Outside the Box

It wouldn't hurt for someone to go find the captain, Ria thought, and decided to see what the mouse thought of the idea.  "With your permission, sir... could we contact the ship's captain?"

"Contact me for what?"

Two men rounded the corner, coming up the corridor in the same direction as the mice.

XO Dante Winters noticed Captain Gray's Santa hat was gone.  It wasn't Christmas anymore.  A check of the ship's chronometer revealed it was now January 2409 – not that anyone found it unduly odd.  Time flowed at a different rate in the fictional world.  Funny thing was, few seemed aware.

Clinging to walls, floor and ceiling, the army of 'mice' formed a squeaking blockade, from ceiling to floor, babbling about their treatment.  The one on Ria's shoulder leapt off to join them.

"I didn't know the mouse was..."  Zakova swallowed.  "An officer."  She wasn't quite sure she believed it.

The horde heaved in collective protest.  "Not mice!" they repeated, squeaking in collective unison.  "Hear you?  Not!  Not not!"

Apparently this happened fairly often – the creatures being mistaken for mice, rats, rodents, or other vermin; pests, an infestation—and they were sick of it.  On the other side, past the diplomatic officer, Zakova backed away, keeping her distance.

Gray and Winters traded looks, eyes traveling over the chattering critters.

"Order, order," Gray called out.

The mêlée died to an abrupt and sudden hush.  The furry throng stopped and turned, in sync, riveted on the box Gray carried, whiskers twitching, noses lifting.

Gray ogled the hundreds of (not-)mice.  Not mice, eh?  "Hungry?"  He opened the box and produced a white-frosted bell with red sugar sprinkles.  Christmas was over, but anytime was a good time for cookies.

After that, things got more orderly.  Haggling, discussing and checking crew assignments, they determined the critters' identities.  A shared intelligence, telepathic among themselves, they held a lieutenant commander's rank, working for dockyard ops.  Finished with checking the wiring in the science module they rode in on, they had sent one of their number up to report to the duty officer.  At its distress signal, the rest came running.

Nibbling on the bell-shaped cookie he kept for himself, Gray watched them scurry out of sight after making their report, leaving as quickly as they had arrived.  Intelligent talking (not-)mice.  Who said starship life was boring?  And they hadn't even made it out of dock yet.

Zakova's reaction notwithstanding, Gray said to Winters, "They might be useful," contemplating reassigning them to this vessel.  "What do you think, Commander?"  He eyed the empty box on the floor, the trail of crumbs and... droppings... left behind, after the critters departed.  That could be a problem, however.  "Have someone clean that up."

Zakova returned Ria's padd— "Oh, will you look at that; my shift just ended." —and promptly vacated herself.  She had to get to the bridge.