Dockyard
© 2021 by Walter Reimer


Thumbnail art by  wom-bat


“What do you mean, your stockpile is depleted?” Meredith said to the unsmiling tiger on her padd’s screen. Her ears were back and her nostrils flared in irritation, and two members of the crew slipped out of the A Quiet Life’s dining area. “We might have to load up and leave on short notice – we need that deuterium.”

The tiger sighed and held up his paws palms out in a placating gesture. “Look, Captain, I sympathize, I really do. All the fuel right now’s earmarked for the warships, and the refinery’s working just as fast as it can to refill our tankage. You’re not the first merchanter who’s been up under my tail about this, and I’m telling you the same thing I told them: When we have enough, you’ll all get refueled.”

“How long will that take?”

“Maybe a week. We’re building two more deuterium refineries, but they won’t be online for months. Smooth?”

“Not very, but all right. Sorry to bother you,” and as the screen went blank the golden palomino mare thought she saw a relieved look on the tiger’s face. She suddenly thumped the table in front of her with her fists. “Deus,” she muttered, “it’s finally happened.”

“What’s that?” Jax asked.

The mare sighed, letting the anger drain out of her. “I’m turning into Mikhal – what?”

The rat turned around from watching his coffee pouring into his mug and was eyeing her. “Not a chance. You’re prettier than Kwinton.”

One of the junior engineers giggled.

Meredith glowered at her day shift crew. “What are you all still doing here?” she asked. “I gave everyone liberty.”

“Well, people do need to come back here to put shopping up,” Jax said, “or just check up on things. What about you? Your parents are here.”

The mare snorted and said, “Marie’s busy at the meat farm – both Terran and Kashlanin, and Thea’s been called in to work as well. Javid’s home with my brothers,” and she abruptly chuckled.

“What?” Jax asked.

“Oh, you should see it,” Meredith giggled. “Javimir and Javiberto are breast-fed, and Marie and Thea do what they can, but they put my father on hormones so he can help out. They started before we left for Indawo.” The rat’s jaw dropped and she added, “His breasts are almost as big as mine now, so he’s taking his turn feeding my brothers.”

Jax looked horrified. He looked down at his own chest before looking back up at Meredith. “That’s – wow, they can do that?”

The mare nodded. “They told me that they threatened to do that to him when I was born.” She shrugged. “It’s reversible, of course,” and she laughed despite her mood when Jax shuddered. “What?”

“The idea’s disturbing,” the rat said, his long naked tail trembling. He clutched his coffee mug and took a fortifying sip. “Where’s Fuji?”

“Planetside,” Meredith replied, “up in the mountains. He’s Gaiaist, and that’s how he worships. I give him the space to do it.” She sipped at her beer. “I’ll be headed down to This Far in a short while. Javid’s making curry, and I don’t want to miss it.” She stretched and added, “I wanted to see about getting us fueled up – if it was antimatter, I wouldn’t have been roughing about it.”

“Obviously,” Jax chuckled.


***


“Dhav tis Thorfass’n,” Varan breathed, aware that her suit microphone would pick it up. The dockyard supervisor and his team glanced at each other, but said nothing to let the higher-ranking officer have her the moment in private.

Interior sensors had given her a detailed picture of the damage to her ship, but one could be detached about a sensor display on a screen or padd.

But to stand on the edge of the yawning wound that had been revealed when the dockyard had removed the temporary hull patches and to look down and see into individual decks, illuminated by work lights and cutting torches brought the reality of it to her like a fist to her face. “How – how long?” she asked.

The supervisor stepped up to stand beside her, his tail swaying back and forth in its pressurized sleeve. “Perhaps two fēroni, Gartabin,” he said. “We must cut away all the damage and replace the decks and compartments before reconnecting the entire infrastructure, and then moving the ship to the refitting dock. The refitting would take an additional fēron due to the age of the ship requiring upgrades.”

“Understood,” Varan said. About one hundred twenty days. Most of her crew and officers would possibly be transferred to other ships, either by request or by order, based on Fleet requirements.

It hurt thinking about it, though.

She turned away from the gaping hole and started walking back to the airlock, the supervisor falling into step beside her and the rest of the surveyors a step or two behind. “You were very fortunate, Captain.”

“Thank you.” She glanced at him. “Have there been many ships brought in for repairs?”

“More than I would like to see,” the kam replied. “Will you be staying aboard the ship, Ma’am?”

“Probably not. Temporary housing is available, and it is sensible to move out of the way and let you and your personnel work unhindered.”

“Thank you, Ma’am.” They reached the lock, and she heard a tone that signaled a private-band transmission. “Ma’am?” he asked.

“Yes?”

“We’ll take good care of it for you,” he said reassuringly.

Varan smiled. “Thank you. It is a good ship, and it fights well.”

Later, in her quarters, she paused in packing the last of her belongings and picked up her padd. She had been very pleased to see that A Quiet Life was still in the system, and she queried the commnet. Yes, Meredith d’Estcourt was available, the network was querying her padd, access granted, connection established . . .

The golden palomino mare looked somewhat tired, but her expression was immediately replaced by a wide smile. “Varan, lir demef! Narchak! Aane meschfikin i’?”

Her enthusiasm and obvious pleasure in seeing her again made Varan smile in return. “Aanā meschfikin, lir demef. Are you well?” she asked, switching to Terran Basic.

“Yes, I am,” the mare replied. “Listen, if you’re going to be here a few days, I’d like to meet you.” She blinked as the vir’s expression changed. “Kras zatan aan i’, Varan?”

Varan pulled herself together. “May I come to your parents’ house? I really want to talk to you face to face.” The Terran figure of speech actually made sense.

“I’ll let them know, and you know you’re always welcome. Would,” she paused as she calculated in her head, “fifteenth cycle be good for you?”

Six cycles from now? “That will be fine, my beloved.”

“Great! See you then,” and the connection ended. Varan took a deep breath and let it out slowly before completing packing her carryall. Shouldering it, the vir left her cabin and walked through nearly-deserted corridors to the personnel airlock. Varan logged out with the sentry, and left the ship to find her assigned quarters aboard the station.

She took a shower and put on her uniform, and it occurred to her that Meredith didn’t know about her promotion yet. Aka, it would be pleasant to surprise her, and after getting dressed she found a shuttle that was headed to the planet.

Unfortunately, she was a few fractions late, and Terrans glanced at her as she walked to the d’Estcourt’s home, touched the annunciator and waited.

Her ears perked when she heard Meredith say, “I’ll get it!” and the door opened.

The mare was dressed in a pink shirt and darker pink trousers that ended just above her knees, and she made an odd squealing noise and exclaimed “Varan!” as she hugged the vir. She stepped back and said, “You look . . . look,” and her voice trailed off as her jaw dropped.

Varan brought her left arm up, palm flat against her heart to display her rank flash, a pair of outward-pointing chevrons with the Imperial Seal in the center. She smiled as she waited for Meredith, who finally gasped, “Gartabin? You’ve been promoted! That’s fantastic!”

“It’s also a very long story, love,” Varan said. “Do I have to stay out here in the street?”

“Huh! No! Come in, come in!” She seized the larger female’s hand and practically dragged her inside.

The table had been set for dinner, with one of Meredith’s co-mothers, Marie, and her father (breasts? She didn’t think she wanted the answer to the questions that swarmed in her mind) were seated with Fuji. The mare’s two brothers were in their crib in the house’s main room. The smell of the food set off alarms in her mind, but there was a seat set for her at the far end of the table; very considerate of them.

“Mom!” Meredith said while she showed her lover to her seat at the table. “Varan’s here!”

“Good,” came Thea’s voice from the kitchen. “I just got finished,” and she stepped into the dining room with a plate in her paws and set it down before the startled vir.

The smell had hit her first, and she stared at the carefully-arrayed dish of she’ehkīj. She looked up at Thea and said, “You . . . you made me Risen Star?”

“Meredith told me you liked it, and I had to try making it for you,” the older mare said. “I hope I got it right."

“So kind . . . so . . . “ The contrast hit her; the Terrans she’d fought, that had killed so many, that had killed k’Jen, compared to the kindness and hospitality . . . the corners of her mouth pulled up in a rictus . . .

Everyone looked at each other in surprise and concern as Varan unexpectedly burst into tears and put her head in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably.