J’Shavar Base
© 2023 by Walter Reimer

Thumbnail art by  rabbi-tom



The Bōank’s Command-Second entered the cruiser’s command center and noted that his commanding officer wasn’t in her seat. All of the crew stations were occupied, and everything appeared normal. He glanced forward and frowned.

Captain g’Raf was pacing around the ship’s main tactical display, studying their destination. The J’Shavar System was not a very attractive place; a small dim red dwarf primary with several mineral-rich planetoids orbiting it, located over ten days from Downtime Station deep within Imperial space. The system hosted a largely automated industrial facility, as well as one of the Imperial Fleet Department’s base facilities.

Orbiting the star were a collection of orbital habitats, dockyards and refitting facilities, with sufficient space to comfortably accommodate the entire Second Fleet with room left over. Despite its location, the base had a dedicated flotilla defending it.

The Gartabin was flexing her hands and her tailtip was jittering slightly. Something was making her nervous.

The subcaptain glanced at the Duty Officer’s repeater. There were no threats, and there was nothing amiss. He walked past the crew stations to approach his superior. “Captain?”

Varan paused. “Yes, Subcaptain?”

“Is there something the matter, Ma’am?”

“We are arriving at a base for refit and resupply,” Varan said, “and the crews will rotate out for home leave or demobilization.”

“True, Ma’am.”

The vir frowned. “I was on home leave when the Terrans attempted to attack the Homeworld.”

“Aka,” the kam said, gesturing comprehension. “But we are at peace now.”

She glanced at him, a mere flick of her honey-brown feline eyes. “We thought that then as well.”

The Command-Second considered this, and found himself agreeing with his superior officer. “One is permitted to hope,” he said, using a construction in Kashlanin that implied a probable certainty, “that the Sovereign will not allow his mercy to be so abused again.”

“Ulzatan, Tabin,” Varan said. “No matter, Subcaptain. Despite everything, we shall obey our orders, and our enemies will fear our claws.”

“Of course, Captain.” He stood with her for a moment, watching the small holographic representation of the Bōank moving toward one of the refit yard structures. He pitched his voice so she alone could hear it. “How was your visit aboard the station?”

Varan smiled warmly. “The Admiral and I enjoyed my friends’ hospitality.”

He matched the smile, with a small gesture of understanding as he imagined what the hospitality had entailed.

“Captain?” the Pilot said.

“Yes?”

“Dock Control has authorized us for Dockyard 128, Bay 14k.” A line appeared in the tactical display, showing the optimal course. Each bay had four berths, and their ship was assigned to the second.

“Very well. Acknowledge and comply.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

With a final look at the display, Varan and her second-in-command returned to their seats. “I wonder, at times,” he said.

“What about?”

“Why the Terrans tried to attack the Hearth.”

“Ernnh.” Varan shrugged. “I suppose you could have asked their ruler, before we removed his head.” They both chuckled at that, as the cruiser was guided toward its berth.