File type: Rich Text File (.rtf) [Download]
-----------------------------------------
Could not generate preview text for this file type.
-----------------------------------------
Could not generate preview text for this file type.
Posture
© 2020 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by rabbi-tom
Varan got out of the captain’s chair as Captain k’Jen entered the Kith’s command center. “Report,” he said as he sat down.
“Step One alert, all stations ready. The system defenses are at their highest alert level,” came the prompt reply as the vir’s tail gestured at the tactical plot. The spherical hologram showed the This Far system, with all civilian traffic in green (very little of this; they had run for cover as soon as the alert was sounded), and the system’s defense craft in gold. Chief among them was the former cruiser Mudak, now renamed the Gracie P. It had been hurried out of the dock, but was fully operational. A one-to-one copy of the ship was already being planned. “The AGB 58836 has left the system.”
K’Jen gestured acknowledgement. “Reinforcement?”
“Sector Command is aware that we are the sole warship in the system,” Varan replied. “Additional ships are en route.”
“Very good. The system government?”
“All hyperspace sensors and waypoints are active; This Far traffic control has given us full access to their data, and there are no ships approaching. Their administrator has issued a formal request for protection.”
“Understood.” The kam gazed at the plot and said, “Take station in Secondary Command, Subcaptain.”
Varan stiffened. “Yes, sir,” she said, and left to go to her post.
The Duty Officer moved to let her take her seat; Varan took a moment to go to each station and check personally with the crew before taking her seat. “Subcaptain,” the Sensors said, “the system reports ships on approach through hyperspace. IDs and power curves indicate that they’re Imperial ships.”
“Use our sensors to confirm that,” Varan reminded him, and the kam acknowledged.
The readings were confirmed as a battleship, with four heavy cruisers and twelve additional ships as escorts, erupted as one from hyperspace. Varan looked at her repeater as the commander of the battle group contacted the Kith. “Admiral,” k’Jen was saying.
“Captain. Have you received the latest intelligence update?”
“Yes, Ma’am. The Terrans appear to be destroying hyperspace beacons and the communications network as they advance. This would isolate the Colonies.”
The vir gestured affirmatively. “This system’s defenses?”
“Fully deployed, thirty-one ships ranging from converted cargo lighters to the Terran light cruiser taken during our last action. Five automated stations are present.” Captain k’Jen smiled. “Their government has requested protection.”
The admiral matched his smile. “It pleases the Sovereign to extend that protection.” She glanced at something out of the imager’s range. “System chain of command?”
“The defense commander will conform to my instructions, Ma’am.”
“Good. Scouts are reporting a formation in hyperspace; deploy your force around the planet and its station,” and a separate repeater screen supplied the details as her image disappeared. Varan studied them closely; if something should happen to k’Jen, she would have to take command.
It was a prospect both daunting, and exhilarating.
The tactical plot showed the battle group moving into formation to intercept the Terran force while k’Jen’s orders were relayed to the Colonial ships. Magus Station reported that their weapons were online as the first Terran screening vessels outphased.
This Far was closer to the Imperial border than it was to the boundary between Confed and Colonial space. While it was an important manufacturing center, it wasn’t strategic, and the Confed plan had called for it to be lightly defended. The force that was outphasing was centered around a single heavy cruiser, and the first screening frigates discovered the planners’ error when half their number were destroyed or crippled within seconds. The Kashlanin battleship and its escorts moved to attack, a third of the force inphasing to come up behind the Terran ships.
“Communications,” k’Jen said, “send to the This Far defense force: I would like them to maintain a perimeter around Magus Station and the planet. Attack only if an opposing ship gets beyond the automated defenses. Ships will coordinate their attacks with each other.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Weapons, assume control from Pilot; this course,” and a bright line appeared in the plot. “Attack at discretion.”
The Rakhani-kestin grinned. “Yes, Gartabin.” The Kith moved to place itself at the center of the Colonial line as the battle developed.
The Confed commander had apparently not studied the tactics of his enemy, and the appearance of Imperial ships behind his formation made the Terran warships scatter in a general attack that developed into a melee. The Imperial battleship drove through several Confed destroyers, leaving their debris in its wake as it attacked the Terran flagship from long range.
“Gartabin, a Terran ship has disengaged and is heading toward us,” Sensors reported.
K’jen’s fingerclaws extended and his tail twitched. “Weapons.”
“Intercept course set, attack pattern set; we attack,” Weapons said, moving through the holographic plot as if he was stalking a small prey animal. He paused. “The Gracie P. is moving to flank us.”
“Communications.”
“Contact established.”
The Colonial captain, a feline with orange and white striped fur, appeared on k’Jen’s repeater. “You have broken formation,” the kam said.
“It wouldn’t be smart for you to go into an engagement alone, Gartabin,” the male said.
K’Jen raised an eyebrow at that. “I have never been accused of being stupid,” he said as he smiled. “Weapons, give the Colonial ship our attack pattern; they will be on our right.”
“Yes, Sir.” The former Confed cruiser formed up on the Kashlanin, and both described a weaving path toward the Confed ship.
© 2020 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by rabbi-tom
Varan got out of the captain’s chair as Captain k’Jen entered the Kith’s command center. “Report,” he said as he sat down.
“Step One alert, all stations ready. The system defenses are at their highest alert level,” came the prompt reply as the vir’s tail gestured at the tactical plot. The spherical hologram showed the This Far system, with all civilian traffic in green (very little of this; they had run for cover as soon as the alert was sounded), and the system’s defense craft in gold. Chief among them was the former cruiser Mudak, now renamed the Gracie P. It had been hurried out of the dock, but was fully operational. A one-to-one copy of the ship was already being planned. “The AGB 58836 has left the system.”
K’Jen gestured acknowledgement. “Reinforcement?”
“Sector Command is aware that we are the sole warship in the system,” Varan replied. “Additional ships are en route.”
“Very good. The system government?”
“All hyperspace sensors and waypoints are active; This Far traffic control has given us full access to their data, and there are no ships approaching. Their administrator has issued a formal request for protection.”
“Understood.” The kam gazed at the plot and said, “Take station in Secondary Command, Subcaptain.”
Varan stiffened. “Yes, sir,” she said, and left to go to her post.
The Duty Officer moved to let her take her seat; Varan took a moment to go to each station and check personally with the crew before taking her seat. “Subcaptain,” the Sensors said, “the system reports ships on approach through hyperspace. IDs and power curves indicate that they’re Imperial ships.”
“Use our sensors to confirm that,” Varan reminded him, and the kam acknowledged.
The readings were confirmed as a battleship, with four heavy cruisers and twelve additional ships as escorts, erupted as one from hyperspace. Varan looked at her repeater as the commander of the battle group contacted the Kith. “Admiral,” k’Jen was saying.
“Captain. Have you received the latest intelligence update?”
“Yes, Ma’am. The Terrans appear to be destroying hyperspace beacons and the communications network as they advance. This would isolate the Colonies.”
The vir gestured affirmatively. “This system’s defenses?”
“Fully deployed, thirty-one ships ranging from converted cargo lighters to the Terran light cruiser taken during our last action. Five automated stations are present.” Captain k’Jen smiled. “Their government has requested protection.”
The admiral matched his smile. “It pleases the Sovereign to extend that protection.” She glanced at something out of the imager’s range. “System chain of command?”
“The defense commander will conform to my instructions, Ma’am.”
“Good. Scouts are reporting a formation in hyperspace; deploy your force around the planet and its station,” and a separate repeater screen supplied the details as her image disappeared. Varan studied them closely; if something should happen to k’Jen, she would have to take command.
It was a prospect both daunting, and exhilarating.
The tactical plot showed the battle group moving into formation to intercept the Terran force while k’Jen’s orders were relayed to the Colonial ships. Magus Station reported that their weapons were online as the first Terran screening vessels outphased.
This Far was closer to the Imperial border than it was to the boundary between Confed and Colonial space. While it was an important manufacturing center, it wasn’t strategic, and the Confed plan had called for it to be lightly defended. The force that was outphasing was centered around a single heavy cruiser, and the first screening frigates discovered the planners’ error when half their number were destroyed or crippled within seconds. The Kashlanin battleship and its escorts moved to attack, a third of the force inphasing to come up behind the Terran ships.
“Communications,” k’Jen said, “send to the This Far defense force: I would like them to maintain a perimeter around Magus Station and the planet. Attack only if an opposing ship gets beyond the automated defenses. Ships will coordinate their attacks with each other.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Weapons, assume control from Pilot; this course,” and a bright line appeared in the plot. “Attack at discretion.”
The Rakhani-kestin grinned. “Yes, Gartabin.” The Kith moved to place itself at the center of the Colonial line as the battle developed.
The Confed commander had apparently not studied the tactics of his enemy, and the appearance of Imperial ships behind his formation made the Terran warships scatter in a general attack that developed into a melee. The Imperial battleship drove through several Confed destroyers, leaving their debris in its wake as it attacked the Terran flagship from long range.
“Gartabin, a Terran ship has disengaged and is heading toward us,” Sensors reported.
K’jen’s fingerclaws extended and his tail twitched. “Weapons.”
“Intercept course set, attack pattern set; we attack,” Weapons said, moving through the holographic plot as if he was stalking a small prey animal. He paused. “The Gracie P. is moving to flank us.”
“Communications.”
“Contact established.”
The Colonial captain, a feline with orange and white striped fur, appeared on k’Jen’s repeater. “You have broken formation,” the kam said.
“It wouldn’t be smart for you to go into an engagement alone, Gartabin,” the male said.
K’Jen raised an eyebrow at that. “I have never been accused of being stupid,” he said as he smiled. “Weapons, give the Colonial ship our attack pattern; they will be on our right.”
“Yes, Sir.” The former Confed cruiser formed up on the Kashlanin, and both described a weaving path toward the Confed ship.
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Alien (Other)
Gender Male
Size 71 x 120px
The can of whoopass, it has been open, I theenk.
Comments