by James Rosone
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Into the War
Rise of the Republic – Book Three
By
James Rosone
***********
Illustration © Tom Edwards
Tom EdwardsDesign.com
Manuscript Copyright Notice
©2020, James Rosone in conjunction with Front Line Publishing, Inc. Except as provided by the Copyright Act, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher.
Table of Contents
Chapter One: Planetfall
Chapter Two: Sector Five
Chapter Three: Task Force Intus
Chapter Four: New Allies
Chapter Five: War of Consequences
Chapter Six: Task Force 92
Chapter Seven: Changes at Home
Chapter Eight: Planet Hopping
Chapter Nine: Kita Shipyard
Chapter Ten: Train Like You Fight
Chapter Eleven: Task Force Rass
Chapter Twelve: Battle Over Rass
Chapter Thirteen; Galactic Empire Council
Chapter Fourteen: New Orders
Chapter Fifteen: Grand Army of the Republic
Chapter Sixteen: A Date with Destiny
Chapter Seventeen: Fleet Operations
Chapter Eighteen: The NAS
Chapter Nineteen: Rangers Lead the Way
Chapter Twenty: Behind Enemy Lines
Chapter Twenty-One: An Emperor’s Mission
Chapter Twenty-Two: Rise of the Republic
Chapter Twenty-Three: Recon Prep
From the Authors
Abbreviation Key
Chapter One
Planetfall
Near Planet Intus
RNS Midway
Alpha Company 1st Battalion, 3rd Delta Group
Captain Bryan Royce stilled his mind and steeled his resolve. After nearly two months in transit and training nonstop on the Midway, the first human soldiers were about to land on the planet Intus, a world that had once been a Primord colony, now controlled by the Zodarks.
The Prims had tried to take it back several times unsuccessfully. When the humans had joined the Altairians’ Galactic Empire, the GE had assigned the Earthers to work with the Prims to retake the planet. As their first real military campaign with their new allies, it was a test to see how well humans could work within the coalition and be a viable partner.
Royce stood in front of his company of ninety Deltas and one hundred and seventy combat Synths. “This is a hot drop, everyone,” he began, his voice booming. “When the ship drops out of FTL, they’re going to burn to get us in orbit—that’s when they’ll release our Ospreys. Accompanying us will be a single squadron of F-97 Orions. They’ll be with us until we HALO, then they’ll escort the Ospreys back to the Midway.
“Once the Ospreys get us within thirty thousand meters of the surface, we’ll free-fall from there. This’ll be our first HALO jump onto a hostile planet and our first jump as a combined human and Synth fighting force. Everyone needs to stay sharp, heads on a swivel.”
The Deltas nodded, listening intently.
“I don’t think the Zodarks have weapons capable of targeting us individually during our drop, but that doesn’t mean they won’t try,” Royce continued. “Platoon leaders and sergeants, it’s imperative that once we get on the ground, you move to hit your primary objectives ASAP.”
Royce then turned to 001, affectionately called Adam. “Once we’re on the ground and identify their defenses, I need your squads to stand by to assault the ion cannon. Is that understood?” he asked. Adam was the C100 designated to be the overall leader for the combat Synths assigned to his unit. The one hundred and seventy C100s were broken down into squads intermixed with Royce’s four platoons.
The Deltas had found that the best use for the C100s was direct assaults. The Synths weren’t the best at scouting and surveillance like trained Deltas, but they were beasts when it came to direct-action missions. So, the Deltas were more than happy to find the Synths targets to attack and stand out of their way.
“Understood, Captain Royce,” replied Adam emotionlessly, the single blue light where eyes would normally be tracking from right to left.
Royce turned back to the rest of his company. “Once the Midway recovers our drop crafts, they’ll pull out of orbit and join the rest of the fleet in battling the Zodarks. Remember, once those ion cannons on the surface are taken out, that’s when the fleet will send in the rest of the orbital assault ships and disembark the Republic Army soldiers. There’s a full division of RASs coming in the first wave, but we need to take those planetary defenses out first. Hooah!”
“Hooah!” shouted the Special Forces operators. They were just as eager as he was to get this show on the road.
“Everyone, form up on the flight deck in sixty mikes,” Royce ordered. “We’ll load up and be ready to deploy as soon as the Midway drops out of FTL. Is that clear?”
“Hooah!” came the single-word reply to his question.
The Deltas filed out of the briefing room to their individual platoon rooms to finish getting ready for the mission and packing a few last-minute items. Mostly, they needed to make sure they had enough extra power packs and ammo for their rifles. Should they get cut off from the rest of the fleet, they had to make sure they could hold out on their own for a little while.
Royce inventoried his own patrol pack one final time. He had extra food in there, along with two water purification pods. He’d never liked the idea of relying on just one purification pod—if it somehow got damaged, he’d be out of luck. A person could live without food for a while, but not water. Next to ammo, it was the most important thing to pack.
Hearing some hooting and hollering, Royce cinched his patrol pack shut, draped it over his shoulder, and headed out of the supply room to the hangar. The soldiers were already filing into the sixteen Ospreys and twenty dropships anchored on the sides of the Midway.
Fortunately for Royce’s company, they had drawn the short stick to HALO onto the planet as opposed to being dropped closer to the target via the dropships. Technically, his company had the more dangerous job, but they were also less likely to get blown out of the sky by a lucky hit to a dropship. The downside to his units having to HALO in was where they were landing. The ion cannon was heavily fortified, but one section was left partially exposed. That section butted up against a heavily wooded area that offered no optimal landing zones. Hence, the HALO insertion.
As Royce climbed into the back of one of the Ospreys, he watched the row of soldiers and Synths strap themselves in. He couldn’t see their eyes or faces—not with their helmets on—but he knew his human soldiers were nervous. The C100s never showed any emotions; they were ready to execute orders, whatever those orders might be, regardless of the consequences.
This was a unique mission for the Earthers—a lot different from their past missions. This wasn’t a mining colony on some faraway planet they were trying to capture. This was a Zodark-controlled world: one with a substantial military force on it.
Gazing at the timer in his HUD, Royce anticipated the Midway was about to drop out of FTL. It wouldn’t be long now until their Osprey began its journey to the surface—assuming their ship didn’t get blown up before they got into orbit.
“Captain Royce, prepare to launch,” came a voice from the flight operations control deck of the Midway.
“Stand by, people,” Royce told his soldiers. “We’re dropping out of FTL any minute now.” He hoped his other lieutenants were doing all right, keeping their men and
women pumped and ready for action.
“Midway is dropping out of FTL…now,” the woman’s voice from flight operations told Royce.
Moments later, the main thruster came online and the Midway lurched a bit, doing its best to get into a high orbit over the planet before they unloaded their human cargo.
The minutes continued to tick by. The rest of the soldiers crammed into their shuttles and dropships, waiting for the final go order. Suddenly, the Midway shook. Then Royce felt the ship change course a couple of times, probably dodging something.
It felt like time stopped as they waited to launch. The Midway shook a few more times. At one point, it felt like a sledgehammer hit the ship, the way it jolted everyone. All Royce and the other soldiers could do was sit tight and wait, hoping the fleeters could get them in position so they could execute their part of the mission.
“Stand by for launch,” one of the pilots said over their platoon coms.
Royce gripped his straps, then felt a sudden jolt as the Osprey catapulted out of the Midway into the blackness of space.
“Hang on. It may get a bit bumpy,” the pilot said, tension in his voice.
Royce patched his HUD into the cockpit so he could see the same view as the pilots. This was an option typically only available to the platoon or company commanders. What Royce saw made him wish he’d stayed ignorant of what was going on around him.
The blackness of space quickly filled with the image of this lush green-and-blue planet—but all around that beautiful planet were bright flashes of red and blue light arcing through the area around their Osprey. The pilots were doing their best to deftly dodge the incoming fire and the enemy fighters rising up from the planet to meet them.
One of the pilots pointed to something down on the planet. A second later, Royce saw a bright bolt of light emerge from where the pilot had been pointing as the energy burst headed in the direction of the Midway.
Those must be the ion cannons we’re supposed to take out, Royce realized.
Switching to a different video feed, Royce caught a glimpse of the Midway. The ship accelerated out of orbit now that it had dropped its human cargo. It looked to be taking a pounding from the ion cannon located on the planet’s surface.
From what Royce could see, the dropships were descending rapidly towards the surface. The F-97 Orion starfighters had the Zodark fighters fully occupied, which was a good thing as far as he was concerned.
Returning to the view the pilots had, Royce saw a small Zodark corvette get blown apart maybe fifty thousand kilometers to their right. A Prim destroyer had pounded it with a handful of lasers, cutting it apart.
Then what looked like a lightning bolt shot out from the planet below and slammed into the Prim destroyer, ripping a huge gash in it. The allied destroyer tried to angle away from the planetary ion cannon.
The Osprey suddenly broke through the upper atmosphere, and Royce’s heart skipped a beat. Small ships or fighters materialized out of the clouds, sending blazing energy beams right at them. The pilots flying the Osprey made a series of wild twists and turns as they ducked and dodged the incoming fire. The Orion starfighters flying escort duty dove into the enemy formations, their guns blazing.
“We’re sixty seconds out from jump altitude. Prepare to get the hell out of here,” the pilot yelled urgently over the radio.
Royce observed his company in the back of the craft. They were all holding on to something tightly or gripping their rifle like someone was trying to take it away from them. He could tell they were scared, and rightly so. The world around them was lighting up with laser fire, and all they could do was sit tight and wait to either jump or get blown up.
The crew chief stood near the rear ramp of the bird, his magnetic boots holding him in place as he lowered the ramp. They were finally near the jump location.
As the pilots approached the drop zone, the Osprey, which had been in a near-constant dive, pulled up hard. Everyone in the back grabbed for something to hold on to as they fought against the sudden change in g-forces from the maneuver.
The Osprey leveled out seconds later, and the pilots switched the jump light from red to green. “Get the hell out of the bird!” the crew chief roared at them.
“Time to go!” yelled Royce over the platoon net.
With no hesitation, he stood up and launched himself without fear into the wide-open air. As he fell away from the Osprey, he craned his neck around and saw the rest of his platoon doing the same. They were emptying out of the rear of the bird with disciplined speed.
Royce pulled his arms in tight and straightened his legs, making himself as aerodynamic as possible. His HUD told him he was picking up speed as he ticked down the altitude at an alarming rate.
Turning to catch one last glance behind him, Royce watched the Osprey angle practically straight up to head back into space and get out of there. He then saw an Orion starfighter blow two enemy fighters out of the sky, moments before that same fighter exploded from a direct hit by a third enemy aircraft. The starfighters were doing their best to cover the assault force while the Ospreys bugged out of the area and back to the Midway.
Returning his gaze to what was happening in front of him, Royce saw he was about to enter a cloud bank that had been obscuring his view of the surface. As his body raced through the clouds, moisture droplets pelted him and misted up the view through his face shield. A few minutes later, he was out of the cloud cover and saw the lush green tropical ground below getting much closer. Checking his HUD, Royce saw he was one minute away from his parachute automatically opening. He’d be on the ground in two minutes.
Off in the distance to his right, the giant ion cannon fired off another laser-like bolt, sending another ball of energy into orbit at one of the fleeters’ ships.
Royce reviewed his blue force tracker; all but one of his soldiers were showing green. The one soldier showing red had apparently been shot by an enemy fighter on the way down. Royce felt relieved he had only lost one Delta. He had known there might be enemy fighters in the area, but he really had no idea how many.
“Preparing to deploy the parachute,” an automated voice told him, moments before the chute attached to the rear of his exoskeleton combat suit opened. The steering cords dropped down for him to grab. Royce latched onto them quickly and angled his glidepath to a thinner section of the trees identified in their mission brief.
As he approached the ground, Royce scanned his surroundings. The trees appeared similar to palm trees on Earth. Ferns covered the soil, intermixed with other bushes and smaller trees. As he came closer to the ground, Royce realized the trees were taller than he’d expected.
Nearing the surface, Royce released his drop bag so it hung below his feet. He pulled down hard on his parachute cords, causing the chute to grab as much air as possible in a last-second maneuver to slow him down. As he came to the tree cover, he detached his chute, just like he had done a hundred times before in the simulators. His body free-fell into the trees. As his HUD alerted him he was near the ground, the small rockets built into the sides of his boots ignited, slowing his descent. Seconds later, his feet touched down on his third alien planet in five years.
With his feet firmly on the ground, Captain Royce released his rifle from his chest rig and followed his drop cord to his patrol pack. With his rifle and patrol pack ready, he looked around for the rest of his platoon.
Using his HUD, Royce got a quick view of the situation. All around him, his Deltas landed and prepared themselves and their equipment for action. He saw on the blue force tracker his squad leaders forming them up as the platoon sergeant got them ready to move.
Captain Royce linked up with the lieutenant, who was ready to roll as well. “Lieutenant, let’s move,” Royce said.
Just then, his first sergeant trotted up to him with the company comms specialist. The RTO was their direct link to the Midway and the fleet above them. He was followed behind by Royce’s first sergeant.
“Captain, we lost one soldier
in the drop,” the first sergeant confirmed. “The other platoons are on the ground and moving to their objectives.”
“Thanks, Top. Let’s get moving,” Royce replied. “We’re racing against the clock now to get those guns taken offline.”
Lieutenant Karen Williams barked to her platoon, “First Squad, get us eyes on that cannon. Third and fourth squads, get those terminators ready to attack once we find them some targets. Second squad, deploy our drones, and let’s move.”
Williams was a new addition to Royce’s company, fresh from Delta school back on Earth—part of the new replacement crop intended to transition the C100s to a support position with the Deltas. The Special Forces community was still playing catch-up after the battles in the Rhea system—and it didn’t help that the Altairians had demanded they triple their forces in a short timeframe, either. The combat Synths were filling the gap, but no one liked the idea of running independent Synth units. The Earthers still didn’t fully trust autonomous AI units.
As the platoon and company level drones deployed, their radar and lidar waves sent detailed pictures of the area around them. The place was thick with vegetation and animals, and the terrain had some slight rises in elevation. In short order, the drones would expand the perimeter. As the other platoons’ drones linked up with each other, it would provide Royce with a comprehensive view of the entire area.
First Squad took off at a quick trot to the ion cannon, their HUDs guiding them. As the Special Forces soldiers moved forward, the operators let the drones scout ahead to identify any potential adversaries or obstacles as they advanced. Steadily, the platoon of Deltas advanced toward the enemy base ten kilometers away.
“Able Six, Archer Actual. How copy?” came the call over the battalion net.
Royce ducked under a low-hanging branch as he tried to keep up with everyone. Using his neurolink, he connected to his radio. “Archer Actual, Able Six. Send it.”
Suddenly a weird monkey-like animal jumped from one tall tree to another in front of Royce. What the hell was that?