“Nyx! Get up to the deck, ya lazy piece o’ shunk! Cap’n’s got a job fer ya!” A rough voice called.

  Nyx groaned as she woke fitfully from her nightmare, faces fading as she muttered, “Oyx… Tyx… I’m sorry…” The dream quickly fades, replaced by irritation, “Goddum shunk, wakin’ me up again…” She then yells, “Comin’!”

  Another one of those dreams. Dreams of things she wants to forget.

  There’s a loud bang, and pain shoots through her head, and her ears fold back as pain shoots through her forehead and sparks shoot through her vision.

  She’s bumped her head yet again, It was the same exposed crossbeam she kept forgetting was there. The same thing she always did when someone woke her up early and they’d come out of FTL so they had gravity again, “Sparks! Goddum it!”

  She hit the crossbeam with her fist a few times for good measure, then took her helmet off of its hook and clipped it to her suit. Finally, she took her tool belt and strapped it around her waist, where it looked comically large on her petite body.

  Nyx heard laughter from a few other crewmates echoing down the hallway as she rubbed her forehead, “What’cha morons laughin’ at! Get yer dick stuck in that flow pipe again?”

  She gave them the middle finger as she hissed and puffed her tail.

  “Jus’ laughin’ at the dead Felis walkin’!” It was Hal, a scrawny and fairly ugly man with most of his teeth missing. He wore a spacesuit almost as dirty and tattered as hers, and she could smell the fermented cleaner on his breath.

  Her tail drooped. The captain had another special job for her.

  Nyx ignored the jeers from Hal and the others and looked around the hallway. Cluttered and rank as usual with most of the inner bulkhead torn off to use for repairs elsewhere. Sleeping harnesses like hers hooked to various support structures, with an odd crewmember sleeping in them.

  When she turned to the ladder heading ‘up’, which was now at her feet, she felt a slight disorientation from the strangeness of having it in the wrong place.

  They’d docked already. She knows this because she’s standing on what would normally be a wall under normal thrust. The station spun to simulate gravity instead, so instead of their feet pointing toward the engines; they pointed outwards from the station. She also felt lighter than when the engines were at speed.

  Nyx spit on the floor, “Goddum it!” Which meant the captain had a job that was off ship for her.

  She hated gravity and wished she could use the only things she was good for, her cat-like reflexes and small size to move around quickly. She was still fast under gravity, but felt much more limited.

  She walked to what should normally be the upper deck.

  “‘Bout goddum time ya made it up here ya lazy Felis!”

  Nyx turned to see the captain staring at one of the ship’s last operational computer terminals, a greedy grin on his face revealing rows of broken and rotten teeth. For his age, it was actually quite a lot.

  The captain was taller, as he had grown up in a time when food wasn’t so scarce and stood above the rest of the crew in a way that intimidated everyone but the most hardened of them. His suit fit him well, unlike the baggy one that hung comically off of her small body. His dark beard was long and streaked with grey, as was the tangled mass of unwashed, greasy and unkempt hair on his head.

  Next to him was a shorter man, the first mate and the one who had woken her up. He was younger than she was, but not by much. His hair was dark like his father’s and just as unkempt and greasy, though without the grey. His suit, like his father’s, was in good condition. He had a smirk on his face, which turned to a sneer when he saw Nyx.

  To the captain’s left was a large woman with a cruel face framed by long, dark locks. A woman who was easily the most well-fed member of the crew. The captain’s wife. Nyx was jealous as she looked at the woman. At how no bones stuck out of her skin. Her prominent chest, unlike Nyx’s flat one. Her round face with cheeks that weren’t sunken. No black rings under her eyes from being forced to work long hours just to keep the ship from falling apart.

  The only other person in the room was a deaf half-Felis man whose name she still didn’t know and refused to call him by the nickname the crew called him, and had given him her own, Wrench. Nyx’s only friend on the crew and the one who taught her how to fix the ship, hence her nickname for him.

  Wrench’s half-formed Felis ears on the top of his head, and half-formed human ears at the side always drew attention. He had dark blonde hair, darker than Nyx’s own, and a stubby tail half as long as Nyx’s own very fluffy one. His face, worn from years of abuse, contorted into a wince as a jagged piece of metal cut into his bare forearms, which would only add to the many other scars on his forearms. This caused Nyx to scratch her own forearms, where she had many of her own. There was a fading bruise on his left cheek.

  Nyx’s stomach growled at the thought of food and hoped the captain would let her eat before going on the mission.

  “Cap’n. Ya callin’ me up ta this deck?” Nyx stepped forward, doing her best to keep her ears from betraying her genuine emotions.

  The captain turned, a cruel smile forming on his lips, “Get ‘ere, ya piece o’ shunk Felis. I got a gig fer ya.”

  The captain’s son stepped forward and roughly shoved Nyx towards the console.

  The captain’s wife wrinkled her nose as the cat girl came close, “Filthy Felis.” She says the word ‘Felis’ as if talking about a floating piece of excrement that were common when the ship wasn’t under thrust.

  It took Nyx some effort to hold back her anger. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t get enough water to towel herself off.

  Nyx turned to the screen and her jaw dropped, forgetting her anger, “Mya… Is that…”

  The son grinned, his terrible breath assaulting Nyx’s sensitive nose, “It be a pre fall long range explorer. Not fallin’ apart. Never Dyin’ captain to boot.”

  The captain nodded, “Thought they all ran or scrapped. Jus’ came in. Prolly ta talk ta Trevor and Helene. Ya know how Never Dyin’ keep ta themselves. Too good for us dyin’.” The captain turned to Nyx, “Get in there while they be busy chattin’ and break it up some after it goes from Trevor’s protectin’. We come and steal it right from ‘em. Sell the Never Dyin’ ta Trevor for extra.”

  Nyx now understood why the crew called her ‘dead Felis walking’. She was about to object, but memories of past times she’d talked back and he’d beaten her to near death flashed through her memory, “Oh… Yes Cap’n...”

  The captain’s wife laughed, “Ya do this, filthy Felis, we might let’chya try some real meat.”

  Nyx knew that if she did, they’d be rich. At least the captain and his family would be, even though she was doing the work.

  As she looked at the ship, trying to keep calm and not let her temper or hunger at the thought of trying meat for the first time get the best of her, she noticed how pristine it was. Even as it moved to dock, she could see several small robots leaving a maintenance hatch and a cargo bay open.

  The ship was long. Very long, like a spike moving through the void of space. The rear had large fusion engines about the same size as those on the Az Gaper, sending plumes of hot gas behind the ship to slow it for docking. Near the engines there was not much to see from this distance, but she knew the fuel tanks would be there and likely took up more room than the engines. Past this, she saw several blisters on the hull and a large door. The Gaper’s pods had laser turrets, a rail gun, and a grappler, so maybe this ship had them too? Next was another long section that had nothing other than an airlock. This would be the living and cargo space. Finally, she saw the fore section of the ship. As with most ships, many antennas and dishes jutted from here. Sensors, the FTL casters, and magnetic shields. It also had dark matte paint or something running down one side that contrasted with the shiny metal on the rest of it.

  “On it, Cap’n Brown Beard.” Nyx almost cringed as she said the name. “We know where it’s gonna be hookin’ up?”

  “One.”

  The son sneered.

  Nyx gulped, “That bein’ where Trevor’s friends be goin’.”

  This meant extra security and doors to get through.”

  The captain’s wife smiled a sweet smile laced with poison, “Now get goin’ before yer stink makes me faint.”

  Nyx felt her tail puff up from anger and fear despite her best efforts, and her ears folded back. Thankfully, her tail was in her suit so they couldn’t see her fur puffing in anger, “Goin’ now.”

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  Nyx fled as fast as she could to the cargo deck where the Gaper had docked.

  “Goddum it!” She knew that normally they’d punish her for her outbursts after meeting the captain, but if she succeeded, they’d be too happy to care, and if she didn’t, she’d likely never come back. She was also missing breakfast, and she barely had enough to eat as is as her stomach so kindly reminded her as she left the bridge.

  She growled at another crewmate as he used an elevator to unload the goods stolen from their last catch and release, “Go dunk in shunk.”

  “Get Earthed, Felis! Glad the Cap’n’s finally gettin’ ya gone!”

  Nyx flipped him off and hissed, “Get the cap’n’s meat pipe up yer az! Hope he gives ya the green!”

  The cat girl stormed out the airlock using the ladder, climbing over another crewmember, “Goddum it!”

  She slapped a loose piece of metal for good measure and watched it bounce down the docking arm, almost hitting a crewmember below, who swore at her in return.

  Nyx unhooked her helmet from where it hung off her back and put it on her head as she reached the top of the ladder. The helmet was of human standards, so it crushed her ears uncomfortably. She’d also had to move the internal speakers so she could hear. As much as she hated her helmet, she loathed leaving the ship fully exposed.

  Once out of the airlock, she looked around. She could barely read enough to do her job, but it was enough to find their docking number.

  Six.

  Of course, Trevor docked the Az Gaper as far away from the spire entrance as he could. She’d have to go around the habitat ring, then into the central spire.

  “Goddum it…”

  Around her were a few dockworkers looking through the Az Gaper’s latest haul from their latest catch and release. They weren’t Trevor’s men as he didn’t deal with pirated goods himself. How nice of him to look the other way.

  Past them, she entered the slums. It was a long hallway where people with nowhere else to go lived with only makeshift tents for privacy. She briefly considered leaving the Az Gaper for good or at least finding food when she noticed the stares and whispers.

  “Sparks!” She’d forgotten about her tail. No way could she hide the poorly sewn tail portion of her suit, even if she wanted to, as having it pressed inside her suit for hours on end hurt a lot. Add to it the fact that the material she’d used was clear and so her fur was visible didn’t help either.

  Whispers of “Felis? I wish they would all die already. Filthy mod creatures.” Or, “Think the Cap’n keeps her as his bed whore?” A reply, “Hopein’ not. Don’t need no ugly no hearin’ half Felis.”

  One man even spat at her feet.

  “Dum pieces ‘o shunk,” Nyx said as she hurried by, thankful her helmet made it harder for people to hear her talk with the microphone off.

  Once past the slum, Nyx stopped.

  The floor here turned to glass, and Nyx saw her favorite sight among the stars. The reason why Trevor and Helene held so much power.

  Through the glass floor were rows and rows of greens and other colors. Plants.

  Nyx found the sight to be the only beauty left in the black. The rows of life-giving plants that fed thousands. The last source of food for the dregs of humanity left after Earth got Earthed.

  Oh, how she wanted to go there and take in the smell. How did plants smell? Good? Maybe the stale smell of the Nufuud packs Trevor processed the plants into?

  She caught herself drooling, then shook her head to clear her thoughts as she noticed a few slummers looking at her and continued her walk.

  She watched as more water than she’d ever seen on the Az Gaper poured onto the plants here and there as robots with many legs tended to them.

  She licked her dry lips as her stomach growled, “Dum it…”

  All the more reason for her to finish this job as fast as she could.

  Next came the hard part, and why the captain sent her on these jobs. Her small size made it possible for her to fit into the drone maintenance hatches.

  Nyx came to Dock 3, the nearest to the entrance to the spire where Docks One and Two were. These were off limits to slummers and visiting crew as the spires were where most of the station’s most sensitive machines were, so it made sense to her.

  Nyx stared at the door sealing off the passageway to the central spire and Dock One. She then glanced at the camera in the corner watching the door. If she tried to rewire the door to open it, the security systems would trigger as soon as she popped open a panel. So she backtracked.

  Soon she found a toilet room. Before entering, she scanned the hallway for maintenance hatches or piping.

  As she entered the bathroom, her nose wrinkled in disgust as the foul smell came through her helmet’s open air vents, tempting her to switch to internal oxygen. It, like the one on the Az Gaper, was foul. Trevor maintained them, but she guessed people stole one too many cleaning bots if they stayed like this.

  She looked around and saw that the room was compact, with a single toilet and a hand-washing station.

  She then used the toilet as her body reminded her she had yet to go today. As she did her business, she scanned the room and used her memory of the maintenance shafts and piping in the hallway to guess where things might be on the other side of the metal. She also recalled the station’s decking. As it spun, ‘down’ led outwards and ‘up’ inwards. Below her were the plants. What was that place called again? A hi doro paw… something?

  Above would be the open space between the ring of the station and the spire. She couldn’t leave the station from here as the cameras or a drone would spot her but…

  She finished her business and climbed onto the toilet.

  She growled, “Sparks…” She was much too short to reach the ceiling.

  Hopping off the toilet, she knelt on the grimy floor, thankful for her suit and gloves, though dreading washing later.

  She tapped on the floor and got a hollow response. Next, she pulled a small cutting torch from her pouch. The fuel was full thanks to her habit of filling it before bed.

  She gulped and started purring to calm her nerves, hoping that the station wouldn’t notice her poking holes in it.

  A quick use of the cutting torch later, and Nyx peered down the hole she’d made, shining her helmet’s torch into the hole. No alarms yet, and she only saw a small pipe below with the space she’d hoped for that repair drones often used to move throughout the station.

  She pulled off her helmet, then put her ear to the hole, listening for drones. When she didn’t hear any, she replaced her helmet and turned her cutting torch back on.

  As soon as the piece of flooring just big enough for her fell, she slipped inside.

  She barely fit into the drone space below. She liked it in these small spaces. No crew to curse at her. No one kicked her or spat on her because she was a Felis. Just her and the pipes and wires.

  After orienting herself, she slowly scooted her way through the space, her torch the only light. It was silent. No skittering of drone legs or slummers walking overhead.

  Slowly, slowly she made her way until she reached an open shaft.

  The lift to the spire.

  Here, there was actually a ladder, which she climbed onto after making sure the lift wasn’t moving and began making her way down.

  As she ‘ascended’ she felt herself getting lighter and lighter as she neared the spire until she was almost weightless. She launched herself to the top before reorienting herself and entering another maintenance shaft to take her to Dock One.

  Nearing the dock, she stopped and stared curiously at an insulated pipe. It was the liquid hydrogen line for refueling ships as they stayed in port. The ship was a massive long-range survey ship. Shouldn’t it need lots of fuel? From what she could tell by the lack of frost buildup, it hadn’t refueled at all. With tanks as big as she assumed a long-range ship had, and likely came from a great distance, it should have needed to refill enough to at least ice up the piping.

  Nyx shrugged. Maybe the captain still hadn’t worked out the payment for the fuel?

  She followed the piping until it passed through the bulkhead. Her way out was next to it. A small airlock for drones. She was definitely going to trip an alarm here if she wasn’t careful. Thankfully, she worked as a pirate, and pirates had ways of getting past alarms.

  Nyx opened a pocket on her suit and pulled out the most valuable item the captain allowed her to have. A fooler. Scuff marks covered the tiny computer from years of abuse, but it still worked perfectly.

  Nyx took out wire strippers after popping open the airlock’s control panel and found the wire on the airlock that led to the alarm and stripped a patch of insulation from it. Next, she took the two wires from the fooler, and clamped them to the alarm wire. Once she did this, the fooler activated. Finally, she took her wire cutters and waited for the fooler to do whatever it was it did, and cut the alarm wire once the light on the fooler turned green.

  Nyx held her breath and waited for an alarm to sound. When none did, at least that she noticed, she took out a flathead screwdriver and fiddled with the wires inside until the inner airlock opened.

  Inside the airlock, she closed her helmet’s air vents and turned on her oxygen supply after making sure her air was full by checking a gauge on her wrist. She’d have to leave the fooler behind, but if she succeeded she’d have one of the last pristine ships in existence. If not, she’d be in a cage for who knows how long, and the captain wouldn’t care to get her out. Probably say she’d done this on her own to avoid blame.

  Nyx opened the control panel on this side of the door and closed the inner door. She then vented the air from the airlock and opened the outer door.

  A sense of vertigo hit her as the vastness of space filled her vision. The planet La La Land dominated the view below, its clouds of blue roiling angrily under the dim glow of the red star in the distance.

  She noted that the fueling arm hadn’t attached to the explorer, though the walkway was. The cargo hold was also still open, and several drones pulled a container of some kind out of an airlock below her towards the ship.

  Nyx purred at her luck, her ears attempting to perk up in the cramped helmet. The walkway would have cameras, as would the drone, but if she timed it right and stayed out of sight of the drones, she might get inside the cargo bay without being seen if she used the cargo as a shield. And she’d get into the ship’s cargo hold to boot.

  So, despite her vertigo, she leapt out of the airlock just as the cargo passed underneath. With just a few puffs of her suit’s jets, she made it. Once the ship’s hull blocked the station, she jetted away from the cargo before the drones moved position to redirect themselves into the hold. She then entered the ship and hid behind some sort of machine and waited and purred at her success.

  As she sat back and watched drones bring in more supplies, she realized she was moving, and upon checking her suit she realized her flimsy tail addition had a leak, which she promptly fixed with some gel made for fixing leaks from her toolkit.

  Checking her wrist for remaining air, she noticed it still read full.

  “Goddum it, Hal!” She recalled Hal, the man that had jeered at her earlier when she’d hit her head after waking up. It hadn’t been the first time he or others had messed with her stuff while she slept. “Piece ‘o shunk! Sparks! Dum it! I hope the cap’n puts his meat pipe up your az! I’m fixin’ to knock yer rotten teeth out an’ shove ‘em down yer throat!”

  She was about to head back to the station when the last of the drones left the cargo hold and the doors started closing.

  She’d get caught if she left now.

  Instead, she turned to the airlock door leading into the ship. She wouldn’t need her air if she could get inside. “Sparkin’ Hal…” she hissed and got to work.

  This is my first work in a few years and I'm happy to be back! Shout out to Hidingfromyou. Without your support and those on your Discord I wouldn't have gotten back into writing.

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