Lost Systems: Legacy War Book 2

by John Walker

  We’ll have to do more atmospheric training. Kicking in the afterburners, the sound erupted around him like an explosion and he was pressed into his seat momentarily before the inertial dampeners fought against the sudden thrust. “We’ll be there in fifteen seconds,” he announced to the rest of the wing. “Approaching from your southwest.”

  “Affirmative,” Hal replied. “Watch your four o’clock, Five!”

  Mustang Five, Flying Officer Alicia Quinn, performed a barrel roll and dove, heading straight for a rock formation. She pulled up and engaged the afterburners, rocketing away from a pursuing enemy who couldn’t seem to keep up. It looked like a close call to Dennis, but he didn’t want to distract the woman at that moment.

  We’ll be talking about that one in a debriefing.

  The few seconds it took to close the distance, Dennis watched the enemy fighters pull off some ridiculous maneuvers. One pulled a suddenly climb and flipped, racing off away from what should’ve been an easy kill by Mustang Four. Another went into a triple barrel roll, dropping down to below a thousand feet above the ground before hitting afterburners and dashing away.

  Dennis focused on an enemy that was trying desperately to get a firing solution on Hal. It writhed about in the air, acting as if none of the tight moves bothered the pilot at all. Maybe their inertial dampeners are just that good. His computer began to beep as it attempted to acquire the target but there wasn’t enough time to get solid tone.

  He needed to warn the guy off, buy Hal some room. Pulling the trigger, he went for guns, launching a volley of metal. The shots came within feet of hitting his target but even with the miss, it made the ship break off its relentless motion. Oddly, it never fired at Hal but seemed to be waiting for the perfect shot.

  They want one shot kills … or they have a limitation. Maybe all that fancy flying cuts into their ability to shoot their beam weapons.

  Dennis wanted to scan them for more info, but a proximity light burst on to his right. He dove, increasing the throttle as one of the enemies blasted away at where he’d just been. It would’ve been a direct hit and he only got away because they got too close. Do their weapons have an effective range?

  The question helped him calm his nerves and he looked all about, checking for additional dangers. As he engaged in the action a second time, he saw Shane hammer a target with energy weapons, a direct hit to the rear. The curve of shields became obvious in the attack and seemed to shatter like glass.

  A follow up with guns tore through the engines and they went dark. The fighter plunged toward the surface, but the pilot ejected. His pod launched a good twenty feet from the downed vessel before a chute deployed. A quick calculation put his landing at nearly five miles from his base of operations.

  If the briefing about the locals was to be believed, then ejecting was only a temporary salvation. Dennis considered the plight because he’d been thinking about it for his own people. If anyone survived a direct hit and went down, they’d be in for a world of hurt. Marines would have to risk their lives to save them.

  Mustang Five launched a missile and the enemy banked hard, allowing it to fly off until it seemed to grab a new target. As it curved, it became obvious it was going for Mustang Three. Once it zeroed in on the ally ship, the friend or foe indicator kicked in and it flew aimlessly for a good five seconds before dropping from the sky.

  The AI decided to let it go rather than risk a mishap.

  “Careful with missiles,” Dennis called. “These guys are way too maneuverable to make them effective. Stick to beams and guns.” He banked to the left, avoiding an attack then immediately had to go back to the right. The quick motions jostled him about and even with the dampeners, he felt it in his bones.

  Firing his rockets, he got a glimpse of an enemy ahead of him and took a shot with energy blasts. They struck the top of his target but didn’t go through the shields. I need to be able to sustain those! His opponent seemed to go crazy, flipping and diving as if the pilot literally just swung the stick around randomly.

  If we tried that nonsense, we’d be dead. How are they able to survive these moves?

  “Got one,” Alicia announced. “All that flying couldn’t help him when he got too low.”

  Glancing at his scanner, Dennis noticed that Alicia had gone down near the mountains and lured in an opponent. She somehow got him to crash into the rocks and was on her way back to join them. He scowled, returning to Shane’s side before calling out to the team. “Do not abandon your wingmen. We need the backup.”

  “It’s kind of hard,” Shane replied. “Considering how these guys fly.”

  “I know, flexibility is important.” Dennis’s eyes widened as two ships came around up ahead. They want to play chicken? Fire or dodge? He didn’t have time to decide, pulling the trigger before banking away from Shane. His attack might’ve hit, he had no idea but the wake of the ships as they rushed past him caused the frame of his craft to rattle.

  Dennis spun toward the two enemies, wincing at the pressure it put his body through. He found himself staring at their tails and as Shane came around beside him, he figured they had a good chance to splash two more. Considering the way the targets flew, he didn’t have time to worry about closing too much.

  “Light them up,” Dennis said. “Don’t hold back.”

  Pulling the trigger, he felt his ship vibrate for a brief second before the beams burst out. The first ship pulled away and avoided the attack but the second one went the wrong way. Shane anticipated his motion, catching the top of his target. The shields must’ve been weaker there because he cut right through.

  A crack appeared and the enemy burst in half. Engines went one way while the cockpit went another. They spun a good half mile before the power core exploded.

  Dennis checked and noted they were down to three enemies. The other five would be on them in the next two minutes. They needed to pick up the pace if they wanted to keep the odds even. Even as he considered it, Lieutenant Kate Zeller, Mustang Four, called out a Mayday. Damn it!

  “I’ve been hit,” Kate said. “Engine one is down. I’ve still got two.”

  “Get out of there,” Dennis called. “Can you make orbit?”

  “Maybe … I’ll definitely try.”

  “Go! Quick! Get out of here!” Dennis wondered if he needed to send an escort with her, but he couldn’t afford to lose numbers. As her ship burst out of the melee and flew off, he was grateful to see the few remaining enemies didn’t decide to pursue her. There weren’t enough of them anyway. They might think it’s a ruse to get their backs to us.

  Corey took a direct hit and a hexagonal pattern appeared briefly before the shields faded back to near invisibility. Dennis spared the younger pilot a good look, noting with relief he’d made it seemingly unscathed.

  Corey dove and his pursuer gave chase. Alicia called out she was moving to engage but as she did, Corey banked hard to the left, a tight maneuver that must’ve crushed him into his seat. The enemy flew past, shaken free. Dennis went into evasive action and lost sight of the conflict for a moment.

  When he leveled out, he saw Corey scream in behind his target, discharging a volley of beams and mass driver shots. A direct hit caused the enemy’s engines to smoke and they broke toward the ground. A moment later, it impacted with the surface, a dust plume bursting some thirty feet in the air.

  “I told you guys,” Corey said. “Double shields.”

  “Consider us sold,” Dennis replied. “Hm. Check out the scans. Looks like our last two bogies are heading back toward their allies.”

  “Should we pursue?” Shane asked. “They’re going to stack the odds against us if we don’t.”

  Dennis took a moment to consider the situation. He didn’t like the idea of shooting someone who was fleeing the scene. It didn’t seem like the honorable thing to do. Airmen from Earth’s distant past relied on that unspoken trust between one another, a sense of fair play. However, this situation felt considerably different than those days.
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br />   So far from home, fighting a group which had never heard of their rules of engagement, Dennis realized they needed to fight differently. He may not have liked it, but it didn’t matter. They needed to keep their allies on the ground alive and that meant maintaining air superiority at all costs.

  “Pursue and engage,” Dennis called to the others. “When you have a shot, take it. If we knock those two down, we keep even odds.” His shields showed down to seventy percent, a surprising figure. I must’ve taken a grazing shot or two. Maybe during some of those crazier maneuvers when it wouldn’t have been as easy to notice the hit.

  Automated repair might get them back to full strength but either way it wouldn’t slow him down. Dumping more power into the defenses nudged them up to eighty. A direct hit might cause a real problem but providing he was remotely cautious, he wouldn’t have to find out what lurked on the planet’s surface.

  The Pahxin marked the planet forbidden. Dennis had no desire to see why first hand.

  ***

  Heat plunged toward the ground with the others all around him. Each one was roughly thirty yards away, giving them a decent spread. It helped to spread out, making it harder to do significant damage to several of them at once. Small bursts from their jump packs gave them distance after they left the shuttle.

  His HUD indicated all systems were online and ready to go. When they were on Earth, one of the tech guys told him they’d developed a prototype for personal shields and were testing it out. They didn’t expect it to be available for a while but with a second Orb at their disposal, they might be able to step up a delivery date.

  Considering what they experienced when fighting the Pahxin before, he looked forward to the extra little bit of defense. Their armor provided enough boosted strength to handle the additional weight. The real clinch in the plan involved heat dispersal and ensuring they wouldn’t get cooked inside their armor.

  Heat’s altimeter showed he was only two hundred feet to landing. The facility they were after, another one built into a mountain, stretched out not even a mile to the north. A courtyard seemed surprisingly clear of debris but the old buildings that used to occupy the space were mostly flattened.

  He engaged his rockets to slow his descent, putting down just behind a section of rocks. Other flares from his squad ignited around him as they came to rest at various points around the target area. Letting his weapon lead the way, he stepped out and checked the perimeter, his scans showing no enemy contacts.

  I don’t trust that, Heat thought. There’s no way someone’s not around here. Could they possibly be blocking our signals?

  As if reading his thoughts, Gorman expressed the same concern.

  “Contact the ship,” Heat said. “Find out what’s possible.”

  Gorman kept him on the line as he established a link. “Agent Alexander, this is the ground force. We’re running a scan but aren’t picking up any contacts down here. Can you confirm? Are we experiencing a malfunction?”

  A moment later, Cassie’s voice replied, “I’m not picking up anything either. This might be from the atmospheric interference. I’m having Gil check. Please stand by.”

  “Begging your pardon,” Heat said, “but we really don’t have much time. We need to move. The briefing suggested there were a lot of these weird mutants running around down here.”

  “Understood,” Cassie hummed. “I’m picking up the enemy fighters so I’d cautiously advance if I were you. I doubt they have anything capable of blocking scans … but we have seen stranger things.”

  Damn right, Heat thought. “Alright, men. Let’s move out. Keep it tight and frosty. God knows what we might find down here. Don’t rely on scans alone, use your eyes. Providing these pricks aren’t invisible, we should be able to rely on vision.”

  Heat led the way, stepping out from behind his cover and using his jump pack to hop up a small hill. As he landed, he was able to walk forward over some even terrain. Gorman took his right with Sergeant Alex Gillet on the left. They cast their gaze in all directions, watching for enemy contact.

  They were nearly halfway there when things began to feel entirely too easy. Are these things hiding out inside the base? The thought made Heat curse inwardly. Power armor was best when used at range. Close quarters worked but they couldn’t engage their rockets nor use the heavier ordnance.

  “Anyone else have not feeling good about this?” Gorman asked.

  “What’s not to like?” Gillet asked. “We’re walking right up there. No one’s shooting at us. Do you have to be a killjoy?”

  Private First Class Kelly chuckled but he sounded nervous. “I’m pretty sure you just jinxed us, Sarge.”

  “Nah,” Gillet said. “When the attack comes, that’s where it’s supposed to happen. I don’t plan for the violence. I just assume it’s going to happen.”

  As if on cue, a blue beam cut through the air directly in front of Heat, pulverizing a rock to his right. He glanced in the direction of the attack, noting his scans didn’t pick up anything. Sure enough, there were people up there aiming weapons down on his squad. “Contact west!” He shouted. “Engage!”

  Weapons discharged from various directions as the marines moved for cover. Whatever weapons their enemies used made a buzz sound as it approached, turning the air to steam. When a blast hit the ground, it looked like a landmine went off. An unnecessary scan indicated one shot would be enough to penetrate the power armor.

  Thank you, computer. Heat crouched below a rock, wondering whether or not it would be sufficient to stop one of those attacks from getting through to him. Gorman fired a rocket that flew overhead and Heat risked a quick glance to see the results. The shot connected with the cliff near the ambushers, causing the wall to crack and crumble.

  It drove their opponents back, giving the marines a moment to regroup.

  “We need to hit them hard,” Private Dorian called out. “Permission to jump up there with Kelly.”

  Heat shook his head. “No, that’s not the objective. I want them gone too but we need to use this time to get into the facility. The faster we get the data, the quicker we go home. If we get into some protracted gunfight, everyone suffers. Air support, shuttles, Gnosis … no, we gotta move. So go! Double time to the objective!”

  They burst from their respective covers and used their jump jets to cover great distances. Heat entered the open courtyard and worry gnawed at him. Only the doorway leading into the facility seemed to be standing. A flight of stone stairs led up to it, making the place feel more like a grand temple than a tech center.

  Maybe this was more of a religious type library for the people living here before. Heat was nearly there when he took a moment to look around. If his assumption was correct, the indigenous lifeforms might’ve still considered it to be sacred. Any additional attacks might be more brutal than the small ambush they faced.

  “Contact north,” Gorman called. “Not the freaks this time … looks like some of our friends from the station, Heat.”

  Heat focused on the stairs and saw five men leaning out with firearms. They were dressed much as their pursuers on the station but with strange masks as well. No additional protection. One of them took a shot and grazed Heat’s armor, barely scratching the surface. It would take a direct hit to even annoy one of the marines.

  “Open fire.” Heat took aim and shot his attacker, knocking him back a good two feet before he dropped to the ground. The others took cover in the hallway, hiding on either side of the open doorway. Just as the marines opened up, they heard shouts from all around them, the cries of innumerable voices. “Ah, shit.”

  Dozens of the local populace came dashing at them from behind, screaming incoherently as they approached. The marines were nearly to the facility but even as they approached, weapon-fire pounded the ground around them. Only twenty feet to go! Heat thought. “Move, guys! Move!”

  They jumped through the doorway, taking cover as they landed. Private Dorian made it last, sailing through the air seemingly in slow m
otion. A blast caught him in the back and he tumbled, sliding on the ground a good distance before sliding to a halt. He didn’t move but no one had time to check on him.

  The aliens hiding in the facility turned on the marines and opened fire.

  Are you kidding me?! Heat blasted two of them himself and Gorman finished the last one off. They pressed against the door and watched as their bigger problem continued swarming toward them. Now that he had a moment, Heat saw they were indeed massive brutes, probably standing a good eight feet tall.

  Their broad, muscles shoulders wore bone armor and they carried massive energy cannons as easily as one of the marines might a sidearm.

  “We can’t handle all those,” Gorman said. “What’s the play?”

  Heat got on the com and connected with Mustang One. “We are in desperate need of some air support at the facility coordinates.” He nodded to Gorman to open fire. The other marines started lighting up their charging opponents. “Like pretty much now … and if you can’t get here then send someone else. We’re facing an army!”

  “Understood,” Dennis replied. “Getting someone there now. Hang tight. We’re about thirty seconds out.”

  Great. “Thirty seconds!” Heat shouted. “Gorman, get your ass down this tunnel and grab our data. The rest of you kill as many of those massive bastards as you can. None of them gets in here! Don’t hold back. If you have the ordnance, let it fly. Go!”

  Gorman clearly didn’t like his part in the plan but he hurried down the tunnel. Heat noted the man paused briefly to check Dorian before hurrying off. There were no illusions in battle. The boy probably didn’t make it. Those blasts were powerful. They needed to provide the lowest profile targets possible and keep alive until the air support could thin the herd.

  He popped two of the aliens in the head and their bodies dropped, causing others to trip and stumble. At least they die easily enough. Though I suspect they could take a shot to the chest. We might have a chance … but with those numbers? The pilots better get their asses here fast or this is going to be a real short assignment.