Star Cat The Complete Series

by Andrew Mackay

“God, no,” Sierra hopped into the van and knocked one of the two unconscious security guards with her foot, “They’re still out. Rana, start the engine.”

  “You got it,” Rana yelled and slammed on the gas.

  VRA-VRA-VROOOOOM.

  The tires whizzed around, grating against the slick floor.

  SQUAH-SQUAH-SQUEEEEEE—

  The van bolted a few feet and tore the rest of the wall down. Segments of brickwork and wires exploded as they crashed to the ground.

  Daylight burst through the wreckage surrounding the van.

  VRRRR. VRRRRR.

  “We’re stuck,” Rana yanked the handbrake and grabbed the back of her seat. She saw the opened doors rammed tight against the edges of the workstations, “Damn it, get in and close the doors.”

  Grace raced over to the back of the van and grabbed Sierra’s hand.

  “Get in.”

  “I’m trying,” Grace climbed aboard and turned around to see Finbow aiming his gun at the two USARIC mercs on their knees by the door.

  “Finbow, come on. Leave them,” Grace said.

  He moved forward and jammed the nozzle of his gun into the first mercenary’s face, “How many?”

  “How many what?”

  “How many are coming?”

  “What?” Grace yelled from the van doors as Sierra bolted the two feline cages shut behind her, “Who cares? Let’s go.”

  “More than you can handle, scumbag,” the first mercenary said. “You think you can break in and just take our product?”

  “Product?”

  “You and your friends are dead.”

  A rumbling of a thousand footsteps whooshed from up the end of the corridor.

  Finbow swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to question the men further, “At least we’re not dead inside.”

  WHUMP.

  Finbow socked the mercenary in the jaw with the butt of his gun and held the barrel at his colleague as he ran, backwards, towards the van, “You. Stay there. You stay.”

  “You won’t make it out of here alive.”

  “Shut the hell up and stay.”

  Finbow turned around and climbed into the back of the van as Rana stepped on the gas.

  “Hold on.”

  WHIRRRR-WHIRRRR.

  The wheels of the van skidded, causing an almighty screeching sound.

  It jolted forward, tearing the workstation console away from the opposing walls.

  KERRRRAA-CRASSSSH.

  The van shunted forward, restricted by the broken bits of wall clawing it back. Grace, Sierra, and Finbow stumbled inside the van, off balance. The latter stepped forward and slipped over the first of the two passed-out security guards.

  “Whoa,” Finbow kicked himself back just in time. The first guard rolled over on his chest and dropped to the road below.

  The van tore the rest of the compound’s wall away. Rana turned the wheel to the left, spinning the wheels across the road.

  The van skidded onto its side, throwing all the human occupants against the cages.

  “Close the doors,” Rana yelled as she hit the gas once again.

  The van sped across the air strip, carrying scores of howling and meowing cats in the back.

  Grace toed the second passed-out security guard, “We need to get rid of this second guy. We can’t take him with us.”

  “Then do it, don’t revel in it,” Sierra said.

  Finbow bent over and held the bar across the top of the back doors. His face fell when he saw what was following them.

  “Oh shi—”

  A USARIC mega-vehicle roared onto the airstrip and gave chase. It traveled at speeds that threatened to catch up with - and crush - the van in front.

  Finbow looked up the length of the van and clapped eyes on the road, “They’re onto us—”

  BLAM-BLAM-BLAM.

  The canons on either side of the mega-vehicle fired three shots.

  The first missed the van entirely.

  The second took a chunk off the corner of the roof.

  The third hit Finbow in the shoulder. He toppled backwards, released his gun and accidentally booted the second security guard’s body across the floor.

  Finbow’s gun bounced out of the van and hit the air strip.

  A few seconds later, the mega-vehicle ran over it, blasting it to smithereens.

  “Jeeeeez.”

  Rana slammed on the gas, “I said hold onto something.”

  The unconscious guard’s body tumbled forward and out of the back of the van.

  SCHWUMP.

  His body hit the airstrip a few feet in front of the mega-vehicle’s trajectory.

  WHIIIRRR-STREEEEK.

  The mega-vehicle’s chassis lifted five feet into the air, exposing its two-ton chained conveyor.

  GROWL-CRUNCH.

  It rolled over the security guard’s body and crushed it into the air strip ground.

  “Gaaaaah,” Finbow sat up and held his bleeding wound.

  “You’re not dead, yet,” Grace offered him her hand. He took it and stood to his feet. A fountain of blood gushed from his shoulder and through the fingers on his good hand.

  An ungodly roaring noise blew across the airstrip, several hundred feet up in the sky.

  “I lost my gun,” Finbow winced and kept his back pressed against the side of the van.

  “That’s not all you’ve lost—”

  “—Oh, no, no,” Rana slammed on the brakes and peered up through the windshield. “Ohhhh, Christ.”

  “What is it?” Sierra bellowed from the cages.

  “Remember when I said to hold onto something?”

  “Yeah, what?”

  “I meant it. Hang on.”

  Rana spun the steering wheel to the right and off the airstrip, just as—

  WHOOOOOOOOOSH.

  A fighter jet opened its landing gears and descended.

  NEEAAWWWWWW.

  The van swerved out of its path just in time. The left wing of the jet clipped the top of the van, sending it spinning like a boomerang across the grounds of the training center.

  SCREEEECH.

  The mega-vehicle jolted to a stop and saw the fighter jet darting towards it.

  BLAAAARRREEE.

  The jet’s wheels hit the ground. The mega-vehicle tried to veer off the air strip, but it was too late.

  They collided head on. An almighty fireball from God blasted in all directions, taking out the facade of the adjacent buildings.

  WVHOOM-SMASH-SMASH-SMASH.

  The windows blew out of the buildings. Anyone unlucky enough to be outside them incinerated in an instant - reduced to a cloud of black and red mist.

  The van toppled on two of its wheels and crashed back down on all fours.

  SCHLAAAAAM.

  The impact of the van landing on all four wheels flung Finbow out of the back of the van. He reached out and caught the handle of the swinging door as Rana floored the gas.

  VROOOOOOM.

  “Jesus Christ, Rana,” Sierra screamed from the back, “Hit the brakes, Finbow’s hanging off the door.”

  “We can’t, we can’t,” Rana flipped her binocles down over her face and flicked the switch on the side, “He’ll just have to, uh, hang around for a bit.”

  “Damn it,” Grace reached out for Finbow as he swung to and fro from the waving van door.

  The entrance gates formed a blue rectangle in Rana’s visor, “I think we’ve caused enough damage for one day.”

  “But?” Sierra hollered over the wailing cats cooped up in both cages.

  “But we need to get through security,” Rana flung the stick shift into sixth gear and eyed the reading on the dashboard - 80 mph.

  “I think we’ll have to go old school on this one, too.”

  The security guard climbed out of his kiosk and waved his hands as the van barreled toward him.

  “Huh?”

  He squinted and saw the fireball from the collision on the airstrip throw up a mountain range of black, thi
ck smog.

  “I knew it, I knew they weren’t deliveries,” his muttering turned to a scream of defiance, “Hey, stop.”

  Rana slammed her palm on the horn, “My friend, if you know what’s good for you, get out of the way.

  BEEEEEEEEP.

  “Stop, stop.”

  The security guard retrieved his gun from his pocket and fired several pot-shots at the front of the van.

  BANG-BANG-BANG.

  Rana lowered her head and steered the van right at him. The windscreen shattered, coughing shards of glass over her head and shoulders and into the back of the van.

  Finbow hung from the back door, but couldn’t hold on much longer. The blood from his arm sprayed across the road below, which intermittently kicked against his heels.

  BWUP-BOP-BUP.

  “Aghhh, my feet,” he said as he attempted to lift his knees to his chest.

  NEEAAAAAWWW.

  The van stormed toward the security guard. Rana lifted her head and elbowed the shattered windshield remains away from the front of the van.

  “Get out of the way, asshole.”

  The guard refused to move as the van shot towards him.

  “Move, move, move,” Rana screamed through the van’s opened windshield.

  The security guard jumped out of the way at the very last moment. The van blasted past him as he spun around and opened fire on the back of it…

  WHOOSH-SMASSSSSH.

  The van plowed through the yellow gate and crashed through the giant metal entrance gates.

  The poles yawned out of the ground and kicked up mounds of cement. The vehicle pushed through and groaned, trying to wrench itself away from the metal grates.

  YAAWWWWWWWN.

  The van bolted away, throwing Grace and Sierra to the back of the van.

  WUUUSSSH-SCHUNT.

  The back doors slammed forward and hit the back of the van, closing them in.

  Rana hit the gas for the final time and tried to catch her breath, “Everyone okay back there?”

  “Ugh, ugh,” Sierra picked herself off the floor and helped Grace to her feet, “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Wait, wait,” Grace gasped. “Where’s Finbow?”

  Both girls looked through the window to see Finbow roll across the road by the security kiosk.

  “Nooooo,” Grace turned around and yelled at Rana. “We can’t just leave him there.”

  “What? You want us to go back and get him and risk all of us getting killed?”

  “But, but—”

  “—No buts, Grace. We can’t go back,” Rana gripped her mouthpiece and focused on the road ahead.

  A sign for Interstate 608 whizzed past the wing mirror.

  “Siyam, this is Rana. Do you read me?”

  A few seconds went by without a response.

  “I repeat. This is Rana. Siyam, do you read me?”

  “Yes, I read you.”

  “We’re headed for I-608, now. We’ve left the compound.”

  “Understood.”

  Grace took her anger out on the van wall. She thumped it twice and finished it off with a scissor kick, “Arrrggggghhh.”

  “Grace. Calm down,” Sierra said. “There’s nothing we could have done.”

  “There’s something I could have done.”

  Grace pulled the bottom of her USARIC jacket open and revealed her grenade.

  “I could have rammed it down their throats is what I could have done—”

  “—No. Enough,” Sierra stared her friend in the face, “There’s nothing we could have done. We outran a freaking fighter jet. We’re lucky to be alive.”

  “Meow,” one of the cats offered from the second cage.

  “We did it for Handax,” Grace said.

  “No. We didn’t,” Sierra pointed at the cages full of cats, never once averting her eyes from Grace’s, “We did it for them.”

  Chapter 13

  Staircase

  Opera Charlie - Level One/Two

  Alex led Tripp, Jaycee, and Jelly to the top of the staircase to the first level.

  Due to the angle of the ship, the steps were at a slight angle, making progress extremely difficult.

  The emergency lights shimmered, creating bizarre silhouettes of the quartet.

  Alex grabbed the railings and pulled himself the final few steps, “Come on, we have to go to the control deck.”

  Jelly staggered forward. She was badly injured. Pink blood escaped from a wound in her side. She didn’t remember how she got it.

  “Ugh, my suit,” she gasped and spluttered, “I d-don’t feel too g-good.”

  Jaycee kept an eye on her as she took the next step up the flight of stairs. Her knee buckled, threatening to throw her against the wall.

  “Hey, hang on to me,” Jaycee dashed over and grabbed her arm. He slung it around his shoulder and carried her forward, “Hold on tight, we’re nearly there.”

  “Be careful with her, Jaycee,” Tripp said as he reached the top of the staircase.

  “Ugh, I think I’m gonna be sick,” Jelly whined.

  “Those things aren’t going to wait around forever, you know,” Alex voice echoed down the stairwell, “Jaycee, are you okay with Jelly?”

  “Yeah, but sh-she’s a big girl,” Jaycee struggled as he carried her forward.

  “We’ll get a head start with Manny and see you at control,” Alex said as he nudged Tripp, “C’mon, Healy. Let’s go.”

  Control Deck

  Opera Charlie - Level One

  Alex and Tripp could hear a distant scratching and meowing coming from the other side of the door on their approach.

  “Wait,” Alex said.

  “What?”

  “Oh, Christ. Don’t tell me they’ve entered the control deck.”

  Scritt-scritt.

  Alex breathed a sigh of relief and released his grip on Tripp’s shoulder, “Oh, thank God.”

  “It’s just Jelly’s kittens, right?” Tripp offered.

  “I swear I’m going out of my mind, here. Something’s not right about this place.”

  “With all those feral animals and that huge thing?” Tripp quipped. “What makes you think that?”

  “I’m not talking about the animals.”

  Alex looked up and around the slanted walkway, taking his time to survey the surroundings, “I know this ship like the back of my hand. It’s been a while since I’ve seen it without the aid of an outer-mask. Something bad is about to go down, I can just feel it.”

  Alex continued forward and raised his gloved hand in front of his face.

  Tripp caught up with him, “You’re not talking about those creatures out there? What makes you think—”

  “—I don’t know, Healy. Okay?” Alex snapped, utterly perturbed, “I just—” he tailed off, unable to finish his sentence.

  Something had gotten to him. It was a challenge keeping it to himself.

  Tripp stared at him for an answer. Or a response. Or anything.

  Alex took a deep breath as he stared at the wall, “The look in that wolf’s eyes, man. I saw it. Deep, deep down. Inside it.”

  “What did you see?”

  Alex blinked and shook his head, bringing himself back to reality. He palmed the panel on the wall and moved through the sliding door, “No time for this lessense. Let’s get in control and get out of here.”

  “Miew, miew,” White and Furie raced over from the flight deck and greeted the two men entering the room.

  “Manny?” Alex asked.

  “Ah, you’re back. How did it go?”

  “I’m asking the questions, Manny. I want an update on the International Moon Station connection, please. Hopefully someone picked up the signal we sent.”

  “Certainly, standby.”

  Alex crouched to his knees and scooped Furie into his arms, “Hey, pet. How you holding up?”

  She’d shed a lot of fur since he’d left and shivered, feeling the cold.

  Tripp held out his right hand at White, “Hey, girl
. You okay?”

  “Hisss.”

  Tripp had forgotten about his severed hand. A small, silver talon folded out from between the connectors.

  “Huh?”

  White trundled over to him with a lack of enthusiasm. She spotted something on his hand and froze on the spot, not especially keen on moving any closer.

  “What’s up, honey?” Tripp asked, confused as to White’s refusal to move forward.

  He extended his hand, only to be greeted by a snarl and vicious hiss from White.

  Tripp grimaced and spluttered.

  The talon punched through the wires in his wrist, followed by a slimy limb. His arm began to shake uncontrollably.

  “Hisssss,” White twitched her nose and ducked back, flapping her bushy tail against the ground.

  Alex hadn’t noticed the confrontation. He cozied up to Furie and let her attack his free hand playfully, “Who’s a good little pussycat, huh?”

  “Alex?” Manny asked.

  “Yes?”

  “We have established communication via IMS with a SPO.”

  “Private network?” Alex set Furie onto the floor and walked into the middle of the control deck. “Show me the signal, please.”

  “Not much to see at the moment.”

  An audio waveform rumbled to life in the middle of the room.

  Jelly and Jaycee walked into the control deck.

  “Hey, guys. What’s up?”

  “Miew.”

  White and Furie ran up to Jelly, demanding a cuddle.

  “Heeey,” she crouched down and scooped both cats into her arms, “Mommy’s here.”

  “Miew, miew.”

  The pair of kittens were overjoyed to be with their mother, at last. Jelly wondered where her third child was.

  “Where’s youngest? Huh? Is she running around on the big ship?”

  Tripp doubled-over in a furious sweat and groaned, “Shuh, shuh,” he clamped his lips shut and stumbled over to the flight deck chair.

  He sat into it and coughed, keeping his severed wrist buried underneath his jacket.

  “Hey, Captain,” Jaycee said. “Looking a bit unwell there, aren’t you?”

  “Shhh-hhh, shhh,” Tripp squealed and nearly puked on his own shoes. His face broke out into a sweat. “Muh, muh.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Mmhmmm,” Tripp insisted, fighting against his right arm.