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Mreh K'hal

K'hal Call

Fresh from a workout of his hybrid Caitian Morahk'ta/Terran Tai Chi regimen, Rhan lounged upon his spiffily made up bed in the room he shared with fellow operations guru Ensign Gene Thurman. The room was small and sparse, but each occupant had forcefully stamped what personality they could in the shared space.

 

For the Caitian it was with rich colors and bold angles, along with various holophotos of his family. The human's side was much more eclectic, with various reproductions of old posters from various late 20th to mid 21st Century science-fiction entertainment. Most prominently displayed was a rather distinct looking young woman in an outfit an Orion slave girl would feel right at home in as she stood in front of a creature Rhan likened to a an evil, oversized (and overweight) Trill symbiont. The title of it was Star Wars The Return of the Jedi. Whatever that was. The young Cait had thus far steadfastly refused invitations to watch it.

 

Moments after washing up from his workout he received a notice of an incoming transmission from home. He waited while the subspace communique from Earth was relayed through, rolling his eyes at the little spinning waiting indicator beneath the same ol' screen indicator was displayed on the PADD he transferred the call to. Starfleet, he thought, could really use someone to spruce up the LCARS GUI one of these days.

 

It was an unexpected but welcome call, as his eldest brother Mreh had always been a humorous but steadying influence on Rhan during his formative years. Hakran had always been the rival, and being the biggest of the siblings, the one more likely to pounce on the unwary. His sister Mren, when not busy studying, was far too involved in her own social life to want anything to do with her young brother.

 

Finally that annoying little circle stopped spinning and the screen popped up to show the elder K'hal offspring grinning between his paws. Mreh's jet-black hair had recently been tidied up and cropped from the unruly mess he usually kept it in, yet it still seemed to want to fall over his eyes.

 

"I heard through the grapevine that the Excalibur just finished a mission, and you're still alive!"

 

"Not through lack of effort on other people's part," Rhan replied, rolling his eyes. "I really thought you had been kidding when it came to this ship's reputation."

 

"If only that were true," Mreh said. "I wouldn't have to keep visiting sickbay for tune-ups on my back." The older brother narrowed his eyes, looking over his brother's image. "Whatever it was, looks like it took some of the green off of you."

 

"Like I was ever that green," Rhan responded. "I knew better than anyone what it meant to join Starfleet and then take starship duty after graduation from the Academy."

 

"True, but it's still not the same, Bro. But I'm glad you made it through your first one without leaving any pieces behind... You didn't leave any pieces behind, right?" Mreh asked.

 

"Everything is still attached," Rhan said with a chuckle. "Maybe some of my internal organs are flatter than they were before I started, but that's about it."

 

"Oh?"

 

"Chief Science officer decided to use me as a bouncy castle from about 3 meters up," Rhan replied, speaking of course of Ithene's rather ungraceful landing. "She's heavier than she looks."

 

"Typical," Mreh said after a sharp laugh. "Though what did I tell you about physical intimacy with senior officers."

 

"Hah, as if. She's not nearly furry enough, though I suspect part of that is regular shaving, but otherwise she is so not my type. Weird as hell for a department head though," Rhan said, shrugging at the thought. "Seems to actually know her stuff, but definitely not your run of the mill officer, she's very... familiar."

 

"Sounds like someone else I know," Mreh replied with a pointed glance through his viewer. "But that's the problem with being born with a pip on your ass. You're just as comfortable around a strange admiral as you are with Grams."

 

"I'm probably more comfortable with strange admirals, had those over for dinner more often than Grams visited," Rhan corrected.

 

Mreh shook his head, though couldn't conceal the smirk.

 

"So what are you doing back on Earth, anyway?" Rhan asked his brother.

 

"Hippocrates is in Spacedock for a minor overhaul to the cargo bays. Which will be good, should be able to carry more medical supplies so we don't have to drive all over the quadrant picking them up," Mreh replied. "Won't take long, but we'll get a few days leave out of it."

 

"I'm sure Dad's thrilled to see you, and I'm sure Mom's thrilled to have a chance to corner you on the prospect of grandkittens." Rhan grinned at his brother's defeated sigh.

 

"You'd think she'd be too busy to think about that with all the expansions they're doing down at Medical, trying to keep the facility secure with all the construction going on. But no. I'd barely materialized on the front stoop when the door swung open and she looked around to see if I'd brought a girl home." Mreh's bemusement seemed secondary to his resignation.

 

"That's what you get for being born first."

 

"Yeah," Mreh agreed. "But your time is coming, don't think you're immune."

 

"I could always donate," Rhan said with a laugh. "Then tell her there are potentially dozens of little Rhans running around... somewhere."

 

"She'd tie you upside down by the tail from the ceiling," Mreh warned.

 

"If things hold true to form on this ship," Rhan said, "I might already be used to that."

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