Castle Vroman

by Thomas DePrima

  Castle Vroman - Kindle Edition

  Copyright ©2004, 2011 by Thomas J. DePrima

  All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or any other means without the permission of the copyright holder is illegal, and punishable by law.

  No part of this novel may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the copyright holder, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

  This is a work of fiction. All the characters and events portrayed in this book are fictional, and any resemblance to real people or incidents is purely coincidental.

  This version of the printed novel has been formatted for presentation on Amazon Kindle devices and various other electronic media. The requirement that the text flow freely to accommodate different mediums may at times result in unusual display arrangements. Every effort has been made to ensure that the document is free of spelling and grammatical errors. If you find an error, please report it on the author's website so that a correction, if appropriate, can be performed immediately. Thank you.

  Cover art by Thomas DePrima

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  To contact the author, or see additional information about this and his other novels, visit:

  http://www.deprima.com

  An appendix containing technical data pertinent to this series is included at the back of this book.

  * * *

  Many thanks to Ted King for his technical expertise and encouragement, and to Michael A. Norcutt for his suggestions, proofreading, and for acting as my military protocol advisor. I also want to thank James Richardson and Adam Shelley for their beta reading and invaluable suggestions, and Myra Shelley for her wonderful editing work on this novel.

  * * *

  This series of Jenetta Carver novels include:

  A Galaxy Unknown

  Valor at Vauzlee

  The Clones of Mawcett

  Trader Vyx

  Milor!

  Castle Vroman

  Against All Odds

  Other novels by this author include:

  When The Spirit Moves You

  When The Spirit Calls

  * * *

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Appendix

  Product Description

  * * *

  Chapter One

  ~ October 1st, 2277 ~

  "Is this rumor true?" Emperor Maxxiloth roared with all the intensity his body could produce. One of his four tentacles darted out and clenched a portable electronic pad so tightly the device began to warp. He smashed it down onto the table with such force that the officers and ministers, most of whom had averted their four eyes to avoid his stare, jumped in their seats. "Did our First and Second Fleets, the pride of the Milori Empire, run away from a fight with a convoy of merchant ships?" he bellowed. "Have we sunk so low that we fear to have our finest warships engage lightly armed food merchants and baggage handlers?"

  Considered by most Terrans to be the ugliest sentient species so far encountered since first moving off Earth, just looking at a Milora could make a person's skin crawl. Terrans often refer to them as being giant cockroaches because of their stringy body hair and four bug-like eyes. However, placements of the single-colored eyes offer them peripheral vision far superior to that of Terrans. Generally about the same height as Terrans, they have what pass for two arms. But instead of hands, the arms terminate in claws. When a claw is open, two opposed digits, like fingers on a Terran, are visible. The digits provide dexterity not possible with claws, while the claws can clamp down onto something like a vise.

  A Milora also has four tentacles and it's probably those appendages that upset Terrans so much. The body hair and loose cloaks they wear completely conceal their tentacles when at rest, but eyewitness reports indicate they can dart out to coil around you, then crush you to death, as would a boa constrictor on Earth.

  "My Lord," Exalted Lord Space Marshall Berquyth said softly, hoping to calm the emperor, "the intelligence information appears to be accurate, but Supreme Lord Space Marshall Dwillaak couldn't have known they were freighters. They were positioned behind a line of Galactic Alliance warships of the highest caliber and so far distant that they were barely registering on the scanners. Space Command's senior officer in the area, an Admiral Carver, tricked Dwillaak into believing the convoys were fleets of warships, and the ship sizes, as recorded by our own DeTect systems, certainly made them appear to be battleships, cruisers, frigates, and destroyers.

  "This Carver," Berquyth continued, "is their most able admiral. It was she who annihilated our Third Fleet. Although outnumbered seven to one, she suffered only minor damage to her task force. Her exploits have become legendary throughout the Galactic Alliance and she is generally credited with forcing the giant Raider organization to its knees. Even they admit to that. At one time, they had placed an astronomical bounty on her head. Two armed assassins died trying to earn that reward, one by her own hands, and the other by a bite from one of her pets."

  Berquyth turned to face the enormous wall monitor in the War Planning Chamber where an image of Admiral Jenetta Carver jumped into focus. Taken during an awards ceremony, the image showed her receiving her third Space Command Cross. "We've obtained a picture of her from one of their news broadcasts," he said.

  "Is this the most recent image of her that we have?" the Emperor raged. "Surely someone of such importance must have her picture taken regularly. My regal visage is captured dozens of times every day."

  "This image is just a few weeks old, my Lord. It was part of a live broadcast from one of their news services at the ceremony where she was decorated for defeating our fleets. I know you're unfamiliar with their military insignia, but if you'll notice her shoulders, you'll see two stars on each. They mean that she's risen to the second level of five in Space Command's topmost ranks. Her rank and seniority place her sixty-seventh in their top hierarchy of two hundred seventeen flag officers."

  "But from what I know of the physiology of these ugly, almost hairless creatures, she looks like a mere child," the emperor said, speaking a bit more rationally now that he had become intrigued.

  "She's the youngest admiral in Space Command history by quite some measure. Chronologically, she's forty-two Earth years old, but she was in stasis for eleven of those years following an accident aboard her ship while she was a junior officer. Space Command, for purposes of calculating years to retirement, records her age as just over thirty-one Earth years."

  "Thirty-one Earth years? Isn't that the equivalent of about twenty of our annuals?"

  "Yes, my Lord. Twenty-point-seven-seven of our annuals."

  "How could someone so young rise to such a powerful position? Is her clan so well connected that she has received special promotional consideration?"

  "No, my Lord. While her ancestry chart evinces a proud lineage of military service, her sire is a mere ship's captain. She was captured by the Raider organization nine or ten Earth years ago after sneaking into one of their bases to gather intelligence information and was subsequently sla
ted for servitude at one their brothels. She managed to escape. During the process, she destroyed the entire Raider base, along with dozens of warships and tens of thousands of Raider personnel. But our agents have determined she never attempted to exploit new political connections for favorable treatment. I distinctly remember hearing that Space Command promotes on some strange sort of merit system instead of the time-honored tradition of clan ascendancy. She still carries the slave brand and is officially registered as the property of Resorts Intergalactic in many systems within the Uthlaro Dominion."

  "And this young, escaped slave is responsible for destroying one of our fleets, and greatly humbling the others?"

  "Yes, my Lord. The Space Command task force was under her direct supervision and one of the battleships that faced Dwillaak served as her flagship."

  "And she only had twelve warships, not the hundreds Dwillaak thought?"

  "It certainly appears that way, my Lord. She is incredibly clever."

  "Then she is indeed a worthy opponent, despite her young age," the emperor said. Beaming as if he had already defeated Carver, he said, "Her mounted head will fit in well with the other trophies in my study. You will issue orders for Dwillaak to immediately reverse course, engage this child and her fantasy force again, and bring me her head."

  "Uh, there is a difficulty, my Lord."

  "What is it?" the Emperor asked angrily. "Is Dwillaak afraid to take on this child again?"

  Calmly, Berquyth said, "Not at all, my Lord. He is most anxious to restore his clan's honor. But our spies report that at least nineteen more warships have arrived at Stewart since the confrontation. Carver now has at least thirty-four first-class warships in her command."

  "Only thirty-four? We'll crush them to space dust. Dwillaak has almost two hundred left of his invasion force."

  "We also know that Space Command has scrambled its entire fleet. We estimate that as many as two hundred more warships are underway to the border at top speed. We've definitely lost the element of surprise. We can still engage Space Command, but it's extremely unlikely that we could even get near Earth now. At best we might only succeed in destroying much of their force at the expense of our own."

  "But wouldn't that accomplish most of our goals?" the Emperor asked. "We already intended to let privateers run wild in the territory until it was time for us to take full control. The privateers will keep Space Command bottled up and their systems in turmoil while we consolidate our territories."

  "But we didn't intend to lose the three fleets that we sent. That might make us much more vulnerable to attack by our other enemies. And there's still the matter of the unknown weapons that Space Command used against us. Our Raider contact, Commandant Mikel Arneu, has explained the construction and operation of the energy cage and Dwillaak figured out how Carver made it appear that the cage was causing ships to explode upon contact. She had positioned proximity mines in positions coincident with the array pattern of the generated electronic fields. But we still don't know anything about the invisible bombs that explode with the force of a hundred nuclear mines. That one weapon makes their forces several times more lethal than their ships would be on their own."

  "So you recommend that Dwillaak not reengage her at this time?"

  "That would be my recommendation, my Lord."

  "Where is Dwillaak now?"

  "The First and Second Fleets are still over one hundred twenty-five light-annuals inside the Alliance's Frontier Zone, headed back towards our territory as we speak. They could turn around now and be in position to attack Stewart Space Command Base in a quarter of an annual if that is your wish."

  "And if they don't turn around, they travel three-quarters of a light-annual further away from this Admiral Carver each day. Perhaps we should simply halt the invasion force and have them maintain position until we learn more about these new weapons?"

  "We know Admiral Carver has spotter ships watching for our fleet at irregular intervals because we were given specific course instructions for leaving their territory so they could monitor our exodus. If we fail to pass the hidden spotter ships, they will know we have stopped and could declare us in breach of the treaty that Dwillaak endorsed."

  "I didn't agree to that treaty and I don't recognize it," Maxxiloth said angrily. Defiantly, he added, "Let them declare us to be in breach."

  "But they might then begin making preparations to invade us, my Lord. With half our fleets still in their territory, we are ill prepared to stop a major invasion force in our space should they get past our borders undetected."

  Emperor Maxxiloth growled ominously in frustration. "Very well, allow our fleets to continue as if they are headed home–– but I want a detailed report on the status of our remaining forces by the end of this day. I want to know how many additional ships we can free up from other duties to send against the Galactic Alliance. The record of this inglorious defeat must not be allowed to stand any longer than necessary."

  * * *

  Chapter Two

  ~ October 1st, 2277 ~

  Admiral Vroman entered the Captain's briefing room when the doors parted to admit him.

  "Good morning, Admiral," Captain Halmar Lindahl, captain of the destroyer Lisbon, said as he stood up. "Won't you have a seat, sir? Would you care for a beverage?"

  "Thanks, Hal, I'm fine," Vroman said, as he settled into one of the oh-gee chairs that faced Lindahl's desk and adjusted the control for the chair's height. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important. I'm just feeling a little antsy. I won't have much to do this trip except study the latest status reports filed by Admiral Carver, and continue to acquaint myself with every aspect of the operations at Stewart. My only break in the dull routine has been reviewing the vids of her encounters with the Milori."

  "The vids make for very exciting viewing," Lindahl said.

  "The first dozen times," Vroman said. "After thirty or more viewings they start to lose their edge."

  "Thirty, sir?"

  "Yes. Everyone, including Admiral Carver, expects the Milori to return once they've replaced the warships she destroyed. It's almost a given that they'll attempt to seize our territory again. I must be prepared for that day in case it happens during my tour there. I've been studying every aspect of their tactics, and Admiral Carver's."

  "Since she sent the Milori packing back to their own empire, things have really calmed down out there. Given the distance to Milor, the time it will take to build a hundred plus new ships, and the return time, I doubt that they'll be back before your tour is over. The large fleet Admiral Carver commands is providing Stewart's sectors with unparalleled patrol coverage. I've heard that it's been as quiet out there as it is in the sectors around Earth."

  "I expect that by the time we arrive at Stewart in fifteen months, Admiral Carver should have all of the trouble-making elements in her sectors under firm control. I'm hoping that all I'll have to do is follow her blueprint through to the end of my tour."

  "Other than a few smugglers now and again, I doubt that you'll have much to worry about, sir."

  * * *

  Jenetta had sufficient time to prepare a mug of coffee, check her mail, and think about the day ahead before her first appointment in the pristine and spacious headquarters section of Stewart Space Command Base. The tall, young officer, with a face and body like that of a blond Aphrodite, sported the two gold stars on each shoulder, which proclaimed her an admiral in Space Command.

  But for the fact that there were no windows, and that you couldn't step outside for a breath of fresh air, you'd never know you weren't at a military base on Earth or some other planet. Positioned near the inner edge of what's called the Frontier Zone, a hundred-parsec-wide band of space that surrounds much of Galactic Alliance space, Stewart is the furthest StratCom base from Earth. Housed inside a hollowed out hundred-twenty-kilometer-long asteroid in permanent orbit around a Type F5 blue/white MMK class IV star with an asteroid belt but no planets, the base was well protected from both enemies and natural
phenomena.

  Commander Barbara DeWitt, the fifty-year-old head of the Weapons Research section was always punctual, and Jenetta's aide, Lt. Commander Lori Ashraf, sent the attractive brunette in after first advising the admiral of her presence.

  "Come in, Barbara. Coffee?"

  "Thank you, Admiral," DeWitt said, smiling, as she walked towards the beverage dispenser mounted in a sidewall. "I could use a cup. We've spent the early morning disassembling one of the Milori laser weapons in a clean room."

  "Find anything interesting?" Jenetta asked after DeWitt had prepared her coffee and taken a seat.

  "Nothing I've felt obligated to immediately report to Weapons Research at Supreme Headquarters, but the Milori do things a little differently than we do and we're documenting everything for our regular weekly report."

  "Good. If you have some time, I have a little project I'd like you to look into."

  "Of course, Admiral, anything."

  "We were seriously impacted, no pun intended, by Milori torpedoes in the battle with their third fleet. Our gunners did a magnificent job, but far too many torpedoes got past them, and I've been giving it a lot of thought. Throughout most of Space Command's history, opponents who haven't immediately surrendered have tried to run. The Raiders might fire a torpedo or two before showing us their ship's stern, as is the case with the Tsgardi, but neither ever believed they had a chance of beating us in a fair fight and usually took off as soon as they saw an opening. But during the past decade, we've found ourselves increasingly facing opponents who stand and fight."

  "Yes, Admiral?"

  "I remember from my studies at the Academy that during the late twentieth century the U.S. Navy had a special cannon system designed to automatically protect a ship from incoming surface-to-surface or air-to-surface rockets. Have you heard of the Phalanx?"