Release the Hounds
Posted on Sun Mar 8th, 2026 @ 6:36pm by Minah Nezri & Cornelius Warner MS
Edited on on Sun Mar 8th, 2026 @ 6:37pm
1,404 words; about a 7 minute read
Mission:
What Lies Ahead, Between, and Behind
Location: Main Shuttlepad
"Thirteen, fourteen.... hm, I'm missing one."
Seated beneath a rather clingy pitbull mix sat a blond Trill woman. Behind her were a number of canines, none of which were in their crates. This was at the ire of the singular shuttle pilot, a Bajoran man who was stuck to his chair underneath a massive, slobbery Mastiff who had taken a liking to him.
"Miss Nezri, did you count this one?" he asked in exasperation.
The woman swiveled in her chair, eyes on the dog spilling out of the man's lap. "Oh there she is! I thought I'd lost her." She leaned over to give the giant pup a good pat on the butt that was hanging off the edge of the seat. "She must love you. She so rarely sets herself on strangers' laps."
Ignoring the sigh that came out of the pilot, the woman turned to the rest of her menagerie. "Soon we'll be down on a new planet with new smells and sights. I can't wait to see if we can get you all new homes too."
In fact, this was the first of many waves of dogs that the woman intended to introduce to the colony. She had already gifted two to the Captain in hopes that she could butter him up and get herself a good plot of land. Considering he asked for a third winter-type dog, she felt it necessary to make the 'house' call she was waiting on.
Luckily, it was arranged for her to arrive, or else the colony would have fifteen new dogs on their hands.
"Ma'am," the shuttle pilot stated curtly, "We're about to land. Please stay in your seat."
The pup in her lap gave the pilot an odd side-eye as if to say 'Where do you think she's going?', but it was soon wiped away by a look of surprise as the shuttle's landing jostled the pile of peppy pups. The pilot squinted as a chorus of barks erupted from the back of his shuttle. He let out a low growl, before rolling his eyes and slamming on the door controls.
Nearby, the woman heard the unsealing of the door as it started to open. "No, wait! Let me activate their-"
But it was too late. The moment the door swished open, the monsoon of excitable mutts spilled out, including the mastiff that was seated atop the lap of the pilot. Their barking and yipping cut through the thankfully silent shuttle pad, followed closely behind by their frazzled caretaker, who came running out fiddling with a small device on her belt.
"Come back, heel!" she shouted, though even she knew that would be to little avail. "Gosh darnit, someone slobbered on the leash control..."
Just off the landing of another shuttle sat the squat form of a Runabout loaded to the gills with brewing supplies being meticulously inventoried. It wasn't Cornelius' first time dealing with this particular supplier - a farm on some colony world that had recently begun redevelopment into niche food stocks. It was also not the first time their inventory controller had left an unorganized mess in the runabout, making it harder than ever to catch mistakes. Something they were unfortunately known for.
"Eight bags of galatica hops..." Cornelius muttered to the PaDD in his hands, dictating his orders against the invoice present before him. "Should be nine," he added as he looked about. The sound of distant barking caught his attention and he went to step back, stumbling over something he was sure shouldn't be there, and ending up laid out on his back staring up at a pair of deep brown eyes and a black and white snout.
"Bark," the Border Collie looking down at him insisted, in a way that sounded more like a command than Cornelius was necessarily comfortable with.
"Hello," he said back, reaching up to scratch at the dog's fluffy mane, and was rewarded with a deep wet lick across the face and up his nose. The brewmaster snorted and sputtered, clearing the taste of dog from his mouth as he stood, and looked about to see who might be at the centre of the hound hurricane that was spreading out from the landing pad around him. "Leave that," he commanded to the dog, finding it encouraging that the dog listened, and started towards the shuttle that seemed to be the source of all the chaos.
In the middle of the chaos sat the Trill woman, who had her belt of leash controls off and was desperately trying to wipe slobber off of it. "This is the last time we trust that company," she stated to the nearby Pomeranian pup. The dog stared up at her in mild disdain as the other fourteen dogs seemed intent on meeting new people, or worse. "I know, you'd never do anything so silly as to make a new friend." The woman gave the dog's head a good pat, before looking up and around to assess the situation. Chaotic, but not dangerous. This would be a good way for Haumea's folks to meet her dogs, as far as she was concerned.
She almost did not notice Cornelius come up until her fuzzy companion let out an eruption of small barks at the man. "Oh! Oh, shh. It's okay." Her voice went up an octave as she scooped the Pomeranian, still barking, into her lap. "Looks like we might have a little help?" She stated, though it was more a question to Cornelius than an attempt to soothe the mass of barking fuzz. She offered him a little smile and waved at him.
"Quite the collection," Cornelius commented as he scratched at the ear of the collie faithfully following on his heel, plopping itself on the ground as he stopped. "I don't believe we have met, I am Cornelius Warner, local business owner and proud gossip hound," he said with a wink and grin. As he approached more of the random dogs approached with varying levels of overt excitement at the newcomer and he couldn't help but laugh. "Now I know the people of Haumea have a need for some more excitement, but this is quite a lot more than I think any of us were expecting. What brings you and your furry friends to our neck of the backwoods?" he asked as he leaned down, submitting himself to an onslaught of new dogs to approach and cover in varying levels of affection.
"Minah Nezri," stated the Trill woman, a hint of amusement in her voice. "And I am one for the gossip myself. It's the best way to get these pups homes." While she seemed to be ignoring the dogs around her, most of them did mill close by. Even if they did terrorize the nearby staff and anyone in their reach. The Pomeranian at her side yipped up at Cornelius, tail wagging. Minah shook her head. "This is the first wave of dogs, by the way. Haumea will have to be ready for them. I've already had two dropped off here. So what's a few dozen more?"
Cornelius nodded a long, looking at the gaggle of dogs. It was true, one of the things the colony could no doubt benefit from was a little more regular interaction with something people could call 'normal'. He smiled a little watching the animals engage with one another and some of the ground crew handling. Watching the way they laughed and threw things for the pets to chase after was easy, and made everything feel a touch better. "I think a few dozen dogs running around will do some people some good."
"Lovely!" Minah gave the wonderfully obedient dog sitting at Cornelius's heels. "It looks like you've found a friend already, or did he find you?"
"I am a night owl, and rarely home. Wouldn't be super fair for a pet to have an absent master, and a brewpub is no place for a dog," Cornelius said with a sad sigh. "That said, you know who loves a good, obedient little friend?" A wicked smile started to spread across Cornelius' face. "The Marines. I bet you could find this fellow a good friend with a gaggle of jarheads. In fact... I believe they have a search and rescue team on planet too, could benefit from more than one dog." Oh yes, this worked out marvelously in Cornelius' head.
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