MY WAY OR THE GANG WAY

As I’Aisha and I talked, I realized that one of the persons that should be taking part is missing. So, after the breakfast dishes are washed and put away, I decide it’s time Dad meets his new family.

My parent’s and my living arraignments are somewhat unique. I live in the mid 20^th century house I grew up in. My parents live in an apartment complex near the river. Up until a few years ago, mom and dad lived here but, as they got older, the up keep on a good size house and yard became too much for them. I needed a place to get away from space as well as a place to store parts for the Hanford and her Meks so, I moved into the house and payed for my parents to rent a smaller place. The people in the complex have been keeping an eye on dad since mom went to the medical center.

Tom is glad to be dragged away from his school work but, I’Aisha is a little worried about what is going to happen. "You not tell your Fath-Gurr we mated?", I’Aisha questions. "No", I reply. "Why not?", she asks. "There hasn’t been a good time to tell him since I got home.", I answer. "He not know about Tom too?", She enquires. "If there hasn’t been a good time to tell dad about his Pa’UR daughter-in-law, there certainly hasn’t been one to tell him about his Caitian/Human grandson!", I reply. "I don’t see any problem, dad likes you.", I say, trying to calm I’Aisha’s worries. "He like me as your CAT! As mate, might be different!", she counters. "Everything’s going to be fine.", I say, trying to convince myself as much as I’Aisha. Not that dad is narrow-minded or anything, he is every bit the typical 24^th century human but, remembering what we just went through with Tom’s Grandfather I AM concerned. "Besides, if the shock kills him, our problems are over.", I joke. She DOES NOT appreciate my humor. We catch a crosstown transport and soon we are standing in front of dad’s door.

Before I can ring the door bell, the door flies open, the complex’s computer has alerted dad to our arrival. "Hello, hello, come in, come in!", dad says. It seems he’s in a good mood and he didn’t answer the door in his underwear. Things are looking up! "How are you getting along?", I begin. "Fine, fine, no problems.", he answers. "You know I’Aisha.", I continue. "Of course, of course! How are you?", he asks her. "I fine.", she answers. Kneeling down with a grunt, dad asks, "And who do we have here?". "I am Tom!", is Tom’s reply. Reaching out to pat Tom on the head, dad says, "Fine boy, smart boy.". Getting up, dad continues,"Come in, come in! No sense standing in the door way!". The group moves down a short hall to the living room. Every where I look I see mom, what’s more, in certain spots I can smell her too! As we are setting down dad asks, "Are you hungry, does anyone want something?". "DAD it’s only ten thirty!", I protest. "Yes, yes but, I don’t want to be a bad host!", dad states. "You want anything?", I’Aisha asks dad. "No, no I’m fine.", he replies. "Good, now that THAT’S settled, we need to talk.", I interrupt. "You sounded just like your mother then.", dad comments. "I hear you are having some problems.", I begin. "Oh, uh . . . just a small one.", dad answers. "I wouldn’t call leaving the house without your pants a small problem.", I comment. "It was hot that day!", dad explains. "That may have been true but, going into a police station an hour later and filling out a report that someone stole them when your back was turned makes it into a problem.", I counter. "There have been other incidents as well. Bottom line is that you can’t be left on your own.". "What do, do you propose?", dad questions with some trepidation. "He can come with us!", Tom suggests. I didn’t even think he was listening. "No, I don’t think that would be a good idea.", I reply. "Why, why not?", dad questions. "Well for one thing you hate space travel.", I answer. "Who, who says?", dad shoots back. "I thought you’ve never been off planet!", I answer. "And just, just how do you think your mother and I met?", dad says smugly. " I always thought it was out at your’s or her work site.", I say. "We met on, on Octurus Four.", dad begins. For the next hour dad recounts the riveting story of a failed Earth colony, the start of a civil war, a freighter, her crew caught on shore leave and the Federation Starship that answered their S.O.S. The story of the freighter’s assistant engineer, trapped in a warehouse by two blood thirsty mobs, fighting with his buddies for their lives and, the Landing Party from the starship led by a young Lieutenant Goode that saved them. "You, you remember that burn scar on your mother’s left shoulder?", dad questions, "That, that phaser blast was meant for me! She, she pushed me out of the way but, didn’t get completely out herself.". "She always said she got it while working but, I assumed it was from falling against a hot Plasma Conduit or the like.", I comment. "When my, my friends and I beamed up, the landing party stayed behind to cover our escape. I didn’t know if I would, would ever see her again.", dad concludes his story by saying. "Why didn’t I ever hear this?", I question astonishedly. "You, you knew your mother", dad explains, "She didn’t like to talk about her career.". "If you liked space travel why didn’t you come on a trip with me? I have been Captain of two passenger carrying freighters you know.", I inquire. "You, you never asked.", is dad’s simple reply. "I thought the invitation was always implied.", I comment. "Too bad, your mother would have loved to see you in command.", dad says, " So, so would I.". "So you’re saying you want to come live on the Hanford as we sail the Alpha Quadrant?", I say, trying to settle the issue. "It would mean being away from here for half to three quarters of the year.", I warn. "There’s nothing to, to keep me here now.", dad sadly replies. "You are a stubborn man, the Hanford is my ship! I’m the Captain! You will just have to accept the fact that "WHILE UNDER MY ROOF, YOU’LL HAVE TO FOLLOW MY RULES" (fat chance!)", I inform somewhat pompously. "I think I, I could get use to that.", is dad’s surprising reply. "There’s two more things you will have to get use to.", I begin as I reach out and draw I’Aisha close to my side. Taking a deep breath, I quickly say, "I’Aisha and I are married and Tom is our ward.". I watch dad’s face for a change of expression as I come to the realization that’s the first time I’ve ever said all that out loud! "Ww . . . wonderful!", is dad’s unexpected reply, "It’s, it’s about time.". Thinking his hearing, like his mind is going, I repeat, "You did hear that I said I’Aisha.". "I, I heard!, I’m not deaf! Your, your mother and I always hoped you would wise up.", dad says as my jaw drops. Turning to I’Aisha, he says, "Welcome, welcome to the family!". Then he turns toward Tom, stretches out his arms and says, "Come here and give your old Grandpa a big hug Tom boy!".

It's been a while but here is the next installment of the log.  Enjoy!

Your Captain

FAMILY VALUES

As we leave Ferasa orbit, I receive a disturbing but not unexpected message. My mother is gravely ill. She has been ailing for some time, even in this age of medical miracles, such as robotic or artificially grown organs, gene therapy and, medicines from thousands of worlds, no one lives forever. I set course for Earth but, I doubt we will arrive in time for anything but the funeral.

Unfortunately my estimate was correct, a message waiting for me at the Sea-Tac, Sol Confederation office informs me, Mom had "passed on" a few hours before we docked. Leaving I’Aisha and Tom on the Hanford (even though Dad has met and, I think, likes I’Aisha, it is probably best he NOT meet his new daughter-in-law and Grandson at this moment!), I hop the next train to Richland.

On the ride through the Cascades, I ponder my relationship with mom and dad. I was the only child of two only children. As a result, a great many hopes were pinned or more properly piled on me by not only my parents but both sets of grandparents as well.

My paternal grandfather was a stereotypical Arkie/Okie hillbilly. When I was little, this didn’t bother me but as I grew, he seemed to develop more and more into a "south end of a north bound horse" dressed in overalls. He thought of himself as "god’s gift to women" and was ALWAYS right until, as the facts were staring him in the face he would modify his opnion and let on like that had been his view all along. As I grew up, I understood why Grandma Bolton left him when my father was a young boy. Sadly, Dad seemed to have inherited all his fathers’ bad traits (time seems to have dulled these traits or possibly his mind). Grandma was quite sophisticated considering she came from "simple country foke". Unfortunately, before she left, she spoiled Dad as an only child. My maternal grandfather was a jolly, Starfleet Engineer/inventor. I spent many hours in his workshop "helping" him on one semi-authorized miracle project or another (Good training for keeping nine quirky mechnoids in operational repair!). I don’t remember much of Grandma Goode, she died when I was very young. My childhood impressions of her were that she had an air of sternness about her. As I grew, knowing she was of English stock, I came to believe that much of the sternness may have been a mask used to hide her emotions from the world. Mother was particularly hopeful. She had come from a long line of Star Fleet officers and being one herself, made her determined that her child was "going to make Admiral someday!" like Great Grand somebody or another. I got the impression that the day I entered Starfleet Academy was the happiest day of her life, the day I left the saddest, although she never said and, was always supportive of whatever decision I made. What I now remember most about her is her composure in times of stress, the typical English "Stiff Upper Lip" thing.

The funeral is surprising large considering the size of the immediate family. Of course, Mom’s friends and co-workers at Rattlesnake Mountain Multi-Wave Length Space Array and Dad’s at the Hanford Fusion Power Generating Complex are in attendance. Because Mom was a Starfleet Officer, she is afforded full honors, including a flag draped coffin and honor guard. I’m surprised by how many of the co-workers come up to me afterward and ask if I am the "my son the captain!" that Ann always bragged about. I guess this wasn’t just a polite gesture, as many asked about the Hanford and "her son’s "Pet" felinoid, I’Aisha" as well. One of the most puzzling questions (at the time) was "what are you going to do with your father?". Unknown to me Dad has been slipping for some time. Mom did her best to care for him but now that she was gone, well? Not that he’s a danger to himself or others but, it would be unwise for him to stay by himself. I guess I could get a mechnoid for him but knowing him, that would be a lousy thing to do to a mechnoid!

The day has been EXTREMELY tiring, and I’m happy to fall into my comfortable bed. Early the next morning, I wake out of a sound sleep with the strange feeling I’m being watched. I gradually become aware that there is a substantial weight on the mattress beside me. I open my eyes and find myself being watched by my feline mate kneeling on the mattress beside me. "Where did you come from?", I question in surprise. "From Hanford", is I’Aisha’s mater-a-fact reply. "No . . . I mean . . . What are you going here?", I ask, somewhat disorentedly. "I here with my mated one", she says as she climbs on top of me and begins to gently knead my chest with sharp claws and purr, softly. "From your ma-Purr’s talk, I think you need help with your Fath-Gurr.", she explains, "She say he becoming A’aru (confused).". It’s apparent she has kept up better contact with my mother than I had. I’Aisha continues to knead me, her weight on top of me is quite pleasant. She stops kneading and leans down to bump foreheads and, rub my face with hers. Her silky hair has the sweet smell of a Catnip like herb she uses much as human females use perfume. Her breath is warm on my bare skin and, quite stimulating even if it does still smell of the fish she had for breakfast. She goes back to kneading. With each stroke she becomes more aroused and, strangely enough I find I’m responding in kind. Just as I have myself convinced that . . . WELL, What the heck, I remember the other felinoid in my life. I ask, "Where’s Tom?". "He there.", I’Aisha answers with a nod toward the door to the room. I look to see Tom peeking in from the hallway, wide eyed. Grabbing her hand/paws, mid knead, I say, "We need to see to his needs.". Sensing that the mood has been broken, I’Aisha tries to recapture it by leaning down and nuzzling me again. "Later", I whisper (MOST defiantly!) as I rise up to rest on my elbows. Dejected, I’Aisha climbs off me, gets out of bed and leads Tom to the living room. I dress and join them a few minutes later.

As I eat my breakfast, Tom, acting like most five year olds, is excitedly telling me all about beaming into Seattle and his train trip across the mountains. The item that has him most excited is a dog. While on the train he went exploring and met a couple with, what he calls a "Gold Receiver". From his description I take that to mean a Golden Retriever. Like most of its breed, it was very friendly and, playful and, like most five year old boys, Tom is in love. I’Aisha wasn’t so taken with the creature. Aside from having to compete for Tom’s attention, she says, "He come back smelling like G’ uruf!". Hopefully he won’t ask to get one. I can just see the havoc it could reek as it chases Bast up and down the Hanford’s passageways! As I finish my breakfast, I’Aisha announces that it is time for Tom to do his school work. After a short protest, he sits down at the house’s Data Terminal and, I sit I’Aisha down for a serious talk.

She understands Dad’s problem. The elderly of the Pa’UR can suffer from a similar affliction. What she has a problem understanding is that there is no one else that can care for him, coming from a big family. I realize I know more about her family than she knows about mine. Usually when the Hanford was at Earth before the busy season, I spent my time getting things ready and I’Aisha spent her time seeing the world. What I say next shocks both her and I but, it must be said, "I guess, if necessary, I’ll have to give the Hanford up and find a job that lets me stay here.".

What she says stuns me more, "Then I stay too!". I pull her close, give her a "human" hug and whisper, "Maybe it won’t come to that.".

WELL, here is the next log.  I thought things would get back to normal.  BOY WAS I WRONG!!!  Enjoy.

Your Captain

Hello, it has been a while since I posted a log but, I promise a new one will come soon.  I have been busy helping a friend get his site up and running.  I'll let him tell you about it, Sef. . .

Greetings I am Commander D'Sefet, a Caitian Starfleet officer.  I invite you to join me on my new post, Federation Installation 9 along the Kzinti/Federation border.  Come see how my crew of humans get along with their new friends, the tigerlike Kzinti.  Go to:

http://www.geocities.com/dsefet

and click on the link to my GROUP site.  There you will find the logs of FI-9 as well as other things of interest to felinoids and the unfortunate non-felinoids.  Have a look!

Your Captain here, speaking of GROUPS, I mirror the log entries I post here at my GROUP site:

http://www.geocities.com/capohanf

I also post pictures of the Hanford's cargo as well as other things of intrest there.  Go to this unfinished web page and click on the link to the group.  Enjoy!

Your Captain