MD01: Chinese Proverbs

Posted on 07 Feb 2020 @ 12:37am by Lieutenant Talrian Bran & Petty Officer 2nd Class Hunter Kawolski

2,672 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Changing Faces
Location: Odin

"Debrief in two hours," Talrian said as he came down the ramp of the shuttle, returned to the Odin's bay. The three security officers were already waiting, their packs slung over a shoulder and filled with items they'd brought back from the station. Except for Kawolski, whose items were divided up among the other two because his pack was a bit more specialized and didn't have the same amount of room. "We'll go over the individual reports to collate a single report to the captain."

He didn't wait long past their response to his orders before he turned away, wanting to head back to his quarters and change out of his uniform and have some downtime. He found Solaris Station much more comfortable environs than the Odin. Despite the larger number of people that populated the station, it was...martial. There were things about the Alliance that caused him great concern - the sight of that last squad remained forefront in his thoughts - there were a great many things about it that spoke to him as a Marine.

In that the Alliance wasn't bipolar in their intentions - wanting to enjoy the benefits that came with a military mindset but trying to hide it under a thin and cracked facade of "science" and "exploration". The history of Starfleet has long been a military history, yet they continue to have their problems because they refused to embrace the simplism that a military mindset brought.

As he made his way to the bay doors, he worked to supress a smile. Listening to the three chatter among themselves it seemed that Kawolski set aside his deep and abiding hatred of his new assignment. To be fair, Talrian reminded himself, Kawolski seemed to set aside his hatred of working for him.

"Hey, Lieutenant," Johnson called after him. "You think we can get a few more of these training aids to bring back to the ship?"

Talrian stopped and was about to answer that he didn't think the Alliance would continue handing them free money forever but he was prevented by the chirping of his commbadge. Automatically he hit the link and opened the channel.

Lieutenant Bran, this is Control. You're being requested in crew quarters section J Alpha 3. Team is onsite and will give further.

"Acknowledged, on my way," Talrian said and closed the channel. Exasperated at the interruption to his plans and that it happened as soon as they returned. It was almost as if the galaxy hated him. "Two hours," he said to the others.

[Crew Quarters J Alpha 3]

"Lieutenant," Bakkar said, his muscular bulk taking up a large section of the hallway in front of the door leading to a junior officer's quarters. He seemed relaxed if not exasperated. Some others in gold trim were also standing nearby and seemed just as bored and exasperated. "This is an Ops crew tasked with clearing out personal effects from quarters assigned to those among the dead and missing." One thing about Bakkar, he wasn't about to mince about what he said. Probably why he was one of the first in the department that Talrian trusted. "But this particular set of quarters was assigned to a member of the Engineering department. A computer technician. She reprogrammed the door locks to resist normal override attempts."

Talrian listened to the report with a growing sense of irritation. This cleanup wasn't a matter of security so why were they here?

Bakkar must have sensed the unspoken question, or correctly intepreted the look on Talrian's face because he continued. "They tell me that as the Security Chief, you can override the modifications."

"That's it?" Talrian asked, astounded by the simplicity of the request. "Just unlock the door?"

"Yes, sir," Bakkar said, with a slight eyeroll.

Talrian shrugged and smiled. "Kawolski finished his report on the other matter?" he asked as he went to the door.

"Almost, he wanted to consult with the other Kawolski before he finalized it. Said he had some questions the medic could answer."

Talrian gave his command code and ordered the ship to override the locks on the door. The only response was a beep and a light on the door control panel switched from red to green. Talrian side stepped and the door slid open. The room inside brightened as the door opened. The air inside tasted stale and old, understandable for a room sealed behind a door for days.

"You just come in and take everything out?" Talrian asked, wondering why it seemed so hard for someone to come by and remove the useless and annoying decorations that were part of his quarters. Not that he'd complained, he knew there were still areas of the ship that had to be sanitized so replacement crew could occupy them without reminders of why they were replacements.

"Yes," one of the Ops crewmen said as they began moving storage boxes into the room. "Then we-"

He stopped talking as Talrian held up a hand and closed it into a fist, his head cocked to the side. There was...there had been a sound. Something low and...desperate? Bakkar moved to the side, angling in as well as Talrian but not so close they made an easy kill zone. Talrian pulled out his sidearm and brought it up while pulling down the clear lenses. The instant connection between the scanners built into the sidearm and the HUD in the lenses flared to life. "Over there," Talrian whispered, moving toward the couch.

Bakkar gave him a look and Talrian nodded. The large security officer grabbed a side of the couch and in what seemed an effortless motion, moved the couch to the side. Then he knelt and reached to the ground. The Ops crew moved in closer, one tapping at a PaDD.

"She registered onboard pet," the man said.

Bakkar stood, cradling the tabby cat in the crook of one big arm. "I don't think her kittens survived," he said, indicating the small, furry bodies in his other hand. "But I'll take them to Medical anyway see if there is a vet there."

"Go ahead," Talrian said. He'd seen Earth cats before but never really this close. He hadn't had a pet since he'd left Trill to join the Corps but...no, that was his first host that had the dog. Not him. The memories of it enveloped him for a moment, another instance where Bran tried to assert dominance in their joined being. Another moment of profound grief and loss as he remembered the last days of that dog but...they were memories from his first host. Not his but...it affected him the same.

"We need to get started," Ops said.

"Yes," Talrian said, blinking away the blurring of the world around him. "Okay." He turned to leave but something caught his gaze. He moved over and shoved aside the couch again and knelt. A small, fuzzy body with a triangular head and dark blue eyes turning up to him. There was a small sound emanating from it. Small, weak and fading. "Move out of the way!" Talrian ordered, cupping the small thing in his hand. He expected some warmth to it, but it seemed cold. If not for the weak mewl it made, Talrian would have felt it was just as dead as the other two. "Scan the room, see if there are more that might still be alive," he said as he shoved his way out of the room and into the hall.

"Computer," he snapped, turning toward the turbolift. "Alert the ship's animal doctor to a medical emergency."

"The Odin does not currently have a veterinarian assigned."

Talrian stopped just short of the turbolift, frowning. He held the small thing against his chest, his hand curled around it. How long had it gone without food? Water? It was cold. He willed warmth into it as he moved forward toward the turbolift. The thing was too cold. He ordered the turbolift to take him to his quarters. Ever since his joining his hands and feet would fluctuate between just below normal to, at times, painfully cold. He had warming socks and gloves that he would use on those occasions.

He could use the socks or gloves to help warm the small body. It mewled again, trying to weakly lift its head.

"Petty Officer Kawolski," he growled into the commbadge, "report to my quarters, ASAP." He rushed out of the turbolift and moved toward his quarters at just under a jog. How long since it was able to eat? The other cat, which he assumed now to be the mother, seemed weak herself. Was she able to produce milk for the babies? The room where they found it was average temperature so he didn't think it was an environmental issue. When had the science officer died? In the original slingshot into the past? How long were they left alone?

He went directly to his bedchamber and pulled open the drawer where he kept his socks. All the while he kept his fist closed tight, but not too tight, around the kitten, trying to determine if it was just wishful thinking or if it was getting warmed. He activated the heating element then rolled the socks around the kitten. The kitten mewled again, one small paw pushing against the sock fabric.

"Lieutenant?" he heard coming from the corridor.

"Kawolski!" Talrian said, standing and moving to the common area. "Here, take this and...make it better."

"Lieutenant?" Kawolski asked, at first only seeing a roll of black fabric about the size of a fist. Then, as he saw what was rolled up inside of it. "Lieutenant, I'm not a vet. I don't really know anything about doctoring animals. Well, not anything more than we learn on my colony. It looks hungry, though, but too small to be on regular food. Where's the mother?"

"Bakkar took her to Medical, with two others that were already dead. I don't know if there were others, I told the Ops crew to scan the room." He realized none of this must have made much sense to the young petty officer, but that wasn't a concern. "You said you learned something back home?"

Kawolski nodded. "Not much but, sometimes babies are abandoned or their mothers are killed before it's time for them to be weaned." He pulled up his PaDD. "It can't be an unknown in Starfleet. Not with all the attacks and dangers of space."

"What are you looking for?" Talrian asked, unconsciously cradling the kitten against his body again.

"Formula," Kawolski answered as he skimmed the data. "The replicator must have...here we go." He turned to the Lieutenant's replicator and ordered up the formula. A small syringe device appeared full of a creamy white liquid. He picked it up and reached out to take the bundle. He held the syringe between his fingers, judging the temperature of the liquid. It wouldn't do if it were too hot and the kitten might not try for it if it were too cold. But it seemed to be okay. Cradling the small tabby kitten he gently depressed the plunger, releasing a small amount of the formula and held it near the kitten.

Which didn't seem to care much for it. "C'mon, little bit," Kawolski muttered.

Talrian watched the medic trying to feed the kitten from a syringe but it didn't seem to want to eat. "Why doesn't it eat?" he asked.

"It's not the same as its mother's milk," Kawolski answered. "It's strange and she doesn't know it's food."

"It's a girl?" Talrian asked, staring, willing the kitten to eat. He'd order it to eat if he felt it had the discipline to follow orders.

Kawolski shrugged as he put the tip to the kitten's mouth. The blue eyes seemed dazed and unfocused but it still managed to give a mewl of outrage at the indignity. But a small, pink tongue came out. Then flicked out again. Kawolski touched another drop of formula to its small mouth. It seemed more interested and even moved its head toward the syringe now. Finding it, it licked at the tip in earnest.

"Okay, Lieutenant, watch," Kawolski said. "This is the plunger, you don't want to press too hard but do want to make it consistent. Too much and it'll just make a mess and be a waste. Too little and her hungry little tummy won't get full."

Talrian's eyes snapped up to find the young petty officer looking at him. "Why would I need to know that?" he demanded, squaring his shoulders.

"You'll want to know how to feed," Kawolski said as he turned the kitten onto it's back, "him."

"Why would I need to know that? You've got experience, you're the medic you can-"

"No, sir," Kawolski said, with maybe a little too much joy. "I'm in crew quarters with three others, remember? No room for another. Plus, my workload doesn't lend itself to breaking away to keep to a feeding schedule. And," he smiled, "ancient Chinese proverb: save a kitten's life and you're responsible for it."

"I'm not keeping that thing," Talrian said, shaking his head. "I don't have pets."

"Which is good," Kawolski said, "no dog to try to eat it or another cat to get upset." He held the bundle back to Talrian and set the syringe on the table. The kitten mewled again, this time demanding and insistent. It's head trembled as it moved back and forth, searching for the food.

"I'm not-"

"You saved it, Lieutenant," Kawolski said. "It's your responsibility." He stepped closer, holding the kitten toward him still. It mewled again, again it seemed demanding. One paw freed itself and pushed against the fabric.

"Petty Officer," Talrian began.

"No, sir," Kawolski stated. "You can change my orders, you can issue many orders. But you cannot legally order me to accept a pet." He set the bundle of socks on the table next to the syringe. "And I can disobey illegal orders. I've sent the formula pattern to your PaDD so you can replicate more. I suggest you look up a feeding schedule for a..." he took a breath "four to five week kitten."

"Petty Officer," Talrian said, knowing he was right. He looked down at the striped face though, the dark blue eyes searching as it sniffed the air around it. Looking, Talrian presumed, for the food source. He sighed. "Thank you for your help," he replied tersely as he picked up the syringe then the kitten. He felt the warmth from the heating element in the socks. That was at least something.

"Just a little pressure," Kawolski said, watching as Talrian dispensed a few drops and the kitten lapped at it. Talrian only nodded, trying to keep the tip of the syringe near to where the kitten could get to the food. Kawolski waited another few minutes, the time passing in silence except for the sounds by the kitten lapping at the formula. Then, as Talrian moved toward the chair to sit, Kawolski took his leave.

"Computer," Talrian said as the door closed. "Scan the holographic database for a veterinarian." He didn't know if it were common throughout the ship these days, but his quarters had holotransmitters built in, to help create different spaces in the dining area. But, holotransmitters weren't choosy about what they projected. It maybe designed so that he could take breakfast overlooking the Alps, or pretend to have a picnic on the beach, but it could just as easily call up a holodeck character. If he was going to be successful at keeping this thing alive until it could be handed off to someone to take care of it, he would need some professional help.

He shifted the bundle to a more comfortable position as he shifted in the chair. The little thing was pawing at the fabric, 'kneading' at it, while it continued to lick hungrily at the formula from the end of the syringe.

 

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