A short story of one officer’s last battle and the aftermath.

“The galaxy is a very unfriendly place.” I was remembering what my number one drill instructor, sergeant Crabs had said on my first day of basic training. You know what? He knew just what he was talking about. I have learned that the hard way over the last 10 years. You see I am Major Mike Miller, Sardonic space defense forces. And this is the story of my death. Well for all that is practical it was my death and then again in a way it would be my new beginning as well.

It was currently locked in battle with a Catamaral space fighter. As both of our fighters performed yet another high gee-move in hopes of bringing the other’s fighter into our rail guns sights. Missiles would have been simpler, but there was an extreme shortage of them in this war of attrition. We have been at war with this cat-like race for 12 years now and we humans are losing that war.

As with most wars, there is a reason for this one. Just do not expect it to be a good one. Wars of expansion never are good reasons to fight. Neither side is wrong; then again neither side is completely right. I know that is an odd thing to say. So, let me enlighten you a little.

The Catamaral breed in litters of up to 9 kittens each. Thus, they need more and more space to live in. They do not believe in limiting their mating, it is something to do with their religion. When the race of man first met the Catamaral, it was on friendly terms. It was discovered that both races were about the same size and same technology level. Neither had an advantage over the other. It did not take long for trade to equalize that even more.

We traded with them openly and fairly. Well, there were abuses on both sides when it came to trade. Then again, both sides had different values, but both sides benefited from the exchanges equally. In their own way that is.

At first, the Catamaral seemed happy with the arrangements. Well, maybe it was the cat-like smile that was always plastered on their face. Then one day they could no longer expand in their section of the spiral arm. And mankind was spread across the base of easy access. They could have just had free passage through our lines. It was not like they had not become a valued ally. Then again “one man’s ally is another man’s enemy.” Another quote from a famous human. I just cannot remember his name.

Well, I was on deep patrol when the Catamaral carrier entered the system. I had found myself locked in combat with 3 fighters before I could even get a warning off to Sardonic HQ. That was not as much a surprise as the new missiles, they had fired at me. If they were willing to waste three on a patrol fighter. That meant they were here to take over the planet. Their one real advantage was that they breed like rabbits. The offspring could then take us on one on one. They could replace their population faster than mankind could. However, surprise always helped in a battle. The longer HQ was unaware of the coming attack, the less response could be mounted in its defense.

The missiles were high-tech things, but they never stood a chance against the firepower of the rail guns. I have been blasting them out of space for almost 20 years. None have ever gotten close. Fact is, I am really one of the best pilots out there. Soon with the missiles gone the three made their move on me.

They preferred an enveloping approach, 3 against one usually meant that they won. However, it was always the same move. It was predictable, and I had gotten good at predicting where each ship would be at different intervals. So, when two Catamaral fighters were blasted into space dust before they could even fire on me. Well, it must have been a shock to the survivor. Because he hesitated long enough for me to get the warning off to HQ.

Then the dogfight began. It consisted of high gee maneuvers that left both pilots incapacitated for a few seconds. The one that came out of it first had time to finish the other off. Fighters moved too fast for what used to be called eyeball kills. Well, that was the conventional wisdom. I had taken out a few Catamaral fighters that way, very few that is. However, normally it was when the other pilot was still out for a moment or two, unable to maneuver that you got your kill. This was no exception. Unfortunately, the cat was waking a moment before I was.

I had taken some damage to the port stabilizer and this meant my high gee turns would be more severe. To hell with it, I kicked my fighter at the carrier. As soon as I lined up, I let loose the rail guns. The cat was soon on my tail but reluctant to fire. He would be hitting his own ship with the 1mm high-density projectiles. It was bad enough I was getting so many shots off. Not that I expected to do much more than kill a few cats. The only way for a fighter to take out a carrier is with an antimatter torpedo. Those were in short supply as well. Well, technically you could do so if you suicide into their engine compartment. Then again, it only worked sometimes. Besides, I had a different trick up my sleeve now. I kicked the attitude control and inverted my fighter 180 degrees. There before me still trying to figure out what was going on was my pursuer. I depressed the rail guns’ firing trigger and that was all she wrote for the Catamaral fighter. Too bad the carrier was now free to fire at me. Unlike fighters, the carrier had beam weapons. Although the skin of my fighter would reflect away 99 percent of the energy. I had damage to my port stabilizer. So as my fighter was bathed in beam energy, the port side erupted. My fighter went spinning out of control as it vented control fluids out into space.

I yanked at the jettison lever to no avail. The escape pod failed to fire. It was a slim chance anyways. The Catamaral used human escape pods for target practice. Still, it was better than waiting for the fighter to explode. Its containment field around the small vial of antimatter would fail as the power failed. It was not much, only about 1 gram, less what I had already burned up. It would only be a small explosion, about 10 kilotons. Well, at least it would be quick when it came.

My fighter continued to tumble as I saw glimpses of the Catamaral carrier move towards my planet. I thought of the girls there that would die soon. Such a waste of life and for what?

Jenny the cute little blond with green eyes down at the equator beach resort. She was one wild ride. I remember our first night in bed. The girl had the most gifted mouth that has ever been on my manhood. She could suck start a fusion engine with that mouth of hers. God! the first time I came from her administration? Well, let us just say she sucked me dry. Then after a bit, I returned the favor and fucked her little brains out for over an hour. Insta-hard is a wonder pill for sex. It would keep you hard for two hours, and let you have your way with any woman. It was great, because when the woman begged you to stop. You could lay coupled for an hour or more after.

Then there was Stacy, the redhead. She was from start port central and had the tightest cunt in the fleet. When I say tight, I mean tight. You almost needed the frictionless lube the maintenance guys use. I say almost because if you ever tried it, you would hardly feel a thing fucking. Then again, she was so tight; I do not think it would matter in her case. Well, that one I would have lived with if we could have gotten along anywhere else other than in the bedroom. She was hell on wheels, otherwise. She was one of those bi-girls that liked women as well. One time, she hooked up with me and a girl named Careen at the same time. It was my first three-way. All I can say is that I was not disappointed. Stacy and Careen left me worn out before they turned their attention to each other. I just lay there watching them. After watching the pair duel with each other’s twats for a bit, I did not even need to use instant hard, and was hard from just the view alone. We spent three days together after that. It only ended because I had to go out on patrol.

Then there was Amy the brunette. God! what a loving woman. She used to do this thing with her toes. My god! I get hard just remembering her and her feet.

I was angry thinking about what would happen to them. How they would be subject to bombardment followed by the hunt. The Catamaral were true carnivores, and the hunt, well, let us just say you did not stand a chance if you were unarmed. Even then, they liked to eat their kills. At least the heart that is. Anyway, the more I thought about it, the angrier I got. I slammed my fist on the box. That is the main CPU system inside the fighter. It needed to be as well protected as the pilot. So, it was placed inside with the pilot. There was a brief flicker of light as it adjusted from the impact. I had hit it three times after all. It became apparent a moment later that the system was rebooting. As it went through its restart routine, the attitude jets fired. Now just because they are there does not mean the pilot can access them manually. They are backup units that only the CPU can use.