The bathrobe was too big, it was dragging on the floor. He shouldn't have been surprised when he saw that all the cats here were even bigger than Rerra. At least there was absolutely no draft in this mobile tent.

When he came out of the bathroom, Rerra was still there, now naked. Blood shot into his face and elsewhere.

She squeezed past him without noticing. "Thanks for being so quick." And the door was closed.

He stood in his bathrobe tent and took a few moments to calm down. Only the washing machine made some muffled noises, but those did not offer any guidance. Should he go to the other cats or wait for Rerra?

He walked slowly into the small octagonal lobby. To the left was the door to the corridor, straight ahead was the kitchen and to the right was apparently the den. Whatever that implied. He took a deep breath and entered again the long kitchen. As soon as he appeared, the three cats turned their heads to look at him. This time they wore aprons, and they looked at him for real, not with the hungry stares of before. But soon Kit looked down and her sister followed. Eli shook her head and her head fur waved in the air. "I," she began, hesitating again, "need to get you chomeching, er, more elegant. Even an apron would be better."

So he followed her back into the changing room next to the bathroom. When Eli walked, it was as if she was flying with the fur trailing behind her. His mind began to wander even on the twenty steps she took. He still imagined Eli soaring through the Fallerian skies while she went through some drawers. High up in the Fallerian sky might be the right place for this cold-loving creature. Which reminded him. "Could it be something a little warmer?"

"Oh, cho thich ich why humanch cuddle cho much."

The innocent remark drove all the blood into his face. "Eh, no? It is just much warmer on Fallerian. Almost always 305 Kelvin or more."

She paused her search again, now looking directly at him. "305? How can you?"

"No fur," he answered her unfinished question. "You certainly have a very nice long one."

"Not niche, too warm. But good for buchinech." He had hit a sore spot. So he stayed silent, not wanting to hand out another badly received compliment.

She rummaged now through the top drawers. "Here!" She held out a bundle of clothes in her paw.

There was a pair of briefs that might fit him, long yellow-green trousers with a tail-hole, a pink T-shirt and a purple hooded sweatshirt with yellow dots in signal colours. Even on duty, firefighters dress more conservatively. No way to go anywhere without being spotted from a distance. Rerra had not mentioned that cats were colour-blind, but this combination left no doubt.

"Don't worry, Tab doech not need chem anymore," she misinterpreted his hesitation.

He quickly changed into the briefs and trousers, using the tent-like bathrobe as changing room. Then the T-shirt and hoody. Thank goodness, he didn't have to look at himself. Only the sleeves reminded him of this fashion abomination. And that from a person with no fashion sense, if he trusted Jerka. "It's nice and warm," was the best praise he could offer. Apart from the draft at the tail hole, but the hoody covered that well enough.

"Yeah, Tab wore it when chee got her adult fur."

"You really go without clothes all the time?"

"Me, yech, the other, no, only in the den. You can feel how thick it ich." She held up her more than hand-long fur. "Come clocher, I don't bite."

The biting metaphor didn't work for her. Still, he was curious, so he touched her hesitantly at the elbow, and then, at her request, pushed his hand in until he reached the skin under the fur. She was warm, warmer than his hand. But then, Rerra had not been cold when they had been together. Well, at Fallerian.

"You chee, only chich tongue for cooling." She stuck out her tongue, which was almost as long as her snout. "Chupid tongue, can't even chpeak well. I would die at 305."

He wasn't sure what to say. "Sorry, I didn't."

She waved her hand (and the fur on her forearms). "My fur is the reachon they hire Petra Catering. And me. Let'ch go to the otherch."

* * *

Kit and Tab had brought their knives to their intended use and three pots were simmering on the stove. Pots so large that even one would be too much for the five of them. And if that was not enough, Eli joined them. Only the blade of her knife protruded from her furry paws, but she cut some orange vegetables into little sleeping cat shapes with an astonishing speed. Even the shards were evenly sized and collected for another dish. And Kit and Tab were not far behind, buttering and frying as if half the station would soon be arriving for the finest dinner.

He had seen Llandradroß cooking in the restaurant and also Jerka had shown her skills in the galley. But these cats were true chefs, they not just cooked, they lived the food. He had never seen anyone go into flow in a kitchen, but that was the best way to describe it. It was a joy to watch. Well, and those shapely cats themselves in the aprons ...

After a while, Rerra came. Her clean fur looked fluffy again as long as he did not compare it to the other cats. She wore navy shorts and a navy top with a single gold star. It was a bit tight, not that he complained. The dark blue looked very elegant on her and the star suited a pilot.

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

Rerra did not join the others. Instead, she sat down on the bench with him.

He nodded in their direction.

She looked down. "Not good at cooking," she whispered.

"I don't believe it," he smiled back. Comparing herself to these three master chefs in white and black stripes was not a proper measure.

She smiled back. And then she yawned, so wide he could have put his head between her teeth. Extremely contagious, he yawned too. To not catch another yawn, he turned his eyes back to the chefs, each of them handling their tools with ease and confidence, an efficient elegance. Compared to Rerra, the smooth fast cutting action of these tall cats screamed predator even on the fluffy Eli. Rerra was taller than him, but she barely reached the shoulders of these cats.

A timer went off and Kat walked from the stove and cutting boards to the other side and took something out of the oven that smelled and looked very much like a real Krantagratin. Despite her earlier remarks, Rerra got up too, unfolded a stainless steel trolley next to the bench and helped load it with the prepared dishes. By simply draping a dark green felt over the middle and arranging the plates and bowls, they transformed this utilitarian steel rack on wheels into an exclusive sideboard that would not be out of place at a partnership contract signing among the wealthy. And all this while there might be still fighting outside.

Now he wanted to help too while Rerra stacked the trolley with bowl after bowl. But her look made him sit down again.

So he watched even more dishes put on the trolley. He could almost hear the steel creaking under the load.

Tab nodded, put her apron on a hook, took the inhalator and walked out of the kitchen in a fluid motion. It still broke the flow, everyone stood dazzled for a moment.

Then Kit and Eli got out of their aprons too and Eli was drying her fur, damp from cooking, in an oversized hand dryer.

Kit turned to him and smiled. "Is there anything you like?"

He deliberately looked past her on the trolley. "All this looks amazing, thank you."

Kit looked very happy, a full-toothed smile, a fluffy predator trying to look cute. He smiled back, cautiously. Despite their nice bodies, his lower brain still wanted to throw stones and run away.

Tab came back. "Give them a fifty." And she was standing at the door to the lobby.

He heard some running and some giggling. And then an older voice saying, "No, Patty, you don't. Go on."

"But I want to see them now."

"Toilet and shower, no water since yesterday. Now is no playtime for a dirty kitty."

That had convinced the kitten, for he heard no further complaints.

Eli and Kit adjusted the position of some dishes by a millimetre or so.

Rerra came to him. "Usually, we are all naked in the den. I am wearing my old school uniform for you."

"Thank you," he replied automatically.

"I mean," she hesitated. "You know, you may be the first human entering."

Great, no pressure.

"Of courche not. Hopkinch II himchelf had been a frequent guecht," Eli interjected.

"I mean since Petra has moved to the station."

Eli shook her head. "Only the clanmother knowch. Buchinech chtaych buchinech."

Just for a moment, he felt more sorry for Eli.

Rerra did not give him time to think. "Anyway, inside will be the clanmother Codeson, two other cats close to my age, Yuha and Fieta. And the youngsters and the kittens. All naked, and apart from Yuha and the clanmother they have never seen or smelt a grown male." She looked at him.

If this was meant to help him, she had failed spectacularly. "I can c-can wait outside," he stammered.

"No, never, no guecht ich waiting outchide!" Eli half shouted.

He shrank even more. Cold sweat ran down his forehead. But Rerra did not seem to notice.

"I know it is too cold for you. But I would like to take off my clothes." She did the big eye thing that only cats can do.

He had absolutely no choice, the smile was on his face before it had even registered in his brain as he slowly nodded.

"Though so." She grinned too.

* * *

While the cooking had eased the tension in the cats, it was back. They waited in the kitchen, all naked by now, all of them avoiding looking at him, eyes (and snouts) down, or turned away. He was looking down, too.

Eventually, the door was slit to the side and a new cat entered, the first no bigger than himself. A young one too, noticeably less female and with shorter fur. She stared at him. He was her first real human as Rerra had said before and likely her first male in the flesh.

Only when Eli made some very inhuman hissing noises did she look down. "We are ready," she whispered.

"Coming." Rerra took his hands and was the first to move. The whole atmosphere was full of things left unsaid. Despite their assurances, he felt very much like an intruder and more and more like he should not go. Even though they spoke Standard, the language of the humans in the galaxy, he felt very alien. But Rerra's iron grip left him no wiggle space, literally. He looked directly at her while she dragged him forward, her beautiful body with the thin layer of fur over the muscles. But her eyes were staring forward.

The few steps to the lobby and then left through a larger door into a large room. A room that screamed 'alien' to him, as different from Fallerian as it could be. A few black and white striped furs hung on the walls; perhaps the cat's version of the family portraits? Rugs, their black and white patterns perhaps also woven from cat fur, covered about half the floor. There were no corners, all the edges were rounded, making it difficult to judge the size of the room. A low dais ran along three sides, entirely covered by more rugs and some cushions.

He quickly lowered his eyes again as too many pairs of eyes were staring at him.

Rerra bowed deeply to the oldest cat who was sitting on the dais opposite the entrance. "Clanmother Codeson, forgive me for bringing another unannounced guest. May I present the human male Marik Llandradroß of Fallerian, my current contract partner."

He did not need her tug, he bowed too, as best he could.

The clanmother made some noises, probably the cat version of a disapproving sigh. "Welcome to Petra den, human Marik Llandradroß." The clanmother had a surprisingly deep and soft voice. "Rerra, we are all glad you found your way back so quickly. But I would not mind less regular surprise guests."

Rerra bowed even deeper. "I am very sorry, I had no intentions. But in these dire times."

The clanmother ignored her. "Please, come closer, Marik Llandradroß."

Her pronunciation of his name was perfect, he could even hear the ß. He straightened his back and walked towards the clanmother. "Thank you, Clanmother Codeson. Just Marik is all right."

The clanmother stood up as he straightened. She was only a little taller than Rerra. They looked at each other. This close together, he could see that her fur was more curly and uneven, and the wrinkles at the neck, although the black and white stripes hid them well. She looked at his face for a long time, catching his eyes when they met. Finally, he looked down.

"Marik Llandradroß, as our guest you will eat first."

He was confused. The clanmother closed her eyes and sat down again. Then a kitten patted his trousers. "Human Marik, fill your plate. Guests eat first!"

Hesitantly, he walked over to the loaded food trolley.

"Plates are down here," the kitten's tiny voice announced.

He bowed under the trolley, took a plate from the bottom rack and then put an already perfectly cut rectangular Krantagratin on his plate. And then hesitated again about what else to choose. One of the carved figurines, some salad and a vegetable pie. He bowed once more to the clanmother and then went back to the low dais to sit down next to Rerra.