Star Cat: Killer Instinct

by Andrew Mackay

  “Nitwit.”

  ***

  BLAST-CRUNCH.

  The tank’s conveyor belt crushed over the last few rocks on course for the opening door

  Jelly kept her infinity claws wrapped around the turret cage in an attempt to steady her balance.

  “I don’t feel too good, Tripp,” she whined and licked her mouth.

  Tripp kept his left hand on the turret gears, blasting at the wolves as they moved forward. He pointed at the side of Space Opera Charlie just as the door to Level Three began to open.

  WHIIIIIIRRRRR.

  “It’s opening,” he looked through the opened roof by his feet, “Jaycee, quick.”

  “I’m going as fast as I can, Captain.”

  The tank toppled onto its left side as it ran over a large rock, “Hold onto something,” Jaycee yelled at the pair above him.

  Jelly’s feet lifted away from the roof as the tank shifted onto one of its conveyors. It almost fell on its side.

  “Whoa,” her behind followed her legs as they swung against the cage ceiling, “Help.”

  BLAM-BLAM-BLAM!

  Tripp fired off a round of shots at the approaching wolves. Only two of the bullets were successful in killing any of the ravenous pack.

  Tripp kicked his severed right hand away from the right side of the turret and caught it in his left, “I’m nearly out of ammo,”

  “Conserve as much as you can, man. Make every bullet count,” Jaycee yelled back as he kept the gears yanked back with all his might, “Ten more seconds and we’re there.”

  “Oh, no,” Jelly pulled herself to the edge of the cage and let out a shriek, “Tripp?”

  “What is it now, Jelly?”

  “They’re coming ‘round the side,” she screamed.

  GGRRRRRRRRR-RAAAAAR.

  A wolf appeared out of nowhere and clung to the side of the cage.

  Tripp and Jelly jumped in fright.

  One of the razor sharp talons on its paws sliced through the metal, almost taking a clump of fur from Jelly’s neck.

  GGRRRRRR.

  “Oh God, oh God,” Jelly clutched her chest and tumbled over Tripp’s lap, “Get it away from me.”

  “Arrggggghhh,” Tripp yanked the side lever on the turret and switched to fully automatic mode. He swung the cage around forty-five degrees and tried to shoot the wolf off the bars.

  THRAAA-TAT-TAAAAT.

  The cage spun around and around, blasting ammunition into the sky.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Jaycee said before making the mistake of looking up through the hatch and clocking the wolf on the cage, “Oh, Jesus Chr—”

  SNAASSSH-SCHLAAAAMMM.

  The wolf chewed through the bars and rammed its head through the hole. The sharp edges tore along its face and neck, busting the underlying skin apart.

  “Uh, uh,” Jelly lifted her paws and extended her infinity claws, ready to attack, “Come here you ugly piece of shi—”

  ROOWWAAAAARR!

  The jagged edges of the busted cage daggered into the wolf’s neck and face. The tank’s violent shifting through the rocks only made matters worse.

  Tripp lifted his severed hand and threw it at the wolf. It bopped him on the head and bounced off the side of the tank.

  Jelly lowered her arms, taking pity on the trapped wolf. The life drained from its pyramid-shaped eyes as its top half slumped onto the metal, impaled on five broken bits of metal.

  “Look at it,” Jelly whispered as she stared into its pained eyes, “It’s in pain.”

  Tripp turned back, “No time to start feeling sorry for these bastards. They’re trying to kill us.”

  “I know,” she snapped, and ran one of her claws under the dying wolf’s jaw.

  “For God’s sake, don’t touch it—”

  “—But look at it,” Jelly said. “It’s so—”

  ROOWWAAARRR.

  The wolf snapped its teeth and gnashed its fangs at her.

  “Whoa,” Jelly removed her paw and allowed her killer instinct to kick in.

  The beast clutched the cage and attempted to lift its impaled head off the bars, with little success. It whined in pain, knowing it couldn’t move.

  “Damn it,” Jelly shook any empathy she had away and snarled at the crying wolf, “Come here.”

  She stepped forward and slung the crook of her elbow on her right arm under its chin.

  The wolf whined as it felt Jelly’s left forearm fly across its eyebrow and press against its neck.

  ROOWAAARRR.

  Ropes of bloodied saliva whipped into the air and up Jelly’s exo-suit as she tightened her forearms around its head and neck.

  “Sweet dreams.”

  SWISH - KER-KLUTCH.

  One swift action was all it took to break its neck. The beast’s top half dropped into her arms.

  “Ngggg,” she grabbed the busted cage and booted its remains off the top of the tank.

  “Okay, we’re here,” Jaycee announced at the top of his lungs, “Get ready.”

  The tank stormed across the last of the rocks and through the opened Motary doors.

  Alex ran down the level Three Walkway and palmed the lever on the side of his D-Rez, “Jaycee? Did you embark?”

  “Yeah, rolling in as we speak.”

  Alex hit the panel on the wall and opened the door to the Motary, “Manny?”

  “Yes, Alex?”

  “They’re in. Close the doors. Do it, now.”

  “Understood.”

  VRROOOOOOOOOOOM.

  The back-end of the tank shunted over the lip of the main external door to the Motary. Alex bolted inside and screeched to a halt on his feet.

  “Jesus,” Alex waved his hands, “Slow down, you’ll crush all the equipment.”

  He ran to the right-hand wall and tried to wave the tank to a stop, “Jaycee?”

  “Yeah, what is it?” his voice came through Alex’s headgear, “Can’t you see we’re busy?”

  “Stop, slow down. You’ll hit the equipment—”

  VROOOM-CRASHHHH.

  The conveyor on the truck pushed into the stationary pod and shattered its glass frontage.

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Alex ran up to the side of the tank and thumped it with his fist, “Slow down. Be careful.”

  The tank rolled over the pod and busted it clean apart with its weight.

  “Uh, Alex?” Jelly shouted from the turret a few feet above. She pointed at the open door and the approaching wolves, “Uh, they’re coming?”

  BANG-BANG-BANG.

  Alex gasped and rammed the side of the tank, “Jaycee, Tripp. Get out of there, now.”

  “I’m coming, I’m coming,” Jaycee pulled himself through the tank’s roof hatch and joined Tripp and Jelly in the turret cage.

  HOWWWLLL-ROOAAARR.

  “Oh, Jesus,” Jaycee reached into his belt and pulled out his Rez-9, “Guys, get down. Now.”

  He aimed down the sight and blasted three wolves in the head. Their carcasses blasted into the air and slammed down on the rest of the pack.

  “Go. Now.”

  Alex raced to the front of the tank and palmed the safety catch on his D-REZ, “Manny? Why aren’t the doors closing?”

  “The link-up is delayed.”

  “Oh, amaziant,” Alex quipped with sarcasm and lifted his D-REZ at the approaching horde of wolves, “Close the damn doors.”

  “I’ve already sent the command,” Manny insisted through their headgears.

  “You’re useless.”

  Alex yanked on the trigger.

  THRTAA-TATA-TAAAAT!

  A torrent of bullets rocketed from left to right, taking out more and more of the wolves.

  SCHPITT-SCHPLATT-CRACK.

  The front row of wolves exploded in a gory miasma of flesh, teeth, and blood. Alex released the empty clip to the ground, reached into his belt, and slotted in a fresh grip.

  “Guys, get back,” Alex ordered as he took aim at the approaching beasts once again.

&
nbsp; Jaycee jumped from the top of the tank.

  WHUMP.

  He landed feet-first and joined Alex with a Rez-9 in each hand, “Actually, Jelly, Tripp. Stay up there in the cage. It’s the safest place.”

  GRRRRIIINNNDD.

  The door to the Motary began to close - slowly. The sound of metal on hardened ceramic was ear-piercingly loud.

  The next row of wolves stormed forward, kicking dirt and mud into the air as their claws unhooked from the ground.

  Jaycee screamed at the top of his voice, “Come and get some, you ugly bastards—”

  BLAM-BLAM-BLAM.

  Jaycee’s bullets dispatched five wolves, pushing their bodies back over the carcasses of their previously-slain cohorts.

  “Manny?” Alex yelled, “Please tell me the door is operational.”

  “Yes, it’s closing. Did you notice?”

  Alex turned to the wheels at the door frame as they spun around, folding the door down as slowly as it could.

  “Damn it, it’s not quick enough.”

  Alex fired another round of shots.

  Five of them climbed up the building mound of animal corpses launched themselves into the Motary.

  BLAM-BLAM-BLAM.

  Jaycee shot each one out of the air, rendering the ferocious hounds of hell into bursting blood-filled balloons.

  “Get out of here, now,” he stepped back with Alex as they tried to fend off the marauding beasts of hell.

  The door slid towards the ground, preventing most of the beasts from getting inside.

  SNARL-GRRRRRR.

  Three of them lowered their fronts to the ground and splayed their limbs out flat, trying to push through.

  Jelly grabbed Tripp’s one remaining hand and pulled him away from the tank, “Get to the back wall.”

  GRRRIIINNNNND.

  One of the wolves slipped through the closing gap and raced up to Jaycee.

  “Who’s a good boy, huh?” he aimed down his sight and squeezed the trigger.

  CLICK-CLICK-CLICK.

  Jaycee’s gun was empty, “Oh, shi—”

  ROOAAARRR.

  The wolf pounced into the air.

  Alex swung his body around and yanked on the trigger, “Jaycee. Duck.”

  Instead of ducking, Jaycee covered his face with his left arm, “Nooo.”

  THRAAAA-AA-AAATTT.

  Alex unleashed fifty bullets from his D-REZ, tracing the wolf’s trajectory. The Motary side wall shattered to pieces as the bullets chased the beasts’ hind legs.

  CLIP-SCHPLATT.

  The next bullet caught the wolf’s foot, chewing through its flesh and splitting the bone. The paw burst away from its arm and rocketed towards Alex’s face.

  “Noooo.”

  SCHWIPP.

  The claws on the severed, flying paw scratched along Alex’s mask, tearing most of it away from his face. He screamed and twisted his body around, all the while spraying bullets at the rest of the wolf.

  The final bullet punctured its body, twisting it around in the air and out of Jaycee’s path.

  Jaycee finally crouched, hoping he wouldn’t be murdered in the process.

  SCHLUMP.

  The freshly-executed wolf’s body slammed against the wall and slid down the surface toward the ground.

  GRRRR.

  The rest of the wolves shuffled forward under the closing door, stuck between one another, still hungry for blood.

  Jaycee lifted his arms away to see Alex remove the empty clip from his D-REZ.

  He took a brief moment to swallow and catch his breath, “Thanks, man.”

  “Anytime.”

  Alex went for a fresh magazine, but was out of ammunition, “Damn. I’m out.”

  “Your mask.”

  “I know, I know,” Alex chucked his spent firearm to the floor and felt, for the first time, a blast of pure air against his face. He didn’t have time to enjoy the freeing sensation, however.

  HOWL. BARK-BARK.

  Alex and Jaycee turned to the door as it closed shut - right onto the heads of several wolves who became jammed together in the tussle to enter the ship.

  The pair turned away in disgust as the door crushed the wolves’ heads into the ground.

  GRIND. SCHWUNT-SCHPLATT.

  Alex winced and tried not to watch, “Oh, man. That’s just nasty.”

  Angry howls and murderous banging occurred from the other side of the hatch. The wolves wanted in, and weren’t going to relent any time soon.

  Jaycee stood up straight and dropped both Rez-9s to the ground, “I’m out, too.”

  Alex nodded at the dead wolf by the wall, “What are we gonna do with him?”

  “Leave it. It’s dead,” Jaycee yelled over the commotion coming from outside. He turned around and ran over to Jelly and Tripp, “Right, we need answers.”

  “Too right,” Tripp looked at Alex to find him staring at the dead wolf’s eyes, “Hughes?”

  No response.

  Alex froze on the spot. He tried to process what had just happened, and entered a state of near-catatonia.

  “Hughes?” Tripp repeated.

  Alex snapped out of his daydream and turned to Tripp with a confused and frightened look on his face.

  “Uh. Yeah?”

  “Let’s go. Back to control.”

  “Oh. Okay,” Alex cleared his throat.

  Tripp noticed that the young lad’s arms were shaking. Jelly and Jaycee saw it, too, but didn’t have time to empathize - at all.

  “Pfft. Newbie,” Jelly huffed. “Hey, Alex.”

  He scooped up the remains of gelatin with his fingers and flung them to the floor, “Yes?”

  “Stay away from me. I’m toxic.”

  Alex took a deep breath, acclimatizing himself to his facial freedom, “I know, you said already. We have no masks left.”

  “I’m serious, Hughes,” she pointed around the Motary in a state of anger, “You think with all these guns you got, you can kill anything you don’t like?”

  Alex blinked, awaiting a response. He’d never been told off by a feline before.

  “What if what you don’t like is inside you?” Jelly palmed the panel on the wall and opened the door. “How are you gonna shoot it, then?”

  She stormed out of the Motary in a huff, leaving Tripp and Jaycee to fill in the blanks.

  “She has a point, Hughes,” Tripp moved off with Jaycee.

  Alex spotted Tripp’s busted wrist, “What happened to you?”

  Tripp nodded over at the dead wolf carcasses and, “They did.”

  Alex hung his head and stared down at his feet.

  He felt his heart calm down despite the wild uproar outside the ship.

  A strange moment in his young life, for sure. Surrounded by death and a peculiar situation no one would ever believe if he’d told them.

  The wolf carcass began to freak him out. Quite incidentally, the head and eyes stared straight at Alex.

  It was time to leave the Motary and get some answers. Alex exhaled, rolled his shoulders and walked through the door…

  ***

  A smoking battleground lay a quarter of a mile away from Opera Charlie. It may as well have been a canine cemetery.

  Scores of dead wolves scattered amongst mud and sludge. A fine mist formed a few feet over the ground from the battle that had taken place.

  The wolves that were lucky enough not to have been killed traipsed around, sniffing at their dead brothers and sisters.

  One of them looked up in the darkness. A huge shadow covered the view of Saturn, blocking the reflective light from its face.

  It whined with mercy and pawed at its dead sibling.

  SCHTOMP-SCHTOMP-SCHTOMP.

  The gargantuan beast loomed above the wolf and looked left, then right. Eventually, it stood into the light.

  Mastazita, in all his glory.

  Twelve feet tall.

  A twisted and metallic nightmare-fuel of a beast.

  A tiny cracking of bones could be heard with
each minuscule movement.

  His face was that of a wolf - or, at least it could have been.

  An extended jaw with six upturned bullet-shaped metal fangs, and a curious thin, vein-strewn webbing holding the bottom half of his face to his cheeks.

  A much smaller wolf ducked its head and let out a pathetic whelp in reverence for Mastazita.

  The giant moved its right foot forward and crouched to its knees. Sections of the grounded spaceship Jelly had found were wrenched and folded around Mastazita’s arms and legs.

  A very convincing attempt at a suit of armor.

  Cyrillic writing adorned its ‘shoulder armor’, fashioned from the wing of the ship.

  Mastazita ran his colossal paw over the wolf’s head, trying to calm him down.

  It worked.

  The wolf seemed to purr as he made a fuss of the padding in Mastazita’s ‘palm’, careful not to hurt itself on his master’s claws made from the gears of the spaceship.

  Mastazita moved his head to the carcass on the floor.

  He slid his paw underneath its shoulders and lifted it a few inches off the ground.

  Its neck had been snapped.

  Sniff-sniff… snore.

  Mastazita pulled the carcass to his face and sniffed around. A deathly liquid-gurgling noise billowed out through its face as it took in the dead wolf’s scent.

  Something strange, and unfamiliar.

  A scent Mastazita despised in that very instant.

  A scent indicating that a new oppressor - or prey, at least - had made itself known on their turf.

  Mastazita’s heart beat faster and faster. The blood rushing through his arteries and veins may well have been gunpowder.

  A tumultuous feeling of anger and hate rumbled through his body. It had yet to display fully, but the scores of scared wolves knew that it was only a matter of time before their master would erupt.

  Mastazita stood up straight with the broken-necked wolf in his arms and held it out at arm’s length.

  ROOOAAAAARRRR!

  Slowly, he lifted the slain lump of furry flesh toward Saturn, above his head.

  An offering to the Gods that should have protected them.

  “Muhhh,” he roared. “Shta—zee—tuuuh.”

  The wolves stood on their hind legs and howled at their fallen friend resting in Mastazita’s paws.

  Finally, he tilted his head up to the giant, ringed Goddess in the sky and expunged his anger. A giant, planet-shattering roar of hell, accompanied by the howls of a more than a hundred wolves.