Defense
© 2020 by Walter Reimer
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rabbi-tom
“Are you certain that you feel all right?” Kirian asked, his tail stroking Varan’s back fur. She was seated on the edge of the bed.
She looked back at the kam still lying on the bed, and her tail snaked out and wrapped around his. “Yes. I haven’t had any dreams in a while.” It was the truth. Narat had certified her fit for full duty the day before, ten days after her nightmares had been reported. She wasn’t alone, either; perhaps two dozen shlani were experiencing combat stress, including the Command-Second.
There were times when an eidetic memory was a curse, not a blessing.
She gently untangled her tail from Kirian’s and stood up. “We go on duty shortly,” she said. “Would you share a shower with me?”
The kam smiled as his penis stirred. “I would like that.” He glanced at the horolog. “And we have a little time.”
Varan smiled. “Yes, we do.”
Afterward, they took turns drying each other off and after getting into their uniforms Kirian remarked, “I heard a rumor two days ago.”
“Ulnt?”
“That Subcaptain v’Tal is transferring.”
Varan clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth in disbelief. “Where is she going?”
“The rumor suggests that another ship needs a captain, so she will be promoted into the post.”
“That’s very interesting.” The vir used her tail to shrug as they left her cabin. V’Tal’s departure would allow a promotion from among the department heads, and she briefly thought about who might have the seniority and qualifications for the position.
As they headed for the lift, the lights in the corridor abruptly turned light blue, and ears perked at the emergency alarms. “Step One Alert?” Kirian gasped.
“Get to your station, Kirian,” Varan said as she broke into a run for her alert locker. Once she was in her environment suit she headed for her post in the auxiliary command center.
She entered the compartment and saluted Subcaptain v’Tal as she sat down. “G’Raf, cleared for full duty, ma’am.”
The vir smiled. “Good to see you, Commander. Communications received an alert from Magus Station’s traffic control officer. An unidentified contact in hyperspace,” and the tactical plot appeared, showing the contact relative to the Kith’s position. It was on the far side of the planetary system.
They heard Captain k’Jen’s voice, in the main command center. “Weapons, assume control from Pilot. Intercept course.” The tactical plot reoriented, showing a snaking path through hyperspace. The Sensor Officer smothered a chuckle; the course looked vaguely like a shlan’s tail describing a sexual act. He straightened in his seat as Varan glanced at him.
K’Jen’s voice dropped to a familiar growl. “Charge weapons. Get us there, Weaponeer.”
“Yes, sir.” The display showed the power surge as space tore open around the cruiser.
“Magus Station reports the system’s patrol craft are vectoring to assist us.”
“Very well.” Varan had seen the system’s defense force, and understood the hint of contempt that edged the Captain’s voice.
“Power curve indicates a Terran ship, light cruiser,” Sensors reported. “Possibly Witch class.”
“Older ship, then,” v’Tal remarked, half to herself.
“Approaching the contact,” the Weapons Officer reported.
“Force them out of hyperspace, maneuver T-5.”
“Yes, sir.” The display showed the Kith approaching the contact, coming up behind it in a long, looping course until the two ship’s hyperfields came within a bevek. The unknown then dropped out of hyperspace.
The Kith followed, dropping back in order to evade if the ship suddenly attacked. “Terran ship, light cruiser, Witch class,” Sensors announced. “No beacon.”
“One of our Confederate friends,” k’Jen said. “Attack pattern – what is it doing?”
Varan stared at the tactical display. The Terran ship was ignoring the Kashlanin cruiser, instead charging straight at the system defense craft like a korip into a flock of yevechi. The smaller ships scattered as one of their number exploded.
“Pursuit course,” the Captain said, “attack pattern J-4. Target weapons and engines. Subcaptain.”
V’Tal replied, “Captain.”
“Boarding party in armor to the launch bay. I have questions for their captain.” V’Tal stood and left the compartment; as the highest-ranking shlan left in the compartment, Varan took her place in the captain’s seat. The Kith leaped after the Terran ship, missiles ripping holes in its shields. The Confed cruiser responded by firing missiles of its own at the Imperial warship while still pursuing the smaller craft.
The Weaponeer practically danced in the tactical plot’s focus, the ship mimicking his actions as it kept firing. “Sensors, I detect a nineteen percent power falloff.”
“Correct. Their reactors are having difficulty keeping their shields and weapons at full powe – their shields have collapsed.”
“Raking fire,” and the secondaries joined the fight, ripping away at the Terran ship’s hull and destroying its shield grid as well as its hyperfield emitters. “Shields crippled, Captain.”
“Boarding party?”
“Ready, sir.”
“Launch.” Varan spared a thought for the party and the Command-Second before concentrating on the battle.
Something seemed wrong. “Captain.”
“Yes, Commander?”
“Their attack on the system forces may be a ruse to draw our attention.”
“Well thought. Sensors?”
“Nothing on our sensors, or on Traffic Control’s. It’s strange. The enemy’s engines are damaged; power reduced to emergency life-support. Weapons down.”
“Secondaries prioritized for antimissile defense,” Weapons said. “Primaries on hot standby.”
“Very well. Standoff position. V’Tal, boarding maneuvers.” The small craft began to approach the Terran ship. “Sensors, be aware for signs they’re self-destructing.”
“Understood, Captain.”
Varan’s nose started to itch, but with her e-suit’s visor down she couldn’t scratch. She tried to distract herself by watching the approach of the boarding party on her repeater screen, occasionally glancing at the data displayed in the tactical plot.
“Communications, send to the system forces. Have them maintain a safe distance, and to not attack while we conduct boarding operations.”
“Yes, sir. They report two ships lost, three heavily damaged.”
The repeater showed the boarding craft making contact with the ship’s damaged hull at a weak point near the reactors. Boarding doctrine demanded securing the power plant first and severing the command links so that they could not be overloaded to rob the boarders of their prize. Varan had been on a boarding action in the simulator, and it had been a bloody affair.
The Command-Second was usually the one to lead the actions if the Captain wasn’t incapacitated or killed.
Atmosphere vented as the boarders breached the hull and entered, the repeater showing the view from v’Tal’s helmet camera. “Emergency lights are on – “ There was a bright flash as a simple laser swept across the camera’s field of view in an attempt to blind the boarding party, and weapons fire began.
“Communications, does the Terran ship have the ability to speak with us?”
“Possibly, Captain.”
“Send this: ‘You have lost. Surrender. I will not ask twice.”
“Captain, contact in hyperspace, intercept course!” the Weaponeer said.
“Move us away from the target, prepare for evasive maneuvers. Beacon?”
“Just activated. Confed ship, light cruiser of Witch class, name Bastard.”
***
Tariano Nguyen’s lips pulled back from his teeth, cresting like a wolf as he looked at his repeater. “Ling, you fucking idiot,” he growled, and a few of the bridge crew exchanged grins. “Just like a damned Colonial to go in leading with his fucking snout.” The captain of the Mudak was one of several Colonial officers who had stayed loyal to Terra, and was determined to prove his loyalty at every opportunity.
Asshole; the ship was aptly named for its captain’s stupidity.
“Is that Critter ship damaged?”
“No sir,” his sensor tech replied. “From the debris, Mudak went after the system defenses first.”
The stallion thumped a fist on the arm of his chair. “Fucking idiot,” he repeated before taking a breath. “Okay, let’s get ready to kill some Critters. Weapons and shields, attack pattern F.”
The Ublyudok darted forward to engage the Kith.
© 2020 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
rabbi-tom“Are you certain that you feel all right?” Kirian asked, his tail stroking Varan’s back fur. She was seated on the edge of the bed.
She looked back at the kam still lying on the bed, and her tail snaked out and wrapped around his. “Yes. I haven’t had any dreams in a while.” It was the truth. Narat had certified her fit for full duty the day before, ten days after her nightmares had been reported. She wasn’t alone, either; perhaps two dozen shlani were experiencing combat stress, including the Command-Second.
There were times when an eidetic memory was a curse, not a blessing.
She gently untangled her tail from Kirian’s and stood up. “We go on duty shortly,” she said. “Would you share a shower with me?”
The kam smiled as his penis stirred. “I would like that.” He glanced at the horolog. “And we have a little time.”
Varan smiled. “Yes, we do.”
Afterward, they took turns drying each other off and after getting into their uniforms Kirian remarked, “I heard a rumor two days ago.”
“Ulnt?”
“That Subcaptain v’Tal is transferring.”
Varan clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth in disbelief. “Where is she going?”
“The rumor suggests that another ship needs a captain, so she will be promoted into the post.”
“That’s very interesting.” The vir used her tail to shrug as they left her cabin. V’Tal’s departure would allow a promotion from among the department heads, and she briefly thought about who might have the seniority and qualifications for the position.
As they headed for the lift, the lights in the corridor abruptly turned light blue, and ears perked at the emergency alarms. “Step One Alert?” Kirian gasped.
“Get to your station, Kirian,” Varan said as she broke into a run for her alert locker. Once she was in her environment suit she headed for her post in the auxiliary command center.
She entered the compartment and saluted Subcaptain v’Tal as she sat down. “G’Raf, cleared for full duty, ma’am.”
The vir smiled. “Good to see you, Commander. Communications received an alert from Magus Station’s traffic control officer. An unidentified contact in hyperspace,” and the tactical plot appeared, showing the contact relative to the Kith’s position. It was on the far side of the planetary system.
They heard Captain k’Jen’s voice, in the main command center. “Weapons, assume control from Pilot. Intercept course.” The tactical plot reoriented, showing a snaking path through hyperspace. The Sensor Officer smothered a chuckle; the course looked vaguely like a shlan’s tail describing a sexual act. He straightened in his seat as Varan glanced at him.
K’Jen’s voice dropped to a familiar growl. “Charge weapons. Get us there, Weaponeer.”
“Yes, sir.” The display showed the power surge as space tore open around the cruiser.
“Magus Station reports the system’s patrol craft are vectoring to assist us.”
“Very well.” Varan had seen the system’s defense force, and understood the hint of contempt that edged the Captain’s voice.
“Power curve indicates a Terran ship, light cruiser,” Sensors reported. “Possibly Witch class.”
“Older ship, then,” v’Tal remarked, half to herself.
“Approaching the contact,” the Weapons Officer reported.
“Force them out of hyperspace, maneuver T-5.”
“Yes, sir.” The display showed the Kith approaching the contact, coming up behind it in a long, looping course until the two ship’s hyperfields came within a bevek. The unknown then dropped out of hyperspace.
The Kith followed, dropping back in order to evade if the ship suddenly attacked. “Terran ship, light cruiser, Witch class,” Sensors announced. “No beacon.”
“One of our Confederate friends,” k’Jen said. “Attack pattern – what is it doing?”
Varan stared at the tactical display. The Terran ship was ignoring the Kashlanin cruiser, instead charging straight at the system defense craft like a korip into a flock of yevechi. The smaller ships scattered as one of their number exploded.
“Pursuit course,” the Captain said, “attack pattern J-4. Target weapons and engines. Subcaptain.”
V’Tal replied, “Captain.”
“Boarding party in armor to the launch bay. I have questions for their captain.” V’Tal stood and left the compartment; as the highest-ranking shlan left in the compartment, Varan took her place in the captain’s seat. The Kith leaped after the Terran ship, missiles ripping holes in its shields. The Confed cruiser responded by firing missiles of its own at the Imperial warship while still pursuing the smaller craft.
The Weaponeer practically danced in the tactical plot’s focus, the ship mimicking his actions as it kept firing. “Sensors, I detect a nineteen percent power falloff.”
“Correct. Their reactors are having difficulty keeping their shields and weapons at full powe – their shields have collapsed.”
“Raking fire,” and the secondaries joined the fight, ripping away at the Terran ship’s hull and destroying its shield grid as well as its hyperfield emitters. “Shields crippled, Captain.”
“Boarding party?”
“Ready, sir.”
“Launch.” Varan spared a thought for the party and the Command-Second before concentrating on the battle.
Something seemed wrong. “Captain.”
“Yes, Commander?”
“Their attack on the system forces may be a ruse to draw our attention.”
“Well thought. Sensors?”
“Nothing on our sensors, or on Traffic Control’s. It’s strange. The enemy’s engines are damaged; power reduced to emergency life-support. Weapons down.”
“Secondaries prioritized for antimissile defense,” Weapons said. “Primaries on hot standby.”
“Very well. Standoff position. V’Tal, boarding maneuvers.” The small craft began to approach the Terran ship. “Sensors, be aware for signs they’re self-destructing.”
“Understood, Captain.”
Varan’s nose started to itch, but with her e-suit’s visor down she couldn’t scratch. She tried to distract herself by watching the approach of the boarding party on her repeater screen, occasionally glancing at the data displayed in the tactical plot.
“Communications, send to the system forces. Have them maintain a safe distance, and to not attack while we conduct boarding operations.”
“Yes, sir. They report two ships lost, three heavily damaged.”
The repeater showed the boarding craft making contact with the ship’s damaged hull at a weak point near the reactors. Boarding doctrine demanded securing the power plant first and severing the command links so that they could not be overloaded to rob the boarders of their prize. Varan had been on a boarding action in the simulator, and it had been a bloody affair.
The Command-Second was usually the one to lead the actions if the Captain wasn’t incapacitated or killed.
Atmosphere vented as the boarders breached the hull and entered, the repeater showing the view from v’Tal’s helmet camera. “Emergency lights are on – “ There was a bright flash as a simple laser swept across the camera’s field of view in an attempt to blind the boarding party, and weapons fire began.
“Communications, does the Terran ship have the ability to speak with us?”
“Possibly, Captain.”
“Send this: ‘You have lost. Surrender. I will not ask twice.”
“Captain, contact in hyperspace, intercept course!” the Weaponeer said.
“Move us away from the target, prepare for evasive maneuvers. Beacon?”
“Just activated. Confed ship, light cruiser of Witch class, name Bastard.”
***
Tariano Nguyen’s lips pulled back from his teeth, cresting like a wolf as he looked at his repeater. “Ling, you fucking idiot,” he growled, and a few of the bridge crew exchanged grins. “Just like a damned Colonial to go in leading with his fucking snout.” The captain of the Mudak was one of several Colonial officers who had stayed loyal to Terra, and was determined to prove his loyalty at every opportunity.
Asshole; the ship was aptly named for its captain’s stupidity.
“Is that Critter ship damaged?”
“No sir,” his sensor tech replied. “From the debris, Mudak went after the system defenses first.”
The stallion thumped a fist on the arm of his chair. “Fucking idiot,” he repeated before taking a breath. “Okay, let’s get ready to kill some Critters. Weapons and shields, attack pattern F.”
The Ublyudok darted forward to engage the Kith.
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Alien (Other)
Size 71 x 120px
File Size 47.4 kB
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