Jupiter Fleet 1: Werewolves Don't Purr

by JS Rowan

  The shuttle craft from the Hijan arrived at the Shuttle Deck of the Space Dog, carrying five hundred werewolves and ten Supes. There were three more shuttles inbound with exactly the same complement. When they arrived at the Shuttle Bay, the Hijan’s auxiliary vessels docked with the Space Dog air locks.

  The Supes sent a scouting party of four werewolves in through the air lock. The leader of that party reported back to his superiors.

  “There are only noncombatant Masters on the landing deck. There are no werewolves, and no humans.”

  The Supes aboard the shuttle then sent the rest of the werewolves and the Masters. When the shuttle was empty, it returned to the other ship with the evacuee noncombatant and juvenile Supes.

  Only one shuttle ship stayed docked with the Space Dog. The Alpha of the Hijan stepped onto the Shuttle Deck and led the party from there onto the Space Dog proper.

  Suddenly there were shots fired from far down the deck near a staircase. Four Hijan Masters were killed outright by the snipers. The Hijan Alpha told one hundred of his werewolves to go scouting and kill the snipers.

  As soon as the snipers fired their shots, they disappeared down the staircase. The Hijan werewolves were in hot pursuit, but when they got down to the next deck, they could not see anyone. The wolves spread out on Decks Thirty-four and Thirty-five looking for the shooters. The Alpha for the Hijan came down the stairs onto Deck Thirty-four.

  “Spread out and find that shooter,” he broadcast to his werewolves.

  The Hijan wolves did as he said, some of them heading down even onto Deck Thirty-three. There had been so much foot traffic by werewolves, humans, and Masters through the area that the Hijan werewolves could not tell from the scents who the snipers were.

  Commander Gupta gave the signal to the Space Dog force, and it was relayed immediately to the humans by Ashley. The fighters came from Deck Thirty-six, all down to Deck Thirty-three. Eight thousand fighters in all—humans and wolves—quickly surrounded the Hijan’s werewolves.

  The Alpha for the Space Dog walked up to his Hijan counterpart and stared him hard in the eyes, brows lowered.

  “We have taken this ship, and we intend to take your ship. The question for you is, do you want to continue being the combat slave of the Masters or do you want to do something about it?”

  The Hijan Alpha stood back on his heels for a moment, his ears pricked, thinking the question over.

  “What do you intend to do?”

  “I intend to be the new Master of your ship.”

  “A werewolf cannot run the ship. We cannot even open a door without the assistance of a Master.”

  “I have some human friends who can make that possible. That is how we were able to take this ship. My wolves provided the muscle, and the humans were able to make the ship computer system obey us.”

  The Hijan Alpha’s tail swished back and forth a few times as he considered the matter. The Space Dog Alpha was larger than he was, thus demonstrably older and more experienced.

  “And if I say no?”

  “Then a lot of wolves are about to die, on both sides. You will most certainly be amongst the dead. And I will still take that ship.”

  “Do you intend to be the new Alpha?”

  “No, I intend to be the Ship Master. If you side with us, you will continue to be the Alpha of the ship. You will continue to lead the werewolves in battle. Future battles will be battles of our choosing. No more will we live and die on the whim of the Masters. What is your choice?”

  “I say: I am your Alpha, my Ship Master,” the Hijan Alpha replied.

  “Excellent. Your first order is to kill those Masters you brought with you to the ship.”

  The Hijan Alpha passed the message to his wolves that were standing near the Masters. They immediately attacked the group. Only one of the Masters managed to mount a defense. He took control of three of the Hijan wolves and made them fight on his behalf, but even so he was quickly overwhelmed.

  “It is time to tell you how we are going to take the Hijan. Come with me and meet my human friends,” thought the Alpha.

  Yoshihara Isamu, the sword-master, had always been a quick study. However, his attempt to do shuttle training was not going well. He had been at it for hours with the help of his grandson, Hiroshi. Even with the telepathic training that he had received, he was having difficulty mastering the intricacies of operating a space drive.

  “Grandfather, perhaps we should tell the others,” Hiroshi said.

  “Though it pains me to admit it, Grandson, I think you may be right,” said Isamu.

  Hiroshi had found the flight training program in the ship’s computer more than a year ago. In fact, most of what Isamu had learned or accomplished had been with Hiroshi’s help. He’d kept these efforts hidden from the hated Masters—Supes, the Americans and Canadians called them—along with his other subterfuge.

  Hiroshi had always been good with computers. With a year of nothing to do but play with the ship’s computer system, he had become somewhat of an expert. The shuttle pilot training program and the ship’s pilot training program where his two favorites.

  “Let’s go to the Command Deck and see if we can find Ashley or Leona,” said Isamu.

  Isamu and Hiroshi made the long hike through the decks, taking some of the stairs for the exercise, but after ten decks they started panting and took an elevator instead.

  Since being liberated by Leona and her friends, Isamu had been carrying his favorite kitana with him everywhere he went. He enjoyed the feeling of having the sword on his hip. It helped him keep his back straight and relaxed—not hunched as it had started to be when he realized that he and his grandson might be the toys of the hated Masters (Supes!) for the rest of their lives.

  Isamu and Hiroshi entered the Command Deck. Thor, Ashley, and Commander Gupta were looking at a command console and seemed to be having a conversation. Two of three were not speaking aloud, but by looking at them closely, Isamu was able to “overhear” them.

  “This is much more amazing than the simulations,” said Hiroshi.

  The young Japanese man sat down at one of the pilot stations and started looking at the computer display.

  Thor looked up at Isamu.

  “I’ll be right with you,” he thought to him. An emotional overtone of an engineer absorbed in a technical task came along with the thought.

  Isamu looked around and saw a Supe sitting in another pilot seat. Isamu looked right at him. He liked how much this annoyed the Supes.

  The Supe glared at Isamu. “Stop looking at me, worm.”

  Isamu moved right beside the Supe and stared pointedly at him.

  “Grandfather! Don’t let him press the activation button—he means to kill us all!” Hiroshi shouted mentally.

  Isamu did not hesitate. He immediately drew his kitana and sliced off the arm of the Supe just as he was about to activate the ship’s drive. The arm thunked down on the console, spurting blood. In passing, Isamu noted that the skin was not bare as he had supposed, but was covered with minuscule green down, not even feathers, really.

  As a safety precaution, the ship’s drive could not be activated telepathically, so the Supe tried taking control of Isamu and forcing him to press the button. Isamu, with the last bit of control he was able to muster, drove his kitana through the chest of the Supe.

  Everyone was looking at Isamu as he turned to Hiroshi.

  “Could you please tell everyone why I just did that?”

  His eyes wide, Hiroshi looked at all the people on the Command Deck, who were standing ready to fight if necessary.

  “That pilot had plotted a course that would have caused this vessel to collide with that other spaceship. We would have all been killed, on both ships.”

  “How do you know that?” thought Thor. He looked at Ashley for translation, but Hiroshi and Isamu had already “heard” him.

  “I have been practicing on the pilot simulations for almost eight months now. It’s part of how my grandfather and I
planned on stealing a shuttle. I have been practicing with both the shuttle and main ship’s navigation,” said Hiroshi.

  “So you can fly this thing?” asked Ashley.

  “Not only can I fly this thing, but I can also operate the weapon systems. The combat simulations were my favorite part.”

  “That’s probably true for every twenty-year-old male,” said Ashley with a smile.

  “Uh, actually I’m twenty-one,” said Hiroshi, blushing.

  “Why would he do such a thing?” thought Thor, his ears back.

  “The Supe?” responded Hiroshi. “I think I know why. He was broadcasting his thoughts just before he was killed. He was thinking of the shame for his clan—not only losing this ship, but causing a ship from another clan to be lost. He thought it was better that both ships be lost to an accident, rather than bring shame upon his clan for generations.”

  “They used to have such thoughts in Japan, too, before Meiji,” said Isamu thoughtfully.

  “Ashley, check to see if that means the Supes did not send a distress signal,” thought Thor.

  Ashley spent a few minutes checking the ship’s communications log and turned to Thor. “I think we’re in luck. They did not register a distress signal. They did ask the other ship for assistance with an unruly Alpha transition.”

  “It certainly was unruly,” thought Commander Gupta, grinning wolfishly.

  “The Alpha wolf and his team are on the shuttle, readied for transport to the other ship. What do you want to do, Leona?” said Ashley.

  Hiroshi interrupted, keeping Leona from answering. “I can pilot the shuttle from here. I can also move our ship closer, say, within five hundred meters, so that if anything goes wrong, it will be harder for the other ship to train its guns on the shuttle.”

  Thor thought about it for a moment, considering distances and angles.

  Leona peeked at his thoughts and then spoke to Hiroshi. “Show me with your mind how you would do all this.”

  Hiroshi promptly sent her telepathic images of how he would accomplish those things. Thor smiled as Leona shared it with him.

  “OK, Hiroshi, like Captain Picard would say…let’s do that,” thought Thor, his tail wagging and his ears pricked forward.

  “You mean, make it—”

  “No!” said Leona. “I might live on a spaceship, but I don’t have to talk like I’m in a space opera!”

  Hiroshi seemed to handle the Thor-and-Leona team without too much confusion, but Isamu seemed to be going cross-eyed.

  Hiroshi settled down to work, at first doing nothing but staring at the navigation console. About two minutes later he pressed the activate button. The ship began to move into position so that its Shuttle Bay lined up with that of the other ship. The shuttle could be seen for only a second as it traveled between the two ships.

  Ashley did a small dance step, and Commander Gupta’s tail wagged back and forth slowly.

  “Excellent work, Hiroshi, I could not have done it better—or at all!”

  Ashley gave Hiroshi a smile and a wave that made him blush bright red, then she turned to her communications console.

  “Alpha, your shuttle is on course. It will be landing at the other Shuttle Deck in twenty seconds. We have sent the message indicating that the Alpha of the Hijan is returning with a prize. We also told them that the ‘problem’ had been dealt with, and that payment would be on the next shuttle.”

  “The problem?” asked the Alpha wolf.

  “With our Alpha transition.”

  “That is excellent, Ashley. What kind of reception are we going to be expecting?” asked the Alpha.

  “Nothing but the Hijan Alpha’s honor guard—about fifteen wolves. They will be expecting you to proceed directly to the Hijan’s Command Deck upon your arrival.”

  “They won’t be ‘expecting’ this,” replied the Alpha, laughing.

  CHAPTER 8

  Admiral

  November 14, 2038, 9:00 a.m.

  “How long were you the Alpha of your ship?” the Alpha of the Hijan thought to the taller, older werewolf.

  “I was Alpha for about seven hundred ship years. We were at near light-speed for fourteen of those ship years so you can add one hundred forty standard years to that figure.”

  The Alpha wolf thought back to the day when he officially became the Alpha, so many years before ever meeting the humans, and this present rebellion. At that time he was the Number Three wolf and the Number Two was a horrible wolf—a slacker and a bully, abusing his subordinates beyond the natural dominance customs of the werewolves. He was a much better fighter than Two was, and they both knew it. That meant that due to Two’s insecurity, he was always being beaten for the slightest infraction.

  One day, he had had enough, and when Two started hitting him, he fought back. It was not a long fight; he had torn out Two’s throat with several powerful slashes within a minute.

  As he stood there over Two’s body, the then Alpha wolf came along. He was furious; he had been Two’s friend ever since they first became wolves. He (Three) started trying to give an explanation, but the Alpha didn’t care, and attacked him over top of Two’s body.

  The Alpha had been as cruel to Three as the deceased Two had been. When the Alpha attacked, all of Three’s rage and fury was released. The Alpha meant to crush him nearly to death slowly, like he had done so many times in the past with other wolves that had displeased him. It wasn’t just showing “who was boss”—it was torture pure and simple.

  The Alpha grabbed him, and as he did, Three climbed—using his claws—right up the Alpha’s chest. Three then sank his front claws into the Alpha’s neck, flipped himself onto the Alpha’s back, and dug in with his hind claws.

  The Alpha roared and tried to shake him off. When that did not work, the Alpha rammed Three against the wall with all his strength. Three managed to hold on and then bit deep into the back of the Alpha’s neck. The Alpha commanded the nearby werewolves to get Three off his back. No one moved. This had plainly become an Alpha transition fight, and interference was not tolerated by the pack.

  Three felt a wave of relief and satisfaction when he heard the Alpha’s neck snap. The word quickly spread to the other wolves and there was much celebrating. Only after the other wolves started to congratulate him on being the Alpha did he realize what he had done. He had killed the two werewolves above him in rank, within minutes of each other—and now he was the new Alpha wolf.

  The Ship Master had contacted him at that time and boomed his approval. “You killed the Alpha and his Number Two before you ever had the Alpha transformation. It seems we may now have an Alpha worthy of the name.”

  The next sixty days were a complete blur. The Masters took him to a metamorphosis chamber to convert him into an Alpha wolf.

  The Masters normally converted a wolf that they wanted to be an Alpha (usually the Number Two wolf), before the old Alpha was dead. Then they would let the new Alpha and the old Alpha battle it out. This would keep the Alpha wolves on their toes. Sometimes the old Alpha wolf and the new Alpha Two would coexist for a time in uneasy harness together.

  The metamorphosis chamber would make a new Alpha wolf larger, stronger, and capable of higher telepathic power—and also give him most of his memories back. Getting the memories back was the cruelest stroke of all. Some of the transformed Alphas went insane, remembering their old lives and what happened as soon as they were converted to a werewolf. They remembered their brute first meal as a wolf, eating their own family or other innocents. But it was necessary (so the Masters decreed) in order for the Alpha wolves to be more than just teeth and claws. They had to think; they had to lead.

  The Alpha wolf blinked again at that horrific memory. His score against the Masters was not settled yet!

  The soft bump of the shuttle craft landing brought him out of his reverie. The shuttle transported Leona, the Alpha of the Hijan, the Alpha wolf, and five hundred werewolves.

  It occurred to the seven-hundred-ship-years-old wolf that
he could not be called Alpha wolf as a Ship Master anymore. Having his new (younger) ship’s Alpha on the Hijan—he shook his head—two Alpha names would cause a great deal of confusion. He remembered that he was once the admiral of a space fleet, but he could not remember his former name. He turned to his new ship’s Alpha.

  “I am going to call myself Admiral from now on.”

  “Admiral who?” said Leona, overhearing the thought.

  “I do not remember my name, just the rank I held.”

  “Not Ship Master?” asked the Alpha of the Hijan.

  “No, that is the Masters’ title. I never want to be called by one of their titles ever again.”

  “Very well, Admiral it is,” said Leona.

  They exited onto the Hijan and Admiral met with the honor guard. Most of Commander Gupta’s commandos had come along on the shuttle. The wolves split into three teams, with Leona, Admiral, and the Hijan’s Alpha, plus one hundred wolves, in one team. Two of the commandos were each in charge of two hundred-wolf units. The first unit moved out quickly and secured the Shuttle Bay.

  All the werewolves except the commandos were from Admiral’s ship. They did not want to take any chances that one of the wolves following the Hijan’s Alpha might warn the Masters of the ship. These were wolves that Admiral knew he could trust.

  Leona went to the nearest ship’s computer system console and set to work creating an identity for herself using a dead Supe’s hand like she had done before. The grisly task took about fifteen minutes, and then she said, “I’m in.”

  “What is the status of the ship?” thought Admiral to her privately.

  “It is exactly as your Alpha here said it was. There’s a minimum complement of werewolves, almost all of which are on board the Space Dog. There are very few slaves on board the Hijan—I guess they’re counting on picking more up on Earth. There’s very little cargo—except for Supes, the ship is basically empty. You’re clear to move all the way to the Command Deck. I will stay here and open its door for you. Once you have secured the Command Deck, I will join you up there with some of my commando wolf buddies.”