“Runt, that was incredible!” Ivvën tried to give compliments as the group walked—Runt, however, was simply hugging himself and looking down at the ground.

It had been a long, long night.

“Mmmaybe we let him be for a bit, hm?” Amira gently maneuvered Ivvën away from the ever so shaking cat. “Tell me a bit about yourself.” She casted a glance at Williams. A type of ‘see what you can do’, glance.

Williams turned his attention to Runt. His hackles were raised and his eyes looked… well, wired, for lack of a better word. “How are you doing Runt?”

“…Okay.” Runt looked to the side. His responses we’re jarringly short for being so talkative before, as the cat took labored and organized breaths. In for eight, out for eight. . . .he was clearly on edge, with his hands, maw, and fur being stained with blood.

Williams looked at the blood and frowned. But then his brow lifted. “Do Caitians wear war paint in their ancient cultures?” The thought drew Runt back in who looked puzzled at the seemingly random question.

”What?” Runt raised a brow, looking at the man. “Er…sometimes. But that was…well, maybe it was my lineage. Why?” He cocked his head to the side.

“I’m… just trying to imagine brutal feline warriors trying to wash oil paint out of their fur.” The thought conjured an image in their minds and Williams smiled.

“Huh.” Runt looked at their hands, and then back at Williams, giving a small smile. “Yeah. Yeah. That’s—“ Before he could finish, Amira spoke.

”Someone is before us.” She pointed to the forced open storage bay, with its doors ripped open. Blood trailed along the floor.

”…That’s Lieutenant Mikhailov’s blood.” Runt cringed. “I can smell it.”

“Then we go in and help him.” Amira glared forward. “Any objections? Leave now.”

But nobody budged. Runt got into position to lunge, Williams got his phaser out, and Ivvën cocked the rifle.

The group charged in without a second thought, but came very quickly to a stop when they saw the scene in front of them. Sylvester laid, weak, with a gun pressed to his temple. Muri let out a cough; she was injured too.

”He destroyed it.” She coughed. “This stupid cat killed the ONLY chance we had at escaping.”

”Get…” Sylvester looked at the group. “…out of here. Please.”

”If you leave now, I won’t kill any of you. I’ll just kill him.” She sneered, pressing the gun closer. “Even the little traitor.”

“Amira.” Sylvester looked at her, with pleading eyes. “please.”

”….Okay.” Amira raised her hands. “We’re out.”

”What?!” Williams gasped, looking over at her.

”You can’t be—“ Runt tried to speak, as Amira grabbed the two, taking them off.

Williams was caught off guard as Amira yanked the two back into the corridor with surprising strength.

“What the hell are you doing!?! We can’t let-”

But Amira didn’t stop. She wouldn’t even meet their eyes. She typed something into the door, as the doors started to close—

Runt elbowed Amira in the stomach and shoved past Williams, running into the small gap within the doors. He turned back and looked at his best friend. His face was one of uncertainty—but still confident in his choice.

”ENSIGN M’HARAK!” Amira snapped, as she went to the console—only to suddenly see a bright red blade stab through it. Runt had plunged the plasma knife through one side and out the other. “What are you—open this door! NOW!”

Amira stopped as Williams grabbed her arm, yanking her forward.

“…Williams.” She narrowed her eyes. Before she said anything else, their badges beeped to life. It was the Captain, and she was relaying the final message.

”We don’t have time.” He said, through gritted teeth. It was hard to tell what she was saying, but even Amira knew that was true. “The Captain made an announcement. We have to follow it.”

And then they left, with Williams giving one last look at the doors.

. . .

”God damnit, M’Harak, what are you doing?!” Sylvester cursed as Muri gained a wide smile.

”Two new pelts and teeth in a day, eh?” She powers up the phaser. “Must be my lucky day.”

”You have nothing left.” Runt hissed, ripping the plasma knife out of the wall. “You’ve lost! This is all over!”

“I don’t doubt that.” She let out a chuckle. “You starfleet types have proven…gimmicky. But the cats?”

Runt tensed up.

”You cat types are easy. Easy to kill, easy to take, easy to collect.” She presses the phaser once again closer to Sylvester’s head.

”You-“ Runt tried to speak again, only to be cut off.

”And it’s PAINFULLY obvious when one of you are traumatized. I mean—“ She lets out a laugh, pointing at Runt. “The flattened ears, the claws always out…”

”Shut up.” Runt hissed. “You don’t know me-“

”But I know enough of you. Damaged goods. Sylvester here? I could take him and get his pelts for a good price, or even as a good servant. But you?” She suddenly aimed the phaser forward. “You’re damaged goods.”

“DUCK!” Sylvester screamed, head butting upwards. Runt leaped out of the way as a blast came at his head. Sylvester quickly scrambled out of Muri’s grasp and went to the door, trying to brute force it open. He inched it, bit by bit. . .

Meanwhile, Runt was using the darkness of the room to his advantage. It seems the brief power restorations weren’t working in this room besides the red alerts—so with each brief moment of pure darkness, he was slashing with the plasma blade. But each time, Muri met with her personal one—seemingly resistant to the blades affects.

”Almost…” Sylvester grunted. “There..!”

”C’MERE!” Muri suddenly snarled, grabbing Runt by the scruff. He let out a snarl and started to thrash around almost instantly. “My god, for a Caitian you are annoyingly fast!”

“GET OFF ME!”

”Shut—“ She reeled her fist back and collided it with the Ensigns face, letting him fall back against some of the boxes. “UP!”

”RUNT!” Sylvester called, looking in horror. The door was just open. . .and he could leave. He could leave this disgruntled and unruly ensign alone. But…he came back for him.

so he’ll do the same.

Muri pounced on top of Runt, smiling wickedly. “You have two beautiful fangs.”

“Hel—HELP! Sylvester! SYLVESTER!!” Runt screamed as he kicked upwards, trying to punch or fight off the Vaadwaur.

”Tch, I’d like to see him try. Now..” She slammed a hand down onto Runt’s face, forcing his jaw open and grabbing onto one of his fangs. The Caitian let out a horrified whimper as she started the motions of yanking. . .

For a second, it seemed as if she would fully rip out Runt’s tooth—but when Sylvester came charging forward and tackled Muri off of him, that changed.

The two large people tussled and snarled at each other as boxes flew and supplies smashed. Runt let out a few heavy breaths, panicking already starting to set in as he backed up into the darkness of a wall.

Muri slammed Sylvester to the ground, his injury proving too much to fully defend himself. But even in his injured state, Sylvester was able to easily push back against Muri as she started to push her blade into his chest.

”Finally. FINALLY, I can end this.” She smirked, pushing the blade down again. “Any last words, Starfleet?”

”Yeah.” He coughed, some blood trickling out of the side of his mouth.

“and what May THAT be?” She chuckled.

“To your left.”

”Wh-“

“sccccccrreEEEEWWWW YOUUUU!” Runt screamed as he ran forward and slammed the knife right into Muri’s neck. The Vaadwaur woman let out a gurlge that was supposed to be a scream, falling backwards onto the floor and writhing in pain. Blood seeped and sizzled into the air and ground as her flesh burnt and flayed. Then? Nothing.

She was dead.

And they were alive.

–

Runt slumped onto the bridge from the turbo lift with Sylvester hanging around his shoulder. He set the XO down on one of the chairs and grabbed one of the emergency medical sprays in the go room.

Beep! beep!

Runt rushed out—an incoming hail! He was about to speak to Sylvester, but saw the state he was in. . .so he put the hail on screen, and stood in front of the captains chair.

”Acting Captain M’Harak.” Runt let out the world’s most happy sigh as he saw the familiar uniforms of starfleet on screen.

“Thank god your here.”