Real Cats Don't Wear Boots, a Fantasy fanfic

Real Cats Don’t Wear Boots

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Chapter 1

Humans are an odd species; Earth humans doubly so. They tend to take things they don’t understand and classify them as “magic.” Take me, for example. By all appearances, I look like a slightly larger than usual, brown and white spotted Earth cat. However, Earth cats do not speak the same language as humans. They rarely wear clothing, unless forced upon a hapless cat by a juvenile human. Earth cats absolutely, positively do not wear boots.

Since I prefer to wear clothing and boots, and I am rather fluent in the language of Earth humans, I am quite definitely not an earth cat. Unfortunately I was stranded on this backwater, uneducated world that labels anything beyond their realm of understanding as “magic.”

Perhaps I should start at the beginning.

My official designation is “PU-55,” the “PU” being an abbreviation for “police unit.” I am one of a special group of Felorans trained to protect our sector of the universe from marauders. Normally we stay close to our sector; however, I was on the trail of a vicious, destructive being known as Ogarius.

Ogarius reportedly could change his physical appearance to mimic others. Recently he was outed masquerading for the Grand High Mercutio of Maldor. His appearance and mannerisms fooled everyone. Everyone, that is, except the Feloran bodyguards assigned the Grand High Mercutio on his visit to the Moons of Vinturia. We Felorans have a highly acute sense of smell, and we never forget a scent.

I had the luck of attending the real Grand High Mercutio on two previous occasions. This time I noticed something different. At first he had an almost unbearable perfumed odor – so intense that it clogged my sinuses. After an antihistamine injection to clear my nose, I started to notice something. The real scent under the cologne did not belong to the Grand High Mercutio that I knew.

After alerting my superiors and the other bodyguards, we formulated a plan to out the imposter. It would have worked, if an impetuous human member of the bodyguard hadn’t been so eager to make a name for himself. Ogarius discovered our plans and fled, a contingent of police units in pursuit. Our ships were fast, but the one Ogarius stole was equally speedy. He also had about an hour’s lead on us.

With a few detours and a bit of creative driving on my part, I had Ogarius’ ship in visual range. “PU-55,” my commander’s voice sounded over my communicator. “PU-55, you are approaching the borders of the sector.”

“I have Ogarius’ ship in my sites, Sir.”

“Cease your pursuit.”

“Sir?” I asked in surprise.

“Ogarious is entering a sector of space out of our jurisdiction. Cease your pursuit and return to base.”

My ears laid back in disgust and anger. I was closer to apprehending Ogarious than anyone had been for a long time. There was no way I would give up.

“Sir?” I gurgled and hissed, mimicking static. “Your last… hiss breaking… crackle not received… crackle gurgle hiss transmission… hiss .”

Before my superior could say anything further, I slapped the button that shut down my communicator. Now I was alone.

Was it hours I chased Ogarius, or days? After a while I couldn’t tell. My whole being focused on the hunt. I rarely slept, grabbing brief “catnaps” in my command seat. The reflection of my face on the view screen was not a pretty sight. Emergency rations helped keep my hunger pangs to a minimum.

Back at base HQ, our bulletin board didn’t have a picture of Ogarius. No one knew what he really looked like. In fact, we only assumed Ogarius was male because almost of the beings he masqueraded as were male (the others were genderless). All we had was a series of items with Ogarius’ scent. All police units with enhanced smell were expected to memorize his scent. As I kept trying to get within firing range of his ship, I made myself recall every nuance of his smell. If I lost visual contact, it would be the only way I might be able to identify him.

Eventually we entered a solar system not on any of my systems. I passed a frozen, uninhabited world, a couple of planet-sized balls of gas that were devoid of life, a ringed planet, and an enormous planet surrounded by satellites before I chanced on what could be a bit of good fortune – an asteroid belt. Ogarius’ ship, while fast, didn’t have the maneuverability that mine did. By the time we reached the edge of the asteroid belt, I had closed the distance, enough for him to be in firing range. My sensors detected an uninhabited planet on my starboard. If I could force Ogarius to land, his capture should be simple.

I armed my ship’s weapon systems and fired. Three rounds of laser blasts later, it appeared as if Ogarius’ ship had taken little damage. Soon we were out of range of the reddish brown planet and its two moons. I muttered a few expletives and hoped the next world would also be uninhabited.

Unfortunately I was not as lucky. The next planet, a blue-green world, appeared highly populated. Its moon, however, was devoid of life. If I miscalculated, Ogarius could land on the planet and hide amongst any of the native species. I had to make sure that either I completely destroyed his ship or I forced him down to the moon.

Growling to myself, I realized my high powered ammunition hadn’t been replenished by the supply department. “Blasted budget cutbacks!” I exclaimed as I slapped my paw down on the console. Since lasers barely managed to scratch Ogarius’ ship, I was counting on my nuclear torpedoes to take him down. Normally police ships carried 20 rounds; I had two. There wouldn’t be any second chances.

As I waited for my targeting system to lock on Ogarius’ ship, my paw hovered over the fire button. My tail lashed in agitation; my whiskers quivered. Perspiration soaked my fur. I thought that my systems had locked on to my opponent – I slapped my paw down on the button… a fraction of a second too early. One torpedo completely missed. The other swerved, then caught one of Ogarius’ ship’s rocket boosters.

I held my breath and watched as Ogarius’ ship spiraled out of control. My jaw dropped; instead of crashing towards the moon like I hoped, the ship headed towards the inhabited planet.

“NO! No no no!” I shouted as I pounded my paws on the control panel. In my blind rage, I never heard the alarm – I never saw the comet that struck my ship, sending me plummeting planet-ward.

TBC

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