook actual chunks of metal. He wondered why, if at some point they came to the conclusion they were simply not efficient enough to have any value in combat.

  They’ve been working out great for us so far.

  “Mustang, this is Commander Bowman, we are on swift approach to orbit. Prepare to launch in two minutes.”

  Dennis drew a deep breath, settling his thoughts. Even when they left the Gnosis, the trip to the surface would take some time. Ages ago, when humanity first pierced the stars, it would take the space shuttle an hour to land on Earth. Advanced tech allowed ships to take a far more direct approach.

  When they entered the upper atmosphere, the computer would plot a proper course for a safe entry vector. From the moment they committed their plunge to being combat effective would be roughly ten minutes, just a little longer than it took for their predecessors to make it to orbit in the first place.

  They would escort the shuttle carrying the marines. The Gnosis was supposed to make contact with the spacers trapped on the planet for some diplomacy, but Dennis wasn’t optimistic. Chances were good they already reached out to allies across the stars for help. They couldn’t be far behind.

  And if they show up while we’re here, that’s going to be a real fight. I hope everyone’s prepared for that possibility.

  Bombers were on standby, which told Dennis the Gnosis either planned for company or considered having to hit the downed ship with some high yield explosives. It would devastate the area but removing the control center of the fighters would definitely give them an advantage. Not exactly sportsmanlike, but then again war wasn’t about kindness.

  “Mustang, we have achieved orbit. Launch in thirty seconds. Hold position and await further instructions.”

  They haven’t made contact yet. I’d love to be a fly on the wall for that conversation.

  The countdown began and Dennis led the way, launching first. He banked high to clear the hangar, tossing a beacon to the rest of his team so they could follow suit. The shuttle would come after them and after whatever negotiations concluded, they’d start their run for the facility below.

  While he waited, Dennis ran a quick scan of the planet’s weather pattern and found that the winds were manageable and the skies clear over their theater of operations. Good news considering what they might be doing down there in less than thirty minutes. The rest of Mustang squadron gathered around him, falling into a vanguard formation.

  Two shuttles lumbered out and positioned themselves behind the fighters. The gang’s all here, Dennis thought, now for the captain to do his part. If we don’t have to fire a shot, that would be okay with me. Something tells me I’m indulging some wishful thinking. No one’s been reasonable out here so far. Why would these guys?

  ***

  Desmond watched various reports fly by on his personal screen, waiting for the one from Thayne and Gil to tell them who they were dealing with on the surface. It hadn’t come yet, and he decided it was time to reach out to them. They’d been working on a variety of tasks and maybe they missed this one.

  He established a com link and dialed them in. “Thayne, we sent some scan data to you a while ago. We’re orbiting the planet now and we’d like to head down there but there’s a crashed ship. Does it belong to the Kalrawv? They have fighters so we need to understand what we’re getting into.”

  “Sorry, Captain.” Thayne’s voice crackled over the small speaker. Some kind of atmospheric interference gave it a grainy texture. “Gil just looked and confirmed that the ship you’re seeing belongs to the Kalrawv Group. He believes they thought they could download the data he found without him.”

  “Thank you.” Desmond decided not to ask why they hadn’t provided the information sooner. “What’re the chances they will be amiable to some diplomacy?”

  “Minimal,” Thayne replied. “As you saw on the station, they were more prone to shoot at us rather than offer a peaceful alternative. Oh, Gil also states that there is some kind of signal being sent from that ship, going out of system. They have likely requested help and if so, depending on how long they’ve been down there, it may be on the way.”

  “Understood. I’m signing off now.” Desmond killed the connection and turned to Salina. “Get the ship down there on our com. I want to see if we can prove our guests wrong.”

  “We’re transmitting,” Salina replied.

  “Unidentified vessel, this is Captain Desmond Bradford of the Gnosis. We are here on a peaceful exploration mission and we’d like to understand your intentions before we break atmosphere. Are you in need of assistance?”

  The translator took a moment but he did see they were receiving a message back. Their computer voice spoke for the ship below, articulating the words in a not quite natural way. “Gnosis, we are not in need of assistance. This site has been claimed by the Kalrawv Group. Depart immediately or you will be fired upon.”

  Desmond got Thayne back on the line. “Do these guys have a legal right to this planet? Are we violating something by being here?”

  “This planet is forbidden,” Thayne replied. “As we mentioned before, the Pahxin have declared it off limits. They are here without concern for their own safety and have defied a legal order from our planet. There will be no legal measures they can hide behind. Besi
des, we cannot allow them to gather the data Gil found. Weapons in their hands will be catastrophic.”

  “Thank you.” Desmond returned his attention to the alien ship. “We are in need of data on this planet and we’re to understand you shouldn’t be here. I’d like to make this peaceful, but I won’t leave without what I came for. Furthermore, we’re not going to let you take anything that can be used as a weapon. My advice is allow us to help you leave this world.”

  “We don’t need your generosity,” came the reply. “We will destroy any ship you send to the surface.”

  “So be it.” Desmond killed the connection and turned to Vincent. “Sounds like they’ve made up their mind, huh?”

  “I guess so.” Vincent sighed. “They’re trapped down there and they still want to fight? This makes no sense. They must’ve received some kind of message from their saviors … something to give them hope.”

  “Which means we need to pick up the pace if we want to get what we came for and get the hell out.” Desmond scowled at the screen. “Give the ships a go order. Shuttles to the planet, escorts to engage. Cassie, you’re in charge of our guests. Make sure they’re ready to assist with extracting the data.”

  “I’m on it,” Cassie replied. “I’m tapped into marine coms. Thayne and Gil are standing by.”

  “Good, don’t let them get distracted,” Vincent added. “When our guys are in position, they won’t have time to wait.”

  “None of us will.” Desmond turned to Salina. “Keep tight on the scans. Their friends might show up before we’re done.”

  “Gil said they don’t tend to send multiple ships out on assignments,” Cassie said. “So that’s something.”

  Good news for us, Desmond thought. I’d rather not fend off five ships again. He watched as their ships plunged toward the surface, making good speed to break atmosphere. The operation began, and he felt tension grip his gut. The next hour would see many people putting their lives on the line for the data they needed. I hope this pays off.

  ***

  Heat and Gorman talked their way into the mission against the wishes and suggestion of the medical staff. Neither of them intended to allow a little graze to keep them aboard the ship while the rest of their guys went to the most dangerous place any of them had ever seen. The marines needed all the experience they could get, minor wounds or not.

  They weren’t up against automated defenses this time. The ships flying around out there were sentient controlled and, on the surface, they needed to worry about two different forces. That part would be the same as their previous mission. They had dealt with aliens and drones there. Depending on how tough the planet’s inhabitants were, they might have a hard push to the site.

  Heat looked over the others in their power armor and wished he could see some faces. He wanted to gauge the level of tension, but the technology made everyone look calm. They weren’t even fidgeting. Chances were good none of them worried too much about the situation. All of them were veterans of the last drop.

  The briefing made this one sound somewhat direct and they didn’t have to bring back an Orb. Providing part of the planet didn’t blow up this time, it couldn’t possibly be worse. I probably jinxed the operation. Good job, Heat. These alien worlds and their advanced technology proved particularly volatile and during the briefing, they heard about the unstable power matrix.

  Whatever alien scientist thought that stuff up didn’t worry too much about safety and maybe it cost them everything. Heat glanced out the window as they broke the cloud coverage and frowned at the barren landscape in every direction. There were trees off in the distance but only rock formations and dust covered the area beneath them.

  Can’t really judge them considering how badly we’ve treated our own home. If it weren’t for all the resources we put into recycling technology, we’d probably be in a similar spot. I’d like to think we wouldn’t go so far as to eradicate our entire species, but I suppose we’ve tried a few times now.

  “One minute to drop,” the pilot called. The shuttles didn’t want to land. Their goal was to deposit the men and get back to orbit where they’d safely remain near a different squadron of fighters. When the marines called, they’d drop back down and do a hot pickup, getting them back to the Gnosis in short order.

  They’d rehearsed this type of maneuver before when they were training on Earth. It worked out pretty well, but the timing was the trick. After several training runs, they knew when to call in the pilots to get out of their situation with the minimal amount of time in the open. They even practiced it on the moon to get a sense of how to work in different gravity.

  “Listen up,” Heat spoke over the com, a firm but quiet voice. “When we hit that ground, we have to establish a perimeter then advance on the facility. We can’t rush it. Scans show nothing in the immediate vicinity except the downed ship some four kilometers away. They do not have patrols out there right now.”

  “So what you’re saying is we probably won’t find anyone to fight,” Gorman said.

  “Wouldn’t it be nice if this turned into a milk run?” Heat asked. “But we all know there are mutants out here somewhere and while we’ve done some work on our scanners, they still can’t penetrate the ground too deeply. Plan for a fight.” The pilot turned on the light, indicating they had ten seconds to depart. “Get on your feet. It’s go time.”

  Chapter 6

  Dennis followed the trajectory plotted by his computer and the fighter began to shake. Shields flared from the heat of entering the atmosphere and he kept an eye on their status posted on the digital HUD transposed over the cockpit. They remained at a steady ninety percent through his descent and as the wind caught his wings, he felt the resistance in his flight stick.

  He liked the feedback. It reminded him of how he learned to fly as a teenager with his father. Experiencing the wind, working with weather rather than fighting against it. Joining the military helped him hone his skills, turning them into a weapon. As he and his squadron raced downward toward the facility, he prepared himself for the brawl to come.

  Scanners showed there were six fighters closing with another five further out. We need to clear the first wave fast so we’re not overwhelmed. I could call down the reinforcements and double their numbers … but I don’t want us tripping over each other. This will likely be a quick one, especially since we have to keep them off the marines.

  Mustang was comprised of six ships, so the odds were even with the first fight. If they took too long, however, they’d be in the thick of a potentially difficult fight. Ultimately, it came down to the skill of the pilots they were facing. Were they professional fighter pilots or people who could keep their craft in the air without crashing into a mountain?

  We’re about to find out.

  The shuttles headed straight for the ground, plotting a direct course that looked like they planned on crashing into their target. They’d level out eventually, just enough to let their occupants jump out, then their plan was to return to orbit. Dennis needed to keep the enemy off of them long enough to get to safety while providing some air cover for the ground forces.

  Again, this first wave is key to our success. Take them out and the rest is covered.

  Flight Lieutenant Shane Goring, Mustang Squadron’s second in command, broke radio silence. “Listen up, folks. Stick to your wingmen and don’t do anything crazy. As far as we’re concerned, these are real players out there. Don’t assume they’re fodder because we don’t know the military they belong to.”

  My thoughts exactly, Dennis thought. He appreciated seeing Shane take some initiative with the men. He wanted a promotion and during a private coaching session, he vowed to show why he deserved it. Since then, he’d been taking on more responsibility. The others liked him and when they followed him, it came naturally. He’s doing it right.

  Flying Office Corey Parks, the youngest member of the team, added his two cents. “Scans are showing they’ve got some decent weapons, sir. If I may suggest, we should pro
bably double our shield output. Even a graze from their energy weapons might be enough to cause some real damage.”

  “You’ll sacrifice speed,” Lieutenant Hal Brown added. He’d been shot down in their last engagement and Dennis had been worrying about his ability to get back into the saddle since. However, he didn’t hesitate to board his ship. The true test would be how he handled combat again. “You might need that maneuverability.”

  “We’ll leave it up to you,” Dennis said. “We might even need to make it variable. Just keep alert and do your jobs.” He paused, checking the scanner. The way he interpreted the enemy course made him frown. “They seem to be heading straight for our shuttles. Three through six, break and engage their flank. Two and I will join you shortly.”

  The rest of the wing left the shuttles and rocketed off to attack. Dennis got on the com with the transport pilots, “How close are you guys to deploying your people? We’ve got serious incoming and they want a piece of you.”

  “Thirty seconds,” came the reply. Warrant Officer Jeb Douglas was the pilot in question. He’d been hauling soldiers since long before the Gnosis and was considered one of the most experienced flyers on the ship. “Can you hold them off?”

  “I’ve sent four ships to harass them and if you think you can handle a stray, I’ll head over there too.”

  “Go for it,” Jeb replied. “We’ve got turrets and a bunch of guys who aren’t afraid to use them. I’ll see you topside when you’re all done.”

  “Sounds good.” Dennis changed course. “On my lead, Mustang Two. Let’s get into position and help our guys out.”

  The fight already began some distance away. Beam weapons flashed in the sky, bright flickers that looked like metal catching the sun. Dennis banked, which felt odd considering how much work they’d been doing in space. Much as he enjoyed the wind’s feedback, it wasn’t something he was as accustomed to.