Back Home to Work

[Mreh K'hal 0]

Back Home to Work

Part 1

 

Forwarding his address to Starfleet, Mreh headed down to San Francisco and his lifelong home. It was late, or more aptly quite early, so he quietly scribbled off a quick note on the temp-board in the kitchen before heading into his room. Though he'd been off at the Academy promptly after turning eighteen, and then off onto assignments after that, the space hadn't changed much in those years. Home would always be just that for the K'hal children, until one of them took over the reins. With the subconscious comfort of home in his blood, he stripped down into his boxers and crawled into bed, and then slept quickly and easily.

 

At shortly after 0800, Mreh awoke to the smells of home cooking. He ambled out to the kitchen, shrugging into a worn and faded Academy t-shirt. Walking in, he discovered his father at his customary spot at the stove, his mother at the table with a PADD filled with news stuck in front of her nose. With an easy grin, Mreh settled into the seat next to her and yawned.

 

"Well, well," Kharril said, peeking over her PADD. "Took you long enough to get back to the Alpha Quadrant, didn't it?" She asked.

 

"Oh, hush Khar," JoLan said as he stirred. "It's good to see you, son, and whole."

 

"Mom, dad," Mreh said. "It's nice to be back, though I don't know how long it'll last. I figure Starfleet will have my new orders sent in today, now that the Excal is on its way off to be rubble and parts."

 

"Yes, I'm sure they'll have it in shortly," Kharril said, a knowing glint sparkling in her eye. "So, I hear you ditched your medical degree to become a hot-shot pilot."

 

"There's never been anything wrong with your hearing," Mreh muttered, earning himself a cuff on the head. "I still have the degree, mother. I just don't have the desire... the will to do it any more. And it's not just being a pilot, it's operations and science as well."

 

"All those years studying, training, sweating in a residency, out the window," she replied. "Seems like a waste."

 

"Oh, it was good experience, both for me personally and professionally," Mreh countered. "In fact, it gives me an advantage. Normally, your average helmsman would fly the ship, park it in orbit, and have to twiddle one's fingers while the away teams are below. Since I have the added medical, operations, and science training, I can be included in away teams."

 

"See, Khar, that's just what I told you," JoLan said. His long, trim frame and dashing looks seemed at odds with wearing an apron, fussing with a home-cooked meal, but he had learned it from his own mother, and was quite good in the kitchen. "Don't let your mother's nagging wear on you, Mreh."

 

"You've managed to deal with it for twenty years, I think I can handle it for a morning," Mreh responded, earning yet another cuff from his mother, though a playful one.

 

They continued trading barbs through the meal, as it was Kharril's best way to establish the well-being of her child. Satisfied with the answers, as well as with breakfast, she laid a paw over her stomach as they sat back from the wrapped chicken burritos.

 

"I suppose you'll manage," she said. "Though if you..." She was obliged to stop as the computer interrupted.

 

"Incoming data transmission for K'hal, Lieutenant Junior Grade Mreh from Starfleet Personnel," it stated. Jumping up, Mreh pounced over to the console and pulled up his orders.

 

Upon seeing "Report to Starfleet Medical at 0800 hours," Mreh's stomach contracted. Was he being pressed back into service as a doctor? He skipped over the bureaucratic gibberish to find his assignment, and sighed in relief. He'd be flying shuttles, at least, though it seemed a hell of a step down from flying an Akira or Sovereign, as his last assignments had been. Looking for the assignment duration, he saw it was for four months. He could handle that. Looking back, he saw his mother grinning.

 

"Definitely nothing wrong with your hearing," he said. "How many liters of brandy did you have to give away to swing getting me attached to SFM?" He asked.

 

"A few," she said. "Don't snarl, either, young man," she warned in that tone mothers have. "After having you off in the Gamma for all of that time, incommunicado, I wasn't going to have you off to the edges of the galaxy right away if I could manage it. I'm not sure what Starfleet has in mind for all of you from Excalibur, but most of the officers were given posts of somewhere within three months to a year, rather than a more permanent posting. I figured I might as well get you near to home for a while."

 

"Not to mention giving me an assignment where I can't hot dog at the stick, either. Flying ambulatories. You're slick," Mreh said with a wry smile and a swing of the tail. He didn't mind, really, though it was slightly galling to have your mother still manipulating behind the scenes at his age. Settling back into a chair at the table, he looked over at his father. "Did you know?"

 

"Nope," JoLan said easily. "Do I ever?" The humor glinted in his eyes.

 

"If you'd get your head out of the clouds, you might," Kharril stated.

 

"Wouldn't that be getting my head out of nebulae?" Not one to hoard her cuffs, she gave JoLan one. Smirking over at his boy, he took a sip of his juice. "And people wonder why all of the K'hal men have hard heads."

 

Mreh laughed, and so did Kharril.

 

***

 

With the rest of the day off, Mreh headed over to the Academy to look up his youngest brother Rhan. Having been back to the Academy only a few times since graduating, and that a few years back, Mreh was struck once again by how it never seemed to change. Every square meter was still pristine, and ruthlessly organized. Packs of freshmen were still being run about in packs, upperclassmen still hurried from one point to another to finish their many assignments. Security also remained visibly high, with gold shirts patrolling or guarding the exteriors of the higher profile buildings. Peace, it seemed, was still a ways off here. Heading to one of the blocky dormitories, Mreh sighed. He didn't miss it a bit.

 

After clearing through security, he made his way up to the third floor and his brother's room. The door was open as he arrived, and music softly wafted out of the room. Sticking his head in the doorway, Mreh saw his brother Rhan and his Trill roommate huddled together over a desk. With a grin, Mreh knocked on the doorframe.

 

"Is this a bad time?" He asked.

 

Both cadets turned back, and as the Trill didn't seem to be surprised to see a Caitian at the door, Mreh figured that he was used to Rhan's family dropping by unannounced. His brother, grinning like the proverbial fool, jumped out of the chair and pounced over to the door.

 

"Mreh, you made it!" Rhan said before heartily embracing his brother, slapping his paws soundly against his brother's back. "You said you didn't know if you could make it by before you got your orders."

 

"I couldn't," Mreh conceded. "Seeing as my orders will leave me here in San Francisco for four months, it wasn't a problem, though." Grinning, he looked his brother over. "Finally got that baby fat off you, I see."

 

"Yeah, I'm a lean, mean Operations machine now," Rhan said. "You're going to be around here for a while, eh? Where'd you get posted?"

 

"Flying the ambulance shuttles to and from Starfleet Medical."

 

"Heh," Rhan gruffed. "Still can't picture you out of your medical blues and on the bridge."

 

"Oh, on the bridge, yes. I'm still wearing the blues though," Mreh said with a laugh. "I was also attatched to Sci-Ops, so I figured I could keep them. I'm sure the people at SFM will feel right at home."

 

They settled together on Rhan's bed while the Trill excused himself and left the room with a friendly wave to the Caitian brothers. Looking around the cube, Mreh noted that they were a clean and organized duo even according to Academy standards.

 

"What about after?" Rhan asked. "Are you planning on staying a pilot?"

 

"Yes," Mreh said without hesitation. "I figure I'll still have to treat a patient or two in emergencies, but I'm done being a full time doctor. I'll do what I can to maintain the license for now, though. Being a utility player never hurt anyone's chances in Starfleet." Looking at his brother's dresser, he saw a collection of small frames filled with holo-photos. Most were of the K'hals, and Mreh was unsurprised to see himself featured prominently. His baby brother had always looked up to him as much as they both had looked up to their father. There was, however, a picture of a pretty red-headed woman also prominently displayed. "Who's she?" He asked.

 

"Kara," Rhan responded, with dreaminess in his eyes and breathless lustiness in his voice. "She's in my year, a navigation and command track."

 

"Your girlfriend," Mreh said, a statement more than question.

 

"Yeah."

 

"Hmm," Mreh murmured, noticing the rather smug happiness in that one "yeah." Looking at his brother, a young man now and not the often hyperactive and occasionally annoying kitten he last saw, Mreh sighed. "Have you told our parents about her?" He queried.

 

"Yeah, I did," Rhan said. "Dad just did what you did, study me for a minute and then sigh. Mother grilled me for two hours before I stormed off. Yes, we've seen each other since," Rhan said before Mreh could ask. "Yes, mother and I are speaking, and no, she still doesn't seem happy about it."

 

"Human, your Kara?"

 

"Half. The other half is Risan," Rhan said with a wiggle of his brows.

 

"Do you..." Mreh shook his head. "I'm not going to interrogate you. Mom does that well enough for the rest of us. One question, and one question only: do you love her?"

 

"Of course I love mom, even if she is a pain in the tail," Rhan said.

 

"Rhan," Mreh said wearily.

 

"Yeah, I love Kara," Rhan said with a wistful sigh. "I'm working up to asking her to marry me."

 

"Good luck," Mreh said, rubbing Rhan's head with a paw. "Mom will still be disappointed, but she'll get over it. She just wants barrels of grandkittens."

 

"Well, maybe you could work on that." Rhan grinned over at his brother. "Give her some yourself to fend her off, and maybe work a little medical magic."

 

"First might happen sooner than the second," Mreh said. He wasn't going to tell him about JoNs yet, as he wasn't quite sure what to make of the torn-eared security woman himself, yet, other than basic chemistry. "For my little brother, though, I can poke around, see what I can find about the chances of making that mix and match fertile."

 

"I can always count on you, Mreh. You'll find a way."

 

***

 

After spending the morning and lunch with Rhan, Mreh managed to snag a shuttle and fly over to Europe to visit his sister in Oxford. She was the black cat of the family, having decided to forego Starfleet for civilian life. Her home near the university was stylishly appointed, and her gaggle of roommates stylishly decorated themselves. They spent a good portion of his afternoon walking and talking around the English countryside, discussing their plans for life and their parents, and of course Rhan's imminent engagement with a non-Caitian.

 

They dined together at a posh little restaurant in the city before he was obliged to return to San Francsico with the shuttle. He had managed to see all of his family except his oldest younger brother, Hakran, who was in deep space on the Copernicus. Other than his mother's prickly way of dealing with her kittens scattering to the winds, he was happy with how they were. His experiences with the enemies in the Gamma Quadrant had soured him a bit, but he figured this stint on Earth so near his family would help sweeten the pot once again.

 

Starting tomorrow morning, he'd get started.

 

(To Be Continued...)