by Dietmar Wehr
Return of the Star Raiders
By Dietmar Arthur Wehr
Amazon edition
Copyright 2018 by Non-Linear Visions Inc.
Illustration © Tom Edwards
Tom EdwardsDesign.com
www.dwehrsfwriter.com
Other books by the author (many of these books are also available as audiobooks):
The Synchronicity War Part 1
The Synchronicity War Part 2
The Synchronicity War Part 3
The Synchronicity War Part 4
The Synchronicity War Omnibus edition (complete series) available in Kindle Unlimited
The Retro War (stand alone novel set in the Sync War universe)
Rumors of Glory (The System States Rebellion book 1)
Rumors of Honor (SSR book 2)
Rumors of Salvation (SSR book 3)
The System States Rebellion (complete series) available in Kindle Unlimited
Empire in Crisis
The Last Valkyrie (A stand alone Space Opera novel)
The Thunder of War
The Thunder of Vengeance
The Complete Thunder Series available in Kindle Unlimited
The Tattooed Angel (A tale of the High Avenging Angel)
Scimitar’s Glory (Swordships Odyssey book 1)
Excalibur’s Quest (Swordships Odyssey book 2)
Contents
Other books by the author (many of these books are also available as audiobooks):
Glossary of terms:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three:
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Author’s Comments:
Glossary of terms:
CO – Commanding Officer
XO – Executive Officer
TO – Tactical Officer
HO – Helm Officer
AO – Astrogation Officer
Toroid – a doughnut-shaped object with a hole in the middle.
CM – Collapsed matter
Ecliptic – the space around a star within the orbit of a planet. That space forms a disk that defines ‘above’ from ‘below’ the ecliptic.
Umbra – name for the shadow cast by a celestial object such as a planet.
Chapter One
It started raining during his father’s burial service, but John Christian Strider didn’t notice. Though he was staring at the coffin draped with the National Police Force’s coat of arms, his mind was somewhere else. The memory of the first raid by the so-called Star Wolves was still fresh, as was the sight of his father’s body slumped down in front of the Central Bank entrance, where he had tried to prevent the raiders from breaking into the vault containing the planet’s entire inventory of gold bullion. His father hadn’t been the only one killed. Three other police officers had died defending the bank, and to add insult to injury, all four deaths could have been avoided. When it became clear how outmatched the planet was, the Planetary President had agreed there was no point in resisting, and if John’s father and the others had received instructions to let the raiders do as they pleased, they might still be alive. But they had not gotten the word in time. At least that was the official story. One of his father’s friends had shared his suspicion that John’s father and the others had gotten the order to stand down but had ignored it. Another one of his father’s friends had insisted that the four officers had obeyed the order to lower their weapons, and the Star Wolves had gunned them down just for the hell of it. He didn’t know which version to believe. The official story made him sad. The act of defiance story made him proud, and the cold-blooded murder story made him boiling mad.
As the coffin began to be lowered into the now muddy grave, John looked up at the dark sky. He saw a flash of lightning and counted the seconds until he heard the thunder. The sound resonated in his consciousness, and he found comfort in the display of power that the thunder represented. It was a different world now. The steady climb up from the pre-industrial depths that the planet had experienced as a result of the collapse of the interstellar Federation had been a peaceful but still exciting period. New Caledon had not experienced any wars during the almost two centuries since the last starship had landed there. The technological gains of the last half century had confirmed that the old legends of ships travelling between the stars had been based on fact. Mankind really had originated on another world: Earth, which was spoken of with the same awe as the even older legends of the mythical Atlantis. The Star Wolves raid had ended that period of innocence. The stark reality now was that the galaxy could be a very dangerous place. No one knew where the Star Wolves came from or when they’d be back, but when they did come—as he, John Christian Strider, was absolutely certain they would—he would dedicate his life to defending his family and his planet.
Twenty-one years later:
Captain Strider stepped through the door into the high-security hangar and gasped in amazement at what was inside. To get this peek into the future of planetary defense, he had called in a favor from the General in charge of the X-12 Interceptor project, and his initial impression was that the favor had been well spent. The X-12 was a big beast, completely black and made of titanium. According to rumor, it could accelerate up to three times the speed of sound and climb to the very edge of space. The delta-wing shape, with the four jet engines as integral part of the wings, made the X-12 radically different from any other jet that Strider had flown or seen.
“Take a good look while you can, John. You won’t see this plane again until it becomes operational.”
Strider nodded but, mesmerized by the vision in front of him, didn’t turn around to face the General. “She makes my Raptor look like something designed by cavemen. I don’t see any hard points for missiles. What armament will she carry?”
“Sorry, John. You only called in one favor, and since you don’t have any more to call in, I can’t tell you what the operational version of the X-12 will carry, but I can tell you where it’ll carry it. External ordinance would have generated too much drag for the craft to reach her top speed, so we built her with an internal weapons bay. To deploy, the pilot will open the bay, and the weapon will drop down just far enough so that it won’t hit the craft when it launches.”
Strider smiled. The General had given him enough clues to figure out what the mystery weapon might be. If it had to be launched, then it also had to be a missile and not some kind of rapid-fire cannon. Air-to-air missiles were not new. His Raptor was capable of carrying four radar-guided Cobra missiles, two under each wing. Clearly the X-12 would carry a new kind of missile, and he suspected it was the warhead that would be different.
“I think I can guess what you can’t tell me, General. There are rumors going around that the Zeus Project has managed to develop a low-yield atomic device small enough to put on an AA missile.” This time he did turn around to gauge the General’s response.
The General displayed the familiar
poker face that Strider had seen often enough. “I will neither confirm nor deny your speculation, John. If you want a look inside the cockpit, you’d better do it now. Your favor has a limited shelf life, you know.”
“Okay, General.” Strider walked quickly over to the other side of the craft’s nose where a gantry would allow him to look inside the open cockpit. As he climbed up the gantry steps, he saw that the canopy was not the transparent kind that his Raptor had. Instead, it was made from the same black titanium as the rest of the craft. When he reached the top of the gantry, he knelt down to get as close a look inside as possible. The pilot’s seat and the controls were different from what his Raptor had, but not drastically so. In fact, he was surprised at how little was really new. The engine controls did look more complicated, but that was to be expected given that the X-12 had four jet engines compared to his Raptor’s two. What did surprise him was how small the windshield was. With the canopy down, the pilot would only be able to see what was directly in front of the craft, and it would be a fairly narrow range at that.
As he continued to examine the controls, Strider had the nagging feeling that something was missing. It suddenly came to him.
“There’s no radar screen, General.”
“Ah, you noticed that, did you? The aerodynamic shape of the nose didn’t have enough room for our standard interceptor radar package, and the titanium hull would have interfered with the radar emissions anyway, so the 12s will operate under a different procedure. Interception will be based on instructions from ground control. The pilot will be told what direction and altitude the enemy is and when to fire the mi…weapon. The, ah, weapon will then guide itself to the target.”
Strider smiled at the partial slip of the General’s tongue. A weapon that guides itself to the target had to be a missile. Being unable to operate independently from ground control was a bit disappointing. His Raptor had a limited ability to do that, and the general feeling among interceptor pilots was that the less dependent they were on ground control, the better, but if he had to choose between independence or speed and altitude, he’d take speed and altitude any day of the week. Another thought occurred: what would it be like to bail from a plane travelling at Mach 3. He shuddered involuntarily as he imagined what supersonic wind would do to his head and body in the fraction of a second before his ejection seat thrust him clear of the airframe.
“The seat doesn’t seem to have room for the pilot and a parachute. I think I can figure out why,” he said, looking down at the General.
“You’re thinking about wind sheer at supersonic speeds, right?” asked the General.
“Yes, sir. I think I might almost want to go down with the plane instead of trying to eject at those speeds.” Strider suppressed another shudder.
“Not necessary, John. The ejection system on the X-12 is actually a capsule containing the entire cockpit. Once clear of the plane, the capsule will deploy a drogue parachute to stabilize it, and when it reaches the correct altitude, three large parachutes will deploy. Coming down on land might be a bit rough, but the pilot’s seat has shock absorbers. Landing in water will actually be easier. The capsule is designed to float indefinitely unless you land in conditions with high waves, but even then, the pilot will have the option to abandon the capsule for an inflatable life raft. We’ve tried to think of every contingency considering that interceptions might take place over the ocean.”
“That…is…brilliant,” said Strider slowly. He stood up, took a deep breath and reluctantly climbed down off the gantry.
“How soon will the squadrons get some 12s?”
The General sighed. “Not for a while yet, I’m afraid. This one here is a prototype. It’s performing up to expectations, but it takes about an hour to get this craft ready for flight. That’s way too long if we want to use them to repel an attack from space with maybe as little as five minutes warning. We haven’t tested the capsule ejection system yet either, because doing so will cause the rest of the airframe to crash. There are three more prototypes in the process of being built. Each one will have a different upgrade to one or more systems, and by the end of the testing process, we hope to have a prototype that can be put in the air from a cold start in less than five minutes. Every prototype will also be configured for remote flying so that, at some point, we can test the capsule ejection system without risking a human pilot. When a prototype achieves operational parameters, the design will be frozen, and mass production will begin. I’m just guessing at this point, you understand, but I would be surprised if frontline squadrons get operational 12s within the next year.”
“Need another test pilot, General?” Strider asked as he walked towards the other officer.
The General laughed. “No, but nice try, John. If we do need someone else, I’ll keep you in mind, but I can’t guarantee anything. Other people have input into test pilot selection besides me. I think we should leave now, and I hope I don’t have to remind you, John, about keeping to yourself what you’ve seen and heard. I know you think all this security is unnecessary since there are unlikely to be Star Wolf spies among us, but security can also be necessary to manage expectations and morale. How eager will your fellow pilots be to risk their lives flying Raptors against a space attack if they’re thinking that deployment of the operational A-12s has been delayed due to some avoidable snafu or red tape? The A-12s will be ready when they’re ready, and not before. Operational versions will be distributed among the squadrons one at a time. Since another space attack could come from any direction, no squadron will get a second A-12 until all squadrons have at least one. Once pilots can see and touch an operational A-12, they’ll be able to manage their expectations, but letting the word out too soon might backfire badly on us. So, don’t make me sorry I let you in here. If I find out you couldn’t keep your mouth shut, I’ll see to it that you never fly an A-12.”
“You couldn’t have picked a more effective threat, General. I want to fly this ship or one like it so bad, I’d give my right arm for it. Keeping my mouth shut will be easy.”
“Okay. What do you say we get outta here before the guards get nervous about what’s taking us so long?”
It was dark by the time Strider pulled into his driveway and entered the house. He found his wife Maureen reading in the lounge. As he leaned down to kiss her, she asked if he wanted his supper. As usually happened, she and their son Richard had already eaten theirs. Strider was hungry, but it was only 40 minutes until Richard’s bedtime, and he decided that time with his son was more important than meeting the needs of his stomach. Just then, Richard came racing into the room and launched himself in a flying leap into his father’s arms.
“Daddy! Daddy! Can we work on my jet?”
“Sure thing.”
The two of them spent the next half hour working on the model Raptor that Strider had given Richard a few days earlier.
“Will there be another Star Wolf attack, Dad?” asked Richard out of the blue as he glued a missile to one of the wings.
Strider hesitated. He was certain there would be one during his lifetime, but he didn’t want his son to worry about an attack that hopefully would not come for years.
“No one knows for sure, Richard. We have to prepare for the worst and hope for the best. I don’t let the possibility of another attack keep me awake at night, and you shouldn’t let it keep you awake either, okay?” His son nodded. After a few seconds had passed, Strider brought up another subject. “If an attack alert sounds, what will you and your mother do? Do you remember?”
“Sure do. We head downstairs to the shelter and lock the door when we’re inside.”
“And you don’t come out until you hear the all clear.”
“Oh, yeah. I knew that but forgot to say it. What if you come back to the house and the shelter door is locked but the all clear hasn’t sounded?”
“As long as there are no Star Wolves anywhere nearby, it’ll be safe for your mother to unlock the door long enough for me to come in. But if there�
�s an attack, my duty would be to report to my squadron. That’s why I’m counting on you to make sure your mother is safe while I’m away, son.”
“I’ll try, Dad.” He held the model plane up and rotated it to see different angles. “Raptors look really fast. Think we’ll ever get something that flies faster, Dad?”
“Oh, eventually we might.”
“When I’m old enough to become a pilot, could it be that soon?”
Strider chuckled. He knew Maureen did not want Richard to become a military pilot because of the risks, but Strider was okay with the idea. And if the boy did become an interceptor pilot, he would probably be flying something that would make the A-12 look primitive by comparison.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if it did come that soon. That reminds me. How are your grades doing? The Aerospace Force won’t take you if your grades are too low.”
“I know, Dad. You remind me every time you ask about my grades. They’re about the same as the last time you asked. Can we start to add decals to this now?”
Strider checked his watch. “Bedtime in five minutes. How about we leave the decals for tomorrow so that we’ll have something to work on when I get home, okay?”
“Oh…okay,” the boy said reluctantly. “Can I play with the model for five more minutes?”