Late at night, a dark, sinister figure crept along the wall of the small house, keeping to the bushes as much as possible. It was impossible to identify the interloper because he wore a mask. He had marked the address the day before, and now he was following the sound of soft meowing coming from around the corner behind the house. He reached the corner and carefully peeped around. No one was in sight, and the back yard was draped in gloomy shadows: perfect.
The sinister figure's sharp eyes swept quickly across the yard and homed in on what he was looking for: the source of the meowing, a small beige cat. It looked at him curiously. He gently withdrew a tiny needle-gun from his jacket pocket and took careful aim. A puff of discharged gas from the gun, a hissing "whzzztt" as the needle sped away, and a suddenly prone cat told the story of what just transpired.
The sinister figure slunk over to where the cat lay softly snoring. He unfolded a sack from his belt and stuffed the cat into it. Then, as quickly as he came, the dark sinister figure dissolved back into the night from whence he came.
The ground effect vehicle slowed to a stop and settled earthward in front of a low-built, warehouse-like building. The structure was camouflaged so that it almost disappeared amidst the thick trees and shrubbery that surrounded it. A man emerged from the building and watched the vehicle land. As he stepped out, the face of Judge Neblit Gis was revealed. He walked toward the hover-car and greeted the pilot as he disembarked. "Arn. You're ahead of schedule."
"It's been a good week, Judge," said Officer Nedic Arn. He walked around to the back of his vehicle and popped the cargo hatch. Inside were several cages. One of the cages held a small beige cat.
"Mmm. Nice haul," said the other man.
"Yeah, they should be worth more than the usual. Plus I got one more I need to pick up. That weird off-planet creature you sent up the river today. No one will know we stole it instead of having it put to sleep. Too bad we couldn't pin all these other animal disappearances on it."
"Ah yes, that one," chuckled Gis. "This is one sweet business we have here, Arn. We pick up these critters and then sell them to the fancy restaurants on Breckoli IX. How's the finger, by the way?"
"Still smarts," grumbled Arn.
"The cash we get for that little beast will make it feel better," said Gis.
Chuckling at their own cleverness, the two men began transferring the cages from the vehicle to the warehouse.
Back on the Virgo, Francesca sat by herself at a table in the forward mess hall. She was staring out the big forward window nursing a good stiff drink, her second, and she was feeling worse than she ever felt before. Benton had entrusted his best friend Spot to her care, and she had failed them both miserably. Now Spot was going to die, and Benton would never forgive her. And just when they were starting to become such good friends too. She sighed. She might as well jettison herself out the airlock.
Just then from right behind her, the voice Francesca most dreaded hearing interrupted her gloomy thoughts.
"Francesca? Mind if I sit down?"
Francesca turned to see Benton politely waiting for her to give her permission. She couldn't deny him, so she indicated the seat opposite her with a motion of her hand, and Benton sat down.
Before she lost her nerve and before Benton could start chewing her out, she began blurting out, "Benton! Oh, I'm so sorry! I tried my best, but you know how Spot is. Oh, it's all my fault!" She was practically sobbing.
"It's not your fault, Francesca. It's mine," said Benton.
Francesca continued, "I can never make it up to... What did you say?"
"I said that the blame is mine and not yours," said Benton. "I knew Spot was not himself. I should never have left him with you."
Francesca noticed that suddenly Benton's eyes seemed to look far away. In time or space, she didn't know. Benton continued in a somewhat quieter voice, narrating almost to himself as if he had forgotten Francesca was there. "Spot's been following me around ever since that day he saved my life on New Kelva. After I left the homeworld and entered Starfleet Academy, he's lived in small rooms. After the Academy, he's lived on cramped space stations and starships: all artificial environments. But Spot is, and always will be, a natural, wild animal. This turn in his personality was bound to happen sooner or later." Benton paused and looked down at the tabletop. When he looked up again Francesca saw a real grief in his eyes.
Benton returned to the present, looked at Francesca, and said simply, "Spot's returned to his wild state. He's become unpredictable and dangerous."
"Oh," was all Francesca could think of to say.
Benton rose from his chair. His Kelvan composure were fully in place again. He said, "Well, I just wanted to tell you that, so you don't worry yourself too much."
Francesca reached out and took hold of Benton's hand. He didn't resist. She sniffed and said, "Thanks, Benton."
"You're welcome, Francesca," said Benton, then walked out of the mess hall.
After finishing her drink, Francesca wobbled back to her cabin. She was definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol; she had ordered real Saurian Brandy, not that wimpy Synthahol stuff. She sat (fell) on her bed and lay staring at the ceiling thinking.
She still felt a little bad. Even if Benton had known about Spot's mental condition, it had still been her responsibility to look after the little guy while Benton was on his away mission. Spot had escaped because she had diverted her attention for a second, and then he had gotten in trouble and was sentenced to be put to sleep by the Slartan judge. And all because Spot had reverted to his wild state and was simply following his instincts and trying to go back to his natural environment.
Well, she couldn't let that stand. She had to do something! Spot was scheduled to be put to sleep tomorrow, so she had to do something tonight, but what could she do? There was only one thing...
A lone, shadowy figure sparkled into existence in a dimly lit corridor deep in the bowels of a warehouse-type building near the Slartan court building. It slunk along a wall toward a certain door. At the door, the figure pulled some sort of device out of a pocket and applied it to the door over the lock. A second later, there was a soft click and the door swung silently open. A soft chirping sound came from the other side of the door. The lone shadowy figure whispered, "Come on! Let's go!"