Return of the Star Raiders (The Long Road Back Book 1)

by Dietmar Wehr

  “They’ve fired again.” Wolfgar didn’t know who had spoken, but it didn’t matter. The enemy ship had just fired its third barrage.

  Strider checked the flight profiles of his first barrage of three missiles. Instead of aiming the missiles at where the enemy was at the time of firing and letting the missiles’ own guidance systems adjust that programming along the way based on what their own radar was telling them, the TO had programmed them to aim for where the targets were expected to be when the missiles got there. That was necessary due to the unusual firing geometry of this battle. The enemy ships were moving so fast now that Fearless II had to fire while the enemy was still more or less ahead of it.

  From Wolfhound’s point of view, Fearless II’s missiles would be coming from off to one side while Nemesis’ missiles were coming from directly ahead. A careful study of Nemesis’ radars had revealed that they did a much better job of providing accurate data to the point-defense auto-cannons when they sent radar signals out in narrow beams instead of the normal wide-angle beams used for scanning in all directions. If all three enemy ships did that as a precaution against becoming targets, then Strider’s first missile barrage might just be able to sneak in undetected, with the missiles’ terminal guidance radars turning on at the last possible moment to ensure a hit.

  Wolfgar gripped his chair’s armrest harder as the remaining seconds counted down to the enemy’s missile barrage reaching their targets. Here we go, he thought.

  Banshee’s auto-cannon did fire at the incoming wave; Destiny’s point-defense systems did not. Ten of the sixteen missiles got past Banshee. Wolfhound’s auto-cannon were more successful because the missiles were coming directly at it, whereas Banshee’s systems had tried to stop the missiles as they flew past at high relative speeds. All ten warheads were hit and detonated before they hit Wolfhound, but the last missile was hit only a dozen yards away, and that was close enough for Wolfhound to feel most of the energy from the warhead blast. Wolfgar’s restraining harness held, but the straps holding the communication crewman broke under the stress from the concussion wave. The crewman’s body flew up against the ceiling so hard that his neck snapped.

  Wolfgar momentarily blacked out from the temporary interruption in the supply of oxygenated blood to his brain. When his vision came back, everything had a red tinge to it, and one eye hurt like hell. He chalked up the redness to a burst blood vessel in that eye and shifted his focus to what was happening around him. The groans he heard were from the rest of the Command Deck crew, but with the exception of the clearly dead communications crewman, the rest seemed to be more stunned than injured. A quick check confirmed that Wolfhound had not sustained any damage other than overloading of external optical equipment and radars. The optics were ruined, but the radars could be rebooted. The tactical display was not showing anything coherent, but Wolfgar suspected that was from a lack of data only.

  “GET THE DAMN RADARS BACK ON LINE! WEAPONS OFFICER, FIRE MISSILES BASED ON THE LAST BEARING WE HAVE!”

  “Did we hit that ship?” asked Strider.

  “Not sure,” said Montoya. “If we missed, it wasn’t by much. For sure that ship felt the detonations. They seem to be taking their time about fi—” He stopped talking when a new red triangle appeared with the number eight inside, followed a second later by two more red triangles, one with an eight and the other with a nine.

  “Guess you’re going to get the chance to field test the new jamming equipment,” said Strider in what he hoped was a sympathetic tone.

  “And it damn well better work too,” said Montoya. “My fourth barrage is ready to fire. Are you ready with yours?”

  “All set.”

  “Firing in two…one…now.”

  Strider turned to the TO. “Does the tactical computer have firing control?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Remember to hold our last three missiles as long as possible, but you can fire them without waiting for my command if we’re about to lose our firing solution.”

  Strider was able to relax a bit now because it was all up to the computers, both his and Montoya’s. Human reflexes were too slow to get the timing of the first barrage just right. At the appropriate second, Fearless II fired three missiles, one at each of the enemy ships.

  Even though Nemesis’ fourth barrage was fired after the enemy ships fired, its 16 missiles and Fearless II’s 3 missiles would hit their targets first. Interception was now less than 60 seconds away. Strider checked the firing solution, which confirmed that Fearless II could fire its last three missiles after seeing what the second wave did to the enemy, and they would still reach them as long as they didn’t change their trajectory. He told the tactical display to zoom in so that each enemy ship was identified by its own icon. As the range between missiles and target dropped fast, he saw that the three ships were maneuvering relative to each other. Two were dropping back a little. Strider was no longer able to tell which of the three ships had been leading the charge earlier, and he wasn’t sure which ship had been targeted by Nemesis. With seconds left to go, Strider held his breath and crossed his fingers.

  This time all three ships fired point defense auto-cannon on any missile within range. Destiny was now in the lead. Montoya’s TO had not changed the missile targeting command which told the missiles to go after the closest target. As the three missiles fired from Fearless II got within two seconds of interception, they turned on their terminal guidance radars for final course corrections. By this time, Wolfhound had drifted behind Destiny from the point of view of those three missiles. The two missiles that had been targeted on Wolfhound and Destiny now only saw one radar reflection instead of two, and both changed course to hit it. Only seven of the eighteen missiles aimed at Destiny were stopped by point defense. Eleven hit the ship. Their combined energy blast vaporized 90% of the ship. The missile aimed at Banshee hit its target, and while the ship survived more or less intact, its crew were either killed by the concussion or were too injured to continue operating. Wolfhound emerged from the massive fireball almost unscathed.

  “You destroyed one and probably seriously damaged another!” said Strider.

  “Yeah, but one got a free pass I think. At least Nemesis did some good. Good bye, Major. It was an honor serving with y—”

  Strider closed his eyes. He didn’t need to see the tactical display to know that Nemesis had just been destroyed. When he did open them and looked at the display, Nemesis’ green triangle was gone. No time to grieve now. There was one undamaged target left and only seconds left to fire on her.

  “TO! Target all three missiles on the ship that’s still accelerating and fire!”

  “Yessir! Firing…now!”

  Wolfgar hadn’t blacked out when that wave of missiles hit their targets, but he did feel stunned again. Wolfhound had been close enough to both of the other ships so that the residual blast energy had jerked the ship hard. When radar and the tactical display were back on line, he screamed his frustration at the data it displayed. Banshee was coasting and leaking atmosphere. Destiny, what was now left of her, was no bigger than one of the troop transports Wolfhound carried. Those staggered missile barrages had been far more effective than he had expected. At least that goddamn New Caledonian ship was gone too. He noticed that the radar was still set for narrow, targeting beams.

  “You can switch back to early warning scan now, Ferguson,” said Wolfgar. It was time to bring the ship back around to a heading that would take it into orbit around this soon-to-be-blasted-back-to-the-stone-age planet. He wasn’t even going to bother with the plundering. There would still be plenty of loot when they raided Valhalla. No, this was now a punitive mission. New Caledon would become a lesson for any planet that dared to kill raiders.

  “INCOMING MISSILES, CAPTAIN!” yelled the weapons officer.

  “NOT POSSIBLE!” Wolfgar stared with shock at the red icon that was coming at his ship from an impossible angle. Radar was not detecting another ship anywhere. How could there be thre
e missiles coming at him now?

  “SWITCH TO TARGETING SCANNING!” he yelled. Wolfhound’s auto-cannon managed to destroy all three missiles far enough away to avoid any serious concussion effects, but Wolfgar was now terrified that he was facing a very advanced technology that made a ship effectively invisible to radar. If his ship couldn’t see it, they couldn’t fire at it, and while a three-missile barrage could be stopped as long as his auto-cannon had ammunition, that ammo supply would eventually be used up. A quick check confirmed that his auto-cannon had already used half their ammo.

  After a few seconds of debating what to do, his fear overcame his anger at New Caledonians in general and Richard Strider in particular.

  “Veer off! We can’t fight an invisible ship. Set course for Valhalla. We’ll find easier pickings there. This blasted planet will have to wait for another day,” said Wolfgar as he banged his fist on the armrest.

  Strider’s initial dismay that none of the last three missiles got through turned into cautious optimism when it began to appear that the third ship was veering off, away from New Caledon.

  “PDC, this is Strider. That last bogey seems to be withdrawing.”

  “PDC to Fearless II. Hold your position until we’re sure they’re leaving.”

  Strider hesitated before answering. Hold position? Why, when he was out of missiles? He could think of only one possible reason why Fearless II would be ordered to stay up here. A radar-invisible ship might have a chance to ram the enemy as a last resort. The possibility of being ordered to do that made him shiver with fear.

  “We’ll, ah, hold position, PDC.”

  Ten minutes later, PDC let him off the hook when it was clear that the last enemy ship was heading away from the planet. They ordered Fearless II to land in order to be reloaded with missiles. She would also take aboard a team of technicians and a security contingent so that the ship could rendezvous with the crippled ship that was still coasting and now also moving away from New Caledon. If the maneuvering engines and controls were still operational, the ship could be brought back into orbit and salvaged to replace the lost Nemesis.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Reloading took almost a whole day. Catching up to and then matching velocities with the crippled ship took almost another. By this time, the crippled ship had entered a highly elliptical orbit around the sun, and it would get dangerously close to the sun within another 21 hours unless the technicians could get the engines working. After trying for over 8 hours to gain access to the ship’s interior without success, Strider called off the salvage operation. Fearless II’s unarmored hull was already getting hot enough to raise the internal air temperature. If the cripple managed to avoid being pulled into the sun, they could try rendezvousing with it again.

  As Fearless II kept a visual watch from a safe distance, the crippled ship began to spiral into the sun and was eventually consumed by the intense heat. Not even its collapsed-matter armor could withstand those temperatures for long. Upon returning to New Caledon, PDC ordered Fearless II to take up the same sentry orbit that Nemesis had occupied. They’d remain there for another five days whereupon a replacement crew would take over for a one-week tour of duty.

  Terrington himself debriefed Strider about the battle and the failed salvage attempt. When Strider was finished recounting the details, Terrington put down the data tablet that he’d been using to make notes and leaned back in his chair.

  “We can’t be certain, but analysis of PDC’s radar data during the battle appears to show that the ship that was initially in the lead was the one that got away. Whether that ship was the Wolfhound, there’s no way to tell. Wolfgar might still be out there somewhere plotting a return visit.”

  “If he survived the battle, then I’m certain he’ll come back. His ego is just too big to let this defeat slide. Do we have any idea where that ship went after it left here?”

  “Well, the last data we managed to collect was consistent with a heading for Valhalla. He may have gone there to drum up some reinforcements for round two,” said Terrington.

  “Unless he had already done that to get that third ship. One of the three fired nine missiles versus eight from the other two. That nine-missile ship could have been a Valhallan ship, and if so, then maybe that planet is now defenseless. That would make a tempting target for any raider and particularly for Wolfgar, I think.”

  “And without a jump-capable ship, there’s no way for us to find out. It’s too bad you weren’t able to get access to the cripple. Without it, we’ll be dependent on Haven ships visiting us until we finish building our own hyper-ship. When they bring Tomonaga and his team back, they can carry back a message from us,” said Terrington.

  “What’s the estimated completion date for our hyper-ship?”

  “Three months minimum and probably more likely four. I know you’re anxious to get back out there, Richard, but you’ll just have to be patient. Is there anything else you want me to know that’s not in your report?”

  “No, General. Nothing else.”

  “Okay, then. You can start your leave. Be back here in seven days.”

  Strider’s homecoming was even more enthusiastic than usual. He could tell that Samantha was barely able to hold back tears as she hugged and kissed him. Troy was eager to hear all the nitty gritty details of the battle. Strider took pains to point out that without Nemesis’ help and sacrifice, the raiders would have won.

  Later, when Troy was asleep, and his parents were in bed, Samantha put her arm over Strider’s chest and her head next to his.

  “I heard your description of the battle,” she said in a low voice. “How close was it really?”

  “I don’t honestly know,” he said slowly. “When my last three missiles missed, I figured we were at their mercy, but they didn’t press their advantage. My crew thinks that last raider captain realized he couldn’t detect my ship and may have been low on anti-missile ammunition. There was no way for him to know that Fearless was out of missiles, so he disengaged. I think, all things considered, we got lucky this time.”

  She was silent for a while before speaking. “I know you feel you have to avenge your father’s death, and now you know exactly who killed him. Can you promise me that when this Wolfgar is dead, you’ll let someone else take the risks and ask for a staff posting, so that I won’t have to worry to the point of throwing up any more?”

  “The situation at that point in time may not give me the option of asking to be reassigned, so I can’t promise you that, but when Wolfgar is dead, I’ll take a hard look at my situation. Is that enough?”

  He heard her sigh. “No, but at least it’s a start.”

  Strider spent that seven-day leave with Samantha and Troy. His next tour of duty on board Fearless II was pleasantly uneventful. During each week off thereafter, he visited the construction site for the new hyper-ship every day. The construction crews got to know him by name and allowed him to get closer to the work than would normally be the case.

  Eventually Haven’s Enterprise returned with Tomonaga and his team. The ship carried back a copy of Strider’s after-action report as well as the official response by the Aerospace Force. The ship also brought some news. Tomonaga’s Redstone and the heavy cruiser Resolute had returned to Olympus to see if Wolfhound or any other raider were there. They found the Capital half destroyed by fire, the government in a shambles and the raider base gone, including all the equipment that had been used to repair ships. But the best news from Strider’s point of view was the news that Karl Jaeger was still alive and was now back on Haven recovering from the broken bones he suffered when his tank was flipped upside down by a raider cannon shell. It had taken local emergency responders two days to finally get around to searching for survivors at the wrecked spaceport, and that’s when they found him. With the chaos resulting from the decapitated government—Sanderval was dead—Jaeger managed to avoid having to take responsibility for starting the spaceport firefight. Strider was able to finish a personal letter to him in
time for the ship to take it back. The freighter’s captain didn’t know when his ship would return to New Caledon. Haven’s Navy no longer needed any AF crews for their ships now that they had trained enough of their own people to keep their ships in the field all the time. If Nemesis hadn’t been destroyed, she could have been released for duties other than planetary defense, such as raider hunting, when Fearless II became available, but that was no longer possible. Strider had a feeling that Haven was now testing his planet to see if its people had the will to get themselves into the fight against the raiders. The new hyper-ship would answer that question.

  She didn’t have a name yet, and Strider spent a lot of time thinking about an appropriate one. One evening Troy found his father sitting on the sofa scribbling words on a pad of paper. He sat down beside his father and looked at the words.

  “What’s that you’re writing, dad?”

  “I’m making a list of possible names for the new hyper-ship.”

  “What about calling it Nemesis II. I liked that name. It sounded scary.”

  Strider shook his head. “I don’t think General Terrington and the other senior officers would agree to that, son. Nemesis was the name of a raider ship. We kept the name only because we were too busy doing other things to bother thinking up a new one, but we have plenty of time now to think of something else. I do agree though that Nemesis is a cool name. Maybe something that means the same thing or close to it.”