The friendly alien face with two slit pupils and white bangs filled his vision. "Marik, we just came out." She had his used patch between the claw-like nails protruding from the fingers of her left hand.

They were weightless, the noise of the main engines gone. He took a deep breath. Her nice smell of sweet bread was so much better than the stench of his sweaty T-shirt and the smell of old, hot electronics from the ships. He stretched as much as he could while strapped into the 4D harness of the copilot's acceleration couch. As usual, every muscle in his body complained at the sudden call to action after having been sedated for the last two and a half days by the patch.

"Oh, you can show teeth too." And she opened her mouth to yawn, showing off her impressive canines and the equally impressive rest of her enamel. It was the first yawn he had experienced that was not contagious but rather helped him to wake up. Only now did he realise that she was hovering directly above him, no longer buckled in. She licked his eyes with her hot, rough tongue.

"I'm awake, I'm awake," he shouted, reaching for her neck fur, warm and soft, probably the thickest fur on her body and tore her off his face. She easily countered, moved closer, closing her eyes and resting her muzzle on his shoulder. "The srysrtermr isr ermrtyr," she spoke with a purr. "Ar lirtre orf curdlirng?"

He grinned as wide as he could and nodded as her hands quickly opened the buckles of the 4D harness.

Cuddling in weightlessness however resulted in constantly tumbling around the cockpit and bumping into things whenever a hand, paw, foot or even her tail accidentally touched something. It was no fun, too many sharp edges or delicate things prevented them from getting into the mood. Having established that cuddling required some gravity, they accelerated at 0.1 g.

And as much fun as it was, he wished for a larger ship, with cabins and a real mattress, and not wedged behind the pilots' seats and their legs in the tiny cargo hold. And a shower would be nice, too. As long as he had his nose buried in her soft fur, his stench was filtered out. He could only imagine how much worse it would be for her, with her enhanced sense of smell.

"Rerra," he whispered, "thank you for accepting the partner contract." He hugged her tighter, not least because the cool air of the cockpit blew down his back.

As if she knew, she put her big furry hands on his lower back. Her fur was so nice. Why didn’t humans have fur?

She whispered back. "Partner contract means more than business partners?"

He lifted his head to try to see her eyes. "You didn't know? And still you."

She laughed. "Ha! Of course, my little human. I am still your crazy cat. Is this about forming a new tribe?"

"Normally, a partner contract is for hatching, raising youngling, you know." Blood rushed to his head. "But no, I did, I mean, that we."

She lifted him as high as the small clearing above allowed, so they could look directly into each other's eyes. "I could bear your child, my father was human, too." She smiled and nuzzled him. "But only if I want to. And our contract is only for 16 days, which is a bit short to raise a tribe."

"You shortened it."

"And you were desperate. Ah, you are so cute, my tiny human partner."

She hugged him with force. He could not breathe, and if she hugged him any harder, his bones would crack. But she realised his discomfort and relaxed, her ears lying flat. "Sorry," she whispered and breathed accidentally into his ears.

His bones ached, but he grinned, goosebumps running over his back. He played with the barely finger-long fur under his hand. He lost himself in her fur, it was so soft. But underneath, apart from her breasts, she was nothing but muscle and bone. After a long time, he whispered, still unsure using Standard, "Rerra, I could cuddle you forever."

"Yes, more cuddling while we wait." She winked. "I had sent a data dump to the planet; of course, the station should receive it too. I hope to get a data dump back from either of them. We will know soon, in about 1000 or so."

* * *

The ping of the communication console announced the arrival of a data dump. Rerra jumped up and turned to the screen where she was sitting, as naked as a furry cat could be.

He looked longingly at her tail which moved aimlessly while she was scrolling through the screen. He sighed; no cuddles soon. Instead of her soft embrace, he would have to buckle up in the much less inviting co-pilot's acceleration couch.

His stomach growled. He took a pressed bug bar from his bag and chewed. "You want one too?"

Her ears rotated back to him, but she just shook her head a little. She was still completely absorbed in the data dump from the planet, scanning for news and messages.

He certainly wished for good news for her. Since he had nothing to do, he turned to the navigation screen. But there was not much there either, a small K-star with a narrow, barely habitable zone occupied by the lone planet with a smaller object orbiting it, the station. There were no ID marks, not even on the station. Were it not for the three actively transmitting reentry beacons, they might as well be in an uncolonised system. Such emptiness was not normal. Here, like in any system, must have been many asteroids in the past. Most likely they had been swept up to enlarge the planet thousands, or rather millions of years ago by a now long-forgotten civilisation, a reoccurring theme.

He called up more data from the database. The planet was bigger and heavier than he thought, almost 1.1 g on the surface. Despite that a thin atmosphere, nearly half of that of Fallerian, and average temperatures not much above the local freezing point. Given the small star, he should have expected this. Even though, the planet was at the innermost Roche boundary, where a planet is just not torn apart by the tidal forces of the star. A year was only 14 days, and the planet rotated faster than a standard day, so the local 10000 was about 20% shorter. That was manageable. The tilt axis was 15 degrees, which, with the short time of a year, meant that there was no real summer or winter. It looked to him as if whoever had started terraforming this planet in ancient times had given up long before they had finished. So this was the world of the cats, and that explained her preference for the cold cockpit.

"Any good news?"

She finally turned to him, tail and ears drooping. "No news from the station. Very few messages from some friends from the beginning. Seems that the connection to the station broke shortly after I jumped out. Oh." She looked down and put on her T-shirt as she continued. "It's more waiting. I sent a private message to Yakka and Fanny, they should be down on the planet. But it's night near the spaceport."

"So where do we go?"

"No change, to the station."

He wanted to be more useful. So he suggested the obvious. "How about a jump to the vicinity and then bleed off speed by microjumping in the planet’s wake."

She sighed. "Ok, one jump and then we break with the main engines again. This ship only has a single coil. I don't want to break it with microjumps when we have power to spare."

He noted the 'we' with satisfaction. Less for the rest of the comment. "Another round of 2 g?"

The cat grinned. "More like 3 g with the repaired engines."

The ship was really like Rerra, he sighed mentally, both elegant and powerful, and probably his death. "Sorry, I am just a soft human and afraid of bursting my internal organs. Keep it at 2 g please."

Rerra showed her toothy smile and he smiled back, baring his teeth. Rerra's grin widened. "You need better canines. I take it you don't want to do the high g's yourself?"

"Have fun," he said and wiggled deeper into the acceleration couch.

"Ok, jump in 0045," she announced, "Cluster-Klabauter-Cloth, standby."

Cold sweat was already forming on his forehead as the whining noise started in the back when the xenon pumps revved up.

* * *

The pressure on his chest was less, which was why his senses returned. The main engines still roared and crackled. He looked at the big screen below the windows. The bar indicating thrust only filled the left quarter, but the numbers still read 1.7 g.

"We've jumped," shouted the cat, "I'm just bleeding our delta v."

That was certainly one way of putting it. He had to convince her to trade her ship for a normal freighter, with a decent cabin and a less crazy power-to-weight ratio. One that could be flown without being an oversized bodybuilder. A very attractive one, though. Just flying with her should put him into a better shape than he had ever been. Now, it was still an effort to breathe.

"Finished."

The acceleration stopped so abruptly that his body bent forward into the 4D harness, propelled by his strained muscles. The noise of the pumps went deeper as they spun down.

She turned the ship around. Only a slight lateral acceleration component remained. Slight? They were still decelerating at 0.5 g which would be considered full power on many ships.

"Hey, what!" he called out. Just as he had relaxed a little, a large structure appeared in front of the windows, much too close.

"The radiator, we follow it to the hub."

There was the thick main pole, from which the large flat radiator panels branched off at right angles. There was another row of radiator panels rushing past the windows.

He held his hand up to the window to confirm the reading. "These radiators are cold."

"Not completely, but yes, they couldn't be running much more than a few emergency cores. And there was no communication beyond the autonomous beacons."

That was bad. But the edges of the panels were still facing the sun. So the positioning was working. A countdown appeared on the navigation screen.

"Only gentle deceleration from now on. Get into your suit, because I'm pretty sure that we have to spacewalk in."

"And you?"

"I'll get into mine too. You go first."

He unbuckled, took out the sealed bundle and stepped into the cold thinsuit. At least the thinsuit had its autonomous life support, including temperature control. He switched on the heating as soon as the zipper was closed. The warmth of the suit was appreciated. Not as nice as Rerra, he chuckled at the thought. Still better than the chilly cockpit.

"Take the sticks while I change."

He hurried back into the seat as she had already handed over the controls. The radiators raced overhead like giant rails, and then, for a moment it was just the support pole until the next array fanned out again. But without active course corrections, their distance grew. The station rotated, turning the radiators away from them and had made the control transfer safe. Now seated, he corrected and soon they were approaching the station again along the radiator pole, slowing down as the hub came closer.

He did not peek at Rerra, concentrating on the approach. Even though he had seen her naked, the changing of clothes was alluring, not just the undressing. Now that he understood more about his human urges.

As soon as Rerra was in her suit and seated again, she retook control and braked hard, pushing them into their harnesses. They almost touched the station. A cloud of vapour in space told of the sorry state of the rotating pipe seals for the radiator pole.

"Welcome to Hopkins II Station," a full feline predator smile, deliberately.

He just sighed.

Her happiness had a second reason. "The shipyard airlock is still open. So we get in easy."

As with everything with Rerra, easy was it only for her. Rerra steered them even closer until they almost scratched the station. But it was not far when the still open airlock of the shipyard appeared. The airlock was much wider than the small White Ocelot and here he agreed on easy. Rerra set them down and then slowly reduced the thrust. Her calls to the shipyard went unanswered, her codes did nothing. So there were no clamps to engage, the ship was held to the ground only by the tiny forces of the station's rotation.

"Nice ship."

Both heads turned. A green-haired woman in a fishnet top and green shorts smiled and hovered slowly over Rerra's head. The spikes of the leather collar just centimetres away from Rerra's ears.

Oh no, what was she doing here? "Jerka!" he whispered.

She smiled at him. "My little human has grown quite a bit." And then she turned to Rerra with more grace and elegance than even the cat. "So you are the cat who stole Marik," she said, still smiling. A predator's smile, despite her human appearance. "You have excellent taste. And a nice ship, too."

The short fur on Rerra had puffed out. "How did you enter my ship?" Only then the cat had registered his whispering. "You are Jerka?"

Marik shrank in his harness. "No," he whispered.

Both females looked at him.

Jerka turned back to Rerra. "Sorry, I missed your name." And she still had the most threatening smile he had ever seen.

The big eyes and flattened ears showed Rerra was terrified. "Rerra," she swallowed, "from Petra."

"Nice to meet you." She dialled her smile down to an almost friendly regime. "Jerka," she said in the simplest voice, "Kibandera, Jump Rider."

Rerra's muzzle moved, probably silently repeating Jump Rider. Then she threw her head back and bared her furry throat. "I am yours," she said, her whiskers twitching.

"Oh, come on, you have met the Kolani. Don't look so surprised, it's pretty obvious. No one else does eyes like that."

"The eyes," she said, her fur still puffed. But she put her head down again.

His interest was piqued. He had never heard of the Kolani. But above all, Jerka had no business here. He fumbled with his last buckle.

Jerka was still looking at Rerra. "You are also one of the younger cats who ever piloted a jump. Well done, you too."

Jerka turned her head. "It seems I am underdressed, judging by my present company." She looked at him, this time with the friendly face he remembered. "Have fun, and," she turned back and locked eyes with Rerra, "if he gets hurt, I'll find you." And then she disappeared with a silent plop.

They both sat for some time in their for some time. Finally, he unbuckled and was able to lift himself from the seat with minimal effort. He did a somersault and looked at her.

She was still strapped into the pilot's seat.

"Shouldn't we be going?"

Her ears turned first, then her big eyes, her muzzle moved and finally her head locked on him. "After her"

"What?"

"Maybe stay here," she repeated so low he barely heard it.

"No, we go together. We made a partner contract. I won't chicken out at the first occasion. Jerka can go wherever." He floated over to Rerra, ruffled her white head hair and petted her sensitive ears. "Rerra, I have a contract with you, not Jerka. Forget her. And I bought the guns, we will be safe." He picked up his helmet. "Come, let's help your clan!"

Eventually, she sighed and unbuckled all four buckles with a single hand while grabbing her helmet with the other. "Let's go." She still did not sound sure.