Star Cat: Killer Instinct Page 3

  Noyin thumped the side of the van. “Come on. Don’t get all social justice on us now, man. We gotta get out of here before we’re spotted.”

  Sierra sniffed and wiped a tear from her cheek. Or was it a raindrop? She didn’t care.

  The rain came down like an angry lecture, soaking anyone stupid enough not to have covered themselves.

  Sierra pinched the bottom of her balaclava and tore it off her head. Eventually, she looked at Noyin and Rana, and then at Jamie’s shoes hanging out the side of the van.

  “We’ve done the right thing, haven’t we?” Sierra blurted through her tears.

  Noyin took pity on her. He stepped aside and held his hand out at the van, offering her in, “You know we’ve done the right thing. Now, please. Get in before this place is swarming with cops.”

  Sierra was reasonably satisfied with his response. She traipsed through the mud and hung her head in shame.

  The pair climbed into the van.

  Noyin stepped in after her as Rana switched on the engine.

  Sierra took a moment to analyze Jamie’s cherubic face, “I’m sorry, Jamie. We couldn’t not do it. We’re not the bad guys, I promise.”

  She ran the back of her wet hand across his face.

  Noyin gripped the van door and prepared himself to slam it shut, “Hey, Sierra.”

  “What?”

  “You’re right. We’re not the bad guys, so don’t start getting all maternal now. We don’t have time.”

  Noyin pulled the door across its rails as the van reversed away from the railings, taking most of the wreckage with it.

  He smiled at Jamie and winked at his colleague, “We’re not the bad guys, Anderson. USARIC are, and we’re gonna make sure they never forget it.”

  SCHLAMM.

  The door shut as Rana performed a handbrake turn and drove the van to the cemetery entrance.

  CHAPTER THREE

  USARIC Data Point

  Space Opera Charlie

  Location: Vicinity of Saturn

  Year: 2122

  Control Deck - Level One

  WHOOOSH.

  The thrusters blasted at full capacity.

  Space Opera Charlie tried to escape Saturn’s orbit with little success.

  Alex felt around his mask, ensuring that it remained secure around his neck.

  Tripp held Jelly’s newborn in his arms as he looked at Saturn through the flight deck windshield.

  The floating screen above the flight deck displayed the back-end of the ship.

  The wreckage from Opera Beta hung in space like a streak of garbage; hundreds of thousands of segments of what used to be home provided a reminder of just how screwed the remaining members were.

  “Beta’s gone,” Tripp walked over to Alex and offered him the kitten, “They’re all—”

  “—Dead,” Jaycee added. “All of them.”

  Alex took the kitten from Tripp’s hands.

  She meowed and opened her eyes for the first time. The light from the ceiling in the control deck blinded her temporarily, causing her tiny body to shudder. It was at that point Alex noticed a tiny ‘F’-shape made of white fur on her forehead.

  “Uh, what am I meant to do with her?” Alex asked.

  “Guard her with your life.”

  Anxious, Tripp found it difficult to tear his eyes away from the kitten’s face.

  Manuel II - or Manny, as the crew of Opera Charlie called her - hung in the air, awaiting orders.

  “Manny? Tell me we’re moving,” Alex said.

  “Hyper-thrusters currently engaged,” she said in her monotonous tone, “They’ve ten percent damage, however.”

  “Enough to get us back home?”

  Manny didn’t have an answer.

  As if on cue, a disturbance came from the back-end of the deck.

  Jelly sat against the wall in an immense amount of pain. She clutched the side of the communications deck with her claws and hoisted her hips forward, “My baby is coming.”

  She closed her eyes and squealed, in desperate agony due to the labor pains.

  “Another one?” Tripp ran over to her and held out his arms, “What do you need me to do?”

  “Leave me the hell alone,” Jelly squealed and clutched the console edge, “Nggggg.”

  “Excuse me, Tripp?” Manny sprang to life, “I’m afraid I have some good news and bad news.”

  “What is it? Give me the good news first.”

  “The thrusters are engaged at ninety-two percent. We have a better-than-good chance of making it home.”

  “And the bad news? I mean, apart from Charlie about to acquire a litter of kittens?”

  Manny projected a holographic image in the middle of the deck.

  Opera Charlie’s escape from Saturn had slowed down, perilously close to being pulled back, “We may not leave Saturn’s orbit intact.”

  “Oh, great.”

  “Maximum capacity on the thrusters, please,” Alex looked at Manny as he comforted the kitten in his arms.

  “We can’t outrun a black hole, Hughes.”

  “Is that what that is? A black hole?”

  “It resembles one. It’s not fully-formed yet. I’ll take my chances on outrunning it and not sticking around to find out.”

  Manny threw a holographic projection of the engine’s view of Saturn. It folded out in the middle of the room and showed the giant planet shaking around like a blender at full speed.

  “I’ll maximize the capability, but there are no guarantees. The force is threatening to pull us back in,” Manny said.

  “Just do it. Full throttle.”

  Jelly huffed and puffed. Her belly glowed a hot pink through her exo-suit top. She strained her stomach muscles and kicked her heels against the ground, “Oh, God. It’s coming, it’s coming.”

  Tripp, Jaycee, and Alex looked at the holograph footage of Saturn as per the view from the back of the ship.

  “If you believe in God, now’s the time to pray,” Tripp said, quietly.

  Jelly’s firstborn shuffled around in Tripp’s arms and meowed for the first time in her young life.

  “Wow, she’s started to speak—”

  BLAAAAAAAAM!

  The hyper-thrusters blew at full pelt.

  “I would advise anyone not currently screwed to the ground to take hold of something,” Manny said with all the casual grace of a grocery store announcement.

  “Muh, muh,” Jelly kicked her legs around and stomped her feet against the ground, “Oh, it hurts. It hurts so bad—”

  SPRRRIIIIISSSSHHH.

  Thick, clear liquid blasted down Jelly’s thighs and splashed against the floor.

  Tripp crouched to his knees and held her waist, keeping his eyes fixed on her groin.

  “Jelly. Crouch down.”

  “What the hell do you think I’m doing?” Jelly snapped and bent to her knees, “Oh, Jesus.”

  Perplexed, Alex sat into the flight deck chair with Jelly’s kitten cradle along his left arm, “I can’t believe what I’m seeing.”

  “No kidding,” Jaycee stomped back to Alex, allowing as much space as possible for Jelly’s impending delivery, “She’s already had one.”

  “Ngggggg,” Jelly yelped as her stomach bulged in and out. She squeezed her abdomen muscles tight and tried to fight the pain, “Uggghh.”

  Tripp lowered his head and raised his eyebrows, “Uh, Jelly?”

  Angry, she ridiculed the very man who was trying to help her, “Ugghhh,” she seethed, “What is it, dickhead?”

  “I can see a sort of sack trying to push out,” Tripp shuffled closer and placed his hands under her groin. “All you have to do is push—”

  “—All I have to do,” Jelly huffed in extreme agony, “Is kick you between the legs and bite your head off. Leave m-me alone.”

  Jaycee couldn’t not look at the proceedings. He could barely get any words out, “I th-think I’m gonna be sick.”

  “Sick? Big man like you?” Alex asked. “The simple act of
giving birth brings you to your knees, does it?”

  Alex looked at the kitten’s dark brown face once again, but this time he noticed a distinctive ‘F’ mark on her forehead.

  “Miew,” the kitten whelped for the second time in her life.

  She lifted her shuddering paws in front of her face and stretched her forearms in front of her face.

  Alex smiled at her, their eyes meeting for the first time, “Feeling better, huh? Stretchy-stretchy?”

  “Miew,” it whined once again and relaxed in Alex’s arm. He knew it was only a matter of time before the treat of releasing fatigue would manifest in a desire to jump and run around the ship.

  “Not yet, sweetie,” Alex nodded at Jelly as she produced the kitten’s baby sister at the far end of the deck, “Look. Mommy’s giving birth.”

  Jelly splayed her knees out as far as she could and pushed once again.

  Tripp turned his palms up, ready to catch whatever was about to drop, “Do it, Jelly.”

  “Arrgghh, shut up,” Jelly clenched the control deck and pushed once again, “Miew.”

  Manny flapped her pages together in an attempt to catch everyone’s attention, “I hate to interrupt your valuable time, gentlemen, but I seriously advise you to hang tight.”

  “Not yet, Manny,” Tripp shouted over his shoulder, keeping a stern eye on the sack squeezing out from between Jelly’s legs, “Can’t it wait—”

  “—Sure,” Manny huffed in her sarcastic tone, “I’ll tell Saturn to slow down a bit, shall I?”

  “Since when did USARIC issue their autopilots with a sense of humor?”

  “When the manned crews on their expeditions lost theirs,” Manny quipped.

  “You’re not funny, Manny.”

  “I beg to differ, Tripp Healy.”

  Jelly scraped the tips infinity claws along the surface of the communications deck, “Ugghh, someone shut that freaking book up. I’m trying to have a baby, here.”

  “Hey,” Manny complained, “Be careful with the paintwork.”

  “Shut up,” Jelly strained herself and scowled at Manny through her huffing and puffing.

  “Nearly there,” Tripp said.

  “I d-don’t n-need you to help me—”

  WHUMP-SCHPLATT.

  A goo-covered sack dropped into Tripp’s palms.

  “Got it,” he said as he balanced it over his fingers , “What do I do now?”

  “Nggg,” Jelly squeezed her eyes shut once again, still in pain, “I d-don’t care, just go away.”

  The dark sack wobbled around in Tripp’s hands. He turned to Jaycee and Alex to find them staring at him in disbelief.

  “Don’t look at us,” Jaycee said. “You’re the, uh, midwife?”

  “Huh?”

  Tripp turned to the sack just in time to see a tiny, white paw puncture through the skin from within.

  The little claws opened the filmy material out like a busted, soft egg shell. A shivering, white-colored kitten with its eyes shut lay inside.

  “My G-God,” Tripp whispered, “Jelly, it’s—”

  “—Gaarrggghhh,” she growled in pain and crouched down once again, “They keep coming.”

  The more Jelly growled, the more the ship shifted from side to side. At least, that’s how it felt to the crew. The thrusters ran at maximum capacity, trying in earnest to push away from Saturn’s orbit.

  “Jaycee, man,” Tripp shouted. “Come here and take the little one. I think she’s gonna unload again.”

  “She won’t be the only one,” Manny said with a degree of flippancy. She floated up to the windshield and tilted her covers to the super-massive swirl of God-like pink-and-purple light forming over Saturn’s surface, “Whatever that thing is out there, it’s trying to pull us through.”

  BRAAAAAM-BRAAAAAAM.

  Opera Charlie progressively lost the battle for escape. The last of the thrusters burst to life in a mostly-futile attempt to get away from the giant hole in space.

  BURRR-BUURRR.

  The nuclear thrusters blasted at full-throttle. The pull from the giant proved to be greater than the capacity to escape.

  “That’s us at maximum levels, now,” Manny said. “I’m not joking around, anymore. Hang on to something—”

  “—Wait, wait,” Tripp passed the white kitten to Jaycee and turned back to Jelly, “How you holding up, there, girl?”

  Jelly heaved and threw Tripp a dirty, evil glance, “Ask me that one m-more time and you’ll get my knee in your nose. Just make sure my babies are safe.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  Tripp stood up straight and immediately lost his balance. He tumbled sideways and crashed against the communications console, “Jesus Christ, what was that?”

  Manny shuffled next to him with an ‘I told you so’ look to her pages, “Yeah, you know that attempt to outrun Saturn I told you about?”

  “Yes?”

  “Yeah, that,” Manny said. “Now, will you at least attempt to protect yourself while we try to escape?”

  Tripp scanned the white kitten in Jaycee’s arms, “What are you gonna do?”

  “Uh, what?”

  Tripp pointed at the kitten in his arms, “I said what are you gonna do?”

  “Well, I was gonna ride it out with you guys?”

  “No. Not you, you idiot. I mean what are you gonna do about that kitten? The other one is safe with Alex.”

  Jaycee looked at it the white ball of damp fluff in his arms, “Oh. Uh, I have an idea.”

  He thumped the side of his thigh and opened the compartment. Two dumb bombs from their escape from Beta were nestled safely inside.

  Jaycee brushed away the filmy remnants and lowered her into the compartment, “You’ll be safe in here, pet.”

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Tripp screamed. “You can’t put her in there with the bombs.”

  “Why not? It’s perfectly safe.”

  “What if she claws at the pins?”

  “Don’t be stupid,” Jaycee huffed. “Do you really think I’d put a kitten in there if I thought it was strong enough to pull the pin from a grenade?”

  “Don’t ask me questions like that,” Tripp spat. “It’s unfair.”

  “What’s that meant to mean—?”

  “—Ugghhh,” Jelly fell to her knees in pain and hung her head in front of her chest, “Who cares? J-Just let him do it, Tripp.”

  Jaycee placed his boot on the deck, ensuring his thigh was horizontal. He lowered Jelly’s second-born into the compartment. A nice, comfortable fit.

  “It’s not for very long, little one,” he said.

  The dirty, white kitten opened her eyes just as the compartment slammed shut, catching a brief glimmer of Jaycee’s big, scary face.

  “Miew.”

  Jaycee took a seat next to Alex and fastened the belt over his shoulders, “Better strap in, Hughes.”

  Alex pushed himself back in the chair and handed the brown kitten to Jaycee, “Yeah. Hold her for a second.”

  “You got it,” Jaycee took the kitten and, much like Alex had done, immediately noticed with white “F” in her forehead, “Huh. Cute.”

  Alex strapped himself into the chair and clapped his hands together, “Ready to die? Jeez, look at that thing.”

  WHHAAAAARRRRMMM.

  Even though the mysterious circle of light blowing out in front of Saturn couldn’t be heard, it could certainly be felt through the ship’s interior.

  It wouldn’t stop growing… and growing.

  “I estimate approximately sixty seconds to impact,” Manny advised.

  “Update on the thrusters, please,” Tripp said, keeping his hands close to Jelly’s legs.

  “Fuel depletion is imminent. We gave it everything we have, I’m afraid.”

  “That’s it, then?” Tripp asked without much surprise, “We’re all dead?”

  “Eighty percent chance of imminent, death. Yes. Please remain seated.”

  “I’m not seated,” Tripp yelled at
her and pointed at Jelly, who was in danger of dropping a third baby at any moment, “Can’t you see we’re busy?”

  Jaycee hollered at the communications console, “Tripp, seriously. Jelly can look after herself. You need to get strapped in. We can’t have you injured.”

  Tripp shook his head in a way that suggested he was selfishly lamenting his luck, “Ugh—”

  “—Ugh,” Jelly squealed out loud and gripped the flight deck. She turned herself around, pressed her belly against the edge and bent over the console, “It’s c-coming.”

  Tripp sprang into action. He dropped to his knees and arrived between Jelly’s thighs, “Okay, I’m ready.”

  “Initiating power-down,” Manny advised nonchalantly. “Thrusters disengaged. See you on the other side, if there is one. Good luck, everyone.”

  Alex placed his arms on the console and covered the brown kitten with his chest, “Shhh. It’ll be okay.”

  Jaycee gripped the arms on the side of the chair and watched the hole spread out across the windshield. “Goddamn USARIC. They have a lot of explaining to do when we get back home. Good luck, guys.”

  WHUMP-SCHPLATT.

  Jelly dropped her next sack into Tripp’s arms.

  “Got it.”

  “Oh, God,” Jelly screamed at the top of her lungs, “I feel like I’ve just taken a dump the size of Neptune.”

  “Guys, get down,” Alex roared from the flight deck as a flood of light lit up the interior.

  The glass panels, shiny surfaces of each deck, the floor and walls all roared with light.

  SCRREEAAAAAAAMMMM.

  The hole enveloped the entire windshield and swirled around like froth in a freshly-stirred cup of foaming coffee.

  “Whoa,” Tripp’s feet lifted a few inches from the ground before he rocketed back-first against the windshield.

  He released the sack in mid-air.

  CRRASSSSHHH.

  Tripp hit the wall shoulder’s first, followed by the back of his head.

  CRACK.

  His eyes shut, forcing him into unconsciousness. The side of his jaw slung down his neck, exacerbating the wound he’d sustained from his suicide attempt back on Pink Symphony.

  WHUMP-WHACK.

  Tripp hit the deck along with the sack. Jelly kicked herself away from the communications panel and threw her arms out in front of her face with the intent of catching her third child.