Star Kitten (15 page)

Subsequently, many Prides found it wise to
develop the naturally instinctive empathic tendencies of their more
attractive female members; and this gradually grew over the
millennia into the establishment of Empath Academies. The training
at those schools was thorough, and females were brought in at age
15 or 16 to begin their tutelage. In this way, every local Pride
had an ongoing supply of young desirable empathic females that
could be mated to any rival Chieftain, business leader, visiting
dignitary, or even as a lure to a skilled athlete to hopefully come
play for their local sports team!

There was only one catch. By age 18, if they
were not mated with another male, Empathic females were merely
“released” from the programs. That was the official term for it:
RELEASE. No shame in it really. It just went that way sometimes,
for some female trainees. The goal of each Academy in every Pride
all over planet Pumalar, was to present an Empathic female to a
male (of whatever species) right at the very “blossoming” of their
sexuality: right when their body was most appealing and healthy,
and long before they began experiencing the futility, cynicism, and
cold realities of adulthood. Those released from the program merely
re-entered society and just went on with their lives.

Many of those rejected Empaths, became
concubines in lower class Pumalar harems. Some even became
successful business owners, mothers, or public servants. But that
was rare. More often than not, those “released” from the Empath
Academy program ended up having very tragic lives.

And that’s precisely what Felina was
determined to avoid. She had awakened to a new day, having been
denied the opportunity she’d been dreaming of for several years…
only to have her hopes dashed. She had to come to grips with it.
She had to accept her failure, and find a new path for her life.
And she certainly had most every reason to believe things would
turn out well for her. She was smarter than most… beautiful,
strong, athletic, and highly skilled at the erotic arts. She’d
studied not only about the cultures and customs of every planet’s
species, but she’d also learned of their physical characteristics
and tendencies when it came to lovemaking or experiencing sexual
pleasure.

She’d learned anatomy, learned techniques,
learned pressure points and erogenous zones for five different
species. No matter who she was partnered with for lovemaking, she
could in all likelihood anticipate anything her lover might want or
need, before he could even speak the words. Basically, just as fast
as any male being could think it… Felina would already be making it
happen for him.

And that’s when it
occurred to her! EARTH!!!! That’s where she needed to go! Pumalar
Empaths were insanely popular on Earth. Everyone knew that; and
she’d heard it long ago, when she was just a kitten. Wealthy
Earthmen went absolutely
crazy
for them; and female Pumalars were said to be
able to command an amazing lifestyle in the mega cities of Earth
working in the “entertainment” industry, as they called it
there.

On Pumalar there was no equivalent to what
Earthmen considered to be prostitution. There was no equivalent to
a brothel or even a gentlemen’s cabaret. There were no strippers
either, of course. Pumalars didn’t wear clothing anyway. They were
covered in fur from head to toe, and if the climate changed or
required it, they simply grew a thicker coat. Their coats protected
their underlying hide, and on the female, the fangs were far less
pronounced than on a male, so they could do most anything in the
bedroom that a female human could do. A female Pumalar’s genitalia
and reproductive organs were essentially the same as that of any
human female too. Everything was in just about the same general
location, so the act of lovemaking between male humans and female
Pumalars was not only quite comfortable to perform, it was
incredibly exotic for the man.

Empathic female Pumalars were something that
common Earthmen had never experienced until just the last few
decades. They were a fur-covered living fantasy creature come to
life, right there in the man’s bed. Insatiable, attractive,
desirable, intuitive, exotic and instinctive… an Empath could do
absolutely ANYTHING a man desired, without him even needing to
describe it. Just think it, and the Empath could do it.

Not just that either. An Empath like Felina
could adapt completely to the human male’s personality and
demeanor. The great allure of an Empath was just that aspect of
their talents. If the man liked to be the life of the party, the
empathic Pumalar female would be the hot girlfriend by his side
whooping it up with the other boys and men in the bar, yet only
interested in “her man”. If the man was studious and intellectual,
she’d be the cool and bookish type who could sit and discuss
literature or current events. If the man was the sports nut or
hunter-type; she’d be the weekend warrior attending ballgames or
slogging through the forest tracking game. Whatever he was, she
would simply match up with it perfectly, creating for him the most
perfect mate he could possibly imagine.

All she needed to do was find a way to raise
the money necessary to afford the ticket to get there; plus maybe a
few “months’ worth of rent” (as Earthers called it). After all she
couldn’t just arrive on Earth several months later completely
broke. She’d need to make some money… a lot of money actually…
before she could even make that trip.

But how
? Just how could an 18 year old Pumalar female—only just
yesterday released from Empath Academy—come up with the several
thousand Galactic dollars necessary for a cross-galaxy journey to
Earth to start a new life… in a very short period of time, no
less?

Felina watched the end of
the commercial on the video monitor about the new Intergalactic
adult pleasure resort called Star Pussy.
They were hiring
, it
said!

It gave her an idea….

Though Warden Ggggaaah may very well have
underestimated the Rebels right from the start, it was more than
anything else due to his own sense of arrogance and pride; rather
than mere bad information from his subordinates or poor judgment
within his chain of command. It wasn’t their fault at all. His
staff had regularly reported back to him all the information about
the progress made by the rebels. And Ggggaaah had always known
about the technological adaptations the prisoners had devised to
survive down in the mines. He knew about Slartigifijians being used
by various gangs as Engineers to repair and service machinery. He
knew how they had used Acetylene torches to cut into the walls,
ceilings and floors of the Food Depots and Guard Stations.

He knew when they’d
overrun the Service Tunnel that the only means of escaping the
planet was the Earth Cruiser
Unity.
And that ship was quickly captured by the Rebels
as it prepared to take off. At every stage, right from the initial
outbreak of hostilities, his subordinates were keeping Ggggaaah
thoroughly informed of the situation below.

The capture of the first three Guard
Stations, the securing of the elevators, the clearly sophisticated
military organization of the rebel forces, the technology they
seemed to be using... all of this was reported right back to the
Warden constantly. For that matter, a lot of what the rebels were
doing, he could literally witness first hand from the command
bubble at the top of the cavern. But he just refused to believe the
Rebels could really pull it all off.

To Ggggaaah, it just didn't make sense that
mere prisoners working in a mine could come up with so many
solutions, overcome such formidable obstacles, and for that matter
actually unify the entire planetary prison's assorted rival gangs
long enough to stage an organized revolt. Ggggaaah kept deluding
himself into thinking that the rebels would come apart once they
began to starve, once they began to strangle in the thin air, or
when they started to run out of clean drinking water.

Above all, Ggggaaah
assumed once the final rebel attack began and the prisoners started
taking appalling casualties, that their morale would break and
they'd scatter like frightened mice. For weeks, he watched the
rebels piling up ore extract and dirt. Wondered at first just how
crazy they must truly be, thinking that they could construct a ramp
like that. And then when the ramp was nearly done, he STILL scoffed
at the rebels' audacity, ordering the command bubble to ready
itself for a counterattack when the ramp got high enough for troops
to fire down on them. Technically the counterattack was a disaster
for the rebels—they took nearly a thousand casualties in the
battle. But once again, Ggggaaah couldn't fully grasp the
determination of his enemy. A thousand casualties meant
nothing
to
them.

He had superior firepower, plenty of
well-supplied troops, and besides all that he just KNEW that the
Interplanetary Authority would fly to his aid, if their highly
profitable mining operation was seriously threatened. Then again,
he never even expected to seek their help in the first place. He
just assumed they'd rush to save him, if it really actually finally
ever came to that.

Yet, every one of his assumptions failed.
When he turned off the electricity below, he thought that would
stop them. After all, how could they see in the dark, or coordinate
a planet-wide rebellion, without electric lighting? How could they
operate their water filtration systems either, and replenish their
drinkable water supply? When he ordered all the guard stations and
food depots sealed off, he figured that would stop the rebels too.
The guards, he assumed, would fight desperately to hold off the
rebelling prisoners if they knew their lives depended on it. And
once the rebels began to starve, he just knew the revolt would
fizzle out.

Instead, his guards (in his view) actually
betrayed him. They surrendered depot after depot to the rebels
within only a few days of the beginning of hostilities. The
commanders at those different guard stations just figured they'd
been cut off from central command anyway and they might as well
seek terms from the rebels. So in a matter of days, the Rebels were
in control of all the Food Depots, each stocked with food that the
Rebels desperately needed to continue the revolt.

Even when the rioting
prisoners made it into the Service Tunnel and began slaughtering
Security Troops—troops armed with advanced weapons and trained at
riot control—Ggggaaah refused to believe he should order an
evacuation. When rebel prisoners slaughtered unarmed Mining
Engineers, and even the crew of the Earth Cruiser
Unity
, Ggggaaah showed
little compassion—merely ordered the air system cut off to the
tunnel, and smugly observed, "S-sssee how long they can last with
thin air...." And yet, the Rebels just kept battling on. They built
the ramp, they organized into military assault units for the
attack, they armed themselves with captured weapons, and then they
surprised everyone by actually blowing a massive hole in the wall
of the terminal.

By then it was far too late to start taking
them seriously of course, as they poured troops through the breach.
It was also far too late by then to request any kind of massive
rescue effort from the Interplanetary Authority! Up until then,
Ggggaaah had been sending reports to his superiors claiming that
the prison riot was a “minor uprising” and his forces had it
“mostly contained.”

His final few hours in command were spent
holed up in his own private office at the very top of the main
terminal facility, looking out at the barren planet surface and the
striking desert landscape. From his office which was a small bubble
sitting atop this massive glass dome; he could look out at the
acres and acres of solar panels which charged his generators and
gave almost infinite electrical power to the main terminal.

Vaguely hearing the fighting going on
downstairs; he focused his view on the sky while his staff sent out
distress calls to any passing space ships who might land and rescue
the beleaguered garrison. Meanwhile... the massacre of his troops,
his employees, and his staff was soon going on literally right
outside his door (as well as throughout the entire headquarters
complex which was almost five square miles in size). Watching the
sky through his tinted windows wondering what options he had left,
he deluded himself into thinking help would soon arrive. But none
came.

He'd assumed so many things in the past
thirty Earth days that just didn't materialize. And as the last
elite unit of his troops protecting his stronghold was butchered,
Ggggaaah became paralyzed with the confusion of a person who simply
can't believe his own fate... can't believe everything is going to
end soon... and can't believe it's all going to end like this. Yet,
his arrogance and delusion continued right up until the very end,
many would say later.

When the rebels finally burst into his
command center office, he arrogantly sat and glared at them coolly,
holding a ceremonial Zorgolong dagger with one hand while he
manipulated the tip with his other hand's long lizard-like fingers.
It almost unnerved the rebels who captured him. How could he just
sit there so calmly amidst all the killing and death going on all
around? It was like he knew something they didn't yet know; or he
was expecting something to happen that no one was yet aware of.

"Yield or fight!" was the challenge yelled
out by the Pumalar warrior who first entered the office. And yet
amazingly, all the Warden did was simply lay the dagger down on the
desk he was sitting at, and slide it across toward the Pumalar. The
now-captured Warden just clasped his hands and awaited the
Pumalar's next move, with a cold blank look on his face. Ggggaaah
finally just hissed, "I yield." The Pumalars in that raiding party
who'd made it finally to his office wondered why he didn't just
fight them... and die honorably! What could Ggggaaah have been
anticipating? Was he expecting them to ransom him to the
Interplanetary Authority? Was he STILL actually expecting relief to
arrive? If so, he was sadly mistaken on both accounts....