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Cooperation
© 2021 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
marmelmm
“Excuse me?”
Zulfikar Mo looked up from his padd and smiled at one of the Satan’s communication officers. “Yes, er, Commander?”
The badger femme said, “We have an incoming transmission from the Kashlani. They wish to speak with you, Minister Dennis, and Admiral Fikset.” Her expression faltered slightly. “Immediately.”
The bull nodded. “Of course. Have you called the Minister and the Admiral?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you.” The Colonial First Minister closed the file he’d been reading and sat back with a sigh. The Kashlani always worried him slightly. Sure, they were helping the Colonies hold off the Confederacy – but they’d never named the price for their aid.
He sometimes lost sleep at night over what the cost might entail.
Dennis Marya looked tired as the lean canine came in, hugging a large mug of coffee in both paws. Mira Fikset, the commander-in-chief of the Colonial Fleet, came in shortly afterward and as she sat down the lights dimmed and the holographic image of the High Admiral appeared.
The translator synched up with Garfrelen t’Klar in under half a second. “Welcome, High Admiral,” Mo said.
“Greetings, First Minister, Defense Minister, Admiral,” the vir said. “The Sovereign has ordered a full alert for the entire Empire, after a Terran force attacked the Home.” The three Terrans exchanged startled looks as t’Klar asked, “Did you have any intelligence concerning this?”
Marya spoke up. “We did not. If we had, we would have told you immediately.”
“Forgive me, I had to ask.” T’Klar smiled momentarily. “The force was stopped, and is trying to escape us. We are asking for your help.”
Mo glanced at the two femmes. Marya looked hopeful, while Fikset looked calculating. “What help do you need?” the bull asked.
A star map appeared, with a bright yellow line delineating the accepted border between the Empire and Terran space. A swathe of gold was pursuing a hazy cloud of light blue. “The force is headed here,” the High Admiral said, “and we need a force in division strength to stop them at the border.”
Fikset sat forward, gazing intently at the map. “I can offer two divisions,” the wolfess said after a moment.
“That is generous,” t’Klar said, “and we thank you. As our forces approach the border, we will coordinate with yours regarding the interception point.”
Fikset nodded. “Understood.”
“Thank you.” The image at the focus vanished.
“Can’t believe they were that stupid,” the wolfess growled. “Attacking so soon after that one mel went off-balance and tried it solo.” The three Terrans had seen the recording of Wilk’s abortive and quixotic attempt.
And had been told of the fate of the Sīēchēa’i.
Marya looked nervous. “What do you think they’ll want us to do? If we catch the Confedders, that is.”
Fikset grimaced. “Take them into custody.”
Zulfikar Mo added, “You hope.”
© 2021 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
marmelmm“Excuse me?”
Zulfikar Mo looked up from his padd and smiled at one of the Satan’s communication officers. “Yes, er, Commander?”
The badger femme said, “We have an incoming transmission from the Kashlani. They wish to speak with you, Minister Dennis, and Admiral Fikset.” Her expression faltered slightly. “Immediately.”
The bull nodded. “Of course. Have you called the Minister and the Admiral?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you.” The Colonial First Minister closed the file he’d been reading and sat back with a sigh. The Kashlani always worried him slightly. Sure, they were helping the Colonies hold off the Confederacy – but they’d never named the price for their aid.
He sometimes lost sleep at night over what the cost might entail.
Dennis Marya looked tired as the lean canine came in, hugging a large mug of coffee in both paws. Mira Fikset, the commander-in-chief of the Colonial Fleet, came in shortly afterward and as she sat down the lights dimmed and the holographic image of the High Admiral appeared.
The translator synched up with Garfrelen t’Klar in under half a second. “Welcome, High Admiral,” Mo said.
“Greetings, First Minister, Defense Minister, Admiral,” the vir said. “The Sovereign has ordered a full alert for the entire Empire, after a Terran force attacked the Home.” The three Terrans exchanged startled looks as t’Klar asked, “Did you have any intelligence concerning this?”
Marya spoke up. “We did not. If we had, we would have told you immediately.”
“Forgive me, I had to ask.” T’Klar smiled momentarily. “The force was stopped, and is trying to escape us. We are asking for your help.”
Mo glanced at the two femmes. Marya looked hopeful, while Fikset looked calculating. “What help do you need?” the bull asked.
A star map appeared, with a bright yellow line delineating the accepted border between the Empire and Terran space. A swathe of gold was pursuing a hazy cloud of light blue. “The force is headed here,” the High Admiral said, “and we need a force in division strength to stop them at the border.”
Fikset sat forward, gazing intently at the map. “I can offer two divisions,” the wolfess said after a moment.
“That is generous,” t’Klar said, “and we thank you. As our forces approach the border, we will coordinate with yours regarding the interception point.”
Fikset nodded. “Understood.”
“Thank you.” The image at the focus vanished.
“Can’t believe they were that stupid,” the wolfess growled. “Attacking so soon after that one mel went off-balance and tried it solo.” The three Terrans had seen the recording of Wilk’s abortive and quixotic attempt.
And had been told of the fate of the Sīēchēa’i.
Marya looked nervous. “What do you think they’ll want us to do? If we catch the Confedders, that is.”
Fikset grimaced. “Take them into custody.”
Zulfikar Mo added, “You hope.”
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Cow
Size 120 x 75px
File Size 38.7 kB
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