by Chris Hechtl
“Except this new Federation,” Captain Layafette stated. All eyes turned to him. “You said there are no capital ships beyond the salvaged battlecruiser?”
“My source mentioned a battleship or dreadnought. That part was sketchy as was where it is and how functional it is,” Siri stated with a grimace and shrug. “I'd like to point out that many of the ships are Tauren in origin,” she said.
“So hardy ships but mostly alien,” Doctor Wilhelm said thoughtfully.
“Exactly. But the Taurens weren't known for building many warships prior to the beginning of the Federation. They only had a few capital ships before the Federation. They lost that one in Pyrax too,” Siri said.
“Yes but the Terran Confederation didn't have any, and we all know how that war turned out,” Doctor Wilhelm said with a brief tight smile. “I am curious about the population here. Any ideas on how we can get the demographics? A recent census? Surely security keeps tabs on such things or the life support crews?”
It was Captain Layafette's turn to shake his head. “No, they don't keep track. They grow the life support organically; as far as I can tell, nothing is properly planned. There is no master plan on the base as far as I could tell.”
“So backwards!” Doctor Goethe said. “See? They are so ….” She wrung her hands.
“We need to remember there are humans in the mix too, Doctor,” Captain Layafette said. “And we need to refrain from any comments about us against them or derogatory statements about species in general. We can't even afford the luxury of thinking such things because it could cause trouble. Remember that,” he warned, holding a finger up as he caught her eyes with his own and held them to make certain she knew how serious he and the situation was.
She bit her lip after a moment, then looked away.
“I think we're adjourned for the moment. I'm going to go visit another restaurant for lunch. I suggest each of you do the same if you can handle the company. We can meet again to discuss our findings at a later date,” he said.
The others nodded.
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“Sir, someone would like to speak with you,” the waiter said. Captain Layafette looked up to the waiter, who turned and indicated a man holding a cap in his hands and working the brim.
The captain studied him for a moment, then nodded. He noted the knife sheathed on the man's hip. The chocolate skinned human limped over and bobbed a nod. “Thank ye kindly, sir,” the native pirate said. He turned and looked at the waiter expectantly. The waiter took the look as dismissal and retreated.
“Sit,” the captain ordered, indicating the seat across from him. The dark skinned human nodded and sat down heavily with a sigh of relief. His bad leg was kept outstretched. Captain Layafette took a sip of water as he studied the other man. He was heavily scarred. He was missing a few fingers on his left hand, and he'd already noted the limp. He was dressed as a Caribbean pirate not a spacer. The captain had noticed a lot of the spacers dressed like that instead of standard spacer uniforms. Of course, many were Neos and wore the bare minimum of clothes sometimes.
When in Rome, he thought as the other human took out a bowie knife and started to scrape at his face and head. That made the captain suddenly wary.
“What is this about?” the captain asked as he set his glass down.
“Ye be the one who be askin' 'bout water dwellers? The fish man and the like?” the pirate asked, eying the captain.
“Yes, who wants to know?” the captain asked, keeping his voice stern. Something told him the other man wasn't an officer.
“Oh, me, that is, Sailor Choctaw Zambika,” the other man introduced himself.
Captain Layafette did his best not to scowl at the lack of protocol. “You have something for me?” he finally asked. He hoped it wasn't another job request. He'd heard there were some out-of-work spacers on the station. He'd had two apply already, both mangy and in poor health. Apparently, health care was spotty at best, he thought.
Zambika seemed ready to hem and haw a bit, but he finally got it out. “I know of one,” he finally admitted.
“Oh? Do tell,” the captain said, sitting back in the chair as he eyed the other man with interest.
“He's a member of the crew actually. Not my crew, Captain Gutt's crew,” Zambika said. “I'm not sure turning one of our own in works. It doesn't feel right. But dar' be nuthin' in the code against it,” he added hastily.
“Captain … Gutt?”
“Aye, he be the one. He took the name since he likes to gut people like a fish with his own two hands,” Zambika said with a grimace.
“Oh, lovely,” the captain said quietly. He didn't even want that imagery stuck in his head.
“Aye, don't mess with that one. He'll come on all nice and friendly, but that's to size you up. He'd just as soon tear you up as lubber prey. He keeps to the code only because the vice admiral keeps an eye on him anytime he's in port.”
Captain Layafette nodded slowly. “Ah, I see. Now, you mentioned a water dweller? On his crew?”
“Oh, aye. He be Mister Flynn. He's an elephant seal. Big guy, but dumb as a brick. On land, he acts as a strongman, not that Cap'in Gutt needs it; he's strong his own self. But Flynn is big, and he's got mass. He'll squish you in a fight.”
Captain Layafette nodded slowly, scratching at the side of his nose. Another image he had to deal with. “Um … good to know.”
“He serves as a helmsman on Gutt's bridge. I think that ties in to why you are lookin' for 'em, right?”
“Right,” the captain replied with a nod as he made a note. “I'll see if we can work something out with Captain … Gutt. Do you happen to know his patrol route?”
Zambika scratched at his head with the tip of his knife as he thought about it. The knife made scraping sounds on the nearly bald scalp. Flakes of dandruff came off like snow. “North me thinks. Counter clockwise. I'd say he's due in at any time.”
“Ah, okay,” the captain replied with a nod, brushing the dandruff away.
“Is there a reward?” Zambika asked hopefully, eyes bright.
“Of course, if it plays out,” Captain Layafette said carefully. He could see the other man's greed sparkling in his eyes. He had no problem turning in someone who was nominally an ally. “Given he's already crew though …,” he shrugged. “I'll put in a good word for you.”
“That be it? Good word?” Zambika said, eying him coldly.
“It means a chance at promotion. If this Mister Flynn is still alive and plays out, it could be more. If he can lead us to more, than it'll be more beneficial to you. Too many variables though, too many if's,” Captain Layafette said.
Zambika grimaced, then nodded once as he stalked off.
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“You dare!” a familiar high-pitched voice cut through the admiral's conversation. He snorted irritably and then continued on with his conversation. That was, until a familiar male voice laughed and mocked the hyena.
“You … I'll cut off your balls if you've got any and eat them myself!” Captain Wilda Dab, the spotted hyena commander of the repair yard snarled.
“You and what army, bitch?” Commander Dolon Lycaon snarled right back, teeth and claws bared at her. “Just come and try it, and I'll notify your next of kin!” he said loudly enough for the admiral to stop his conversation and turn to them. When their bickering continued, he roared, cutting off all conversations in the room.
“Save it for the dome!” the admiral snarled, fed up with the both of them. They had been arguing for years, bickering like children. When Wilda seemed ready to ignore his snarl, he growled deep and low, cutting her off. That cut off the spat abruptly. “I swear; the two of you are like an old married couple. Maybe we should go through with the ceremony?” he demanded.
“No, sir. Sorry sir,” Commander Lycaon said, eyes downcast.
The idea of a marriage of the duo had the lords roaring with laughter as did the wolf's instant and rather fearful response.
“No, I th
ink we should,” the admiral said with an evil grin. Keeping Wilda happy was important; they needed the yard running smoothly. She seemed to run through males quickly; she hadn't had one for some time and had been banned from choosing males in her own clan due to the interclan warfare that it might cause. Besides, the hyenas were having problems with genetic inbreeding. “Come over here,” he ordered. When they hesitated, he snapped his fingers and then pointed his index finger down in front of him, growling slightly to let them know he meant business.
Resentfully, the duo came over to the base of the dais, eyes downcast. Both knew better than to look the admiral in the eye; it was a challenge that they might not survive.
“Ye mangy lot and louts be witness to the mating of yon lycan and hyena lass. Be they ever bound together, till death do them part,” the admiral said, getting into the feeling of the occasion. “Nay they kill one another or else dire circumstances befall they and their clan or pack,” the lion said firmly. The rest of the pirate lords and captains laughed and jeered. A few sprayed alcohol or threw gobs of food. Commander Lycaon winced as one hit him in the back and slid down his back. He was a young riser; he'd made some enemies among some of the lords. His ears went flat back when he realized the seriousness of the situation he'd gotten himself in.
When the admiral asked if anyone objected, the room was silent. The commander looked around desperately hopeful, but no one said anything in his defense. The captain seemed amused at his show of desperation.
“I now pronounce ye mates for life,” the admiral said to the jeers and applause of the crowd. “You may kiss the bride,” he said. When the Neowolf didn't do anything, he growled. “Go on, kiss her lad!”
The Neohyena glared at the wolf. “You do …”
He darted in and gave the hyena a peck on a cheek, but then got out and away fast. Her eyes flared wide, then she lashed out, slapping him to the guffaws and jeers of the crowd.
“See? A match made in heaven. Now never it be made twain,” the admiral said expansively, motioning for the duo to move off. “Off with you now. Go consummate it elsewhere,” he said roughly. “Though this mangy lot dare be wantin' to see it me thinks,” he growled. That earned whistles and jeers.
“She's a bit more woman than …,” the wolf started to say, but the hyena grabbed him by an ear and then dragged him out before he could say more.
“Come on. I need to work some frustration out anyway. Your ass is going to be flaming red when I'm done with you,” she said as he yelped and the crowd whistled, stomped and jeered them on.
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“Where are our new captains,” the admiral said in an aside to Kix. “I don't see them here.”
“Come to think of it, they haven't been around the base at all. Only a few people, all humans. They keep to their ships,” Kix said.
“They seem to think what, they are better than us?” Admiral Ishmael asked, rubbing his jaw and stroking his goatee. The new arrival's disdain to mix with the clans and lords was a mystery; one he puzzled over more and more as time progressed. One would think after months and years in transit, the crews would be eager for liberty.
“I heard a few things, something about discipline on one ship and a captain who wanted to work on a thorny engineering problem,” Kix reported.
“If it is an engineering issue, why didn't they report it? Why aren't they in the repair slip?”
“I don't know, sir. I haven't seen any hull activity on any of the ships,” the Neochimp replied with a shake of his head. “Whatever the reason, they aren't talking,” the Neochimp said.
“Find out. I saw the report of their travels; they came here rather fast. Their ships are more up-to-date than any of ours,” the admiral rumbled.
“Aye aye, sir,” the Neochimp replied with a nod.
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Kix looked into new arrivals the following morning. He found out through some judicious checking with the dock master as well as logistics that there were only humans on the new ships, no Neos or other species. The crews kept to themselves or only went out with human company from some of their ships. They didn't go out for long, only long enough to complete a mission and then return. They usually traveled heavily armed and seemed nervous around Neocats and other major predators.
He poked around and then picked up some scuttlebutt at lunch that some of the humans that had trouble on the station over the years had started to associate more with the newcomers. They were also more aloof, more distant to the Neo shipmates. A few had put in for transfers to the new ships but had so far been denied since all three ships had full crews.
A tip to the waiter made the waiter's tongue loosen up. The waiter informed him that Captain Layafette occasionally took lunch at the sandwich shop to talk with locals, but he favored humans over anyone else. The waiter went on to tell the captain about how the human captain had taken a tip from Zambika. That had gotten the Neochimp snorting in disgust. “That one! He can't sail, nor can he keep down a job. He is close to being spaced,” he said with a shake of his head.
“Tis true. I heard Zambika snarling over being cheated out of what was rightfully his when he left,” the waiter said.
“I see,” the Neochimp said, tugging on his ear as he thought about the conversation. “I'll have to look him up. Any ideas on where he be?” he asked.
“He begs for coins to get himself drunk on the corner two blocks over. If he has enough coins, he'll get himself a bottle and find a place to curl up and drown his sorrows in it,” the waiter said with a sniff. “Or he could be trying to find work in the docks. No one will employ him because of that gimpy leg,” he said.
“Aye,” the Neochimp said with a nod. He made a mental note to look the human up when he had the time. He rose and tipped the waiter again, then went back to his regular duties.
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Vice Admiral Ishmael went over the T-4 plan several times but was reluctant to order it distributed to the lords. Doctor Wilhelm noted the reluctance and let the excuses go for some time as he felt out the situation and became comfortable with the actors and their peculiar species. He had little data on how to interact with them, and the sociological connections took time for him to feel out and feel comfortable with.
He did note that there were four warships other than Fancy and Seydlitz that could enact the plan. If each took a different route, they could complete it within a few years.
However, the Neolion admiral remained reluctant to launch the plan. There was also the question of how to hit the space colonies, though Doctor Goethe did point out they could just raid and strip them, then blow them apart.
He started a whisper campaign to goad the admiral into action, using the human officers as his natural allies. Some of the pirates saw it as their duty to perform the mission since it was called upon from Horath; others saw it as weeding, which would be a service to get rid of the weak. Others saw it as needless waste.
Reluctantly, the admiral decided to go forward with the plan, but only after he had modified it to hit colonies that were mostly tough to break. “Pity we can't get into the Tauren Confederation from here,” Kix said, shaking his head. “This would be the perfect weapon to bring them to their knees,” he said.
“Tauren Confederation?” Doctor Wilhelm asked.
“Yes. A group of mostly Tauren worlds set up shop on the other side of this sector. There are few ways in and out of their jump chains. They have their own militia ships and supposedly a shipyard. They've picketed the jump lanes in pretty heavily and have set up dense minefields. We have tried to get a ship in but they end up running it down or something happens to it and they are never seen again,” the Neochimp explained.
Doctor Wilhelm looked at Captain Layafette for confirmation. The captain shrugged slightly; it was news to him.
“This is the first we've heard about it. Your reports never mentioned opposition, Vice Admiral,” Doctor Wilhelm said, eyeing the admiral accusingly.
“Are you accusi
ng me of cooking my reports?” the admiral growled, vocal cords reverberating with a slight menacing growl counterpoint.
“Um, no, no, not in so many, um, words.” Doctor Wilhelm said. When the lion flashed his sharp teeth briefly, it inspired him to add a “Sir” to that last statement.
“Good,” the Neocat said, seemingly slightly mollified. “I ordered that part of the sector to be left alone. As Captain Baker mentioned, we have a way in. The forces that scouted the Confeds were light. I was waiting for larger ships to come in, ships I was promised decades ago,” he growled, eying the duo, “before I moved in to plunder them as a squadron.”
“How were you planning to get past their warships, sir?” Captain Layafette asked, genuinely curious. “Do you have intelligence on what they have?”
“As I said, we have a secret way in. Or had, they know part of the route now,” the admiral said with a grimace. “They are now picketing the six star systems that connect to the other star systems in the sector and are therefore exposed to us. No matter.” He flicked his fingers, then flexed his claws. “One of my plans was to pull in ships to build up a sufficient force to move in to the Confed space in strength. Now these fresh orders have changed things,” he growled.
“We all make sacrifices for the service,” Doctor Wilhelm said. “And we all do our duty.”
The admiral eyed the human for a long moment. Finally, he nodded. “That we do. That we do,” he said ever so softly.
After a long moment, the human started to draw a breath in to ask if they were going to proceed or not. The admiral seemed to recognize the action and waved a hand. “Arr, we be getting the ships ready. We have targets in mind. It will take some time to get to them to test your weapon,” the lion growled. “But we'll get 'er done,” he said. He turned to the others. “To the ships, me hearties! We have a planet to plunder and burn!”
A ragged chorus of Ar's, growls, and raised fists and weapons answered his order.
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The admiral allowed the other pirate lords to argue about the new doctrine and new mission. They were right. Bio-weapons were troubling, and they could backfire. Doctor Wilhelm's assurances that they had a cure for the viruses were reassuring … though he hadn't proven it. It was tempting to pick someone out and infect them to test the cure, but it would be detrimental to morale if the admiral did that. Seeing the virus from space was one thing; seeing it up close and personal was quite something else again.