Intelligent Conversation

©2019 by Walter Reimer


Thumbnail art by  rabbi-tom


“Dhav tis Thorfass’n . . . “

Varan sat back in her seat, appalled.

The Terran ship had been boarded, of course, led by the Command-Second and a section of shlani in boarding armor and weaponry and followed by most of the medically cross-trained crew. Varan herself hadn’t been part of the boarding party, but as the Duty Officer she had access to the datafeeds and watched her repeater screens absorbedly. No one noted that she was distracted, since Captain k’Jen and the rest of the command crew were also watching.

The Madinat al-Nujum was a heavy cruiser, with a nominal crew of several hundred Terrans. It had been heavily damaged by whatever ship or ships had attacked it.

The corpses littering the corridors indicated that something deeper and brighter had happened.

Commander Sirivati, the lupine officer that she’d spoken to, was still in her seat on the bridge when Subcaptain v’Tal entered the compartment. The four crewmen at their stations immediately put up their paws, but lowered them as the vir asked them if they were injured. Two medics immediately went to the wolf and started attending to her injuries.

She indicated that she was the highest-ranking officer still alive.

Reports began coming in from other parts of the ship. The hyperdrive was in poor shape, and Captain k’Jen ordered the Terran ship’s engines shut down before they overloaded. Life support was still functioning, but areas near the holes blasted in the hull had no artigrav. Irradiated patches on the hull coating suggested that antishield missiles had been used.

Of the three hundred fifty crew, one hundred and nine were dead, including the Captain and several members of the command staff. When he’d heard of the number of Terrans aboard, the Captain had sent out a call for more assistance.

While shuttles started transferring wounded Terrans to the Kith, a sensor alarm hooted. Varan blinked, glanced at the display and said, “Captain, two Imperial cruisers approaching, intercept vectors.”

“They signal that they’re responding to our call for help, Sir,” Communications added.

Gartabin k’Jen gestured his understanding. “Advise them to have their Surgeons be ready to accept Terran casualties and guests.”

“’Guests,’ Sir?”

He eyed the kam. “They’ve asked for help and asylum. What would you call them?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Several days later two more ships arrived in the area. One was an engineering vessel, detailed to patch the Terran ship up and get in a fit shape for towing to the nearest base. The other was a small personnel transport, which signaled the Kith and asked for Captain k’Jen.

The kam had been frequenting the command compartment during the past few days as he and the other captains had conferred while their subordinates helped the Terrans. He sat back in his chair and accepted the message.

The screen displayed a kam in the Army’s mud-brown uniform, a red stripe running down each sleeve. He saluted, left hand to right chest, displaying his rank. “Colonel n’Kedhe, Intelligence, Captain. We’re here to debrief your guests and crew.”

“Understood,” k’Jen said amiably. A repeater screen near his feet displayed the kam’s credentials. “This matter is now classified?”

“Yes, Captain,” the Army officer replied. A code appeared on the repeater, and k’Jen’s feline eyes widened perceptibly.

“Very well. I’ll notify my crew.”

“Thank you, Sir. I will also notify the other captains. Is Commander Sirivati aboard your ship?”

K’Jen gestured affirmation. “She is still in the Infirmary. The Surgeon-Mistress reports that her injuries were severe, but she’s responding well to regenerative therapy. She may be fit to answer your questions.”

N’Kedhe smiled. “Thank you, Captain. I look forward to meeting you and your crew.”

“Thank you.” The image vanished, and k’Jen touched the controls on his chair that slaved all in-ship communications to him. There was a three-note chime, and the command crew looked at him expectantly. He sat up and said, “All personnel, attend please.

“By direction of the High Admiral, this incident and all information about it is now classified AZ2. You are required to cooperate fully with Intelligence, and surrender all notes and recordings. That is all,” and he relinquished control back to the Communications Officer.

Varan began collecting all of the files from the various command stations. All of it, reports, sensor logs and video recordings from the boarding parties, would be collated and transmitted under encryption to the Intelligence ship.

The security classification was very high, and therefore she wouldn’t tell Meredith a thing about it.