Log Entry 140829.114

I couldn't sleep after that. I knew that I would have to sort out this blessed cat before I left for the Academy in just two days time. So barely an hour later, I was up and performing an in-depth survey of my quarters.
I've done it a dozen times before, but this time I rigged up a tricorder with a sophisticated sonic radar to detect any breaches in the walls. I covered every inch of the place. That included crawling around inside every cupboard and under every piece of furniture. I wasn't entirely surprised to find that the room was quite secure.
I then spent another hour checking every vent, grill and access panel to see if they were loose. They weren't, so unless Beastie has a screwdriver stashed away somewhere, there is no way she can get out through any of those.
It was about that time that my imagination started to get the better of me. I was convinced that with no possible exits to be found, it could only mean that someone must be playing tricks on me.
Was someone coming to my room and letting her out? Where they transporting her out of there? Unless, of course, she wasn't a cat at all!
Maybe she was some weird alien species that was being transported in and out of my room, spying on us all: the Earhart and her crew. Or, maybe, she had been replaced by a morphing species and wasn't Beastie at all. Or maybe I just need a bit more sleep.
Yes. The imagination definitely runs away with you when you're tired but then, even though I knew it was silly, having got the idea fixed in my head, you guessed it, I had to check it out.
Of course, Rosie thought I was crazy and almost rolled on the floor with laughter as I explained my quandary, but he was a love and ran lots of tests on Beastie including an in-depth analysis of her synaptic pathways and brain rhythm to determine that, yep, you got it, she is just a cat! A normal, bog-standard feline ... although she does have quite a high IQ for a cat! Rosie therefore suggested that because she was such a smart cat, she was probably just outfoxing me!
Hmm. Not happy at that suggestion, so I returned to my quarters and cobbled together a cat collar with various bits from a communicator badge to track the little minx.
Ha! Let's see Beastie outsmart me now!

Log Entry 140827.113

I left Starboard-7 quite late last night, fed Beastie and then snuggled up in bed with her enveloped in my arms like a teddy bear. We both fell asleep quite quickly, and the last thing I expected was to be awoken a few hours later, but I was.
As my brain stumbled out of slumber, it took me a minute to work out what had awoken me, but the insistent chiming of my door soon brought me to my senses. I looked at the clock. It was 03:17.
Groggily, I got to my feet wondering who the heck it could be, and as the bell chimed urgently, three more times in quick succession, I asked myself sarcastically what emergency came without ship wide claxons and sirens. As the door slid open, I found out and gasped.
Stood before me was T'Roc, an expression of controlled but deep irritation carved into her Klingon features and probably the worst case of bed-head I've ever witnessed. The impression was only softened by her sateen pyjamas. Kimono style, they were fuchsia pink with a lime green ivy design twisting and curling its way down the right-hand side. It had a matching green border and belt too—odd attire for a Klingon, I thought.
"Yes?" I asked timidly.
"Your bloody cat!" and she thrust a bundle of fur at me. I have no idea how I hadn't noticed the great, fluffy bundle in her arms, but I had.
"Beastie!" I screeched and then turned to stare at my bedroom door, which was where I thought she was.
"YOUR BLOODY CAT!" she hollered angrily and pushed Beastie into my arms.
Beastie looked very pleased with herself. She pirruped and purred and pushed her head hard against my chest while T'Roc stomped off, barefoot.
"Thank you!" I shouted after her meekly.
A dismissive wave of her hand told me she had heard, but how had Beastie got out? And how did she get into the captain's quarters?

Log Entry 140823.112

We arrived in Starboard-7 hotly speculating what had prompted Jarrod to dismiss us from our studies without explanation. We half expected to find something going on, but no, it was all quite normal and casual in there.
Karl was at the bar, serving drinks as always. A good number of the crew were engaged in chitchat, and Rutter was embroiled in a very serious looking game of dominoes with—of all people—T'Roc.
Rutter was scowling dreadfully as he peered at his tiles. He toyed with one, turning it over and over in his hand. Finally he knocked, unable to lay anything, to which T'Roc let out a triumphant roar and put down her last piece. Rutter grinned. I could tell he was quietly pleased that T'Roc had won—not that he would have let her win! Rutter wasn't the sort to throw a game. No, T'Roc would have won that game fair and square.
Grinning widely, T'Roc got up, slapped Rutter on the shoulder and approached the bar. She was looking so triumphant anyone would have thought she'd just won the Forcas III bat'leth tournament, not a simple game of dominoes.
"Ah!" she suddenly shouted, spotting Al and I. "Glad you could join us! Karl!" she shouted. "Drinks for the bookworms!" and then she promptly disappeared, joining some officers at another table.
Al and I, still flummoxed, went to the bar where Rutter joined us. Still curious as to why Jarrod would have been so insistent that we take a night off from our studies, I had to ask, but Rutter just shrugged, took his drink and returned to his dominoes.
"Actually, that's down to me," said a voice from behind.
I turned.
"Rosie!" I exclaimed.
He scowled furiously at me and then proceeded to order his round.
"I really do wish you wouldn't call me that," he grumbled. "Makes me feel like an acne-ridden, spotty teenager again."
A secretive smile passed over his lips as some distant memory came back to him, and Karl grinned as he delivered Rosie's drinks.
"It doesn't feel like a bad feeling from here," Karl teased. Rosie actually blushed at the Betazoid.
"How's it down to you then?" I demanded.
"Huh? Oh, yes. Well, I hadn't seen you around for a while so I asked a few questions and found out you'd been hard at it since the captain gave you the extra time off. I figured you needed some proper downtime so made a recommendation to the captain."
I couldn't interrogate further as the last of his drinks arrived and Rosie scurried off.
"What can I get you?" asked Karl.
Food was easy and I ordered, but to drink, I couldn't decide. My eyes scanned the array of bottles on the back bar as I debated.
"Surprise me," I suddenly said. Karl grinned and turned away to make me something. Meanwhile, my gaze settled upon something odd. Among the glasses on the top shelf, a little, shiny, silver dish was on display. Leaning against the wall, I could clearly see the caricature of a cat's face etched into its surface. How curious!
"What's the cat's dish for?" I asked when Karl returned.
He looked at me, puzzled.
"Feeding the cat, silly!"
"I didn't know you had a cat."
"I don't."
"Oh," I said, confused. "So who else has a cat then? I thought Beastie was the only one on board."
"So did I!" he laughed, delivered our drinks and immediately turned to his next customer. I was determined to ask more questions, but it would have to wait. My food had arrived and I was hungry. After that, I just forgot. Not to worry, I can always ask him tomorrow.

Log Entry 140816.111

Our studies have been progressing really well. With the extra time T'Roc has given us, we've been able to crack on. Yesterday evening though, Al and I had both just settled down for our next stint. I was just immersing myself into Warp Core Safety when my door chimed. We both looked up and stared at each other.
"Expecting anyone?" asked Al, but she knew from my face that I wasn't.
I answered the door and to my surprise found Jarrod on the doorstep. She smiled at me (never a good sign).
"Can I come in?" she asked.
In Jarrod terms, 'can I come in' means 'I'm coming in', so I stepped off to one side, her smile expanding unnervingly. Even Al stood up as she entered.
"No, no. Take a seat, cadet," she smiled. "You too, Jenny."
We sat like mannequins as she circled the desk looking at our work, with Al and I flashing nervous glances at each other.
What should we do? Carry on working? Invite her to join us? Did she want to discuss our progress? Had we done something wrong?
She coughed lightly, revelling in our discomfort.
"Catching up?" she asked quietly.
"Yes, thank you," we chorused.
"Jolly good, but when was the last time you did something fun or relaxing?"
Ay? What? Pardon?
Her eyes repeated the question, but Al and I just sat there, dumb.
"I thought so. Well, as they say, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, so put your books away and get yourself off to Starboard-7 for the evening. Have a couple of drinks, grab something to eat. Chill."
"Chill?" I enquired.
"Yes. Chill."
But we just sat there like idiots.
"That's an order," she said sternly, her eyes narrowing to enforce that wicked smile of hers.
Still shocked by the order, we remained glued to our seats. As she tipped her head to one side though, we suddenly fled like frightened children causing a kerfuffle in our wake. Al knocked the table and various pads hit the floor. As we scrabbled to pick them up, we banged heads. We screamed and a loud tut from Jarrod made me snort with laughter, which earned me a whack on the shoulder from Al. I squealed in mock pain.
"Are you actually going to go, or are you just going to hide under the table and hope I don't notice you?" Jarrod demanded.
"Going," I assured her.
Finally, we managed to throw the pads back onto the desk and headed to the door. It opened and Al fled out first, but I waited. Jarrod followed slowly, looking at me sceptically.
"Forgotten something?" she asked.
"I've got to make sure Beastie doesn't get out," I explained pointing to the cat.
Jarrod smiled.
"Probably a good idea," her head nodding and her whole face smiled with sarcasm.
What did she mean by that? But we didn't have time to think about it. With Beastie on the right side of the door and the door sealed, we were chivvied off to Starboard-7 giggling like school kids.

Log Entry 140803.110

Well, that was odd!
In order to complete an Academy assignment about warp technology, I decided to pick Midas's brains. With his specialist field being in propulsion, he was bound to be able to assist, so I gave Beastie a tickle under the chin and then set off down to engineering where he was stationed.
Sure enough, there he was. With the consent of his commander, he helped me unravel the finer points of warp technology that were confusing me. Indeed, at one point, I had four engineers around me merrily discussing the various aspects of warp frequencies, pulses and eddies. I found it quite difficult to follow at times as the techno-babble flew through the air like a super-charged racquetball! But I got there in the end. I thanked everybody for their help and was about to leave when Ensign Ketterick piped up, "Don't forget your cat."
What an odd thing to say?
I turned and looked at her quizzically. She pointed towards the Chief Engineer's office. Frowning with curiosity, I approached the open doorway and looked inside.
There, sitting in the middle of his desk with one leg in the air while she cleaned her tummy, was Beastie.
"What?" I exclaimed aloud and scratched my head, obviously confused.
"What's wrong?" asked Midas.
"But ... but ... but I left her in my quarters! How'd she get here?"
Midas cast me a funny look.
"She's often here," he explained.
"Yeah," added Ketterick. "I think she likes Lt Commander Logan's aftershave," and she laughed.
I screwed my face up, perplexed by the conundrum.
"But I know I left her in my quarters!"
Engineering ground to a halt as everybody stopped what they were doing to look at me.
"Well, she's here now," replied Ketterick.
"No. That's impossible! I mean..."
Midas looked deeply concerned and then smiled warmly at me.
"She must be faster on her feet than you give her credit for. She's obviously slipping past you without you knowing."
"But ..."
"Unless the vents in your quarters—"
"No, the vents are secure," I interrupted. "Trust me, bearing in mind that's how she remained undetected on the Drakonia for as long as she did, I make double sure that they're properly fixed."
"Then she must be slipping past you. The doors will not open at her command."
I sighed. He was right. That must be what was happening, but I don't see how. I always make sure she's settled and secure before I go.