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Preparations
© 2021 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
Foxena
Fifteen days.
The number changed each day, but Felix knew it by heart. He also knew that dwelling on the countdown was distracting him from other, more important subjects, but the figure still hovered in the back of his mind.
The politicians had acclaimed his son Vladmir as Emperor, with a Regency composed of the ten-year old’s mother, the heads of the legislature and several trusted admirals. It was the best arrangement that he could devise with the time and resources that he had at paw. Of course, it wasn’t perfect, no plan ever was, and he knew this fact.
Just as knowing that no plan survives contact with reality. He had, he hoped, built enough flexibility into his plans that it could survive by adapting itself to changing conditions.
The Indochinese leopard tapped his fingertips together and looked past his paws at the roebuck who stood across the desk from him. ‘M’ returned the look impassively and Felix asked, “What do we know of conditions on Lalande?”
‘M’ closed his eyes briefly, opened them. “Operatives in the Terran delegation report that Thorpe-jih is cooperating fully with the Kashlani, in accordance with your orders through Minister Mendez. The Colonial delegation has withdrawn, and the Kashlanin Fleet is reinforcing their defenses in the system.”
“What is the probability that their Emperor will come to Lalande?”
“Very small probability, Majesty,” the roebuck admitted. “We project that even if he did want to accept your surrender in person, his advisers would prevent him from doing it.”
“Hmm.” Felix smiled. “Well, it was just a thought.”
‘M’ matched the smile. “Yes, Majesty. We’ve determined who assisted in Admiral Gromov’s escape from custody.”
“Who?” Gromov hadn’t been seen since he’d been discovered missing from Titan.
“Admiral Schalke.”
Felix chuckled. The red panda had criticized a few of his strategic decisions, although her loyalty stubbornly remained beyond question. “I’ll speak with Schalke,” the leopard said. “Maybe she’ll even listen to me.”
“You don’t want her arrested?”
He shook his head. “She’s a loyal officer, and there are some who look up to her.” Felix chuckled. “Ironic, when you take her height into account. Have her watched, of course, in case she’s up to something.”
“Yes, Majesty.” The roebuck bowed and left at Felix’s gesture. After the door had closed, the leopard accessed the fleet communication net for a secure connection to Centauri.
The screen cleared to show a red panda femme, who looked up and immediately sat up. “Majesty,” Schalke Rikki said.
“At ease, Admiral,” Felix said. “This is a secure channel, and I want to talk to you – about Gromov Feranq.”
The red panda’s gaze hardened. “So. You know.”
“You couldn’t keep it a secret forever, you know.”
“You can’t fault me for trying.”
“No, I can’t.”
“So,” Schalke asked, “when can I expect the Special Service agents to come for me?”
Felix smiled. “I had thought we could talk without bringing them into it. Is Feranq all right?”
“He’s safe.”
“That’s good. You do know about the Kashlanin terms.”
“Of course. And I won’t let you make Gromov into the scapegoat.”
Felix did something that made the red panda’s ears flick backward in surprise. He laughed. “Rikki, Feranq’s not part of this. For all the shlani know, Gromov’s dead – and I don’t plan on telling them otherwise. No, it’s enough that me and some of Doren’s planning staff die.”
“So - ?”
“So Gromov can come out of hiding, with an assumed identity of course,” Felix said equably, “and he can retire to his estate and write bad poetry for the rest of his life. I won’t be able to care, as you know.”
Schalke’s eyebrows drew together. “You really think they’ll kill you?” He nodded, and she asked, “And you’re just going to let them, Felix?”
The leopard sighed. “It’s either me, or Terra. My life, for billions. Now, let Gromov know that he doesn’t need to hide, and I’ll have Navy Intelligence craft a new identity for him.” He glanced aside at his padd. “I have another meeting coming up. Good-bye, Rikki.”
She sat up straighter and saluted. “Your Majesty,” and the screen went blank.
As he prepared for another meeting, Felix sighed. Well, he’d at least made sure that one of the furs marked for death by the Kashlani would escape.
Something that he couldn’t do for himself.
© 2021 by Walter Reimer
Thumbnail art by
FoxenaFifteen days.
The number changed each day, but Felix knew it by heart. He also knew that dwelling on the countdown was distracting him from other, more important subjects, but the figure still hovered in the back of his mind.
The politicians had acclaimed his son Vladmir as Emperor, with a Regency composed of the ten-year old’s mother, the heads of the legislature and several trusted admirals. It was the best arrangement that he could devise with the time and resources that he had at paw. Of course, it wasn’t perfect, no plan ever was, and he knew this fact.
Just as knowing that no plan survives contact with reality. He had, he hoped, built enough flexibility into his plans that it could survive by adapting itself to changing conditions.
The Indochinese leopard tapped his fingertips together and looked past his paws at the roebuck who stood across the desk from him. ‘M’ returned the look impassively and Felix asked, “What do we know of conditions on Lalande?”
‘M’ closed his eyes briefly, opened them. “Operatives in the Terran delegation report that Thorpe-jih is cooperating fully with the Kashlani, in accordance with your orders through Minister Mendez. The Colonial delegation has withdrawn, and the Kashlanin Fleet is reinforcing their defenses in the system.”
“What is the probability that their Emperor will come to Lalande?”
“Very small probability, Majesty,” the roebuck admitted. “We project that even if he did want to accept your surrender in person, his advisers would prevent him from doing it.”
“Hmm.” Felix smiled. “Well, it was just a thought.”
‘M’ matched the smile. “Yes, Majesty. We’ve determined who assisted in Admiral Gromov’s escape from custody.”
“Who?” Gromov hadn’t been seen since he’d been discovered missing from Titan.
“Admiral Schalke.”
Felix chuckled. The red panda had criticized a few of his strategic decisions, although her loyalty stubbornly remained beyond question. “I’ll speak with Schalke,” the leopard said. “Maybe she’ll even listen to me.”
“You don’t want her arrested?”
He shook his head. “She’s a loyal officer, and there are some who look up to her.” Felix chuckled. “Ironic, when you take her height into account. Have her watched, of course, in case she’s up to something.”
“Yes, Majesty.” The roebuck bowed and left at Felix’s gesture. After the door had closed, the leopard accessed the fleet communication net for a secure connection to Centauri.
The screen cleared to show a red panda femme, who looked up and immediately sat up. “Majesty,” Schalke Rikki said.
“At ease, Admiral,” Felix said. “This is a secure channel, and I want to talk to you – about Gromov Feranq.”
The red panda’s gaze hardened. “So. You know.”
“You couldn’t keep it a secret forever, you know.”
“You can’t fault me for trying.”
“No, I can’t.”
“So,” Schalke asked, “when can I expect the Special Service agents to come for me?”
Felix smiled. “I had thought we could talk without bringing them into it. Is Feranq all right?”
“He’s safe.”
“That’s good. You do know about the Kashlanin terms.”
“Of course. And I won’t let you make Gromov into the scapegoat.”
Felix did something that made the red panda’s ears flick backward in surprise. He laughed. “Rikki, Feranq’s not part of this. For all the shlani know, Gromov’s dead – and I don’t plan on telling them otherwise. No, it’s enough that me and some of Doren’s planning staff die.”
“So - ?”
“So Gromov can come out of hiding, with an assumed identity of course,” Felix said equably, “and he can retire to his estate and write bad poetry for the rest of his life. I won’t be able to care, as you know.”
Schalke’s eyebrows drew together. “You really think they’ll kill you?” He nodded, and she asked, “And you’re just going to let them, Felix?”
The leopard sighed. “It’s either me, or Terra. My life, for billions. Now, let Gromov know that he doesn’t need to hide, and I’ll have Navy Intelligence craft a new identity for him.” He glanced aside at his padd. “I have another meeting coming up. Good-bye, Rikki.”
She sat up straighter and saluted. “Your Majesty,” and the screen went blank.
As he prepared for another meeting, Felix sighed. Well, he’d at least made sure that one of the furs marked for death by the Kashlani would escape.
Something that he couldn’t do for himself.
Category Story / General Furry Art
Species Leopard
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 50.7 kB
Listed in Folders
Hmmmph....one could be forgiven for feeling sorry for Felix, but one has to remind oneself of this story which is one of a few the Confederacy's Colonies know all too well about what he's like.
I don't feel sorry for him at all.
I don't feel sorry for him at all.
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