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?

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