The two crates almost filled the small cockpit behind the airlock. "Sorry, where could I store them?"

The cat turned, her impressive teeth still bared. His hair stood up on his back. Then she closed her snout and went back to looking as normal as a humanoid cat could look. "Are these fragile?" Despite the sharp teeth and the predator's muzzle, she spoke softly and timidly.

"No, spices, the most fragile are the crates."

She showed her teeth again. Maybe that was a kind of smile?

"Here, this is all the hold there is." She opened a larger panel behind the two seats and put the crates inside, using only one hand. The hold was not much bigger than his cabin on Blackbeard, or Silent Samul to be correct, so it was filled with the boxes and his bag.

"You wanted to go fast?" she asked again, "We can be there in 0120, but then I have to charge you another, er, 150. This is all fuel, honestly, I can show you the consumption on arrival."

"You're burning 630 on fuel for an intrasystem jump? What runs this thing?"

"Xenon, the most compact fuel for a plasma drive."

"Xenon... " was a rare noble gas, but that was all he knew.

"So?"

"Ok, I would like to see that," He could charge this as well on his contract.

"Please buckle up." She moved a strange white thing with a tube under the seat.

"What's that?"

"Strap-on toilet for long jumps," she replied, baring her teeth again.

He would have felt better if she had said nothing. His fault for asking.

The cat tapped buttons and sliders on screens to activate the systems, and there were even manual switches.

"Why don't you ask the AI?"

"Eh, no AI, only assistant systems. And some of them are even useless because the restoration is not finished yet. Ok, the fusion core is already over 10%. Are you ready?"

He was not. A ship without AI. He could not see this ending well. "You've jumped in this before?"

"Yes. To Fallerian IV, and then here. And more test jumps for certification."

His relief was still limited. But it was fascinating. Like watching a native tribe building a fire without tools. He could guess what she was doing but he would be lost in the details. Well, that was what a ship's AI was for.

"Flight control for White Ocelot, request line course to exit window B for jump in 0035."

"White Ocelot, that is impossible."

"Flight Control, would high-stakes my docking fee?" the cat asked in Fallerian.

With a clunk they were weightless. "You have your high-stakes contract. Double docking fee next time too for White Ocelot if you fail. Here is the contract hash."

"Confirmed."

"Wow, I never undocked that fast before. A bit expensive, but I'll remember that. What are you doing?"

She was furiously working the screens with one hand, while with the other she was controlling the thrusters with a stick. They banked hard. Then she switched to the stick on the other side which apparently controlled the pitch and roll. "Ramp up, stupid pump," she muttered, limited by the fusion core as she hit that screen. Despite this, they accelerated and turned under full manual control to get onto their flight path. The fusion core screen flashed angrily orange with a rhythmic sound.

She looked at him. "Strapped in?"

He nodded. It was the first thing he did after the sudden release of the clamps.

She abruptly cut the thrust and braked hard, he hung in his belts. Some metal screeched angrily but the second large bar on the fusion control panel jumped down and instead of flashing there was just a yellow frame around the panel.

"Finally," she muttered as she yanked the ship around hard with the manoeuvring thrusters, probably pulling close to 0.8 g. "You're not getting my money!"

By now, he would be perfectly happy to pay for the contract. He was sweating despite the cold cockpit, feeling even colder after waiting so long at the warm station.

As soon as they were on course, she unbuckled. Under the tilted 0.7 g acceleration, she removed a panel above her chair containing three large manual switches, the kind the hero has to turn to foil the villain's plans in the dramas. She turned the rightmost one, which made a solid thud. Nothing happened, he breathed again. Next, she grabbed the stick with her right paw and made a few course corrections while her left hold to a handle and her fingers danced over three large side screens and the fusion core controls, which turned orange again. It was an impressive display, the massive muscular cat being that nimble.

"Good," she commented to a screen, then turned to him, "We'll use main engines 2 and 3. Since 1 is not working, I can only operate 3 at about 20% because of the asymmetric thrust. Let's see how much that will give us." And buckled in again.

Not that her explanation filled him with much confidence. So far, he had always let the AIs handle an asymmetric thrust and correct the 4D course. He watched, half fascinated and half frightened, as she manipulated screens, adjusted some manual dials and flicked various switches dangling from open panels on her cables. She was following a list from her pad, but it looked like she was taking various shortcuts. He wondered how she could get all these sequences right.

"Cluster-Klabauter-Cloth, standby."

There was a murmur in the background. Another screen woke up, a very large one in front of them. With a g-scale of up to 6!

"You said you had no AI?"

She bared her teeth again. "No AI, the White Ocelot flies under natural intelligence. Just a codeword activated assistant." And after a short pause, "Cluster-Klabauter-Cloth, 3 limited to 20%, 2 ramping up to 105%."

The soft murmur became angry. An alarm sounded, or perhaps just a normal warning. The fusion core screen turned orange again. She was not worried, hitting sliders and buttons on screens. Vibrations built up. Their thrust had already exceeded 1.4 g, twice the surface gravity of Fallerian.

On the navigation screen, the most familiar of the screens, he could see that they were 1/3 of the way to the jump window, with half the time left. It seemed hopeless.

"Ok, two is on now." She showed her fangs again.

There was a jolt as if they had been hit in the back. But it remained a constant kick. He looked at the navigation, 1.7 g and accelerating fast. He had never accelerated so fast in 3D, that ship must be insanely powerful. The noise in the back was now like an over-revving motor, and it was getting louder. The ship was vibrating, everything was rattling. The fusion panel had turned blue after reaching 90% power.

He was drenched in cold sweat and it felt like a second person was sitting on him from the acceleration. Like the re-entry with Blackbeard.

The cat was still working the screens and controls, while he was barely able to lift his arm off the armrest. No wonder she was so muscular. She seemed to enjoy the wild ride, baring her teeth from time to time.

2.5 g was passed on the navigation screen. By now the vibrations were so strong that he could barely read the numbers. His field of vision on the navigation screen narrowed under the brutal acceleration and kicking vibrations. Now the huge numbers and status bars made sense. With the rattling and angry humming cacophony around him, he almost missed the countdown to the jump warning.

"Do you need a patch?" she shouted.

"No, fine," he lied. Next time, he would ask for one before take-off. But wrong, he will never fly in such a ship again.

2.8 g was the last time he could read the gauge before the room collapsed and the noise became unbearably loud and accumulated. The screens and panels formed a flickering hypercube, many, many facets at impossible angles.

And then they were back in 3D, and the infernal noise of the ship felt almost like silence after 4D.

"Cluster-Klabauter-Cloth, stand by."

Within moments, the vibrations and rattling ceased. His ears still rang.

The weightlessness only lasted for a tenth of a second until she had found her bearings and was pushing the ship around hard. He was glad that his last meal had been soup, and that it had been 2000 ago.

But now she was going no faster than 0.5 g. After the rattling high-g jump, her manoeuvres felt smooth and soft.

"Crazy fun, huh?" she laughed, showing her teeth again.

He nodded weakly. He had never understood why everyone called cats crazy. But this cat was crazy. "White Ocelot for Fallerian III flight control, questioning under a docking port with xenon tubes." Her pronunciation was good, but the words made little sense. She should have used Standard.

"White Ocelot, you are not announced. Leave the reception window as fast as possible and then prepare for a waiting Hohmann transfer."

"Confirmed." The thrust pushed him back into his seat. But it stayed below 0.8 g, maybe that was the limit of the control thrusters.

"Fallerian VII should have announced us," he stated the obvious.

"I think we overjumped the intersystem slot reservation message, even with the 0029.7 run-up. It only travels at light speed.” She closed her eyes for a second, “Oh yes, they should get it in 0005."

"Please, can you show less teeth?"

She closed her snout abruptly. "Sorry," she said, again in the timid soft voice from when he first entered the ship.

"Let me negotiate with the station. This is my home."

"You're from here? All right and please, make it cheap." She closed her mouth again after baring her teeth for a split instant.

Now he smiled to acknowledge her efforts. "Ok, how to operate? Ah, I see." There was a communication screen with large speak and mute buttons and some smaller ones for selecting the recipient.

* * *

The station was not happy that someone had overjumped an intrasystem jump reservation. It was dangerous, someone else could have used that slot. The intrasystem windows were small and close to the stations because the arrivals were controlled. While Fallerian III would have liked to fine them for reckless jumping, they had clearance to the Fallerian III entrance window and had been pushed hard by the controller on Fallerian VII. Fallerian VII should never have given them clearance for departure without waiting until at least 0040 to make sure the slot reservation had gone through. If they punished them, they would also have to punish the flight controller on Fallerian VII. In the end, he got them off with a symbolic fine.

"The fine is down to 50 for deviating too much from the indicated flight path. Bah."

"Thanks, I would have simply paid," she said.

"It's still not fair. I know AIs that stray more than you. Actually, the Silent Samul was horrible at keeping a flight path. You handle the ship well."

She showed her teeth before hiding them again. "You're a pilot too. What class?"

"Oh, I think with the jumps and after re-entry I could upgrade to class E. It has been a busy two years."

"Oh," her face was hard to read, "I'm just a real C now. This is my third trip." She stared at him intensely. "Would you like to try? Here you can use your sticks now, left stick is z left-right, the thrust is front-back, right stick is rolling in the direction of the stick. Rotate the stick will rotate around the main axis. And autohold is on: Whatever vector you change to, the ship will hold it as soon as you release the stick. Now take her."

Hesitantly, he put his hands around the sticks at the end of the armrests. They were thick and solid and would not move with a little force. He tried rolling to the left, a push and they tilted quickly but stopped abruptly by the automatic counter-thrust as he returned to neutral. The ship was very manoeuvrable. Too much for him, even Blackbeard had not been that manoeuvrable in the atmosphere.

After a few more stomach-shaking attempts, he took his hands off the sticks. "Thanks, I only flew bigger ships with AIs. It makes you stay on course even more impressive. "

She showed her teeth again for a moment, then closed her snout again and sighed.

"Perhaps I should handle the station communications and you fly? Your Fallerian pronunciation wasn't bad, but" he bit his tongue. There was no nice way to end that sentence.

"Yes, please." Even without her smile, he could hear that she was relieved.

With the fine out of the way, the docking port was next. It took a longer exchange again. He feared that the White Ocelot would be added to the list of ships to be handled extra correctly, as the only place to get xenon was an inspection port at the shipyard. It was free to dock there to refuel, and he was also free to disembark, as he was a registered resident of Fallerian III.

"Ok, we have a new course clearance. Our docking port is at the shipyard near the nadir, there is the only UDA facility with xenon. Docking is free but xenon is rare, sold to units of Jerrotz. Human units, er." He took out his pad. "A cubic metre costs about 350."

Her ears pricked up and she showed her healthy teeth again. "Really, that cheap? I'll fill her to the brim." And then she closed her snout again, "Sorry."

"Don't worry, it's just that I'm not used to seeing teeth. I mean, Fallerians don't have any, and Lalleli doesn't show her teeth."

Apart from her snout, only the ears on her head seem to move to show emotion. Now they lay rather low again. "Who is Lalleli. A cat?"

"Not," he almost laughed, "a Preon, four strong legs, a tail and fur and then a human upper body. Mostly human."

"Oh!" Her ears stood up again. "You are a nice companion in the cockpit."

"Thank you. I am not being used to be in the cockpit with someone else. I always fly solo."

"Isn't that lonely?"

"Sometimes, but that depends a lot on the AI. I have met some very nice ones."

"Nice AIs?" Her head tilted further in his direction.

"Yes, the last good one was Simon. He was really good, he knew all the tricks."

"He? Tricks?" She spoke very slurred.

"Hey, are you all right? We're drifting off course!"

She jumped up, head straight again. "Damn," she muttered, "mind over matter."

* * *

The cat kept them exactly on course. For the rest of the flight, she concentrated on the screens and glanced out the window, but never once looked in his direction or spoke to him. She seemed stressed, even though the approach was easy. And she was no longer smiling, her tongue was hanging out and she was panting.

Finally, the entire station's nadir filled their view. They slowly approached the only docking adaptor that could supply xenon. She did a few final adjustments and they connected with a metallic clang, almost weightless. She worked the screens again to shut down and prepare for refuelling. This time she went exactly down the checklist on her pad.

He unbuckled his harness and floated up, rubbing his back.

"Ouch, my back. With the vibrations from the main drive, some fur would be nice."

She mumbled something.

" Pardon?"

"You'd need even thicker fur than I do. And my tail is worse off."

He had no idea. But Lalleli had a tail too, so his interest was piqued. "What's it like with a tail?"

Her fingers stopped their slow dance on the screens. She shivered, then unbuckled and turned around, holding on to the side of the seat to keep from floating away. And then she pushed her rear, tail up, towards his face. "Ah, go, touch it," she said again in a slurred voice.

He was very confused. Her tail was only a handspan away from his face, reminding him of Lalleli at the 0 g toilet. Hesitantly he touched the tail. It was thicker and softer than Lalleli's. The tail felt good. Even though it was a little sweaty. She began to purr and moan. Obviously, she was no longer taking care of the ship.

He worried and let go of the tail. "Hey, come on, give me your wallet and you get the 630. I have to go." It took him a moment to figure out the latch and the cargo panel swung open. He had the boxes and the bag halfway out when she grabbed him from behind with force and started rubbing her body against his back. Next, she wrapped her legs and arms around him from behind, again with great force. He screamed she had bitten his left earlobe, and he was bleeding.

That brought her to her senses. She pushed herself to the far corner where she held on to the armrest and shivered. "Sorry. Leave! Crazy cat! Leave, crazy cat now!" She did sound like a crazy cat.

He was confused, she looked so bad, shivering, chewing on a finger and looking around widely. Half of him wanted to help her, but older instincts told him to run away from the predator. He grabbed his luggage, which had drifted into the cramped cockpit. Luckily, it had not yet damaged any screens. Swinging the bag's strap around his neck, he tore the crates towards the airlock and went through as soon as it opened, a last glance back to the shivering cat behind her chair.

The access tunnel was short. There was a second hatch that opened easily. No one was on the other side, just an empty wide round tunnel with lots of ropes along its sides. He floated at the entrance for a moment to get his bearings. There was a lift nearby at one end of the tube, so he used the ropes to get him there. Next to the lift were flexible nets to secure things. He placed the crates and his bag under the nets and hooked his feet into the ropes.

It took him a few moments to calm his racing pulse and slow his breathing. What had just happened? She had been so confident and suddenly so different. Was she really crazy and had she had a breakdown? But then she would never have got a licence, would she?

He took out his pad, he still wanted to pay. They had a contract, even if it was only verbal. He could not just walk away like that. But they had not yet exchanged addresses. After a moment he returned to the docking port. But the ship's hatch was closed. And no reaction. He really started to worry.

So he went back to his things, took out his pad and called flight control to send a message to the White Ocelot. Which was quickly received, but not answered.