Process Not Perfection

It's about rehabilitation

A Scalding Encounter

Brew, The Promenade
January, 2402

The shifts had seemed to get longer and longer as the week had went, from the never ending reports to the testing of new tactics it looked like Kay had been run ragged, but the truth was she had just not had any coffee the life force of every officers day to day life. She had gotten a small break so she decided to take the opportunity to go and grab a cup of the dirty bean water. She wanted something quick, but when she got to the Promenade it seemed to be busier than usual. Newcomers bustling in and out of the amenities, as well as officers trying to make their way into the areas as well.

She scanned the area to see Brew as being the only viable option so she quickly made her way there and ordered a large cup of Columbian blend coffee with French vanilla creamer and sugar. She waited before being handed the cup. She took a sip and felt the warm liquid trace down her throat, before turning and almost tackling the person she had no idea was behind her. Her coffee cup spilt all over the person and while she felt bad her anger spiked because all she had wanted was a cup of hot coffee.

She looked at the man and shook her head “I am so sorry I didn’t see you there. Are you ok?” she said as she grabbed napkins to try and help absorb some of the coffee on his uniform.

Ryke’s spatial awareness was usually excellent, but even he hadn’t managed to step back in time before he was assaulted by a cup of coffee cascading down his chest, soaking him through to the skin.

“It’s perfectly fine,” he replied automatically as she began patting him down with wads of napkins. Quickly, he grabbed her wrists gently to stop her.

“Thank you, it’s okay, I’m just a little damp,” he fibbed, the skin across his chest stinging after the burn of the boiling liquid. It wasn’t too bad, the damp fabric rapidly cooling but he’d probably need to check it over with a regenerator later.

Kay looked at him in doubt. She knew better than to believe he was ok. She knew what coffee felt like when it was scalding hot. As he grabbed her wrist she didn’t know what to do.

“Don’t lie if it hurts I should have been more careful and looked as I turned. I’m sorry again can I ironically buy you a cup of coffee? I need to get another one as well.” She said as she looked at him.

Which was when he realised he still had a hold of her wrists. And she was in uniform… his eyes widened slightly, and he let go. Grabbing senior officers that way wasn’t encouraged. Not at all.

“Err…” He quickly recovered himself and smiled. “That would be nice, thank you ma’am.”

Kay nodded at him “What kind of coffee do you want?”

“Espresso please, no sugar.”

She turned back to the counter and reordered her drink as well as the coffee requested by the stranger. She turned back and extended her hand “Hello I’m Commander Kaylynn Robert’s. Again I apologize for the unseemly accident.”

He smiled as he took her hand and shook it. She was tiny compared to him, and beautiful. It was a long time since he’d struggled to string a sentence together in the presence of a woman, so he kicked himself mentally and replied, “A pleasure to meet you, commander. I’m Ryke… Ashfield,” he added quickly.

Kay smiled while he was definitely bigger than her most people who knew her would say not to mess with her she could always handle her own. She thought about the people she had come across and never recalled the name. She turned around and grabbed the cups of coffee handing Ryke’s to him.

”Well it’s a pleasure to meet you though not in the way I would ever have intended. Looks like you’re a Lieutenant Junior Grade. What do you do here on the station? I can’t say I have ever seen you even in passing.”

Their fingers brushed as he took the coffee and he schooled his expression. Glancing around them, he extended an arm as they moved to the side, turning so the herd of ensigns who had just arrived didn’t knock into her.

“I’m a counsellor, ma’am. They don’t tend to let us out often,” he said with a small grin.

She smirked it was true counselors had always been made to be secluded. The biggest thing was she felt something around him. She felt nervous and that wasn’t normal. She cleared her throat as her mind tried to overwhelm her “Well, at least they let you out. I am sure you have heard my name given my position on the station, but I try to keep a low profile .”

He inclined his head, he had placed her as soon as she said her name, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “They definitely don’t let us near deputy directors often. In fact, there’s probably a marauding gang of security officers looking to herd me back to counselling right now.”

She laughed “Contrary to belief we don’t have bodyguards besides I can hold my own. Sometimes looks can be deceiving.” She smirked mischievously.

“Never judge a book by its cover, counselling 101,” he agreed, relaxing a little. She didn’t seem as stuck up as some senior officers could be. “Take myself for example. Competitive embroidery.”

“Oh really? Guess I’ll have to take your word for it. The mantra for me is since I’m a senior officer I can’t actually have conversations. Most of the time people are too scared to approach or talk because of rank. Utter nonsense well for me I’m usually pretty approachable though I guess depending on my mood I could seem unfriendly.” She said with a slight shrug as she took another sip from the cup.

“You want people scared of you, try being a counsellor.” He chuckled. “Everyone always thinks I’m analysing them. I mean…” He winked. “I only do that 99% of the time.”

He’d been so busy talking he’d practically forgotten about his drink, so he took a sip. Then sighed. It had been a long day.

”In my line of work I live in an analytical mind and sometimes it makes others think they are always gonna be in trouble. Regardless of this you look exhausted. Is your day still going or wrapping up?”

“Wrapping up now, thankfully. Yourself?”

She nodded “Well, I’m on a break though I took a longer break because I worked almost all night and half the day. Have a few more things to accomplish for the day before I can actually get out of this uniform.”

“Sounds exhausting.” He looked closer at her. “Here’s the counsellor speaking… Make sure you don’t burn yourself out.” Then he gave his best, charming smile. “Although, I’m probably breaking a hundred different rules if I admitted that if your name appeared on my department intake list, I’d probably resort to violence or underhand methods to make sure I got you.”

Kay could tell her cheeks were getting red as she blushed at the remark “Well maybe I’d just make sure and request you.” She said with a charming yet mischievous smile.

The blush over her cheeks was charming.

“This might be a bit forward, but… would you like to get a drink with me sometime?” His smile widened as he plucked at his uniform. “Preferably one I don’t end up wearing.”

She stopped thinking for a minute this could be complicated, but then nothing in her life has ever been easy. She nodded “Well maybe it should be the new norm when we see each other.” She joked before continuing “I would very much enjoy that.” She said with a smile looking at the time. “I hate to cut this short, but I better get back to work.”

“So would I,” he said, his voice low. “And, of course. Before you go, how does Friday night? I’ll make reservations.”

She stood up and smiled “I will see you Friday night Ryke.”

“Until then,” he smiled, watching as she headed out, coffee still in hand. Then he smiled and followed at a slower pace, turning the opposite way to head to his quarters.

From being doused in coffee to a date, things were looking up.

The Physicist and the Free Spirit

Security Office, Promenade
January 2402

As Ensign Valeriy Borisevich Makarov looked around the bustling station known as Starbase Bravo, he struggled to get his bearings. He knew he was supposed to report to Security to get his clearances but needed to find out where he needed to go. A Guardian-class station was a small city in it’s own right and it seemed to be a busy sort of place. 

Pleading pardons from a crewman that almost bowled HIM over, Makarov realized that maybe the middle of a main traffic corridor wasn’t the best place to be standing and stepped off to the side. After clarifying directions with the station’s computer, Makarov took a breath and merged with the corridor’s traffic.

Fifteen minutes, three wrong turns and an unfortunate incident where he managed to bump into a lieutenant commander and spill both cups of coffee she was carrying onto her uniform later, Makarov was in front of what he hoped was the door leading into the primary Security Office for the station. It was off the Promenade which had been even more busy and alive then the main corridor where his journey had started. Stores and restaurants had threatened to side track him several times.

He was still carrying his bags and it belatedly occurred to him he probably could’ve at least found his quarters first but he had been told reporting to Security was important and why did he always get distracted, he really needed to listen to that recording of Sturek’s lecture but he was hungry and probably should eat first bef-.

Makarov shook himself and told himself to focus. He was a Starfleet Officer as well as a scientist, let’s try to act like it. At least a little. Makarov squared his shoulders and entered the office.

Thompson had been working through reports and checking that her patrol officers were doing the job that was needed. She sat at her desk looking through reports seeing that things had been somewhat calm, which was a good thing, but she never took that for granted. She looked up just to see that all familiar look of a rookie coming into the office looking lost.

She waved to get his attention and had him come over to her desk. She smiled and stood up “You look like you are lost Ensign how can I help you today?”

Makarov saw the movement from the corner of his eye and approached a smallish, slightly built woman with lieutenant junior grade pips on her uniform. He noticed she was quite attractive then felt the blood rush to his face and hoped he wasn’t staring. He looked down at the ground, the ceiling, the bulkhead, anywhere but the security officer seated in front of him. Had he been staring? Makarov took a focusing breath and stammered out, “I-I was t-told to report here for my, uh, security clearances.”

Thompson nodded “Well I can help you with that. If you take a seat we can get that sorted in just a few minutes. Do you know who you will be reporting too? And what will be the job you will start out with?”

“Ummm, whoever the head of Astrophysics is, I can’t, uhhh, can’t remember the name, uhh, sir. I am a physicist. Astrophysicist. Uhhh..and quantum too. I do physics, sir.”, Makarov clamped his mouth shut as he realized he was starting to babble.

Thompson tried not to laugh at the awkward actions, but she just smiled. “No need if your not sure we can get you the proper clearances. Can I have your ID so I can add you to the system?” She said as she grabbed the PADD beside her and opened it to the proper screen.

Nodding, Makarov fumbled around in his pockets until producing the requested identification card and offered it to the purple-haired officer.

She nodded and took the card seeing the name. “Welcome to Starbase Bravo Ensign Makarov. I am Lieutenant Junior Grade Sonja Thompson, the current patrol shift leader.” She stated as she began to add him into the system for his clearances and the ability to get where he needed to be. In mere minutes she had it all set up from all her previous ensigns she had gotten quite good at the ordeal.

“The information should be on your PADD is you need it but your clearances have been provided. I even added a list of good places to visit as a newbie to the station. Give it a month and you will know where you need to be and every other area in this place that you can access.”

Makarov blinked owlishly at the unexpected kindness. He asked almost shyly, “Are you pretty new here too, sir?”

She smirked “No, this has been my post for about two years now, but I love the station, though at first I didn’t think I would. I sometimes like to cause mischief. My hair color was not accepted at first, but now they have just accepted it.” She laughed. “Is there anything else you need help with Ensign?”

“Umm, no…uhh…no, sir, uhhhh, thank you.”

One of Makarov’s bags chose that moment to start to slip off his shoulder, causing him to scramble to keep it in place in turn almost causing him to drop his other bag that he was holding in his hand. With more scrambling and almost falling down with a startled, “Blyat!” escaping his lips, Makarov was able to regain his balance. Realizing he had just sworn in Russian, he clapped a hand over his mouth like a little kid. Red faced he dropped his hand and murmured, “Excuse me, sir”, and rushed out of the office with the tatters of his dignity trailing behind him.

Thompson shook her head and looked at the desk seeing he left his id. She quickly walked out to see if she could find him. She spotted him stumbling and quickly caught up with him. “Excuse me Ensign, you left this on my desk. I think you might need it. Also do you want some help getting to your quarters?” She asked seeing his struggle.

Makarov turned with a deer in the headlights look, as the ancient saying goes, as the purple haired security officer approached him proffering his ID card. Struggling to get the words out Makarov suddenly had an idle thought of his friends from Starfleet and their reactions to him in this situation. Badger would be desperately trying not to laugh, Nikkira would be covering her mouth to stifle a giggle and P’nala would be rubbing her face in amused exasperation.

They thought he didn’t notice that kind of thing but he did. It didn’t bother him though. He actually understood. They always tried to help him and he loved them for it. He knew he was awkward and he understood this why he hadn’t made friends. Those three were special people and showed him kindness and understanding. He missed them dearly.

Snapping back to the present Makarov suddenly straightened and tried to put some steadiness to his voice. “Thank you for the ID, sir. My father used to say I’d forget my head if my neck wasn’t holding onto it,” Makarov smiled at his weak joke, “and yes, I would appreciate the help, you know the station after all.”

Makarov prayed to everything that could be prayed to that his smile came of confident and friendly instead of mechanical and off-putting.

Thompson nodded and extended an arm for him to follow her. She expertly led him down the halls trying not to talk because she knew the Ensign seemed flustered. In mere minutes she had arrived at the door of the Ensigns newest home. She looked back to see his face he seemed to be very confused.

”Well, here is your new home I hope now it will be easier to get here.” She smiled at him.

Makarov smiled and nodded but on the inside berated himself, he just knew his smile and manner had been odd despite his best efforts. Still, the security officer had been nice enough.

“Thank you, sir. I really appreciate everything. Maybe we can grab a raktajino or something sometime.”, Makarov’s smile slowly faded as his brain caught up to what his traitorous mouth had just shot out. He began to stammer, “I mean b-because y-you’ve, uhhh you’ve been very n-nice and i didn’t mean it like- I mean you’re very nice l-looking so I d-don’t mean you’re not-b-but I wasn’t….please tell me to shut up now, sir.” Makarov looked like a miserable puppy as he gave a crestfallen look to the floor.

Thompson smirked it wasn’t normal for someone to be so lost for words around her. She decided she could be a little mischievous. She got close and gave him a kiss on the cheek before whispering “Shut up Ensign, I’ll be waiting for this drink.” She said and walked away leaving the Ensign to his thoughts.

Ensign Valeriy Borisivich Makarov, Starfleet officer, physicist, and genius, stood in front of his door for a full five minutes and he tried to get his misfiring neurons under control, prompting a few stares from passerby as they came across the vacantly staring ensign. Eventually he made it into his room, shed his bags and eventually started the recorded lecture from the Vulcan physicist Sturek. He found just couldn’t focus on it.

 

A coffee and a chat…

Coffee Lounge, Starbase Bravo
Jan 2402

“I know just the place…”

Luna followed her fellow Counsellor, wondering if this place they were going was somewhere she was familiar with. Probability said it wouldn’t be, she hadn’t been aboard Starbase Bravo long enough for even an extrovert to scratch the surface and an extrovert Luna was not. It was only after they had been walking for a short while that she realised she was still holding her padd. Normally she would have left it in her office but, characteristically she had gotten a bit flustered by the prospect of socialising.

“Have you had much chance to explore yet?” Ryke slowed his stride to match Luna’s as they made their way down the wide corridors of the base. Mid-shift, they weren’t too crowded, which was why he’d suggested grabbing a coffee now. Come shift-change, it would be carnage out here. “It took me weeks to get my bearings when I first arrived.”

Luna shook her head, not that Ryke could see it as he happened to be looking ahead at that moment, or so she observed a moment later.

“Um, a b… a b… a bit?” She replied after a longer-than-was-normal pause. Luna listened to their footfalls below and chided herself not to let the answer stop there. “I found a nice place to sit with a blanket and read a book.” Was that lame? It sounded lame. “B… by a b… b… large window. So I can look out at the planet. My quarters don’t have a window, you see.”

Ryke slid her a sideways look as he turned down the corridor in the direction of one of the smaller lounges. A little off the beaten ‘track’ it was usually quieter than the others on this level, which was perfect when he wanted to catch up on paperwork out of the office, or when his companion didn’t seem the sort to enjoy large crowds.

“Have you checked out the holo-projector in your room?” he asked, sweeping an arm to indicate she should precede him into the lounge. “Took me the devil of a time getting it to work. I don’t have a window either, but it doesn’t bother me too much. I’m really only ever in there to sleep.”

He smiled as they headed over to the replicators. “What’ll it be?”

Images of an unctuous frothy Cappuccino had been forming in Luna’s mind, but these vanished with a pop at the mention of a holo-projector.

“There’s, um…” Luna started to turn pink. “There’s a holo-p… p… a-projector in my room?” She asked, in a small voice.

“Yeah?” Ryke looked over his shoulder. “Opposite wall to the bed. Flick through the room settings on your console and it should be in one of the menus.” He ordered a large latte and stepped back to let her order her drink. “Or one of the submenus, I can’t remember now. Like I said, it took me the devil of a time to find. I’m not surprised you missed it.”

Relief. Luna’s embarrassment meter had started to bubble up towards the top but hearing Ryke mention how buried the settings were, it began to subside again.

“Um,” Luna said to the replicator. “L… L… ”

“Please re-state command.”

Luna took a deep breath and let the steam in her head come off the boil.

“… …Large Cappuccino.” The drink swirled into being and Luna gratefully warmed both her hands on the warm cup, looking up at Ryke once she had a solid grip on it.

He smiled and nodded toward a small table at the back of the room near a window. It was another holoprojector, but it showed a view of the system and the ships coming in and out. It was… peaceful.

Taking a seat after Luna, he took a sip from his drink and sighed in pleasure. “That hits the spot, for sure.”

“You um… drink a lot of coffee?” Luna asked. It was a pretty crap question in her estimation but it broke some ice. At least she’d managed something.

“Yeah,” he chuckled as he set the mug down in front of him. “Probably more that is good for me, to be honest. Doc hasn’t pulled me up on it yet,” he added, lowering his voice and looking around as if he expected to be accosted by wayward medical personnel. “So I figure I’ll carry on until they do. Besides, we’re counselors; it’s practically mandatory.”

Luna took a drink from the large mug of coffee, it’s copious diameter obscuring her mouth and nose so only her eyes were visible to her companion. They fluttered from the cup to look at him on a way that was, unknown to their owner, quite alluring.

“Is it?” She asked. “I um… well… don’t we um, counsel people on avoiding addiction?”

It was probably quite a young, naive approach, very in character for Luna’s sort of energy.

Ryke grinned, finding his companion quite delightful. A breath of fresh air after all the jaded counselors he usually associated with.

“We do, but as they say, ‘physician, heal thyself.’” He sat back in his chair and looked at her with interest. “So, what drew you to counseling?”

The question took Luna slightly by surprise, but without good reason. It was a perfectly valid and interesting question. Luna would have preferred it were submitted in writing before-hand for her to consider phrasing, but then so would she with all social interaction. She placed her coffee cup on the table and considered where to start, what to reveal and with what level of vitriol to speak of her home and family.

“I um, moved? From Setlik two,” Luna started. “The um, difference, I observed in society there and on Earth made me more interested in sociology and psychology. Both individual social choices and um, differences in ethos. I guess it um, snowballed from there?” Her words were clearly chosen carefully, the fact she was holding back plain for anyone, even without a psychology qualification.

“Both are really interesting, aren’t they?” Ryke nodded, taking another sip from his mug. That was a loaded reply and no mistake. But he didn’t regret asking. “Especially when you get the chance to see different societies practically side by side. I bet it must have been a bit of a shock?”

Luna nodded.

“It was. Earth is much more um…. p.. p… progressive. How about you?” She thought Ryke seemed very jock-like to be a counsellor and, if she’d had to guess would have put him in command or security. Of course she lacked the mettle to actually say that to him, but she was very curious to hear his answer. And that took the spotlight off her, always good in Luna’s book.

“Counselling?” He smiled, sitting back in his chair. “Let’s just say I spent a large part of my younger years getting people to tell me things that they didn’t necessarily want to tell me. After a particularly nasty incident involving some teens who got themselves wrapped up in a mess they couldn’t get themselves out of, I realized that I’d far rather use that skill set to help people.”

Luna was immediately struck by the funny coincidence that two counsellors talking to one another either couldn’t or wouldn’t be entirely open. But she was too shy to pry any further. At work she had to, at work it was her job. But this was socialising, her Achilles heel. She thought back to her charisma classes she’d taken and managed to come up with a question.

“I’m… I’m glad you did. Do you have a specialty?”

“I can bake a soufflé while riding a unicycle,” he deadpanned, then cracked a grin. “Yeah, I do. Hypnotherapy. And violent patients. Not together, obviously. How about you?”

Luna grinned too.

“Oh um… well, not violent patients!” She replied a little sheepishly, as if making a joke were some sort of faux pas. “Um, well, I think day to day stuff, stress, neurosis, couples, families, kids like me for some reason? My… my old Captain said I was very easy to talk to… and very unimposing…” Luna blushed a little. “I think it was a compliment? I’m um, well I find certain conditions fascinating, Narcissistic Personality Disorder, Bipolar, Borderline Personality Disorder, Schizophrenia, even Depression… just… working through everything with someone and trying to find the best route out of a kinda maze of stuff that life kinda does to us…” Luna realised she was looking past Ryke off into space and refocused back on him.

“S… sorry, I get carried away.”

He nodded. “Unimposing can work and you’re definitely easy to talk to. Take it from a professional!”

“Don’t worry about it. Being passionate about what you do is what you need in this job,” Waving off her apology, he smiled again and glanced at the time. Almost choking on his drink, he sat up. “So easy to talk to. I nearly forgot about my next appointment! Want to do this again sometime? Between patients?”

Luna looked surprised to be asked, but rallied quickly.

“Um, y… y… yes I’d like that” she replied brightly. “I’ll um, stay and finish this, I’ve got a b… b… break now.”

“Great!” he grinned broadly as he tucked his padd and notebook under his arm, grabbing another quick swallow from his mug. “See you then!”

Sorry, Wrong Door

Intelligence Section, Starbase Bravo
January 2402

Ensign Valeriy Borisivich Makarov was taking a walk after he had concluded his duties for the day. This was a pastime where he did his best thinking, and thinking he was. He had finally had the time to listen to the Vulcan physicist, Sturek’s, lecture in his quarters and it had raised some interesting ideas and reworking of some parts of Astro and quantum physical theory.

Unfortunately for Makarov, the downside to his thoughtful strolls was that he only paid the barest attention to where he was going. He soon found himself in a quieter area of the starbase, not that he’d notice. He would continue to not notice until he heard what sounded like someone trying to get his attention begin to intrude through the barrier of his musings.

Davidson had been working on reports and classifying them per the needed requirements. It had been a slog but she was getting rather proficient at it. It wasn’t what she expected she would be doing but currently it was what was needed. She looked up from her console and saw an Ensign wondering into the restricted area. He seemed to be in his own little world.

She stood up and walked over yelling to try and get his attention. “Your not supposed to be here, this is a restricted area and you are not authorized to be here.”

Makarov blinked owlishly at the young lieutenant bearing down on him with a stern expression.

“Hmmmm?”, Makarov gave a distracted greeting as the world swam back into focus.

“You are not authorized to be in this location, Ensign. What are you doing here?”

“Oh! Oh, no. I-I-I am really sorry, sir! I was j-just going over some arguments against some, some, some equations th-that Sturek gave during his lec- and I’m doing it again and you don’t care.”, Makarav gave a pained smile of abashed self-deprecation and looked at his feet.

Davidson raised an eyebrow at the odd Ensign who seemed to be incredibly flustered. “Look by no means are you in trouble, but you can’t just wander anywhere. If I wanted to I could report you for this, but as I can see you had other things on your mind. I can just let this one go.”

She stopped for a second observing the Ensign “Are you new to the station? Most people know not to wonder past certain points of the station and this is one of those areas where unless your asked to report here you don’t want to just wander in here.” she said trying to be kind, yet to make sure the Ensign understood.

Makarov managed to somehow flush even more scarlet and said in clear embarrassment.

“I, uh, just arrived, uh, yesterday.”, Makarov cleared his throat uncomfortably and continued, “Ensign Valeriy Borisivich Makarov, Astrophysics. I really am sorry, sir. I tend to walk when I think on various things and I don’t know the station well enough yet to be on, uh, autopilot yet I suppose.”

Ensign Makarov felt like he’d rather be wrestling a Horta then standing there at this very moment.

Davidson nodded “Well, walking is healthy and I encourage you to continue with such a great past time, but I urge you to begin to pay attention to where you’re going. While I am understanding some of my colleagues are not and I don’t want to see you get in trouble on your first week.”

She looked him in the eye “I am sure you are going to do amazing things. Who knows you might have to work with us, but for now I’d watch where I was going.”

Not the first time one has heard that bit of advice, Makarov thought to himself while saying out loud, “Yes, sir.”

Makarov puffed out his cheeks with a “why me?” look on his face before remembering himself. “May I ask your name, sir?”, Makarov’s Russian accent gave an oddly musical quality to the question.

”Oh I’m Lieutenant Ashlyn Davidson, Intelligence officer for the Starbase.”

“Intelligence?”, Makarov said in a startled tone and his eyes widened as he realized just how restricted an area he had wandered into. “What does a Starfleet Intelligence officer do all the way out here?”

She shook her head “If I told you that I’d have to throw you out of an airlock.” She smirked before motioning to the door. “Let’s get you back to unrestricted territory shall we?”

Makarov blinked rapidly and said, “It’s better than a forced expulsion from an airlock, sir.”

Makarov then gave a shy smile and made a whimsical sort of shrugging motion before turning in a random direction and pointing ,”Thhhhaaaat waaayyyy?”, drawing out the query as he was unsure of the direction he had even come from.

Davidson could not help but chuckle “Not that way…thiiiiiiiiiis waaaaaaaaay.” She smirked and shook her head something about this Ensign made her feel carefree to act silly if no one was around.

Makarov coughed an embarrassed laugh and noticed that the pretty, blonde lieutenant had a nice smile and a sense of humor. He didnt really feel mocked by her little rejoinder and Makarov found that comforting. Trying to shake the thoughts off, Makarov didn’t quite succeed.

“How long have you, uh, been on the station?”, Makarov asked.

Davidson paused for a moment “I just arrived a few days ago, but I am fairly good at my sense of direction.” She continued walking with the Ensign to the unrestricted areas of the station. She stopped at the doorway that clearly denoted the restricted area. “Just watch for these in the future and I am sure you will have no problems.” She smiled at him friendly trying to make sure he felt ok about the awkward encounter.

“Yes, sir and once again, I am sorry.”, Makarov smiled back a bit shyly and began to move off.

Davison smiled “Wait a second.” She said walking over to him and slipping him a note. The note explained where to go if you want the best liquor on the station.

Looking at the note, Makarov cocked his head. He didn’t drink much, but no self respecting Russian wouldn’t at least see what the vodka selection was like, he mused.

“Uhh, thank you, sir. I hope to see you again.”, Makarov’s smile turned to a horrified expression, “I didn’t mean-I mean-uh, sorry I…good day, sir.” Makarov started off, realized he was going the wrong way and then turned and began to beat an expeditious retreat away from the Intelligence section.

Davidson shook her head at the Ensign. He was unique to say the least and his reaction to her note told her that he was like most guys. They thought she was attractive but he was polite about it. Maybe she would see what happened. He was an Ensign, but for some reason he interested her even if she couldn’t fully admit it.

Makarov felt he had been either rude or strange to the lieutenant, probably both. He had been extra awkward around women lately and he was already awkward around them. First the pretty, purple haired security officer and now the pretty, blonde haired intelligence officer. It wasn’t so much that girls didn’t interest him as much as his few forays into that arena had been disastrous, and now he had the subatomic particle project given to him from Lt. Cmdr. Johnson. Makarov was feeling overwhelmed but he couldn’t just leave sounding like a babbling idiot. He turned.

“Ummm…sir, I uh…”, the lieutenant’s face turned back towards him and he noticed how really attractive she was and froze, then managed to stammer out, “I-I am really not so strange, I, uhhh, I’m sorry, I uhhh…see you around, sir.”, Makarov moved his hands around uncertainly and then inexplicably pointed towards the direction he was traveling and said a crestfallen, “Uh, yeah.”, and left….quickly.

First Meeting

Sector Hotel-Turquoise, Starbase Bravo
January 2402

Despite the rigors and events of the previous day, Makarov slept peacefully and woke up feeling refreshed and centered. Well, centered for Makarov. This didn’t last long as he went through the morning routine of hygiene and breakfast. He was to meet the commander of the Astrophysics Department today. He knew next to nothing about Lieutenant Gideon Johnson and unknowns in social situations always made Makarov nervous.

After finishing breakfast, Makarov fussed over his teal uniform. He really wanted to make a good first impression on Lieutenant Johnson. First impressions were usually where things went wrong for Makarov and he vowed that this time would be different. He kept going over his uniform for an inordinate amount of time until he realized he was just stalling. Taking a steeling breath, he looked at the mirror and an awkward, gangly man stared back. He left not feeling any better but forcing himself to focus.

Makarov forced its mind to pay attention instead of allowing it to do its traditional wandering through the mystical land of physics. A new intrusion was also worrying his mind. Purple hair and flashing smile would occasionally attack his resolution to focus. He found himself in front of Lieutenant Johnson’s office far too soon for his liking. He puffed out his cheeks nervously, fidgeted for a few seconds and then finally hit the door chime.

“Enter,” Johnson said looking up from the PADD he held in his hand. The door swished open and as he locked eyed with the young ensign.

Makarov entered the office to see a bearded, dark skinned human behind the desk. He was holding a PADD and looking Makarov dead in the eyes. Makarov straightened to attention.

“Ensign Valeriy Borisivich Makarov, reporting for duty, sir.”, Makarov paused then added, “I hope I’m not interrupting, sir.”

“Not at all ensign. At ease,” he said his voice soft but carrying the weight of authority. Standing from his desk he walked over to the replicator. “Can I get something?”

Makarov blinked, forced himself to relax and said, “Black tea with lemon, please.”

Johnson grabbed the tea and his coffee from the replicator and headed towards Makarov. Handing him the cup he gestured yo the chair in front of his desk. “Please sit,” he said as he returned to his own sit.

“Yes, sir.”, Makarov took his tea, sat and took a sip. He then waited expectantly as did his best not to fidget.

Sipping his coffee Johnson glanced at the PADD that showed Ensign Valeriy Malarov’s record. “I want you to tell me something about yourself I could find on your record,” he said to him his voice stoic.

Johnson’s seriousness unnerved Makarov slightly and he began to fidget a bit more. He couldn’t think of anything that wasn’t on his record that wasn’t mundane, and the somewhat grim demeanor of the senior officer told Makarov to tread carefully.

“Well, uh, sir. I am working on a, ummm, theory about how to “trick” subatomic particles into behaving as they would they, uh,would if they were unobserved.”, Makarov suddenly warmed to the subject, “I know that this has been an on again, off again debate since the early 21st century but I’ve been working on a few….”.

Makarov trailed off, suddenly embarrassed at his burst of animation.

“Well it’s, uh, a work in progress, sir.”, he concluded somewhat lamely.

Johnson took a long draw from his mug as he eyed Makarov. He watched him intently as he noticed his fidgeting and embarrassment. Placing the mug back on the desk Johnson locked eyes with the young officer.

“Ensign, I’m going to tell you something a friend told me on my first post,” he said pausing to let his words sink in before continuing. “Never be embarrassed about your ambitions. If your passionate about it show it. That sort of thing will take you places.”

Makarov brightened a little at these words. He grabbed his tea and sipped, then asked after a moment.

“So what will my duties on the station entail, sir? Any current projects?”

“There are,” Johnson said as he picked up a PADD from his desk handing it to Makarov. “But those are being handled by the thousands of officers stationed here. I want you to continue your research into tricking subatomic particles. During your free time and I want us to meet in the Green Apple once a month for an update.”

Johnson spoke softly as he watched Makarov’s features analyzing his every move. “Do you thank you can do this?” He asked him.

Makarov’s eye’s widened in excitement. He was being encouraged to do his research. Being able to see subatomic particles in their “natural” unobserved state could open the doors for so much advancement in a myriad of different fields!

With effort Makarov forced himself back to the here and now.

“Of course, sir!”, he said excitedly, then remembering himself he calmed his tone, “I really appreciate it, sir.”

Johnson smiled at him as he sat back in his seat. “Then your dismissed ensign,” he said as he watched the young officer leave his office the door swishing close behind him.

New Beginnings

Starbase Bravo
January 24, 2402

As Lieutenant Commander Aramis Lionel stepped off the transport shuttle and onto the bustling decks of Starbase Bravo, his striking physical presence commanded attention. His lean, athletic build, honed from years of martial arts training and Starfleet’s rigorous physical conditioning programs, seemed to radiate an aura of quiet confidence. At 188 centimeters tall, he towered above the crowds, his dark brown hair perfectly styled in a short, sleek manner that accentuated his sharp facial features.

 

However, it was his eyes that truly set him apart. His eyes looked like piercing emerald green orbs that seemed to gleam with an inner light. Inherited from his Betazoid mother, his eyes held a deep, almost mystical significance for Aramis. As he scanned the crowded docking bay, his gaze seemed to bore into those he met, as if searching for the hidden truths and emotions that lay beneath the surface.

 

Aramis’s arrival at Starbase Bravo marked the beginning of a well-deserved shore leave, a chance to rest and recharge after his last assignment. It also marks a turning point in his career, as he awaited news of his possible next ship assignment, which is a posting that is still shrouded in mystery. As he made his way through the bustling crowds, Aramis felt a thrill of anticipation mixed with a hint of trepidation. What lay ahead for him? Only time would tell.

 

As he walked from the shuttle, he checked in with the deck officer to receive his quarters assignment. He stepped up to the deck officer, who looked him up on his PADD and told him what deck his assigned quarters were on. He left the shuttle bag and headed for a turbo lift, entered it and went to his quarters. He rode the lift alone.

 

The lift doors opened and he stepped out and turned the corner and started down the corridor. He stopped in front of his quarters, tapped his access code into the door panel access keypad and the doors whooshed open, allowing him entry. He walked inside and the doors whooshed closed. He put his shoulder satchel in a chair as he walked around, checking out his quarters.

 

As Lieutenant Commander Aramis Lionel stepped into his new quarters on Starbase Bravo, he was immediately enveloped in a sense of calm and serenity. The soft hum of the quarters’ life support systems and the gentle glow of the lighting panels created a soothing ambiance, a welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of the starbase’s bustling corridors.

 

Aramis’s eyes scanned the room, taking in the sleek, modern lines of the quarters’ design. The walls were adorned with a subtle, textured pattern, a gentle blend of grays and blues that seemed to shift and shimmer in the light. The floor was covered in a soft, plush carpeting, its deep blue hue complementing the overall color scheme of the quarters.

 

As he moved further into the room, Aramis’s gaze fell upon the sleek, silver-gray surfaces of the quarters’ furnishings. The desk and chair, situated in one corner of the room, seemed to gleam in the soft light, their clean lines and minimalist design reflecting the quarters’ overall aesthetic. A comfortable-looking couch and armchair, upholstered in a durable, navy-blue fabric, were arranged in a conversational circle, creating a cozy nook for relaxation and entertainment.

 

Aramis’s attention was drawn to the large, transparent aluminum windows that dominated one entire wall of the quarters. The view beyond was breathtaking. The starbase’s docking bays stretched out before him, a bustling tapestry of activity and color. In the distance, the stars shone like diamonds against the inky blackness of space, a reminder of the vast, uncharted expanse that lay beyond the starbase’s walls.

 

As he continued to explore his new quarters, Aramis noticed the small, personal touches that had been added to make the space feel more welcoming. A few, carefully chosen pieces of artwork adorned the walls, their vibrant colors and eclectic styles adding a touch of warmth and personality to the quarters. A small, potted plant sat on the desk, its delicate, fern-like leaves adding a splash of green to the room’s decor.

 

Aramis felt a sense of satisfaction and relief wash over him as he settled into his new quarters. After the chaos and uncertainty of his previous assignment, it was nice to have a place to call his own, a sanctuary where he could rest and recharge. He took a deep breath, feeling the tension in his shoulders begin to ease, and smiled to himself. This was going to be a good place to call home, at least for a little while.

 

After checking out his new quarters Aramis proceeded to unpack his bag, then he took a nice long sonic shower and dressed in civilian clothes and headed to the Upper Promenade. He stepped back out into the corridor and down to the turbo lift. He rode the lift up and exited onto the Upper Promenade. Aramis walked down the Promenade, looking around and admiring the sights.

 

Aramis approached the open doorway to The Gate Inn, and a warm, golden light spilled out into the corridor, beckoning him inside. As he stepped across the threshold, he was enveloped in the familiar, comforting atmosphere of an ancient Earth pub. The air was thick with the smell of ale and roasting meats, and the sound of laughter and conversation filled his ears.

 

Aramis’s eyes adjusted slowly to the dim light, and he took in the cozy, rustic decor of the bar. Wood panels lined the walls, their warm, honey-brown tones glowing softly in the light. The floor, as he had been warned by reading an informative ad, was indeed a little sticky, as if it had been spilled upon one too many times. Aramis smiled to himself, feeling a sense of nostalgia wash over him. This was exactly the kind of place he needed to unwind after a long day.

 

As he made his way to the bar, Aramis’s gaze swept across the room, taking in the eclectic mix of patrons. There were Starfleet officers, of course, but also civilians, traders, and travelers from all corners of the galaxy. The Gate Inn was clearly a popular gathering spot, and Aramis felt grateful to have stumbled upon it.

 

He slid onto a stool at the bar, and the bartender, a friendly-looking man with a warm smile, greeted him.

 

“Greetings. What can I get you, sir?” he asked.

 

Aramis smiled, feeling a sense of relaxation wash over him.

 

“Just a pint of your finest ale, please,” he replied, leaning back in his stool to survey the room.

 

The barkeep grabbed a clean mug from the shelf and went to fill it with the local brew and placed it on the bar in front of him. Aramis nodded his thanks and carefully lifted his mug to his mouth. Aramis sipped his drink, surveying the crowd at The Gate Inn. The bar was bustling with activity, the air thick with the smell of ale and roasting meats. He had just begun to relax, enjoying the warm glow of the fire pit, when he heard a familiar voice behind him.

 

“Aramis Lionel, as I live and breathe!”

 

Aramis turned, a smile spreading across his face as he took in the sight of his old academy friend, Catersha. Her dark hair was pulled back in a sleek ponytail, and her bright, inquisitive eyes sparkled with warmth.

 

“Catersha!” Aramis exclaimed, rising from his stool to envelop her in a warm hug. “It’s been far too long!”

 

Catersha laughed, her eyes shining with amusement. “I know, I know. Life gets busy, and we lose track of each other. I’m glad I ran into you here in Starbase Bravo.”

 

As they pulled back, Aramis took in the sight of Catersha’s uniform, adorned with the blue color of the sciences division.

 

“What position do you have now?” Aramis inquired of his long friend Catersha. “Last time I heard from you, you were a raw Ensign posted at Headquarters.”

 

As he gestured to the esear next to him, he waved the barkeep over and offered to order a drink for her.

 

“What will you have ma’am?”

 

“Same as him please,” she replied to the barkeep.

 

The bartender just nodded and grabbed another mug, filled it and placed it in front of her. She nodded her thanks and took a sip, then answered Aramis.

 

“My speciality is in Astrophysics now. I was with a survey team that just finished a long term study on the Murasaki 312 quasar-like formation,” she told him.

 

“You’re doing well, I see,” he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I always knew you’d make a brilliant astrophysicist.”

 

Catersha smiled, her cheeks flushing with pleasure.

 

“Thanks, Aramis. You’re not doing so badly yourself. I heard you’re waiting for your next assignment. Any idea what that might be?”

 

Aramis shook his head, taking a sip of his drink.

 

“Not yet, but I’m hoping for something exciting. Maybe a deep space mission, or a chance to explore a new sector.”

 

As they chatted, Aramis found himself feeling more and more at ease in Catersha’s presence. It was as if no time had passed at all, and they fell easily into their old routine of joking and laughing together.

 

As the evening wore on, Aramis realized that he was having the time of his life. It wasn’t just the good company, or the excellent ale. It was the spark of attraction that he couldn’t help but feel whenever Catersha smiled at him, or laughed at one of his jokes.

 

Aramis couldn’t help but wonder if this chance encounter might lead to something more. As he looked into Catersha’s eyes, he felt a sense of excitement, of possibility. Maybe, just maybe, this reunion would be the start of something special.

Rehabilitation

Starbase Bravo
January, 2402

Irric drew in a deep breath, the cool, metallic tang of recycled air filling his lungs. He held it for a beat before releasing it through his nose in a slow, controlled exhale. The timing matched perfectly with the hiss of the turbolift doors sliding open, as if the sound had come from him. Light spilled into the narrow cabin, sharp and almost blinding, forcing him to narrow his eyes.

The promenade stretched before him, alive with motion. Shoppers drifted between kiosks displaying glowing trinkets and holographic wares, their laughter and conversations blending into a steady hum. The scent of spiced pastries and roasted meat floated through the air, mingling with the sharper aroma of polished metal and synthetic cleaning agents. Bright banners of gold and crimson hung overhead, swaying gently in the artificial breeze and announcing the Sun Bloom Festival in bold, flourishing letters.

Irric stepped out with a measured stride, the clink of his boots barely audible over the chaos of the crowd. His movements were precise, his posture rigid, the result of years spent enforcing order in places that fought against it. Around him, the colorful bustle of festival-goers churned—a blur of flowing scarves, flashing holo-watches, and beaming smiles. He moved through it all like a stone in a stream, the flow bending around him.

As he passed, children darted between legs, chasing each other with bright holo-projectors that cast shimmering blooms into the air. Vendors called out in practiced tones, their pitches competing for attention. “Fresh Sun Bloom petals, imported straight from Solari Prime!” “Don’t miss the limited edition holo-charms—yours to commemorate this year’s festival!”

None of it slowed Irric. His gaze stayed fixed ahead, cutting through the sea of tourists like a laser. The bright colors, the music, even the tantalizing smells seemed to fade as he approached the end of the promenade. Behind those pristine steel walls, invisible to the revelers, were the holding cells—stark, utilitarian spaces where prisoners awaited their uncertain futures. The thought settled on him like a weight, but he didn’t falter.

The air shifted subtly as he entered the Security Office, cooler and quieter. The hum of conversation faded, replaced by the faint murmur of comms and the sterile glow of overhead lights. A junior officer glanced up from the desk, offering a brief nod that Irric returned without breaking stride.

The sound of hurried footsteps cut through the relative stillness. Before Irric could react, a hand tapped firmly on his shoulder. A voice followed, low and insistent.

Jade leaned as close to the Commander as she could so that she could speak quietly. “Commander, I’m not sure if you have been made aware but I spotted a few attendees amongst the crowd at the festival who just seemed to be behaving suspiciously. Obviously, I am not a trained security officer so I’ll reserve trying to make any assumptions. I will say that they seemed to be eyeing everyone and everything they came across. It looked as if they were casing this place although I would have no idea why. I could be wrong but I thought you should be made aware.”

Jade realized that she was starting to ramble and pulled back from the man a little to give him space. The fact that she rambles when she is nervous is a trait that she has always hated about herself. She mentally chastises herself for falling prey to that bad habit once more and looks to the commander hoping that he believes her and doesn’t think she hasn’t had her morning coffee or however she may appear.

Irric kept his expression unreadable, but a flicker of something—recognition, maybe—passed through his eyes. He’d learned long ago not to assume, yet his gut twisted with certainty. There was something here, some sliver of truth buried beneath the words.

A slow smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, brief but deliberate. “You don’t have to be a security officer to trust your instincts, Lieutenant,” he said, his voice even, almost casual. He let the silence stretch just long enough to make the man shift his weight. Then, tilting his head slightly, he added, “Think you can point them out to me?”

Jade stood a little taller feeling a little more confident after receiving some validation from the Commander. “Sure thing. They were standing not too far from here and I doubt that they would have made it very far. Come this way please, Commander.” She motions ahead of her and then starts heading back to where she had seen the men.

After walking a very short distance, Jade stopped directly across from a kiosk displaying various holographic wares. It didn’t take her long to spot the men. They had not moved very far at all. It looked like they had managed to move only one kiosk over. She got a bad feeling after spotting them and it quickly returned after finding them again. She couldn’t quite put her finger on the why but she was grateful the Commander had at least somewhat believed her and followed her here.

Jade turns her back to the booth so that she can speak without worrying about whether she was being spotted. “If you look directly over my shoulder, there is a group of men hovering around that kiosk. Please tell me I am not imagining things and that they are giving you ‘bad guy’ vibes too.” Jade manages a small laugh at herself and then looks to the man and wait for his response.

“Definitely.” Irric tapped his comm badge with a sharp click. “Nuni to holding area three. Are there any detainees unaccounted for?”

He glanced at Jade, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Around them, the promenade bustled—voices bartering, footsteps scuffing against the metal flooring, the faint crackle of a holo-sign flickering overhead.

A moment later, a voice crackled through his badge. “Negative, sir. The computer confirms all detainees are accounted for.”

Irric’s eyes narrowed. Across the plaza, a cluster of figures moved with practiced nonchalance, their eyes flicking toward exits, their shoulders just a little too tense. He exhaled slowly. “I think I’m looking at a few who shouldn’t be here. Do a headcount.”

A pause. Then, hesitantly, “Manually, sir?”

“Yes, manually. No shortcuts.” He shut the channel with a quick tap.

His gaze shifted to a small kiosk near the edge of the market, where a wiry vendor adjusted a display with too much focus, his fingers twitching as he stole quick glances their way. Irric tilted his head toward it.

“Lieutenant,” he murmured, “pick something up from that kiosk. Let’s see how they react. I’ll watch from another stall—let’s just say I know the owner.”

Jade had not expected to have to play a role in this adventure but the thought of doing so excited her and she wasn’t quite sure why. Well, here goes nothing..she thinks internally and then turned towards the kiosk.

On and Off

Starbase Bravo - Lounge
February 2nd 2402

Zzzt..zzzzt.. Various sounds of electrical work rung through the small lounge in Starbase Bravo. Recently, the tiniest little lights have been flickering off and on around the base. Not glaringly obvious, but the little things. Whether it be a bulb in a bathroom, or a light on a food vendor’s sign, they were happening. 

 

..and of course, Runt was assigned to it.

This is what he signed up for, though, and do the work he shall! So now here lies the cat, flat on his back (and halfway inside an open vent), ears against their skull as his clawed furry hand worked diligently on some wiring inside the shaft. If the light cursing was anything, they were not proving very successful.

 

The whooshing sound of the lounge door opening was followed by light steps across the carpeted deck. Williams saw an opened panel in the wall and walked across to the pair of feet sticking out. He bent down and called inside. “Hello?”


There was a very loud curse in some language, followed by a bang, and then clamoring. To sum it up; Runt got startled, hit his head, and is now crawling out of the vent to glare up at the man. “Geez, sneak up on people much?” They murmured, before sitting upright.

The glare was gone, but the tiny throbbing pain on the front of his head was very apparent. “Er..sorry. I’ve been having a long day with this—“ He gestured into the vent behind him, a teeeeeny tiiinnyy light blinking every few seconds inside of it. “—thing. What can I do for you?”

 

The Bajoran smiled at the original fray of muffled curses and felt sympathy at the frustrating plight of the other ensign. He gestured to the tube as he answered. “I’m Ensign Williams. The duty roster said I’m helping an Ensign M’Hark with some relay repairs in the off duty lounge.” They’re interrupted by a beep of protest followed by some sparks in the tube. “Looks like you’ve had you’re hands full already.” He looks at the caitians hands. “…or paws? SORRY, if that’s offensive it didn’t mean it that way-“


The moment ‘Duty Roster’, ‘help’, and ‘M’Hark’ were in the same sentence, the cat’s face dropped into a frown so prominent that it could rival almost anyone’s. If there’s anything Runt is, it’s expressive.

“…Greaaaaaat.” He stood upwards, tail now swaying back and forth curiously. “Yes, that’s—gods, really? Apologies. I was just very persistent that I can do this job myself.” He hisses, pinching the bridge of his snout.

“Whatever. Paws is fine, I couldn’t care less. All I care about is that you know what you’re doing.” He sticks out a hand. “Ensign M’Hark. But you can call me Runt—it’s what everyone calls me, anyways. It’s a..” There’s a small pause; almost as if the cat was deciding what to make of the Bajoran. “..pleasure to meet you.”

 

“Ensign Williams. My hands are at your service.” He felt a beat between their introductions, but quickly made his mind up about this cat man. He seemed like a grumpy fix it kinda guy. They were going to get along fine. “Where do we begin?”

“Mmmmmwell…” Runt held up a clawed finger, pausing the conversation.

. . . .

A little alarm went off a minute later, coming from Runt’s communicator. With one whap, he silenced the alarm. “Lunch.” He smirked. “Lunch is where we begin.”

The cat got a goofy, almost animated smile on his face as they strutted over to a small bag sitting against the wall, opening it with a flourish and pulling out something that smelt very spicy. “What?? I like lunch. It’s mandatory for a reason.” 


Williams had given him a look, but he smiled and shook his head. “You packed a lunch? Huh, cool. What is that?” He pointed at the mystery contents inside.


Runt had already been stuffing his face full, tail sporadically twitching here and there as they munched. “Mmh-” Big gulp. “A mix of things. For me, lunch is the largest meal of the day. It’s this strange internal clock my family has had: we’re barely hungry for dinner, peckish at best for breakfast, and starving at lunchtime.” As Runt spoke, he listed each aspect on his clawed fingers.

Blink blink.

“Oh! Whoops, I’m a total jerk. Do you want some? I brought a smaller portion in case I got hungrier–” As he spoke (This cat really likes to speak, it seems.), Runt dug into said bag and handed a small container to Williams.

 

Williams took the container and opened it. A waft of hot spice mixed with some kind of fleshy scent hit his nostrils and he blinked. “That’s… strong stuff.” Runt began eating again but watched for Williams reaction to his lunch. He looked back at the container.

It was a fibery-like pulled pork or a slow cooked roast. There were also small green spices and what looked like sliced peppers(?). He grabbed a bit with his index finger and thumb, raised it in an informal toast to Runt, then plopped it on his tongue. He chewed, then it hit him. After the first second of calm a wave of spicy hot sensation filled his mouth and he quickly swallowed.


“See? Not bad at all. It’s actually–” CRUNCH. There’s one big pepper Runt just ate. “–reaflly goffd!” The cat let out a content sigh, leaning their head back against the wall as the two ate in silence for a bit. It was a good minute before he spoke again.

“..Apologies, for being so..what’s the word, annoying? Earlier?” He plopped another bit of food into his mouth, chewing. “I tend to have, er, problems, getting to socialize with others. It’s a vise and a virtue to be more involved with my interests than connection with people.” Runt glances over. “Also, this light has been bothering me all god damn day. It’s like a flickering reminder that we’re still subject to every bit of technology’s whim.”

 

William’s face had gone red by this point as he finished the food and was very  careful not to touch his eyes. “I need something to fight the heat. One moment..” He stood and walked over to the replicator station in the wall.

“Milk, chilled.” A glass of the cold liquid materializes and Reon takes it greedily. He pours the drink across his burning tongue and drains it in one draft. He lets out a sigh and puts the glass back in the replicator. “Geez. What was that stuff?”


“Oh, goodness if I remember.” Runt gets up and walks over as well, speaking to the replicator. “Mango Juice. Iced.” He takes it and sips on the glass, closing their eyes and purrrrrrring ever so softly. It seemed this cat really enjoyed a good glass of juice.

“I grabbed whatever was in my small pantry. It’s what I do the majority of the time I cook my own stuff, anyways…replicators are fine and all, but I love gathering my own foods locally. It’s almost..” Runt takes a long sip of the juice. “Rewarding.”


“Can’t argue with the results. That was pretty good.” Reon walked over to one of the cushioned seats in the lounge and sat as they finished their lunch break. “You said you have a pantry in your quarters. Do you have some kind of cooking station as well?”


He almost choked on his drink at that comment, gawfing for a second. Runt had this almost uncharacteristic laugh; deep, and imposing. Brooding, even. “Nooo..oh, no. Not for an Ensign. I was able to bring my carry on from the academy; it takes up a lot of desk space, though. I just use a nearby communal area to cook.”

The kitty then glanced over at the vent, frowning. “Uuuuggghhhhh..we still have to fix that.”


“Yeah.” Reon looked at it a little hesitant. He pushed that aside and slapped his hands on his knees. “Might as well get it done sooner than later.” He stood and walked over to the jefferies tube. Inside, a few of the engineering tools Runt had been using were sticking out of an exposed panel. He poked his head inside to get a look. 

 

“I can try rerouting the power to clear this space you’re working on here. Let me grab my tricorder…” He pulled his head out and grabbed the folded device off his hip.


“I’ve tried that, actually.” Runt stood up, now slinking his way next to Reon. For someone who’s been in multiple jefferies tubes today, this cat had shockingly soft fur. Well kept. “I can’t figure out what the problem’s been–rerouting, rewiring, hell even replacing. Nothing’s been working. If anything, I think this may be a core issue..but I just can’t figure it out.”

 

There was a reason Williams had switched to security at the academy. He was having trouble thinking of a way to be of use. He opened the tricorder and took another scan of the opened panels exposed components. “A core issue. Like a problem with the station power supply? If that were the case, wouldn’t other systems through the station be affected as well?”


“See, I was thinking the same thing. But when I did an analysis on everything..nothing.” The cat frowns, looking at the tiny bulb in the shaft, grabbing it. It flickered off and on, off and on, offfff and oooonn.. “Mh. I think this sections a bust…maybe I’ll replace the bulb and see what that does.” 

 

Runt climbs back out of the jefferies tube, stretching. Biiiiiiiggg stretch. “Urgh, my shoulders are killing me!”


“While you’re doing that. I’m going to find an ops station and check on any flags on the power grid. It would be embarrassing if there was a much larger issue and we missed it.” Williams tucked the tricorder back onto his hip and stepped out of the lounge.


Runt watched as the man walked to go find the ops station, hesitating. Wouldn’t it be a good idea to ask to come back and chat more? Or…something. But alas, he was already off–all the cat could do was hope.

. . .

“..You have got to be kidding me.” The unscrewing of the bulb and replacing it was no issue. If anything, it was actually a very quick action to do. That didn’t make him more frustrated.

What was upsetting Runt was that somehow, with no power source or ability flicker, the damn bulb was still going.

On, off. On, off. On, off. On–you get the idea. Runt looked down at the bulb, following the patterns of the light’s flicker. No special symbol, no morse code, nothing like that.

It was just..flickering. Just there. For some reason, it was a reminder of a long time ago in his life. But why? To Runt, maybe it was a good idea to unpack later. Duty calls, after all. 

 

The door whooshed open again and Reon walked back into the lounge. He held a PADD which was currently displaying the power lines running throughout the deck. Like Runt, he had found no solution to the failing indicator bulbs in the Jeffers tube. He sat down by Runts exposed boots and called to him in the tube.

 

“I’m back. No luck at ops I’m afraid.”

 

All Runt could say in response was a low cat trill as they stared at the blinking bulb in his hand.

 

“I..don’t know what to do here, honestly.” His tail brushed against William’s head for a second (considering the caitian’s got a large tail, this was most likely an accident), as he set the blinking bulb down. “It’s flashing even when it’s not connected to *any* power. So, uhm, what the hell?” Runt tried to give a small laugh, but it sounded more like a scoff now.

“Scanned for any anomalies?” Williams asked, gently pushing the feline’s tail down.

 

“..Mmh. I’ve scanned for any anomalies or anything like that, but. . .nothing. It’s just…*on*.”

 

Reon tossed his PADD down on the carpet and put his face in his palms. The small earring swung by his face as he rested it in his hands. “Is it just that light? Are the rest of the subsystems functioning?”

 

“Well *now* they are.” Runt scoffs, leaning back. “Ain’t that something…” There’s a brief pause from the cat again. He seems to enjoy these small beats of silence. “You know, it’s a little funny. Out of this headache of a day, one good thing came of it.”

 

Runt then looked over, giving his ever so unsettling toothy grin. “I made a new friend. Er—well, if you wanted to be friends? Uh, we haven’t really talked for more than, two hours at best, but, y’know. Uh..” Runt cleared his throat.

 

“Apologies. I like to run my maw when I get nervous.”

 

Reon smiles. “Not at all. It was nice to meet you to. I wasn’t expecting REAL cooked food until I got my first chance to visit home.” He peers inside the jefferies tube and lowers his voice. “If everything else is functioning… I say we just close up this panel, and see if it will settle itself.”

 

Runt grew a goofy smile so wide it almost made the cat’s eyes pop out of his sockets.

 

“Really?? Great! Then I need to know everything about you. How old are you? Is that silver on your ear? What’s your family like? Do—“ Runt suddenly stopped himself, taking a deep inhale. 

 

“Apologies once again. I enjoy learning about *everything* I can. I including my friends.”

 

He pauses…and a shit eating grin slowly creeped along the cats snout as they glanced at the tube. “You know,” Runt started. “This tube is barely used now-adays. It gets pretty naturally cold, and it’s *really* hard to keep your own treats here…why not make this a little more useful?”

 

Williams turned to Runt with an almost bewildered expression. “I’m all for bending rules, but not breaking them. And food stashed in a maintained crawl way sounds like a health violation mister.”

 

He crawls past Runt and seals the access panel into place with a very professional rigidness.

 

“Boooooo, it would be properly sealed!” Runt snickers and bwaps William’s foot. “Besides! Imagine having, like, ten packs of earth’s carbonated drinks just stashed here. It could be a hangout spot!” Noticeably, he’s purring.

 

Reon smiles and looks at Runt. “NO.” He tucks his PADD under his arm and helps gather up the tools.

 

“Let’s start our adventures with some on the books stuff. Do you like holo programs?” Reon walks over to the replicator as they chat and clean. He activates the machine and it breaks down the glasses they’d drank from earlier.

 

In retaliation to the “NO”, Runt blows a raspberry in Reon’s direction, before going back to that goofy smile. But it quickly drops at the holoprogram mention. “Ha…ha…yeeeep. Sure do! Totally..I LOVE holo programs. With uncanny..faces! And..people who are..*totally* human…yep!”

 

Cats just have an extra sense for the surreal and fake. His ears were flat against his skull as he gave a biiiiigggg, anxious smile. “If we do go, maybe nothing resembling Catiains..?”

 

Reon nods his agreement. “That’s fair. I’ll find something laid back. We should meet up when we’re off duty and try one. My dad gave me this great medieval program before I entered the Academy.” Williams was smiling at the fond memories. He was sure the holo program was somewhere in his quarters.

 

“Alright…”

The cat’s mood slowly improved, a more softer, slightly less anxious smile creeping onto his face. “Sure, sure! That works with me! I think that would be..” 

 

Deep inhale. “Fun! Relaxing, maybe..”

 

“I’m glad. I’ll see you later then.” Reon steps out of the lounge and heads back to the security station for his days next duty assignment. Visions of fantasy adventure already cluttering up his mind. He did hope it wouldn’t over stimulate his friend. He reassured himself, it would be fine.

 

“I’ll see you later!”

 

Runt watched as his new friend left, lounging on one of the chairs.

 

“He’s fun!” The cat said out loud, toothy grin plastered across his face. But something caught their eye: the blinking, tiny little bulb. It was still flickering.

 

“…..Okay.” He caved in, grabbing it. “Fine. I’ll take *you*. It’ll serve as a good nightlight.” He rolled his eyes. With a stretch, yawn, (and groan), Runt was already on his way to his next assignment.

 

What a day.