Everybody wants to be a cat. Because the cat's the only cat... that knows... where it's at.

Thomas O'Malley, The Aristocats

The Cat That Knows Where It's At

There was a saying among humans that cats had nine lives. If that was true, then the Calico cat the hairless apes called Jonesy was down to his fifth.

Crouched in a corner of one of Gateway Station's multiple cargo bays, Jonesy, or "Mr. Jones" as he was sometimes called, reflected on his former lives. One of them had been spent on the Nostromo, alternating between mice-filled dreams in hypersleep to scuttling around the corridors whenever the freighter commenced mining operations, placing bets with itself as to which crew member would find him first. It was a life that had abruptly come to an end when a predator even greater than himself came onboard, prompting the feline to hide in corners out of the need to survive. And although he hadn't met the same fate that he knew Brett had or been reduced to kitty litter upon the ship's detonation, he knew that as he fell asleep alongside Ellen Ripley, one life had come to an end.

The best life was my first…thought Jonesy sadly, narrowly avoiding his tail being squashed by the foot of a power loader. How anti-climatic…

The second of those lives had been spent in hypersleep, all fifty-seven years of it. Upon his awakening, some things remained the same, such as Ripley still being a good source of cat food (no more Whiskers though-the Company had discontinued the line) and affection, but instead of having the free run of a mining ship, he'd been confined to a dingy apartment just like every other dingy apartment on this space station. His third life had begun and he'd been confined to a space only slightly larger than the circumstances of his second.

"Hey, watch it kitty!"

Letting out a small "meow" in alarm, Jonesy darted out of the way of the loader's operator, not wanting his fourth life to suddenly become his fifth. He hadn't been living this current phase of existence all that long, though he knew that it would be the hardest yet. He didn't know what had happened to Ripley exactly-he'd picked up the basics of human language, most of it revolving around "dinner time" and "here, kitty kitty kitty," but whatever his de facto owner was yakking on about to the Company suit via vid-phone was beyond him. And when the apartment was cleared out of all the former crewman's personal possessions, cats included, it had become clear to the furball that his owner wasn't coming back.

Guess she ran out of lives in the end, thought the cat sadly, watching a shuttle fly off through the clear hanger doors. And even if she's resurrected somehow, who's to say she'd even be the same?

Somehow, Jonesy doubted it. If there was one thing he'd learnt from cat food, it was that nothing beat the original incarnation of anything.

So, having begun his fourth life, "Mr. Jones" wanted out. Gateway Station didn't attract many visitors and while he could survive on scraps and/or get one of the occupants to take him in, there was just as likely a chance that he'd be treated as vermin and sent out an airlock. So, having decided on a course of action that would put the adventures of those brainless furballs called dogs to shame, all he had to do now was wait for his chance. Sooner or later, there'd be an open crate that he could jump into, one that that would be loaded soon after. Most human worlds were pretty hospitable nowadays as far as he could tell, or at least worlds near Zeta II Reticuli (his former owner seemed to have an unusual fixation with the star system for some reason, not to mention its partially terraformed planet). It was a risk to be sure, but if it meant getting off Gateway Station, it was one that the cat was willing to take. And darting between the legs of a power loader and landing inside a crate filled with balls of string, Jones not only took the risk, but succeeded in it as well.

I'm in! I actually did it! Jones thought, trying to keep his purring to a minimum as he buried himself under the yarns. He'd have preferred mice in the long term, but in the short term, the crate's commodities would keep him hidden from any dock worker who, for whatever reason, wanted to check a crate's commodities before sealing it. And with the lid coming down with no feeble ape eyes looking down, it wasn't an issue he had to deal with.

Being jostled around was however.

Letting out a moan, Jonesy closed his eyes, his former purring as non-existent as his love for dogs. He had a headache coming on and the chatter of whoever was lifting the crate wasn't making things any better.

"I'm telling you man, the ship isn't ready to fly."

"Bullshit. Why shouldn't it be?"

Bullshit…that was a word that Jonesy was familiar with. It was what Ripley had uttered whenever she saw a Company ad, not to mention being a favoured curse word of those onboard on the Nostromo (except Ash for some reason. He didn't seem to curse much.). However, the rest of the words were a complete mystery to him…

"I'm telling you, from what I've heard, something's wrong with the ship's hyperdrive. If it goes into redshift, it could send the ship into another universe."

"What?" the second voice laughed. "Hyperspace isn't some mystical realm of seven dimensions or anything like that. Besides, if the ship's got an issue, it's all those damn scooters that its crew keep on riding."

Jonesy let out a small "meow"-the equivalent of a sigh in his case. He didn't understand what these two were saying and didn't particularly care either. Time, space…all that mattered was the destination. And however good or bad the ship was, it at least couldn't be worse than Gateway Station, nor face any threat worse than whatever monster had been on the Nostromo. All in all, all that really mattered was his curiosity. Curiosity that prompted him to peek out of the crate and look at the manifest and see what ship he was bound to. And with his ability to read slightly above his ability to understand the spoken word, Jonesy managed to see his form of transport.

Apparently it was called the Pillar of Autumn…

A/N

Admittedly there's some liabilities taken here-not only is hyperspace a status rather than a realm in the Aliens/Predator universe and thus doesn't allow for phasing between universes, but the Pillar of Autumn slippling through would mean that either its long service history prior to the Fall of Reach and/or Alpha Halo is all a lie or Jonesy was able to live for around four decades over its term of service. Still, for me at least, oneshots are for entertaining ideas that can't really be developed into multi-chaptered stories, hence leaving me free to seize upon the Jonesy reference in Combat Evolved.

Anyway, better go before my own cat gets jealous...