Castle Vroman

by Thomas DePrima

  Commander Frank Fannon and his first officer, Lt. Commander Mojica, joined Jenetta, Lt. Commander Gallagher, and Lt. Commander Ashraf in her briefing room aboard the Colorado.

  "The shipbuilding facilities are our principal targets on the mission. We must prevent them from reconstructing their fleets. Should we fail in our overall mission, we will at least make sure Space Command won't face a larger force of Milori-built ships then that which presently exists."

  "Is another Space Command task force being readied, Admiral?" Commander Fannon asked. "One with ships using a conventional FTL drive?"

  "Not to my knowledge, but if we fail, such a mission will become a necessity. We know that Maxxiloth has two primary warship construction facilities, one in orbit at each of the two planets neighboring Milor. The shipyard at the third planet builds battleships, cruisers, and frigates, while the yard at the fifth planet in the system concentrates on building destroyers. They appear to be about equal in size. The Yangtze's computer contains all the information amassed from the captured Milori ships, so you can study it when you return and ask any questions you have. The Colorado will take the yard at the third planet, and the Yangtze will tackle the yard at the fifth. We'll coordinate our attacks and begin our first runs at the same time. I expect, but have no way of ascertaining in advance, that the yards will be unguarded or lightly guarded. Amassing the armada sent to Stewart had to have drained their resources to dangerously low levels. I'm sure Maxxiloth ordered every available ship be sent against us after the embarrassing defeat of the first effort. And being eleven hundred light-years from Stewart would have made them believe they had several years to rebuild their fleet before we could respond if they were unsuccessful."

  "They're in for a mighty big surprise," Lt. Commander Mojica said, smiling.

  "Let us hope," Jenetta said. "Our goal at the shipyards is nothing less than total destruction. We'll start with the ships closest to completion to ensure the Milori can't deploy them against us if they're almost ready for space trials. We can't depend upon them being unarmed; just slam them and slam them hard. I expect the facilities will have laser weapon protection, but that doesn't concern us because we're impervious; however, we must be concerned with torpedo launching capability and minefields. I'd prefer that we not split our force, but surprise will give us a substantial edge. If you run into serious trouble, such as an unexpected assembly of warships, break off your attack and make for our position. We'll do a lot better working together against a larger force."

  "And where should we go after destroying the shipbuilding facilities?" Commander Fannon asked.

  "Take up position around Milor, outside the minefield."

  "Minefield?"

  "Yes, there's a minefield that completely surrounds the planet."

  "How do we get past that?"

  "We don't have to. It's never been my intention to invade the planet. For one thing, we're hardly equipped for such an endeavor. Between us, we only have a single company of Marines aboard. For another, it wouldn't buy us anything. Our goal is to bottle up the Milori, and a minefield is almost as much of an obstacle to escape as it is a barrier against invasion. We can still direct laser fire through the minefield and launch torpedoes against selected ground targets."

  Commander Fannon smiled. "That works for me."

  "As soon as we begin our attacks on the shipyards, Maxxiloth is going to start screaming for his warships to protect him from us. It'll be easier to let them come to us rather than us chasing them all over the grid. If they just come running without stopping to form a task force, we'll take them on as they arrive. If they come as a force, I'll make a determination whether to fight or cut and run."

  "Run?"

  "Temporarily. We'll disappear so fast they won't know what happened to us. We can circle around and come at them again when they disperse to protect different resources. I'd put our ships up against any Milori vessel, or even any five of them, but I hesitate to take on an entire task force by ourselves at this point."

  "The Milori Empire is huge. It may take months, or even years, for all ships to return home."

  "Yes, I don't expect this to be over in a couple of months; it'll probably be a long-term effort. I've prepared a list of targets that will receive our attention over the next few months as we get a better feel for the situation. There's still a lot we don't know, but I believe we all recognize and agree that shutting down his warship production is a vital first step."

  Commander Fannon nodded.

  "That's the general plan. I'll continue to refine it as we gather more intel. Any questions?"

  "Do we know anything about the minefield around the planet," Lt. Commander Mojica asked.

  "The intel we've assembled from captured files tells us the mines are a standard, self-aligning type with the same payload as their standard torpedoes. When a ship receives permission to enter orbit, they deactivate the mines at the entry point and move them aside to create an opening. The process takes about ten minutes to open or close, so we'll know if any ships on the surface are preparing to come out after us in sufficient time to confront them."

  The meeting came to an abrupt end with a ship-wide announcement of General Quarters. The senior staff of both ships rushed from the briefing room.

  "What is it?" Jenetta said to Lt. Cruz, the bridge officer in charge.

  "Contact astern, Admiral, coming directly towards us. I've ordered the ship sealed and the airlock retracted."

  "The ships are separated," the tactical officer confirmed.

  "Helm, bring us around," Jenetta said. "Com, contact the Yangtze and have them turn to face the approaching ship but hold their position."

  "The contact is slowing," the tactical officer said.

  "Can we identify it?"

  "It's large, either a freighter or warship. It's not emitting a Space Command transponder signature. It appears to be Milori. Confirming that. It's a Milori cruiser and it appears to be heavily damaged, Admiral."

  "Hail it."

  After several seconds, the com operator said, "It's not acknowledging our hail, Admiral."

  Facing the front of the ship, Jenetta said, "Put me on."

  "You're on, Admiral."

  "Attention Milori cruiser. This is the GSC Colorado. You're in Galactic Alliance space. I assume you're the cruiser that managed to escape our ships last year. Turn your ship around and proceed to Stewart for war internment, or face destruction."

  The monitor image changed to show the image of a Milora. Damage to the bridge was evident behind him. "This is the Xiouthet, a proud ship in service to the Emperor. We don't take orders from toy Space Command ships. Clear the way or we'll plow through you."

  "I've been told that your species is intelligent, but it appears you don't learn lessons any better than the Tsgardi. You had your chance," Jenetta said to him, then looked at the com operator and gave a signal to cut the connection. "Tactical, put two torpedoes into his bow."

  Two torpedoes rushed from the Colorado. The Milora may have regretted his bluster as he tried to avoid the torpedoes. With the ship so badly damaged he didn't have a chance of getting out of the way. His laser gunners tried to hit the torpedoes, but didn't come close. Both torpedoes struck the bow and opened huge holes.

  "Helm, take us around to his stern. Laser gunners, target his engines and temporal field generator. I don't want that ship ever going anywhere again under its own power."

  As the Colorado moved around the cruiser, laser gunners on the Xiouthet targeted the Colorado, but the shots had no effect on the Dakinium hull. The laser gunners aboard the Colorado ripped the Xiouthet's temporal field generator and sub-light engines to pieces.

  "That's sufficient," Jenetta said. "Hold your fire. Helm, move the ship a billion kilometers away, speed Light-37. Com, tell the Yangtze to follow so we can reestablish our link. I'm sure Commander Fannon wants to get back aboard his ship." She looked at the Commander, who smiled and nodded.

  "What about the Milori cruiser, Admi
ral?" Commander Fannon asked.

  "They're not going anywhere now and we don't have room for prisoners. They'll no doubt have a few shuttles and fighters on board, so they can evacuate the crew to a nearby planet if they can find a suitable one, but they'd only be marooning themselves. We'll be keeping the Milori so busy they won't have time to send any ships back this way. When our supply ships reach this point in eight or nine months, they can pick them up. If their ship won't hold atmosphere they'll have to use their escape pods and stasis beds. They had their chance to surrender. It's one less ship we'll have to worry about later."

  "I meant, 'Won't they alert Milor about our presence so close to the border?'"

  "We're still in our own space, eight-hundred light-years from Milor, and the cruiser hasn't observed anything unusual except the resistance of our hull to laser fire. We'll put some distance between us before engaging Light-9375. Do you have any other questions about the attack plan?"

  "Nothing right now, Admiral. I'd like to have a chance to study the data about the target."

  "Fine. Contact me if you have any further questions. We'll proceed together to the designated deployment point and then separate to proceed to our targets. That's all, Commander."

  "Aye, Admiral."

  * * *

  A few days later, Jenetta arrived on the bridge in the morning and learned that an incoming message from the Gondusans was waiting for her. She walked directly to her briefing room, prepared a cup of coffee and sat down to view the message.

  "Greetings, Admiral," a Gondusan said as soon as its image appeared on the screen. Although she'd heard they always carried their fashion to excess—and the more powerful the person, the more excessive the clothing—Jenetta was unable to suppress a smirk over the garish costume the message sender was wearing. She was glad it was just a message. Almost as bad was the gaudy makeup that, to Jenetta's eyes, made the Gondusan look like a circus clown and left her wondering if the Gondusan was a male or female. Of course, they could be celebrating some sort of special event like Mardi Gras and, however unlikely, the message sender may not have had time to change before recording the transmission. As she watched the message, Jenetta wondered if the Milori hated humans so much because their territory was ringed by species having hominine characteristics. Gondusans were very much Hominidae in appearance. Even the baboon-like Tsgardi were closer to hominid form than a Milora.

  "I'm Senator Prime Curlekurt Emmeticus. Our planetary senate has voted to join your coalition of partners in an effort to eliminate the Milori scourge from the galaxy forever. We have dispatched our fleet of warships with orders to attack the Milori defensive perimeter at a number of points. We trust this will result in Milor turning its attention in our direction and give you an opportunity to strike at their very heart. We cannot hold out indefinitely against the might of the Milori military and hope your attack will convince them to break off their assault on our ships before we are destroyed. We trust you to do as your government has promised and return our former territories once you've destroyed Milor.

  "Curlekurt Emmeticus, Senator Prime of Gondusa, Planetary Senate, Gondusa, message complete."

  Jenetta chuckled. She hoped she was never required to meet in person with Curly or a delegation from Gondusa. She might not be able to keep a straight face.

  * * *

  On September 1st, two hours before the third watch began, while the ship was still over three hundred light-years from Milor, the com operator contacted Jenetta in her quarters.

  "Admiral, this is Chief Greenwalt. I've been listening to a Gondusan media broadcast and they just broke in with a special announcement. Their government is reporting that their military has attacked Milori bases and outposts at multiple locations along their border. The announcer says the government is vowing to take back the territory stolen from them by Maxxiloth and his great-grandfather."

  "Really? See if you can find any confirmation of that announcement. And check the Milori military frequencies to see if there has been an increase in traffic."

  "Aye, Admiral. Goodnight."

  "Goodnight, Chief. Thank you."

  * * *

  Over the next few days, talk of war filled Gondusan broadcasts, but there wasn't a single acknowledging statement from the Milori. It's understandable that a totalitarian society already in an announced state of war with a powerful enemy might wish to suppress such information. Populations in such societies are manipulated by the careful dissemination of information. Also not surprising was the fact that traffic on the IDS frequencies used by the Milori military, although encrypted, increased by a factor of twelve.

  Each day brought the Colorado and the Yangtze twenty-five light-years closer to Milor.

  * * *

  Perhaps it took them longer to get their forces organized and positioned, or perhaps it was fear that the Gondusans would be awarded their territory if they failed to participate, but the Hudeeracs finally commenced action against the Milori. On September 4th, the com operator picked up broadcasts announcing that Hudeerac forces had attacked Milori ships and outposts.

  * * *

  Maxxiloth smashed a gripper claw down onto the table. "What's going on? Why have these sheep suddenly decided to roar?"

  "They've no doubt learned of our defeat by the Galactic Alliance and feel we've been weakened so much they can push us back to the old borders," the Minister of Defense offered. He didn't add that it was what he had feared when Maxxiloth had insisted on sending every possible ship to Stewart.

  "We must crush these attackers at once. Perhaps it's time to finally finish off the Hudeerac scum."

  Exalted Lord Space Marshall Berquyth said, "We easily pushed the Hudeeracs back and annexed their territory, but there's nowhere left for them to run. Their backs are against the wall and they'll fight to the last warrior now. We've estimated that we'll lose between twenty and twenty-five ships if we move in to finish the Hudeeracs, which is why we haven't done it before. Controlling that one small solar system wasn't worth the loss."

  "And now we're paying the price for that decision," the minister countered.

  "We're in no position to sacrifice any ships," Berquyth said. "We must wait until we've rebuilt the fleet. In an annual's time we'll be in a much better position to finish them off, but for now we must simply fight a delaying action."

  "And while we're doing that, the Hudeeracs will be destroying our bases and outposts."

  "I remind you that of our six fleets, only one- hundred twenty-three warships remain."

  "I know. And eighty-eight of them can't get out of their own way. That's the only reason they weren't sent to fight Space Command. At least the other thirty-five are newly commissioned ships from our latest designs."

  "The eighty-eight may be slow, but they represent a formidable fighting force. Their laser weapons and torpedoes are every bit as powerful as those on our newest ships, and I guarantee that no Hudeerac or Gondusan is going to hang around for long when they show up."

  "Enough of this quibbling," Maxxiloth shouted. "Order half our ships to put down the Gondusans and send the other half to squash the Hudeeracs."

  "But my Lord," the Minister of Defense said, "that will leave the rest of the Empire defenseless. As it is, most of our ships are already hundreds of solars away. If you order all ships to the outer borders with the Hudeeracs and Gondusans, they'll be six to seven hundred solars away."

  "In less than sixty solars we'll be launching almost two dozen new warships. They will provide protection for Milor and the heart of our empire."

  "But what if we have problems between now and then?"

  "Are you going to tell me now that the Tsgardi have launched an attack?"

  "No, my Lord, but even that is possible. The jackals seem to be sniffing for blood."

  Maxxiloth mulled the matter over in his head. "If we don't put down these rebellions, and put them down hard, the jackals will indeed attack. We must crush the attackers quickly and decisively. After one enemy falls, our f
orces will combine to crush the other. See to it, Berquyth."

  "Yes, my Lord."

  Maxxiloth stood and strode angrily from the room.

  After the door had closed behind him, the Minister of Defense looked at Berquyth and said accusingly, "You didn't tell him."

  "No, he has enough on his mind."

  "You don't think it important that one of our cruisers was stopped and incapacitated by two small Space Command ships— ships seemingly impervious to laser cannon fire?"

  "It occurred inside Galactic Alliance space, over eight hundred solars from here at our top speed. Our ship was already badly damaged from its encounter with three SC warships and incapable of putting up a fight. After the attack, the small ships left at Light-37. You think they pose a danger to us here?"

  "The important fact is that they're impervious to laser fire. What if all Space Command ships have this new outer covering?"

  "They don't. You saw the image logs of the attack on the Lisbon. The ship had just two layers of tritanium plating, like our ships."

  "The Lisbon was an old ship, from their rear areas. I've heard that their newer battleships have three, extra-thick layers."

  "But they can still be punctured by laser weapons."

  "The fact that the Galactic Alliance has perfected almost indestructible hull plating is significant. The Emperor must be told."

  "He has enough to think about right now. He'll be told at a more appropriate time, and I will decide when that time arrives."

  * * *

  Jenetta ordered the Colorado and the Yangtze to a full stop when they were five light-years from the Milor system. They were ahead of schedule and would lay over there for a day. Everyone was told to get as much rest as possible, but nervous tension prevented most from sleeping soundly. They were about to launch an attack in enemy territory, eleven-hundred light-years from the nearest Space Command base, and there was no one to come to their rescue if their ships were incapacitated.