Cats and Dogs - Part 1Title: Cats and Dogs
Author: looneyluna
E-Mail: [email protected]
Rating: R for innuendo
Category: Humor
Code: A,R,S,Tu
Summary: This is a possible scenario, which takes place
in season three.
Author's Notes: Thanks to Jessica and Jo for beta
reading.
�Chief Engineer�s Log, March 15, 2154. We encountered a gaseous anomaly, several months into the Delphic Expanse. That anomaly sucked
the life right out of Enterprise, exhausting the primary and secondary
deuterium stores. We�re able to maintain warp one, but not for much longer.
After that, we�ll scale down to impulse and hope that we can make it to the
nearest M-Class planet. T�Pol�s scanning ahead for possible candidates.� Trip
slammed his fist on his desk, letting the rage he had felt every since the Xindi
had attacked Earth out. He wanted to send the Xindi back to where they came
from and into whatever hell they possibly subscribed to.
Now Enterprise was practically dead in the water, easy prey
for anybody to pick off.
----------
��And it�s inhabited.� T�Pol delivered her summation with
her usual lack of emotion. The sixteenth planet in the solar system boasted a
warp capable civilization. There were high hopes that they could barter and
trade for the deuterium they so desperately needed.
�How long at warp one?� Jon asked.
T�Pol straightened. �Approximately one week.�
�Do you think you can keep us afloat that much longer,
Trip?�
�It�ll be tight, and I�ll have to divert the secondary
backups to the warp reactor. But, we�ll make it.�
�Hoshi, get your ear out there. Start learning the language.
I don�t want any miscommunications. Understood?� Jon brushed against her as he
made note of the coordinates. �Travis, set a course, warp one.�
------------------
It was like a dream come true as the Magistrate of Mousetrapalis
contacted them and welcomed them with open arms one week later. A six-foot
bipedal cat person complete with smoky gray fur and yellow eyes filled the view
screen. �We have mm-many amenities,� he purred. �In fact, I�m-mm certain that
your crew would enjoy several pussy�cats while visiting.�
Jon managed to keep a straight face. �Um, thank you. Can you
recommend an area that we can barter for deuterium?�
The Magistrate meowed in contemplation. �I recommend the
blue zone. You could barter services for the deuterium--mm.�
Jon puzzled, but shrugged his shoulders. They would work out
the details later.
-----------------
The street was teeming with life � the kind of life one
would find in a red light district on Earth. Steam rose from the grates in the
street and the away team was looked at with mild curiosity and wrinkled noses.
A scraggily white tail wrapped around Trip�s wrist and the Felinis
attached to it soon followed. �Hello stranger. Would you care to speak to my
sponsor for a good time? I�m sure we have compatible biologies. I specialize in
aliens,� she purred and rubbed her backside against his groin.
�Uh, no thank you,� replied Trip with his usual Southern
drawl, removing the tail from around his wrist.
Just then another prostitute with slick black fur sidled up
to Malcolm. �I�m my own sponsor, and my pad is other there. I�m very bendy,�
she motioned to her right.
Malcolm gently pushed her away, muttering an apology.
A calico prostitute with long luxurious fur approached Jon,
intending to proposition him, but she pulled back at the last moment, covering
her nose. �Disgusting! You smell like a Canis! A Felinis would have to have her
sense of smell removed to service you!�
Jon stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes wide as various Felinis
hissed at him.
�They must smell Porthos on you, Captain,� Malcolm stated, moving in front of the taller
man and reaching for his side arm.
Hoshi took a step forward and ran
into a solid mass of musky offensive fur, which stuck its paws out to steady
her. She could feel him inhale sharply, sticking his rough whiskers into her
face and licking her. She didn�t know how she kept herself from gagging.
The Tom tsked, continuing to
stroke the long strands of Hoshi�s hair. �It�s a pity you�re not in heat. I
would have enjoyed servicing you.�
The tall, disheveled cat turned on
his heel and raised his tail, marking Hoshi as his territory. At that point
Hoshi doubled over and vomited on the sidewalk, some of it splattering onto her
uniform.
The Tom�s spray caused the men to
turn an interesting shade of pale green, as well.
Trip patted Hoshi�s back as she
continued retching in the street. The Felinis paid no more attention to them,
as their services were not needed for the newcomers.
Hoshi unzipped her uniform,
yanking it off her shoulders, the stench of the Tom�s odor lingering on it. She
toed her boots off and continued to strip in front of her counter parts,
wheezing because the stench was so strong.
Still, the Felinis paid them no
mind.
When she was finished removing the
offensive material, she stood in her boxers and tank top.
A loud booming voice greeted them.
�Welcome! You must be the humans the magistrate was speaking so highly about.�
The stout black and white Felinis took a look at Hoshi.
�Oh dear, I�m so sorry that you
ran into a Tom. Here, come with me to my club. I�ll get you�well I�ll get you
something to cover your skin, dear.�
Hoshi was perfectly content to let
her uniform lay in the street, but Malcolm scooped it up, holding it at arms
length. None of the men in the away party gave any mind to Hoshi�s state of
undress as they had seen her in her skivvies many times before. Trip helped
Malcolm with the shoes.
�Come, come,� prattled Mr. Wans.
�My place is only one block ahead.�
-----------------
�Can you tell me where we can get
some deuterium?� Jon sat down at the ill-illuminated table, just happy to get
through the crowd without offending too many Felins with his smell.
Mr. Wans waved his hand around in
a dramatic fashion. �Anywhere, my friend. It�s our currency. What services do
you offer?�
Jon took a data pad out of his
pocket with an inventory of items they were prepared to offer and set it in
front of their host.
Malcolm and Trip stood around
nervously, eyeing the exotic dancing, which took place behind them. A large
display screen flashed measurable units of deuterium as the customers present
and those not present paid to watch the show.
I wonder if they�re all bendy
like that. Malcolm grinned.
Hoshi, covered by a blanket, sat
next to Jon and sipped on a spirit that Mr. Wans told her would purge her
system of the unfortunate incident.
Mr. Wans stroked his whiskers,
mewing, as he read over the inventory. �I said services, Captain. What kind of
services? Do you have any other women on your ship?�
He exhaled, �We�re a
services-oriented economy. You�re either a dancer, like Nanet over there, or a
prostitute like Margalo over there. Everybody pays to play or pays to watch.
Deuterium is the currency for the service. You will find no one here to trade
for�goods. We�ve run into other races where there were moral complications. I
had assumed that you were here to trade her, or perhaps the men.� He pointed to
Hoshi then to Malcolm and Trip.
Jon blanched. �Can you recommend a
system that does trade for goods?�
�Well there�s the Canis system.
They�re about 50 light-years from here. Perhaps, the young lady could dance for
the patrons once. She would bring a hefty price, and I would sponsor her � with
a fifty percent cut of course.�
Jon shook his head. �Absolutely
not.�
�Cap�n, we need deuterium,� stated
Trip. �We don�t have enough deuterium to maintain a stable warp core for more
than a week.�
Jon watched as Nanet rubbed
against one of the poles suggestively, collecting a tip of deuterium from a
patron. He shook his head. �Absolutely not! Trip, you do realize that you�re pimping
our comm officer?�
Hoshi cleared her throat feeling
toasty warm and much better. �I�ll do it.�
�You will not!� Malcolm turned his
head, half listening to the conversation but now completely interested in it.
�I agree,� Jon nodded to Malcolm.
�This is not up for discussion.�
�We�re talking one dance! I can
dance. I�ve taken dance classes. I�ve��
�They�re right, Hoshi. It�s too
risky,� interjected Trip, trying to think of another way. �Maybe one of us can
dance.�
Hoshi spit the sip of drink she
had just taken and started laughing. She laughed so hard she had tears
streaming down her cheeks. "I've seen you all dance before, I'd only pay
to leave."
Mr. Wans sighed, putting up his
paws in frustration. �No, no. That won�t work. Men don�t dance. They are for
stud services only.�
�Here. Take a look at this. While
you were arguing amongst yourselves, I took the liberty of listing �Hoshi�on
the agenda. Two hundred metric tons have already been collected in anticipation
of her performance.� Mr. Wans shoved a data padd at the party, letting
them see the potential if Hoshi were to dance.
All three men looked in awe at the
woman who sat there calmly sipping her drink.
Jon conceded. �Are you sure,
Hoshi?�
She hiccupped. �Yes, but I have
one condition.�
�You three have to leave.�
And uproar of disagreement met her
ears, and she folded her arms across her chest, unwilling to negotiate. She
would be damned if these men would stand around and gawk as she danced.
Jon shushed them and leaned
forward, resting his forearms on the table. �On one condition. You keep
Malcolm�for security purposes.�
Hoshi mulled over the decision and
let the blanket that covered her assets fall away. �Deal.�