A Catian's Dream

Author's Note

:

After several months of work reworking both

Halfbreed

and

A Catian's Dream

, I'm finally re-releasing both on Lit!

A Catian's Dream

is set 2,500 years or so before the events of

Halfbreed

. It follows the journey of the first Human-Catian pryde that developed in the aftermath of First Contact. Unlike that more serious story, this is happy, silly, sexy fun, and I hope you enjoy it!

PS. As an added bonus, I've included the introduction lore release from my website. Happy reading!

* * *

Captain's Log:

Stardate: Geherra 16th, 198,455

AH

This is Captain Ashanti of the Catian Intergalactic Republic, Commanding officer of the survey ship

Sachmis

. This will, in all likelihood, be my final entry. As such, I record the following for posterity... assuming any salvage crews manage to recover anything from the impact crater.

Our ship has been severely damaged. A miscalculation on the part of the navigator forced us to wrench out of warp unexpectedly to avoid colliding with an asteroid. The strain on the ship caused a fuel line to explode, severely damaging both our Jump Drive and our sublight engines. Three of my crew were killed in the blast: Engineering Officer Zaneera, Crewmember Renni, and Crewmember Ren. My best officer, and a pair of twins. Half a pryde gone, just like that.

We are now on a direct collision course towards the third planet in the Solar System: the only habitable planet in the system, and our original survey target, as it turns out. What few external scanners are working indicate that it is occupied by a pre-Jump Drive spacefaring civilization. Already we have detected hundreds of satellites orbiting the planet, as well as limited development upon the planet's moon, and among the inner asteroid belt.

I have held a meeting with my Officers, and the pronouncement is not good: we do not have the materials or means to fix the problem ourselves, and we don't even have enough power to the engines to correct our own course. At the current speed at which we're moving, the

Sachmis

will collide with this inhabited planet within the next eleven standard days, somewhere near the equatorial band. Even our most limited projections indicate that an impact at this speed would be catastrophic to the planet and its denizens, to say nothing of the fate of the ship and my crew.

We have only one functioning transport, barely enough to shuttle three to four crew members at a time. And with no nearby ports of call, such an evacuation is just a delayed death sentence. I will do everything in my power to ensure that this does not come to pass.

May the Heart of Catia forgive me if I doom both my crew, and an entire innocent planet to hellfire. If I do not return, give my love to Zanari. Tell her that her mother will see her again, beneath the shadow of Liger's leaves.

Captain's Log:

Stardate: Geherra 18th, 198,455

AH

Interim Engineering Officer Raina has managed to convince me of a possible solution. Apparently, the Native Planet we are currently hurtling towards is rich in natural resources. Even a cursory scan of the planetary body has revealed huge deposits of untapped metals and alloys needed for repairing the Jump Drive. What's more, though the damage is severe, Raina believes that there may be less than we initially feared. It is theoretically possible to fix the ship, but we would be unable to manufacture and synthesize the materials we need without initiating direct contact with a pre-Jump Drive species.

Despite my own feelings on the subject, the

Sachmis

no longer has the luxury of maintaining Galactic Law with regards to pre-Jump Drive civilizations. If we

don't

contact them first, the planet - and all its inhabitants - will die on impact regardless.

Officer Raina is recalibrating our communications array to tap into their own communications grid for maximum exposure. We have updated the translators with as much of the species (which dub themselves "Human") language as possible. I currently am fashioning a pre-recorded message to send to the planet, in an effort to explain our situation and hopefully get the help we need.

I have also taken the liberty of preemptively tendering my resignation to the fleet. Even if we survive this, I have now broken Exploration Directives and will need to face the consequences.

Goddesses above, I never thought I'd be hoping to finish this mission with 'just' a court martial.

Captain's Log:

Stardate: Geherra 19th, 198,455

AH

I am astounded. Another

Seminal

species, living right under our noses, and only a few hundred light years removed from Catian space! The physical similarities are as uncanny as they are definitive: bodies like the Elves, ears like the Dwarves, with faces so tantalizingly similar to our own as to almost seem like cousins, despite being separated by light years of distance and millions of years of evolution. Were we not in such dire straits, this would be the scientific find of the millenia.

After Officer Raina transmitted my message, satellite activity over the planet has increased dramatically. We have received thousands of individual radio broadcasts from all corners of the planet, as well as an official response from their world leaders.

From what I can tell this is the situation: The "Humans" are at a late stage of pre-Jump Drive development. Another millenia or two and they would have discovered us naturally of their own accord. As of now, the planet remains divided amongst a dozen factions or more, though three appear to be the most powerful: The North American Alliance, the European Union, and the Pan-Asiatic Coalition. Each roughly corresponds to one of the major continental bodies, and all of them appear to be locked in a frozen conflict with each other.

I held a meeting with the bridge crew, and we agreed the best chance for success is to work with all three - despite their differences. To that end, I have arranged with the Humans an emergency conference on the planet itself.

I have already crossed the line by preemptively contacting a pre-Uplifted species without authorization, I can now only hope that they prove more open to outsiders than their fellow

Seminals

.

Captain's Log:

Stardate: Geherra 21st, 198,455

AH

Better than I hoped. Better than my wildest dreams. The conference - while inundated with bickering and the airing of long standing grievances between the three governments - was a resounding success. Recognizing the extreme danger they were in, and perhaps a bit awed by their first experience with an alien species, the Humans have proven remarkably adaptive to the sudden change in circumstances.

We have already received assurances from all three governments of their complete cooperation, and they have formed a joint committee staffed by the Heads of State in an effort to further coordinate efforts to fix the

Sachmis

' engines. As a sign of good faith, I have allowed our shuttle to transfer the bulk of our Engineering Crew to the planet in an effort to speed the process and provide technical aid to the Humans.

I also sent some of the Medical team to take blood samples, and allowed some Human Scientists to reciprocate. The results confirmed what we already could clearly tell: the Humans are another

Seminal

race.

That being said, the results are nonetheless intriguing. The Humans have a relatively functional Genome compared to other

Seminal

races. They have a breeding and gestation time roughly analogous to our own, though unlike us they have no established heat cycle. Their male to female ratio is skewed dramatically towards males, with a near-one to one split in gender. Compared to our own current nine to one ratio, they are a surprisingly Masculine species, and it shows in their leadership: I feel I may have already met more men in that conference alone, than there are Male Catian Politicians on Catia!

Though still quite technologically backward, the Humans have nonetheless digested what we have given them in nearly record time. Officer Raina believes we may very well have the materials we need before the week is out. She has been working around the clock to jerry-rig a solution to the sublight engines. If we can at least alter the ship's course, we may buy ourselves enough time to be able to fix the Jump Drive.

My beloved Pryde-sister, you are a Goddessend to us.

Captain's Log:

Stardate: Geherra 24th, 198,455

AH

Too many delays, but we are finally nearing completion. The last shipments of alloy are being prepared now at the Human launchpad of Cape Canaveral, with our own shuttle waiting in orbit to tow the payload to the

Sachmis

. We have less than three days before impact, but I am - for the first time in weeks - hopeful of our situation.

There are other concerns besides the imminent destruction of Earth, however. The representatives on the Security Council have informed us of a crisis that has been plaguing the species for the better part of a decade: Plague, ironically.

Swollen lymph nodes, early-onset gangrene, a suspicious resemblance to lung, liver and bowel cancer... this is worse than a mere plague: it's the Talassian Plague. The planet has been stricken with it, the world government's collected projections put the death toll already in the hundreds of millions. Had we not arrived, the species may well have suffered an irreversible population decline.

I cannot begin to speculate how the Galaxy's oldest and deadliest disease managed to worm its way onto an uncontacted planet. However, given Humanity's weakness to it, I think it is safe to say that it is no longer mere speculation that they are a

Seminal

species.

I have dispatched the

Sachmis'

entire medical team and dispersed them to all corners of the planet, with direct orders to spread and disseminate the cure to inoculate the Humans from future outbreaks. It won't bring back those they lost, but it might at least save countless lives in the future.

...Assuming we don't hit the planet first.

Captain's Log:

Stardate: Enharra 7th, 198,455

AH

Joy. Elation. Absolute rapture. The celebrations have been going on for the better part of two weeks, and have shown no signs of stopping. It feels as if the entire planet is in on the party, and everywhere my crew and I go we are hailed as saviors, despite being the ones who were, in fact saved.

As it turned out, we were short the materials we needed after the final delivery. With almost no time left and few remaining options, the Security Council approved an emergency mission, gathering the best astronauts of their collective nations with the requisite materials. The

Sachmis

was within sight of Earth telescopes, and would have surely hit the planet had they not intervened.

At the eleventh hour, the Humans alongside Officer Raina and a few volunteers in my crew managed an emergency landing on the outer hull of the

Sachmis

. After a short space walk and several tense minutes, the engine lights went green. Never was I so happy to hear the roar of the engines than I was in those moments. After a brief course-correction, the

Sachmis

was safely orbiting the Planet. We did it.

These Humans are... I cannot properly describe them. In less then a weeks' time they have managed to overcome centuries of animosity and ill-will, all for the sake of interstellar strangers whom they had no particular reason to trust. Had we been about to collide with a Dwarven planet in a similar circumstance, the Dwarves would no doubt have only ceased their endless squabbles long enough to charge us for the trouble, yet the Humans ask for nothing in return.

Well... perhaps not nothing. They ask an endless amount of questions, many of which my crew are hard-pressed to answer. Yes, there is alien life in the Galaxy. Yes, we are not the only ones out there, nor are we even close to the biggest. Their insatiable curiosity reminds me of our own kind, in a way.

But how to explain to them the wider Galaxy? They are hardly a blip on the Galactic stage, yet their manifold talents tells me that they will adapt well to this new reality. Already, many of their top scientists are working with our own Science team to reverse-engineer Catian technology for their own purposes.

I am in the preliminary stages of arranging official diplomatic relations with their government. The Security Council will - for now - remain the primary vehicle through which their species communicates with ours. We have already begun work on the first interstellar network node, to be completed in the coming months. The first message that Catia will receive of these events, both of the

Sachmis'

voyage, and of our new friends, will be through this communication array.

Given the momentousness of the occasion, the

Sachmis

and her crew will remain in orbit over Earth until such time as communication with the Republic has been established. My pryde and I have already encountered a host of would-be suitors, whom we have had to politely decline in the interests of impartiality. Raina in particular seems overwhelmed with the abundance of attention, and more than once I have had to pull her away from a particularly enticing admirer.

The Catian Government has no idea what they're in for.

* * *

Chapter 1: Felicia

"So what do you think?" Felicia asked, flashing him a sultry smile that on Earth would have looked at home on the cover of a cheesy romance novel. For a Catian it merely looked like she was trying to make conversation.

"Of what?" Jon Koller asked, attempting to keep his vision glued to the desk and the ever growing heap of papers beneath him.

"My outfit." She said, "Isn't it just

perfect

for the decor?" Her voice was teasing.

Jon's eyes flicked up to look at her as her tail swished rapidly behind her. The Catian was beautiful, with long red locks done up in a frilly ponytail, her yellow eyes shining with a mixture of intelligence and good humor. Her shapely build contrasted with the uneasy fit of her maid's clothing: a red and purple ensemble that did indeed match the layout and color scheme of the room. Her skirt seemed to constantly ride up her thighs, displaying far more skin than would be appropriate for a normal maid... though Catians seemed to do things differently than Humans.

"Maybe." He said, a tired smile growing on his face, "Where in the world did you get

that

thing?"

"Rikka loaned me her outfit." Felicia cooed, preening herself. She swiped at her bare shoulder as if she was clearing dust.

"Ah." Jon said, picking up yet another dispatch from the home government back on Earth and squinting at it. Due to the delay in reception, messages would often arrive in packs. "-So

that's

why you look like you're about to burst at the seams."

Felicia laughed, twirling a curl of her hair in exaggerated coyness. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Jon snorted and set down the document, ignoring the lift of her tail as the hem of her skirt rose. "Felicia, I think you may very well be the laziest mechanic on this side of the continent. Aren't you supposed to...

work

at some point?"

"Where's the fun in that?" She asked, sticking her tongue out at him. She shifted her body to sit atop his desk, her rear facing him as she twisted her spine to look behind her. She acted like an Earth housecat: eternally trying to get her homeowner's attention, no matter how invasive. "Anyway, I

did

come in here for work!"

"Oh really?" Jon asked, smacking her hand away as she reached down for his documents. "Stop that!"

Felicia giggled. "Your holoprojector's on the fritz." She bent over the desk, doing her level best to stick her cleavage in his face. "Here, let me get that for you."

Jon laughed as the Catian fiddled with the small device on his desk. "Away with you, minx! Stop filching my stuff and get some actual work done for once!"

Felicia let out a melodramatic sigh and sat up on his desk. "Why? I like talking to you more than polishing your hovercar's crankshaft." She simulated the action, cupping her hands around an invisible rod and lifting it up and down, her wrist working a lather. Felicia's eyes trailed to Jon's as he smirked in bemusement. "Besides, the rest of the pryde is busy. And I've got the day off."

"...Then why are you wearing your pryde-sister's outfit?" He asked, signing yet another document affirming that the Human Embassy had received the Catian Council's latest missive. It was always so hard to read the Catian's particular symbology, even the official documents looked like catscratch.

Felicia's lips pouted, "You don't like it? I thought you of all people would appreciate its...

assets

, Jon."

Jon's mouth quirked, "Far be it from me to complain about your choice in wardrobe. Size issues aside, I think it's quite becoming."

"Does it make

you

want to becoming?" She said, shifting forward on the desk. Felicia leaned towards him, her breasts hanging like ripe fruits as she lowered her amber eyes, her smile deepening as she seemed to almost intimate a kiss.

Jon raised an eyebrow. He ignored the awful innuendo, collecting the latest reports from home and stacking them together on the table. He watched with growing amusement as the Catian provocateur became increasingly frustrated with his intransigence. He heard her let out a heavy sigh.

It had been like this for nearly half a year now. Ever since he had landed on Catia, Jon had been fending off increasingly forward advances from the pryde of natives living in his home, all of whom seemed intensely interested in this offworlder in their midst. The house felt more like a raucous family home than the living quarters of the diplomatic representative of nearly one third of Humanity.

Felicia was the worst of all: a living embodiment of the beauty of both her race and her gender, with a personality to match. She'd been assigned to his private villa as a mechanic, working and living in close proximity to him alongside the rest of her pryde.

Now, well into his tenure, John had grown accustomed to the hotheaded Catian's impulsive and playful nature. She'd traded barbs with him that had left the both of them in stitches, and as she became more comfortable with him, that friskiness had seeped into her other interactions: a playful scratch here, a cloying touch there; momentary encounters that would last far longer than was needed to convey the importance of whatever they were talking about.

"You play too hard to get." She said to him in the present, pulling down his papers with her slender fingers so she could look meaningfully into his face, "When are you going to stop and let someone catch you?"

"Isn't that the point of the game?" Jon asked, gazing back at her. He was strong, athletic and handsome; back on Earth he had been initiated in the art of human courtship, but Catian romance was another matter entirely. He'd never thought that it would be the

male

who had to resist temptation and endure awkward flirting. "I play to win."

"You don't play at all!" She said, shifting her seat so she was even closer to him. "Would you like to?" She whispered. Her tail swished seductively behind her: a red, wriggling thing with a little snow cap at the tip. He saw her eyes flick down to quickly skim the words on one of his classified documents.