Star Cat The Complete Series

by Andrew Mackay

  Tripp folded his arms and gave as good as he got, “Did you sue him?”

  “Sue who?”

  “The moron who installed your charm chip?”

  Neg frowned and twisted away from Tripp in defiance, “That’s not funny—”

  “—Hey, Neg. Check this out,” Poz bounded down the corridor and twisted his head one-hundred-and-eighty degrees on his neck, “This spacecraft is nasty.”

  “What do you mean nasty—”

  “—Tripp Healy,” Poz interrupted, “We need to check out the control deck. Our Captain wants a full sit-rep of Opera Beta.”

  “Uh, sure?”

  Tripp frowned at Poz and Neg’s faux charm and insistence on making themselves at home, “I can fill you in, if you like?”

  “No point,” Poz rolled forward and extended his sensors, “Oxade? Do you read me?”

  “Yes, Poz. Please advise.”

  “Atmosphere levels are fit for human consumption. Which is more than can be said for her decor. Oxygen set at twenty-one percent. Gas readings remain steady.”

  “Good. That suits us just fine,” Oxade’s voice chirped into Poz and Neg’s head.

  Tripp grew weary of the behavior of his guests. Worse, he had no idea who Poz was talking to.

  “Who are you speaking with—”

  “—But I’m also picking up a strange, unknown element,” Poz’s eyebulbs glowed as he scanned the walls, “Possibly a carcinogen of some description. It’s off the charts.”

  Tripp held out his hand, “I can explain what that is. You see, we’ve just returned from a place called Pink—”

  “—Tripp Healy,” Poz rolled to a stop and retracted his sensors, “How have you and the crew been able to sustain yourselves with such a high toxicity level? I’m surprised your lungs haven’t burst.”

  “Well, technically, we haven’t. It’s complicated. I don’t know if you were briefed before you left. Every crew member Beta, bar one, is a Series Three Androgyne.”

  “Bar one?” Neg asked.

  “Jelly Anderson.”

  “Oh, yeah. That stupid little ball of fluff. I forgot.”

  “Yes, everyone else is a Series Three unit. I’m one, too.”

  “You’re one-two?” Poz spat with confusion, “A previous series I don’t know about?”

  “No, I didn’t mean—”

  “—Oh, I get it. He means he’s a series three unit, as well,” Neg turned to Manuel, who flapped above her head like a drug-addled bird, “Who the hell is this?”

  Manuel shuffled forward feeling his temper draw to a close, “Hello. I’m Manuel. The autopilot.”

  “Huh,” she snorted with a metallic whiff, “An old model, right?”

  “We’ve been away for five years. I figured USARIC might have made a few updates in the meantime.”

  “Hah. Well, you’ll get to meet Manny soon enough.”

  “Manny?” Manuel asked and tried to suppress his displeasure at the revelation of his inferiority.

  “Manuel-2,” Neg squealed. “She doesn’t take any crap from anyone. Not least previous models, like you.”

  Manuel folded his pages, indicating his hurt feelings, “I’m sorry. Have I done something to upset you, Neg?”

  “You? Upset me?” Neg blew a recording of a raspberry at him, “You’re not capable of arousing any emotion in me, my friend.”

  “Oh,” Manuel slumped in the air and huffed.

  Neg darted along the walkway and caught up with Poz, “They’re seriously out of date.”

  “Yes, and out-of-touch, too. It doesn’t make sense. Opera Beta is spectacularly unfit for human habitation. There’s a virus of some description present. Nothing I’ve ever encountered, anyway.”

  Tripp paced along the walkway and turned to Manuel in confidence, “Have you ever met anyone so rude?”

  “Which one are you referring to?”

  “Either of them,” Tripp huffed. “Acting like they own the place.”

  “Hey, Tripp Healy,” Poz reached the staircase and scanned the first step, “Stairs? Really?”

  “Ah, yes. Problem?”

  Poz butted his circular stomach against the first step, “Look at the state of this. For God’s sake.”

  “Oh, great,” Tripp huffed and shook his head, “The two of you have mastered nuance and sarcasm, but not stairs?”

  “Stairs are for idiots.”

  Tripp ignored the comment, “No problem. We’ll just take the elevator.”

  “Thank God for that,” Poz whistled with relief, “I’m surprised you guys know about the invention of fire, considering the antiquated nature of this useless spacecraft.”

  Tripp snorted with sarcasm and went to touch Poz,“I see Manning/Synapse haven’t quite mastered applying manners to their new products.”

  He felt an unusual stinging sensation in his palm a mere inch away from his surface.

  “Don’t touch me or I’ll kill you,” Poz beeped with unease.

  “I’m sorry? Are you threatening me?”

  “I’m not threatening you. It’s a fact,” Poz said. “If your hand connects with me, you’ll be killed. I am a death droid.”

  Neg swiveled around and hopped on the spot, “We seriously advise you not to touch us. Your skin gets absorbed and... well, let’s just say it gets very messy. We don’t care. It doesn’t affect us. We just melt your carcass and collect the data in your memory. Or your brain, if you’re a human. Which you’re not. Are you?”

  “No, I’m not,” Tripp held his hands together, thankful that he hadn’t quite made physical contact with Poz, “And thanks for the heads up,”

  “You’re welcome, big boy,” Neg tilted her head and flashed her blue eyebulbs, “Although…?”

  Tripp stared at her, waiting for the rest of her sentence, “What?”

  “Maybe when we return home, I’ll switch my absorption processor off and we can make sweet, sweet love—”

  “—Neg,” Poz slammed his body against the bottom step in a fit of rage, “What did we agree? You don’t flirt with the normal people.”

  “Hey, don’t appendage-block me!”

  “Less of it, you dirty metal testicle,” Poz spat and swiveled around and tilted his ‘head’ up at Tripp, “I’m sorry about that, Tripp Healy. Neg took a bit of a knock to her processor when we were put together,” he finished with a sarcastic whisper, “Forgot to fit her with a decency chip, if I’m being honest.”

  “I heard that,” Neg spun around and harrumphed.

  Tripp cleared his throat and pointed to the elevator, “So, the elevator is over here, guys.”

  The Control Deck

  Space Opera Charlie

  Oxade paced back and forth around the three-dimensional holograph live feed. He slipped himself between Poz and Neg and pointed at the sharp end of the ship.

  “Show me Beta’s control deck,” he said. “I want a live display.”

  “Understood,” Poz said.

  “And Poz?” Oxade watched a fully kitted-out Alex and Nutrene enter the room and gave them the thumbs up.

  “Yes?”

  “Confirm the coordinates with their autopilot. Absorb them into your data field, please. I want every black box equivalent of their time away from Earth. Search every nook and cranny. Leave no stone unturned.”

  “Do you know how long that will take?”

  “No,” he said, suddenly concerned, “How long?”

  “About fifteen minutes.”

  Oxade breathed a sigh of relief, “Well, that’s good. Gives us enough time to take care of business. Now shut up and get working.”

  He stepped out of the holograph and snapped his fingers, “Hughes.”

  “Yes, Captain?”

  “You and Nutrene will board Opera Beta.”

  “Understood.”

  “Poz and Neg are reporting high toxicity levels. You’ll have to strap your space skins on and keep a consistent check on your oxygen.”

  Nutrene watched Tripp and Manuel walk behind
Poz and Neg at Beta’s communications panel.

  “Look at the state of Opera Beta,” she pointed at the windshield, “It’s cracked to all hell. Look.”

  “The windshield will have sealed itself if it sustained any damage. A failsafe designed to buy the crew some time in the event of a disaster.”

  “Captain?” Neg’s voice flew around the room, “Are you seeing what we’re seeing? Look at this.”

  “Come in, Neg,” Oxade stepped back into the holograph, “Can you focus on the points of interest, please?”

  “Yes.”

  Purple light formed around the damaged flight panel.

  “The main control unit is devastated,” Neg said. “In addition, the communications panel is barely operational. Beta herself is barely operational.”

  “Neg, make sure Poz absorbs every piece of data available.”

  “I will.”

  Oxade turned to Nutrene and Alex, “Okay, that’s decided, then. We’re using Charlie to get back home. I don’t know what happened to Beta, but she’s battered beyond salvation. I wouldn’t trust her any more than I’d trust you alone with Hughes.”

  Alex tried not to giggle at Oxade’s prescience.

  “Did you have to say that?” Nutrene blurted. “That wasn’t nice.”

  “You want nice?” he stormed up to her, face-to-face and held his palm open, “Maybe a physical reminder of who’s in charge, here?”

  “Are you going to hit me?” Nutrene stared him down, “Then be a man and hit me.”

  Oxade slapped her across the face. Her chin twisted over her right shoulder as a blotch of red heat formed over her cheek.

  “Speak back to me again, Byford. I will leave you on Beta with Poz and Neg so they can detonate with you. Spread your organs around the solar system like some kind of worthless, spinster milkshake. Is that quite clear?”

  She looked him in the eyes more determined than ever for blood, “Yes. Captain.”

  Alex gulped and hoped Oxade wouldn’t deal the same talking-to as he did to Nutrene.

  His luck had run out.

  “What the hell are you looking at, Hughes?”

  “Nothing, Captain.”

  “Hey, you. Hughes,” Oxade stood in front of the lad and pushed his chin up with his knuckle, “Prove to me you’re on-point and on our side.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’re gonna board Beta, right?”

  “Yes,” Alex said with anger.

  “And you’re going to kill those bastards, right?”

  “Yes, sir,” Alex lied to his face with great vigor, “I’m gonna kill ‘em. I’m gonna kill ‘em all.”

  Oxade grinned and thumped him on the shoulder, “That’s my boy.”

  Chapter 13

  Medix

  Space Opera Beta - Level Three

  Jelly sat on the edge of the bed nearest the door. Her original cat-sized trolley was much too small for her by now.

  Wool ran the tip of her lit thumb along the wall and recorded Jelly’s latest measurement.

  “Before we left Pink Symphony you were just over five feet tall,” Wool pressed her palm onto her thumbnail and stood to her feet in order to reach the new recorded height above her head. “Now, you’re seven feet and two inches.”

  “What’s happening to me, mommy?” Jelly whined in her deep and husky adult voice, “Why am I getting bigger?”

  Wool shot the cat-woman a wistful look, “I don’t know, honey.”

  “Hey, Jelly. Are you decent?”

  She was anything but decent if she’d have been one hundred percent human woman. Her fur provided the modesty she needed, given the circumstances.

  “Yeah.”

  Jaycee walked into Medix carrying a spare exo-suit and laid them on the nearest available bed, “Got you some fresh clothes. It’s okay. I’m not looking.”

  “You can look,” Jelly hopped to her feet and swished her tail around.

  Jaycee took her advice and took in her enormity, “Jesus Christ on a pogo stick,” he stammered and glanced at Wool, “Has she gotten bigger in the past few minutes, or what?”

  “She won’t stop growing,” Wool watched Jelly throw the Kevlar exo-suit over her shoulders. She pulled the cord from the lapel, enabling it to soak around her chest, arms and abdomen.

  “I like this,” Jelly said with her back facing the other two.

  “Does it fit okay?”

  “Yeah.”

  She lifted her right leg and placed her foot on the bed, forming a statuesque right angle which inadvertently revealed her impressive thighs.

  Wool held Jaycee back and took a step forward, “Honey? Are you okay?”

  “I said I’m fine.”

  The subtle croaking in her voice indicated otherwise. She tried her best to keep her cries to herself.

  Wool turned around and caught a pink tear welling in her eye with her knuckle. She afforded Jelly some privacy and grabbed the exo-suit leggings, “I’ll cut a hole open for your tail.”

  “No, give me it. You don’t know where the hole will be, yet,” Jelly cleared her throat and grabbed the waistline with her large paws, “Careful, don’t touch my claws.”

  “Okay, okay,” Wool joined Jaycee and watched Jelly yank the fabric out into a thin, Kevlar belt. She wrapped it around her hips, accentuating the muscles in her thigh.

  Jaycee’s hands shook at Jelly’s magnificence. He felt a sensation he was rarely used to. Standing before him was a woman who was his equal - or as damn near as could possibly be.

  A beautiful, striking creature.

  His eyes followed the fabric unravel down, away from her waist and down her thighs to her knees.

  Wool cast a wry eye at Jaycee’s face. She knew what he was feeling, and didn’t approve.

  “Jaycee—”

  He half-heard her as he ogled Jelly’s legs.

  “Jaycee. You’re not serious, are you?”

  “Wha—?”

  The fabric crept around her shin and soaked into her fur. She looked up in some discomfort and looked at Jaycee.

  His eyes traveled from her waist, past her subtle baby bump, past her well-endowed chest - accentuated all the more by the tight top - and, finally, to her neck and face.

  Both sets of eyes met quite by accident.

  “What are you looking at?” Jelly stomped right foot to the ground and brushed her tail, “Were you checking me out?”

  “No, no, I—”

  “—You were checking me out, weren’t you?” Jelly hissed at him.

  Wool buried her head in her hand, “Oh, God, don’t do that. You’ll make it worse.”

  Jaycee’s tongue hung out of his mouth. He didn’t realize it at first, but short of having a neon love heart strapped to his head, anyone could tell he was smitten.

  “I love it when you hiss at me,” he said.

  BOP.

  Jelly booted the bed off its wheels. She spread her claws out and poised to attack the man, “What the hell did you just say?”

  “Nothing. I didn’t mean—”

  “—Do you want me to kill you?”

  Jaycee looked at his feet and apologized, “No, I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “God help me,” she scowled in pain and clutched her stomach. The pink shimmer of light from her abdomen pounded through the suit, “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

  She staggered forward and slammed her paw against the wall. A spider web of cracks shot across the wall and coughed out a plume of dust.

  “Guuuh,” she cowed and doubled-over, trying not to be sick.

  Wool’s hands shook. The reality of Jelly’s predicament had major repercussions for the safety of the ship and its crew.

  “Honey, you’re getting worse.”

  Jelly lifted her head and widened her ashen eyes.

  “I’m not g-getting worse,” she growled, “I’m g-getting better.”

  She held herself against the wall and exhaled, blowing the dust from the cracks created by her claws, “Miew,” s
he whined, “My tail. Cut me open.”

  Wool raced forward and placed her hands on Jelly’s hips, “Where? Tell me.”

  “Right… h-here…” she tapped her infinity claw at the base of her spine, “Where it usually is.”

  Jaycee’s forearm buzzed to life and tore his attention away from the bizarre spectacle. He rolled up his sleeve and thumbed the ink toward his wrist, “This is Jaycee?”

  “Jaycee,” Tripp’s voice came from the pinpricks in his wrist, “This is Tripp.”

  “I read you, Tripp. Hang on, why are you whispering?”

  “We’ve docked with Charlie. They’re performing an audit and getting ready to take us home—”

  “—Meeoowwww,” Jelly whined.

  “Hold still,” Wool ran her hot thumbnail ten inches down the back of Jelly’s Kevlar leggings, “Nearly there.”

  “What’s that noise?”

  Jaycee lifted his wrist to his mouth, “You’re never gonna believe this.”

  “What?”

  “Anderson. She’s getting bigger. We’re trying to fit her with my back-up exo-gear.”

  Tripp ignored the comment, “Never mind that now. I need you to come and make yourself known to Charlie. They’ve sent these bizarre little droids on board but the actual crew haven’t docked yet. Getting kinda spooked, here, if I’m honest.”

  “On it,” Jaycee palmed the panel on the wall and opened the door, “Gotta love you and leave you, now. We’ve docked with Charlie and Tripp needs me on the deck.”

  “What?”

  Jelly’s tail whipped out of the hole and accidentally slapped Wool across the face.

  “Oww,” Wool cupped her cheek in her hands, “Jelly!”

  “Sorry, mommy.”

  Jaycee sniggered and shook his head, “I’ll leave you two to it. Leave your Individimedia on, Wool. We might need you.”

  “Ugh,” she spat a tuft of fur from her mouth, “Fine. Just get us home, will you?”

  Wool patted Jelly’s paw away from her shoulder, “Please. Be careful with your tail. You’re not a little pet anymore.”

  “I said I was sorry,” Jelly began to purr and made a cute face of contrition at her ‘mother’, “Sorry.”

  Wool squinted at her face and lifted her hand away. Her eyes suggested she was lying.