Office Hours, Tactics of War, Friday 6 - 7 PM FHT

[harringtongreen.livejournal.com]

After watching a message from home on her minicomp, Honor sat back in her chair, puzzled expression across her features. Willie and Hamish were on their way? And why had her mother sounded so vaguely ominous? She felt more than a little uneasy about the whole thing -- especially since she'd just provided her support for a few issues coming up for a vote in the Commons. Clearly something was going on that she should know about, and it was bad enough that it took both Alexanders to break the bad news.

Sensing her concern, Nimitz sat up in her lap, placing one truehand on each shoulder. He looked her directly in the eye and he gently soothed her nerves through their link. Silly person, his eyes seemed to say.

Honor chuckled. She reached up and scratched behind his ears, shaking her head. "You're right, Stinker. I can't worry about it just now. I have to get these grades ready."

The 'cat offered a definitive nod, then swarmed off her lap and onto a far corner of the desk. He sat there, tail flicking occasionally, and watching as she filled out the spaces in her gradebook.

Despite Nimitz' efforts, however, there was still a nagging voice in her mind that Hamish and his younger brother Willie couldn't be bringing good news.