Stray Cat Strut

Chapter Sixty-Two - Cat Out of the Bag



Chapter Sixty-Two - Cat Out of the Bag

Chapter Sixty-Two - Cat Out of the Bag

"Holy shit, guys, have you seen this? No no, it's on the stream, look, some samurai took it over?

Another? Oh, fuck, they're on all the streams, this is big shit!

Wait, wait, did she just say that Earth is gonna be destroyed?"

--Reaction Andy Dandy, livestream, 2057

***

I swallowed and tried not to let it show when Myalis filled the edges of my vision with the kind of information that the average streamer would die for. Viewership numbers, lists of channels and streams I was on, even a few rapidly-scrolling chats that were moving too quickly for me to read anything.

At least I could easily pick out the generic 🐱 emojis.

Another small box showed me what the world was seeing. It was... me. Well, my helmeted face, at least. It was a cool helmet but it was also rather... faceless? There was no expression there.

So, to start things off right while the viewership numbers were still climbing so fast that the ticker looked like it might spin itself out of control, I reached up and removed my helmet. The entire time I was aware that the camera was catching sight of the others in the background.

Tankette was by her tank, but also by Hedgehog who'd just arrived. She was tugging his uniform back on straighter and had licked her thumb to wipe a smudge off of his face. He seemed rather off put by the whole thing, but wasn't fighting her off any.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Emosythe next to Crackshot. They were both listening as Princess pointed to the Big Gun and gestured at a bunch of things.

My helmet came off, and I casually let it fall before running a hand through my hair. It was that fancy new tech hair, which was honestly just cheating. I had always liked having longer hair, but as a one-armed cripple that shit was hard to maintain. Lucy had always helped me get the knots out and brush it down. She liked doing it, and it wasn't like her own frizzy mop of hair was easily brushable.

This tech hair shit? Yeah, it just fell into place, curled just right, bangs where they ought to be and not a knot in sight. It was bullshit and proof that Myalis' space buddies were also bullshit. No one wearing a helmet for so long should remove it to perfect hair.

"Alright," I said as I looked back into the camera. I'd given myself thirty whole seconds to get my thoughts in order and I'd spent none of them actually thinking. Go me. "So, as I was saying... you might have noticed if you're the sort of dork to stare at the stars, but Mars is fucked. Planet's been overrun by aliens for a bit."

The chat sped up at that, and now the cat emotes were joined by little red circles.

"So, buncha top-tier samurai went over to Mars to clear it out, because we can't have the next nearest planet be covered in shit that needs killing. So far, all good yeah? But then the aliens flung Phobos--that's one of Mars' moons--at us."

I pointed with a thumb over my shoulder.

"That's the Big Gun. It's a kilometre long railgun. It fires bullets the size of a man's head so fast you need scientific notation to write the speed down through a portal at the end of the barrel and out of another portal slapped on the side of a spaceship. It's fucking rad as hell."

I nodded, because what else was I supposed to do?

"Anyway, we're not the only samurai that have been fucking Phobos up, but I'll let the others talk for themselves. Look, things were going alright for a good chunk of time here. We were messing Phobos up, cracking it apart bit by bit. Sure, it's a moon-sized mess of tentacles and hate, but we were fucking it up like a back alley mugger caught by the cops. Actually, we're still messing it up."

I started to walk, because it gave me something to do. No clue what I was supposed to do with my arms and hands, so I let them dangle uselessly by my side. The camera panned along with me, its creepy doll thing shifting as it caught Princess, Emoscythe and Crackshot in the background, then Knight standing an awkward few steps past them.

Stolen novel; please report.

"Phobos has mostly been fucked over. We should all be safe... ish. If things keep on the way they are, most of it will miss Earth and the rest will burn up on entry. So yeah, you're welcome. Except the alien fuck living in the moon just flung a whole shit load of fliers our way. We've got... Myalis, what's the ETA?"

Approximately sixteen hours.

Huh, that was a decent chunk of time.

"We've got sixteen hours or so before they start entering Earth's atmosphere. They probably won't burn up on entering because they're made for this shit. We'll kill plenty, but we're mostly focused on Phobos at the mom--."

I frowned, and almost went on when I got a ping. I'd gotten a text. From Lucy. I blinked as I opened it.

Lucy: Do you prefer this one?

Lucy: Or do you like this one better?

Lucy: Img...1Img...2

"Hmm? Oh, sorry, I got a text from my girlfriend," I said to the camera with a dismissive little wave. I opened the two attachments, and they both filled my vision. "Oh."

I felt my cheeks warming up before I carefully saved both images and closed them. Lucy had found some bikinis after all. They were cat-themed. She had a tail.

"Uh... right, so, uh." I coughed into a fist. "Aliens are going to rain down from the sky to eat everyone. Which is the important thing we should all be focusing on. Stop posting blush emotes you fucks," I snapped. I wasn't blushing. "Some of you are going to die horrifically and I really wouldn't mind it all that much, but I happen to care for some people so I'd like to avoid that if possible."

I needed to get shit back on track. Fortunately, Gros Baton poked his head out of the Big Gun's command centre. "Yo! We're gonna shoot the black hole," he said.

I gave him a thumb's up. "Cool! Lemme know how that goes. Uh... right, for the rest of you. If you're a samurai in North America, keep an eye on the skies? We think that the aliens are mostly aiming for around this area here, to take out our Big Gun. So what I'm saying is that if you've got the time and the inclination not to turn into plant food, then... contact Gomorrah at this number!"

I waited for a moment. Nothing happened.

"Myalis, for fuck's sake, put Gomorrah's contact information on the screen."

Oh, fine.

The information appeared on the screen at about the same time as I got a text from Gomorrah. It was two words, one of which was very un-nun-like.

I chuckled to myself, then stopped when I realized that probably made me look like a creep. "Anyway. World's fucked, but we're working on it, so give us a few and don't lose your shit. I mean, in the worst case scenario we fail and then you won't have to worry about anything anymore, right?"

The Big Gun started to hum behind me, and I paused, not looking its way as the gun fired. All along the edges of the gun, steam came spitting out of the vents built into the sides of the barrel and there was a crack-thoom that made my hair stand on end.

I nodded.

"Yeah, anyway, Stray Cat, out. Good luck out there."

I saluted, then ended the video. The total viewership was in the mid two-digit millions. I took a breath, and when I let it out it was a little shaky. Fuck, that was bigger than the entire population of New Montreal. And I just knew that more people would be watching recordings of that whole thing after.

"You okay?" Gros Baton asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I said. I shook my head to clear it, then reopened those pictures that Lucy had sent me.

She had to know they were arriving mid-stream, right?

Unless she'd been distracted and didn't know.

Either way, I felt like I ought to go see her about now... before the adrenaline wore off... and before she changed out of that.

I deserved some amount of stress relief, as a treat, right?

Of course, Gomorrah chose that moment to call me, and it was clearly a group chat meant for all of us.

I groaned. Maybe we could just let the world end, then no one would ever have to deal with team meetings ever again.

***


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