Chapter Three
“ W e can blast it when it’s in range. I won’t miss, Captain.”
Kamau held his heavy pot by its foot-long handle and watched Talos cross his arms and flex his massive shoulders.
I feel like a scrawny little knight who still has the voice of a cub, he thought, watching Wendy practically melt into a puddle at the sight of her heroic husband strapping into his seat and adjusting the defensive laser system settings.
“Wait! Wait, wait!” Layla careened into the room, a disheveled Ardol fast behind her.
Kamau wrinkled his nose. The Leopardine smelled of heat. Female arousal.
Not my Queen. Not my scent to enjoy. How can these other males seem so stoic and unswayed, unbothered?
“We do not need distractions,” he hissed under his breath.
“There was an initial scan on a shuttle with that serial number, only about ten minutes before it had its coordinates changed—and there was no documentation for a change of coordinates. Someone on the MWIP staff had to do this manually, by hand,” Layla said excitedly, showing the tablet to Rupex and then holding it out towards the others clustered around her. “But I don’t even recognize...”
“It was for the Pantherite Province.” Ardol frowned, slicking back his mussed wave of carefully cultivated fur.
“Wait, where is that? I thought I knew all the major planetary chains of Felix Orbus,” Layla protested.
“Could we have a geography lesson later?” Talos growled. “The irregularity of a coordinate change—”
“Wait!” Ardol stole Layla’s tablet with a panicked expression. “Don’t shoot! The initial filing requests oxygenation and pressurization checks!”
Everyone froze. Even a cub would know that meant living beings were on the second shuttle.
“Pantherite Province. Derelict shuttle. Improper paperwork. Um,” Layla cleared her throat. “Does anyone else have a feeling that this adds up to something bad? Like ‘human females being trafficked’ bad?”
“But the coordinates were changed to reach a ship, our ship, not the Pantherite Provinces!” Rupex protested, the captain reaching for his much smaller bride.
“Someone at the MIPG overrode those coordinates with only minutes to spare. Probably one of the women inside the shuttle—and they just entered our coordinates.”
“But how would they know our coordinates? Something doesn’t add up,” Talos’ quiet voice was brittle.
“The math doesn’t matter. There are probably humans on board. We have to help them, Talos,” Wendy whispered, hands on her middle.
“Or it’s some sort of trap,” Talos argued. “Raiders. They are from the Sapien System—no offense, my love,” he gave Wendy a guilty look.
She shrugged. “Believe me, I know how horrible humans can be. But if there are bad people on that shuttle, you and Rupex will protect us from the threat,” Wendy said staunchly. “Oh, and Ardol and Kamau, too.”
Of course, I’m the afterthought. Kamau gripped his pan harder and hefted it to his shoulder.
“I’m getting Marcus and Skyla,” Layla ran to the intercom panel on the wall. “We should all meet down in the shuttle bay.”
“Ah. No. As the captain of this ship, I order all Queens and cubs to the interior quarters on A Deck until further notice. All Knights and Kings will meet the shuttle.”
“You’re going to terrify them,” Jaxson sauntered in. The big, rangy Canid never seemed ill at ease.
“We have two human Knights aboard the vessel. They can welcome the new lifeforms with us—if there are any.”
“Or if they’re still alive,” Marcus, the graying Leonid medic, came in with a frown on his face as he stared at his own tablet. “Got your images of the shuttle, Layla. That doesn’t look like it would survive a gentle trip to Mars, let alone an intergalactic jump. We should prepare to locate and notify next of kin.”
Kamau dropped his stance slightly. He didn’t know which was worse, the feeling of adrenaline flooding him, preparing him to battle some sort of space mercenaries from the depraved Sapien System (well, his father always said it was depraved, but his father had never met a human in his life) or the sick dread of opening the shuttle and finding dead and decomposing bodies of Queens like Layla, Jade, and Wendy, the pretty, tiny, furless beings he’d come to love and admire.
“This is all my fault,” he muttered, the words out before he was aware they were even in his mind. “I wanted all those supplies from Sapien-Three.”
“That’s not a fault!” Wendy said, reaching for him with a comforting hand. “You want to take care of us. You have a big heart, Kamau.”
He felt a little better. “Thank you, Wendy.”
Rupex cleared his throat. “That’s sweet, Wendy. Now go! You and Layla find Jade and get the cubs into the nursery. It’s the most secure area.”
Kamau watched the flurry of activity, noticing with immature envy that Rupex stopped to kiss Layla for all he was worth while Talos did the same with Wendy in the hall.
“Dax. Skyla. Can you bring a couple of the transport cots down here? Hm? Best case scenario, we have folks to put into quarantine. Worst case...” Marcus walked toward the shuttle bay, speaking to the human and Canid who had become his part-time assistants.
Kamau hung back.
Alone. Useless. No one will even need to eat in all this excitement. Unless...
A foolish fantasy exploded in his mind, completely out of the starry beyond.
Unless there are survivors aboard. I will nurse them back to health. Marcus can handle the body. I will handle the soul, which everyone knows is connected to the stomach.
THE FIRST CONTAINER docked smoothly, coordinates and advanced programming working in perfect harmony. Ardol beamed around the room despite the tense faces ringing him. “Okay, no one applauds the Freight Coordinator for how perfectly that lined up? Fine.”
Rupex made a huffing growl. “The next one is only moments behind!”
“I have a second bay cleared and—ooh, this one is a mess. Paneling coming off. Thank Bastet this didn’t dock on world! It would have burned up like one of Talos’ stinky candles.”
“ Healing candles. Less talk, more action,” the Tigerite grumped.
“I will open the shuttle.” Kamau stepped forward, pushing past Marcus and two long, wheeled cots. “No, I don’t have a Queen or cubs. I don’t have medical training or engine systems knowledge. Anyone can cook.”
Rupex shook his head. “I should go; it’s my ship. My duty. And no, my friend, not just anyone could cook.”
“Be careful, Kam,” Marcus advised. “If we lose you, I have to go back to cooking for him and Layla—and reminding them to come up for air and to actually eat.”
“But—”
“Don’t make me disobey a direct order, Captain,” Kamau challenged Rupex, and the Leonid slowly backed down. “It’ll be fine. I’m sure.” Kamau tossed a brave smile over his shoulder. “Seal the doors on both sides—in case.”
Talos nodded. “You should have time to make it back to our side of the bay if you hear or see anything suspicious.”
“Right.” Legs as wobbly as a plumcotta pudding, tail lashing with nerves, Kamau stepped forward into the shuttle bay. The doors hissed closed behind him. Through the reinforced window, he could see his crewmates watching over him, their faces grave.
“Steady... Steady,” he talked himself over to the first container, clearly a pod, an unmanned transporter and nothing more. The second bay held a shuttle that had once been rated for interplanetary travel—at best. It was certainly not fit to jump across galaxies! As he approached, sweat began to soak the fur on his chest and back. His ears, long used to scanning the vast Servali deserts for unwelcome sounds, swiveled and shifted.
Sounds didn’t come from inside the shuttle, but they certainly came from without. As he made his way past the corroding nose of the vessel, the engines hissed and smoked, then clanked to the ground with a thud that made the floor shimmy under his paws. The engines, blackened and sparking, were then joined by all the rear paneling, cascading down in a crash of metal and circuitry.
“The shuttle is dark,” Talos’ voice said through the intercom, spooking him.
Kamau wanted to curse the Tigerite for stating the obvious. “I see that!” he hissed back, storming to the shuttle’s hatch, courage bolstered by annoyance. Almost as soon as he touched the keypad, the hatch sprang open—as if it had been programmed to accept a Felid pawprint from the outside as opposed to relying on the usual manual opening by the shuttle’s occupants.
His stomach roiled when he peeked inside. There was a strange smell—but not the smell of dead things. “I need lights!” he hollered.
“What is it?” Talos demanded.
“Dark!” he shouted back. “Idiots.”
Bright lights flooded the bay, and he gasped. The interior of the shuttle was still dark, but he could make out two long chambers in the back—hypersleep chambers. He could also make out a figure on the floor. “Medics!” he yowled, stooping forward, now able to identify the strange stench. Vomit, urine, and waste. The poor human Queen on the ground—she had been through an intergalactic jump without the protection of hypersleep by the looks of it. Or maybe she’d been in one of the chambers and had clambered out too early.
“No food, no water... She must be dead.” His paw tentatively touched her shoulder, and he was stunned to feel her body gently rising and falling. No, not gently. Weakly. “She’s alive! One is alive!”
Marcus, Dax, and Talos were already beside him, a beam of illumination from Marcus’ paw-held exam light bringing the gloom of the shuttle into sharp whites, black shadows, and metallic grays.
“It’s a miracle. This is probably what saved her,” Marcus rolled the human over, and a small steel water bottle was revealed. “She must’ve had that on her or found it in the shuttle. Talos, on three. Dax, Kamau, check the chambers. This female is going to die in minutes without help, that is if it’s not too late already. One, two, three!”
Kamau looked at the body that Marcus was already stabbing a needle into, a bag of life-saving fluids, proteins, and sugars pouring into her vein from a bag he placed on her chest.
“Will she—make it?” he whispered.
“Probably not, but we can try,” Marcus said grimly. “Blood from the nose, ears, mouth... signs of improper pressurization and protection during a jump. Vomiting... Bile, no chunks of food. Poor thing. I don’t know when she last ate. At least space travel can prolong the time a human or Felid can survive without food and water... I’ll get Skyla to help clean her up and make her comfortable. I’ll start a chronic dehydration and malnutrition protocol and scan for organ failure.”
“These two are alive and seem fine. Chambers are off, though. I don’t know when they shut off, but they’re warm and pink. That means they didn’t lose oxygen, right?” Dax called.
“Right.”
“Can I help?” Kamau asked, eyes still fixed on the unconscious Queen as Marcus started a scan while pushing her wheeled bed along.
“You can push, I’ll scan. I’m not getting any permanent damage markers, which is downright incredible. I don’t even think I can get a blood sample yet, but she’s going to be low on magnesium, potassium, phos—”
Kamau shut out the voice, nodding.
She’s beautiful.
Even with pale, ashen skin and blood dried on her face, she looked like a human angel, a dark brown cherub with golden brown ringlets so tight they looked like they would spring if he poked them with his claw.
“Kamau, turn!”
He turned, just in time, sliding through the doors of the elevator and unconsciously rubbing the woman’s hand in his own. Cool and dry. “You will be all right. Dr. Marcus is the best. A pioneer. A genius.”
“She’s strong. Her vitals are already improving just from a few minutes of fluids. She’s a fighter and a survivor. A warrior Queen.”
A beautiful warrior Queen.
“Skyla! Thank Bastet. Get her into a gown, wipe her down, and get her into the quarantine bay. We have two more coming in.”
“Sirius’ teeth. What happened to her? Did you check for brain activity yet?” Skyla asked, pulling a long pair of shears from the cabinet in the bay.
“No organ damage aside from dehydration. I’m no mechanic—”
“That’s more my line,” Skyla cut the blue and gray uniform off the woman with precise strokes. “I saw the message from Layla and just before Rupex ordered all Queens and cubs to isolate in the nursery. If I had to guess, I’d say that’s an old SS 4000 model. The inner cores of those things are solid and kind of primitive, but the life support systems are always operational when the craft is in use. They have to run, even if there are beings in hypersleep chambers. She at least had oxygen and adequate pressure, at least until the jump. Then she should have been in the chamber. As it is... It’s a miracle that she’s alive.”
“Miraculous,” Kamau agreed in a strained whisper, watching soft mounds of flesh slide free from a stained, coarse blue and gray uniform of some sort, revealing lacy, delicate pink undergarments that highlighted the thick, voluptuous breasts, round stomach, and wide thighs.
Servali Queens were long and lithe, so slinky and sinuous. They had a charm of their own that no Felid male could deny.
But the sight of the smooth brown skin covering such plump, pillowy-looking softness...
Parts of him that he’d long assumed would wither away from lack of use were suddenly raging to make themselves known!
I am an evil, evil person, Bastet have mercy on my soul! This woman is sick—perhaps a victim of kidnapping! Here I am looking at her with lust while she is so ill. I am no better than the people who tried to trap her aboard that derelict shuttle!
Swallowing hard and forcing his eyes upward, Kamau asked, “Should I leave? Can I help? I am not a female. She might not like it if I helped. I will cook! What can she eat?”
“Uh... Nothing but rehydration packs until she’s conscious. After that... soft things. Broth. It’s a long shot that she’ll wake up. And yes, you should go. I need to get her thoroughly cleaned up. Her body lost control of its functions during the hyperjump, which all of us would do.” Skyla glared at him as if daring him to make a comment.
“Of course. And probably even before. I would have been terrified if I was suddenly trapped aboard a vessel without food or water or—”
“Move!” Marcus growled. “Two more, I said!”
Kamau scampered away apologetically as the next humans were brought in.
He lingered in the hall, eyes swallowing every detail.
The second being was an older Queen, maybe forty or fifty from his limited knowledge of humans. He could not see her features properly with the oxygen mask over her face, but her blonde hair was swirled with gray, and her figure looked soft and gently curved under a simple pink sheath dress.
Dax and Ardol pushed the final cot, holding a very small form—a form so small that he wasn’t sure if it was a Queen or a child. She had smooth black hair, like Elio’s, with a glossy sheen that even hypersleep couldn’t steal. There was not an ounce of pink in her skin, and her almond-shaped eyes made her thin cheekbones look even more fragile. Her hair glistened like a Pantherite’s dense black fur, but her skin was so pale she almost looked like an ancient Earth photo, the ones done in black and white.
She needs to be fed. “Is she... Are they?”
“We don’t oxygenate corpses,” Ardol laughed, but there was a shakiness in his voice. “Rupex thinks they were being sent against their will, trafficked, like all the women on Lynx-Nineteen. Like Jade. And Layla.” He swallowed several times, his broad, spotted shoulders suddenly drooping.
“Well!” Dax smiled, bright blue eyes full of hope. “That worked out well for all of those women. Maybe it’ll work out okay for these guys, too!”
“Queens,” Kamau corrected absently, mind full of the brave warrior at rest in the first quarantine bay, with her thick, full lips, broad planes that lifted to cheeks that would surely learn to smile again when she woke up and realized she had survived.
He hoped. He wanted to make her smile.
“SHE MADE IT PAST THE first twelve hours. She coughed up so much fluid. If I hadn’t been with her with the anti-aspiration mask ready, she would have choked to death.”
“The others are starting to come around. I checked the original data that I could pull from the craft. They wouldn’t have hit the Pantherite Provinces for two more weeks. This one would certainly have been dead.”
“We should call her Nessa, like it says on her badge. She can probably hear us.”
Nessa’s eyelids were sewn shut. Pinned down. Something made it impossible to open them and see the owners of the two voices speaking by her head.
“Well, the other two have nothing on them, no identification, no personal computers, nothing!” The female voice sounded furious. “I feel so terrible that I can’t even call them by a name—and I shudder to think what would have happened if the Felids they were sent to weren’t the kind we met on Lynx-Nineteen!”
The other voice was soothing, male, and deep—deeper than any human voice she’d ever heard. Her tangled brain began to make hazy pictures, but there was no context. No sight. Her thoughts were dark and sour with unfamiliar smells butting in and demanding to be identified—but the surface she laid on was so soft. She tried to stretch her aching muscles and found her body wouldn’t obey.
“The hypersleep was supposed to go on for a good bit longer. We’re waking them in a gentle, gradual fashion. By tomorrow evening, I imagine they’ll be awake and able to talk, just groggy and disoriented. You need to get some rest, Layla. Kamau said he’d be by after supper. You stay with your cubs and let him do a bit of nursing.”
“But he’s got a full-time job already, just keeping all the mouths fed on the Comet Stalker ,” the lighter, higher female voice protested.
“It doesn’t fill the void like a family.”
“Oh, Marcus. I’m sorry. Surely he knows that we think of all of you like family! The whole crew is like family to us!”
“I know, and that’s a blessing in this time and place. But still—let the fellow have his way. My paws are full with these three cosmic drifters, and trying to regulate vitals after accidental ejection from hypersleep is something I haven’t had to do since I was a resource doctor at Bastet Mercy—thirty years ago.”
Nessa lost herself in a whirl of words that sounded scary and unfamiliar. Hypersleep? Aspiration? Bastet Mercy?
Eff this.
Her brain shut back down.
LIGHTS.
Spots.
Golden, glinting lights. Dark black spots.
Am I in heaven?
Or did I get food poisoning? Don’t people see spots in their vision when they—
Hey, I can open my eyes!
But I can’t see a damn thing, apparently.
“Now, Wendy says if you don’t have balm applied to your skin, it will become dry and flaky, and this is a thing that many Queens with dark skin experience. Jade says all Queens must ‘moisturize,’ and I told her Felid Queens do not have this trouble except with the pads of their paws. So, Wendy has given me some of the balm we got on Lynx-Nineteen. Ardol and Jade are going to open a shop next year that’ll sell all sorts of clothes and imports from the Sapien System. Ardol’ll handle all the shipping—he’s our freight coordinator. I guess we’ll be needing a new one when he and Jade settle down on Lynx-Nineteen. You might like it there—on Lynx-Nineteen, I mean. There are lots of Felid-human couples there. Well... Twelve. But that’s more than there is anywhere else in the galaxy, as far as I know.”
Nessa felt her lips twitching upward and her skin tingled as something smooth and buttery was rubbed over her hands and forearms.
I’m sick. I’m in a hospital with a nurse with a motormouth... and I like it. He has some epic bedside manner.
Nessa had been talked over and about—not to. Not until now. That much she knew.
She just wished she could recall how she got here.
“Are your eyes opening?” The voice beside her quivered with excitement. “Oh! They are! My Queen! My Queen, you should— I mean, Miss Nessa, you should remain calm. Don’t try to move much. Just rest and lie still. Can you talk?”
Her mouth didn’t feel so dry anymore.
Wait, why was my mouth dry to begin with?
Words jammed in her brain, too many questions to ask at once. Muscles jammed in her throat and jaw—too weak, too tired, but no longer terribly painful and dry.
“No,” she croaked, aware of the irony, and that made her smile.
The warm, comfortable haze vanished. The being above her smiled, too—revealing a wide mouth with fangs and sharp teeth, and cat-like-humanoid features.
“I am Kamau, the chef of the Comet Stalker . You are our honored guest. I have been assigned to take care of you.”
Nessa felt her newly regained vision go black. The chef with big teeth is my nurse?
That ain’t right.
I hope I’m not on the menu!
Then she passed out again.