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A Cat is Fine Too
Chapter Three

Chapter Three

A sterile white panel light blinked with an electrical buzz, lighting up a dull metal corridor littered with bodies from far distant planets. The cold, unmoved, morbid scene was broken by two voices who spoke in two different languages that echoed through the eerie silence. A helmet peeked around the corner, human eyes scanning the carnage. Shortly after, a purple-haired cat alien poked around, flicking her fringe out of her face as she did.

"See anything?" Roe asked.

"All clear," Ranger said as he stepped out into the open, still keeping his pistol drawn. He moved slowly down the corridor, the rifle he had snatched from the lizard earlier slung over his shoulder, clacking against his armour as he walked. Roe followed behind, trying to mimic Ranger's stance with the pistol aimed slightly down. She watched him from behind, her mind focusing on her current situation and how she had ended up in this predicament.

Despite having just met Ranger, Roe couldn’t help but trust him enough to follow him, if only temporarily, to escape the station. However, his aloof attitude left her wondering if he had a viable plan for their survival, that trail of thought caused her to speak up.

"Ranger?" Roe spoke up, breaking the silence.

"Yeah?" He replied, his attention caught by something among the dead.

"Do you have a plan?"

Ranger kneeled down by an alien corpse, then grabbed the dead, limp insect-like appendage. "Since my ship is docked on the top floor, I’m heading there…" He trailed off as he plucked a few exotic-looking rings off its digits and tucked them away under his armour, "On the way, I’m looting what I can."

Roe’s ears flopped back a little as she watched the human search unceremoniously through the dead. "I understand taking weapons and ammo… But uh... Do you think this is being greedy?"

Ranger stood back to his feet. "I’m in uncharted space, unknown to us humans. I have no clue how far I am from home and if I’ll ever make it back."

“I’m still not seeing how taking things from the dead would help,” Roe inquired, matching his tone.

"Put it this way, I’m not sure if human crypto-credits are accepted here, or even if a currency exchange exists that accepts them. So I hope to sell what I find so I can eat. Does that answer your question!?" Ranger unconsciously finished with a harsher tone than he wanted.

Roe stared at him for a moment as they both locked eyes. She opened her mouth to speak, only to say nothing as her translator beeped to give a few approximations for the words used in Ranger's outburst.

“Roe,” The human tore his gaze from hers with a huff, “It's-”

“No, I understand,” She softly relented, ears now firm back, with her tail hung low that swayed gently. “I understand how you feel,” she continued, thinking back to when she was in the public showers, gulping down the water from the showerhead to fill her empty stomach, as she had to make the hard choice between fueling herself or her ship with the little Galactic Credits she had. Let alone all food sold in this quarter was made from plant matter.

The feline stepped closer to Ranger. “I’ve been wandering alone for three and a quarter years now.”

As Ranger's translator beeped to convert her home world's solar cycles to Earth's, he nodded. “About a week, give or take. I drifted alone in my ship for days on end, not knowing if I'd ever see anything other than the black void of space again. Trust me, that is more terrifying than these lizard goons…” The human shook his head, then paused with a furrowed brow. “Hang on, you mentioned being carnivorous when we first met. How have you been surviving?”

Roe grinned, something else she had picked up from the humans' mannerisms. “Let's just say many pets have gone missing on many space stations…”

Ranger threw his arms up in frustration. “And you were taking issue with me looting the dead!?”

“Well, it’s not exactly moral!” Roe snapped, her tail swinging side to side.

“Moral!” Ranger repeated before pointing at the insect-like corpse. “These poor bastards won't miss anything. Put poor Alan Alien out there missing his poor pet, while you tuck into a goddamn poochie burger!”

Roe paused as her translator struggled with Ranger's last sentence, but she got the gist of what he was saying, causing her tail to puff slightly. “Well, it’s something you are going to have to get used to!” She leaned slightly over, pointing her index digit at Ranger. “You said so yourself, carnivore applies to both of us! And meat is a rarity out here.”

“Omnivore actually, I was implying we both ate meat when you threatened to make my face a tasty snack.”

Roe looked at him dumbfounded, slightly retracting her pointed digit. “Well…” She folded her arms and turned around with a huff. “That’s cheating.”

“Cheating? How is that cheating!”

“Because it is, You're either one or the other, it can’t be both” Roe replied, still facing away from the biological cheater.

“And who decides that?”

“Me,” Roe replied with an overbearing sense of self-righteousness.

“And who came up with these rules?”

“Me”

Ranger started to smirk, “And I guess the galaxy revolves around you.”

“Of course.”

Ranger laughed at the outlandishness of her argument and how self-assured she sounded, “Alright fine you win.” He relents.

Roe felt a heavy hand on her head, followed by a ruffle of her hair and a scratch behind one of her ears that she leaned into. As her mind turned into mush, she froze up as she caught herself mid-purr. Bolting back around, she finds Ranger already walking away. She stood there and watched in responce, unsure what just happened.

“Come on, battle buddy, we’re wasting time,” the human said nonchalantly as he kept walking. “We've got a few floors before we can get to our ships.”

“Uh, sure…” Roe licked her wrist a few times and brushed over her ear which was still tingling from Ranger's touch.

“What's with this battle buddy thing anyway? You never really explained it,” Roe asked, as she placed her back against the wall once again, mirroring Ranger who stood on the other side of the entrance to the dull metal-clad stairwell.

With a nod to Roe, Ranger swung around and aimed his gun up the stairs. As he moved halfway up the flight of stairs, he swivelled around and aimed up to the other level above him. Satisfied it was clear, he answered, “It’s better than being alone, and a good battle buddy will always have your back.”

Roe caught up to Ranger, then tilted her head with one ear down. “So it’s just an 'I protect you and you protect me' deal?”

The human laughed, “You got it, but my dad puts it better.” Ranger put on a low, gruff voice, “If you're getting fucked on the battlefield, you can count on your battle buddy for a good time.”

Confusion returned to Roe’s face as she tried to make sense of what the human said. Thanks to the translator, the thought of mating on a battlefield added to her befuddlement. “And you mate with your battle buddy during battle?”

“Only in fubar situations and when you're both desperate virgins,” Ranger replied jokingly. As he stepped up to the stairway exit, he aimed his gun and then quickly lowered it. “Well, look at that, station security…”

Roe stood there wide-eyed as her translator beeped the approximate sentence ‘In extreme dangerous circumstances’. She let her gun drop to her side when she realised she was in one right now.

“Ranger-" She cut herself off, as the human had already exited the stairway.

The blue tentacle-haired alien, clad in skimpy white security armour, the breastplate straps looked like they were ready to snap from the size of her huge bust. The captain barked orders at her similarly armoured subordinates as they dragged the wounded into guarded rooms with a curt “Yes, captain.” She internally cursed how this shift could get any worse. They had already been pushed back out of the commercial and resupply floor, and now, presumably surrounded, radio chatter about the pirates making it to the lower floors had ceased. For better or worse, she couldn’t help but feel it was the latter.

The sound of weapons being cocked and loaded snapped her out of her thoughts as she noticed all her guards were now pointing their guns at the stairway. She whirled around quickly and gasped upon seeing a bipedal figure holding up his hands. Her translator's earpiece beeped as it spoke. She glanced down at her wrist-mounted data tablet to find the alien was speaking English.

“Woah woah!” Ranger held up his hands. “Don’t shoot! I’m just after the pirates…”

“Hold your fire!” The security guard captain yelled at her staff, holding a palm up behind her.

The blue alien guards behind her froze in their spots, their weapons still trained on the human.

“I am this station's security captain. I demand you to remove your helmet and identify yourself!” The captain yelled, her hand readied over her hip holster.

Ranger complied, slowly keeping his hands where she could see them as he unclipped his helmet and removed it.

“My name is Ranger, my race is human,” he answered with one hand still held up and the other holding the helmet under his arm. “I mean you or your staff no harm, I'm just passing through.”

The security captain was washed over with a mixture of fear and worry that settled in her fourth stomach as dread. Sure, she knew Deathworlders were on the station. With law and order jettisoned out the proverbial airlock, she prayed that allowing them to dock would not backfire due to her race's live and let live ideals. At least for now, the human was complying as she expected. But that left the whereabouts of the Kakila, she silently prayed to her god she was not cornered anywhere.

“There is another Deathworlder, have you seen her?” The captain demanded.

“You mean Roe, she’s… Uh…” The human looked around for his battle buddy. “Roe? Roe!”

Slowly, the Kakila emerged from the stairway’s exit, still holding her gun by her side, her purple tail now hanging low and dragging on the floor. Her mind fixated on what Ranger had said.

Ranger noticed the sudden change in Roe’s emotional state. “Roe? Are you alright?”

Roe looked up at Ranger, giving a long, emotionless cat stare. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, unaware she now shared the line of sight of the blue alien guards' guns.

The captain shifted her weight to one leg and placed her palm on her holster. Even if Roe's stare, not aimed at her, made her feel a little awkward, she asked cautiously, "...Is she alright?"

Stolen novel; please report.

The human scratched the back of his head, his brow furrowing. “She was fine a minute ago,” He took a long look at Roe, unable to place her emotion. “Is this a Schrödinger's cat scenario with emotions?” He asked. “Are you happy and sad at the same time until I ask?”

“I need to know…” Roe spoke in almost a whisper.

“Know what?”

“Are you a virgin?” Roe's intensity caught the human off guard.

“No,” Ranger said, recoiling slightly at the unexpected question.

The security guard captain and the others all looked at each other, collectively confused by the situation. The station was under siege by murderous pirates with enslaving intentions, and the Kakila wanted to know the human's sexual history.

Roe rested her hand on Ranger's shoulder as she looked down at his feet, then breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s a relief... So what are we doing?” Roe’s demeanour returned to how she was previously. Her tail returned to normal, but this time with a curious sway, she looked around at all the guns now aimed, her pupils shrinking. “Oh, hairball! An extremely dangerous circumstance!”

Roe’s gun clattered to the floor as she turned to flee, only to be swept up by a human arm, pinning her between the side of his chest armour and forearm. The Kakila hissed and thrashed, trying to escape.

“Roe, relax…”

Roe hissed again. “You lied! You are a desperate virgin!”

The security captain watched the Kakila thrash in the human’s arms, her mind swirling with questions.

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In a dimly lit mess hall, an old lady casually lit a cigarette as she conversed with her unit, who were either sitting or standing around a small table. Outside the spaceport, Earth slowly rotated, the blue pearl visible through the glass windows.

“No no, you’re going in the wrong direction…” The old lady flicked the ash onto the floor before placing the same hand onto her cheek, letting the cigarette burn between her fingers. The wisps of white smoke matched her hair, which was tied back into a bun. Her wrinkled, baggy eyes locked onto the young recruit who didn’t know his ass from his elbow.

“Babs, I grew up in Detroit, and my family has lived there for generations. I have no clue what you're talking about… Sounds like your dementia is kicking in, old lady.” A young black recruit slouched into a metal chair, frustration evident in his tone as he flipped a dismissive hand.

Babs rolled her eyes in response, unfazed by the comment.

“She has a photographic memory, Bird, I wouldn’t challenge her.” A young woman, barely out of her teens, spoke up, not bothering to look away from her top-of-the-range data tablet that was resting on her legs. She swung back on her chair, her designer boots resting on the table.

“I stand by my statement,” Bird sat up in his chair, rolling up the sleeves of his ranger fatigues before placing his muscular arms on the table. “Tell me then, where is this place?”

Babs continued to explain, “You got the old Seven G tower, right.”

“Right. Then you got a sudden mutation clinic across the street.”

“No no! You’re going the wrong way again, go left,” The old lady replied, blowing out a puff of smoke. Leaning forward, she started drawing imaginary squares on the table's surface. “You got the gun store here, then the liquor store, then after that,” she drew a bigger square. “Then you got the Shot for Shot Firing Range and Bar.”

“Right,” Bird repeated, nodding.

“Well, there on that block, a factory used to make the engines for the old Ford cars,” She clacked a long, yellow nicotine-dyed fingernail against the table's surface. “I worked there in my teens,” the old lady added, stubbing out her smoke in the ashtray.

A blonde man, who was half-listening to the conversation, looked up from his data tablet. He adjusted his glasses as he leaned against a massive glass window, unfazed by the fact that the only thing standing between him and the cold void was a thin sheet of hyper-reinforced carbonised glass.

“Babs, Detroit hasn’t produced a single engine in over two hundred years... Ford has been out of business for a hundred years,” he interjected.

“Princess, are you listening to this shit? The old bat has gone senile,” the young pilot called out to the designer-booted lady, using her nickname that still irked her after years of insisting on being called by her real name.

The young woman known as Princess brushed her hand through her long bleached blond hair. “So what? She’s old. You can just look at her to figure that out.”

Babs couldn’t care less whether he believed her or not, but she still confirmed, “When you get to my age, you do end up forgetting things,” she said, rummaging through her handbag and pulling out another pack of smokes. “The other day, in training, I thought I was flying the Lockheed Twenty Forty Forty and went to find the system check button, only to find a blank panel.”

The man leaning against the glass window interjected, “The difference between the Twenty Forty Forty and the Forty-Five is that the designers moved the system check to the left… From the top of my head, it took sixteen point five billion in R&D to make the improvement… I wouldn't worry about it. But still,”

“But still what, Michael?” Babs glared at him, lighting another cigarette.

Michael shrunk under the old lady's gaze, “Well…” He sputtered, slightly hiding behind his tablet. “If what you say about working in that factory is true, don't you think you’re a little past your expiry date… Let alone your life choices,”

Babs blew smoke from her nose, “Excuse me, young man, I take great care of myself, thank you very much,” the old lady paused to take a long drag. “Besides, someone has to stay up and watch you kids…”

“Well, you weren't watching Ranger, Unit leader,” Princess chimed in, her voice tinged with venom.

Bird snapped around at her, barking in Babs' defence, “It’s not Babs' fault!”

“As our unit leader, she should have checked if he did his primary system checks before. With her memory, I just put it down to laziness,” Princess retorted.

Babs watched them argue, her expression showing a hint of guilt despite her apparent nonchalance.

“He just disappeared, we all saw it! Space around his ship creased into a tight asshole, and he vanished!” Bird started to shout.

“We will find him, and wherever he is, he’s surviving. This is the Ranger we are talking about,” Michael said as he turned off his tablet and placed it on the table.

“Well, he is the embodiment of the Ranger Corps,” Bird couldn’t help but smirk as he paraphrased something Ranger once said during his induction interview.

This earned a small smile from Babs as Bird and Michael shared a laugh. Princess, on the other hand, frowned as her attention returned to her tablet.

The laughter was cut short as Babs' handbag rang, emitting the ancient tune of Nokia. She dug through her handbag and placed the age-old device against her ear. “Hello, this is Babs, unit leader of Ranger Corps Unit Alpha. How may I help you?” She paused, listening to the voice at the other end. “Yes… Uh-huh… That’s good news… No, this phone is fine. It’s built to last… I’ll relay the orders, sir,” the unit leader finished with a cheerful "buh-bye" before ending the call.

The unit looked at her intently, awaiting their next orders.

Babs stood up on shaky legs, using the table as support. “That was the Sergeant. The meeting went well, and we got the green light. We need to meet up with the science team in one hour in the hangar. I advise you to pack your things now…”

With that, everyone saluted their unit leader and promptly left the mess hall, except for Princess. With a sigh, she pressed an on-screen button and simply waited.

A moment passed before a set of polished leather shoes elegantly stepped behind her.

“Servant,” Princess acknowledged the person behind her. “Have my items taken to the hangar and check if my new starfighter has been delivered. Daddy said it’ll be delivered today, but unfortunately, like always with UPS, the tracking number isn’t working.”

“Of course, Lady Rachel, it’ll be done,” said the grey, slicked-back-haired butler dressed in a twin-tailed waistcoat and black trousers. He bowed, touching a white glove against his chest as he did so. “Is there anything else?”

“That is all,” Princess replied. “You may go,” She shooed away her butler with a dismissive hand.

The butler bowed again, and without a word, left to complete his tasks.

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Ranger glanced at the floor plans of the station displayed on Guard Captain's data tablet, trying to focus on the highlighted areas while resisting the temptation to glance at her large bosom as she leaned over a desk, pointing at various locations on the screen.

Roe curiously looked around the room with some wonder, the screens that clad the walls showed live footage of this floor. She watches as guards help civilians and build makeshift defences with whatever they can find around the entrance to the floor above. She continued to look around until her eyes fell on the security captain.

“Then they’re planning to starve us out. That explains the attacks stopping once they pushed you out the commercial and resupply floor,” Ranger mused, keeping his eyes glued to the tablet for a good reason.

Roe, on the other hand, couldn’t help but stare. She looked down at hers and then back to the guard captain's, letting her ears fall flat. The conversation between the two others was tuned out as she tried to push hers together to create her own bosom.

“Roe.”

“Yes!?” Roe jumped as she heard her name being shortened, this time not protesting as she was more concerned about being caught.

“I was asking where did you get that armour?” the blue alien asked as she looked up from the desk.

Roe thought for a moment, not wanting to admit that it was looted from one of the dead guards. “Oh… Ranger found it in a staff room downstairs.”

Ranger smiled at Roe for her quick thinking before adding, “When Roe fell from a ventilation system. I had to find her something to cover up with, hope you don’t mind. But armour is armour.”

“It is quite fine, you can keep it Roe. It looks good on you,” Zila smiled.

“Thanks, uh…” Roe paused, wondering how to address her.

“Call me Zila.”

“Zila,” Roe repeated, then decided to correct her, “My name is actually Roelkilth’x’ill…”

“I think I’ll stick to Roe, no way I’m pronouncing that,” Zila laughed.

As Roe tried to explain what shortening her name meant, Ranger returned, pouring over the floor plans on Guard Captain Zila’s tablet.

The human interrupted, “Why don’t they simply overwhelm us with numbers? If it’s true what you said, that they've got a dozen destroyer-sized ships out there, they must be in their hundreds. And can't you call some backup? You know, this territory's military forces.”

Zila shook her head, the answer she thought would be obvious. “To answer the second question first, our communications have been cut off, and to answer the first question, It’s because of you. We captured one of those pirates, and from what we can tell after heavy interrogation, they had run into a human in their past. Slay for Days…”

Ranger perked up upon hearing that name. “One said that before, uh…” He glanced at Roe before continuing, “He bled out… Do you know of him?”

Zila nodded. “He's a legend in this quarter. Around ten years ago, he visited and stayed at this very station… We knew each other pretty well…” The captain trailed off with a hint of sadness in her eyes.

“That explains you are acting less nervous than the others around me, but Roe? She’s a Deathworlder too.”

Zila looked to Roe. “I've come across her race before too,” she confirmed.

Roe looked up in surprise, “you have?”

The security captain nodded. “It's the perk on a station, you meet all sorts. Though it’s the main reason this quarter is under heavy conflict. Let's just say the galactic council isn’t too fond of our live-and-let-live attitude when it comes to Deathworlders.” Zila tucked her tail between her legs to allow her to lean against the cabinets behind her. She continued, “Just allowing a Kakilian fleet into our territory unchallenged got us kicked from our seat in the council. Sure, your races seem intimidating at times, but to commit genocide… Our god X’lin would frown upon us ”

Ranger thought for a moment, then stood up from analysing the tablet screen. “I’m guessing that’s the Council's plan for humanity: destroy our homeworld, then leave us with nowhere to run…”

Zila gave Ranger a look of sorrow. “I’m afraid it’s the fate of Deathworlders in the galaxy. After they're finished with you humans, I can guarantee they will turn their full force on us for our interference…”

The human scratched his arm, not really worried. “I don’t think that’ll happen. They haven’t even managed to land on one of our frontier colonies. Having four empires declare war on us, we thought it was our Armageddon and the fight for our collective survival. Then we saw the size of their fleets…” Ranger trailed off with disappointment in his voice.

“That’s how it starts…” Roe said quietly. “It started with small fleets for a few years, as they claw down your numbers, then eventually one day they’ll send the Galactic Council's Grand Fleet…” Her mind flashed back to seeing the news footage of thousands upon thousands of ships of all kinds entering Kakila Territory, then millions of her kind trying to find any space-faring ship to flee their cradle world. She could still hear the screams, hissing, and scratching as Kakila pushed and crawled into any vessel they could find.

Upon hearing this, Ranger made a mental note to report this information back to Earth when the opportunity allowed. However, being so far outside human communication range would prove difficult. Another thought popped into his mind as he voiced it, “They throw everything they got at any Deathworld race they happen to come across… Why?”

“A long and ancient fear that is embedded in nearly every species,” Zila answered.

Ranger silently takes note of the vague answer.

“You don’t really seem that scared of us,” Roe stated.

“No, I was wary at first because I was unaware of your intentions. But I prefer to judge by the individual, as us X’Licsie do… And we don’t have that ancient fear. That helps too.”

The Kakila cocked her head to one side. “You don’t?”

“No, our race creators did. We didn’t. We are a mix of flesh, machine, and AI, created to look after their young… Though these days we look after young races within our empire.”

“So you’re galactic robo-nannies?” Ranger asked.

The security captain smiled. “In a way, yes. Our makers are no more. Let's just say the males of our ancestors preferred us over their own females… Well, that’s how the legends go.” She replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “Now, galactic politics and history aside, there is still the pirate situation.”

Ranger rubbed the stubble on his chin. “Right…” He returned to the floor plans. “Still doesn’t make sense. Roe mentioned they want her alive. They must know she is down here.”

Roe nodded in agreement, her expression grave. “I heard them discussing selling me. They don’t see any value in me being dead.”

Zila turned her attention to the human, her brow furrowing in concern. “And what about you, Ranger?”

Ranger responded bluntly. “They want me dead.”

Zila nodded, absorbing the new information. “It seems the pirates’ primary objective is to seize control of this station. Roe is merely a bonus to them, but you, Ranger, are the obstacle in their path.”

Roe watched as Zila's demeanour shifted, her arms folding as she began to formulate a plan. “Alright, that should do it,” Zila said, her eyes gleaming with determination.

Zila then turned her head to Ranger, her gaze falling on his mismatched armour. Strutting over to him, she reached out and inspected his chest plate, a smile creeping onto her face as she saw the badge embroidered on Rangers training fatigues. Leaning in closer, she spoke into his ear, “I can get you something better.”

Ranger nodded in agreement, though he couldn’t shake off the confusion that lingered in his mind. “Sure,” he replied, trying to make sense of the sudden turn of events.

Roe, noticing the switch in languages, leaned closer to Ranger, her curiosity piqued. “Ranger,” she said softly, “What did she say? She switched languages, and my translator couldn’t keep up. It sounded like yours”

“She said she can get me something better-” Ranger paused as he processed Roe’s question. Then it clicked.