Werecats in Outer Space: Book 1 Discovery

By Joe Kirby

Werecats and Humans and Werewolves in outer space. Intrigue, danger, suspense, espionage, romance. The Proctor of the Werecats wants the throne. Captain Annabelle Pretty wants to find the evidence to clear her and her crew of pirates of the charges of espionage and treason. Young Kropf wants to finally complete his Journey so that he can follow in his father's footsteps. Will any of them succeed?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9781665519670

Joe Kirby

Joe Kirby is an Evangelist who is involved in open air outreach and producing Gospel videos for his YouTube Channel Off the Kirb Ministries. He is married to Emma, and they have a little boy, Samuel. They live in Lancashire, England.  

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© 2021 Joe Kirby. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue

in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Published by AuthorHouse  03/17/2021

ISBN: 978-1-6655-1969-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-1968-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-1967-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2021905204

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in

this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views

expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the

views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Epilogue

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CHAPTER 1

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IT WAS A DARK, DARK Night. The stars were shining brightly in the distance. One of three moons was cresting over the edge of the planet below the ship. The ship was long and had a narrow curve at the bow, flaring out to the sides, tapering back down to form a narrow waist in the center, flaring back out to form the aft end, which housed fifteen ion engines into circles like connecting rings with two zipdrive engines sitting in the center of the engine rings.

Along both her starboard and port sides she boasted laser turret arrays with four lasers each, and twenty-seven turrets going forward to aft, and in between each turret was a bank of three projectile ports. There were two domes on each, the port and starboard side, just forward and aft of the narrow midsection, that were her shield pods. When activated the shields would overlap each other in that narrow center section, giving it quadruple the protection of the most vulnerable part of the ship, the large main hangar bay.

The ship in its entirety was about half a mile long, but sleek. Her surface was covered with various sensor pods about three feet in diameter, pointing in all different directions, and she had remote sensor pods, four of them, flying in intricate patterns around the ship, going out about a distance of one mile scanning up to three parsecs to take readings of the surrounding area and briefly flying back toward the ship, just to change direction and fly to another point in space. On the bridge of the ship Baghera all seems normal and calm. This was about the change.

Captain Annabelle Pretty sat in her command chair, checking out the view on the main screen when, all of a sudden, proximity alarms started going off. Tell me what’s going on, Mr. Ricks, she said as she walked over to the sensor station just forward and left of her chair. It was a console that was rectangular in shape, measuring approximately three feet from left to right and 1.5 feet from top to bottom. It had a myriad of switches and keypads to the foremost right-hand side of the console and a lever and a few switches on the left-hand side of the console and a touchscreen in the center of the console. Sitting at the console was a stocky man, approximately 5'8" tall and weighing about 230 pounds. He had violet eyes and a thick mane of ginger hair.

Mr. Ricks turned to his captain. It appears that an unknown ship has dropped out of nowhere to a half-klick off the port bow, Captain.

Captain Pretty said, Put it on the viewscreen.

There, in all its wonder and mystery, appeared a ship like none any of them had seen before. It was huge and blocky with very little curvature to it at all running about half a mile in length and 1/8 of a mile in height. It had what looked to be multiple gun turrets along its starboard side and ports spaced in between the guns where projectiles might be launched. On its aft end, there was some sort of logo that looked like a bird of prey holding a javelin of some sort, as well as some sort of plant life, and it was in a myriad of colors. Next to it was some sort of script or description. Possibly the name of the ship itself and at the end of the name was a globe covered in blue and green and brown.

Scan the ship, she said. Communications, send out a hail on all frequencies. She turned to the helmsman. Plot a course out of here, Mr. Silva, but hold her station until I give the word.

At the other console, just forward and to the right of the captain’s chair, sat at a young man approximately 6’ tall, weighing just shy of 180 pounds. He had a short mane of black hair and brown skin, with golden eyes. His muscles were tight, and you could see in his expression that he was extremely excited about the events taking place. Practically still a kid, having just graduated from Officers’ School three weeks ago. This was his first assigned duty.

As Mr. Silva’s hands flew across the console, he replied Aye, aye, Captain. The console was similar to the sensor console, except, instead of levels of alertness on the lever on the left-hand side, it had the levels of speed listed to the side of the lever on the left-hand side of his console. He, too, had a touchscreen in the center of his console and a few key pad buttons to the right. With the touchscreen, he could change course automatically by selecting the ship and then selecting a different point on the screen, depicting their surrounding area, and the ship would automatically move in that direction, whether it be turning about or changing its course heading.

Mr. Ricks turned to the captain. We’re being scanned, and it seems like there are smaller ships, possibly fighters being deployed from the unknown ship.

Captain Pretty started pacing back and forth. She turned to tactical. "Ready all fighters but only launch Tooth squadron. She turned to the communication station again. Send a message to Gata Royal Space Navy Command. Inform them that we have discovered an unknown ship with unknown intentions and a possible First Contact situation has arisen. We are initiating First Contact protocols. Request special envoy at this location as soon as possible. Send coordinates. Also, contact Lieutenant Snow in Tooth squadron. Inform him that he is to hold a screening position until further ordered."

She walked over to the science station. Mr. Nemowitz, tell me everything you can about the ship out there. Any speculations as to its capabilities?

Mr. Nemowitz sat there looking at his screens, at the scan results of the other ship. He stood almost 6'2 tall with dark skin, violet eyes, and an almost pure white mane of hair with two gold stripes going from the front, all the way back on either side of his widow’s peak. He had broad shoulders and well-defined muscles but was, at the same time, slender. He was sleek and powerful-looking. Well, Captain, I can say with sufficient accuracy that it is not of our making. The materials used in its structure are materials that we use for our roadways and industrial buildings, not what we would use for our starships. The design itself seems to be geared for two specific things: power and possibly intimidation. As to who or what its creators are, I can’t even begin to speculate. As to its weaponry, I can’t say with any certainty. There seem to be several points along the ship starboard side that are powering up."

The communications officer was Ensign Sparks. She was a young woman with mouse-brown hair. It was streaked with purple and pulled back in a tight bun. She was strong yet slim, and there was a note of intelligence in her green eyes. The expression on her face was serious as she turned to the captain. No responses from our hails in any recognizable language in our databanks. I am, however, getting something on one of the frequencies very rarely used in anything other than short distance radios. It would never have reached us if we were over twenty parsecs away. It was a bit garbled, but I’ve cleaned it up as much as I can and have had it running through the translator program. Hopefully, we will have something soon.

Meanwhile Lieutenant Snow and the rest of his squadron are sitting outside the Baghera. Okay, ‘Saucy,’ he said, we’re to hold the screen. I want you and the rest of first flight to go to active scanning on those small craft. I want as much information as you can get. Milkman I want you and second flight to move out half a click and do the same. Third flight, you’re on me, along with fourth flight. We’re going to spread out in Alpha Screen formation. I want scan updates every two minutes. The lieutenant switched channels from tactical to command. "Captain, this is Lieutenant Snow, Tooth squadron. We’re on station and standing by for your orders."

The captain replied, "Keep a holding pattern on Alpha Screen formation, but make no aggressive movements whatsoever. This may be a First Contact situation, and we want to make a good first impression, Lieutenant."

The lieutenant replied, Aye, aye, Captain. We will await further orders.

Ensign Sparks from the communications station turned in her seat Captain, we have a partial translation of the message from the other ship ready for viewing. I need just a little more time to finish the translation. It should be ready in another five minutes. She turned to her station once more and then turned back and announced, We have another transmission that looks like data coming from the other ship. It’s a translation codex program. It should allow us to automatically translate any incoming and outgoing transmissions.

The captain turned to her and said, Please play the first transmission while applying the new program on the main screen.

All of a sudden, the screen lit up with a slightly garbled picture of a young man that looked startlingly similar to themselves with subtle differences in the eyes and the ears and the noses. The individual on the screen had rounded ears, instead of pointed. He had flat, round eyes and a beaked nose. He had an angular face with close-cropped dark brown hair. He spoke with an odd accent while his words were clear and concise. He said, "Greetings to you from the Earth Galactic Fleet ship Midas. I am Captain Thomas J. Hardy, and we mean you no harm. We are an exploration ship geared more for science than warfare. We’re getting things together for an official envoy to meet in peace. We have programmed our individual communication pieces that we call universal translators, or U-trans for short, to automatically translate your language into ours and vice versa. We are willing to share this technology in the hopes that it will benefit both of us in further contact situations. We await your reply. Midas out."

The transmission cut out to a black screen. Captain Pretty said, "Bring up the view of the Midas."

The ship blinked back into place on the main view screen.

She turned to Ms. Sparks and said, "Record this message to send. I am Captain Annabelle Pretty of the Gata Royal Navy starship Baghera. We also come in peace. Our main objective is also exploration. We have requested an official envoy to arrive here as soon as possible. They will be the ones to meet with you officially, but in the interim, we can communicate via transmission such as this, or we can go on to live transmissions. I leave the choice up to you. Included in this message are our hailing frequencies. I look forward to being able to learn from you and to teach you a little bit about ourselves, if possible. What is your species called? We are known as Werecats. I await your reply. Baghera out. She then took her seat. Send transmission with appended frequency ranges."

Ms. Sparks said, Transmissions sent, Captain.

Captain Pretty sat back in her chair and relaxed. Now all that is left to do is to wait.

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The Midas. She is a big ship for a science vessel. She is built more for speed and power than maneuverability. She boasted twenty particle beam turrets along each of her sides and six projectile ports on each aft end in the bow with three main hangars running amidships surrounded by shield emitters and particle beam turrets that were on a smaller scale than the main guns. She was a long ship, measuring three quarters of a mile in length and half that in width and about a third of a mile in height. She had two rows of sublight engines on her aft end, six engines on top, and six engines on bottom with her FTL drive engines, three of them, sitting in between. The hull from the bow, flowing aft, rose up at a 45° angle. At the same time, it curved outward at a 50° angle. Where the upward angle stopped and flattened out was a set of portals through which one could see into the bridge. Her bridge was a big open space with a forward command station in the center on a short platform, while forward and to port was the sensor station, a science station, and the communications station. Forward and to starboard were the tactical station, the engineering station, and the helm station.

Captain Thomas J. Hardy sat at the forward command station watching the main viewscreen picture of the starship Baghera that was raised up in front of the forward portal.

His communications officer, Ensign Forge, a short, stocky man of about thirty-five years of age with dirty blonde hair and regulation-length linked mustache and goatee looked up at him and announced, "Incoming transmission, Captain. It’s from the Baghera."

The captain said, Put it up on the viewscreen.

Suddenly there was a picture of a young woman that, in the captain’s opinion, had an otherworldly and ethereal beauty. She had a mane of hair that was short and vibrantly red reaching just above her shoulders with two violet streaks going back and crisscrossing at the crown of her head. Her green eyes were slightly slanted with slit pupils and an almost feral stare. Her ears were slightly pointed and closer to the top of her head. They stuck up out of her hair. Her nose was flat with slit nostrils centered above a slightly wide bow-like mouth. She was slender and well-proportioned with a stance that said that she could pounce at any given moment, in any direction she chose.

Her speech had a flowing, almost purring quality to it as she clearly said, "I am Captain Annabelle Pretty of the Gata Royal Navy starship Baghera. We also come in peace. Our main objective is also exploration. We have requested an official envoy to arrive here as soon as possible. They will be the ones to meet with you officially, but in the interim, we can communicate via transmission such as this, or we can go on to live transmissions. I leave the choice up to you. Included in this message are our hailing frequencies. I look forward to being able to learn from you and to teach you a little bit about ourselves, if possible. What is your species called? We are known as Werecats. I await your reply. Baghera out."

The transmission cut out at that point.

The captain sat in stunned silence. He then turned to his science officer, Commander Rozelle, who was also his first officer. He was tall and clean shaven with dark hair and clear blue eyes. He was of an equal height, at 5'9, to the Captain. He was sleek and slender, yet muscular and compact in the arms, legs, and torso. That name, Werecats, sounds familiar, Mr. Rozelle. Is there anything in our databanks to shed some light on our newfound friends?"

The commander punched the word into the computer to start a search. An answer came back to him shortly. The only mentions in our databanks refer to creatures of legend normally found in fairytales told to children about the times before we learned to travel the stars. I’m afraid that’s all there is, Captain.

What do the fairytales speak of? the captain asked.

His first officer replied, They speak of the legendary island of Atlantis and its inhabitants before it disappeared. They also speak of a legendary rivalry between themselves and werewolves. Apparently over five thousand years ago, the Werecats decided to leave Earth peacefully, rather than enter a bloody war with the werewolves.

The captain grunted and said "Well, let’s send everything we have to Earth Command. Apprise them of our situation, and informed them that we are moving forward while following First Contact protocols. As for our new friends, let’s send them a reply. Communications, set our hailing frequencies to those provided and initiate a live-feed hail. We might as well get this ball rolling while we wait for their envoy to show up. Get in touch with Lieutenant Commander Grayson and his fighter squadron. Inform them that we are expecting another ship to show up that does not belong to us and that they are to hold a screening pattern using active sensors only to gather as much data about all the ships here as they can. Further orders will be forthcoming."

The communications officer, Lieutenant Commander Susan Ayala said, Yes, Captain, sending hail now.

She was petite with mouse-brown hair, eagle-sharp eyes, and a firm set to her mouth sitting on an oval face. Just looking at her one would not expect to find an expert marksman and Electroball enthusiast. She also just happened to be the ship’s star athlete.

A moment later, a view of the Baghera’s bridge came up on the viewscreen. Her captain smiled and said Greetings, Captain Hardy. We are pleased to finally meet you.

Captain Hardy replied, It is good to meet you, too, Captain Pretty. In answer to your earlier inquiry, we call ourselves humans. I confess, we did not expect to find that you looked so much like ourselves and yet so different. To be honest, until we got your first transmission, we had no idea what to expect. I sincerely hope that our differences don’t get in the way of peaceful relations.

Captain Pretty smiled and said, We Werecats are adaptable if anything. Well, let’s start with the preliminaries of history. How do you measure time?

That is a good question, replied Captain Hardy. We have what we call seconds which happen in the blink of an eye, and it takes sixty of those to make a minute, it takes sixty of those to make an hour. It takes twenty-four of those hours to make a day, and it takes 365.25 days to make a year. It takes ten years to make a decade, and it takes ten decades to make a century. Finally, it takes ten centuries to make a millennium and ten millennia to make an eon. That, my dear lady, is how we measure by human standards. How about yourselves?

Well, replied Captain Pretty, our days are comprised of approximately thirty of your hours. A year is comprised of 273.75 of our days equaling 7.3 of your months, and surprisingly our decades and centuries and what you call millennium are the same as yours. How old are you by your standards? I am twenty-five by our standards.

Well, according to my calculations, I am only thirty-three of your years and twenty-seven of my own in age, replied Captain Hardy.

Suddenly Captain Pretty looked off to her right and slightly behind her, listening to somebody off screen. When she looked back, she announced, Our official envoy has arrived. I will be taking a shuttle to the envoy craft and would like to request that you do the same. You may bring two escorts with you, if you wish. I will be bringing my first officer and my communications officer along with me. The envoy ship will have a shuttle with multiple docking capabilities sent out from the main ship to the middle of this zone we’re in. Our respective shuttles will dock with the envoy shuttle, and our parties will disembark and meet inside the envoy shuttle. You may bring a legal representative if you wish since ours will be present in the envoy shuttle. At that point, we will begin negotiations for peace.

Captain Hardy replied, "That sounds good to me, Captain. I await our face-to-face meeting eagerly. Midas out."

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CHAPTER 2

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HURTLING THROUGH SPACE WAS THE starship Arragossa. She was a sleek and fast ship. Her zipdrives hurtled her faster than the speed of light. The main body of the starship was shaped like a cat’s eye, and a mandible was on each side, resembling cats’ fangs. She was one of the fastest ships in the fleet, perfect for envoy detail. She was well-armored and well-armed with sixteen laser banks and six torpedo bays housing sixty torpedoes in each bay. She could hold off any of the capital ships long enough to get away from any kind of situation she could be found in. And in testing scenarios, she proved that she had targeting sensors that were sensitive enough to lock on to some of the fastest fighters in the navy.

She boasted a first-rate sensor package that detected anything from the smallest meteor to the largest of capital ships and a range of six parsecs. She could do an entire, detailed, sensor sweep of a system in a matter of hours. She had a hangar big enough to house two squadrons of Prowler fighters, two shuttles, and enough spare parts to build an entire squadron. She already had a squadron of Stalker bombers on board and simulators for crewmembers to practice with. She was the political starship chosen for the First Contact envoy, and most of her systems could be fully automated as they are in this case. She belonged to the Proctor.

She had a skeleton crew of ten people, and the most sophisticated AI program ever developed, the AI’s name was Cordi. Commander Rufus Snowze is in charge as the attaché of the emperor’s chosen negotiator Proctor Arliss Grimhold. He was tall and stout with golden eyes and a calico mane that was bushy and full when it stood on end. At the moment, it was slicked back in regulation style, and his pointed ears were turned forward. Their attention was on the instruments in front of him.

They had been ordered to show up to outlying sector for a First Contact situation with a new species that could spell disaster for their way of life. For this new species was one they may have encountered before thousands of years ago on another planet that they used to call home. Humans. Why did it have to be humans? This could throw off our plans. We will have to play this carefully. We will wait and see what happens. Then we will make adjustments in our plans as needed, thought Commander Snowze. He had looked up the term human. The results he got back from the database were less than he had hoped for. It had said that they were a peaceful but altogether unintelligent species with warlike capabilities when roused. And here they were now flying spaceships and running into patrols. He, then, thought of Captain Pretty.

He had been trying, for months now, to get her as his mate. She was smart. She was sensual. She had a mind for tactics and had proven to be the best starship captain in the fleet. She could fly anything from one of the battleships to a Prowler fighter. He was going to give it another attempt — bringing her to his side. If she didn’t start to see things his way, and soon, he was going to have to take her out of the picture altogether. He couldn’t afford to have