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It had been quite a day.
So far, there was a malfunction with the warp core in engineering, a holoprogram had become sentient once again and demanded control over the replicators, medbay had been struck with a particularly bizarre strain of xenobacteria, the Vulcan ambassador on board was conducting particularly anomalous activities, and Spot somehow managed to find her way into the wall.
All in all, it was a typical work shift on the Enterprise.
The holoprogram was dealt with a prompt offering of ice cream, the xenobacteria were swiftly flushed out, and the warp core was well on it’s way towards repair. The catalyst behind these technical difficulties appeared to lie with the Vulcan ambassador– who was in fact a Romulan spy. Thanks to Lieutenant Worf, the spy was safely in the brig.
Spot still eluded Data, however.
Crouched in the Jefferies tube, he listened for the telltale vocal patterns unique to Spot, but so far, the only auditory stimuli Data could hear was the thrumming of the ship.
“Spot,” Data called out, “while I am aware you are in need of entertainment, exploring the walls of the ship is not conducive to your overall well being. Not only is it a fire hazard, but we cannot use the transporters to beam you to safety due to the warp core malfunction.”
No answer came from the walls. It was quite odd. Spot never seemed to respond to any verbal input. Felines were of course incapable of understanding language, but the mere sound of his voice should have lured her by now. Data tilted his head in thought.
‘Perhaps, a different form of input is in order.’
He nodded. Spot didn’t understand verbal commands… but she just might respond to feline communication. Data took the logical course of action.
He meowed.
It was a trill, specifically designed from feline mothers who would call out to their young. Then…
“Mrrow?”
That vocal register could only belong to one being–
‘Spot!’
Following the direction of the sound, Data meowed at different intervals. His mrrows were leading him closer, closer–
He reached a bulkhead door. Judging from the volume of her meows, Spot had to be in close proximity. Data pushed through. “Mrrow- Oh. Lieutenant Worf. I see you found my cat.”
Worf blinked, his face puffy, red, and scratched up. Spot was crouched on top of his dresser. The instant Spot saw Data, she leapt onto his head.
“I will be leaving now. I apologize for any inconvenience Spot may have caused.”
“That would be best… sir.”
Data promptly made his way out of the room, Spot still firmly planted on his head.
It had been quite a day.