Here we go again. This chapter was quite a bit easier to write and I hope everyone enjoys reading it.
I'm looking forward to seeing where this goes along with everyone else.
Please let me know what you think of my work, and without further ado, I present you.
Kathekon Chapter 4
Commodore Baptiste watched as all six battleships in his fleet took positions around the last two surviving enemy ships. Each battleship was scanning the ships as carefully as possible and ensuring every single weapon on the ship was reduced to molten slag. The ships drew closer all at once, both to ensure as many marine boarding pods would reach the ships at once as possible and to confuse any enemy gunners with the problem of which ship to fire upon with any weapons they may still have left.
Beyond what was already being done by his fleet he would have little actual command over the marines as they proceeded with taking the enemy ships. The officer responsible for that would be a major of the marines who was aboard the Pakriti. Jean-Luc would only be an observer of the marines helmet cams and general systems to ensure everything would be both above the board and to ensure the fleet could immediately react to any threat the ships might pose. The captains of each of the battleships also had the authority to act autonomously to preserve and protect their ships, crews and marines. Currently his largest concern was wondering if the Denebians were the kind who would make their ships reactors go critical to try and take the battleships around them out.
“Dignitary Vatia.” He turned slightly to look at her and gestured to the open space next to his chair. “I was wondering if you could help answer some questions on what the Denebians might do next.” He glanced at the screens, the marines hadn't launched yet, before turning his attention back to the weaver dignitary as she carefully approached him, she seemed unsure of her footing on the bridge for some reason. He also took note of how even in the rather plain light of the bridge her silk clothes, he was certain she had woven them herself, shimmered like high class finery. While it looked impressive he couldn't help but feel it looked slightly out of place, it might also make it harder for her to get along with the crew. He would talk with her about that later.
When she was next to him and he broke his stare, hoping she hadn't found it rude, to turn back to the screens and gestured at them while she remained silent. “Your people have more experience with the Denebians than we do.” He looked at the two ships on one of the screens, their engines and armor pockmarked by the destruction wrought on them.
“What exactly do you want to know?” She asked, he found her voice to be rather soothing after the hectic and stress of the combat. Even in the current stress of the upcoming boarding action.
“How they are likely to act once our marines breach their ship. Will they fight? Surrender perhaps? Detonate their own ships to try and take us with them? Commit suicide to avoid being taken captive?”
She seemed to consider for a moment, sliding her lower arms over her cephalothorax while crossing her upper arms over her chest. He wondered if she had subconsciously picked up that habit from her interactions with humans. “They are likely going to resist your marines, however.” She paused and looked at the state of both vessels then at another screen that showed the armoured and heavily armed marines getting into their boarding pods. “That resistance will likely crumble quickly.” She shifted a little. “I have recently studied human history some more and do not think the Denebians will be able to match the aggressiveness and lethality of your marines.”
“Will they surrender once they crumble?” He questioned while watching the final checks on the pods and their launch systems.
“Probably not officially, but effectively yes.” She seemed nervous, she still fidgeted even though her voice remained smooth. Perhaps it was just the after effects of the battle she had just witnessed. Realisation that she had ridden on a ship that was at the heart of it. He couldn't tell and it seemed rude to ask her on the bridge.
He turned to Captain Wilson. “Contact captain O'Keefe and ask him to tell Major Tarkov to ensure both enemy bridge crews and all those who surrender are taken prisoner.” The Captain nodded to him and proceeded to do so.
On the screens the pods were launched at the two cripples ships, carrying their trained and deadly cargoes. It took the pods only moments to slam into the ships and burrow their way through the hulls. Sealing themselves against the ships to preserve the atmosphere inside. The marines may have been wearing fully sealed power armour but venting the atmosphere of the ships would have been counterproductive to their goals. He continued watching while switching several of the screens infront of himself and Vatia, mentally he cut her title from her name he wanted to get to know her better and maybe ridding himself of the formality would make it slightly easier.
He watched as the marines stormed out of their pods. The pods themselves deployed smoke screens and covering fire that the systems were programmed to perform to buy time for the marines to disembark. The moment the first marine cleared the smoke screen the first thing Jean-Luc noticed was the Denebian body with a pool of green blood forming under it, it's head and chest had been ruined by the pods flechette cannon. The second thing he noticed was the size of the corridor. It looked like a regular corridor as if this was a building on a planet and not on a warship.
“Is something wrong?” came the soothing voice from next to him. He noticed that she seemed to be staring at him rather than the screens.
“The ship design. The corridors are far larger than is necessary.” She looked at him as if that was an odd thing to notice, perhaps it was. However when compared to the ship they were currently aboard with it's tight corridors, frequent bulkheads and all space that could be used for system, weapons and armour being used just for that. Corridors, crew quarters and every space that could be minimized was. His own private state room, his by nature of him being the fleet commander, was at best the size of a tiny one room apartment. It did have a small tiny attached office that doubled conference room and office.
“I have seen human ships with similar designs to that.” She observed while looking at the screens, some of them now showed marines advancing through the large corridors and rooms while firing at any armed Denebian that stood in their way. Most of the marines were armed with either assault rifles or flechette guns, their weapons tore through Deneb armour and flesh. Several walls and floors on those ships were now painted with distinctive splashes of green. The speed and violence the marines were demonstrating seemed to make her shudder, he knew it wasn't the temperature which was probably a bit warmer than her ideal.
“Well, yes, of course we have ships like that. Civilian ships.” He clarified and observed the screen with her. The marines were following their orders clearly. All ship systems were being left undamaged, every unarmed Denebian was being hit with stun charges from under slung launchers and wounded but living soldiers were disarmed and given emergency first aid before being bound. He watched as on both ships marines dashed towards where they had estimated the reactor cores were located so they could secure them and prevent anyone from triggering a cascade reaction. “Ships like those have the luxury of space and can be built like that but these aren't civilian ships. Warships don't have luxuries like that. Wasting space that could be used for armour places your crew at risk, adding more armour anyway makes your ship a bigger target. You could use that space to store more munitions, more weapons or even more supplies for the crew.” He shook his head and softly stroked his beard. The Navy permitted facial hair as long as it was trimmed and kept neat.
“Our ships are more like those of the Denebians than yours in this respect.” She looked around the small and confined bridge. “To us ships like these seem odd, designed to be so confining, is it not a hindrance for the crew?”
“In some emergencies more space could prove useful but that is why an aspect of training is to teach sailors and marines how to move quickly in tightly confined spaces.” He gestured around the bridge and outside the bulkhead that could quickly seal the bridge where sailors and officers were moving quickly and with no trouble.
She didn't respond and instead observed the humans in the bridge. Jean-Luc returned his attention to the marines just to watch as a marine sergeant was fired on several times by one of the ships captains, at least he assumed it was the captain as he was still seated on what looked like a command chair. The screen showed the armours system readouts as well that reported no damage or change in the sergeants life signs as he advanced on the captain. Jean-Luc watched, as did the bridge crew of the Denebian ship, while the sergeant took the gun from the captain and crushed it before pulling up the captain and binding him. After that the captain was simply dropped to the floor with a thud.
He couldn't fault the marines for their behaviour. They were still following the rules of war and by now almost all of the enemy ships was secured with most of the crews bound and taken prisoner, the rest were laying where they had died.
He turned off most of the feeds, they weren't necessary any more and he had little interest in watching as the marines escorted the prisoners to the shuttle bays that would be used to transport them to the fleet where they could be help in the proper conditions as were demanded by the articles of war. He gestured to Commander Fahimi, who quickly moved next to him, on the opposite side to Vatia. “Canvass the fleet for enough volunteers to crew those two ships and keep them stable or shut them down while we tow them to Mahakala station for the engineers and spooks there to examine.” He knew the spooks would be just as, if not more, interested in the prisoners and anything they'd have to say.
Before Fahimi could leave to carry out that task he added. “Also have them ship both of the enemy captains here, I want to personally see their initial interrogation.” That was one reason, the other was that only the flagship had an actual and official presence from the Office of Naval Intelligence, or the spooks or devils as they were often called.
“Va...” He quickly stopped himself. “Dignitary Vatia, would you please come to my state room at your earliest convenience. I wish to discuss something with you.” She nodded and he suspected she had noticed his slip. He nodded in return and then quickly turned to Wilson. “Inform me at once if anything arises that needs my attention, otherwise proceed as planned and get the fleet ready fold to Mahakala once the troopships rejoin us and the third sector fleet arrives to take over defensive duties from us.” With that he exited the bridge and headed for his quarters.
He was seated in his quarters reading the status reports and after action reports of the ships in his fleet when there was a knock at the hatch. “Enter” He watched Vatia enter the room with some minor difficulty, she seemed to also be observing the room. Truth be told there wasn't much to see. The room was cramped and sparse. In one corner was a small door that hid his private wash room, next to it was his workstation and a few shelves for whatever personalisations he chose to bring. They weren't much, a few books and photos from his cadet days, though he did also have small winter landscape painting above the shelves. His bed was the largest thing in the room and occupied an entire side of it. Finally there was the table he was seated at that was built into an alcove with seating built from the wall, under which were where his clothes and uniforms were kept.
“This is even smaller than the quarters I have.” She had turned to look at him again with a surprised look.
“It is sufficient, I did tell you our warships don't have the luxury of space.” He leaned back a bit and gestured for her to either sit on his bed, he was quite certain it could hold her body if she needed to sit, or lean against it whichever she preferred. She did in fact rest part of her body on it. “As for your quarters, when Kathekon was modified quarters specifically designed for a weaver were added. Your quarters were designed for your comfort.”
“Why is that?” She tried to emulate his pose slightly, it looked a bit off but for a moment he found it charming. “I know it is more than the bare minimum I require, it even has the space I would require to make a minor web nest for rest though I do enjoy the hammock you provided.”
“You have a hammock?” He stared at her in surprise. “Damn, now I want a hammock. Maybe I can slide one in under personal effects.”
“Yes, I think it was gives as it is easier to sleep in, we can not sleep on our backs as you do.” He nodded to her, he knew she could straighten the front of her body out the same as a human could bow but he was also quite certain it would not be a very restful pose. “You wished to speak with me.”
“Yes there have been a few matters I wanted to discuss with you.” He set all the reports aside and got up, opening the cabinet by his workstation to turn on the kettle inside. “Would you like some tea?” He pulled out two mugs and some several tea bags.
“Oh. Yes I would.” She looked very surprised and watched while he placed the teabags, no instant tea paste for him, in the mugs and added the already boiling water.
“Sugar? Milk?” He added sugar to his own and was ready to take one of the milk packets from the tiny refrigerator that made up the bottom half of the cabinet, the kind they gave people on atmospheric passenger trip with their food. She politely declined both and took the mug in her upper hands when he handed it to her. Returning to his seat he stirred his tea and let it cool before sipping it.
With his tea in hand he looked at her as she shifted a little and rested more of her body on his bed, her legs starting to fold slightly into the space under it until they met the wall.
She sipped the tea and then met his gaze. “What did you want to discuss?”
“Well to begin I wanted to ask if you had anything you wanted to ask me?” He sipped the tea while still looking at her and sighed in contentment when the warmth pooled in his stomach.
She looked at him and drank from her mug as well, her sharp teeth visible when she did. “Yes, I am a bit surprised by how prepared you humans are for war. Have you not just had a long and prosperous peace?”
“Yes we have. We hoped the peace would last longer still.” He shrugged slightly and leaned back a little. “Hope for the best but prepare for the worst. That and our government is based on one that was a militaristic empire, so maybe something just seeped through. Maybe we humans are so accustomed to war we couldn't get rid of it in the end no matter what. You've read some of our history I'm sure, we have had so many wars. Even if we managed to stop fighting ourselves we didn't want to risk our future on the hope that any aliens we might encounter were peaceful.” He took a proper drink of his tea and enjoyed its slightly cooler warmth.
“A pessimistic attitude.” her reply was rather succinct.
“A pessimistic military lets the government be optimistic without risking the future of the species.” He leaned his head back until it rested against the wall, even here he could feel the thrumming of the powercore gently in the wall. She seemed satisfied with that. “Anything else you wanted to ask?”
“Yes but that can wait until later. I want to read some things first and do a little more research.” She set the mug down on the workstation. She had finished her tea already.
“Alright, feel free to ask any time you are ready to.” He downed the last of his own tea. “I wanted to ask what you think the response of both the Weavers and Denebians will be to what happened here?”
“I have no idea how the Denebians will react, a battle as one sided as this is not something any of us have seen.” Her lower arms were straightening the hems of her dress, or was it a robe, he didn't know what they called their clothes.
“We got lucky. That bombardment strike worked better than I'd dared hope. If it hadn't worked that would have been a much more bloody fight, That dreadnought could have torn many of our ships apart.”
“But it didn't, instead you destroyed it before it even got a shot off at you.” She got up off the bed and moved closer to him, in the cramped quarters that didn't take much.
“Like I said, we got lucky. That barrage could easily have bounced in any direction after it skipped off the atmosphere.” He glanced into his empty mug before returning her gaze again. “We also got lucky when they broke. Without that they could still have damaged us badly, especially our escorts.”
“I wouldn't know, of course it isn't the destruction of the fleet they will react to but rather its disappearance.” She took his mug from the table and turned to make them both new cups of tea.
While her back was turned and she was making the tea he noticed her lower arms again rubbing her cephalothorax again. “And the Weavers. How will your people react to this.”
Her back was still to him as she seemed to be examining his tea cabinet. “With relief. Joy and relief. My people are going to be overjoyed that we are allied with you. I think this will stop us from falling into a despair that would have given the Denebians a large advantage. Though I don't know what their goal in this war is.”
“Neither do we, but we do have quite a few prisoners who might be able to answer that question.” She turned and handed him his cup of tea, he noticed she had forgotten to remove the teabag but had added the sugar so he didn't really mind.
“You are going to interrogate them?” She sipped her own tea and seemed to notice her mistake when the teabag bumped into her 'lips'.
“The intelligence officers on board this ship are going to interrogate some of them, however that will only be some preliminary questioning. There are proper facilities on Mahakala station along with more staff who are better qualified for it.” He watched her try to surreptitiously pick the teabag from her mug and then stare at his.
“Do you think they will tell you anything.” She got the teabag out when she thought he wasn't looking.
“I don't know. We lack any real experience interrogating them. If they were humans I'd say they might let something slip but probably wouldn't intentionally tell us anything.” He drank some more tea and then moved his cup so when she looked down she could easily see the teabag floating in the cup.
He leaned his head back for a moment and then looked at her again. “We'll still try and see what they tell us.” He lifted his mug to take another drink and noticed the teabag had disappeared and couldn't help but glance at her hands, all four of which were innocently relaxed against her sides.
She nodded and finished the rest of her tea. “Was there anything else?”
“Just two things.” He looked in her eyes “I want you to come and observe the interrogations of the captains. You might be able to provide insights the rest of us can't.” He got up and took both mugs, setting them aside so he could clean them in his sink in the wash room.
He turned back to her leaning against the door. “Finally, the legionnaires and drones have thus far found nineteen surviving weavers in escape pods on the surface of Kepler-4b. Some properly good news at least.”
She nodded before leaving the room.
Submitted December 06, 2017 at 03:48AM by Kitedtk http://ift.tt/2jUTgn9 HFY
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