Cat 1313 belongs to me.....

All else is the creation of Joss Whedon... --------------------------------------------

One final kill....I could smell him from here, a roguish charm to the scent of war and blood, mixed with the gentle odors of hay and horses. He must have been a rancher or farmer before signing up to die. Independents were nothing more than cattle for the slaughter and what made it worse was the Alliance had let them stir things up.

It was nature that drove them, and it was the governing forces that allowed them to continue. Raise enough hell and you were bound to get noticed. Allow them to beat you a bit and you seem to be weak or at least not a powerful as your enemy seems to think you are. Be the body that can be infiltrated and people look the other way at what you are doing behind their backs. The Alliance wasn't stupid and as far as predators were concerned, they were quite smart, maybe too smart.

My legs were cramping, the human side of me getting impatient as I tell her once to shut up. I have heard enough from her as I've slaughtered the leaders of this pathetic resistance, crushing them as they remained strong, not once calling out in pain. Most I have been merciful to, but a few I had to do what needed done to get information. If only they had answered my questions...

I cast a look down the high powered scope on the sniper rifle in my hand training it on the man who I've been sent to kill. He will be the seventh notch on the weapon's belt, something I've heard was a custom way before this world was colonized, before any of the worlds were colonized besides the one they called Earth.

Oh, I knew the place. Education on such was standard for those like me. It was drilled in us, the planet that was before the humans went wild. Problems was I didn't care about some place I would never go to or be welcome on. My life was to hunt, kill, or be killed. Nothing more and nothing less...a smart predator to fix a whole helluva lot of mistakes. One I was about to rectify right now.

He turns toward me and stares toward where I lay hidden, a good mile away. I know he can't see me, can't even begin to know what I am about or where I lay hidden ready to mess up his pretty head. Still, his blue eyes seem to bore into my soul, something I'm still not sure I believe I have and my breath caught in my throat. Those eyes weren't as soft as they had been the first time I'd seen them, spread on the ground in a fit of pain, my creator's malicious instruments causing me pain. Still, I could see the kindness, the fortitude, and the pure grit of what drove these men to combat something they'd never defeat. A dragon vs. the lowly farmer, a rake as a sword and an empty barrel lid for a shield.

Something in me almost seemed to feel...a tightening of the pit of my stomach that made me lose the shot I had on him. The gun feels heavy, weighty...and even though I have strength that should not give out, it does driving the tip of the rifle into the bush that covers me. My position is safe especially this far away, but somehow, even if it wasn't, I didn't seem to care.

What is happening...I'm a monster, a killer than does so without thought. Obedience rather than the desire of my own....orders given that should be carried out, not played over like the decision was mine and mine alone. Shoulder the rifle and do what needs to be done...I hear it echo in my head, but try as I will, the gun nor my hand move to obey. All I can think about are his eyes. One final kill...that's it...kill him and I go back home...completing my trials and become the ultimate in a new line of defense. One shot and I am perfection unmasked. Drawing the rifle back up, I take aim once more, a kid no more than sixteen handing him a cup of something warm, the steam resembling smoke in the cool night air. They talk and laugh, but my target is not as at ease as he acts and even the kid can sense it, a stillness following as they both search the area around them. I smile at the thought of how far I am away and that the only one able to assess where I was at this length would have been me or someone damn close.

Still, second nature drives me against the bush, the gun mingling in the briars. One cuts me deep, blood seeping as it drops to the ground, becoming mud the instance it hits dirt. No more would join it though, the wound closing faster than it had been made, not even a redness where it once had been. Perfection at a price though....they had said to me for I was more predator than human.

Green eye to the scope, I look again, my target reaching to ruffle the kid's hair, not much there, but enough to show the fatherly or brotherly nature of the man I'd been given order to kill. A man who treated his men fairly...nay, like family...like a pack would. I shake my head, rub my eyes at the thoughts running through my head. I am a cat...I don't craze the attention like a dog.

Human...something seems to snap at me, the other half of the coin reminding me that I was flawed. Even though lab created, my Creator's were stupid and made me imperfect by giving me emotions. Hate, anger, rage...I could deal with those...they fueled the fire already there, but happiness, sorrow, fear...these made one weak...made one long for something to belong to. I didn't need to belong. I needed to complete my mission.

Rifle up...I want to take that shot, to end this drama and free myself of these feelings once and for all. Finger tensing on the trigger and taking a deep calculated breath, I count down...three...two...one...

==================================

AN: You could say this is part of the Early Years.