Reaction
© 2020 by Walter Reimer


Thumbnail art by  rabbi-tom


Captain k’Jen didn’t say a word as the shuttle undocked from the Terran freighter and headed back to the Kith. After a few fractions he said, “She was very considerate.”

Varan knew he was referring to her lover lowering the ship’s artigrav. “She studied our cultural database when she was with us.”

K’Jen turned his head to look at her. “Your suggestion?”

“Yes, sir. She told me that all of the exchange program applicants had some basic instruction, but I felt that our relationship required more.” The vir didn’t feel any embarrassment about telling her superior officer.

“Zvedosk.” The shuttle was approaching the Kith’s landing bay, and he said, “I must write a contact report, Commander. I would appreciate it if you did as well. Concentrate upon practical solutions to the tactical problem of Confederate raids on Colonial ships. Your report will be an annex to mine.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll prepare a list of options as soon as possible.”

The shuttle was grappled into its berth, and the landing bay pressurized. When the doors opened, Subcaptain v’Tal saluted. “Sir, there’s a message from the Fleet Commander, coded for you personally.”

“Very well,” k’Jen said as he returned the salute. “I’ll decode and read it in my office.” He glanced back at Varan. “As soon as possible,” and he left before she could respond.

“What’s that all about?” v’Tal asked, and her ears went up as Varan explained. “That’s . . . I never expected her to suggest something like that.”

“I thought that she might have gone insane,” Varan agreed, “but we’ll have to see what Fleet Command has to say. Excuse me,” she said respectfully, and headed for her office, sidestepping a maintenance crew.

Several days later the Kith was still in the This Far system as a Political Monitors diplomat visited the planet’s governor. The system’s own defense forces gave the Imperial ship a wide berth as they went about their business. The patrol cruiser had also interfaced with the system’s communications net, enabling the Weapons and Sensor officers to keep track of the traffic in the system.

The ship’s senior officers and department heads met in the conference room at the Captain’s request, and k’Jen said, “Three favi ago I sent a report to Second Fleet Command, offering some tactical suggestions to the Threats and Assessments Section.” He slipped a datapak into its receptacle on the table, and a holographic representation of Imperial-controlled Terran space appeared.

Some twenty small symbols appeared in the map, glowing a baleful shade of ‘danger’ light blue.

“These are the current cargo ship losses, according to the Inter-colonial Commerce Syndicate and confirmed by affiliated Mercantile Fellowships,” k’Jen said. The dots were spaced along the standard shipping lanes, with the resulting pattern vaguely resembling an obscene Ichoniik gesture. “More patrol cruisers are being allocated to safeguard the lanes, and the Syndicate has proposed a convoy system. The Fellowships have already endorsed the plan, and several of the shipping companies agree.” His tailspur came up and scratched the back of his neck.

The head of the Operations Department gestured for attention. “Are we being redeployed to this convoy duty, sir?”

“Ulant, Kurin. Our assignment is to assist the system’s defenses. We’ve been in action, and many of us still need some rest. A Supply ship is due in another five days to help with any remaining repairs, replenishment and recreation.”


***


The freighter had been carrying antimatter, and the Ublyudok’s shields had degraded somewhat from the impact of protecting the ship. Of course, the crew of the doomed ship had been allowed to scream for help.

Destroying it in mid-message was a nicely dramatic touch.

“Good work,” Nguyen said. It wasn’t what he was really after, though.

The stallion’s fingers stroked the arm of his chair, and the silhouette of a T-class freighter appeared on his repeater screen, along with its ID code and a picture of its captain, one Meredith d’Estcourt.