Planet Fall
To rescue one man…
The Royal Alliance reels in shock as the United Worker’s Legion spreads across industrial worlds, seemingly unstoppable. As ever more planets fall before the Legion’s expanding military machine, Alliance citizens are trapped behind enemy lines — including powerful business mogul and weapons manufacturer Archibald Cross. If Cross is killed or captured, the true extent of the Legion’s might will go public, and panic will surely ensue. But how can the Alliance respond without alerting the dreaded Milipa Empire to its internal weakness, tipping the balance of power?
The Alliance will risk thousands…
In a desperate gamble, the Alliance assembles a crack strike force in secret to rescue Cross. The plan is simple enough: secure a series of bridges and a spaceport. With some of the most elite troops the Alliance has to offer, the landing force is confident, ready to deal the Legion a devastating blow and turn the tide of war against them.
And fan the flames of civil war.
But the Legion is more than a motley crew of disgruntled workers. Almost as soon as it begins, the Alliance rescue mission unravels into a savage fight for survival. Will the landing force save Cross and escape or face the bloody end their enemy has planned for them?
Excerpt
Captain Jordan Duncan
Bridge of RAS Hercules
“Action stations, all hands to action stations.” Daryl’s voice was barely audible over the bridge’s klaxons.
Fifty-two to five.
How the hell was he going to do this?
Captain Duncan keyed in several commands. How would the enemy react? Once the Alliance ships fired their engines and pulled clear of the moon, the Legion vessels would have five to six minutes to react. The enemy fleet was still spread out and twenty of them, mainly cruisers, were powered down. What he couldn’t tell was how well armed they were until either the drones got closer or those shit-heads opened fire.
He didn’t have many ships to play with. They had to defend the landers as well as the Hercules once she was in low orbit.
The first thing he’d learned in training was to never engage a better-armed opponent from low orbit. The gravity of the planet boosted the kinetic energy of incoming ordnance, making them hit harder and nullifying defensive systems. The defenders weapons had to fight gravity, slowing them down and making them easier to deflect. As if that wasn’t bad enough, every green cadet knew that a ship farther down in a planet’s gravity bowl had a bear of a time maneuvering.
All-in-all, the low orbit needed to drop his payload was the worst place he could be in this kind of situation.
Duncan had no room for error. “Helm, flank speed. Launch fighters and drones.”
He sent the commands through to the escorts, which began to accelerate at a steep angle, the Montalban at the tip of a diamond formation. The Hercules was tucked in the center, allowing the faster, more maneuverable escorts to screen her.
The Hercules rocked as the Cerberus fighters and combat drones fired clear of her hull. Duncan watched the first enemy ships start to move, surging towards the tight Alliance formation. The Tupu and Simcoe began to fire at maximum range. The enemy ships broke formation, moving out of the way of the destroyers’ barrage.
Duncan almost laughed. These idiots were more inexperienced than he thought. Completely uncoordinated, each acting independently. More than half were still not online. The more of these fucks he could kill while they were still dark, the easier it would be to disembark the troops.
Thank God for idiots.
Duncan used his finger to trace in attack trajectories for the drones on his console. He ordered the Horizon and Montalban to begin firing. If the nearest enemy ships just changed course, he’d have them dead to rights.
The two fleets were still several minutes out from reaching effective firing range, but the overexcited Legion ships were shooting full force, their shells detonating harmlessly as the defensive systems responded. Duncan angled his ships up slightly, exposing the formation’s dorsal side.
The harmless fire from the Horizon and Montalban worked. The Legion forces broke to the side, avoiding the perceived threat. They angled upwards, chasing after the Alliance formation.
The combat drones shifted to fly downwards.
The incoming Legion ships increased speed.
Duncan issued the order for the other ships to steepen the climb. “Helmsman Gordo, slow us five percent. Let these fuckers close the gap.”
He could feel Connelly’s eyes on the back of his neck. He took a deep breath, running the numbers through his head quickly. He plugged in his calculations, letting Daryl run it through several simulations. This had to be timed perfectly before the dispersed enemy formed a single formation.
Duncan shifted in his chair.
The drones had cleared the trailing edge of the Legion’s frantic mob. His eyes didn’t waver from the timer icon, the seconds stretching one into another. For this maneuver to work they could’t wait much longer.
The icon went green.
He sent the commands through to the other ships.
Fifty seconds.
The first of the drones turned sharply upwards. Their engines fired, hitting full power. They separated into five formations of twenty drones, each in columns of two. The first formation arched sharply, aiming directly at five of the nearest, cruisers, which were slowly powering up.
Fifteen seconds.
The drones opened fire at point-blank range. Their torpedoes and five-inch shells shredded the ships’ thin armor. The drones tore past their targets, rotating for maximum time on target. One of the cruisers imploded while another buckled, flames pouring from cracks in its center. The final three took countless hits, vibrating as secondary explosions and chunks of armor plating flew into space.
Duncan smacked the arm of his chair.
Cheering filled the room.
Based on the readings the drones were transmitting, none of those ships would be capable of fighting. They were drifting, their partially heated power plants no longer functioning.
He tore his eyes from the drones. “Helm, initiate Maneuver 73-2.”
The Hercules banked, metal straining as the engines fired, turning her mass away from the planet. The enemy tried to match their maneuvers, increasing speed to catch up. The Legion ships aimed right at the re-exposed dorsal sections of the Alliance formation.
At the last second, Duncan’s ships reversed, rotating their main weapons towards the nearest enemy ships. The Legion destroyers tore by, weapons firing in front of the breaking Alliance warships.
Duncan hit his headset. “Fire at will.”
Hercules shook several times as the main guns fired in rapid succession. Four Legion ships burst as shape charges ripped into their sides, several more taking serious damage as they ran full speed into the debris field.
Duncan’s formation blasted back to full speed. His stomach turned, his body pressed into the chair as the Hercules swung back towards New Utica.
Eight more of the enemy ships were on fire from the drones’ continued attacks. Two more vessels split apart, atmosphere dispersing in waves from their broken hulks. Unfortunately, the enemy’s shock had worn off, and they had begun firing. Several drones were showing catastrophic damage, falling out of formation.
Combat drones were capable craft but relied on nearby friendly ships to draw enemy fire. The Royal Navy was built to fight defensive battles, draw the enemy to the waiting lasers of the capital ships.
A wave of surviving destroyers had come together, braking hard. They were banking, their trajectory indicating his detachment was their target. At these speeds, they had about five minutes before they would make contact again.
Assuming they held off the ships the drones hadn’t shredded.
Duncan watched the first of the cruisers turn towards them, its guns actively tracking and firing at the shrinking drone formations. He plotted several courses, watching the simulations play out. The computer kept predicting the same result. That many cruisers would overpower them.
He couldn’t trust the computer. His gut told him their inexperience would give him an edge the machine couldn’t predict. The simulations were meant to give him an edge, but they assumed a tactically sound enemy. An enemy aware of their ships’ capabilities.
An enemy like the Milipa.
This speed may give him an advantage. The destroyer captains had acted alone, failing to anticipate the actions of the Alliance formation. If the cruisers followed suit, Duncan would have a chance.
He began writing commands. “Connelly, make preparations for landing.”
“Aye, sir.”
Duncan pushed his orders through, overriding the warnings. “Execute first turn now.”
The Hercules turned left, the Tupu and Simcoe following. They aimed directly at the nearest cruiser, accelerating again. The Cerberus fighters moved to the front of the formation, screening it from enemy fire.
The Montalban and Horizon made directly for the planet on a landing trajectory. The Montalban was almost as old as the Hercules and a good deal larger than a modern cruiser. He hoped they would think she was the second dropship.
The Hercules’s formation turned toward its slowly moving target, which was firing its thrusters, pushing itself to starboard. Its main guns swiveled around, firing accurate salvos towards the Tupu. The Cerberus fighters went to work, turrets firing on the incoming shells.
Detonations signaled their success.
Hercules’s guns fired again. Shells struck the cruiser’s sides, shape charges tearing deep into its armor. The Legion cruiser shook, spinning out of control. The Simcoe’s rounds followed. The cruiser vibrated momentarily before exploding, gasses and fire spitting into space.
Duncan pumped his fist. “Execute 73-3. Fire at will.”
The Hercules turned again, aiming at two, now fully mobile, cruisers. The small number of remaining drones converged on the accelerating enemies. Some of the drones burst as the cruiser’s weapons turned to engage them, but the others fired, slowing their target with the intensity of their barrage.
The Tupu and Simcoe fired simultaneously at the closest ship, the one to starboard, vaporizing it. The Hercules gunners clipped the remaining target’s engines as it turned rapidly down toward the planet.
Damn.
The ship was delisting, but intact. Its cannons returned fire, the close range allowing the shells to slip past the Tupu’s ordinance deflector. The Tupu shuddered, slowed as flames spurted from her engine mounts, though her armor absorbed most of the impact.
Duncan pulled up the Tupu, damage reports spilling across the screen. Based on how the enemy rounds had punched through the Tupu’s armor, it was clear they had penetrator warheads. He hadn’t expected that kind of firepower. The Tupu’s landing and drone bays were damaged, but still functional, and her engine mounts were cracked, limiting her translight capabilities.
A lucky shot for amateurs.
How the fuck had these bastards built so many ships?
The Hercules’ guns spun around, firing. The cruiser took another set of direct hits. The enemy’s armor failed, and the ship’s power plant detonated, debris spraying out in a cloud from the explosion. The Hercules couldn’t afford more hits like that before they entered orbit. Duncan would need as much firepower as possible to ensure his payload landed.
So far, the Legion was falling for his ploy. The majority of their ships were chasing straight after the Montalban and Horizon, while the remaining enemy ships were still several minutes behind. The Alliance ships had taken only superficial damage and were only moments from the planet’s atmosphere.
Time to spring the trap.
Duncan checked his harness. “73-4 now. Connelly all guns move down full.”
The Hercules turned sharply down, lining up behind the cluster of enemy vessels. The Montalban and Horizon entered New Utica’s atmosphere, turning their landing bays to face the surface.
The mass of enemy ships seemed to go crazy, firing without any control or coordination, speeding in and out of each other’s firing arcs. Duncan didn’t know how they weren’t hitting each other.
The taste of blood was in the water.
The atmosphere burned as the two Alliance ships’ defensive weapons filled the air with flak. He didn’t need a computer to tell him it wouldn’t be long before his forces were overwhelmed. The enemy cruisers crossed onto the outer edges of the atmosphere, cutting their engines, turning to maximize their firing angle. They had taken the bait, assumed the Montalban would be dropping troops.
Duncan clapped. “Now. Get our ships out of there.”
He heard the voice of Ensign Ricky relaying his orders to the escorts.
The Alliance ships fired their engines, blasting to full speed, bouncing out of the atmosphere, their main weapons firing across their now stationary targets.
The motionless enemy ships took devastating hits, shells crashing through their armor and engines, chunks of Legion ships igniting as they fell towards the planet’s surface. The Horizon and Montalban settled into a high orbit at a 45-degree angle to Duncan’s formation.
This would be messy.
The Simcoe, Tupu, and Hercules opened fire, guns searing the high atmosphere with combined volleys. They had to do the maximum amount of damage in a short time. The two Alliance formations had their shocked enemy in a crossfire. Engines were the key. If the Legions ships couldn’t move, they would no longer be a threat. Duncan gripped his armrests, counting down to the next maneuver.
The Hercules shook, cannons firing as quickly as the crews could load them. The distance between him and his enemies was shrinking as quickly as the element of surprise was fading. The computer indicated thirteen of the enemy ships destroyed or disabled. The rest were breaking in all directions, engines straining against the atmosphere, only a few remembering to return fire on their Alliance attackers.
Duncan doubled-checked the final command before sending it through. The Hercules hit the top layer of the atmosphere, bouncing as she pulled her nose up. The violent vibrations spun Duncan’s head as his ship approached the drop zone, her flight path flattening out.
He let go of the armrest, keying his microphone on. “Captain Duncan to drop bay. Launch all landers and drop pods.”
It wouldn’t take long before the enemy regrouped. His escort ships had settled in above him, turning their weapons to cover him. Duncan switched screens. He needed to get the ground team as much data as possible, then search for the best way to escape the system alive.
Duncan typed in additional commands, repositioning the sensor drones into a lower orbit, directing their scanners towards the surface.
Duncan’s forces had done their part, gotten the ground forces safely to the drop zone. He was determined to give Polis’s force the best shot at doing theirs.
Showing these bastards what true soldiers did to traitors.