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Situation
© 2020 by Walter Reimer
“Beware . . . the Empire . . . “
The Indochinese Leopard rolled the words over in his mind as he gazed at the star map all around him.
The three words were the last words of Terra’s last Emperor, Markus the Second, as the old canine breathed his last. It had always been supposed that Markus was warning the furs at his bedside about the fate of the realm he had forged over the bodies of millions.
Not that it mattered. The instant that Markus’ heart stopped had been the signal for his entire dynasty to die. The Empire he’d created had collapsed within days of the news getting out.
The 3-D map that Felix al-Sakai stood in showed the entire Terran Sphere (really more an amorphous blob), with the Confederacy in blue and the Colonies in gray. The Kashlan Empire was shown in gold: it bordered Terran space only on one-third of its area, and the spikes of its military advance were in red.
There were fifteen such spikes now, the longest of which had encompassed Wangguan and gave the Kashlani an operational focus within the Confederacy itself. Scattered engagements between the Confed and the Colonies were breaking out well beyond the Imperial incursion as the Colonials reacted to the attack on Indawo.
With a slight gesture of his paw, Felix shrank the image so that he could see the entire map at once, still mulling over those three words.
Terra’s first contact with the Kashlani, while Markus still breathed, hadn’t started well. A colony ship fired upon an Imperial patrol, sparking a brief engagement that had settled into an armed truce. Tentative trade agreements had grown, leading to diplomatic ties and the officer exchange program that had ended with the Imperial-Ichoniik conflict nearly two years earlier.
Felix stroked his chin as his tail swished idly back and forth, thinking. There was a school of thought among the military, back in his father’s time, where it was believed that Markus hadn’t been expressing fear of losing his family’s gains, but of the Kashlani.
If that were the case, what had that old butcher seen?
He was still pondering that question as his staff entered the conference area. They took their seats and waited for him to speak.
Felix’s ears flicked and he smiled, as if startled and embarrassed. “Excuse me, I was woolgathering.” He sat down and said, “Intelligence report first.”
The minkess stood up and walked over to the map. She described a semicircle around the Core as she said, “Most of these engagements outside the Imperial penetration are small-scale. We haven’t seen any Colonial formation larger than a squadron, and most of them are armed merchanters. Analysis suggests that these are merely distractions from the main theater of action.”
She enlarged the map and pointed. “The Colonial First overpowered the guard ships we had in the Indawo System, and last reports indicate that they are demanding the surrender of Confed forces on the ground,” the minkess said, and pointed to a second area. “Hyperspace sensors have detected a wake moving toward Centauri.”
Felix scowled at that, and one admiral spoke up. “We were waiting for something like this, Your Highness. We are preparing a trap.” The civet smiled as the leopard nodded.
“That leaves us with this.” The Intelligence head enlarged the map further. “This is an Imperial formation advancing on Lalande. They’re not making a secret about it – “
“Standing on their heads and wiggling their ears, hey?” another admiral joked, and several of the others laughed. “Pretty obvious what they’re trying to do. They’re trying to draw our force there out to meet them.”
“It’s a reserve force,” a third officer pointed out.
A fourth growled, “We have more forces in a nearby sector. We can trap ‘em.”
“Then do it,” Felix said. “I want those two incursions dealt with. I also want to talk about taking the fight to the Empire.” Silence fell, and lengthened before he asked, “Ideas?”
“We really have no idea what the hyperspace terrain is on their side of the border,” the minkess said.
“Makes navigation difficult, but not impossible,” the fourth admiral countered. “We might send a task force or task group and attack their home system.” He bared his teeth. “A little payback for what they did at Sol, eh?”
The first flag officer to speak up said, “It’s a good time to try, when their eyes are on us. It might rattle them.”
Felix said, “Draw up a number of options, and get with our analysts. I want to know what high-value psychological targets are available.” He paused before snapping his fingers. “Check with Balakrishnan, on Downtime Station. She was based on their home world for over ten years. Maybe she has some insight.”
He bared his teeth in a grin. “Now, show me what you have planned to stop our immediate problems.”
© 2020 by Walter Reimer
“Beware . . . the Empire . . . “
The Indochinese Leopard rolled the words over in his mind as he gazed at the star map all around him.
The three words were the last words of Terra’s last Emperor, Markus the Second, as the old canine breathed his last. It had always been supposed that Markus was warning the furs at his bedside about the fate of the realm he had forged over the bodies of millions.
Not that it mattered. The instant that Markus’ heart stopped had been the signal for his entire dynasty to die. The Empire he’d created had collapsed within days of the news getting out.
The 3-D map that Felix al-Sakai stood in showed the entire Terran Sphere (really more an amorphous blob), with the Confederacy in blue and the Colonies in gray. The Kashlan Empire was shown in gold: it bordered Terran space only on one-third of its area, and the spikes of its military advance were in red.
There were fifteen such spikes now, the longest of which had encompassed Wangguan and gave the Kashlani an operational focus within the Confederacy itself. Scattered engagements between the Confed and the Colonies were breaking out well beyond the Imperial incursion as the Colonials reacted to the attack on Indawo.
With a slight gesture of his paw, Felix shrank the image so that he could see the entire map at once, still mulling over those three words.
Terra’s first contact with the Kashlani, while Markus still breathed, hadn’t started well. A colony ship fired upon an Imperial patrol, sparking a brief engagement that had settled into an armed truce. Tentative trade agreements had grown, leading to diplomatic ties and the officer exchange program that had ended with the Imperial-Ichoniik conflict nearly two years earlier.
Felix stroked his chin as his tail swished idly back and forth, thinking. There was a school of thought among the military, back in his father’s time, where it was believed that Markus hadn’t been expressing fear of losing his family’s gains, but of the Kashlani.
If that were the case, what had that old butcher seen?
He was still pondering that question as his staff entered the conference area. They took their seats and waited for him to speak.
Felix’s ears flicked and he smiled, as if startled and embarrassed. “Excuse me, I was woolgathering.” He sat down and said, “Intelligence report first.”
The minkess stood up and walked over to the map. She described a semicircle around the Core as she said, “Most of these engagements outside the Imperial penetration are small-scale. We haven’t seen any Colonial formation larger than a squadron, and most of them are armed merchanters. Analysis suggests that these are merely distractions from the main theater of action.”
She enlarged the map and pointed. “The Colonial First overpowered the guard ships we had in the Indawo System, and last reports indicate that they are demanding the surrender of Confed forces on the ground,” the minkess said, and pointed to a second area. “Hyperspace sensors have detected a wake moving toward Centauri.”
Felix scowled at that, and one admiral spoke up. “We were waiting for something like this, Your Highness. We are preparing a trap.” The civet smiled as the leopard nodded.
“That leaves us with this.” The Intelligence head enlarged the map further. “This is an Imperial formation advancing on Lalande. They’re not making a secret about it – “
“Standing on their heads and wiggling their ears, hey?” another admiral joked, and several of the others laughed. “Pretty obvious what they’re trying to do. They’re trying to draw our force there out to meet them.”
“It’s a reserve force,” a third officer pointed out.
A fourth growled, “We have more forces in a nearby sector. We can trap ‘em.”
“Then do it,” Felix said. “I want those two incursions dealt with. I also want to talk about taking the fight to the Empire.” Silence fell, and lengthened before he asked, “Ideas?”
“We really have no idea what the hyperspace terrain is on their side of the border,” the minkess said.
“Makes navigation difficult, but not impossible,” the fourth admiral countered. “We might send a task force or task group and attack their home system.” He bared his teeth. “A little payback for what they did at Sol, eh?”
The first flag officer to speak up said, “It’s a good time to try, when their eyes are on us. It might rattle them.”
Felix said, “Draw up a number of options, and get with our analysts. I want to know what high-value psychological targets are available.” He paused before snapping his fingers. “Check with Balakrishnan, on Downtime Station. She was based on their home world for over ten years. Maybe she has some insight.”
He bared his teeth in a grin. “Now, show me what you have planned to stop our immediate problems.”
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Leopard
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 50.3 kB
Perhaps one emperor showed the other emperor just what type of meat grinder they had at the ready if he was ever foolish enough to try sticking his paw where it didn't belong.
In any battle information is king, followed by communications - and this idiot has too little of both. He and his mother before him did far too much whistling in the dark, and when the lights finally come on he'll wish he'd stayed quietly hiding under his bed.
In any battle information is king, followed by communications - and this idiot has too little of both. He and his mother before him did far too much whistling in the dark, and when the lights finally come on he'll wish he'd stayed quietly hiding under his bed.
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