You stretch, still getting used to the feline body you now inhabit. It has been three Earth months since you began your observation on the planet called earth, disguised as the thing called a cat. It still feels strange to you to only have four limbs and five senses. And the mostly useless tail irks you often as you have very limited control of the apparatus. Begrudgingly you must admit the warmth of earth's sun is nice in this form, much better than the frigid land of your birth. It fills you with strange contentment and makes it difficult to retain awareness whenever you find yourself in its rays. The humans do not seem to share this weakness for they prefer to be most active when it is out. Perhaps it serves as a sort of energy device. 


You feel the lean muscles ripple along your back as you stand and gaze around at the human dwelling. The colors of this being are nice, you can't really recall the images seen with your old body in this one but the impression of coldness and uniformity stick with you. Here you had a range, they were not as vibrant as perhaps would be expected, but the eyes did allow you to focus on details really well, making this being an excellent reconnaissance vehicle. The human you are assigned to enters the room, a tall lanky thing with four limbs as well, though they only use two to walk. Your human has a tuft of brown fur that the humans call hair on top of its head and, as is regulation for humans, no tail. The humans do not benefit from the full-body fur that you do. They seem to have compensated by draping their limbs in various fabrics. You hypothesize this is an effort to keep warm, but can not confirm. The human bears its teeth at you in what you know is called a smile on this planet, a demonstration of joy and excitement. Its eyes get odd crinkles beside them and shut slightly. You have not been able to fully confirm if this impacts its ability to see. Its mouth is packed full of mostly flat square-looking teeth with a few sharp ones. You very quickly realized that these teeth serve no defensive or offensive goals and must exist purely to grind up sustenance for easier digestion. You find this development odd and useful and definitely gives your people an edge. Even your form on this planet’s mouth is packed full of thin knife-like teeth that can crush sustenance and enemies with equal efficacy. Your superfluous tail twitches as you lope over to them gracefully, rubbing against their leg as they expect. They pat you with one of their large fleshy gripping apparatuses attached at the end of the extra limbs that are not used for locomotion. 


In the early days, it had taken you time to adjust to the inefficient movement system of this body, you had stumbled and tripped so badly that the human had taken you to a strange clinical place they called a vet where another human, this one with a longer tuft of yellow fur, poked prodded and generally made you miserable as you tried to get your bearings of the being, going so far as to stab you! Several times! A fire had filled your limbs and you used the tiny daggers attached to each of your paws to inflict pain on the horrid human and the mouth of thin blades. Everything about the place had been horrible from the scent of other creatures to a stinging cloying smell that lingered on the table of the exam room. The lights had also been too bright and had washed out the colors of the room making it look the most like your home planet or anywhere else. You had worried the human had figured out your ruse and the new one was meant to torture the information about your kind out of you one way or the other. But then the yellow-furred one had returned you to the brown-furred one saying nothing was wrong that they could tell and to watch you for a few days. You wondered if you had passed the test.


You must have because three months later here you sat, comfortable and warm in the sun of your human house, free to traverse the abode at will. The human never seemed to care that you listened to its conversations, though it did seem to get worried when you gazed into space to transmit a report back to your superiors. So you try not to do that bit in front of the human, just in case it gets clever ideas about taking you back to the torturer. 


The human makes an odd clicking sound before calling “Kitty kitty kitty.” You are still unsure what the clicking is meant to represent, but it seems to be the human's attempt at communicating. You always ensure you vocalize back at it. This vocalization always fills the human with a giddiness you believe must be joy. Sometimes the human even tries to make a meowing sound back at you and it is utterly ridiculous. “Are you hungry baby boy” the human asks, as if you can respond more than the cursory meow. Sometimes you do not know if the human is perhaps broken in the brain or simply lacks knowledge for it frequently speaks to you as if it expects a response.  You can't answer but that never seems to matter to the human. 


The human totters over to the strange square apparatus they call a cabinet and use to hide some of the many tools required for it to provide itself with substance. Human balance also seems to be another area where humans are inferior to your race. Your human in particular seemed to struggle to adequately control its direction and limbs. Though the picture communication device it watched daily revealed all humans had similar equilibrium issues.  You had commented on this in your last report to command. You had also commented on the abundance of accouterment that seemed solely to prepare sustenance. Did humans require these tools for all consumption? It seemed they always required at least one, if not more. Your assigned human pulls out a bag with an image of another type of cat on it, you assume so the human does not confuse your feed with feed for other animals. Humans seemed to really enjoy using pictographs and pictures to represent things. 


Honestly, the worst part of the disguise for you is the nutrition pellet your human gives you. Your superior nose often finds the smells when the humans prepare their nutrients border on intoxicating. The scents were often rich and warm, making your mouth fill with excess liquid on its own as if preparing to consume the source of the aroma. These hard brown pellets the human provided you, however? Bland and rather smelly they clearly served to accomplish one thing, sustain your existence. Occasionally your human offers you a bite of their sustenance sustaining formula and it is far superior to the horrid pellets, but then they say something like “Just a treat Mr. Cuddles it's not good for your tummy” and you can not begin to make sense of it all.


The human insists on referring to you as Mr. Cuddles and you do not care for it. It seems a demeaning name to call you, and you don't really know why. Something about the way the human says it makes you feel as if it would disgrace your entire pack if those on your home planet heard it. And also what exactly was a tummy? They never seemed to use the word in any other context and you could not figure out what part of you it was supposed to be and why the formula to sustain human life seemed so much more complex than the one to sustain yours that it would somehow mess up a vital organ if consumed in mass, but according to the human would be fine as an occasional pleasure. 


A familiar buzzing jerk radiated from the back of your neck,  a message from command. The hair on your neck raised in response to the vibration that traveled imperceptibly down your spine. It jerks again roughly, letting you know it is urgent. You pause, shutting off your optic nerves to receive the message. 


“Attention operative, the mission is ending soon, prepare for extraction and invasion.”  the order is less of a voice and more of a thought that is not your own. Pleasure similar to what you feel when baking in the sun or consuming the human’s nutritional substance fills you. 


Ah, finally! The time to bring glory and bone to your people has come. You let out a loud yowling sound in this body before you feel you're being yanked up swifter than light can travel and away from the horrid food pellets. 


You materialize in your true form above the earth, in a metallic ship, stretching out your eight limbs and reconnecting with the 23 senses you are naturally used to as you prepare for battle. The time has come and the invasion of Earth that began with the cat distribution system was finally ready to commence in earnest!