The auxiliary tactical systems bay aboard the USS Brawley was bathed in a low, golden light. The hum of internal circuitry blended with the soft whir of environmental controls. It was the quiet heartbeat of a starship in her evening hours.

Lieutenant Junior Grade M’Row crouched low beside an open access panel. His striped tail curled lazily behind him as he worked. His fur caught the light in soft waves of gold and russet. The scent of warmed alloys and ionized air filled the space around him.

M’Row guided a slim tricorder in one hand while his other carefully repositioned a delicate assembly of micro-optical fibers. The phaser control interlink node lay before him like a puzzle half-solved. Gleaming conduits waited for his feline touch.

Footsteps approached, light and quick.

“You know, sir,” came the familiar, teasing voice of Ensign Kim Jung-soo, “you’re absolutely adorable when you’re concentrating.”

M’Row didn’t look up immediately. The tawny cat let the Ensign’s words hang. His ears swiveled toward her first, flicking in faint amusement. When he finally turned his head, a sharp-toothed smile pulled across his muzzle.

“Adorable, Ensign?” His voice was a velvet purr. “Flattery is the very breath of life for a Caitian. Continue.” His eyes studied her, right one deep blue, left one falling between purple and red.

Jung-soo grinned and set her toolkit down with a soft clink. She knelt beside him, brushing a strand of brown hair from her forehead.

“Toolkit ready,” she said in a playfully formal tone.

M’Row chuckled a low, resonant sound. “Good. You’re going to need it.”

He tapped a claw gently against the open panel. “We have three main faults to address before this tactical grid is worth its salt. The phaser interlink node is showing a variance of point-three-four microns across its optical feed. “Also,” he paused, tail flicking with satisfaction. “The targeting sensor array is drunk. At least two degrees out of alignment. Possibly more if you trust shipboard rumors.”

Kim nodded, smiling at his phrasing. “Understood, sir. What’s first?”

M’Row turned back to the panel. “The node. Always the node. No point having firepower if you can’t trust the linkages.” He offered her a sharp, warm glance. “Pass me the quantum calibrator, please..”

Kim handed him the tool without comment. Her cheeks pinked faintly as she studied his passion for the work.

M’Row took the calibrator between two claw-tipped fingers and began the first delicate step.

“Diagnostic sequence start,” he murmured gutturally. The tricorder chirped in response.

The first repair step was critical. They had to realign the optical fibers within the phaser control interlink node. The fibers had shifted following initial repairs of the Vaadwaur attack.

The Caitian steadied his hand. Using the quantum flux calibrator, he tuned the micro-optical conduits by exactly 0.002 microns per second. It required slow, precise movement. M’Row nudged each strand into place one at a time. He watched the tricorder’s readings drop closer to zero variance after each adjustment.

“Hand me the microfusion stabilizer next,” he called smoothly. Colorful eyes peered up at her through the fringe of fur surrounding his face.

Jung-soo scrambled for the tool and placed it into his waiting palm. Her hand brushed his furry paw during the exchange.

With the stabilizer, M’Row secured the realigned conduits. A gentle hiss escaped the panel as the stabilizing field took hold.

“Good,” he rumbled. “She’s purring like a kitten in the starlight.”

Kim laughed and bit her lip. “That’s… definitely the most vivid report I’ve heard.”

He smirked, flashing fangs. “You’ll learn, Ensign. Starfleet reports are dry because officers forget ships are living things. Feel the Brawley’s heartbeat. She’ll tell you everything you need to know.”

With the first fault corrected, M’Row moved to the next task. “This one’s going to be tedious,” he warned. “Delicate too. Just like grooming a particularly moody feline, I’d say.”

Kim cocked an eyebrow. “I’ll take your word for it.” She sounded surprised.

“You’ll learn,” he said warmly.

M’Row pulled up a holographic display of the targeting sensor calibration matrix. The weapon arrays’ external targeting sensors are still misaligned from gravimetric shear caused during the last encounter. This misalignment means that targeting algorithms are now compensating manually in dangerous fashion.

“We need to recalibrate the parabolic sensor grid first,” Lt. JG M’Row said. “Manually. Computer assistance will only create a recursive error.”

He initiated the targeting recalibration routine.

Step one was to synchronize the grid’s phase discriminators with the main tactical targeting matrix. M’Row and Jung-soo used twin tricorders, coordinating adjustments to the discriminator output by nanoseconds at a time.

Step two was to fine-tune the lateral sensor relay. They had to ensure that the azimuth control fields aligned precisely within a two-arcsecond deviation.

“This would go a lot faster,” Kim muttered under her breath as she adjusted a fine-tuning knob, “if Starfleet issued us three hands.”

M’Row’s grin was predatory. “You’ll just have to borrow mine.”

She flushed but didn’t lose her focus.

Step three involved a series of zero-target drift simulations designed to ensure stability. M’Row launched a series of simulated torpedo locks on phantom targets, while Kim monitored the feedback for any residual drift.

Target lock acquired. Zero drift detected. Calibration complete.

They stepped back from the panels together. Sighs escaped their lips at the same moment.

“Well, sir,” Ensign Kim said as she wiped her brow. “that’s everything on the list.”

M’Row straightened to his elegant height of 5’7, just 2 inches taller than Jung-soo. His shoulders rolled back in satisfaction, tail swaying lazily behind him.

“You did well, Ensign Kim. Quick thinking, steady hands… and you take compliments almost as gracefully as you take orders.” His tone was lazy, purring, unmistakably teasing.

Kim ducked her head and smiled. “Thank you, sir.”

M’Row stepped closer, voice raising excitedly. “If you want a real test of skill… you should try working on the forward torpedo launchers. The hydraulics there are even more temperamental. Like a Caitian bathing in a river.”

She looked up at him, laughing openly now. “I’ll add it to my list.”

He winked slow and deliberately. “See that you do.”

The diagnostic console chimed, interrupting the moment. Final system checks displayed all systems as green. Full tactical readiness had been restored.

“Well, darling,” M’Row said, sweeping an arm toward the door with theatrical flair, “our work here is done. Shall we?”

Kim gathered her tools, still grinning as they left the bay together. Today was surely a welcome change from security drills.