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Replenishment
© 2021 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
Ahro
“Medical supplies, ten cases . . . ration packs . . . “ Meredith finished reading the requisition and signed off on it, the padd transferring the document to the cargo hold. Hui and the cargo handlers under the bear’s supervision started moving the listed quantities from the hold, using manipulators to transfer the cargo to a waiting shuttle. All around the A Quiet Life and the rest of the support flotilla, shuttles from the warships and transports moved about, collecting items to return to the fleet in orbit around Indawo.
One cargo ship, rather unflatteringly called the Milk Cow, was offloading food supplies and temporary shelters for the relief operation on the planet itself. The one shot from the monitor Mars Ultor had impressed upon the Confed troops that the Colonial admiral wasn’t going to balk at hitting a civilian population in order to get at the occupying force.
The Confedders had surrendered before the smoke cleared.
“Message from the Mtoto wa radi,” Jax said, and the main screen filled with the features of a Cape hunting dog wearing Colonial gray, with a lieutenant commander’s bars.
The golden palomino mare’s eyes lit up. “Nik? Nik, is that you?”
The canine blinked. “Merry? Holy Deus, it is you!” He grinned toothily and saluted. “Pardon me, Captain ma’am,” he said mockingly.
She gave him a middle finger in return, and they both laughed. “I thought you – that you were on the Rani,” Meredith said, amending what she’d been about to say hastily.
Kim Nkosazana shrugged. “Kodai started transferring Colonial officers out and replacing them with Confedders. I was one of the second lot to go. When things went to shit, I hired on with the Colonial Navy.” He glanced aside and asked, “A Quiet Life? I heard your ship was – “
“It was,” Meredith said, and her bridge crew chuckled. “Traded up for this one.”
“Great,” Kim said. “I’m sending you a list of stuff we need, and when we meet up I’m buying the drinks and we can tell each other lies.” That got him and the mare laughing again before he broke the connection. There was no sense in tying up message traffic just to get reacquainted; there would be ample time for that later.
“Friend of yours, Captain?” Jax asked without turning away from his main display and control console. More shuttles were approaching.
“Yeah,” Meredith replied, looking over the list that Nik had sent over and approving it. “Served aboard the Rani Anitra together. When they fought the shlani and lost, I thought he’d been killed.” She sniffed and blinked for a moment. “It’s great to see that he’s all right.”
Jax half-turned and gave her a sly look. “Going to ask him to sign up?”
The two engineers chuckled as Meredith stuck her tongue out at the rat. “Not on your life. He’d be a poor fit, and why are you asking? Wanting to leave?”
“Just needling you.” Jax went back to keeping an eye on the shuttles hovering around the freighter.
© 2021 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
Ahro“Medical supplies, ten cases . . . ration packs . . . “ Meredith finished reading the requisition and signed off on it, the padd transferring the document to the cargo hold. Hui and the cargo handlers under the bear’s supervision started moving the listed quantities from the hold, using manipulators to transfer the cargo to a waiting shuttle. All around the A Quiet Life and the rest of the support flotilla, shuttles from the warships and transports moved about, collecting items to return to the fleet in orbit around Indawo.
One cargo ship, rather unflatteringly called the Milk Cow, was offloading food supplies and temporary shelters for the relief operation on the planet itself. The one shot from the monitor Mars Ultor had impressed upon the Confed troops that the Colonial admiral wasn’t going to balk at hitting a civilian population in order to get at the occupying force.
The Confedders had surrendered before the smoke cleared.
“Message from the Mtoto wa radi,” Jax said, and the main screen filled with the features of a Cape hunting dog wearing Colonial gray, with a lieutenant commander’s bars.
The golden palomino mare’s eyes lit up. “Nik? Nik, is that you?”
The canine blinked. “Merry? Holy Deus, it is you!” He grinned toothily and saluted. “Pardon me, Captain ma’am,” he said mockingly.
She gave him a middle finger in return, and they both laughed. “I thought you – that you were on the Rani,” Meredith said, amending what she’d been about to say hastily.
Kim Nkosazana shrugged. “Kodai started transferring Colonial officers out and replacing them with Confedders. I was one of the second lot to go. When things went to shit, I hired on with the Colonial Navy.” He glanced aside and asked, “A Quiet Life? I heard your ship was – “
“It was,” Meredith said, and her bridge crew chuckled. “Traded up for this one.”
“Great,” Kim said. “I’m sending you a list of stuff we need, and when we meet up I’m buying the drinks and we can tell each other lies.” That got him and the mare laughing again before he broke the connection. There was no sense in tying up message traffic just to get reacquainted; there would be ample time for that later.
“Friend of yours, Captain?” Jax asked without turning away from his main display and control console. More shuttles were approaching.
“Yeah,” Meredith replied, looking over the list that Nik had sent over and approving it. “Served aboard the Rani Anitra together. When they fought the shlani and lost, I thought he’d been killed.” She sniffed and blinked for a moment. “It’s great to see that he’s all right.”
Jax half-turned and gave her a sly look. “Going to ask him to sign up?”
The two engineers chuckled as Meredith stuck her tongue out at the rat. “Not on your life. He’d be a poor fit, and why are you asking? Wanting to leave?”
“Just needling you.” Jax went back to keeping an eye on the shuttles hovering around the freighter.
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Horse
Size 71 x 120px
File Size 39.4 kB
I recently reread a fantastic book about us pacific fleet logistics in ww2. Beans, bullets, and black oil.
It's really just a top level view, but if you think about it, it's freaking amazing. They had more ships in the support fleet than they had in the combat fleets. They had three barges that all they did was make ice cream. The two smelliest ships in the fleet, a pair of livestock ships That carried sheep from Australia tothe butcher barges and then to the refrigerated stores ships. Mobile dry docks big enough to lift aircraft carriers out of the water for repairs. Amazing stuff.
It's really just a top level view, but if you think about it, it's freaking amazing. They had more ships in the support fleet than they had in the combat fleets. They had three barges that all they did was make ice cream. The two smelliest ships in the fleet, a pair of livestock ships That carried sheep from Australia tothe butcher barges and then to the refrigerated stores ships. Mobile dry docks big enough to lift aircraft carriers out of the water for repairs. Amazing stuff.
SEAGOON: The following week saw work begin on the Albert Memorial. Hyde Park was transformed into a vast camp consisting of the following;
SELLERS: Ten thousand workmen.
MILLIGAN: Squodge of parrots called 'Mips'.
SEAGOON: Seventy iron grabs.
SELLERS: One thin thing with lumps on.
MILLIGAN: Four gringel clurds and a ppphnuff!
SEAGOON: Six hundred excavators.
SELLERS: One thurlan glea!
MILLIGAN: One sponton glea!
SEAGOON: One thin thing with lumps on.
SELLERS: Four hundred and eight pairs of 'tooof'.
MILLIGAN: Sixty six nibblits brackets and punchon-purchase and a gny-y-y-yakkakoo!
SEAGOON: Ten sacks of Peruvian and Abyssinian haddock pipes with eliminated toop crusher.
SELLERS: One thin thing with lump on.
MILLIGAN: One - (mouth sequence)
SEAGOON: One schnudd - shop soiled.
SELLERS: One phish - too, too.
MILLIGAN: Too, too, phish, one ping phol tahh.
SEAGOON: Sixty lengths of smokeless alabaster scaffolding.
SELLERS: Ten thousand workmen.
MILLIGAN: Squodge of parrots called 'Mips'.
SEAGOON: Seventy iron grabs.
SELLERS: One thin thing with lumps on.
MILLIGAN: Four gringel clurds and a ppphnuff!
SEAGOON: Six hundred excavators.
SELLERS: One thurlan glea!
MILLIGAN: One sponton glea!
SEAGOON: One thin thing with lumps on.
SELLERS: Four hundred and eight pairs of 'tooof'.
MILLIGAN: Sixty six nibblits brackets and punchon-purchase and a gny-y-y-yakkakoo!
SEAGOON: Ten sacks of Peruvian and Abyssinian haddock pipes with eliminated toop crusher.
SELLERS: One thin thing with lump on.
MILLIGAN: One - (mouth sequence)
SEAGOON: One schnudd - shop soiled.
SELLERS: One phish - too, too.
MILLIGAN: Too, too, phish, one ping phol tahh.
SEAGOON: Sixty lengths of smokeless alabaster scaffolding.
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