The cat, the child and the...

Posted on Thu Aug 20th, 2026 @ 11:09pm by Gunnar Arnason & Jarron von Münsterland & Jerant van Rijn

5,835 words; about a 29 minute read

Mission: Intermission: Safe Haven
Location: Medical center, Haven Colony
Timeline: Next morning

Gunnar came in and made a beeline for the coffee. He'd slept, but not enough to cover the exhaustion of several hours with a horde of Romulan children under his roof, and in the adjoining open space where someone had pitched a large tent. T'Ango had organized the tweens to look after the younger ones, but it was still a LOT.

In retrospect, he should have expected the ask when Hatham told him about the meeting after leaving the medical center. There had been some ruffled fur when he'd explained to situation to T'Ango, but she'd understood. After all, the only thing that would make such a meeting go worse was the adults there thinking about its subject being somewhere out there with their undefended children. And at least they'd gathered from adults retrieving children afterward that while meeting had been ...contentious... no tempers had flared to the point of physical injury. There was even some hope it would stay that way.

"Hello?" A young voice drew the nurse's attention. "Dad sent me here," the same voice apologised, appearing to belong to a Human looking teenage boy. Human looking if not for the dark shade of his eyes which was rather tell-tale. As he spotted Gunnar, the boy offered an uncertain smile. "I'm Jarron and I'm supposed to be checked out... Dad would've come but he felt it was better if he waited..."

It took a moment - Gunnar was as yet low on caffeine - but then he realized 'Dad' was referring to NVeid. "That's ...probably not a bad idea." He hadn't seen Emni yet today, and wasn't sure what to expect from her when he did. "In any case, I'm Gunnar Arnason. I can handle your exam."

Not even a minute later, the boy was joined by another dark haired, dark eyed Human looking male. "So am I and I apologise for not doing so yesterday," the man offered, smiling sheepishly. "I'm Jerant, and I had too much fun running around and exploring the area and the buildings. Savin asked to let you know he'll be here in an hour or so with the cat, if that's convenient for you."

Gunnar nodded. "There was no rush. I can take you both. Either separately or together, whichever you prefer." He took a sip of his coffee. At least he'd be able to hold onto it since they didn't need to sign. Though that brought up a thought - one which caused a grimace that he hid as best he could behind the lip of the mug. "If you haven't been told already, I'm not someone you should attempt to speak to telepathically."

"Uh...I prefer alone sir," Jarron answered politely, "and don't worry sir, I can't do telepathy, not unless it's another telepath involved. I can't read minds sir, only feelings. And I'm still learning to control it." He smiled apologetically, "I'll try not to read any feelings but I'm not sure I can fully avoid it, I'm sorry."

"I'll wait then," Jerant supplied, "and I'll honour the no telepathy request, but like Jarron, I can't avoid feelings, especially strong ones. I do reserve the exception for emergency situations."

Gunnar took a bracing swallow of coffee. "I'll tell you what I told your companions: a number of the Romulans here would be very uncomfortable with you reading their feelings, but I am not. I don't mind at all if you sense them. My sensitivity is only to telepathic contact. I understand if you must in an emergency, but it should be an emergency resort only when there's no non-telepathic option. Not only do I have a reflexive reaction that you would likely find ...distressing... but I may not be much use in an emergency if it triggers a flashback." That was a bit more than he'd explained to NVeid, but he'd had time to more rationally consider how to explain since then. And he wanted to be clear with the young man why 'emergency' needed to be very narrowly defined.

"For now, please have a seat. You can help yourself to coffee if you want," he said to Jerant. "Jarron, if you'll come with me, there's a private treatment room just ahead."

"Yes sir," the boy answered, following him to the private ward. "I'll try on the feelings but I'm not sure we can completely block it out." He looked genuinely apologetic. "Is there anything you need to know? Anything you want me to do? Or not..." Obviously. "I'm rarely sick but when I do, it's bad ."

"As I said, with me you don't have to try to block sensing feelings," Gunnar said as they entered the treatment room, only continuing after closing the door behind them. "However, particularly if you can't control it, around the other colonists it might be best to take the Vulcan philosophy that 'Withholding information is not a lie' and not disclose that ability or anything you sense because of it. I say this for your safety. Your agemates here are old enough honor knives, but necessarily mature enough to not react badly to what they find threatening or offensive." He didn't like making any patient uncomfortable, let alone fearful, but better that than treating knife wounds later. "Now then," he indicated the biobed for Jarron to get on, "I normally ask if there are any particular medical concerns, but I think I'd like to start with what you mean when you say that the rare times get sick, it's bad."

"The last time I was sick, and I don't know what it was, it's probably in my file..." The boy paused, looking anxious. "... from what dad told me I had a very high fever and I had to spend a few days in sickbay because I wasn't staying awake and I wasn't keeping anything in. I don't remember much of it, and I don't remember how old I was either." Another pause, this time looking uncomfortable. "But not telling them feels dishonest," he commented, "and surely they understand if I'm still learning?"

Gunnar scanned the medical record. "Ah, Ankaran flu. That would explain it, especially in a child. It looks as though you haven't had any relapses, or continuing susceptibility because of it." The rest of the record showed recovery from cold exposure - a bad case, but hardly something the Icelander noted as worth follow-up questions. So, after setting the medical scan to run, he addressed the boy's question. "Some few may be understanding, but if you imagine that would be the general case, you were very ill-prepared by whomever decided to send you here." Of course, he was beginning to think that was indeed the case, for both this child and the adults. "The fact that not discussing it 'feels dishonest' is to your credit from my Federation-raised point of view, but it would baffle the Romulans here. Which ought to tell you that no matter if you can sense their feelings, you do NOT understand them.

"Look, you've grown up in the Federation where freedom was a given. Try to understand that the people you are living among now didn't have that; the RSE was essentially a police state - no freedom of expression or even movement. And because the Tal'Shiar monitored for any signs of dissent, they were trained from an early age to not show what they were thinking or feeling in their expressions. The one place that was theirs, where they could be free, was their interior world of thought and emotions. I want you to think about how someone coming from that background and culture would feel knowing that you could violate that inner sanctum, even unintentionally."

"That's sad," Jarron commented sadly, "dad never really speaks of his past but anytime it comes up I get the feeling wherever he was, it was a bad place to be. I don't really ask, because I don't want to upset him, or anyone really. If not asking or not telling is the best way to go, I'll do my best not to." He paused, looking unhappy. "Even if that means hiding part of what makes me who I am, so someone else doesn't feel violated. It does feel wrong... but I get it, I guess. I don't want anyone to feel bad around me...what if I'm directly asked about my heritage? My eyes are a dead give away... should I hide that too?"

"I know it's difficult," Gunnar replied sympathetically. "There was a time in my life when my friends despaired of how honest I was. Couldn't bluff at poker save my life," he shook his head with a half-smile, recalling his younger self, "but to save other lives, I had to learn. Every time I went to a Romulan world to smuggle people out, I went disguised as a Romulan. Letting anyone know who I really was would have endangered us all." He glanced at the medical readouts - all good so far, though there was anxiety beyond normal exam jitters. "This situation isn't that dire, but it could be a problem. If asked about your heritage, I think you could honestly say that you're part Betazoid, but not a telepath, and leave it at that."

"But I'm not a telepath..." Jarron sighed miserably. "I can't read thought, and never will. I'm actually glad for that to be honest, I think it'd drive me nuts and I don't get how dad does this... I don't understand how he doesn't read them either..." The boy leaned back on the bed, staring at the ceiling for a moment before he turned his head. "I don't know how to not sense feelings, I'd love to be able not to, and as you suggested I won't tell people unless directly asked. But what if I can't help reacting? What if it's so strong it overwhelms me? How long did it take you to learn to...bluff?"

Gunnar's heart went out to the kid. Compared to the Romulans here, he'd led a charmed life, but it had left him ill-prepared for living outside core worlds in the Federation. By 14 most Romulans would have learned to control showing reactions to anything except situations that made them snap, and then violence would be the only expression of emotion. "I was in my twenties, and I learned in part as a matter of survival." He frowned, looking away a moment. "I wouldn't wish that crash course on anyone. But I succeeded because the tools were there from my childhood and medical training. My father is a vet and my grandparents have a horse farm, so I learned to be calm and not show fear around animals that were scared or lashing out. In medical I learned to compartmentalize - shutdown my reactions, even to shocking or terrible wounds, to focus on the person in need. When the need became not divulging information that could harm people important to me, I found I could do the same. Not perfectly, but enough, and with practice I got better at it."

Realizing that probably hadn't been terribly useful, he tried to think of how put it better. "For me, the trick was focusing outside myself. Not on the fear I felt, but what the animal did. Not on the visceral reaction to an open wound, but what the patient needed from me. I don't know what will work for you. I try to be empathetic, but I'm not an empath, so I don't know what you experience. I'd say, if you can mask whatever you're feeling as a sudden headache or nausea, that might the simplest way to cover for now."

"That's not a bad idea and not quite a lie either," Jarron remarked, "it gives me a headache plenty of times for real." Then he just looked at the man. "Horses? I've never seen a horse...heard of them but I've never seen one." His distraction was sufficient enough not to be aware too much of the man's emotions towards him. It now that his attention was drawn towards it, he closed his eyes for a moment as they washed over him. "I don't know how to explain...I don't know how it works. I just... feel what someone else feels."

Never seen a horse - the probability elicited a greater feeling of pity than anything else. Gunnar reached for his PADD and brought up images from home. "These are horses," he said, turning it for Jarron to see. The scene showed green hills and a line of horses in colors from black to roan to grey and some with splashes of different colors. They had long manes and tails, and riders on their backs - the lead rider looked like a teenage version of the man next to him. The emotions coming from him were warmth, happiness, and a touch of nostalgia. "I miss them. Maybe once we find a permanent place, I'll try to have some brought out."

Jarron couldn't help the sense of nostalgia and happiness, and it mixed with his own feelings if awe and wonder. "Wow...they look awesome. They're Earth creatures right? I'm half Human, but I've never been to earth." He continued to stare at the image, leaning a little closer as he pointed at one of the riders. "That's you, isn't it?"

"Yes, to both questions. Horses are native to earth, and that's me when I was just a little older than you are now." Gunnar smiled over his shoulder at the picture - good memories. "I used to help guide horseback tours in the summer. You should ride if you're ever on earth or anywhere else with horses, since a lot of colonies have them too - in many varieties, most are larger the breed here, though not as sturdy," he added loyally. "I'm not sure if you can sense emotions from animals, but horses are smart, intuitive, especially when they bond with a rider."

"I actually don't know," Jarron confessed, his expression still one of awe as he tore his eyes away from the image and handed the PADD back. "I've never tried to, it never occurred to me but if horses are intelligent I probably should? I don't know if Counselor Savin can sense his cat but it's worth trying?" He shifted on the bed, somewhat restlessly. "So there aren't any horses here?" He was clearly interested and the fact that Jerant was still waiting was clearly not on the boy's mind.

"They aren't sentient, but certainly intelligent. They learn and they'll try to train us too - figure out what makes us give them a favorite treat and repeat it or try variations or try it on other people." He chuckled remembering Fenja 'stealing' something from a tourist's coat because it was same kind of coat his cousin wore, and carrots were always in the pocket. When he'd explained, after saving her minipadd, the tourist had wanted a carrot to share. He'd had to make the mare do a trick first so she wouldn't learn that sticking her nose in pockets earned a treat. "Either way, I'm positive they have feelings." He swallowed a sigh. "Sadly, there aren't any here to test it, but horses need fodder and we need crops for people before we can start thinking about adding large domestic animals. Still, most animals have feelings so I'm sure the cat does too."

Glancing at the biomonitor, he realized the scan was finished and both Jerant and the cat would be waiting. "In any case, your scan shows you're in good health. It's been a pleasure meeting you. I'll send you information about horses if you're interested."

Not needing to be told twice, Jarron hopped off the bed. "Yessir, I am," he beamed at the man, "I'll go and run to get the cat, during our trip here Mister Van Rijn made no secret of hating the little creature. And it'll save the Counselor a trip. Unless you want to talk to him about her of course, then I'll tell him to come." He had obviously missed Jerant's statement about his friend coming by with his pet.

"I'll send that as soon as I'm free then," Gunnar replied. "You can tell Jerant to come in."

As soon as he saw Jarron duck out, Jerant stepped up, tightly clutching the PADD with his latest records. Most notable was a brush with death after being infected with a Cardassian designed virus which affected hybrids. It had robbed him completely of his telepathy and had affected his memory during the affliction. It had taken months for his natural gift to return and he had felt miserable. More so because it had caused a rift between him and his Betazoid boyfriend and he had ended up walking away because the man kept pushing him away. It had broken his heart but he had moved on from it.

"What'd you do? I haven't seen that kid in such bright spirits in quite some time," he queried curiously. "It'll certainly make his father happier."

"I showed him horses," Gunnar replied, a smile reflecting his own love for the subject. But at mention of NVeid, he realized he'd only heard the colonists' reaction to the meeting. "How is his father?"

"I haven't seen him since yesterday but shouldn't he be here any second now?" Unless he was somehow restricted from work but surely he would've heard some gossip on that subject while on his way here? "I can check in with him later if you like, or you can send Savin? Who should be here with that monster of his any minute now too?"

"I'll check on Nveid later if neither or you can. Jarron went to fetch the cat. I take it you aren't a fan of felines?" he asked mildly. Despite a decided prejudice toward felines, he knew that some (poor benighted) people didn't like them.

"They'll run into each other then as I said Savin would arrive an hour or so after I did. Doesn't matter though and I like cats just not this one. She hates me..." Jerant smiled wryly. "Anyway...where and how do you want me?"

"She might just be possessive of Savin," Gunnar observed. It wouldn't be the first time he'd heard of a pet taking a dislike to someone who became too close to 'their' person. "In any case, you can give me your records to enter and get up on biobed. You can sit or lay back as you prefer," he said, resetting the bioscanner for a new patient. "Are there any particular concerns I should be aware of?"

Jerant handed the PADD over and eased himself back on the bed. "No, all that there's to know is on that PADD. Savin updated it before we transferred."

"Okay." Gunnar began transferring the medical files, making notes as he went along. His lips flattened at seeing the virus - he couldn't help thinking it was exactly the sort of thing Gul Gotto and his faction would have done. He added a level to the scan to check that the virus had been completely eliminated. The Romulans here were pureblooded, but Nancy was a hybrid, as was T'Ango, albeit 5 generations back. "I hope you're finding your way around the colony," he said by way of making polite conversation as the scan ran.

"Marvelous views from the rooftops," Jerant grinned excitedly, " just need to find some better handholds as I took a few tumbles. nothing bad, thankfully though, not from high up anyway and I know how to roll with a less than stellar landing. He noticed the flattening of the nurse's mouth and he knew exactly what he was reading. "I was all cured, though I lost my telepathy for several months. It was NVeid who helped develop a cure and a vaccine. I was told he exposed himself and tested it on himself, before it was given to me and my boyfriend. We were dying by that stage, almost comatose. I don't remember much from the time I was sick, but I was glad I wasn't alone."

Gunnar nodded - that would explain a few bruises. He hadn't thought they'd come from a fight since even Romulan kids would do a lot more damage than that. And the explanation of the cure explained the 'tested it on himself' that had had Nancy rolling her eyes over NVeid yesterday. "It appears to be completely cleared from your system," he assured as the results came up. "Rooftops, eh? Is your sport parkour or climbing?"

"Parkour. Been doing it for years as an outlet. I may not be much of a fighter but I'll outrun anyone," he answered brightly. "Sure, I've had bad landings before and broken a few bones but it's never stopped me. And if I have doubts about a jump I won't make it. Do you run too?"

"I climb - rock-climbing, though walls if nothing else is available. Or if T'Ango decides to climb them." He shook his head slightly, a fond smile on his face. "My wife hasn't met a height she doesn't want to scale, but then she's felinoid, so that's kind of hardwired. She'd probably enjoy parkour too. There was running joke with her marine unit about how she liked to assault through ductwork," he chuckled. "I'm not built for squeezing through that kind of course. As to running, I'm more of a distance runner than a sprinter."

"Ductwork?" Jerant arched an eyebrow at him in question. "I don't know what that is... and I suppose I climb too, but not rocks. Wouldn't mind trying that though. Do you do the free climbing, or anchored?"

"Air and HVAC ducts," he explained, pointing to a decent sized vent cover near the ceiling. "I like rock climbing best - more challenge than the regular holds on buildings and I just like being in nature. I free climb, but use anchors if the terrain calls for it. Or if we're cliff camping, of course."

"Ah .. not my cup of tea either, crawling through vents that is. I've never used anchors while running. I've never been rock climbing though, it sounds like something I might enjoy as a change of pace." He realised he might actually be happier here in the colony than he had been on a ship, despite the telepathic restrictions going on. "Cliff camping?" He shuddered at the idea. "Sounds very frightening to me." He turned his head towards the monitor, which beeped and blipped softly. "So...am I danger free to the rest of the people?"

"I'll let you know if we come across any good rock climbing here. So far, we've been too busy to scout any out. Don't worry, we won't invite you to cliff camp, it's for experienced climbers, but not as frightening as you might imagine." At the chirp from the monitor, he checked the scan. "You're healthy - only a danger to anyone if you fall on them from a rooftop," Gunnar joked, signing off on his exam.

"I'll endeavour not to fall then," Jerant smiled, "thanks for the sign off. And I can do some scouting around while my duties are still getting sorted." He hopped off the bed, seemed to zone out a moment then smiled..."and there's the queen and her servant. Time for me to run!"

As he ducked out, a surprised looking counselor walked in, carrying a surprisingly calm snow white and blue eyed cat with moderately long and well groomed fur. "Good morning Gunnar," Savin greeted politely. "As promised, this is Sheba."

"Good morning," Gunnar replied, and moving slowly, making sure the cat saw him since he recalled she was deaf, he bent and held a hand toward her so she could take his scent. He didn't attempt to touch her yet, since T'Ango's scent was unavoidably all over him and some felines reacted defensively to felinoids. "And good morning, Sheba. She's a beautiful girl."

"That she is," Savin agreed as he watched his pet sniff at Gunnar's extended fingers, expelling a sigh of relief when she reached out and headbutted his hand, demanding attention. "Well...that is something," he murmured, "she does nothing but hiss at Jerant, which is somewhat surprising as she was a gift from Jerant six years ago. As a result, he gives her as wide a berth as possible."

"That's surprising," Gunnar remarked as he complied with the demand for attention, stroking her head and moving a hand gently along her body - part exam and part petting - as he used his other hand to sign. "He'd mentioned she didn't like him, but I'd thought it was jealousy. Cats don't generally bond to people the way dogs do, but they do get possessive, especially when a new person takes too much of their person's attention. But if he's known her since she was kitten, that shouldn't be the case."

"She has been like this since day one," Savin admitted as he felt the cat's purring while he held her. Carefully, he positioned her on the bed but maintained visual and physical contact for the moment. "I used to keep her in my office on my prior assignment so she would not be alone in my quarters. Jerant rarely visited my office as he does not attend my counselling sessions unless absolutely necessary. She is a point of comfort to me and occasionally, to the patient too. She has never been aggressive towards a patient, but she constantly hisses and claws at Jerant. Perhaps it is jealousy and is she sensitive to our bond?"

"It could be. That certainly sounds like territorial behavior, almost as if Jerant were a rival cat." Gunnar shook his head slightly, but still smiling fondly at the cat as he moved to scritching her under the chin. When she seemed relaxed and leaning into that, he looked at Savin and said, "I'm going to need both hands for a moment." Then taking the hand not on the cat, he retrieved a medscanner and brought it first to Sheba's view, then ran it slowly just above her head and along her body, making sure to continue the attention that had her leaning into his other hand as he did.

"A rival cat...Jerant.." That elicited a chuckle from the counselor. "Do not let him hear that. She seems remarkably calm under your ministrations, I have not seen her so this with prior medical exams. Usually, she had to be sedated."

"Could be the running parkour makes him seem like an adolescent cat to her," Gunnar joked. Finishing the scan, he set the scanner aside and rubbed her ear with a smile. "She has been a delight to examine, so much better than so many Starfleet crew," if either of them could've heard tone, his voice would have sounded almost like a soft purr, or an adult doting on a sweet child, "but I'm experienced with cats. I grew up in a vet practice, with many pets of our own. Plus, I think cats can spot a sucker - she knows she could get me to share a treat." He smiled, lifting brows at Savin. "Since she's been good, can I give her one? I brought a little piece of harðfiskur - a dried fish - in case she was wary of me."

"Sheba is my first pet, I never had a pet before, not even as a child. But my father told me once that as a child I was always bringing wounded animals to his practice for him to look after." He nodded his consent. "Of course, good behaviour should be rewarded. And she does like fish."

Reaching into his pocket, Gunnar took out a small bag and removed a morsel, placing in the palm of his hand to offer to Sheba. "A reward also makes it easier to bring her back if she needs care," he explained, though from his smile it was clear that he also just liked making an animal happy. "Since people brought wounded animals to us, I was more often helping with looking after them as they recovered. In a way that was my start in nursing." He smiled at Savin. "Perhaps caring for wounded animals was your start in healing as well."

"Quite likely, and growing up near a medical facility. While I am a qualified doctor, most of my career has been in mental healing. Quite challenging for one with a hearing deficiency like mine, but I have found it quite fulfilling."

"My thesis was on the impact of psychosocial support on patient outcomes, so I took a lot of courses that dual listed with Counseling. One of the important aspects was less listening than paying attention, and I imagine a hearing deficit led you to pay closer attention both to a patient's words and their nonverbal cues." And that reminded Gunnar of the man's close relationship with NVeid. "Somewhat related to that, I wanted to ask if you know how NVeid is doing this morning."

"Exactly," Savin agreed, "and not so much about asking questions but guiding a patient. Letting the patients tell their own story on their own terms, when and where they are comfortable. It has led me to places on a starship I would normally not consider going." He paused as he was asked about his colleague and friend. "Last I saw him was when he parted ways with Jarron. He may well be speaking to people he needs to, though I hope would come here eventually?" He watched Sheba paw at Gunnar's hand for more fish. "Do not give her more or she will not stop. She needs to learn to connect the fish treats to medical procedure and a reward for behaving."

Gunnar looked at the cat and shook his head, albeit with small sympathetic frown. "Probably for the best. I'll make sure I have some on hand whenever she's scheduled to come in." He had nodded to Savin's observations on patients. They shared a philosophy there and bode well for working together. Provided the colony didn't become too difficult for NVeid. "I'm glad if NVeid's absence is only that. The end of day yesterday was ...stressful."

Savin nodded. "I will look for him and speak with him," he promised, "I know this was difficult for him, and for others. I have vouched for him as I have worked with him on our last assignment. In the two brief periods I stepped up to chief medical officer, one time being temporary, the last time permanently, he was under my direction command and I have never experienced issues with his devotion to his work. Certainly, there are always those with species bias, I have encountered it myself since I have announced my true heritage. I could have continued as Vulcan and never say anything but that would be defeating the purpose of my profession, not to mention denying who I am."

He picked up the cat and cradled her in his arms, the creature very clearly being a point of comfort for him as the current situation was equally distressing to him. "I will speak with him," he repeated, "though my recommendation would be for the medical staff here to keep doing so too. If permitted, do not exclude him from medical matters. Inform him of current procedures and give him a purpose even if it is not surgery." Of course he was unaware of the current decision not to permit him to perform surgery in the colony for the time being.

Gunnar sighed. "Unfortunately, in this case, it's the prejudice of the species. Or rather, the prejudice learned from lives spent in the RSE; you're evidence that the 'paranoia' typically associated with Romulans is not nature but nurture. However, I understand all too well how hard it is to overcome that conditioning. It took quite some time and work to shed the mindset that had helped me survive as a prisoner. And while my friends were all looking at me with concern, the home of Romulan ex-pats became a sort of haven as they seemed to think I'd 'matured'," his lips turned in a wry half-smile, "which perhaps explains why I'm so comfortable living among them."

Seeing the way Savin held the cat, he added. "I suppose what I'm trying to say is that I'll try to be a bridge between them and NVeid, but it's likely to be a long journey, even with the other medical staff. I haven't had a chance to talk with Dr. Gable since yesterday, so I don't know what she has planned, but I know surgery is out. Even if he had no Tal'Shiar connection, he can't communicate without his hands other than by telepathy, so there's no one here who could assist." He looked down with a frown, knowing he was part of that problem. Ironic that another reason he'd been comfortable here was that telepaths wouldn't be welcome, and so presumably none would show up. What was it Dr. Levin used to say? 'Man plans; God laughs'. "For his sake, I wish it were otherwise, but as I said, I'll do what I can."

"I think he will appreciate that, but I also believe everyone will simply need time. And the best way for this is to see him work, and allow him to engage about what he does. He actually does enjoy teaching, I have observed him explaining surgical procedures to young doctors fresh from the academy." He smiled sadly. "I also know he is deeply emotional so do not be surprised if he tells you he needs a moment alone. Either way, I will speak with him if and when I see him and you do what you are able to. You will have a loyal friend, if you let him."

And if anyone here was ready to trust him, Gunnar would suggest putting him to teaching first aid to the children old enough to learn. But given how protective Romulans were of their children, especially now, that would take even longer. He couldn't help thinking that NVeid would be better placed, and happier, at a Betazoid teaching hospital, but he didn't say it. The man had come hoping to help his people. It wasn't his fault whatever idiot in Starfleet approved this hadn't bothered to read his brief and/or think it through. "Most of that is up to others, but I'll help where I can. For now, I'll let you go, but feel free to bring Sheba by anytime. She's a delight."

"It is that a hospital is no place for a feline, otherwise I would allow her to roam," Savin smiled. "And I have no doubt he will appreciate your help, just be sure to let him know. Good day to you Gunnar, and if there is anything I can do for you, let me know."

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