Space Cats

Space Cats. 950 words, 5 minute read. With Claude Sonnet and Midjourney.

The distant pulsar flickered against the void—rhythmic flash, wink, flash—piercing the darkness like a metronome marking infinity. Moxie's pupils dilated until gold irises became thin rings around bottomless black. His paw hovered over the navigation panel.

"Course adjustment recorded," announced the ship's AI. "Continuing toward PSR J1748-2446ad galaxy."

From the shadowed alcove, Bagheera observed the captain's fascination. Her movements were liquid as she crossed the deck, each paw placed with deliberate care. A glance at the fluctuating sensor readings deepened the crease between her eyes.

"Something's different about this one," she murmured. "The radiation signature doesn't match anything in the database."

Moxie's ears flicked backward, though his gaze remained fixed on the distant light. "You always say that."

Bagheera's tail curled tighter. "Those weren't altering our navigation algorithms without input."

That caught his attention. Moxie swiveled his head, blinking slowly. She nudged a display toward him, one claw extended to indicate a subtle deviation in their trajectory—three degrees off course, shifting gradually toward the pulsar.

"I made some minor adjustments. For better observation angles."

"You didn't log them."

"Must've forgotten."

Their eyes met—his wide and defensive, hers narrowed with an unspoken question.

"Forget the logs," he said, paws busy with unnecessary system checks. "Think of what we could discover."

"Look at yourself, Moxie."

His reflection stared back from the darkened portions of the screen—whiskers forward, ears erect, body unconsciously leaning toward the pulsing light. The classic stalking posture of their ancestors.

Moxie forced his posture to relax. "Professional interest, that's all."

Three ship-cycles later, Bagheera found him still on the bridge, eyes unblinking, food untouched. His fur stood rumpled where he'd been lying in the same position for hours.

"We've crossed the observation boundary," she said. "We should begin deceleration."

"Just a bit closer," Moxie whispered, his voice rough from disuse. "There's something... it's almost like it's playing with us."

The words hung between them. Bagheera's gaze shifted from Moxie to the pulsing light and back again.

"I'm logging my concerns," she said, retreating to the communication station.

The next cycle, she discovered the comms system offline—a "routine maintenance" protocol initiated under the captain's authorization. When confronted, Moxie merely shrugged, not meeting her eyes.

"Subspace interference. Probably from the pulsar."

The lie hung between them. Bagheera's claws extended involuntarily.

"I accessed your medical scans," she said. "Your dopamine levels are off the charts. Your sleep cycles match exactly with the pulsar's frequency."

"You went into my private files?"

"As your second in command, I have emergency medical override when the captain's judgment appears compromised."

"I've never been more focused," he snapped. "We're on the verge of something revolutionary."

That night, while Moxie finally succumbed to exhaustion, Bagheera slipped onto the bridge. Even prepared, the pulsar's visual pull caught her momentarily. She forced her gaze away, focusing on the diagnostic console.

The readings confirmed her suspicions: neural pattern interference and a radiation signature that somehow mirrored the exact frequency of feline hunting instincts. Not random. Deliberate.

Her paws worked quickly, bypassing the communication lock. Commander Whiskers' face materialized on screen, aging gray muzzle tight with concern.

"Get out of there, Bagheera. Now."

"Sir?"

"You're the third expedition we've sent. The others..." His eyes shifted away. "We lost contact after they crossed the same boundary you passed."

"The pulsar," Bagheera began. "It's affecting our neurological functions, similar to how our ancient ancestors responded to—"

"—to prey movements," Commander Whiskers finished. "We've theorized it might be a trap."

A soft sound behind her made her freeze. Moxie stood in the entryway, his silhouette strange in the pulsing light. His pupils had expanded completely.

"Who are you talking to?" His voice came low, almost a growl.

"Command finally got through. They're ordering us to withdraw."

"Why would we leave when we're so close?"

"Close to what, Moxie? What exactly do you think happens when we reach that pulsar?"

Confusion flickered across his face momentarily before his gaze drifted back to the viewscreen.

"We'll finally catch it," he whispered.

He moved with unexpected speed, crossing the bridge in a single bound. His paws slammed down on the navigation controls, locking in a direct course toward the pulsar's heart.

Bagheera had seconds to decide. Her paw pressed down on the emergency protocols. "Forgive me."

The ship shuddered as the separation sequence initiated. The bridge module detached from the main vessel with a metallic groan. Both cats tumbled through suddenly unstable gravity.

Through the viewscreen, they watched the main body of their ship continuing its journey. As it drew closer, the light intensified, reaching out with tendrils that enveloped the vessel. For a moment, the ship appeared suspended in a web of light—then compressed, twisted, and vanished.

The silence that followed was absolute.

Moxie stared at the empty space, horror dawning slowly in his eyes.

"I would have..." he began, unable to complete the thought.

Days later, as they drifted waiting for rescue, Moxie finally spoke more than the necessary words of ship function.

"How did you know? How did you resist it?"

Bagheera watched the stars drift past their viewport. "I didn't, entirely. But I've spent my life resisting impulses."

The rescue ship found them seventeen days later. As they boarded, Moxie paused at the airlock, looking back toward the distant point of light.

"Do you think there are others out there? Things designed perfectly to lure us to destruction?"

Bagheera followed his gaze into the endless dark. "Perhaps the universe knows us better than we know ourselves."

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