Jaycee chuckled to himself, “Ha. Well, you can always—”
Jelly pressed her chin to the plate and licked at the chunk of jellied chicken pâté.”
“Or you could do that, instead.”
Wool lifted the jug and poured herself a cup of water, “Leave her alone, Jaycee. She’s had a rough day.”
“Miew,” Jelly’s ears pricked up at Wool’s cup at the edge of the table. Bonnie watched the girl’s infinity claws expand.
“Jelly, what are you--”
“—Meow.”
SWISH-SWIPE!
She knocked the cup of water off the table. The water splashed across the floor.
“Oh, now look what you’ve done,” Wool huffed and tore a piece of towel from the middle of the table, “You know, you should really clean this up.”
“No, I shouldn’t, mommy. You should,” Jelly swung her head left and right, satisfied at having carried out her instinctive objective.
Tor walked into the room and placed his right hand on his hip, “Hey, Jaycee?”
“Huh?” The big man turned to look at him, “What’s up, comrade?”
Tor pointed to the hunk of metal around his neck, “I did what you asked. I taught her as much English as I could. It went well. Now can you please take this damn device off?”
Jaycee lifted his gloved Baldron-hand and threatened to hit the activate button, “How do you want me to retrieve it?”
“How do you think?” Tor whined.
“Either way suits me. Your head attached or detached, your call.”
The rest of the crew giggled to themselves - all except Wool, who didn’t find the taunting especially funny, “Jaycee. Come on, leave him alone.”
“Attached, please,” Tor made his way over to the free chair and reached for a piping hot tray of stew.
“Suit yourself,” Jaycee hit the second button. Tor’s Decapidisc beeped and unbuckled, folding out into a backwards “E” shape.
Tor caught it in his hands and slammed it to the table, “Thank God that’s off me. I never wanna wear that again.”
Jaycee shoveled a spoonful of food into his mouth, “Then don’t be a twit, and you won’t.”
Jelly’s ears flicked out. She looked at Jaycee, “Mommy says you shouldn’t speak with your mouth full.”
“Mmm,” he covered his mouth and spoke through his food, “She’s right. Sorry.”
“That’s okay.”
A moment of respite fell across the room as everyone ate their dinner. No one spoke for once. Dinah Washington’s dulcet tones soothed their ears as they continued to eat.
It was maybe the second time since Opera Beta left Cape Claudius nearly three years ago that they enjoyed each other’s company. They’d been through so much together, after all.
Tripp grabbed his cup of water and held it up, “I’d like to propose a toast.”
“Toast?” Jelly licked her lips, “Like hot bread? I wanna try toast.”
“No, it’s not that kind of toast, honey,” Wool lifted her cup with the others.
Jelly didn’t have a cup to lift - just a saucer of milk next to her plate of jellied chicken.
Tor felt like he couldn’t join in given his history.
“That’s right, Russian,” Jaycee said. “Keep your cup of water on the table.”
“I will,” Tor threw a clump of stew into his mouth and turned away.
“To Space Opera Beta,” Tripp said.
“To Space Opera Beta,” everyone chimed.
“And to Daryl Katz and Haloo Ess. Gone, but never, ever forgotten.”
“To Katz and Ess,” Bonnie, Jaycee, Wool, and Tripp said before taking a gulp of water.
They slammed their cups to the surface of the table and continued eating.
“So, Jelly,” Tripp chewed on his food, “There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you this whole time.”
“What?” She lowered her head and nibbled at her chicken.
“Now you can speak, and all. I think I ask for everyone here. Hell, everyone who ever owned a cat. When you were a regular cat, what, uh—”
“—What, uh, what?” Jelly lifted her head and mocked him.
Tripp couldn’t get the question out of his mouth. He’d always planned to ask the question of his own pets if the situation ever arose. Of course, it never did. He couldn’t formulate the question and quit talking.
Wool had a go in his place, “Honey, I think what Tripp wants to ask is… when you were a real cat, what was it… like?”
“What kind of stupid-ass question is that?” Jelly snapped.
“Well,” Tripp interjected with his second futile effort, “What is it like? Being a cat?”
“Are you seriously asking me that?” Jelly huffed and palmed her plate toward the edge of the table, “Billions of years of evolution in two days and you want to know what being a cat was like?”
The crew were stunned at her outburst.
“Idiots,” Jelly continued to lick her chicken.
“Well,” Tripp rolled his shoulders and tried to keep his dignity intact, “What do you think about when you’re a cat?”
“I dunno,” Jelly eyed the others, hoping they wouldn’t clock her secret attempt to push the plate over the edge of the table, “Killing smaller things than me. I like to play with them and watch them scream while they die. It makes me feel good.”
Jaycee wiped his mouth and took a sip of his water. The answer she’d given crept under his skin.
“Then I bring the bodies home to pay for my food.”
“Like a trophy?”
“Atrophy? No, my muscles are strong.”
“No, a trophy. Like a medal. For your owners? To show your appreciation?” Tripp asked.
“Umm, no. The trophy, as you call it, is more like a pat on the head that they’ve done well.”
“Hmm,” Tripp poked his food in deep thought, “Did you ever have a mommy and daddy? Siblings?”
“My brothers and sisters can look after themselves. My real dad tried to kill us. I hate him. I hope he’s dead.”
“Oh,” Bonnie said. “That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?”
“Did your dad abandon you and your family in a cardboard box on the road hoping you’d get killed?” Jelly asked.
Bonnie looked at the others, “Um, no?”
“Hmm,” Jelly shrugged her shoulders, “My loyalty is to the people who feed me. And Jamie. I miss Jamie. Friend.”
Jaycee wiped his mouth and swallowed the last of his food down, “Ah, yeah. The kid. Heard a lot about him.”
“He was your friend, huh?” Bonnie grinned with affection.
“Mommy,” Jelly pointed her infinity claw at Wool and then at Bonnie, “Friend.”
“Aww, honey. You’re my friend, too.”
Jelly moved her claw to Tripp, “Friend.”
“I’m honored, Jelly. Thank you.”
“Yes,” Jelly moved her claw Jaycee, “Friend.”
“Thanks, Jelly. You’re not so bad yourself.”
“You’re welcome.”
Jelly pointed her claw like a gun at Tor, “Dickhead.”
“What?”
Everyone burst out laughing.
“Dickhead,” Jelly repeated and pretended to shoot him in the face, “Pow.”
“Stop saying that,” Tor yelled. “I am not a dickhead.”
“She’s spot on, comrade,” Jaycee nearly choked with laughter.
Tor buried his head in his hands, lamenting the day he ever set foot on the damned spacecraft. Of all the ridiculous and nasty events that had happened to him, being called a dickhead by a half-cat was the most humiliating.
Jelly scraped her claws along the table as the howls of laughter died down.
“Jamie wasn’t friend, really. More like brother. Actually, he is my brother. I miss him.”
“I’m sure he misses you too, honey,” Wool threw her a smile of affection.
“Maybe,” she yawned as wide as possible. Her fleetingly scary app
earance stunned everyone at the table, “I’m tired.”
Jaycee leaned over to Tripp and whispered, “I hate it when she does that. She looks so scary. Those teeth and eyes. Brrr.”
“I know.”
Bonnie set her spoon down on her plate, “What do you miss about being a regular cat, Jelly?”
“Why, am I an irregular cat?”
“You could say that,” Bonnie giggled. “You’re hardly an everyday pet, now, are you?”
Tripp and Jaycee washed down their food with a gulp of water.
“Hmm,” Jelly gave the question some thought, “Probably being able to lick my own butt hole—”
SPRAASSHH!
The two men spat out their water upon hearing the answer. Much of it hit the table and Wool’s face.
“Ugh, really?” She wiped the water from her cheek and flung it to the ground, “That’s gross.”
“Sorry, Wool,” Jaycee cleared his throat, “Say that again, Jelly?”
Jelly ran the side of her arm along the edge of her plate, pushing it even further towards the edge of the table.
“Licking my butt hole. And other parts. I hate taking showers, but I can’t reach some areas of my body, anymore.”
“That sucks,” Jaycee said, “I know if I could do that, you’d be looking at an empty chair right now.”
Wool kicked Jaycee’s leg under the table, “Jaycee. Don’t be disgusting.”
“Sorry. It was just a joke. Don’t lose your temper.”
Tripp stood out of his chair and collected up the dirty paper plates, “We’d better get some rest. This is truly the calm before the storm.”
“You got that right,” Jaycee cracked his knuckles.
CLICK-CRUCK-SPLATT!
Tripp looked at Jaycee’s gloves, “That’s one hell of a bad knuckle you had there, Nayall.”
“That wasn’t me.”
Everyone turned to Jelly to see her plate was missing. She stared back at them, refusing to accept any liability. Then, everyone lowered their head under the table - and saw the upturned paper plate bleeding its chicken fusion across the floor.
“Miew,” Jelly whined as the heads returned from underneath the table, “It fell.”
“Bad girl,” Wool snapped at her. “You knocked it off again.”
FIZZ-SWISH!
A book-shaped holograph appeared above the table with extreme haste, “Guys, can you hear me?”
“Manuel?” Bonnie stood up, “Yes, we’re here.”
Manuel scanned the room and flapped his pages together, “Where are you?”
“R and R,” Tripp said. “What’s wrong?”
“They’re coming.”
“Who are?”
“The Shanta things. They’re headed for Botanix at speed.”
“ETA?”
“Thirty minutes, maybe less. If you were planning on getting rest, I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait till we’re all dead.”
Jaycee walked away from the table, “Pfft, charming. Okay, girls and boys. This is it.”
“Where are you going?” Tripp ran after him.
“Weapons and Armory, Healy. Where my specialty lies. I might suggest you do the same,” Jaycee turned to the others, “I suggest you all do the same.”
He lifted his forearm to his mouth and stepped out of the room, “Tor, this is Jaycee. Do you read me?”
“Yes, I read you.”
“Meet me at Weapons in two minutes. We’re at war,” he said, moving off down the corridor.
Tripp turned to the others. They seemed frightened - Wool, in particular.
“I guess this is it, then?”
“The sun didn’t get us first?”
“Nope,” Tripp backed up to the door, “Wool, take Jelly with you to Medix, please.”
Wool shook her head and screwed her face with anger, “No, Tripp,” she reached into her belt and pulled out her Rez-9.
“No? Are you defying a direct order—”
“—I’m defying death, Tripp. Jelly and I won’t waste away like useless mannequins in Medix. We’re fighting with you,” she said. “Am I right, Jelly?”
Gobsmacked, Tripp and Bonnie turned to Jelly for her reaction.
“Yeah, okay,” Jelly said and rose out of her chair, “I’ll help you take out the trash.”
Bonnie smiled at the remark.
Tripp exhaled and caved in. What other course of action was there, anyway? Everyone would go down in a blaze of glory - together.
CHAPTER SIX
USARIC - Weapons & Armory
Space Opera Beta - Level Four
Jaycee scanned the weapons in the armory store, “If we’re going to die, then we’re going down fighting.”
He unlatched three K-SPARK shotguns from the wall and slung two of them over his left shoulder. He passed the third to Tor, “Here, take this.”
“Really? You’re letting me have a weapon?” Tor thumped the side lever down and armed it.
“Don’t make me regret this decision.”
Jaycee grabbed the last six dumb bombs from the wall and tipped three of them into Tor’s hand.
“I guess we’ll need some of these. You have three, so make them count.”
Tor’s jaw dropped at the man’s generosity, “Thanks.”
“I’m not finished yet.”
Five Rez-9s and a spare D-REZ semi-automatic stared at Jaycee from the wall. He licked his lips and scooped them up in his arms, “Okay, that’s it. That’s all our inventory.”
He grabbed the D-REZ and pushed it into Tor’s chest, “This is easier for you to aim with. The magazine is full.”
“Okay,” he said, slipping the strap around his head.
SCHWUMP!
Jaycee threw the hatch shut. He kissed his fingertips and pressed them against the surface of the door, praying for good fortune, “Thanks for everything.”
He stepped away and looked over his shoulder,” You ready to go down in a blaze of glory, comrade?”
Tor ran after him. The sheer weight of the weapons slowed him down, “I don’t want to die if that’s what you mean.”
Jaycee palmed the panel on the wall and opened the door. He clipped the five Rez-9s to his belt and snorted, “Funny how we never get a say in what happens to us, isn’t it? Viktor?”
Botanix
Space Opera Beta - Level Three
Tripp stood amongst the rotten plants and stared at the flat horizon. The edge of Pink Symphony loomed against a blanket of a thousand white stars.
“This is it,” he said under his breath, “This is where it all ends.”
Bonnie held her Rez-9 in both hands and saw the oncoming horde of Shanta crawling over the dunes, “I figure they’ll reach us in five minutes. I’m going to kill every last one of those bastards before they kill me.”
“Amen,” Tripp patted her on the back, “How’s your new battery holding up?”
She reached over her neck and pressed her fingers between her shoulder blades, “Yeah, it’s okay. I’m not freaking out too much.”
“Good,” Tripp turned to Wool and Jelly, who appeared ready for battle, “You guys okay?”
“We’ll do our best,” Wool said.
Jelly held her D-REZ in both hands and swished her tail around, ready for war, “I am a fighter.”
Tripp walked over to Jelly and squatted in front of her, “I’m proud of you, Anderson.”
“If Shanta doesn’t kill us, the sun will.”
Tripp ran the back of his hand over her face, “That’s right. You’re very smart, you know.”
“I know,” she licked her lips and pushed her gun into his chest.
Jaycee stormed into Botanix with a range of weapons strapped to his shoulder, “Tripp, catch.”
He flung one of his K-SPARKS at Tripp, who caught it in his arms, “Fully loaded?”
“You know it.”
Tripp looked at the D-REZ firearm in Tor’s hands as he walked in, “I see you trust the Russkie with a gun, now?”
“Yeah,” Jaycee thumped the man on the back a little too hard for comfort, “I think he knows that he’s way down the pecking order of what’s going to kill us.”
Bonnie armed her Rez-9 and rolled her shoulders. She widened her eyes at the horizon, “They’re coming. Get ready.”
Tripp ran in front of crew and addressed them for perhaps the last time. He pointed to Jelly and made sure everyone was listening.
“This is it. We need to protect Anderson as best we can. Every single one of us needs to return fire if we’re to stand a chance of surviving. On no account are you to leave Opera Beta.”
Jelly nodded and pressed her baby bump with her elbow, “Miew.”
“Setting turret, stand by,” Jaycee held his K-SPARK out at arm’s length. The grip on the gun folded out in three directions and shot downward, attaching itself to the floor, “How many of them are there?”
“We’re vastly outnumbered, let’s put it like that,” Tripp said. “When you’re down to your last clip, use it on yourself.”
“Last clip?” Bonnie chewed back her anger at that statement, “How many bullets does it take to kill yourself?”
“You might miss,” Tripp said.
Jelly’s eyes reverted to the horizon. Something strange took place, “Look, over there.”
Everyone turned to see what she was talking about.
“Is it… moving?” Jaycee asked.
Wool stepped back against the wall and began to hyperventilate, “I can’t do this. I d-don’t want to die,” she said. The sweat forming over her hand caused the Rez-9 to drop from her hand. She caught it before it hit the floor.
The stars crawled across the black sky at a snail’s pace.
Tripp looked at the desecrated plants. The branch ends and leaves lifted toward the horizon. The grains of sand outside the broken wall trailed away and shifted.
Pink Symphony’s surface revolved, enabling a strong pull towards the horizon.
Jaycee felt his arms lift in front of his body, “What’s happening?”
“Ugh, ugh,” Wool’s heels skidded across the ground, “Oh God, I’m falling.”
“You’re not falling!” Tripp scanned Botanix for something to hold on to, “We’re spinning. The whole place is spinning.”
“Miew,” Jelly grabbed hold of a grounded plant tray to stop herself from flying out of the room.
Star Cat: War Mage Page 7