Hunting Party
© 2021 by Walter Reimer


Thumbnail art by  rabbi-tom


The Duty Officer got to his feet as Varan entered the Bōank’s command compartment. It was only slightly larger than the Kith’s, and as Subcaptain th’Ner left to take his station in the secondary command center, she could feel the appraising looks that the command crew were giving her.

Relax, she thought, everyone knows their jobs.

Then make sure that they know that you can do yours, came the next thought.

“Gartabin,” the lieutenant was saying. “All divisions report ready, and all stations are on Step Two alert status.” His tail twitched, the tailspur hooking at empty air. “The Admiral’s briefing was relayed to the crew. We will go to Step One when we join the rest of the Fleet.”

“Very good, Duty Officer,” Varan said, taking the kam’s place in the captain’s chair. “Pilot?”

“Ma’am, course is set. Engineering advises that we can go to full power.”

“Excellent. Inphase when ready. Weapons?”

The Rakhani-kestin smiled. “Weapons are charged and ready. Weapons sensors are still calibrating, but they will be ready before we reach the rendezvous point, Ma’am.” The main tactical display shifted colors as the ship entered hyperspace and accelerated.

“Thank you.” The meeting point was half a day away, even at maximum velocity. Weariness tugged at her, but she ignored it for the moment, instead tracing her fingers over one of her repeater screens and sending her analyses of Terran tactics to the Weapons Division commander. Such analyses were regularly sent to ships, but these were her own impressions and insights, and they might be useful.

After two full cycles, she gave command to the Duty Officer and began her inspection, starting with the engines.

She was speaking with the Operations commander, a taciturn kam who blinked at her when she asked him about the cruiser’s damage control system when a chime made their ears flick. “Gartabin?” the Duty Officer asked. “Could you please come to the Command Center?”

“I’m coming.” She thanked the commander for his time and headed forward.

“Aka, Yōzhim-kestin?” she asked as she walked in.

“Admiral k’Jan for you, privately,” the lieutenant said. Varan thanked him and stepped into the conference area.

The hologram of the vir stood by the table, and returned Varan’s salute. “Gartabin, welcome to the division. Settling in?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I rely on the crew, as they rely on me; I wanted them to meet me, and to familiarize myself with them and the ship before I take it and them into battle.”

“Well said.” K’Jan frowned. “I have all of your files. Your training and qualifications are all good, but I also have reports from Intelligence and Security concerning your relationship with a certain Terran. Meredidh Destkort, if I am pronouncing her name correctly.”

“You are, Ma’am.”

“Thank you, Captain.” The admiral’s frown deepened. “I have questions, Captain g’Raf, and they are not easy ones.”

Varan kept her tail perfectly still. “Permission to speak, Frelen.” At her affirmative gesture, Varan said, “Destkort-vī is a civilian freighter captain, and has no military role. My relationship with her has never affected my performance in battle with the Confederacy. My loyalty is to the Empire and the Sovereign, and both Intelligence and Security have verified that.”

“I see.” She plainly didn’t – quite – agree. “You look tired, Captain; get some rest. There’ll be little enough after we reach the Fleet and set off after these Terrans.”

“Yes, ma’am.” The holograph faded, and after she was certain that the communications link had shut down, the vir muttered “V’brr’dakh” in a low, venomous tone. When she had herself back under control she tapped one of the intercoms. “Tabin th’Ner?”

“Captain?”

“I’ll be in my quarters. Please alert me when we’re a cycle away from the rendezvous point.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” and Varan left the conference room.

With the door closed, she poured a glass of henal, drank half of it, and shed her uniform. K’Jan was correct, as far as it went; she felt quite tired, and she’d need to be absolutely ready if she had to take the cruiser into battle.

The henal helped, and after stretching out on the bed she surrendered to sleep.


***


“Sleep well, Captain?” th’Ner asked as he stood up from the captain’s chair.

Varan smiled and he stepped aside as she sat. “Very well, Subcaptain.” She studied the tactical plot for a moment. “Duty Officer.”

“Ma’am?”

“Set Step One alert, please.” Light blue lights came on and an ululating alarm tone reverberated through the ship.

“All stations ready,” the Duty Officer reported.

“Primary projectors ready,” the shift’s Weapons Officer said. She added, “Secondaries on hot standby.”

“Very good,” Varan said.

The Communications Officer half-turned in his seat. “Message from Admiral k’Jan. We are part of a six-ship echelon to search the area shown,” and part of the plot glowed blue, extending from a light-year from their current position all the way to the border.

“Please acknowledge the message. Pilot, join us up with the rest of our group.”

By the time the crew were all in their armor, the Bōank had moved forward, joining three other heavy cruisers and two destroyers before maneuvering into their search area. Each of the echelons were coordinating with each other, creating a gigantic shallow bowl with its ‘mouth’ facing toward Terran space. Destroyers and fast attack craft were on the ‘rim’ of the bowl, guarding and shepherding electronic warfare ships who were probing hyperspace for any Terran ships trying to evade the hunters.

The fleet moved relatively slowly through hyperspace, and Varan sat forward in her seat, gazing at the tactical display and thinking. She shoved aside the memory of her encounter with Admiral k’Jan and tried to put herself in the place of the Terran commander.

Aka, there it was.

Subcaptain th’Ner was in secondary command, and she selected a private channel. “I think that we can expect an attack soon.”

“Do you think so?” the older kam asked.

“Yes. Their combat doctrine when pursued is to try to force us to either break off or delay us, to allow their larger ships to escape. Based on what came out of hyperspace at Kirnakir, maybe destroyer-class ships.”

“You’ve encountered these tactics?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “You didn’t see it where you were operating?”

“We were mostly engaged with lighter forces, not large battle groups,” th’Ner said. He sounded slightly defensive about it.

“I envy you,” she said, shoving back the memories.

“When?” he asked.

She studied the plot, noting the position and speed of the Imperial ships in relation to the estimated position of the Terran force. “Ernnh . . . I would estimate not more than three cycles.”

Just over a cycle later, the Communications Officer reported, “Echelon T reports a hyperspace contact on approach vector.” The plot showed that the contact was on the opposite side of the ‘bowl.’ The kam’s ears twitched. “Two more reports.”

Varan took a breath to focus herself.

Here we go, she thought.

“Weapons, take control from Pilot,” she said in a crisp tone. The Weaponeer fairly danced into the tactical plot, grinning as two more sensor contacts appeared in the projection.

“Sensor contact, on interception course – power surge!” Sensors said.

“Outphase,” Varan said, her voice level. “Weaponeer, pattern Dh-5.”

“Missiles launching.”

“Power curve shows its primaries are charged.”

“Understood.” Varan felt her claws twitch in their sheathes. “Weaponeer, attack pattern . . . your discretion. Strike to kill.”

“Ulnt, vī.”

“Sixteen Terrans engaging the formation,” Sensors reported.

The Bōank spun about its longitudinal axis, firing on the smaller enemy ship as it dodged. “Solid strikes,” Weapons reported. “Power falloff; it’s losing speed.”

The heavy cruiser loomed over the destroyer, batting aside its defenses and crippling it before its drive overloaded and the Terran ship exploded. The refitted shields took the impact admirably, and the Imperial ship swept past the debris field.

“No more contacts,” Sensors reported.

Varan opened the shipwide intercom. “Well done, all of you. If any enemy comes before us, we will leave them behind us as wreckage.” She shut off the intercom. “Weapons, inphase and bring us back to our original course and speed. How long before we reach the Terran border?”

“Three more days, Ma’am.”

“We can probably expect more attacks like this one, so everyone stay alert.” Her suit intercom opened a private channel. “Yes?”

It was th’Ner. “Well done, Ma’am.”

“Thank you, Subcaptain.”

Varan, unseen within her armor, allowed herself a brief smile as the hunt continued.