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Hearth Star Stories: Blockade

By Psion

All Rights Reserved

The endless blackness of space, lifelessly still until a hyperspace ripple deposited a small flotilla of ships on the fringe of a vast asteroid belt. Several ships were vessels of the Galactic Republic, a prosperous stellar nation spanning multiple worlds and species standing for justice and order, others belonged to mercenaries and adventurers recruited to help deal with a troublesome development...

The criminal underworld was a minor if constant nuisance to life in the galaxy, between the barbarically stupid Wuffs and a number of smaller groups, there were a number of black market trade stations established in the fringes of civilized space. Few ever achieved the scale seen with the Hearth Star but just the very presence of outposts like the one hidden in this very asteroid field was enough to warrant a blockade and a raid. Mercenaries brought in on this assignment included the likes of Captain Roberts of the Direwolf_mercenary cruiser and the pilot ace Samaya leading her feared fighter squadron _The Coon's Own. The Republic itself was represented by all three groups charged with keeping it safe from the evil lingering in the darkest depths of space, the Star Corps, the Space Fleet, and the Intergalactic Police Agency.

The plan that had been put together before they jumped was that the three IPA light patrol ships, the Smaller God piloted by the jackal Officer Jenny, the Fireorca flown by the vixen Officer Luna, and the Longcriercat commanded by the surly ferret Officer Kass, were to cordon off the two main jump points into the system while the Direwolf and the Star Corps troop barge Rocket's Red Glare_moved in to board the station. _The Coon's Own would provide fighter support while the boarders made themselves at home. Lastly, the Space Fleet repair and resupply vessel the Sliver Pantry was to help the IPA maintain the blockade and provide engineering support to The Coon's Own.

It was a good plan, one that promised a quick end to hostilities if there were no unforeseen mishaps. Commander Longfoot just wished it demanded more of her and her crew but then again the Space Fleet officer wished for a lot of things lately. None of them really mattered at the moment though, the Lapeen female decided after taking a sip of replicated coffee and watched the other ships move into position from the comfort of her command couch. There were people on that station that needed help and she and her crew were doing their part to help them.

Taking her eyes off the scanner reports and the synthetic diamond view port giving them a view of the stars and ships in front of the Pantry, Longfoot quickly glanced at the rest of her seated crew on the supply vessel's sleek, well-lit bridge. Science Officer Lt. Synth on the sensors, Ensign Zedd at the helm, and the Leflin sisters on the weapons and drones. Space Fleet vessels were heavily automated so it was just the five of them... four misfits put on an unimportant ship commanded by a fifth misfit shoehorned into a posting that was technically above her rank, the ship regularly given assignments that the Admiralty didn't think particularly highly of. Which begged the question... it must have been the remoteness of the system. Guess it really was possible to be "the only available ship in the sector."

As the portly rabbit sat reflecting in her couch, the battle began in earnest. The asteroid belt silently twinkled with the fire of laser weapons, superheated railgun slugs, and exploding missiles as system-wide audio communications provided a suitable substitute for the sounds deafened by the vacuum of space. Pirates and smugglers screamed and scrambled to escape while the mercenaries and star marines whooped and cheered. Taking light-lag into account, sensor reports appeared promising. The battle was going well and it looked like no one was going to test the cordon set up by Longfoot and the IPA officers...

And then one broke free. One sensor profile broke free from the mass of fighters and started barreling towards the Sliver Pantry. Dodging fighters, weaving through colliding asteroids that should have crushed his ship, and the sound of a cackling madman suddenly dominating the public channel. Longfoot took one look at the position of her available allies, all three of the IPA ships were at the other jump point, and made her decision.

"Raise shields and power weapons." She ordered, activating the alarm for General Quarters on her command console. Almost immediately all nonessential systems shut down and the ship's automated repair systems were put on standby as a warning klaxon echoed through the ship. "This may not be a combat ship but I'll be a Wuff's whore if I let some outlaw just run right past me." The brown-furred rabbit doe added, staring at the approaching pirate vessel with narrowed eyes.

Immediately the Lapeen twins went into action, moving with such perfect synchronization that Longfoot could have sworn they were telepathic. "Shields are at maximum and weapons are ready to fire on your orders." Lai Leflin replied.

"Drone warfare suite is also primed and ready for your command." Lai's sister Sil Leflin added dutifully.

Deep down Longfoot desperately wanted to smile as she rested a hand on her generous paunch. Misfits my doublewide ass, I'd like to see the officers that got us here operate this smoothly. She thought ever so briefly, keeping her expression neutral. "Open an audio channel, I want to make sure I have his undivided attention."

Ensign Zedd did as he was ordered. Longfoot occasionally wondered what must go through his mind at times, being the only male crewman on the ship, but if he was secretly entertaining all manner of tawdry fantasies then he was careful to avoid letting it show or interfere with his job. Which is more then she could say for herself, mentally sprouting exposition like this.

"Unidentified vessel, this is Commander Longfoot of the GRSS Sliver Pantry! You are under arrest on charges of black marketeering with the Wuffs of Trade Station Wannabang, power down your engines and surrender!" She ordered, secretly amazed that she managed to keep a straight face through that. Trade Station Wannabang in the "The Neighborhood" star system, what was it with Wuffs and idiotic names?

"Piss off and get out of my way you overstuffed cow!" The still unidentified outlaw growled.

Longfoot's straight ears twitched ever so slightly as she shook her head and closed the channel. "Very well then, launch a fighter drone to disable his weapons and target his engines with all batteries, let's see if he's more polite once he's dead in the void." The ship's commander replied with an approving nod. Time to demonstrate Space Fleet firepower to this inconsiderate yokel.

While hardly comparable to the awe-inspiring might of their battleships, Space Fleet made sure that even their support ships had enough firepower to deter minor pirate attacks and other petty hoodlums. The Sliver Pantry in particular boasted a light drone warfare suite, containing the equipment and materials for launching a handful of boarding and fighter drones, as well as a pair of fully automatic plasma turrets for a more personal touch. The instant the bandit vessel was in range, both of the Leflin twins made him sample the ship's full arsenal. Plasma fire raked the enemy's engines while a drone fighter was launched, targeting and disabling weapons. The ship briefly shook as their cackling madman managed to return fire, the shields absorbing the worst of the attack.

Brought to a relative halt, the brigand wasted no time opening a video channel, allowing both parties to finally see each other face to face. Longfoot had to admit she was surprised, given his apparent insanity and lack of manners, she was expecting to be greeted by one of the lupine Wuffs with their gravity-defying neon-colored hair styles. Instead the pilot of the other ship was a... feline of some sort. Honestly his red mane was so ridiculously thick she wouldn't have been able to tell what he was were it not for the two cat ears on the top of his head. Other then the vague hint of an eyepatch over his left eye, his hair completely covered his face. She was surprised he could even see. Yet apparently he could judging by his response.

"You got to be kidding me. Three thunder butt bunnies and a horse with a serious case of cargo gut? At least cheetah girl back there got some nice titties." He cackled, gesturing to Lt. Synth and her plush hourglass.

Longfoot was less then impressed. "Mr..."

"The name's Starfang salad muncher. You must be new to these parts, I'm kind of a big deal." He interjected, puffing up his chest and giving them a great view of a notarized t-shirt for some Acid Metal band Commander Longfoot never heard of.

We eat more than salads you twit. She thought to herself, continuing on without missing a beat. "Mr. Starfang, you stand to be charged with piracy, smuggling, and possibly slave-trading as well. Two of those offenses are punishable by death in the Galactic Republic so I suggest you give me a very good reason why I shouldn't save my government the expense of a trial."

Starfang laughed. "Oh really now? You destroy my ship and you'll be killing over a dozen women and children." He laughed with a smug grin on his face.

Longfoot wordlessly turned her head towards Synth. The black-haired cheetah silently pressed a few buttons then shook her head and shrugged. The Lapeen commander understood, Starfang's cargo hold was shielded from remote sensor scans. There was no way to tell electronically if he was lying or not.

"Alright then, prove it." She replied, turning her attention back to the tawny-furred feline on her view screen.

"What?" The pirate blinked, apparently picturing this conversation going somewhat differently.

"Did I stutter? Mr. Starfang, our protocols for hostage negotiations are very clear. We cannot discuss any sort of exchange without proof of life. If you have hostages, we must demand that you go get one and put them on screen with you. The longer you hesitate, the more I am tempted to believe that you are, as the Wuffs say, full of shit." Longfoot intoned calmly. Did this idiot really think she was that stupid? She failed the academy test for hostage negotiations once because she forgot to ask for proof of life, every cadet did, but none that earned their commission made the same mistake twice.

The Space Fleet officer wished Starfang knew how to cut his damn hair so she had more then his awkward silence and her imagination to tell her that there were beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Finally, after what felt like more time then she should have given him, he rose to his feet. "I'll be... right back." He said hastily and left the helm.

The broad-hipped bunny with short curly blond hair muted the audio for a second and turned to her crew. "This ought to be good. Either he has one or he's going to try and fabricate one to insult our intelligence further."

"What is our plan commander?" Lt. Synth asked.

"He's stalling, likely to set up some sort of trap so he can escape and maybe take us prisoner while he's at it." Cmdr. Longfoot mused before turning to the twins. "Recall the fighter and prepare a pair of boarding drones." She ordered.

"Do you find it odd that he would go through this much trouble if he was just smuggling drugs or weapons?" The science officer asked.

"When are people ever rational Roc?" The rabbit asked her friend in turn. "But you're right, which is why we're going to board him instead of just destroy him or leave him for the IPA." She answered as Starfang sat back down on the other end of the video feed. Was it her imagination or was his eye patch now on the other eye?

Turning the audio back on, the crew of the Sliver Pantry stared in ludicrous disbelief as the feline brought a sock puppet on screen. "Please save me." The puppet begged feebly. "My mommy and daddy miss me so much."

"Mr. Starfang..." Longfoot began, trying to find the words to express the exact level of infuriation currently bubbling inside her. "Prepare to be boarded." She said at last, terminating the connection without another word. "Launch the boarding drones, we've already given this moron more then enough rope to hang himself with." She ordered her crew.

Launching the drones and bringing up a split screen display on the view screen, the twins both took control of a boarding robot just as the machines finished cutting their way through the airlock and into engineering. As soon as they were inside, Starfang sprung his trap. The majority of the ship filled up with a gas that was designed to either kill or incapacitate the crew. Unfortunately for the feline it did nothing to the drones, allowing the Leflin sisters to explore the small, cramped transport unhindered. Starfang himself thought he was clever, slipping on a respirator and sneaking through the gassed rooms with a duralloy cutlass in hand. The look of complete surprise on his face when he encountered the drones was priceless. The resulting battle was as violent as it was short, the pirate managed to take one drone down with an EMP grenade only to get mauled by the other, ending the criminal career of Starfang with a brisk hail of gunfire.

On the return trip back to their ship, the twins came across something that made Longfoot do a double take. On cue, the sisters moved in closer to get a better look. A chill ran down the officer's spine when she saw that she wasn't imagining things. "Synth, find a way to remotely interface with Starfang's ship and vent that gas so we can board it properly. Zedd, send a message to the other ships and tell them what we found."

There, sleeping peacefully inside a row of stasis tubes, were life forms she had been briefed on before this assignment but never expected to see. Arranged neatly in a row, with relatively flat faces, furless except for a clump of hair on their heads, and with skin tones ranging from an earthen brown all the way to a pinkish white, was a cargo of humans. The Wuffs really were peddling slaves from pre-stellar civilizations...