Talks
© 2021 by Walter Reimer


Thumbnail art by  baroncoon


Much to her disappointment, Varan’s ship had been one of the ones forbidden to pursue the fleeing Confed task force. Bōank was operating with just over two-thirds of its usual crew complement and lacked sufficient supplies to sustain a long pursuit deep into Terran space, so the recall, while galling, was understandable.

They didn’t have to go all the way back to the base where Varan had taken command of the cruiser, which was fortunate.

The Pilot was carefully maneuvering the ship to its assigned dock when the Communications Officer said, “Message for you, Captain, personal priority.”

“Aka, thank you. Please transfer it to my office,” and she stood and left the command center. Command-Second th’Ner took her place.

The message was from Admiral k’Jan. “Frelen, zogat,” Varan said courteously.

“I wish to apologize to you, Gartabin,” k’Jan said. “I misjudged you.”

“Permission to speak, Ma’am?” At her gesture Varan said, “Your caution is understandable, Ma’am, as were your misgivings. I hope that I will manage to dispel them.”

“You have.” K’Jan smiled. “And allow me to apologize a second time, Captain. I was too quick to dismiss your concerns. When the Terrans fled, you were the first commander to alert the rest of the force, demonstrating a certain level of insight based on your combat experience – not simply for your personal relationships.” The admiral paused before asking, “Are you available to talk with me, in person?”

“Ma’am, I must write an after action report.”

“Of course. How long do you estimate?”

“Not longer than two cycles, Ma’am.”

“Good. There will be one other with us for this conversation, and formal uniform is required.”

That almost made Varan’s ears go back, and her tail almost thumped against the deck. She recovered quickly and said, “I will notify your office when I have completed my report, Ma’am.”

“Good.” The screen went blank, leaving the vir thinking furiously. Her report would be the easier of the two tasks facing her. The other would be her formal uniform, as she hadn’t brought it with her.

A trip to the station’s supply office would be required.

A fast trip.

Less than two cycles later, Varan tapped the annunciator beside the door of Admiral k’Jan’s office. Her aide, a commander, ushered her in. “They’re waiting for you, Captain,” she said, her tail indicating the door on the opposite side of the room.

“Thank you,” Varan said, and walked to the door.

“Please come in, Gartabin,” Frelen k’Jan said. Varan stepped inside and saluted at the sight of the kam seated a short distance from the admiral’s desk.

Kandun b’Vat returned the salute, and his tail gestured at a chair. “Please sit down, Captain g’Raf.”

She blinked at the kam and at the chair before she recovered and crossed the room. “Thank you, Sir,” she said to the Fleet Commander as she sat down. Admiral k’Jan sat down, the three seats arranged in a triangle. The seating was deliberate; no one was in a superior position.

“Certainly an interesting first assignment for your new command, Captain,” b’Vat said, his tail draping casually over his shoulders.

“Yes, Sir,” Varan said. “I was disappointed that the Bōank had to be recalled.”

“Really?” k’Jan asked.

“Of course, Ma’am. These Terrans attempted to attack the Homeworld,” Varan replied.

The Fleet Commander gazed at her quizzically. “’These’ Terrans.”

“Yes, Sir. The Colonies are on our side, asking for our assistance and protection.”

“I see that you were awarded Battle Honors.”

“Yes, Sir. After our action at Lalande.”

The kam flicked his ears, and stood up abruptly. He casually waved both viri to stay in their seats as he went to a small table and poured three glasses of henal. Picking them up with both hands and his tail, he carried them over and served Varan and k’Jan before he sat back down. He took a sip of his drink and said, “Tell me about Lalande, Captain.”


***


Remember, Navot k’Ven reminded herself, she’s frightened; frightened at the possible consequences of her actions.

The vir smiled.

Good.

It gave the Empire a position of strength, she estimated, and she was determined to exploit that.

Before extending the invitation to Balakrishnan, though, her security clearance had been increased and she had been permitted to see the general action report of the Confed attack and subsequent battle. The audacity of the Terrans almost made her tail go rigid, and the execution of the ones taken prisoner after the remaining enemy ships fled shocked her.

An addendum to the recording stated Balakrishnan does not know the outcome of this operation. You are authorized to tell her at your discretion.

That gave her pause, and she reevaluated her options and priorities. That done, she accessed her padd and linked it to the station’s communications network.

It was midday on the Terran side of Downtime, but the Dhole-Akita canine looked tired. Therefore, she didn’t conceal her surprise at the sight of the vir. “K’Ven-vī?” Her initial surprise descended rapidly to a suspicious expression. “Are you here on the station?”

“Yes, Balakrishnan-vī,” the vir replied. “The Foreign Ministry assigned me to reopen negotiations with you.”

“Do we have anything to talk about?” the Ambassador asked warily.

“I think we do.”

The canine tugged at one ear in an apparently nervous gesture. “Shall we meet at the usual place?”

K’Ven smiled, guessing at the cause of Balakrishnan’s nervousness. “No. I think, this time, we should meet on this side of the station.” Her smile fled. “Alone.”

Anulka-Mei Balakrishnan gazed at the vir on her padd’s display for several moments before her ears dipped. “Agreed. One cycle?”

“I shall be waiting.”


***


Telling it a fourth time made it much easier. Between her action report and the times she’d told Meredith’s family and her own, the memories came readily to mind with the sorrow and anger carefully put aside. When she finished, Admiral k’Jan looked sympathetic.

Fleet Commander b’Vat drained his second glass of henal and said, “Your experience aboard the Kith, coupled with insights into Terrans gained from your relationship with Destkort-vī and her family, have given you some ability in fighting them. I would appreciate having you join my planning team.”

Varan blinked and nearly spilled her henal. The offer was tantalizing; no danger, and a clear path to eventual admiral’s rank.

Still . . .

“Tar gar mevik, Kirfrel-dorwin, ēn saērā zemak.”

“’Decline?’” B’Vat looked at her curiously. “Why, Captain?”

Despite the whisper of alcohol in her brain from the henal, Varan marshaled her thoughts. “First, Sir, I am far too new at my rank and position. Even promotion to a heavy cruiser command was a huge step, and I have very little time to learn and become proficient at it.” She glanced at Admiral k’Jan. “It would be a disservice to the officer who promoted me to my current posting.”

“I understand. The second reason?”

“It is very close to the first, Sir. Your tactical staff are all senior officers, and I am far too junior. Even if your selection of me is based on whatever minor insights I might have acquired.”

Kandun b’Vat sat back and thought for a moment, and Varan glanced back at her superior. K’Jan was looking at her reassuringly.

“Aka,” the Fleet Commander said, “we shall set this conversation aside, but remember it. It may be revisited at some point, Gartabin.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“For now, you have a ship and crew to look after. Dismissed, Captain.”

Varan stood and saluted. “Sir.” She then saluted Admiral k’Jan and left the office.

“She’s good,” k’Jan finally said. “Thank you for not making her selection an order.”

B’Vat smiled. “I wouldn’t have, and you know it, Vashak.” He stretched. “Would you be interested in dinner with me?”

“Yes, Kandun, I would.”