The bridge of the USS Enterprise was, for once, not humming solely with the controlled cadence of duty. Instead, it was punctuated by the soft mrrrow of an unexpected passenger. A sleek, obsidian Egyptian Shorthair wound sinuously around Lieutenant Uhura’s legs before leaping nimbly into the lap of the ship’s science officer.

“Captain, there’s a cat on the bridge,” McCoy grumbled, eyeing the animal as if it had personally insulted his medical degree.

Spock, unbothered, continued monitoring his console, though the feline now perched on his shoulder, yellow eyes blinking slowly and deliberately. “Her name is Ankh,” he said with the mildest tilt of his head. “She boarded at Starbase 12. It appears she has taken a particular interest in this station.”

“You mean you,” Kirk smirked, arms folded. “Looks like you’ve made a new friend, Mister Spock.”

“I do not engage in friendships with animals, Captain. Ankh’s behavior suggests an affinity for my body heat, and perhaps my elevated perch offers her a clearer vantage of the room.” Spock’s fingers paused briefly in their work as the cat nudged her head beneath his jaw.

Uhura giggled. “She’s purring. That’s not about body heat.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “Purring is a vibration mechanism used by felines to soothe themselves. Her proximity to me is... coincidental.”

Ankh meowed loudly, pressing her face into his neck.

“She likes you,” Sulu said from helm, grinning.

“I am immune to such emotional attachments,” Spock replied.

The cat’s tail flicked, curling around his arm.

“Sure you are,” McCoy muttered. “And I suppose that purring is strictly logical, too.”

Spock did not reply. He merely reached up—absently, one might claim—and steadied Ankh as she shifted closer, her yellow eyes gleaming like twin suns against the blue of his uniform.