The Complete Thunder Series (Thunder In The Heavens)

by Dietmar Wehr

  Harrow was listening to him with half her attention. The other half was focused on the formation of Alliance fleets: eighteen fleets in all, including Third Fleet. The entire formation was almost back together after the scattering that hyper-space jumps usually caused. The Metrone fleet was the final one to take its assigned position, at the rear of the formation. Meanwhile, they were waiting for the first contact reports of the hundreds of RD2As that had micro-jumped closer to the Tyrell home world. This new D2 version was designed to be as close to invisible as possible, both visually and to radar detection. The plan was to pinpoint all Tyrell defense assets visually via drones before launching the attack, even if that meant delaying the attack until the following day/night cycle. For now, all 18 Alliance fleets would continue to coast so far out from this system’s sun that there was not a chance of the Tyrell seeing any light reflections.

  Harrow was about to comment on the sheer beauty of the holographic display when they heard the double ping signifying a major update. In addition to transmitting a scrolled text message, TacComp was sending a verbal message to the transceivers that Eagleton and Harrow wore in their right ears.

  “Multiple contact reports have been received and are being collated. The results should be visible on the display momentarily.”

  Harrow held her breath. When the display updated, it also zoomed in so quickly that she felt as though she was falling from a great height. For a second or two, her stomach threatened to heave. When the zoom stopped, she gasped. The scale now was much smaller, but only in relative terms. She was still looking at a large volume of space with HUNDREDS of red dots, each one representing a ship that was reflecting sunlight back to at least one RD2A.

  “My God,” whispered Harrow. “There are hundreds of them that we can see, which means—”

  Eagleton finished her sentence for her. “There are thousands that we can’t see, yes, unless they’re deliberately trying to be found. Look, you can already see that they’re organized in clusters. We’ll know for sure what we’re dealing with when the second wave jumps to within mass detection range.” He turned to look at an officer who was standing nearby. “Phase II, Cag.”

  “Initiating Phase II,” acknowledged the officer.

  “Metrone FC on Tac3,” said the Com Technician.

  Eagleton nodded. “Put him through.”

  “When will you order the next wave of drones, Admiral?” said the Metrone Admiral whose name Eagleton has just recently found out was Napelon. Eagleton had already noticed in previous conversations with him that Fleet Commander Napelon either didn’t like humans very much, or had a confrontational personality, or both. All of the Alliance Fleet Commanders had been briefed on the overall plan that Eagleton was following, and therefore the question was really Napelon’s clumsy attempt to push Eagleton to move faster.

  “The order to deploy the second wave of RD2As has already been given and is being implemented right now, Admiral Napelon.”

  “Let’s hope we get better targeting information than the first wave,” said Napelon before cutting the com channel.

  Eagleton smiled and turned to Harrow. “Are the Metrone always so polite?”

  “Actually, they usually are. I don’t think Admiral Napelon is typical of his race. My guess would be that he still hasn’t forgiven us for using his people as bait for the failed ambush.”

  “Ah, I’d forgotten all about that. Now his rudeness begins to make sense. I hope he isn’t going to be a problem, Cate. My biggest fear over this battle is that one or more of our supposed allies will ignore the overall plan and do something stupid.”

  “Napelon’s file says he’s a pretty savvy tactician. I think he’s capable of abandoning the plan, but whatever he does, it won’t be something stupid.”

  “Second wave of RD2As has jumped,” said the electronic voice of TacComp.

  “Hear we go,” whispered Eagleton. The display updated with green dots representing the projected positions of the second wave drones after their micro-jumps. Within seconds, additional red dots began to appear as each drone reported mass detection contacts via FTL transmissions, but some of the green dots began flashing.

  “Eighty-nine RD2As have not reported. High probability that they were destroyed by defensive AT fire.”

  “We thought that might happen,” said Harrow. “At least we’ve found a few more hundred of them.” She paused while Eagleton continued to focus on the display. “Gort, look at that cluster of flashing red dots over on the right. Those ships are smaller than their typical super-ships. Could they be their carriers?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I just noticed that too. Looks like there’s, ah…”—he checked the sidebar data—“57 of them. Total number of ships of all types detected so far is 1,597, and I strongly suspect we haven’t seen them all, maybe not even most of them yet.” He sighed. “Why did I even think it was possible that this battle would be easy. We’ll have to go with Plan Delta. Com, I want an audio-only conference channel with all Fleet Commanders asap.”

  Harrow took a half step backwards. She’d be able to listen in but would not participate in the discussion, and Gort didn’t need the distraction of having her stand in his peripheral vision while he was talking to his FCs. Plan Delta was the hardest scenario for the Alliance to win. The easiest would have been to have detected all or almost all of the Tyrell ships accurately enough to permit one massive salvo of RD3s that would have destroyed or crippled an estimated 89% of them, with the rest badly damaged. A follow-on salvo to pick off the ships still able to maneuver would have effectively eliminated the Tyrell’s ability to fight back. That had been the best-case scenario, and while it was prudent to plan for it, both she and Gort thought it was a low probability outcome. Plan Delta assumed a very high number of enemy ships overall, with the inability to accurately detect the majority of them. That meant that the Alliance forces would fire at what they could detect and then deal with the rest of the enemy forces while no longer having the element of surprise. Plan Delta had been simulated dozens of times, and the longer its execution lasted, the worse the problem of co-ordinating plans with 18 other fleet commanders became, especially when some FCs got impatient and acted independently. She was glad that seeing Plan Delta to a successful conclusion was not her responsibility.

  Tyrell Carrier Fleet flagship:

  Torq realized that he’d been focusing his eyes off into infinity as he wrestled with his doubts and fears. He re-focused them on the tactical display just in time to see the display update as it gave the two-tone signal of contact with hostile ships. It only took half a cyclet for him to see not only the actual positions and numbers of the enemy ships but also the implications of those positions. The Grand Master had ordered the entire Tyrell fleet to deploy in smaller clusters all around the home world at distances ranging from 10 to 20 light-cyclets. His own carrier fleet was above the planet’s axis. The enemy ships were all roughly 60 light-cyclets from Ship-of-Battle clusters but only on one side, the side of the defensive globe of ship clusters that was facing the direction from which the planet had come during its orbit around the sun. The Alliance Fleet Commander had placed his ships there so that there would be little chance of them being seen by reflected sunlight. What that Fleet Commander—Torq wondered if the human female was still in command didn’t know was that tens of thousands of sensor drones had been deployed in concentric rings around the planet out to a distance of 200 light-cyclets. He quickly switched his headset to the Fleet-wide com channel used by the Grand Master and winced at the barely recognizable voice that was almost incoherent with battle lust.

  “—OUR STEEL! LET THEM TASTE OUR STEEL!”

  Torq felt a sudden surge in his own body and had to concentrate to suppress it. “All Red Group carriers to launch all craft immediately,” he said in what he hoped was a calm voice. “Red craft to establish defensive fire perimeter around our Fleet. Commence firing as soon as in position. All other groups to bring their craft to alert status.”

  As
he listened to the acknowledgement of his orders, he stared at the angry green icons representing enemy ships. Was that all the ships they were throwing into this battle? Some of the green icons started flashing to indicate hits, and before long all of them were flashing. Torq jumped in surprise when he heard another two-tone warning and saw that some of the Ships-of-Battle were…gone! Their red dots had simply disappeared! He smashed his fist down on the armrest in frustration. That recon mission to the human system had found no sign of their lost fleet, and they still didn’t know how the humans had defeated it so quickly. Now it appeared that some of the human/alliance ships had deployed that weapon, whatever it was, before their ships were pounded into scrap from the combined FTL projectile bombardment of hundreds of Tyrell ships. Every green icon was now flashing, and it seemed to Torq that there weren’t as many green icons as there had been just a few cyclets ago. Could some of the enemy ships have been hit so many times that they simply broke up? How he would love to be able to see that happen with his own eyes!

  He started to hear cheering and then shouts of triumph by the Grand Master over the com channel that was still open. No. He shook his head. This battle could not possibly be over so quickly.

  “THE BATTLE IS WON! ALL SHIPS CEASE FIRE! THE BATTLE IS…” The Grand Master’s hoarse voice stopped suddenly and Torq thought he knew why. The interval between ecstatic peak and stomach heaving depended on the intensity of the peak. The more intense it was, the quicker the body paid the price. A quick check confirmed that the com channel had been cut from the other end. Clearly the Grand Master did not want the entire Fleet to hear him throw up. The amusement Torq felt at the mental image of that old fool throwing up uncontrollably quickly changed to horror at the thought that hundreds of thousands of his fellow warriors were almost certainly doing the exact same thing. If the enemy launched a follow-up attack now, the vast majority of the Fleet would be unable to react!

  Third Fleet flagship (Normandy):

  “Oh my God!” whispered Harrow. She looked over at Gort and saw the obvious pain on his expression. One third of the entire Alliance Fleet was gone. “How did they detect our ships so fast?”

  Gort’s voice shocked her by its calmness. There were no stress tremors. He was taking this better than she was, and she wasn’t even in command!

  “My guess would be that they’ve deployed sensor drones all around their planet out to God knows how far. They’ve certainly had enough time to do that. I should have anticipated it and ordered the first wave to emerge further back.”

  Harrow shook her head. “No, Gort, that wouldn’t have worked, remember? If our ships had launched the RD3s from further back, hit accuracy would have gone to shit.”

  Gort looked at her with sudden comprehension. “Which means that we can’t fire from a safe distance, and we can’t last long enough to fire from an accurate distance.”

  Before Harrow could say anything, they heard the Com Tech’s voice. “Metrone FC on Tac3, Admiral!”

  Eagleton nodded to the technician. Even the translating electronic voice managed to sound angry. “Your plan failed miserably, Admiral Eagleton. What are you going to do now?” As he continued venting his anger without even letting Gort respond, Harrow had a sudden ‘aha’ moment. She touched Gort’s arm and he looked at her. Keenly aware that she had no right to interfere with his tactical decisions, she kept her mouth shut so that Admiral Napelon would not hear her and opened her eyes wide, hoping that Gort will get the message that she had something urgent to tell him. He turned to look at the Com Tech and made a slashing motion across his throat. The Metrone Admiral’s voice cut off in mid-word.

  “What is it, Cate. Talk fast.”

  “Their biology! We know that they respond physically to the hormones their bodies secrete and that the let down afterwards is severe! If we attack again right NOW, we might be able to catch them while they’re still suffering the debilitating after-effects of their hormone surge! They won’t be able to respond fast enough to fire on us before we can launch our RD3s!”

  Eagleton stared off into space for a second before responding. “Right! They think they’ve won and the battle is over!”

  “And if they think the battle is over, they might have shut down their AT defensive fire,” said Harrow quickly.

  Eagleton nodded as he stared off into infinity again. “Okay…okay, first thing we do is launch another wave of D2As, then follow-up with another D3 barrage. Com, I want this text message sent to all Fleet Commanders. Is that Metrone admiral still barking?” he added as he used his tablet to compose the text message.

  “He’s still barking, Admiral,” said the Com Tech with a grin.

  Eagleton finished the text message and said, “Cag. I need another D2A launch. Set it up fast!”

  Metrone Flagship:

  Napelon was surprised that the human Fleet Commander hadn’t tried to interject during his tirade. He was just about to pause long enough for that idiot, Eagleton, to say something when a translated text message scrolled across the bottom of the main display.

  EAGLETON TO ALL FLEET COMMANDERS. ALL FLEETS WILL PREPARE TO JUMP TO ATTACK RANGE AFTER DATA FROM THIRD RD2A BARRAGE HAS BEEN RECEIVED. END OF MESSAGE.

  It dawned on him that Eagleton might have stopped listening to his tirade at some point. That, plus the absurdity of this new plan, was enough to push him over the edge of self-restraint. He screamed his rage at the top of his lungs.

  Third Fleet flagship (Normandy):

  Both Eagleton and Harrow gasped as the display updated with the results of the latest RD2A wave. There were dozens of new clusters of super-ships all around the Tyrell home world. The cluster of Tyrell carriers was larger now too. The two of them gave each other a quick look of congratulations, and Eagleton then turned to his CAG.

  “Okay, Cag, let’s allocate target clusters and do it fast. We need to strike before they recover.” The CAG nodded his acknowledgement as he instructed TacComp to compute the best way to allocate all those targets to the remaining ships. Eagleton and Harrow waited patiently. It only took a few seconds but seemed much longer.

  “Targets have been allocated, attack points have been computed and all instructions have been disseminated, Admiral,” said the CAG with obvious relief.

  “Good work. FAO, give the five second jump warning!” Turning to Cate, Eagleton said in a low voice, “I’m rolling the dice. God helps us if we’ve miscalculated this.”

  “I don’t think we have, Gort.”

  As the FAO called out the five second countdown to the micro-jump to attack range, Eagleton asked the CAG which fleet had been assigned to attack the Tyrell carrier cluster.

  “Third Fleet, Admiral,” said the CAG just as the jump took place. The CAG looked at Eagleton who nodded.

  “Commencing D3 launch!” said the CAG with considerable satisfaction.

  Tyrell Carrier Fleet flagship:

  Torq let out a moan as the two-tone sound signaled a major status change. Numerous green icons appeared, and they were distributed so that all clusters of Tyrell ships had at least one green icon 60 light-cyclets away from it, including his own carrier fleet.

  “GET ME THE GRAND MASTER!” shouted Torq. It quickly became obvious that no one at the other end was in any condition to accept the call.

  “LAUNCH ALL CRAFT IMMEDIATELY! RED GROUP IS TO ATTACK ENEMY SHIPS CLOSEST TO US!”

  A ferocious anger coursed through Torq’s veins, threatening to overtake him. The thought registered that at this point he might just as well surrender to the battle lust.

  “FLEET MASTER!” screamed his Astrogation Master. Torq spun around to look at him and saw him pointing to the tactical display which zoomed in even as Torq looked at it. It was now showing only his carrier group, and the red icons denoting his carriers were breaking up, beginning at the edge of the formation and moving inward like some unstoppable wave of destruction. His flagship was in the center of the formation.

  Torq had just enough time to roar his defiance befo
re an RD3 drone dropped out of hyper-space and detonated on contact with his ship, destroying it completely.

  Tyrell Grand Fleet flagship:

  Grand Master fought for breath as the heaving finally, FINALLY, stopped. He became aware of his surroundings and the noise. The main tactical display was emitting the two-tone signal of a major status change over and over again. His Command Center staff were shouting in what sounded like panic. Some of them were pointing at the display. He sat up to look at it, and at first couldn’t comprehend what it was telling him. It was not possible that his beloved Ships-of-Battle were disappearing in droves! That could NOT be! He needed to give an order, but didn’t know what order to give, and his throat was still painfully raw from all the acidic liquid his stomach had been pushing upward for what seemed like an eternity. Just as he found that he could make a sound, the deck heaved upwards so suddenly that his head hit it. He lost consciousness, and a few seconds later, his life.