CHAPTER 11

"Do not seek to follow in the footsteps of the wise. Seek what they sought."

- Matsuo Basho

MCKINLEY STATION, EARTH ORBIT

MAY 2359

Fifteen year-old Shard was in heaven – literally; At least from a classical point of view. He was walking down the corridor that led from McKinley Station's main spaces to the docking ring. His parents, in Starfleet uniform, walked just ahead of him. His head was on a swivel, tracking from the spectacular views of Earth to his parents, to the interior of the station to ... Everything! The last time had had been in space had been aboard a freighter and he had very few chances to see much; especially not Earth itself. And much of his memories from that time had been lost or confused in the intervening years.

Carol turned her head and reminded her son, "Now, Shard, remember, we'll be on duty most of the time during this little trip, all right? You'll be expected to behave."

"Yes, Mom. I promise. Will there be windows? I can catch any rats too! I was really good at that the one time I was on a space ship. I'm a little bigger now though, of course."

Carol thought to herself, "What is with this kid and rats?!" but it was a humorous thought. "Yes, and no." she chuckled. "The Black Forest doesn't exactly have a problem with rodents; She's not a freighter. And there are windows all over."

Josef smiled as well. "You're not going to be expected to work off your passage, Shard. We were lucky that our Reserve obligation time was short this year and that it coincided with your school break. And it'll be good for you to see how Starfleet works on a day-to-day basis. Well, at least for one two week survey mission."

Carol contributed "And it's nice that we can do it at the same time this year, Josef. And Shard, it'll be good especially if you're still thinking of trying for the Academy."

Still walking along, Josef commented "Though, son, I'd still prefer to see you go through Cambridge or Edinburgh and get your MD first, then go through the Academy. And only then if it's truly something you want to do. The Academy entrance exam is very, very difficult. Some people study their entire lives to prepare for it and still don't make it. And there's more to it than just academics. There's physical and psychological and any number of other things as well."

Shard thought about that for a few paces. "I've learned a lot in the last few years, Dad. You've both taught me so much more than just what they teach in school, plus what I've learned on my own. And yes, it's what I want to do. You've shown me it's important to serve others, to give back, and to learn and explore at the same time. I want to be like you both. It's the right thing to do."

Carol and Josef smiled at each other and held hands as they walked. Raising Shard had been a treat. There was little left of the shattered, beaten, starved creature Josef had brought home. Instead, a nearly five foot tall, well-muscled and distinctively marked young man walked along behind them, his every feature a study in curiosity and a readiness to make his mark in the galaxy.

USS BLACK FOREST, ALPHA QUADRANT, UNDER WAY

JUNE 2359

The turbo-lift doors split open in front of him and Shard stepped out onto the Oberth-Class starship's bridge. With only a shade of the shyness and hesitation he had before his adoption, Shard looked at the ship's Captain, a human named Commander Holiday. The man looked at Shard – almost glaring.

"So. You're the one responsible." he stated.

Shard took a quick glance at each of his parents, standing easily behind the Captain's central chair. No one looked angry, and the scents on the bridge didn't seem like he was in trouble. But he was going to mind his manners. He knew a fair amount about Starfleet discipline and protocols from his parents and from reading the manuals that they had. He came to attention, locked his eyes forward and said, "Responsible for what, sir?"

'Happy Jack' Holiday thought to himself, "All right, boy. Not bad. Let's see how you do with a little more...personal attention." He stood up, walked over to the boy and got chest-to-nose with the foot-and-more-shorter Dosadi. He looked down at him, inspecting him, then slowly walked around him, looking for any flaw. Of course, since the kid was wearing civilian clothing – a pair of battle dress pants and a sleeveless snug t-shirt, there wasn't anything he could really find wrong. He had even remembered to pull on the soft, leather boots that felinoids preferred; At least when they couldn't get away with bare feet. "So. You deny it then?" he asked sternly.

They were a week into their mission and Shard couldn't think of anything he'd done to get in trouble. He'd been allowed to help his parents out in the small ship's Sick Bay, but he hadn't done anything wrong. They didn't look like they were in trouble. What was he asking? "I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be responsible for, sir?" He asked, eyes still locked on the big, main view-screen. The scents coming from the rest of the bridge crew were very up-beat. Was he teasing?

Holiday took a deep breath and glowered down. The kid was doing well maintaining a military bearing even though he was completely confused. "For costing me two of my best officers!"

Shard tried to think quickly. Had something he'd done in Sick Bay gone wrong?

"And almost my entire sick bay staff!" And then he laughed. "They were supposed to go Reserve for a year to try for a baby, play country doctor for a while, then come back to duty. Spend the next five years raising the child aboard, then go to the Reserves. Instead, they skip the whole baby phase and go right to a little boy."

Now Shard got it. He was teasing him. Humor, he could do. "Aye, sir! My parents have always been very efficient. No sense wasting time when you can get a head start!"

Holiday lost it and burst out with a loud laugh. "Not bad, kid. What's your name?"

"Shard, sir."

"I understand you've been helping out down in Sick Bay?"

"Aye, sir. I've helped both of my parents out on calls for years. I'm especially good with the younger children."

He glanced over his shoulder, "That true, Lieutenants?"

His father answered, "Yes, sir. He's a fair hand with a wound sealer too, under direction."

"Certification?" he asked Josef.

"EMT-B, sir. Just finished it six months ago, Dosadi mature faster than humans, he's in a bit of a grey area. He's almost an adult in their culture, age-wise."

"Well, we can't have a civilian running about the ship performing duties aboard!" That was a lie, of course. Civilians – contractors – worked aboard Starfleet vessels fairly commonly. "Shard, for the next week, I grant you a brevet rank of Crewman. That is, if you're interested in taking a swing at it. I'll rate you a Corpsman's Mate and let you get some actual experience in Starfleet. Your parents have told me that you're angling for a slot at the Academy. This will help with that."

Shard's spine snapped even straighter. "Yes, SIR!"

"You'll be expected to adhere to all regulations and discipline, though Shard. Just like any other crewman. You ready for that?"

"Yes, SIR!"

"So, explain to me Shard, why the Federation is sending a ship to survey an area deep within the Federation? Why aren't we out on the borders where we should be?"

Shard grinned. He knew this one. "Because sir, space is not static. It is important to validate proper-motion and verify that beacons and markers are still in their proper place. It's a normal duty for ships in for rest, refit, or crew replacement."

"You smiling at me, Crewman?"

Shard wiped the smile off his face, but not before noticing that both his parents had big grins. "No sir! Just a twitch, sir." He'd seen enough entertainments to know that one too.

"I think you'll do, Crewman. Just remember, this all goes on your permanent record with Starfleet. This is a real brevet appointment and your performance will be considered when you apply."

"Yes, sir." Shard kept himself still and his eyes focused on the view-screen, but in reality he wanted to jump across the bridge and scream for joy.

"And some advice, Crewman?"

"Yes please, sir."

"If you don't make it into the Academy, go enlisted. You can prove your worth in the ranks, then either go for an appointment from there, or if you're good enough, get a direct commission by your Captain. It happens often enough. And the crew respect an officer with experience within the ranks."

"Thank you sir!" Shard wasn't worried. He'd be an officer, just like his parents. But for right now – he was really in Starfleet. He remembered that Selenda had been in Starfleet too. That had helped somehow when they came to Earth.

REETH, YORKSHIRE DALES, ENGLAND, EARTH

NOVEMBER 2360

Lieutenant (J.G.) Dr. Josef Hunter, Starfleet Reserves turned to his son, while straightening his uniform. "Shard, are you sure you're going to be okay while we're gone? It's two months, that's a long time to be on your own. And we're missing your birthday besides."

"Dad, I'm almost seventeen. If I were on Dosad, I'd be taking my ritual tests for adulthood, bad leg or no." He slapped his leg. "I just wish I could go with you. Commander Holiday was wonderful. And we celebrated that last week. The date doesn't matter. We sort of made it up anyways." he grinned.

His father cuffed him gently. "Go along? With exams coming up? With your Junior Project due? Shard, you can't take two months off of school, especially not now. And that's a long time to leave the house empty besides."

"Yeah, but a survey mission to the Badlands?! That's going to be amazing! Think of what I could learn! Think how much experience I'd get for my Academy application!"

Carol came in, dropping her jump bag on the floor. "No, Shard. Much as we'd love to have you along, you've got too much going on here at home. And you can hold down the fort with our patients' basic needs."

"Yes, Mom." he sighed.

Josef cautioned him, "Don't get crazy though, Shard. Stay within your scope – anything outside of that and you either call a transporter beam or transport, right? We've let them all know you're here and available."

"Yes, Dad. I know better than that. I'll do the right thing."

Carol knelt down and hugged her son. "You always do, Shard. We're so proud of you."

He hugged her back. "I love you, Mom." then he moved on to his father, hugging him as well, but neither of them saying a word. Shard watched his parents collect their gear and load it up in the APV that would take them to the transit station. They turned and waved, smiling, and he waved back, finally turning to return to his home as they were carried out of sight.

He sat back down at his father's desk and returned to his studies. Just for a moment, he looked again at his red name tag. Even after almost seven years, it was still in good shape. And even though he knew it was silly, it still comforted him every time he read it: "I live at 2230 Back Lane, Reeth, Yorkshire Dales" He let the tag drop back on it's chain with a clink and returned to his studies.

When he went upstairs to his room, he looked around. The house was silent. Ted E. Bear was perched on the headboard to his bed, and the little leather bag of marbles was sitting on top of his dresser. His flute was on its stand in the corner. He realized that this would be the longest he had been alone since Josef had found him, and was then struck by the realization of exactly how much his parents had re-ordered their lives for him.

He began to walk through the house, seeing it with very different eyes. Not the eyes of a terrified and lonely child. Not even the eyes of a youngster moving through his home. Instead, he was seeing them with the eyes of a young man on the verge of heading out into the world, finally comprehending what had been done for him – and with a deeper understanding of why.

He walked into his parents' room and ran his hand along the bed-spread, smoothing it slightly. The room was rich with their scents and said 'home' to him more emphatically than anything else. He made a tour of the whole house, touching, smelling, looking, listening. In the entryway were a series of photographs – tri-d images of the three of them covering the last seven years, including some school photos. He was startled at the contrast between the most recent image and that of his ten year-old self. The frightened, haunted look he had in his eyes, the gaunt build, the dull fur. What had possessed dad to save him and bring him home? Why would the human being in that photograph want to do that for a half-starved cat-person? And the woman next to him – who had patiently held him through every crying fit, every terror, every nightmare and flashback. Was love really strong enough to do that?

"How do you repay that?" he wondered to himself. He could possibly understand it had he been their own child, their own genes. But he wasn't even the same species, not even from the same planet. He was an alien. He reached his hand up and very gently ran his finger across the surface of the tri-d image from so long ago. And as though it were a touchstone, it triggered the answer in his mind: "By living a life of honor. By always doing the right thing. By being someone they will be proud of, always."

He went back upstairs and got into his bed, curled up and slept soundly – a long, six-hour stretch. He was home, after all.

REETH, YORKSHIRE DALES, ENGLAND, EARTH

JANUARY 2360

When the door chimed, Shard had a feeling he knew who it was, and why. There had been no notes from his parents for nearly three weeks; two weeks past when they were supposed to return. Inquiries to Starfleet had only resulted in polite suggestions that he be patient and that ships were often overdue for a variety of reasons. When he opened the door, his heart sank into his toes. Standing there was his father's best friend, Lieutenant Carl Miller and a chaplain he didn't recognize. Ears drooping, tail on the floor he asked politely, "Won't you both please come in?"

Miller and the chaplain looked at each other briefly then came inside. Shard showed them to the front room and invited them to sit, offered them tea, and when they refused, sat down himself. "I know why you're here."

Miller tried to start off, "Shard, they don't really know..."

He looked up and, did something he almost never did - Interrupted someone else. "Sir, they're gone. That's how my life goes. People who love me, my friends, they all die. It's just how things work."

"That's not true, Shard. I've known you since you were a half-starved bit of flea-bitten fur; I'm not dead. Your school mates aren't dead. And you've had nothing but good luck since you came here."

The chaplain also tried, "Yes, son, we can't know what plans the divine have for us. Your parents loved you very much; There's no reason to abandon all hope. They're simply listed as missing right now. We just wanted to come and talk to you. Give you some options."

At that, Shard actually smiled. "Did you think I was going to run off to the woods again?"

Miller grinned back. "Well, your dad and I talked about that a long time ago. He told me a bit about what you'd been through and he wanted to make sure if anything ever happened, that I'd step up."

"Is that why you're here, sir?"

"Well, I wanted you to hear it from someone you knew, a friend, and to let you know that you're always welcome with us, Shard." He thought back to when he had meet the boy. Barely a month after Josef had brought him home, he was still a skittish, thin, and uncertain little boy. Hunter had taken him to visit Miller's sub-space astrophysics lab in Finland, to show him some of the wonders of the universe. To show him that there was something more than just sadness, loss, and pain.

Shard raised his chin. "I appreciate that, a lot, sir. But I've got options."

The chaplain, concerned, asked quickly, "And what are those, son?"

"I'm an adult, by age, according to my species and I can graduate from school early – I've more than met the requirements. I'm going to join Starfleet, go to the Academy, and I'll find them; if they're out there. If not, I'll carry on what they were doing."

Still concerned he continued, "You're taking this awfully well, son."

"Yes, sir. As I said, part of me has always been ready for them to die. They were a dream come true. My life since they saved me has been fantastic. Beyond anything I ever even hoped for. I guess now it's time to get back to reality. Maybe I'll find them. But, I'll never lose them." he put his hand over his chest. "They're here. Nothing and no one will ever take them from me."

Miller, impressed, asked him, "What about the house, Shard?"

Shard smiled again, and lifted his little red name tag. He looked down at it and read aloud, "My name is Shard. I live at 2230 Back Lane, Reeth, Yorkshire Dales" Then he looked at Miller and the chaplain again. "I have to have someplace to come home to when I'm not on duty, right?"

The Lieutenant grinned, "That's a long time to leave it empty, Shard. But I've got an idea."

"What's that, sir?"

"My nephew's about your age, Shard. He's going to Uni up at Middlesbrough. Would you let him stay here to keep the place up while you're away at the Academy or on fleet duty?"

"That would be fine, sir."

The chaplain tried again. "I'm still shocked at how well you're taking this, young man."

Shard grinned at Miller, "My parents wouldn't want me to be like I was. I'm not going to be. I'll look for them. And I'll do what they would want me to: Live. I owe them that, and more than I can ever say."

Miller said, "You'll need a letter recommending you for the entrance exam, Shard. I just happen to have one here..."

Shard smiled again. "I'll add that to the two from my parents, and Commander Holiday, sir."

STAR FLEET ACADEMY, SAN FRANCISCO, EARTH

MARCH 2360

Shard walked out of the admin offices, stunned. He had a single piece of paper in his hand, slightly crumpled. His face and body language shifted from crushed to angry to confused and back again in a rapid cycle as he walked, shuffling and somewhat aimlessly – toward the road out of campus.

"Yo, what's up there son?" he heard a voice.

Shard did a stutter-step, stopped, and looked up. "What?"

"You look like someone took your favorite ball of yarn." When Shard's ears flipped backwards the speaker held his hands up, "Sorry! Just tryin' to break the ice! Get turned down?"

He looked at the speaker. He was obviously an incredibly fit human, maybe mid-30's, close-cropped blond hair, blue eyes, and a friendly smile. He was wearing dark green trousers and a tight-fitting khaki dress shirt. "What business is that of yours, sir?" Shard asked, perhaps a little sharply.

The man grinned at him. "You don't call me 'sir', son, I work for a living." then he held his hand out, "Sergeant First Class Jim Wilcox. Starfleet Marine Corps."

Shard knew this gesture well and shook his hand. "Okay, Sergeant. I don't mean to be rude, but what do you care?"

"Hey, let's get some coffee and I'll tell you why I care; sound like a plan?"

Shard agreed and while they were sitting in a nearby coffee shop, the man finally got to the point. "So why try for the Academy?"

Shard was a little puzzled. "I want to go into Starfleet. My parents were both officers." Without intending to, he continued, "They're missing."

"Missing?" he took a sip of his coffee. "What ship?"

"The USS Black Forest."

"Ahhhh." he nodded. "That's a hard one. Badlands. Probably the Cardassians."

"I want to go look for them, but more I want to do what they did. Explore. Learn."

"Why go officer? Hell, why go 'Fleet at all?"

Puzzled, Shard asked, "What else is there?"

Smiling, the man slapped his chest. "There's a service that's custom designed for strong young men like you. Men with drive, and honor, and spirit. The Marines. And believe me, enlisted is the way to go; Officers get all the press, but it's the Non-Coms who make it happen, son. You want to lead men? You want to be the one getting the job done? You want to be enlisted. If you want to wave a baton and just watch other people do what you came up with, that's an officer. But you, you look like a man who likes to be part of the action. Not some fancy-pants – no insult intended to your parents, son." he quickly corrected himself and stopped there.

Shard thought about it. Happy Jack Holiday had advised him to go enlisted if he had any trouble with the Academy. But the Marines?

"Can I see that paper, son? Trust me, I've seen plenty. I just want to see their reasons."

Shard shrugged and handed it over.

Reading aloud, "Physical disability, right leg: Irreparable. Deep seated unresolved loss issues. Mild persecution complex. Memory loss/confusion. Test scores include sub-par scores in theoretical sub-space physics and n-dimensional vector field calculus. Superior scores in language, medicine, and general science. REJECTED." He looked at Shard. "That's a harsh word, isn't it?"

He didn't say anything, studying the Marine.

"Makes you feel about this tall, doesn't it?" he held his thumb and finger about an inch apart. "I could sign you up as a crewman and have you on your way to Boot Camp and being a Marine Corpsman in about two hours. Physical disability." He snorted. "We can work with that."

"What about joining Starfleet as Enlisted?"

Wilcox looked hurt. "After what they just did to you, you'd still want to go 'Fleet?"

Shard smiled, it felt good after the rejection. "Yes, Sergeant. I'd rather explore than just fight. If they're sending the Marines, things have already gone pear shaped."

Wilcox smiled back, "Well, there is that. I'll give you my Comm code though, son – Once you're in 'Fleet and get bored to tears, you call me. We can transfer you; You'll have to go through Boot Camp though; Starfleet Basic doesn't cut it. We do it right. Come on, boy. Let's get you started on making your life an adventure."

LEWIS-MCCHORD FACILITY, SEA-TAC, EARTH

APRIL 2360

Basic Training hasn't changed much in over half a millennia; The purpose remains the same – to take a mob of unruly civilians, each with their own idea of how to run their lives and what to do, into an organized team able to follow directions under incredibly high stress. The same methods that were used to break down an individual in the 1700's work just as well today. And in some cases, even in the same places. Lewis-McChord Facility has been a training station for over 400 years.

As the platoon jogged down the dirt path, the Drill Sergeant calling the cadence, recruit Saad al-Fakeeh was watching Shard. In a low voice, so as to escape the notice of their instructor, he said, "I swear to Allah, you enjoy this."

Shard grinned back. Despite the limp, he was able to keep up fairly easily. He let his eyes roam across the beautiful pine woods, Mt. Rainier making a spectacular backdrop. The rich scents of the woods were teasing his nose and the weather was perfect today. "What's not to like?"

"You're a glutton for punishment."

"This isn't punishment. This is easy. I get fed more than I can eat, I've got a soft bed, friends, and..."

The Drill Sergeant bellowed out, "HUNTER! AL-FAKEEH! ORBITAL RUN! NOW!"

They both answered in unison, "MOVING, DRILL SERGEANT!" and began to run loops around the formation as it jogged along. That took enough wind and caused enough attention that they weren't going to be chatting any more.

That evening they were sitting around their barracks, cleaning equipment and just bullshitting like young recruits have done since the first group of people decided to become an army. Shard had struggled to adapt his sleep schedule to match Starfleet's training routines; This was a human base with human standards and sleep was emphatically not allowed outside of night-time hours. But, he managed.

Saad asked him, "You don't feel weird being the only alien in the whole division?"

"Nope. I've been the only alien anywhere most of my life. And there are benefits." One of the female recruits walked past and scratched along his head.

"Hey, Hunter."

He grinned at Saad and said over his shoulder. "Hey, Edwards." Then turning back to Saad continued, "Women, they can't resist the fur." and winked.

Saad snorted. "So, come on, what's your story? You haven't told anyone anything much."

"No story. Parents were Starfleet, so I'm going to be too. Hoping to make officer. Going to be a doctor."

"Yeah, we got that."

Edwards came back and plopped down next to them and started cleaning some of her gear. "Why the big mystery anyway, Hunter?"

"It's not a mystery. I just don't want people getting too close. Bad things happen to people who get close to me. I'm kinda broken anyway, it's why I didn't get into the Academy."

Johnson, A tall black man from Colorado waggled his fingers at Shard, "oooo! Bad JuJu!" and laughed.

Shard shrugged. "Bad something. Why take chances? What, I can't be friends without us all taking long walks together on the beach in the moonlight?"

Mary Beth Edwards was just about Shard's height with what should have been lustrous, long, black hair; except she shaved her head bald just to make a point. Everyone had nicknamed her 'Hard Core' – and she lived up to that. "Did you have friends back at home?"

Shard thought back to the two days that Starfleet had given him to wrap things up back in Reeth before he shipped out and smiled. Conan, Bonnie, Robby, and Gordon had given him a bit of a going-away party at a local pub. And Bonnie had given him a very nice kiss; nice enough to elicit a cheer from the folks in the pub. "Yup."

There was silence for a few moments then Saad shook his head. "Really? Just 'yup'? That's it?"

"Yup."

Edwards laughed again, "Asshole." and she tugged on his tail.

"Mew." he winked at her and curled that tail around her hips.

There was another pause for a few minutes then Saad asked him, "The physical part of this seems really easy for you, even with the bad leg. You max every test. It's not really fair to the rest of us."

Shard shrugged. "Not much I can do about it. Dosadi have some physical advantages. What do you want me to do, slack off?"

Edwards supported him, "Hell no. We'll get Honor Platoon with your PT scores and all of our shooting. That means extra privs." She looked him up and down, "How you think you'll do in SEAR this next week?"

SEAR – Survival, Escape And Resistance training was widely rumored to be brutal. Designed to teach recruits how to survive when disaster struck and they were separated from their ship, or their unit and how to resist interrogation and torture;. You had to pass it – not just physically, but psychologically – to graduate. Starfleet threw it in the middle of Basic Training so that recruits had a fair amount of training under their belts, but not so much that it would be a waste if they were unable to deal with the stress.

Shard tried not to smile. "I think I'll do OK. It really doesn't sound too bad."

Johnson, who had grown up in Denver, stared at him. "They dump you in the woods in your underwear, at night, with nothing, and give you twelve hours head start then send Security trainees out to find you. If they catch you, they spend two days interrogating you and then you start over. And no matter what, you get to spend the last two days being interrogated and tortured. And that doesn't sound too bad to you?"

"Who needs underwear?" Shard asked with a big smile, fluffing his fur. At that, all three of his friends jumped on him and worked to pin the faster, stronger, felinoid. It took a bit, but finally they had him held down, arms and one leg wrapped up while his tail lashed.

Edwards started rubbing all his fur the wrong way, being rewarded with a loud yowl just in time for the Drill Sergeant to walk in. "Knock that shit off!" he shouted. "Toe the line in two minutes! You children better study like hell the rest of this week because next week it gets serious!"

BANF NATIONAL PARK, ALBERTA, NORTH AMERICAN DISTRICT

APRIL 2360

The weather was perfect. A light rain, grey overcast, and the temperature was about 6 degrees (43 F) as the sun set behind him. Shard yawned. He was four days into the SEAR test and was loving every minute of it. He shook his head and fluffed his fur against the slight chill in the air. He was draped on a branch half-way up a lodgepole pine tree watching three Security troops trying to sneak through the forest. They were clearly not experienced woodsmen.

They had a basic scanner, but that just let them know where he was within a very broad area. Well, it let them know that someone was present within a very broad area. They were a fire team from the company that was scattered about and hunting his platoon. No one had thought to tell them that one of the recruits was a Dosadi, much less what one looked like. Not that any of them had caught sight of Shard yet anyway.

He was treating it as something of a vacation. He could sleep when he wanted to, the hunting was ridiculously easy, the weather fine, and the only real scare he had was when a wolverine had decided to argue with him over a beaver he had killed. He let the wolverine have it; The thing was creepy. And had a bad attitude besides. He lay his chin on his crossed hands and watched the two men and one woman crunch their way through the underbrush, making enough noise that everything in the forest for half a mile knew where they were.

STARFLEET MONITORING CENTER, BANF NATIONAL PARK

"Oh come on!" the Security instructor raged. "He's right fucking there! Open your god-damn eyes!"

The SEAR range master laughed, "That'll teach them to make assumptions about what they're looking for."

"Christ! The damn sensor's screaming! They've got to know he's close! Wake UP!" he threw his hands up as they walked under Shard's branch – the instructors' drone was giving them a beautiful view of Shard's amused expression as he watched them continue past. "I am going to run them until they die!" the man stomped over to a chair and threw himself into it.

"You know, I think he's actually gained weight..."

BANF NATIONAL PARK, ALBERTA, NORTH AMERICAN DISTRICT

Shard decided he was going to have a little fun. Vacation was nice and all, but you needed to focus on the work too. Once the Security team had gone by, he finished the last bit of ground squirrel he had been snacking on, and stashed what was left. If he needed to, he could come back for the hide and the bones. He quickly made his way down to the ground and keeping low, followed his nose.

It didn't take him long to catch up to the three.

The taller male was holding the scanner and looking at it with a puzzled expression. In the failing light, human vision was very weak while Shard's was having no difficulty at all. "I think the damn thing's busted." he said.

The woman said, "Let me see it. I've done some tech work..." And took it and began making adjustments.

"It's busted. It's said he's within the nearest circle for the last two miles. Either it's picking up Pyscho over there, or it's busted."

The smaller man just grinned. "Keep calling me Psycho and we'll just see if I really am."

"Whatever. Make yourself useful and see if you can find someplace for us to camp for a couple hours. We can take turns and each get an hour and go find Mr. Hunter while he's asleep."

"Yah, in a minute. I gotta piss."

"Try not to get it on your shoes this time." the woman said amiably while she was tinkering with their sensor.

"Fuck off." Psycho said and made his way towards the underbrush and some privacy.

Twenty minutes later, his friends were becoming concerned. "Hey! Psycho! You fall in? Snake get you?" the tall man called, getting no answer. Then the woman started calling too.

The two of them teamed up to search for him – their useless sensor still telling them that Shard was right on top of them – and found nothing.

"What the hell?" the man asked. "He get lost? If a bear got him, he'd scream, right?"

"Idiot, he'd shoot it with his phaser."

"Then where the hell is he?"

Shard tried not to smile too much. He was back up in a large maple tree and fairly well concealed. Which was good, because 'Psycho' was next to him, leaned on the trunk, his feet bound by his own trousers, his arms and hands tied together with his uniform shirt, and his underwear over his face, blinding him. Shard held the hand phaser up and took careful aim at the two still hunting him. He briefly thought about how nice it would have been to have had that the last time people were hunting him.

Then he tripped the 'discharge' button and waited for the power-pack to drain completely and tucked the useless hunk of metal and plastic into his unconscious prisoner's trousers.

STARFLEET MONITORING CENTER, BANF NATIONAL PARK

"That's it, that's going too far. Get that damn'd cat back here right now." the Security instructor demanded.

The range master just laughed again. "He didn't hurt him, much, and he did trigger his retrieval beacon. That's well within the bounds of this range – we teach them self-defense for a reason. If your troop didn't want to be a 'redshirt', he should've paid a bit more attention and not wandered off on his own. Hell, the recruit didn't even keep your boy's phaser."

"You're going to let him get away with that? He stripped him naked, pulled his damn jockey's over his head and left him up a tree!"

The other man shrugged. "Nothing in it against the rules. Once his teammates are far enough away, we'll transport him back and you can send him out again. Maybe with clean underwear though. I'll admit that part was a bit nasty."

BANF NATIONAL PARK, ALBERTA, NORTH AMERICAN DISTRICT

The sun had set, and the two Security troopers had decided to rely on their hand-lights. Shard shook his head at that. All that did was ruin their night vision. He got down on all fours and slunk silently, and very, very slowly through the underbrush towards where the two troopers were still trying to make their sensor work. And all it was doing was telling them that he was close. Which, since the disappearance of their friend, wasn't helping their nerves any.

Both of them were starting at every noise, jumping at shadows, and both had nearly shot the other several times; And it wasn't even 2100 hrs yet. After watching them for a few minutes, Shard decided to have a little more fun. He padded off about 20 meters and let out with a loud scream. An instant later, two phaser shots lanced off into the night – nowhere near where he was.

"What the hell was that?!" the man yelled.

"Jesus, that was the freakiest sound I've ever heard."

"Maybe it was Psycho...maybe something's eating him."

"No way. Why would it wait this long?"

"I dunno. Maybe it was playing with him or something. Like a cat with a mouse."

"We gotta find this asshole, shoot him and get the hell out of here."

"Yeah...or just get the hell out of here."

By now, Shard was back at the edge of the little meadow they were standing in. He lay down flat on his belly, his head on his hands again and just enjoyed watching them freak each other out more and more. Finally, he had what he wanted. The man was facing away from him, and the woman was looking off to the side, just between them.

He gathered himself up and, staying low ran at full-tilt into the woman, knocking her phaser away into the night, then slamming into the back of the man's legs, grabbing his calves and picking him up over his shoulder and running into the woods while his victim screamed like an eight year-old girl.

For the woman, it was worse when the screaming stopped.

STARFLEET MONITORING CENTER, BANF

The range master was laughing. "Oh, this is priceless. This is just too good." Neither man had wanted to go home until this bit of drama played out. The outcome wasn't in doubt; The only question was how Shard would finish them off; Which was rather unusual, of course. The night-shift monitors were quietly placing some bets on how long the woman would last.

The Security instructor was fuming. "I am going to enjoy interrogating that damn cat."

"Just don't get carried away, Shaun."

"Screw that."

They watched as Shard again stripped the poor man naked, using his claws and tearing his clothing into long, twisted strips of tough cloth. This time he tied him to a tree, upright, again with his underwear over his eyes. And then Shard climbed up the tree again and waited.

BANF NATIONAL PARK, ALBERTA, NORTH AMERICAN DISTRICT

It was after two in the morning when the man's calls for help brought results. His friend was no dummy though and she approached very, very cautiously. Shard had remained silent – there were plenty of other strange noises in the woods at night for the woman to be afraid of. He relaxed on his branch, watching her move as carefully as she could, phaser at the ready, hand-light flashing across the underbrush. She had at least abandoned the useless sensor.

She got close to her friend and, satisfied that Recruit Hunter was nowhere near, straightened up and tried not to chuckle. Even once she got around to untying him his clothes were torn into strips, so he'd be going back nude. And the underwear over his head was just the icing on the cake.

She whispered, "I see you're definitely not the big man on campus." and she giggled.

"Shut the fuck up and get me loose!"

Which was when Shard dropped on her. Any Earth cougar would have been proud of the pounce.

STARFLEET MONITORING CENTER, BANF

"There! That's sexual assault!" the Security instructor yelled, pointing at the monitor screen. Shard had trussed the woman up to the tree much as he had her companion. Courteously, he left her underwear on, however. But he had stolen a kiss when she woke up.

The two men watched the light-enhanced view from the drone:

Her eyes had opened up and she almost screamed. Had Shard not been standing upright, she would've thought he was a wild animal. "What the fuck are you?!" she asked.

"I'm a Dosadi." he had said with a smile. "And you're a human, and he's an idiot. But that's not important right now."

"Un-tie me, asshole. You're under arrest." She was shivering in the cold – as night fell, the temperature had dropped to freezing.

Shard laughed. He drained both their phaser power-packs and chucked them at their feet. "I tripped your beacons so they'll know to come and get you." he cocked his head at her. "Don't you want to know what's important?"

"Fine, what's important?" Her teeth were chattering.

"That I'm not an asshole." He leaned in and kissed her soundly. "I'll leave so they can get you out of here before you get too cold. Your other friend's already been retrieved. Idiot over here's gonna be blue though; you took a long time getting here. I had to come down and warm him up twice." He pouted. "I don't think he likes cuddling." He smiled and vanished into the brush. "Welcome to Sherwood!" he called out into the dark.

If she got the reference, she made no sign.

After Shard had left, the range master ordered their retrievals and said, "That wasn't sexual assault. The kid stole a kiss. I'm pretty sure she'll survive it. At least he left her underwear on."

The other instructor wasn't mollified. "In less than forty-eight hours that little prick is mine. Then we'll see how smart he is."

STARFLEET MONITORING CENTER, BANF

APRIL 2360

Captain Cox continued his report. Several images of the recruit in question were flashing by on the screen as he talked. "Even after being re-released into the exercise area, he was quickly recaptured. Seems to be unable to force himself to eat available, if unpalatable foods. Very low evasion rating. Very low survival rating. Did quite poorly in the interrogation sessions as well. Recommendation from the psych team is recycle." He looked up. Anyone disagree? He shows potential, if we give him a month's hard training on SEAR, then recycle him through Basic, I think we can salvage him. Anyone want to make the case for passing him or ejecting him?

He scanned the faces at the table and seeing no further discussion closed the file on his PADD and swiped it into a 'RECYCLE' folder. An instant after he swiped the next recruit up there were a number of chuckles and a few outright laughs. He glanced up and grinned. There was an overhead enhanced vision shot of Shard kissing the young woman while her partner was tied naked on the other side of the tree, his underwear covering his head. The Captain cleared his throat to bring people back to the point and began to read. "Recruit Sharden Hunter." As the photos cycled through there were a few more chuckles, which he ignored.

"Exceptional evasion abilities. Exceptional survival abilities. Actually gained nearly two pounds and appeared to treat the entire exercise as something of a lark." he cleared his throat again. "Captured one fire team that was hunting him and um...humiliated them. Successfully evaded the follow-on full squad sent to locate him." There were more laughs and he rolled his eyes as the next photo showed Shard urinating into a water bladder. "Contaminated the water supply of two members of that squad, without their detecting it until it was um, too late. Exceptional resistance to interrogation, including enhanced techniques even when..." he glared at the Security instructor, "Interrogators exceeded range safety limits. Recommendation from the psych team is pass, with a strong caution." he raised his eyebrow at that.

"Anyone want to make the case for recycling hm or ejecting him?"

No one was surprised when the Security instructor spoke. "Yes, I do. This kid never took SEAR seriously and he had a ridiculous set of advantages. None of the teams looking for him were informed that he was an alien. He has fur. He has claws. He's stronger and faster than they are. This wasn't even remotely a fair test."

Another officer spoke up, "It was certainly fair for your trainees. They need to not make assumptions. They need to learn to look up. And they need to stop thinking of themselves as invincible. I think Hunter did you a service by pointing out some serious weak points in your training regimen."

"This wasn't about my boys' training. This is about his!" he pointed at the screen, which was Shard's recruit ID photo.

"And what didn't he pass? Stepping back from being pissed off that he totally owned over a dozen of your security trainees and looking at him like an instructor, what could he possibly have done better?"

"He could have taken it seriously instead of pretending to be Robin Hood! He needs to be tested according to his species, not ours!"

"Other felinoids take the same test, to the same standards. Environment is random for each class, just like real life. Sometimes you luck out, sometimes you don't. Your kids had equipment, numbers, sensors, and weapons and he beat them like bongos. Deal with it. Pass him."

A woman wearing medical blue spoke up, "I'm a little concerned as well."

Cox asked her, "Why?"

"There's something odd here. He was rejected from the Academy because of his leg – which he seems well adapted to – and because of some psychological issues that are noted in his file. He treated this entire exercise like it was familiar and normal. That worries me. What's lurking back in that brain?" she looked into the eyes of the photograph. "The humor was...okay, yes, it's funny to see the people with all the advantages get humiliated and we all love to root for the underdog. But it's still...well, very childish. A professional would have evaded. I'm leaning towards recycle."

Another officer in Command-gold spoke next. "I disagree. It's a good tactic to sow fear in your enemies. Did you watch those teams talk themselves into being afraid of him? He went from an easy target to a superman in three or four days. I'm reminded of a very old war: The underdog was initially just referred to as letters – V C; Very derogatory, very dehumanizing. Then by the slang term 'Charlie'. Then, 'Victor Charles', using the phonetic spelling. Finally, the defeated side was referring to them as 'Sir Charles'. They used similar terror tactics and won the war, despite losing every battle. I say pass."

Cox mulled it over for a few moments. "Show of hands, please, for eject?" There were none. "Recycle?" Only two hands went up. "Okay, we pass him. Next up..."

SAM HOUSTON MEDICAL SCHOOL, TEXAS, NORTH AMERICAN DISTRICT

JULY 2360

There was a fair amount of blood smeared around on the absorbent pads. Shard had both arms stuck out on opposite tables. His ears were drooping, and so were his whiskers. The instructor was walking back and forth and caught sight of Shard's expression. "Oh, suck it up, Crewman Hunter. You're the only fur-bearing person we've got on post at the moment. A few IV's won't hurt you."

"Sir, this isn't a few. These OW! Are numbers 20 and 21. And while I appreciate that my classmates are getting more practice with the wound sealer, it YOWL! Don't dig! Sorry sir, it's just why bother with IVs at all?"

He grinned. "Because, Hunter, you won't always have the fancy gadgets and wonderful little toys and it's important to have basic skills. Because as medics you will either be deep in the shit in combat, or aboard little ships with equipment that fails – and no real staff to repair it. And if you understand how to save lives with nothing, saving lives with fancy toys is easy."

The instructor moved back towards the front of the classroom. "In many ways, you're very much like an old time veterinarian. You don't have the luxury that physicians used to have – you memorized a single anatomy, a single set of proteins and organs and you were set!

"Today, we must be prepared to work on wounded – or sick! - bodies in any one of a dozen shapes. Hominid, Felinoid, Canid, Reptilian, etc. When you graduate this course, you will know more than someone rated 'Doctor' three hundred years ago. Or perhaps I should say if you graduate this course. Crewman Jones, where would I find the heart on a Vulcanoid?"

"Upper right abdominal quadrant, proximal, sir."

"I see that smile. Nice to get an easy question isn't it? Well, how would I identify the endocrine system on an unknown species and assess whether or not that system was malfunctioning due to illness?"

He continued to pester the trainee medics with similar questions for some time while they worked, "Hunter, how do you identify a malfunctioning protein production system within the body of an unknown type-II mammal, and in particular, how do you differentiate between the cause being viral vs genetic disorder?"

"Shevchenko, diagram the thoracic cavity of an Andorian type-A male, please."

"Kinning, describe the different effects of Tri-Ox compound on hemoglobin vs hemocyanin."

"Tokugawa, compare and contrast the function of sodium chloride in humans vs Dosadi vs Vulcan. I see that expression. Don't guess. Come next week prepared to present an in-depth summary."

Towards the end of the day he summed up with his usual. "And I will continue to drill this into your heads. In a crisis, you must follow the ABCs: for almost all the forms of life we know, keep their airway open. Keep their blood volume up and pumping. That will give you time to deal with the other issues. And as always..."

At this the entire class spoke in unison, "May I never see in the patient anything but a fellow creature in pain. I will not permit considerations of age, disease or disability, creed, ethnic origin, gender, race, or any other factor to intervene between my duty and my patient; I will maintain the utmost respect for sentient life."

He paused for a moment. "This is your oath, people. Honor it. Live it."

Shard nodded. His father had drilled that oath into his head since he was a child; His father lived it. So did Shard.

The instructor's focus on primitive medicine caught Shard's interest as well. He began to poke his nose into some of the older medical texts available at Sam Houston, and even went so far as to replicate some ancient instruments. Everything from a mortar and pestle to a nice optical microscope, to an early protein sensor.

MCKINLEY STATION, EARTH ORBIT

MARCH 2361

Crewman Sharden Hunter thought back three years to the last time he had walked these corridors, on his way to the USS Black Forest. The view was still spectacular, but he no longer swiveled his head around like a tourist. Instead, he walked with a purpose, his one-piece black and blue jumpsuit in perfect condition; The open grey diamond of his rank on the collar and a Starfleet combadge affixed to his left breast. The only thing missing was his parents' physical presence.

No matter how calm an outward appearance he maintained, his excitement was growing with every step. Technically, he had real time-in-service and time-in-grade for his one week's duty aboard the USS Black Forest, but this was a real posting as a fully qualified medic. The ship he was heading towards – the USS Paulson was a Higgins-class Science Scout, with a crew of exactly ten souls. He stopped walking as he caught sight of the ship, docked to the station, through one of the large observation windows.

A glossy-white oblong saucer shape with a single, flat warp-nacelle tucked underneath, looking very much like a ram-scoop with the tail of the nacelle extending beyond the stern of the primary hull. Attached along either side of the saucer were flat, wing-like extensions with sensor pods attached. Her hull had evidence of recent damage, including long scorch-marks down the saucer and repair crews working along the port-aft quarter. Emblazoned in a black arc across the top-forward part of the primary hull were her name and number: USS PAULSON NCC-41373. Shard spent a few moments just taking her in – this was his ship. His first ship. His parents and their friends always talked about their first postings with nostalgia – He wondered where he'd be when he was in his thirties and if he would look back the same way at the good old days aboard the Paulson. He wondered what the captain was like. If he'd fit in with the crew. What he'd see and do.

"Crewman Hunter, unless you wish to be late reporting for duty, I would recommend that you cease sightseeing and enter the docking module."

Startled, Shard spun around and saw a tall, lean, Vulcan male, also wearing Sciences blue and the single-solid pip of an ensign. "Uh, Sir! Aye aye, sir." He re-seated his jump bag on his shoulder and then after a brief pause asked, "Sir? How did you know my name?"

The Vulcan looked at him coolly. "You are a Dosadi, wearing Crewman's rank and a Sciences uniform within a few yards of the entrance to the Paulson. It is logical to conclude that you are Crewman Hunter, the replacement Medic for our vessel. I am Ensign Tack, the Science Officer aboard."

Shard felt stupid – of course it was obvious. "Yes, sir." and he continued walking, the officer falling into step alongside. As they walked, he resisted the urge to strike up a conversation with the man; Vulcans weren't much for casual conversation. In a very few seconds, the other man had passed into the ship with a nod to the crewman standing on watch in the entryway. Shard stopped and drew himself up.

"Crewman Sharden Hunter, Medical Corpsman, reporting for duty!" He presented his PADD with his orders displayed.

The other man took it and glanced at it. After making sure the Vulcan had continued on into the ship he said, "Hey, I'm Jona Wilson, Engineering. Welcome aboard, Hunter." He tapped on Shard's PADD for a few moments. "Your cabin's adjacent to the sick bay, but that's being repaired right now, so stash your gear in mine for the next couple days. port side amidships, compartment six." He nodded to Shard's single jump-bag. "That all your gear?"

"Yes, Senior Crewman."

He smiled. "We don't do a lot of rank most of the time. Call me Wilson. It's good you travel light. We're a fast ship and Captain Bonney runs us like we're pirates. Yaarr." he winked. "I see you met 'Hard' Tack."

"The Vulcan? Yeah. First one I've ever met. Intense!"

Wilson grinned again, "Yeah, they're all like that. Say, what the hell are you anyways? You look kinda like a Cait?"

"Everyone always guesses that first. I'm a Dosadi. They're not a Federation species, but I grew up on Earth and my parents are human." He winked, "I'm adopted."

"No shit?" Wilson laughed. "Hey, I've got you logged aboard. Go dump your gear in my cabin and report to Ensign Ross on the Bridge. He's the XO. He's not as regulation-charlie as 'Hard' Tack, but he runs a right tight ship anyway. The Paulson's a great ship, you'll see. If the XO doesn't have anything for you, come on back and help me play Boatswain; I'll clue you in."

"Thanks, Wilson! I'll do that!" Shard smiled at the man and headed into the ship. He had little difficulty finding Wilson's cabin and stashed his bag neatly in a storage compartment. Checking his uniform fit and making sure his fur was neat, he turned and made his way to the bridge.

The bridge back aboard the Black Forest had been compact and small, but still looked very much like every other starship bridge, with the usual circular arrangement of stations around the captain's chair. The Paulson had more of a cockpit. The captain's position was still centrally located and above the other two stations, but it had a console of its own. Directly in front were two joined consoles – the Flight Controller's and the XO's. That was it. It almost felt cramped. Since the Paulson was a single-decker, there were no turbo-lifts. He paused briefly as the doors swooshed open and then stepped through.

Seated at the captain's position was a stocky young ensign with brown hair. He glanced up at Shard with a questioning expression.

"Crewman Sharden Hunter, Medical Corpsman reporting for duty, Sir!"

The XO looked him up and down. "Crewman Hunter, you were logged aboard nearly five minutes ago. Is it no longer traditional to report directly to the Bridge upon arrival? Or have things gotten so slack in the short while that we have been away?"

"Sir, no sir! I dropped my gear off in my temporary quarters, sir. I am still within the reporting period for my orders, sir!"

"Barely. I run a very tight ship, Crewman. We are a small ship, and we rely on each other to an extraordinary degree. We cannot tolerate people larking about on a whim. Why are you so late arriving? You should have transported up and reported over an hour ago, by my watch."

Shard shuddered. "Sir! I took a shuttlecraft from the Sam Houston School."

"Ah. Not a fan of transporters, eh?"

"No, sir. I can't stand them. And I love to fly."

"I see. Well, think we've played enough of the let's be all stern and scary for the new guy routine?"

Shard grinned at him. "Yes, sir."

"Good. I hate that shit. Welcome aboard, Hunter. You've got big shoes to fill."

"Sir?"

"You're replacing Chief Petty Officer 'Doc' Henry Lee. Probably the best corpsman in Starfleet. I'd trust him over any doctor you can name on any starship. He acted as our 'Chief of the Boat' as well, but that's not going to be on you. Petty Officer Mauser, our surveyor, will take that role over."

"What happened to uh, Chief Petty Officer Lee, sir?"

"Did you see all that damage to the hull when you came aboard?"

"Yes, sir."

"We were making a sensor run on a gravimetric anomaly to see if it was worth sending a full science vessel out to investigate. It turned out to be highly sensitive to warp fields and started throwing off severe shear fields and energy streamers. Captain and Starkey got us out of it, but one of the streamers hit us right along the port side. It took out Doc's sick bay and breached his quarters. He didn't survive the impact. We weren't even able to recover him."

"Oh. That's awful, sir."

"Yeah. Shit happens. We're the cutting edge for Starfleet sciences, Hunter. We do the risky jobs, we scout around and find the interesting things to study. Space is deep and there's not enough of the bigger ships, so they send out the scouts. Us. Makes it a lot faster to find the things you really want to spend time and energy researching and investigating. And from a straight math point of view, it's a lot cheaper to lose one small, 10-man ship than it is a big starship.

"There's quite a few Scout Squadrons out there, Hunter, all Higgins-Class or similar, but we are the best. No bullshit. We've got the reputation and the record to prove it. And we take the damage and injuries as well. Pappy Galaar and Wilson make sure the engines can do whatever the Captain wants, Mauser and I keep the crew tight, Ensign Tack's team gathers the data, and it's up to you to keep us all healthy and whole and fix us when things go wrong. Can you handle it?"

Shard's spine snapped straight. "Yes, SIR!"

"I don't know much about Dosadi, so this'll be a learning experience for me. But I do know who checked you in; Don't call Ensign Tack 'Hard' Tack to his face or you'll be coming to see me and I will make that a very significant emotional event. Understood?"

Shard fought back the grin. "Yes, sir!"

"He knows about the nickname and he enjoys it, but familiarity is not the way to interact with a Vulcan officer. Pappy you can call 'Pappy' however. Just remember to argue with him – he's a Tellarite. I'd start out by telling him the entire engine room needs to be re-designed." He winked.

This time Shard let the grin show. "Thank you, sir. I've worked with Tellarites before."

"Dismissed, Hunter. I'll put you on the schedule rotation starting tomorrow. For now, go get the skinny from Wilson or he'll be lonely. That man would gossip the ear off a Betazoid."

Shard turned and headed out, smartly.

USS PAULSON, ALPHA QUADRANT, UNDER WAY

DECEMBER 2361

Lying back in his bunk one evening, Shard just enjoyed the feel of the Paulson's motion through space. There was a faint rumble that always went through the ship when she was at warp; At first it had been slightly disconcerting, especially when he was barefoot as he preferred – he could feel it in the pads of his feet quite clearly. Now, however, it was comforting; It said 'home' as much as the scent of his parent's house did; He picked up his little red name tag and read it again. Then, he put his hands behind his head, and just smiled, the tip of his tail flicking lazily. He was doing well here and he knew it; They would be proud of him.

In the six months since he had reported aboard, he'd had to treat a few illnesses – colds, viral infections, one embarrassing case of a previously unknown venereal disease – now entered into the Starfleet medical database and credited to Shard for it's discovery and cure – and a fair number of injuries. Those surprised Shard. He'd had no idea that 'Fleet duty was as hazardous as it was.

Few people did. But operating small, high-powered craft at the bounds of physics and in the depths of the universe carried with it a sizable number of hazards. Plasma burns, breaks, cuts, puncture wounds, electrical shock, bruises, internal injuries, anything that can possibly happen to a sentient's body can and did happen with frightening regularity. For Shard, however, there was a familiar feel to it – He'd been running calls on all of those wounds with his father throughout the Dales since he was a child. Farming and rural life also carried with it a fair amount of risk.

The crew of the Paulson had found that they could rely on the young medic. Naturally, the first few visits from each crew member were marked with discomfort, curiosity and hesitation. But each found quickly that the short little felinoid was competent, compassionate, and friendly and that he quickly adapted to their personalities. 'Hard' Tack was always treated with cool, calm, professional crispness. The Flight Controller, Petty Officer 3rd Class Ray Starkey liked to joke to cover his fears or pain, and Shard found that the man had a massive capacity to absorb teasing and practical jokes and that they helped put him at his ease. The ship's Science Tech, PO2C Jelani 'Membe had learned that Shard could be trusted to keep private matters private, and he was extremely thankful that Shard was the one credited with his new discovery and that it was not going to be named ''Membe's Disease'.

The new Chief of the Boat, PO2C Shelly Mauser, the ship's Surveyor, found Shard to be a friendly sort and a good counselor; He had a tough background as well and seemed able to identify with her difficulties with her family. Pappy Galaar discovered that Shard would happily argue with him about most anything; Shard suspected that some of the man's visits to Sick Bay had more to do with wanting to argue than real medical need. Shard tried to schedule frequent visits to the engines in order to indulge him as well, always starting out with helpful suggestions on how engineering could be run better.

He remembered the first time the Captain had been brought down. The Paulson had been snooping around the edges of an ion storm, surveying limits-data and making track predictions when the damn thing had turned on them. By the time Starkey and Ross had managed to fly her back into clear space, a number of consoles throughout the ship had become super-charged and blown, including the captain's station. Ross had brought her down, one of her arms over his shoulder and set her on the lone bio-bed.

"Hunter!" Ross called out as the doors opened up. "Captain's hurt."

Shard quickly helped get her on the bed and began scanning her. The little tool whistled quietly. "All right...No fun at all. Not too severe, though, not life-threatening. Here..." he picked up a nerve blocker and placed it on the Captain's skull, finding that it wouldn't adhere through her thick black hair. The Lieutenant (Junior Grade) ran her ship with flair and a sense of fun and wore her hair long, gathered into a pony tail. Careful to pull it into a regulation bun when they were in port, aboard ship she allowed considerably more latitude in the uniform code. Shard could go bare-foot, Wilson felt the need to wear a pirate-like sash some days, their sensor operator, PO3C Liam McKay liked to work in shorts, etc.

"I'll hold it, Crewman." she said, and held the little gadget in place on her scalp.

"Thank you, ma'am. That'll numb the pain while I work."

"I'll get back to the Bridge before Starkey flies us somewhere we don't want to be, like Klingon space." Ross quipped and left the Sick Bay.

Shard worked his tools, one in each hand and swapping them for others as needed. LT (JG) Mary Bonney watched him, the destroyed tissues sloughing off neatly, damaged blood vessels sealing almost magically, then the open wound smoothly being cajoled into closing under the humming fields of Shard's instruments. She realized that he had been quietly extracting bits of panel-glass with his off hand as he worked as well.

"How old are you, Crewman?"

"Seventeen, Ma'am."

"You seem awfully competent for a brand new medic."

"Thank you, ma'am. But my father was a Starfleet doctor and my mother was a Starfleet psych-tech. I've been working on injuries since I was a little boy."

"I remember Ross filling me in on that. Human parents. Adopted, grew up in...England, right?"

"Yes, ma'am." He risked a smile. "It's okay to pet me if you want, ma'am. I've had patients do that since I was a kit; it really seems to help distract people."

She laughed. "And a mind reader as well." She used her free hand to gently stroke the fur between his ears. "A little familiar for a Captain, I suppose, but wow, you're soft."

"You're also a patient, ma'am, and humans, um, especially females, seem to see me as a really large cat and petting a cat provides a lot of comfort." He gave a very ironic smile, "It doesn't help when I start purring."

"You purr?" She laughed again, "Good lord. I can imagine the teasing."

"I'm used to it. It doesn't bother me any more; And usually it's meant in a friendly way, so I take it how it's meant. Um, Hmm. Can you put your arm out straight, please? One of those chunks of console cut some muscle and I don't want to heal it short or leave a scar."

She watched him closely as he finished up, and then flexed her arms and looked at where the burns had been. A few centuries back she'd have looked like a monster for the rest of her life. Now, there was simply pale white skin and pink lines where the burns and cuts had been. She studied him and decided, "Doc would be proud of you, Crewman. Thank you. Carry on." She took her leave of her youngest crewman and returned to her bridge to see how Wilson was doing repairing her station.

Shard's mind was snapped back to the present when the bosun's pipes sounded over the intercom. "Crewman Hunter to the mess." He wondered if someone had burned themselves on some coffee and made sure to slap his med-pouch on his waist before he trotted out the door.

When he arrived, he found all nine of his shipmates there. "What's wrong? Hey, who's flying the ship?" he asked puzzled.

Starkey shook his head. "And you call yourself a Paulson. Don't even know we've got an auto-pilot." but he was smiling. "We're just at station-keeping right now, Hunter, no need to be afraid."

Mauser, standing by the doorway raised a bosun's pipe to her lips and blew attention. Everyone in the mess got to their feet. She called "Attention to Orders!"

Confused, Shard also snapped to attention. Captain Bonney and the XO walked towards him. "Crewman Hunter! The President of the Federation, having confidence in the abilities, valor, and dedication of Crewman Sharden Hunter, recognizes his demonstrated potential for increased responsibility. Therefore, Crewman Hunter is promoted to Senior Crewman, effective immediately!"

The Captain removed the little hollow-diamond pip from his uniform, chucking it over her shoulder and replaced it with a solid diamond. She then hauled off and punched him square in the chest. "OOF!" he said, with a smile – he knew he was in for another eight of those; It was a tradition. Not that he cared – it was his first promotion and every impact was as sweet as a spoonful of sugar.

After Wilson had his turn smacking Shard in the chest, Ross said, "All right. I'm sure you all know the significance of today's date. It doesn't get much more serious than this."

There were nods of assent and a few murmurs. Shard was confused again – he wasn't even particularly sure what today was. The date didn't have a lot of meaning aboard-ship.

The XO continued. "Any suggestions?"

Membe offered, "Daktari."

Ensign Tack agreed. "That is logical, Petty Officer. There can be only one 'Doc' for the Paulson."

"What?" Shard asked, still confused.

Captain Bonney finally told him, "It's traditional to give out a nickname after a shipmate's proven themselves, Hunter. Especially to medics. Usually that's 'Doc', but I'm sure you agree with Mr Tack, there's only one 'Doc' to us."

"A nickname? What's Daktari mean?"

"It's Swahili for doctor." Membe grinned.

Ross asked, "Any others?" Seeing none he nodded, "Then we are decided. And, Daktari, HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Everyone started to clap and a small cake was dragged out of the replicator. Shard was absolutely stunned. He hadn't even realized it – He was eighteen today – his first birthday since his parents had disappeared.

Later, he lifted another bite of cake into his mouth, listening to the chatter of his shipmates. He hadn't let any of them get particularly close – he never did. That lesson was hard-learned and not one he was likely to forget. But he was completely, totally content. No matter what, they were his friends – in many ways, his family, and he would do anything to keep them safe. The cake wasn't quite as sweet as he'd have liked – Dosadi taste buds are extra sensitive to salt, but not so much for sweets – but it was wonderful. He let his mind drift back to the hazy, confused memories of his childhood. Like always, whenever he started to look at that part of his life, his mind shied away, landing instead on his first few months with his parents. He wondered if they were glad that they had taken him in. They'd be proud of him, he knew, but...Were they happy that they had changed their lives so radically?

"Yo, Hunter, you awake?"

"Huh? Sorry Wilson, what was that?"

"You up for some cribbage later? You and I have the next match in the tournament. Winner gets Hard Tack and then the semi-finals!"

He smiled, "Hell yes. And loser gets to scrub down my sick bay."

"Ha! You mean loser gets to clean my tools!"