Star Cat: Killer Instinct

by Andrew Mackay

  No, as it turns out.

  “I’m n-not hassled, Jelly. I just don’t feel too well.”

  Jelly looked him over and wiggled her nostrils around his face, “You look fine to me.”

  Jaycee cleared his throat, wanting to interject, “Tripp?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Maybe we should just tell her?”

  Tripp’s face fell as Jelly’s curiosity piqued. He hung his head in shame and moved forward, revealing the bloodied, broken hatch window behind his head.

  “What happened to the door?” Jelly shoved Tripp out of the way and sniffed around the shards of thick glass, “Blood?”

  “Look, Jelly. There’s no easy way to tell you this, but—”

  “—But what?” Jelly’s heart began to thump. The scent from the blood wasn’t that of a human. “Tell me, Healy.”

  Jaycee nodded at his Captain, “It’s for the best, mate.”

  CREAK.

  The walkway rumbled slightly, but not enough for the crew to notice. The lights shimmied off and on for a brief second - again, unnoticed by all concerned.

  Jelly lost her patience as Tripp stumbled over his decision to tell her what she needed to know, “Tell me. What do you know that I don’t?”

  “Now, don’t get angry,” Tripp said. “But, when we crashed here, we—”

  CRREEEAAAAAAAKK.

  The walkway rumbled again, this time twice as loud and violent. The walls shook for three seconds. The cause of the commotion was occurring outside.

  “What was that?”

  BZZOOOOOOWWWW.

  The lights snapped off in a split-second. The emergency strip lights snaked down the sides of the walkway, offering little in the way of light.

  “Power’s off,” Jaycee said as the airlock lit up from inside. “Manny? Alex?”

  “They can’t hear us,” Tripp scanned the ceiling.

  THUD-BOOOOOM.

  “Jesus,” Tripp flinched and looked over his shoulder at the airlock, “What the hell was that?”

  The walls vibrated like pneumatic drill.

  Jelly clutched her daughter to her bosom for protection.

  “Miew,” the kitten squealed, frightened out of its fur.

  “Shhh, honey,” Jelly whispered. “Mommy will look after you.”

  RUUUUUMMMBBLE-SCHTOMP-SCHTOMP.

  “Guys?”

  A tinny voice came from Tripp’s wrist, “Opera Charlie Team. Does anyone read me?”

  Tripp lifted his Individimedia to his face and stepped away from the airlock with the others.

  “Yes, Alex? This is Tripp. Something’s happening down—”

  “—I know, I know,” Alex interrupted. “There was an explosion outside about two minutes ago.”

  “Yes, we know.”

  “There’s something approaching Primary Airlock One.”

  Jaycee unhooked his Rez-9 from his belt. Tripp spotted him and grabbed his wrist.

  “No, wait,” Tripp spoke into his forearm, “What do you mean something approaching?”

  BOOM-BOOM-BOOM.

  The ship rocked back and forth, followed by a heavy gurgling noise, like that of a congested air passage trying to breathe.

  “It’s big. According to the drone, there’s more than one of them. I advise you seal off the walkway and get back to control till we figure out what the hell is going on—”

  A God-like grunt reverberated along the walkway.

  Then, a sound of sucking, which morphed into a deafening, guttural sound.

  “Mah-shta-zee-tah.”

  Vicious-sounding animal howls flew through the shattered airlock glass and into the walkway.

  “We gotta get out of here,” Tripp yelled.

  “No,” Jelly roared.

  Tripp and Jaycee reached the end of the walkway and yelled after Jelly, “What are y-you doing?”

  She remained by the airlock, not wanting to escape. If anything, she wanted to investigate the source of the commotion even further.

  She lowered her head, and held her baby up at Tripp.

  “Take her.”

  “What?” Jaycee blurted, keen on getting as far away from the event as possible, “Are you crazy?”

  “Yes,” Jelly whined as her ears flicked.

  “Mah-Shta-Zee-Taaaaaah,” the voice from outside bellowed, this time conforming to the intense draught blowing in through the airlock window.

  SCHTOMP-SCHTOMP.

  The walkway shunted forty-five degrees to the left, turning the floor onto its side. The shift in gravity forced Jaycee, Tripp, and Jelly to slide against the far wall.

  “Something’s out there,” Tripp spat. “It’s attacking the ship.”

  “You don’t say,” Jaycee quipped with sarcasm and laid eyes on Jelly once again.

  She stepped toward the airlock and peered through the window, “Hissss.”

  “She’s seen something,” Tripp hollered after Jelly, “Don’t go out there—”

  “—Take care of her.” She hurled her daughter up the walkway, knowing Jaycee was adept enough to catch her.

  The kitten tumbled through the air, rocketing towards Jaycee’s open arms.

  WHUMP.

  Jaycee caught the kitten and yanked Tripp by the arm, “Okay. Let’s go.”

  “What about Jelly?”

  They both turned to the airlock. The door was open, and Jelly had walked through.

  “She can look after herself, I guess. Curiosity seems to have gotten the better of her.”

  “Jelly, don’t go out there.”

  She turned to him and scowled, “No. I want to go out.”

  Tripp turned the corner and tried his best to keep upright walking along the slanted floor, “Alex, this is Tripp. Are the comms still down?”

  “Until Manny gets us the diagnostic report, yes. Where are you?”

  Tripp glanced at the kitten in Jaycee’s arms as they made for the control deck, “We’re on our way without Jelly.”

  “Where is she?”

  “She’s gone out to investigate.”

  “What? What do you mean investigate?” Alex asked. “She can’t go out there on her own.”

  Tripp reached the control deck and opened the door, “Yeah. You wanna come down here and stop her?”

  Alex looked up from the comms deck to see Tripp and Jaycee walk in. He dropped the keyboard and marched up to them.

  “What do you mean she’s gone to investigate? Why did you let her go out there on her own?”

  “You try telling her not to and see how it pans out for you,” Tripp said. “She’s still a cat, remember.”

  “And we all know what curiosity does to them” Jaycee huffed.

  Alex saw the white kitten in Jaycee’s arms, “I see she’s safe and sound?”

  “For now,” Jaycee lowered the white bundle of fluff to the ground and let her run free. She hit the deck and spotted her sister, Furie.

  “Hiss—”

  “—Hissss,” the white kitten returned fire, giving as good as she got.

  Jaycee watched the two kittens square off ten feet away from each other in the middle of the control deck.

  “Shall we leave them in here to fight it out?”

  “Wait, wait. They’ve just met,” Tripp held him back and hushed his voice. “Let’s see what happens.”

  The white kitten trundled closer to Furie, careful not to get too close, and froze.

  Furie trained her eyes on her younger sibling and flapped her tail. A distant whine came from her belly as she sized up her opponent.

  Alex shook his head, “We don’t have time for this, guys—”

  “—No, Alex,” Tripp nodded at the girls on the floor, “Wait. Watch. I’m not sure they’re going to fight.”

  White tested Furie’s temperament by throwing her left paw forward and scraping the floor.

  Furie shuffled forward cautiously. She wasn’t about to back down anytime soon.

  “Grrrrr,” White retracted her arm, somehow managing to startle hers
elf. She half-expected her new foe to attack, but found the lack of action even more scary.

  “Miew,” White shifted to the side, getting a good look at Furie, who enacted the same movement.

  The two kittens circled one another, slapping their tails against the ground.

  “Hissss,” Furie’s tail bushed out, threatening to pounce.

  White reached Jaycee’s leg quite unannounced and bopped her head on his shin.

  “Whoa,” he said. “Be careful with that head.”

  White looked up and wiggled her nose at him. Something seemed wrong, “Miew.”

  “What do you want, little one? Mommy’s not here.”

  Without warning, White jumped up at Jaycee’s right knee and clawed at his exo-suit.

  “Maaooww.”

  “Hey, get off,” Jaycee complained.

  Tripp and Alex chuckled as they watched White attack Jaycee’s leg with her paws.

  Alex covered his mouth, embarrassed on Jaycee’s behalf, “Aww. Seems she’s made a new friend.”

  “Meow,” White added, hopping from her hind legs in an attempt to climb up Jaycee’s leg.

  “What are they doing?” Tripp asked as Furie wandered over to Jaycee’s left leg and sniffed around.

  “How should I know? They’re trying to scratch my suit off.”

  “Miew,” Furie hollered at her sister and shook her head. White scowled and pawed at Jaycee’s knee once again.

  Furie sprinted over to her sister and tilted her head up to Jaycee’s face, “Hissss.”

  “Okay. They’re creeping me out, now,” Jaycee said.

  “Meow,” Furie batted White away and pushed her across the floor.

  The two kittens engaged in a tussle, clawing and pawing at each other.

  “Hey, hey, hey,” Alex barked at them. “Stop that.”

  “They really don’t like your leg, Jaycee,” Tripp said.

  “Must be the suit.”

  He was greeted by a dual-hiss from both kittens. They eventually calmed down and slumped to their sides, exhausted.

  “Like mother like daughters, huh?” Tripp asked.

  “In the sense that they’re insane? I’d say that assessment is spot on,” Jaycee added.

  ***

  Opera Charlie had landed somewhere unknown. A barren, rock-covered wasteland surrounded the ship.

  GRUNT.

  A shuffling came from within the trees a few yards away from the ship.

  SHUFFLE.

  “Heh,” a low-pitched grunt came from behind the bark. “Mah-shta-zee-taaaaaah.”

  LAP-LAP.

  A pair of yellow eyes formed in the darkness accompanied by a loud snort.

  The pyramid-shaped retinas closed.

  A row of razor-sharp, silver fangs spread under the bulbous eyes like an accordion.

  The beast grunted and scraped the ground. It pushed forward through the foliage by the tree and growled with anger.

  “Whuh,” a much bigger beast shuffled forward and prevented the beast from exiting.

  The smaller beast looked into the sky.

  Saturn seemed to float like a blob in a lava lamp against the dark blue palette of space. A fireball tore a streak of pink and purple across the canvas of space, headed straight for the giant Goddess.

  The shaft of light bled up the face of the beast.

  A jagged contour of a skull resembling a wolf. Its silver fangs reflected the light from Saturn.

  “Grrrr,” it took a step back and sidled up to its master, who remained in the darkness.

  SCHWIP.

  The beast’s lengthy tongue hung down its chin as it turned to face Opera Charlie.

  The outer airlock hatch slid up.

  “Grrrr,” the beast lowered its body and scowled at the image unfolding a hundred feet away.

  Jelly had to lower her head and shoulders in order to exit Opera Charlie’s outer airlock hatch.

  Her left boot was first out of the ship and hit the soft, muddy ground.

  She straightened her back and rolled her shoulders, finally free from the height constrictions of the airlock.

  No one seemed to be around.

  Unaware she was being watched, she took another step forward and inhaled.

  “Grrrrr,” the beast wanted to approach her, but the master in the darkness wouldn’t let him forward.

  “Muh… schta,” the voice said. “Zee-tah.”

  The beast whined as it felt a carpal ball from a much larger paw run across the top of his head. The creature whined and closed his eyes shut - it knew what was coming next.

  One by one, four razor sharp talons rolled down the front of its face. It found the paw from its master comforting, but knew he was not to make his presence known to the foreign entity exiting the new toy that had landed on their turf.

  “Mashta,” its master grunted into its ear and removed his paw from the creature’s face, “Heh.”

  Both beasts, small and large, shuffled back into the trees and made themselves scarce.

  Jelly lifted her knee and wiggled her foot around before exploring the vast wasteland before her.

  She sniffed three times. The undeniable stench of death filled the air. Her ears twitched against her will.

  Saturn seemed to smile down on her from hundreds of the thousands of miles away in the sky.

  She clutched her chest in reverence at the magnificent sight and stepped forward.

  Jelly had gotten used to Jaycee’s exo-suit hand-me-down. Despite being a clear six inches taller than him, the gear fit like a glove.

  She was armed and ready for anything coming her way.

  Or so she thought.

  Jelly exercised her infinity claws before walking off and exploring her new environs. The air was as breathable as it had been back on Earth. It was quite unlike Pink Symphony, which had a decidedly metallic taste.

  As she moved forward and stepped over the rocks, she saw a smoldering patch of black on the floor. Next to it lay a discarded grenade shell.

  “Huh?”

  She crouched down to inspect the battered, smoking red shell.

  “A dumb bomb?”

  Why on Earth - or any planet, for that matter - would a dumb bomb have exploded outside the ship? How could it have happened here?

  A quick glance at Opera Charlie from the distance filled the blanks in her mind.

  The ceramic surrounding the airlock hatch had been the result of a battering. Scratch marks up and down the sides of the exterior door she’d walked through only moments ago.

  Curious, still, was whatever had caused the damage to the airlock had also managed to push the ship forty-five degrees onto its side.

  It made Jelly scan the horizon in haste. Something was definitely out here, and she knew it.

  Jelly Anderson faced a choice.

  She could turn back to the safety of the ship and await good news.

  The second choice was more enticing, though - investigate further and try to find answers on her own.

  She couldn’t live with herself if she returned to the ship without a thorough rummage around. That, and her catty instincts compelled her to stick her nose in where it might not be wanted.

  The beautiful view was too welcoming to refuse.

  Haze from Saturn’s glare formed over the horizon, creating a serene and calming visual effect. If Heaven existed, it might have looked like the view Jelly had.

  Full of energy and confidence, she extended her arms and prepared herself for a new adventure.

  Crunch, crunch, crunch.

  The ground cracked as she walked over it. Remnants of dried mud jumped up at side of her boots. Keeping one’s balance proved to be something of a challenge around here.

  The only available light came from the giant planet hanging in the sky. It cast eerie shadows along the ground from the surrounding trees and voluminous rocks.

  Then, something shone in the distance. Something white and lopsided. It seemed so out of place given the cadaverous nature of the setti
ng.

  WHUMP-WHUMP-CRACK.

  The knee-high rocks busted apart like charcoal as Jelly sprinted along them. They weren’t quite as strong as they appeared to be.

  Jelly stood seven-and-a-half-feet tall but she didn’t consider herself especially heavy. The ground confused her. It was like walking through a discarded bonfire.

  The white object in the distance grew larger the closer she got to it. It seemed to have wings, diving nose-first into what looked like a series of miniature trees.

  The foliage drifted around in the gentle breeze that brushed past Jelly’s shoulders as she continued to towards it.

  BZZZZZ. SHHHHH.

  The sound of radio static emanated from the white thing stuck in the distance. An undecipherable dialog followed before being swamped by the hiss it produced.

  There it was.

  A crashed spacecraft.

  It wasn’t from USARIC’s fleet.

  Strange writing adorned the side of the ship.

  No one was around, but that strange hissing noise continued to rumble from the shattered door.

  “Miew,” Jelly sniffed around the front and peered inside the shattered windshield. A blood-covered pilot’s seat hung towards the ground.

  She placed her infinity claws on the side as she walked around to the open side door - not so much ‘open’ as absolutely decimated by something - or someone.

  A bizarre squeal came from the radio inside, as if trying to tune itself to a frequency where someone may hear the call. The voice was unintelligible. It didn’t sound American or English. If anything, it had a distinctly eastern European bent to it.

  Jelly hoisted herself in through the door, quenching her curiosity. The back cabin was a disaster area; shattered bunk beds, broken up and twisted around the metal housing clamped to the ceiling and floor.

  The walls had been pulverized beyond recognition.

  The pilot area didn’t fare much better.

  The glass had cracked out like a cobweb. A fight had taken place, and the passengers evidently hadn’t survived.

  But where were they?

  A pool of dried-up blood lay where the pilot’s seat would have been. The holes in the floor suggested that the seat had been torn away.

  The area was large enough for two or three human beings, if, indeed, they were human at all.