Kinahran went back to the door and made sure it was closed. Then she started stalking around the side of the room. She didn't have the snare-loop this time – it was too big and awkward to be toting in this, the Simulation Room of the Choosaraf, where so many of the clan's unique designs were tested before being implemented. Breaking anything in here would get her skinned and spayed for sure. Claws and speed would have to do.
The merfah was wary now. She spied it hiding behind a plastic model of something to do with SickBay (she recognized her mother's mark on it), and it ducked into the depths of the model as soon as it spotted her. She moved over and thrust her hand in after it. Once again, her claws grazed the animal, and once again the merfah bolted away.
Kinahran wrinkled her nose, showing her teeth, and followed.
The merfah led her a merry chase around the room three times before she finally panicked it into the vent. "Khih!" she called in glee as it fell. There was an answering cry of "Got it!" from Farafinleet, below.
"Take it to your room! I'll fix up the paneling." She seated the vent-grille securely and left the room, hoping she wasn't leaving too many drifts of white fur behind to betray her . . .
*
She'd nearly gotten the duct-elbow back on when she heard the door open in the room above. She froze.
". . . considering that you have most of this Dettsleet's original components in salvageable condition," the human was saying, "it would probably be easiest to go with a variant of that. Perhaps the design from N'balplar?"
"If you think it would be the easiest," K'rava replied.
The human woman snorted. There was a sudden silence. Ms. Holmes asked, "Ah, are there . . . vermin on this ship?"
The pause stretched very long. Kinahran could almost see K'rava and Captain Klarin-yal looking horrified, ears flat and tails fluffing. K'rava, the diplomat, recovered first. "There should not be any, as far as I know. Why do you ask?"
There were footsteps above at the vent-grille as the human stood next to it. Kinahran pressed the join tightly into place, hoping no light would leak through to betray her. The human said, "There are some IR traces here – something small, being chased by . . . one of your crew, I would deduce. The footprints roughly follow the smaller tracks."
The human moved away from the vent, probably to let either K'rava or the Captain look. Kinahran hastily grabbed up the ceiling panel and held it in place, pressing her ear against it and hoping her fellow Kintarans wouldn't scent her.
There was a faint noise, as of someone rattling the grille. "This is quite secure," K'rava said. "I don't think anything could get through it."
"Mm." The human stepped further away and began talking to the computer, asking for certain databases. Kinahran exhaled in relief and after a few moments, she jiggled the panel into place and quietly left.
*
Unfortunately, she had to pass that door on her way to the bridge. K'rava was just leaving.
"Ah, Kinahran," he said. "I was about to go find you."
"You were?" Kinahran tried to keep her ears up. Oh no! He scented me! I'm doomed!
"Yes. You must have a trace of the mystic to be right here. Oh, by the way, none of your sister's merfahs are missing, are they?"
"They're all accounted for," she replied earnestly.
"I certainly hope so. Here, come in." He turned and switched to the human language. "Here is our apprentice comm officer, Ms. Holmes. I'm sure that Moonfur can explain the rather intricate connection that the First-star has between the comm and the sensors."
"Good." The white-haired human paused and tilted her head at Kinahran. "Is your heart-rate always that elevated?"
Her ears flicked back in mild dismay and she felt them and her nose go pinker. "Ur, no, Ms. Holmes. Ur . . . I just hope that I can be of help . . ."
The human turned to the diagram on the screen. In tones of long-suffering patience, she replied, "So do I."
*
Kinahran wound up walking back to the shuttle with the small group, feeling as if she'd just walked a tightrope in a hurricane with her paws in mittens. While she wasn't at all bad with comm-gear, she knew when she was hopelessly outclassed. She'd had to scramble to keep up with the concepts the human had proposed, and now she just wanted to eat something and sleep. She stood to one side at the entrance – Teritul would be piloting, and Teecoli sitting comm, so Kinahran had no business on board – and the Captain passed her. But as Ms. Holmes was stepping into the shuttle, the human paused and looked at her again through her silvered visor. "Moonfur, do you often visit that Simulation room?" she asked.
"Ur." She swallowed and kept her ears up. "Yes. And with my little sister, too."
Ms. Holmes nodded. "I suppose that explains what your fingerprints were doing on the grille, though not why there was blood on them." Without a further word, she turned and stepped into the airlock, obviously waiting patiently for it to be cycled.
K'rava gave Kinahran a Look, but also leapt into the 'lock, and they cycled through.
Kinahran licked at her fingers, tasting merfah blood, and bounded for her room. Maybe she could convince Farafinleet they should eat the evidence.
###
About the Author
Elizabeth McCoy's fiction has appeared in Marion Zimmer Bradley's Sword and Sorceress #7, in the Best In Show anthology by Sofawolf, and in the fanzine Pawprints (published by Conrad Wong & T. Jordan Peacock). Her tabletop RPG writing is published by Steve Jackson Games. As her author bios in SJ Games' material continually state, she lives in the Frozen Wastelands of New England, with a spouse, child, and assorted cats.
About the Artist
Conrad "Lynx" Wong is a programmer by day, artist, writer, and gamer by night. His art may be found in tabletop RPGs such as Ironclaw, World Tree, and Wonderland No More. His writing appears in the anthropomorphic-themed anthology, Furry!: The Best Anthropomorphic Fiction!
About GURPS
For more information about GURPS, Steve Jackson Games' Generic Universal RolePlaying System, visit https://www.sjgames.com/gurps. The books that provided inspiration are for GURPS, 3rd edition.
Connect with me online:
https://elizabethmccoy.dreamwidth.org/
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