Castle Vroman

by Thomas DePrima

"I'm sure that we can work out the crew complement situation," Admiral Moore said. "Is there any question that we should accept this–– gift, of sixty ships, that Admiral Carver is holding out to us? No? Okay, we'll begin preparing to receive the ships into Space Command fleet operations as they become ready for duty. The next topic is Admiral Carver's suggestion for an automatic weapon system that will assist in the protection of a ship from enemy torpedoes. The design and operation will be along the lines of the Phalanx used on Earth's naval vessels, although it will fire laser pulses instead of solid projectiles."

  "I've read the proposal and initial research that Commander DeWitt at Stewart has done since Admiral Carver ordered her to work on this idea," Admiral Plimley said, "and I'm intrigued by the possibilities. As Director of Weapons Research and Development, I support the work completely. It addresses all of the previous concerns that were raised about a similar kinetic projectile weapon and could offer a significant improvement in ship protection if we can make it work effectively."

  "As long as the weapon is restricted to laser pulse, I wholeheartedly support it as well," Admiral Ressler, the eighty-six-year-old Director of Budget & Accounting said.

  "All in favor?" Admiral Moore said, looking around the table for a show of hands. "Passed. We'll put our full support behind the research and incorporate it into all warship weapon systems if it's proven effective. Admiral Plimley will see that all research sections coordinate their efforts with Stewart's, who will lead the project." Admiral Moore paused to clear his throat. "The final topic for today concerns the posting of Admiral Carver herself at the end of her present duty tour. It's previously been proposed that she be assigned the onerous task of merging the Nordakian Space Force into Space Command, and we've discussed that task at length. Because of her dual citizenship with Earth and Nordakia, her fluency in Dakis, her rank of Senior Admiral in the Nordakian Space Force, and the fact that she's a member of that planet's nobility, she's ideally suited to handle the post. I recently discussed this again with King Tpalsh of Nordakia and he's prepared to name her Admiral of the Fleet of the Nordakian Space Force for as long as the Space Force remains a separate entity. Admiral Yuthkotl, their present Admiral of the Fleet, will take the Space Command oath and become the eleventh member of this board with the rank of Rear Admiral, Lower Half. He'll remain on Nordakia until Admiral Carver relieves him and assumes his duties."

  "You feel confident that she'll accept the position?" Admiral Hillaire asked.

  "Her initial orders will only direct her to proceed to Higgins and report to Admiral Holt. I'm hoping he can convince her this job is so important she should put aside her personal feelings of wanting a ship and accept the posting."

  "What about her rank?" Admiral Burke, the ninety-two-year-old Director of Intelligence asked.

  "I feel that it's imperative she remain as an Upper Half if she's to carry out the duties of her new posting. She'll be responsible for coordinating everything between the new Space Command Academy on Nordakia, the Nordakian Space Force Academy, and the Nordakian Space Force itself. She'll need her two Space Command stars to outrank Admiral Rensiller and the officers of the new Academy, along with the five-moon cluster she'll receive for her Nordakian uniform when appointed Admiral of the Nordakian Fleet. As senior ranking officer over all military personnel in the Nordakian system, she'll have the authority to take whatever actions she feels necessary to accomplish our goals. I'm sure there will be some resentment from senior Nordakian Space Force officers who won't be able to make the transition to Galactic Space Command. They'll just have to transfer to the Nordakian agency that supervises civilian freighter services."

  "She's expecting to return to her permanent rank of Captain at the end of her current tour," Admiral Ahmed, the eighty-nine-year-old Director of Quartermaster Supply said. "Won't the retention of her two brevetted stars alert her that we're not being completely open?"

  "It can't be helped," Admiral Moore said. "I don't want to inform her that she's not getting her own ship just yet because I'd rather the news of the new posting didn't fester like an open sore during the year-long trip to Higgins. I believe she'll take the news better from Admiral Holt in a direct contact meeting because of their close friendship; then she's just three months from Nordakia and her new post. Perhaps she'll simply believe she's being honored by the extension of extra pay and privileges during her voyage to Higgins."

  * * *

  "Is this the best plan you can come up with?" Emperor Maxxiloth shouted, his voice echoing off the fine wood and stonework of the large meeting hall. Like every room in the palace, it had been constructed with the finest materials available. Short, decorative stone columns with carved stone busts of former emperors lined the walls. "I could have done this in just one solar. What have you been doing all this time?"

  The dozen senior military officers and twelve ministers sat stone faced, staring down at the table in front of them.

  "My Lord," Exalted Lord Space Marshall Berquyth said calmly, "we've spent many solars reviewing every minute detail. The ships that will make up the two new fleets are the best we have left. We had already sent all of our newest ships as part of the first three fleets. These ships aren't as fast, so it will take them a little longer to reach Dwillaak, but the crews are just as eager to fight for you and the glory of the new Empire."

  "But there are only two hundred fourteen ships in this plan. Combined with Dwillaak's existing forces, we'll still only have four hundred fourteen ships to move against Carver."

  "As you've ordered, my Lord, every ship available is being prepared for the voyage. We're holding back just eighty-eight ships, and they are the oldest and slowest still in service. We dare not send any more or we shall be leaving the Empire much too vulnerable to attack by our other enemies. I greatly fear what the Hudeeracs might do if they were to learn just how limited our remaining forces are once these ships have deployed."

  "Bah! The Hudeeracs are sheep! We destroyed their fleets and drove them out of two full sectors, losing only a dozen ships ourselves. They cower in their own solar system now, afraid to risk travel beyond their small cluster of planets. The Galactic Alliance is another matter entirely. We must crush them before they become so strong they'll be dictating terms while in orbit around our home world."

  "But our fight with the Hudeerac occurred when we had a full armada of warships to support our advances. I must beseech you once again not to proceed until we've built enough ships to replace those we lost to Space Command. In three or four annuals we can produce three hundred new warships as fast and powerful as the ones we lost. We won't be leaving ourselves in such a precarious position. With less than a single fleet of warships to protect the Empire, even the Tsgardi might get designs on part of our territory."

  "Bah! More sheep! Moreover, the Tsgardi are not just sheep, they're complete imbeciles. They would never attempt to annex part of our territory because they know we'd crush them in an annual if they ever dared."

  "But, Excellency, what if the Tsgardi were to join forces with the Hudeerac?"

  "Impossible! The Tsgardi are too stupid to ever conceive of such a plan, and too disorganized to ever carry it out."

  "But the Hudeerac aren't. If they were to ally themselves with the Tsgardi, or possibly the Gondusans, our eighty-eight ships might not be enough to save us."

  "Enough, Berquyth! I've made my decision. By now, word of our defeat at the hands of Carver must have reached our enemies; I can hear their laughter ringing in my ears. We mustn't allow them to start thinking we've grown soft or we invite attack. We'll show them the Milori Empire is stronger than ever. I've already given word to our ship builders that they must double production. All new ships will be used to bolster the fleet that remains behind."

  "Yes, my Lord," Berquyth said humbly. He had pushed his position as forcefully as he dared.

  "Since you fear the Hudeerac and Gondusan sheep, move all our remaining warships, except for our core protection group, to those parts of th
e empire. When the fleet returns in glory from Galactic Alliance space, they can reinforce the undermanned bases throughout the empire."

  "Yes, my Lord."

  "How long before we'll be in position to launch our attack?"

  "It will take almost a full annual for the replacement fleets we're sending, to meet up with Dwillaak's main force just outside of Galactic Alliance space, but as soon as we notify Dwillaak, he'll begin splintering off some of his retreating forces and sending them to pre-designated locations. We're counting on the ability of our DeTect distortion equipment to confuse the spotter ship sensors. Unable to count the passing ships properly, they should only be watching for the passage of the two main fleets. If they notice that ships are missing, we'll tell them they stopped to make minor repairs and will be resuming their exodus shortly. The separated ships will then travel independently, so as not to attract any attention, and wait quietly in their hidden locations until they receive word to unite for their attacks. We believe that, with the help of Commandant Arneu of the Raiders, we should be able to place as many as thirty of our best warships within the sectors controlled by Stewart SC Base. Arneu suggested that we hide our entire fleet inside one of their camouflaged asteroid bases, but the Imperial Military Council doesn't fully trust him, and doesn't want our ships bottled up inside an asteroid if Space Command attacks."

  "I agree with that assessment. Space Command has already found and commandeered two of their asteroid bases, and destroyed another. We'll work with him, for now, but never trust him. He's a Terran, after all."

  "I've allowed him to believe that we'll turn Carver over to him when she's captured."

  "No!" the emperor shouted, "I want her head for my collection."

  "Of course, my Lord, but to ensure his complete cooperation, it's been necessary to let him believe that he'll get his escaped slave back."

  "Tell him what you must, but her head comes to me. I will have my trophy for the embarrassment she has caused the Empire. He may have the rest of the husk if he wants it."

  "As you wish, my Lord."

  * * *

  Jenetta leaned back in her office chair after viewing the message from Admiral Moore. She had received approval for her proposals to repair the Milori ships and work on the development of the new defensive weapon, but the rest of the message was confusing. Admiral Vroman was already en route to Stewart to assume command at the end of her tour in one year and she was to proceed to Higgins where Admiral Holt would brief her on her next posting; however, she was to retain her brevetted rank during the trip. She had expected, or at least hoped, to receive orders directing her to revert to her former permanent commissioned officer rank of captain when her tour was up, and to proceed to a place, most likely the Mars shipbuilding facility, where she would assume command of a battleship.

  The more she thought about the message, the angrier she became. She couldn't force the Admiralty Board to give her a ship, but she had earned the right, hadn't she? She was the most highly decorated officer in Space Command. That had to mean something, didn't it? She had proven herself repeatedly. Just what did it take to get a ship anyway?

  "They're up to something," she said aloud, with only her two Jumakas as an audience. They purred contentedly from opposite sides of the room in response to the sound of her voice. The hundred-sixty pound animals, resembling Terran Jaguars with fur as black as space, had provided both companionship and protection since she had gotten them from an Alyysian trader years ago. When Jenetta walked through the station, the two cats walked at her sides, unleashed but never more than a half meter away. She was able to defend herself, but powerful people make powerful enemies. She slept better knowing that her pets, always alert in a heartbeat, were near the bed each night.

  Jenetta rose to prepare a mug of coffee at her beverage synthesizer, then carried her beverage to the SimWindow. She sipped at the hot liquid as she stood staring at the image of the port.

  "What aren't they telling me?" Jenetta asked herself aloud. "I've done everything they asked of me, and more." Jenetta reached out and adjusted the controls to zoom to the shipyard area where several GSC battleships floated at their moorings. As soon as all hull repairs were complete, engineers removed ships from the enclosed docks and moored them at normal shipyard docking piers. Looking at their external appearance, you couldn't tell that they had fought a life-or-death battle just months ago. Unseen hordes of engineers were currently hard at work inside the battleships now, completing internal repairs and testing or replacing equipment.

  In a few weeks the work would be finished and the ships would join the nineteen ships already on patrol in the hundreds of thousands of square light-years that was the territory assigned to the base commander of Stewart. When the sixty-five ships reassigned to Stewart arrived, Jenetta would finally feel that she could adequately cover the territory. Facing the center of the galaxy, the sectors assigned to Stewart were the most dangerous along the many thousand light-years bordering the perimeter of Galactic Alliance space. Stewart's sectors would be a tempting target to any of several warlike empires or dominions that might one day look to expand their territory towards the Galactic Alliance. The Milori was the only race to attempt it so far, but they might not be the last.

  Jenetta moved the control again and looked over at the other GSC ships. Dozens of EVA-suited engineers, specialists in hull repair, were working on several cruisers, with the assistance of hundreds of bots, and smaller groups were working on the several ships nearly destroyed in the battle. Months of structural framework repair effort were still required before the mounting of new exterior plates could even be considered for the latter group. Jenetta panned across to the rows of Milori ships tethered to the far wall. Even there she saw activity, but it was only the engineers, weapons people, and dozens of robots examining the ships, and documenting their construction and condition.

  Returning to her seat, the message from Admiral Moore receded quickly into the back of her mind as she dedicated herself to getting through a number of reports before her next appointment.

  * * *

  In early January, Space Command Supreme Headquarters on Earth forwarded a promotions list to Stewart. Personnel officers announced over six hundred promotions at a ceremony in the convention center. Quite a few were for personnel attached to the base, but most were shipboard postings to replace crewmembers lost during the engagement with the Milori. The largest concentration reestablished crew rosters on the two ships that suffered devastating losses. Many more posts existed than available people to fill them, but they managed a basic complement for each ship. New personnel would be arriving at Stewart over the next year to complete the staffing for individual vessels. The captain of each ship presented the promotions for his or her crewmembers, and Jenetta presented the promotions for station personnel.

  Commander DeWitt, Head of Weapons Research, received a promotion to Captain, as did the heads of several other sections. It was clear that Supreme Headquarters was creating an entire new level of bureaucracy beneath Jenetta to handle a lot more of the day-to-day matters she had previously handled personally. She hadn't requested the changes, or complained of the workload, so she felt sure the purpose was to establish the same formalized structure found on all other StratCom-One bases. Being fairly new, the command structure on Stewart had developed slowly and unevenly as base personnel arrived, but Admiral Vroman would expect it to be a fully matured operation when he arrived to assume command. Captain Gavin had advised Jenetta to expect such changes, and he was correct once again. Originally anticipating that she would resent losing direct control of each of the operational areas, she found it didn't bother her now that the end of her duty tour was growing closer. Until relieved by Admiral Vroman, she was still in command of—and therefore responsible for—everything that occurred within three-hundred light-years, or more, in almost every direction from the station.

  Jenetta's sisters, Christa and Eliza, received promotions from Lieutenant(jg) to Lieutenant, at the c
eremony.

  * * *

  Following a private celebration dinner in Jenetta's dining room, Jenetta, Christa, and Eliza continued the celebration in Jenetta's quarters. Billy had congratulated both his sisters at the ceremony, but his duties as the Captain of the Mentuhotep prevented him from attending the small party on this evening.

  "It's going to feel very strange having a different base commander after you leave, sis," Christa said. "I'm really going to miss the wonderful dinners in the base commander's dining room."

  "Perhaps you can trade your boyfriend, Adam, in on a two-star admiral," Eliza said jokingly, "and then continue to dine in the base commander's dining room each evening."

  Christa giggled. "No thanks. I don't want an octogenarian until I'm a little closer to that myself. And speaking of octogenarians, will Hugh be near Higgins when you get back, Jen?"

  Jenetta looked at her sharply and feigned anger. "You know that Hugh is only ten years older than I am. I don't want to hear any 'old man' jokes." Softening her voice she said, "I don't know where he'll be. He wanted to rejoin Space Command when we first called for retired line officers younger than the mandatory separation age to return to active service, but his company held him to the new four-year contract he signed. When he gets back to Higgins next week, the contract will be up and he's going to submit his application to re-join Space Command."

  "It's difficult having a boyfriend who only drops around every four years," Eliza said, "but it might be more difficult having a boyfriend you outrank by four grades."

  "Hugh was a lieutenant commander when he separated after twenty years of service. With the need for experienced line officers, he might be commissioned as a full commander, so when I revert to my permanent rank we'll only be one level apart. Hugh would surely have made captain by now if he hadn't retired when he did."

  "Will you revert to your permanent rank?" Christa asked.

  "Of course. I was only brevetted to a two star."