based on the World of Firefly by Joss Whedon

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She sat, perched high atop the roof, a neon sign reflecting her green eyes or was it they were glowing all on their own. Stretching her one leg that had been tucked under her for an hour, Cat switched, hand held tight to the long rifle that had basically become her trademark, even though truth be told, she didn't need it. Her belly rumbled as the fumes from the seedy establishment under her poured out the door and into the icy air along with the fragrance of cheap tobacco and liquor.

Sounds around her kept her on high alert; a bumbling old man calling for a woman named Stella; a dog barked a mile off along with a cat's meow it had probably treed; the echoing of laughter coming from inside, her troop enjoying a moment of freedom from the constant bombardment of rounds. The highly advanced weapon didn't understand this part of their journey, nor why her Sargent had allowed his men such foolish abandonment of their mission, drinking something that would make them weak and stupid, like cows ready for the slaughter. Still, something in her warmed at the sound of their laughter.

With her sharp eyes, she watched as a ship took to the air further off and then at a man asking a woman for a cigarette. Her lips turned when the woman told him to go to hell, but frowned when he attacked her. Jumping from her station securing the rifle so it slung over her shoulder, the long body prepared for the hard impact on the concrete, muscles and joints ready to absorb the shock of the landing. Legs answered her and she was running, the woman in need a few blocks from her.

The man struck her again and Cat growled her madness, a sound that echoed off the brick walled alley. Her hand wrapped tight around the knife she held and with a movement more befitting a pounce than a jump, her prey was penned to the ground, strong booted foot grinding into his neck.

"Lemme up, Bitch." He grumbled, but as her treads dug deeper into his w