Feebee Smith was under cover as a Logistics Chief. And, deployed on an operation, gathered her command around her. Four Panthera, two marines (human) and herself. She was classified as human, JSOC had decided it was easier that way.

  “Are you sure one got away?”

  Two of the cats chuffed, “Yes. There were six, we killed five.”

  “I agree,” added Alpha-2, the marine who claimed a kill.

  She looked to the second marine, Alpha-3. He shrugged. “Can’t say. I was down here, away from the action.” Feebee let it slide, she’d bagged two and been ‘down here’ too.

  One of the cats raised a paw, a very human gesture.

  “Yes.”

  “Charlie-4,” said the cat tapping itself on the chest. “There’s a trail of sorts.”

  “Where?”

  The cat pointed across the lake that sat above the waterfall.

  “Show us.”

  Charlie-4 led the way, bounding off straight through the water. The other cats jumped in, chasing Charlie-4 down, play-fighting.

  Feebee and the marines followed, forming up as an arrow. They walked the edge, alert, ready.

  The cats were annoying her, “Charlie squad – stop with the play. Where’s this trail?”

  The cats left the water, their reluctance clear to see. Feebee couldn’t tell them apart. She had no idea which was Charlie-4. They were all the same size, no unique marking she could determine other than patination differences in their black fur. Each wore identical fatigues – thankfully black but without id.

  ‘I could tag the cats. Put an id in your overlays?’ offered the quantum intelligence embedded in her nervous system.

  ‘I guess so,’ she reluctantly conceded. Each now had a designation. She picked out the one with C-4 hovering above it. This one seemed… more focused. She pointed at it.

  “Lead the way.”

  Feebee smiled as the cat arched it back, stretched then strutted off.

  From the drone providing overwatch, Feebee looked down on the lake-filled plateau. The ground fell away behind the lake into jungle. No movement ahead.

  She sent it away to get a better angle on the cliffs. One of cats waved at the drone.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  At the edge of the plateau Charlie-4 stopped, sniffed the air then proceeded.

  “Alpha-2. Hold here. Cover our six, then follow.”

  “Ack”

  An alert appeared in her vision along with a secondary view from the drone. It showed a small shuttle skimming away, low and fast.

  ‘Orbital Shuttle. No shields. Minimal weapons.’ After a pause, the QI added, ‘Threat assessment – almost zero.’

  ‘Ack’

  Feebee called up to MAJ Chen. Before she could speak, he responded. “Yes, we are tracking the shuttle. We agree – minimal threat. Chen OUT.”

  That’s weird, she thought then shared the feed of the shuttle leaving with the team around her; the cats visibly relaxed. There was no change in the marine.

  “Charie - don’t assume they’re all gone. That’s a trap for rookies.”

  Charlie-4 led pointed to a narrow, windy track. A “goat-track” that led down to the jungle.

  ‘Hhmm. What’s a GOAT? A type of vehicle.’ she asked the QI.

  ‘No. A goat is a horned Terran mammal. Able to thrive on tough vegetation in diverse climates including mountains. It's also slang for G.O.A.T., meaning "Greatest Of All Time," used for exceptional people…’

  ‘Stop. I get it.’

  She visualised a question of the QI. It saw a horde of two-meter horned beasts, utterly indomitable, blindly going back and forth on the same path until it was worn bare.

  The QI responded with a mental shrug, ‘Close enough.’

  Feebee checked in with the drone’s AI.

  “Anything?” She was used to the QI’s immediate response, “Drone – you there?”

  “Yes.”

  “And?”

  “And what?” asked the AI.

  “Anything there?”

  “Checking... No movement including polarise IR.”

  “Thankyou!” the sarcasm in her voice lost on the AI.

  ‘Give it a break. It’s a disposable drone’s AI’

  ‘Who rattled your cage!’ snapped Feebee.

  The QI stayed quiet.

  Feebee signalled them forward.

  The goat track led down to an open landing zone. It had been cleared of vegetation and was big enough for a small shuttle. “Charlie-4. Proceed, caref…” before she could finish, the cat had bounded down to the LZ, “…fully.”

  “There’s nothing here,” shouted Charlie-4; the same coming across their open channel. The cat was bouncing up and down. The flopped down.

  ‘Remind me not to go on a covert mission with cats again’

  ‘Ack’

  “Proceed with caution.”

  Alpha-3 tried but failed to stifle a laugh. She glared.

  “Sorry, but…” He pointed to the cat that was now lying on the floor with its rear legs in the air and its body twisted so its head and shoulders were flat on the floor. A position that would break a human.

  Charlie-4 pointed, “Cave.”

  Feebee joined the others on the LZ and was able to see a couple of tables, some chairs and an assortment of crates stacked around the walls of the cave.

  The cave was deserted.

  She walked the cave, couldn’t read the writing on any of the crates, but they looked military. The cats were chittering and very animated, talking so fast the translator couldn’t keep up.

  “Do you recognise these?” she asked.

  “Yes,” responded the cats in unison. One of them found what made for a crowbar.

  “Can I?” it asked, clearly wanting to open one of the crates.

  Feebee nodded.

  The box was opened and when they looked inside Feebee laughed. An orange uniform sat there, bright as daylight. The cat’s shoulder slumped and it turned away.

  “Wait.” Feebee reached into the crate and lifted the uniform out. Beneath were more of the same but instead of being bright orange they were black with camo patination. She reached in a held it up for the cats to see.

  She was literally knocked out the way as the cats left forward; threw uniforms in the air, searching until they each found one their size.

  The uniforms, once on, glitched into perfectly fitting camo. The cats transform from disparate playful cats into a disciplined pride of Panthera Elites; what she’d expected.

  ‘Interesting. You seeing this?’

  ‘Of course. Unlike some, I don’t sleep’

  ‘You’re so funny. Not’

  The QI blew a raspberry back.

  ‘Rude’

  As more crates were opened they found spare power banks to fit the cat’s latest issue rifles and hundreds of the ‘old’ model rifles. There was also high-end ordnance that had no place in an active war zone let alone a cave on a backwater planet.

  ‘This is more than a rag-tag pirate operation and a logistical error’

  ‘Well spotted Einstein’ responded the QI.

  ‘Who?’