Abscission
© 2021 by Walter Reimer

Thumbnail art by  foxenawolf



“Admiral-General in Command,” a yeoman called out, and the bridge crew sat at attention at their stations as Felix stepped into the battleship’s bridge compartment. Lalande hadn’t been that far away from Sol, so he was still wearing his formal uniform when the ship and its escorts outphased.

“At ease,” the leopard said quietly as he looked around the Ares’ bridge and walked over to the ship’s flag plot projection. An admiral and the ship’s captain made way for him as he studied the display. “Well,” he said with a soft chuckle, “they certainly want to show off, don’t they? How many ships, Captain?”

“Two hundred ninety-three ships total, of all types, Sir,” the tigress said. He nodded, and she added, “We are following your orders, running with weapons and shields powered down.”

He nodded absently. “Good. Any communications from them?”

“Apart from demanding to know who we are and who is aboard, we’ve been given approach instructions for a standard synchronous orbit over the site.”

Felix nodded, nibbling on his lower lip in an apparent show of nervousness. “I see.” He gave the captain a nod, and the tigress returned to her post.

The admiral, an elderly raccoon boar, moved closer to the younger leopard and said quietly, “Is there anything I can do for you, Sir?”

Felix gave a slight start and covered it badly with a nervous chuckle. “No, thank you, Oleg. I just got tired of sitting in my cabin.” He clasped his paws behind his back and peered at the approaching planet as the ship drew closer, veering to take its position.

He flinched and looked at the raccoon as the admiral placed a paw on his shoulder. “Perhaps – perhaps if I sent the ship’s chaplain to your quarters, Sir?” the older fur asked.

The feline blinked at him before a half-smile quirked one corner of his mouth. “I’d like that. Thank you, Admiral.”

Oleg dipped his head. “Majesty.”

Again, the half-smile, and Felix left the compartment while the ship and its escort entered orbit.


***


Nearly three hundred ships, with an unknown number flitting about in hyperspace, and a full division of Trackers on the planet to provide security. The Kothamarheki were prowling about in armor and under camouflage, and the Fleet had everything within a light-year under surveillance.

The room where everything was to take place had been part of a manufacturing plant. It had been cleared, cleaned, and two tables with chairs had been placed facing the door through which the Terran prisoners were to come.

Two of the three Governing Council ministers present thought that the military was, perhaps, exceeding what constituted “appropriate security.” The Foreign Minister and the Minister for the Political Monitors were also very aware that if the Terrans attempted an attack like the trap that destroyed the Wolf System, they would likely die quickly along with every other shlan in the system.

Whether the third member of the Council was also aware, he wasn’t showing it. The High Priest was talking to several of his aides, one of whom was carrying the klath casually on one shoulder. The bearded axe’s head was covered with a mauve cloth.

The Minister for Religious Affairs gave one final piece of advice to his aides, who gestured comprehension and moved to each corner of the large room while the kam took a seat with his fellow Councilors. “Have the Terrans arrived yet?” he asked.

The Foreign Minister gestured affirmatively. “Yes. They’re being carefully watched.”

“Shall we have them enter now?” the High Priest asked.

The Political Monitors Minister waved an aide close, whispered to her, and the aide departed. “They should be ready.” A Fleet officer cocked an ear at his communicator and gestured with his tail. “Yes, Lieutenant?”

“Apologies, Ministers,” the officer said. “A shuttle has left the Terran flagship and is descending.”

“Good.” A trio of Terrans dressed in civilian clothing was escorted in and they rather self-consciously took their seats. “Have the Constabulary detail meet them and take the prisoners into custody after they have been identified.”

“Yes, Minister,” and the lieutenant turned away to relay the instructions.


***


The shuttle had landed without any difficulty or fanfare, and after a boarding tube was mated to its hull the pressures equalized and the doors opened to reveal a vir wearing a brown uniform that had a white Constabulary stripe on the sleeves. “You will identify yourselves,” she said in passable Terran Basic as several lower-ranking constables stepped forward with medical scanners and imagers.

Felix and his staff were identified by genetic scans before restraints pinioned their paws behind their backs, and the vir snapped, “Come.” The leopard, the officers who had planned the attack on Gwath ka-shlal, and the rest of his entourage were escorted down several hallways and into the room. The entourage was stopped just inside the room by a cordon of armed Trackers, and the prisoners were halted facing the table with the trio of Terrans seated at it.

“What’s this?” Felix said, his tail snapping back and forth.

The fur in the center, a bear, cleared his throat. “This is a judicial proceeding – “

“A trial?” one captain blurted. “What the fuck?”

One of the bear’s compatriots, a wolf, said, “The prisoners will be silent.” Felix turned to look at the captain, who gulped and subsided.

“This is a judicial proceeding,” the bear resumed, “to determine culpability for an attack upon the Kashlanin homeworld. According to the tenets of Imperial jurisprudence, there is no presumption of either guilt or innocence.” He waited until the prisoners had stopped muttering among themselves. “The evidence shall now be reviewed,” and the three judges began to study a padd while conferring with each other in quiet tones.

Felix and the others looked at each other, the leopard glancing at the entourage before the bear cleared his throat. “The members of the Terran Imperial Naval Staff, present here, are found guilty of their involvement in the attack. However, this was in time of war, and they were under obligation to obey orders.”

The wolf said, “This court sentences the members of the staff to exile for life, upon worlds within the Kashlanin Empire populated by Terran communities – “

“I want to appeal!” a weasel femme shouted.

“There is no appeal,” the third member of the panel, a wolverine femme, replied. “The Constabulary will remove those under sentence,” and a dozen officers moved in, grabbing each prisoner and taking them out of the room through a door behind the judicial panel’s table.

Felix stood alone as the door closed.

“Felix ibn Vladmir Ngo al-Sakai,” the bear said.

The Indochinese leopard straightened. “Yes.”

“You are sentenced to death.” The three Terrans stood and turned their backs on him as a ripple of startled exclamations ran through the Terran entourage.

Hard, three-fingered hands grabbed Felix as the strong scent of Kashlanin filled his nose. He was swept off his feet and dropped face-down on the floor. His breath woofed out of him as three Constabulary officers pinned him to the floor and the mauve-clad acolyte bearing the klath stepped forward.

The kam took a stance and raised the axe, and Felix finally regained his breath. “Wait – “

The blade descended, smashing through fur, skin, bone and tissue.

Blood fountained as the head came free.

“FATHER!” Heads turned as young Prince Vladmir tried to run forward, only to be thrown back as a shlan backhanded him with an almost casual swipe. His mother gathered the weeping child into her arms, ignoring his bloody nose and rocking him back and forth, trying to comfort him as the young leopard cried.

Stepping through the spreading pool of blood, a second acolyte gathered up the bloody head and placed it in a container, sealing it airtight as the considerably spattered officers regained their feet. The shlan with the axe then carefully and methodically severed the corpse’s limbs from the torso.

The High Priest rose. He’d been carefully instructed as to what to say. “Lern this lesan, Terrani,” and he left the room with his acolytes, the one with the axe cleaning the blade as he carried it out.

It was left to the Constabulary to shepherd the late Terran Emperor’s entourage back to their shuttle.


***


The three Ministers, now back aboard the ship that would return them to the Homeworld, sat and watched the holographic display as the Confederate ships broke orbit and were escorted to the inphase point.

“I have misgivings,” the Political Monitors head said. The others looked at him and he added, “It may have been a mistake on our part to allow witnesses. His son, for example; he will ascend to his father’s imperial dignity.”

“The Sovereign told me that they don’t have our memories,” the High Priest said.

“That is true, but think on this. We beheaded his father before his eyes.” The kam’s tail coiled up in his lap as he sipped at his drink. “I wonder what he will remember, and how that memory will affect him as he grows older.”

“We will have to tread carefully,” the Foreign Minister said after sipping his own drink, “but for now, the war is over.”

The other two gestured their agreement.