The Trouble With Tribbles (Star Trek 2009)

"Space Station K7 now within sensor range, Captain," Selene reported. She, Jim, Spock, and Chekov were in one of the smaller meeting rooms. Sometimes it was nice to get away from all of the hustle and bustle that dominated the rest of the ship.
"Good," Jim replied, reclining in his chair. "Mr. Chekov, this flight is supposed to provide both experience and knowledge. How close will we come to the nearest Klingon outpost if we continue on our present course?"
"One parsec, sir," Chekov replied dutifully. "Close enough to smell them."
"That is illogical, Mr. Chekov," Spock responded. "Odors cannot travel through the vacuum of space."
"I was making a little joke, sir," Chekov explained, disappointed that Spock hadn't gotten the joke.
"Extremely little," Spock retorted, causing Selene to nearly spit out the mouthful of pomegranate juice she had been drinking at the time.
Restraining herself enough to swallow the mouthful of beverage, she wiped her mouth delicately and then upbraided Spock for making such a joke at such an inopportune time. "If I didn't know better, I would have thought that you had planned it that way."
"I have no idea what you are talking about."
"This is all quite entertaining," Jim readily admitted. "But, we have business to attend to. Mr. Spock, immediate past history of the quadrant?"
"Under dispute between the two parties since initial contact. A battle was fought here nearly 23 solar years ago. Inconclusive."
"Analysis of disputed area, Mrs. Sulu?"
"Undeveloped, Jim. Sherman's Planet is claimed by both sides. But, between the Federation and the Klingon Empire, we've got the better claim."
"The area was first mapped by the famous Russian astronomer Ivan Burkov almost two-" Chekov began.
"John Burke," Selene corrected.
"Burke, ma'am?" She nodded, an indulgent smile gracing her features. "I don't think so. I'm sure it was-"
"John Burke," Spock repeated. "He was the chief astronomer at the Royal Academy in Old Britain at the time."
"Oh. Royal Academy," Chekov replied derisively. "Well-"
"Is the rest of your history that faulty, Chekov?" Jim teased. "Key points of dispute?" he asked returning to the matter at hand.
"Under the terms of the Organian peace treaty, one side or the mother must prove it can dewelop the planet most efficiently," Chekov answered, eager to prove that he did know history. After all, it wasn't his fault that the others, even Spock, had been so ill-informed about astronomic history. Unfortunate, but not everyone could be educated in Russia.
"And unfortunately, though the Klingons are brutal and aggressive, they are most efficient," Jim admitted.
"I remember once, Peter the Great had a problem like that. He-" Chekov reminisced before being cut off by an incoming communication.
"Captain?" Uhura's voice inquired.
"Kirk here," he confirmed.
"Captain, I'm picking up a subspace distress call. Priority Channel. It's from Space Station K7."
"Go to Code 1 Emergency," Kirk ordered. He and the others sprung into action.
"Code 1 Emergency?" Chekov asked. "That's Red Alert!"
"Red Alert!" Uhura's voice announced from every speaker aboard the ship. "All crewmembers to battle stations. All passengers are restricted to quarters and directed to secure themselves until further notice. The nearest security officers are directed to make sure all passengers are properly secured."
There were no passengers aboard the starship. But, according to Starfleet, that's what the children were considered. 
Captain's Log. Stardate: 4523.3. Deep Space Station K7 has issued a Priority 1 call. More than an emergency, it signals near or total disaster. We can only assume the Klingons have attacked the station. We're going in armed for battle.
"Main phasers armed and ready, sir," Chekov reported. Something wasn't right. There were no Klingon ships. "There's nothing there. Just the station."
"Priority 1 distress call, and it's absolutely peaceful," Jim mumbled, flipping a few switches at the helm console. He looked to his First and Second Officers, but they were just as confused as he was. "Commander Uhura, break subspace silence."
"The channel is open, sir," she replied almost immediately. The communications board was like an extension of herself.
"Space Station K7, this is Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise. What is your emergency?" This had better not be some kind of false alarm or he would be pissed.
"Captain Kirk, this is Mr. Lurry, manager of K7. I must apologize for the distress call."
"Mr. Lurry, you issued a Priority 1 distress call. State the nature of your emergency." Son of a bitch! He just knew this was a false alarm. Oh, was Starfleet going to hear about this. You couldn't just issue that kind of emergency signal and then act liked you had dialed the wrong number.
"Uh…Well…Perhaps you had better beam over. I'll try to explain," Mr. Lurry replied.
"You'll try to explain," Kirk repeated incredulously. "You'd better be prepared to do more than that! Kirk out," he said, signaling Uhura to end the subspace communication. There was going to be hell to pay when he got over to that station. "Spock, Selene, I'll need your help. Chekov, Sulu, maintain battle readiness. Uhura, make sure the transporter room is standing by."
"Aye, sir."
The three of them beamed aboard the space station where Mr. Lurry was waiting for them. And none of them were pleased. Least of all Jim. "Mr. Lurry, if there was no emergency, why did you issue a Priority 1 distress call."
"That was my order, Captain," another man chimed in.
"Captain Kirk, this is Neil Barrett," Mr. Lurry introduced. "He's out from Earth to take charge of the development of the project for Sherman's Planet."
"And that gives you the authority to put an entire quadrant on defense alert?" Jim asked angrily.
"Mr. Barrett is the Federation Undersecretary in charge of Agricultural Affairs in this quadrant," yet a third man answered defensively.
Spock quirked an eyebrow in interest before remarking to his companions, "And that gives him the authority."
Selene merely frowned. She couldn't give a rat's ass who the man was; she did not appreciate someone sending her children and crew into battle stations for no good reason. If there was no emergency, she was going to throw something heavy at someone.
"This is my assistant, Arnold Darvin," Mr. Barrett introduced.
"This is my First Officer, Mr. Spock, and my Second Officer, Mrs. Sulu," Jim replied out of deference rather than courtesy. The other three nodded and greeted them. Spock returned the nod, while Selene just glared and struggled not to stick her tongue out at them.
"And, now, Captain," Mr. Barrett began. "I want all available security guards. I want them posted around the storage compartments."
"Storage compartments? Storage compartments?" Jim repeated, unable to believe what he was hearing. It was ridiculous. They had been called to guard grain?
"The storage compartments containing the quadrotriticale," Mr. Arnold explained.
"The what?" Jim asked, too angry to think. "What the hell is that?"
"Here," Mr. Lurry said, holding out a pouch to Kirk.
Jim poured some of the blue grains into his hand. "Wheat? So what?"
"Quadrotriticale is not wheat, Captain," Mr. Barret responded. "Of course, I wouldn't expect you or your officers to know these things. But, quadrotriticale is a rather-"
Selene couldn't take it anymore. She had to say something. It was either that or smack Mr. Barrett across the face. Insulting her intelligence was one thing, but insulting the intelligence of her friends was a different matter entirely. "Excuse me! I don't wear science officer blue because I think it matches my eyes," she hissed. "Quadrotriticale is a high-yield grain. A four-lobed hybrid of wheat and rye. A perennial, also, if I'm not mistaken. Care to go on, Mr. Spock?"
"Thank you, Mrs. Sulu. I shall. It's root grain, tritacale, can trace it's ancestry all the way back to 20th century Canada-" He, too, could have gone on, had he not been interrupted.
"That's enough, you two. You made your point," Jim smirked, amused.
"Quadrotriticale is the only Earth grain that will grow on Sherman's Planet," Mr. Lurry explained. "We have several tons of it here on the station. It's very important that grain gets to Sherman's Planet safely. Mr. Barrett thinks that Klingon agents might try to sabotage it."
"You issued a Priority 1 distress call for a couple of tons of wheat?" Jim asked, the amusement from his first and second officers' antics having very quickly worn off.
"Quadrotriticale," Mr. Arnold corrected, drawing glares from both Jim and Selene.
"Of course, Captain, I realize that we-"
"Mr. Barrett," Jim interrupted. "You summoned the Enterprise without an emergency. You'll take full responsibility for it."
"What do you mean?" Barrett asked.
Selene took great pleasure in informing him that "Misuse of the Priority 1 Channel is a Federation offense."
"I did not misuse the Priority 1 Channel," Barrett maintained. "I want that grain protected."
"Captain, couldn't you at least post a couple of guards?" Mr. Lurry requested. "We do have a large number of ships passing through."
"It would seem a logical precaution, Captain," Spock stated. "The Sherman's Planet affair is of extreme importance to the Federation."
Neither Jim nor Selene were pleased with what Spock had said, but they knew better than to argue with him, especially when he made sense. She sighed as Jim pulled out his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise."
"Enterprise here," Uhura replied, still battle-ready.
"Secure from general quarters. Beam down two, and only two, security guards." Barrett wasn't pleased. "Tell them to report to Mr. Lurry and authorize shore leave for all off-duty personnel."
"Yes, Captain," she replied happily. This day had improved quickly. It had gone from battle stations to vacation within a few minutes. Awena had been looking forward to another outing anyway.
"Kirk out."
"Captain Kirk, how dare you authorize a mere two men for a project of this importance," Barrett said outraged. "Starfleet Command-"
"I have never questioned the orders or intelligence of any representative of the Federation," Jim interrupted. "Until now," he added, as he and his companions turned and left the room very quickly. This time, Selene didn't bother trying to contain her mirth.
At a bar somewhere on the station, Jim was venting his frustrations to Spock and Selene as he waited for the rest of the crew to arrive. "Summoning a starship on a Priority A1 Channel to guard some storage compartments. Storage compartments of wheat!"
"Nevertheless, the Klingons would not enjoy seeing a successfully developed Sherman's Planet," Spock reminded him.
"I guess not," Jim agreed, sharing the rest of his drink with Selene.
As they were leaving the bar, they encountered Uhura, Awena, Naoki, and Pavel. Hikaru had elected to stay behind and watch the younger three.
"I see you didn't waste any time in taking your shore leave," Jim observed.
"How often do I get shore leave?" Uhura reminded him.
"She wants to shop, and I thought I would help her vith the young ones," Pavel explained.
"Hi, Mom," Naoki stated happily. "No emergency?"
"No emergency," she confirmed. "I take it you and Awena wanted to go shopping too?"
"Not really, but shopping is better than no shore leave at all," Naoki shrugged, causing both mothers to laugh.
"Excuse me, excuse me," a man in a raggedy coat said, edging past the group.
"Nao, what do you make of this?" Selene asked, handing him the pouch of quadrotriticale they still had from earlier.
"Oh, quadrotriticale," he observed. "Awena told me about this, but I've never seen any before."
"Does everybody know about this wheat but me?" Jim inquired, somewhat embarrassed that even the kids knew more about it than he did.
"Well, not everyone, Captain," Chekov said. "It's a Russian inwention."
"Oh," Jim sighed, deciding to give up, not wanting to start the same argument all over again. He and Spock departed, with Selene electing to remain behind with Uhura, Chekov, and the children. Unfortunately, Spock didn't have the luxury of remaining behind.
"I've told you before and I'll tell you again, I don't want any more Spikan Flamejems," the bartender told the same man in the raggedy coat who had passed the Starfleet group. "Thanks to you, I already have enough to last me a lifetime."
"That's too bad for you, my friend. You won't find a better looking stone anywhere," the man replied. "But, I have something better." He reached into one of the many pockets in his jacket and pulled out a crystal flask. "Surely you want some Antarian Flow Water?"
"I use that to polish the Flamejems," the bartender replied, rolling his eyes.
The Starfleet group watched the exchange with mild interest.
"You're a difficult man to reach. But, I have something from the far reaches of the galaxy," the raggedy man said, pulling yet another mysterious item from one of the numerous pockets in his coat. It was a small little ball of fur. The ladies interest was piqued. "Surely you want-"
"Not at your price," the bartender said.
"What is it?" Selene asked.
"Is it alive?" Nyota queried.
"May I hold it?" Awena inquired. The raggedy salesman beamed and handed the little ball of fuzz to the little quarter-Vulcan girl.
"Oh, it's adorable," her mother gushed, gazing over her daughter's shoulder.
"What is it?" Naoki asked, echoing his own mother.
"What is it? Why, young man, it is a Tribble," the raggedy man answered.
"A Tribble?" Selene repeated. She had never heard the term before.
"Only the sweetest creature known to man," the salesman affirmed. "Exceptin' of course you lovely ladies."
"It's purring," Awena laughed. The others were more than a little shocked at her blatant emotional response, but the mothers supposed that she was still a little girl and was entitled to such.
"Listen, it's purring," Awena repeated holding the Tribble up to Chekov, who smiled at her.
"It's only saying that it likes you," the salesman informed her.
"Are you selling them?" Nyota asked.
"That's what we're trying to decide right now," the bartender replied.
"My friend, ten credits apiece is a very reasonable price," the salesman responded. "You can see for yourself how much these lovely ladies appreciate the finer things."
"One credit apiece," the bartender replied, his tone suggesting that he was not going to haggle.
"He von't bite, vill he?" Chekov asked.
"Sir, transporting harmful animals from one planet to another is against regulations, or weren't you aware of that?" the bartender retorted. "Besides, Tribbles have no teeth."
"Alright, I'll double my offer," the bartender acquiesced, seeing how much the group was enjoying playing with the Tribble. "Two credits."
"Twice nothing is still nothing," the salesman shot back.
"Well, if you're not going to take him, I will," Nyota piped up. Awena had never been so obviously interested in anything since she heard about spending New Years in San Francisco with Naoki. "I think he's cute."
"Four credits," the bartender offered.
"Is that an offer or a joke?"
"That's my offer."
"That's a joke," the salesman said, collecting some of the other wares he had displayed on the bar counter.
"Five?"
"I can see you're an honest man. I'll take you what I'm going to do. I'm going to lessen my price to eight credits," he laughed.
"You're talking yourself out of a deal," the bartender replied. "Six credits and not a credit more."
"Seven and a half!" he shouted. The bartender shook his head. "Seven?" Still negative. "Oh, alright, you win. Six credits."
"Done. When can I have them?"
"Right away."
"Alright," Uhura said. "What are you selling them for?" Awena wanted that Tribble and Nyota was going to get it for her.
"Well, let me see young lady. I got them for six, but if you factor in a reasonable mark-up for a reasonable profit…say, a 10% mark-up…ten credits. In fact, I'll sell you this one," he said, pointing at the Tribble who was still resting in Awena's hands even as it ate some of the grain from Naoki's. "That'll be ten credits," the bartender repeated, plucking the Tribble from Awena's hands.
"That'll be six credits," Nyota retorted, plucking the Tribble right back. As she restored it to her daughter, she told the bartender, "And let me tell you something, just because I am nearly nine months pregnant does not mean I am incapable of kicking your ass barehanded. So, if you ever take something from my daughter like that again, not only will you have me to deal with, you'll also have to deal with her father, who is also in Starfleet. Her overprotective, half-Vulcan, super-strong, rather irritable father. Do I make myself clear?"
"Perfectly. Please, take it for free," the bartender begged.
"Good, because if you didn't I probably would have nerve-pinched you and taken it anyway," Selene informed him. "You will not treat her like that again."
"Mom, you and Aunt Nyota scare me sometimes," Naoki stated, looking perfectly unconcerned with the words that were coming out of his mouth.
"Why, thank you, sweetie," Selene replied, as though he had just paid her a great compliment.
Later that day, when everyone was back aboard the Enterprise for the night, in the same meeting room from before, Spock and Jim were interrupted by an incoming communication.
"Yes, what is it?" Jim asked.
"Message from Starfleet, Captain," Uhura reported. "Priority Channel. Admiral Fitzpatrick speaking."
"Put it on visual, Uhura."
"Captain Kirk?"
"Kirk here."
"Captain, it is not necessary to remind you that of the importance of Sherman's Planet to the Federation. A key to our winning of the planet is the grain quadrotriticale. The shipment of it must be protected. Effective immediately, you will render any aid and assistance which Undersecretary Barrett may require. The safety of the grain and the project is your responsibility. Starfleet out."
"Now that's just lovely," Kirk spat. "We saved the Earth. We shouldn't have to do this! It's insane!"
"But not totally unexpected," Spock reminded him before being cut off by another incoming communication.
"Captain Kirk?" Nyota inquired. Her voice sounded more urgent this time.
"Yes, Uhura. What is it?"
"Sensors are picking up a Klingon battle cruiser," she reported. "Rapidly closing in on the station."
"Go to Red Alert. Notify Mr. Lurry. We'll be right there."
"What is the position of the Klingon ship?" Kirk asked, slipping into the command chair.
"A hundred kilometers off K7," Hikaru answered. "It's just sitting there."
"Captain, I have Mr. Lurry," Uhura reported.
"Put him on visual." She did so. "Mr. Lurry, there's a Klingon warship hanging one hundred kilometers off of your station."
"I don't think the Klingons are planning to attack us," Mr. Lurry responded.
"Why not?" Selene asked.
"Because at this moment, the captain of the Klingon ship is sitting right here in my office." The visual panned out, revealing that Lurry was telling the truth. The Klingon captain had another officer with him as well.
"Cancel Red Alert," Kirk ordered. "We'll beam right down." With an intentionally audible sigh, Selene followed Jim and Spock into the lift. 
Captain's Log. Stardate: 4525.2. A Klingon warship is hovering only one hundred kilometers from Deep Space Station K7. While the captain waits in the station manager's office, their intentions are unknown.
"Ah, my dear Captain Kirk," the Klingon captain greeted.
"My dear Captain Kolaf," Kirk replied.
"Let me assure, you my intentions are peaceful," Kolaf assured him. "As I've already told Mr. Lurry, the purpose of my presence here is to invoke shore leave rights."
"Shore leave?" Jim asked.
"Captain, we Klingons are not as luxury-minded as you Terrans. We do not equip our ships with, how shall I say it, non-essentials," Kolaf explained.
"We have been in space for five months. What we choose as recreation is our own business," the other Klingon added.
"I might also add that under the terms of the Organian peace treaty, you cannot refuse us," Kolaf declared.
"Yes," Kirk said. "Well, I don't make those decisions. Mr. Lurry is in charge of those matters."
"Captain Kirk, may I speak to you over here?" Lurry asked, escorting Jim to a far corner of the room. "Kirk, I don't want them here, but I don't have the authority to refuse."
"Hmm," Jim pondered. "Well, I have the authority to act, so I'm going to use it." He and Lurry returned to the others. "My dear Captain Kolaf, you may indeed bring your men down on shore leave. But, only twelve at a time, and I assure you that for every man you bring down here, I shall have one security guard. There shall be no trouble."
Kolaf smiled and laughed. "Captain Kirk, there's been no formal declaration of hostilities between our two respective governments. So, naturally, our relationship will be a peaceful one."
"Let us both take steps to keep it that way," Jim replied.
"Of course," Kolaf responded, leading he and his officer out.
The three senior-most officers walked into a rec room and discovered Scotty sitting at the computer.
"Another technical journal, Scotty?" Selene asked with a smile. Now it almost felt like a normal day.
"Aye," he replied, just as happily.
"Don't you ever relax?" Jim teased.
"I am relaxing," Scotty responded.
Uhura was at the table surrounded by other crewman and several Tribbles.
"How long have you had that thing, Uhura?" Bones asked.
"Since yesterday, Bones," she answered. "I bought one as a present for Awena. This morning I found out that he, I mean, she had had babies."
"Well, I'd say in that case, you got a bargain."
"You running a nursery, Uhura?" Jim asked. "I thought it was Mrs. Sulu's job to be surrounded by babies."
"Shut up, Jim," Mrs. Sulu replied, elbowing her captain none-too-gently in the ribs.
"Well, I hadn't intended to, sir. But, the Tribble had other plans."
"Did you get this at the space station?" Jim asked.
"Yes, sir," she replied.
"A most curious creature," Spock observed, gently stroking the white one he picked up. He had not encountering Awena's or any other Tribble before now. "It's trilling seems to have a tranquilizing effect on the human nervous system. Fortunately, of course, I am immune to its effect."
Selene and Uhura exchanged knowing grins as they heard Spock's blatant lie. However, Selene had to follow Jim and Spock out, so she gave her farewells.
"Uhura, do you mind if I take one of these down to the lab and see what makes it tick?" McCoy asked.
"Alright, Doctor, but if you're going to dissect it, I don't want to know about it."
"I wouldn't harm a hair on its head," Bones promised. "Wherever that is."
"Bridge to Captain Kirk," Chekov commed as the three of them were on their way through the ship's corridors.
He pressed a button on a wall comm unit. "Kirk here."
"Mr. Barrett is waiting on Channel A to speak with you, sir."
"Pipe it down here, will you, Mr. Chekov?" Kirk requested, looking very sullen.
"Aye, sir. Mr. Barrett is coming on."
"Yes, Mr. Barrett. What can I do for you?"
"Kirk, this station is swarming with Klingons."
"I was not aware, Mr. Barrett, that twelve Klingons constitutes a swarm."
"Kirk, there are Klingon soldiers on this station. Now, I want you to keep that grain safe."
"Mr. Barrett, I have guards around the grain. I have guards around the Klingons. The only reason those guards are there is because Starfleet wants them there. As for what you want…" he trailed off, being aware of the 'shut-up-while-you-can' look Spock was giving him. "It has been noted and logged. Kirk out."
"Captain, may I ask where you'll be?" Spock inquired.
"Sickbay. With a headache."
"C'mon, Spock. Let's go back and see Uhura and the Tribbles," Selene suggested.
"Hi, Jim," McCoy said, enclosing a bunch of Tribbles under a glass container.
"Bones, what do you got for a headache?"
"Let me guess," he said with a snap of his fingers. "The Klingons? Barrett?"
"Both. Hey, how many of these did Uhura give you?"
"Just one."
"But you have eleven."
"Oh, you noticed? Here," he said, handing Jim some medicine. "This ought to take care of it."
"How do they…?"
"I, uh, haven't figured that out yet. But, I can tell you this much. Almost 50% of the creature's metabolism is devoted to reproduction. Do you know what you get if you feed a Tribble too much?"
"A fat Tribble?"
"No, you moron. You get a whole bunch of hungry little Tribbles."
"Well, Bones, all I can suggest is that you open up a maternity ward. Uhura's going to be needing one soon, and knowing Selene, soon enough, she will be too."
"Honey?"
"Yeah?" Hikaru replied.
"I don't know why, but I feel like kicking Jim's ass. Make a note of it so I don't forget."
"Whatever you say, Dear."
"I want all you men going on shore leave to stay in groups," Jim instructed a large group, including Scotty and Chekov. "Avoid trouble with the Klingons."
"I'll tell them before they go, sir," Scotty replied.
"Aren't you going?" Jim asked, confused.
"No, sir."
"I want you to go on shore leave. Make sure that everyone stays out of trouble."
"But, Captain…Aye, sir…" 
Scotty and Chekov ambled into the same bar that he had visited yesterday with Uhura and the kids. But, it wasn't long after he and Scotty were seated that the same salesman from the other day returned as well.
He approached their table. "Ah, friends," he began, reaching into his pocket. "Can I offer you a charming little Tribble?" he asked, placing one on Scotty's shoulder.
"Uh, no thanks," Scotty replied, clearly uncomfortable.
"Perhaps one of you other gentlemen," the salesman said, clearly unconcerned, as he offered the Tribble to Chekov and the other crewman they were there with, but they shrugged him off too. So, he went to the next table, where the Klingons were sitting. "Friend Klingon, can interest you in a harmless little Tribble?"
"Get it away from me," the Klingon replied, looking just as displeased as the Tribble sounded.
"I'm sorry. I can't understand it. I've never seen them act this way before," the salesman apologized.
"Get out of here with that parasite," the Klingon demanded.
"He's only a harmless little-"
"Take it away!"
Shrugging off the encounter, he returned to the bartender. "Ah, my good friend. How would you like to enter another little transaction? This time, a Tribble-"
"A Tribble?" he asked, pulling out at least a dozen from underneath his bar.
Meanwhile, a waitress had arrived at Scotty and Chekov's table with their drinks.
"When are you gonna get off that milk diet, lad?" Scotty asked Chekov.
"This is wodka," Chekov replied, confused.
"Where I come from, that's soda pop," Scotty retorted. He held his drink up for Chekov to see. "Now, this is a drink for a man."
Chekov looked amused. "Scotch?"
"Aye."
"It vas inwented by a little old lady from Leningrad," Chekov scoffed. He and Scotty shared a chuckle over their funny little discussion.
A Klingon at the bar smacked a Tribble away from him. "The Terrans like those fuzzy little things, don't they?" he asked.
"Oh, yes," the salesman replied.
"Well, frankly I never liked Terrans. They remind me of Regulan Bloodworms."
Scotty and Chekov were definitely not happy with what the Klingon had to say. "That Cossack," Chekov mumbled angrily.
"Easy, lad," Scotty responded. "You ought to be more forgiving."
"Oh, I just remembered," the Klingon declared. "There is one Earth man who doesn't remind me of a Regulan Bloodworm. That would be Kirk. A Regulan Bloodworm is soft and shapeless. But, Kirk isn't soft. Kirk may be a swaggering, ignorant, tin-plated playboy with delusions of godhood, but he's not soft."
Chekov slammed his drink on the table and stood to teach the Klingon a thing or two about saying negative things about his friends, but Scotty stopped him. "Easy lad. Everybody's entitled to an opinion." Reluctantly, Chekov sat back down.
"That's right," the Klingon said, approaching their table. "And if I think that Kirk is a Denebian Slime Devil, well that's my opinion too."
Chekov tried to stand, but again, Scotty stopped him. "Don't do it, Chekov, and that's an order."
"But, you heard vat he called the captain," Chekov replied.
"Forget it," Scotty urged. "It's not worth fighting for. We're big enough to take a few insults. Now, drink your drink," he commanded, sliding Chekov a glass of Scotch.
The Klingon went on. "Of course, I'd say that Captain Kirk deserves his ship. We like the Enterprise. We really do," he laughed. "That sagging, old rust bucket is designed like a garbage barge. Half the quadrant knows it."
"Mr. Scott, are you going to-"
"Laddy," Scotty said to the Klingon. "Don't you think you should rephrase that?"
"You're right," the Klingon allowed. "I should. I didn't mean to say that the Enterprise should be hauling garbage. I meant to say that it should be hauled away as garbage."
Slowly and calmly, Scotty stood. The Klingon was too busy laughing to notice. So, naturally, it came as quite the surprise to him when Scotty sucker-punched him. Soon, it was four Klingons versus the three crewmen of the Enterprise. For a few minutes, the crewmen managed to hold their own. But, it was still a welcome relief when four security officers came running into the bar. 
Captain's Log. Stardate: 4525.6. A small disturbance between the Klingon crew and members of the Enterprise crew has broken out aboard Space Station K7. I am forced to cancel shore leave for both ships.
"I want to know who started it," Selene asked, giving the guilty crewmembers her best glare as she paced up and down the line. "I'm waiting, boys. Don't make me ask again. Freyman, who started the fight?" she asked, stopping in front of him.
"I don't know, ma'am," he responded, staring straight ahead.
"Alright," she said, not believing him for a minute. "Pavel, I know you. You started it, didn't you?"
"No, ma'am, I didn't," he replied. Mother's intuition said he was telling the truth.
"Then who did?"
"I don't know, ma'am." Okay, now he was lying.
"'I don't know, ma'am,'" she repeated derisively. "I want to know who threw the first punch." No one answered. "Fine, you're all confined to quarters until I find out who it who started it. And I cannot believe I just had to ground you all. I've never been more ashamed of any of you. The captain is going to be debriefing you next. So, seriously consider telling me what happened, because Jim can do a lot worse to you than just confinement. Dismissed." The crewmen began filing out of the room. "Scotty, not you. From what I hear, you were supposed to prevent trouble."
"Aye, ma'am."
"Who threw the first punch, Scotty?"
"Um…"
"Scotty?"
"I did, ma'am," he confessed, looking properly ashamed.
"You did, Mr. Scott?" Selene asked, stunned. That certainly hadn't been the answer she was expecting. He nodded. "What happened, Scotty?"
"They insulted us, ma'am."
"Must have been some insult," she observed.
"Aye, it was."
"You threw the first punch," she repeated. She still couldn't believe it.
"Aye," he confirmed. "Chekov wanted to, but I held him back."
"You held…Why did Chekov want to start a fight?" she asked. It boggled her mind to think of sweet and innocent Chekov wanting to fight someone.
"Well, the Klingons, they…" he paused. "Is this off the record?"
"No, this is not off the record!"
"Well, ma'am, the Klingons called the Captain a tin-plated, ignorant, swaggering playboy with delusions of godhood."
"Is that all?" She called Jim much worse than that at least once a day.
"No, ma'am. They also compared him to a Denebian Slime Devil."
"I see," she replied, trying not to laugh.
"And then they said that he-"
"I get the picture," she interrupted. If Scotty went on much longer, she was definitely going to lose it, and that wouldn't be very professional.
"Yes, ma'am."
"And after they said all this, that was when you hit the Klingons?"
"No, ma'am."
"No?"
"No, I didn't. The captain told us to avoid trouble. And I didn't see that it was worth fighting about. After all, we're big enough to take a few insults. Aren't we?"
"What was it they said that started the fight?" she asked, more confused than amused.
"They called the Enterprise a garbage barge!"
"I see," she said, trying not to laugh again. "And that's when you hit the Klingons?"
"Yes, ma'am," he answered proudly.
"You hit the Klingons because they insulted the Enterprise, not because they-" She couldn't wait to see the look on Jim's face when she told him that Scotty had been able to shrug off all the insults about him, but had lost it when they insulted the ship.
"Well, ma'am, this was a matter of pride."
"Alright, Scotty. Dismissed. Oh, and Scotty, you're restricted to quarters until further notice. Sorry."
"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, ma'am. That'll give me a chance to keep up on my technical journals," he said brightly before he left the room.
The glass case Doctor McCoy had used to contain his Tribbles had overflowed and there were Tribbles all over the desk. Spock and Selene were there to do their own research on the mysterious little balls of fluff.
"What's the matter, Spock?" Bones asked.
"There's something disquieting about these creatures."
"Oh? Don't tell me you've got a feeling?"
"Don't be insulting, Bones," Selene warned teasingly, as she assisted Spock with some of the over-abundant Tribbles.
Spock continued as though neither of them had said anything. "They remind me of the lilies of the field. 'They toil not. Neither do they spin.' They seem to eat a great deal. I see no practical use for them."
"Does everything have to have a practical use?" Bones asked. "They're nice, they're soft, they're furry, and they make a pleasant sound."
"So does an Urman violin, Doctor, but I see no advantage in having one," Spock replied.
"It's a human characteristic to love little animals," Bones explained. "Especially if they are attractive in some way."
"Doctor, I am well aware of human characteristics, being married to one and being the father of a mostly-human child. As such, I have trained myself to put up with practically anything."
"Spock, I don't know too much about these little Tribbles yet, but there is one thing that I have discovered," Bones stated angrily.
"What's that, Bones?" Selene asked disinterestedly. The arguments between the two men tended to lose their novelty pretty quickly.
"I like them better than I like Spock."
Selene snickered. She hadn't been expecting that.
"Doctor, they do indeed have one redeeming characteristic."
"What's that?"
"They do not talk too much," Spock answered. Selene's snickering became full-on laughter. "If you will excuse us, sir," he said, leading the way out of the sickbay.
There were Tribbles all over the bridge. Jim sat down in his chair and was surprised to hear it squeak. He rose to discover that there was one in his chair. He sighed angrily as he commed Medical."Doctor McCoy, would you mind coming up to the bridge?"
"Right away, Jim."
Kirk rose from his chair and began pacing the bridge. He walked past Selene, and then Spock, until he reached Nyota. "Commander Uhura, how did all of these Tribbles get on the bridge?"
"I don't know, sir," she replied. "They do seem to be all over the ship."
"Bones!" Jim said, as Doctor McCoy entered the bridge.
"You wanted to see, Jim?" Jim held out a handful of Tribbles to him. "Well, don't look at me. It's the Tribbles who are breeding. If we don't get them of the ship, we're going to be hip-deep in them."
"What's going on?" Kirk asked.
"Well, near as I can tell, they're born pregnant. Which seems to be quite a time saver," he joked.
"I know, but, really…"
"And, from my observations, it seems they're hermaphroditic, reproducing at will. And, brother, they've got a lot of will," Bones commented.
"Captain, I am forced to agree with the Doctor," Spock said. "Mrs. Sulu and I have been running calculations based on their rate of reproduction, and the figures are taking an alarming direction. They are consuming our supplies and returning nothing."
"Oh, but they do give us something, Spock," Nyota argued. "They give us love. Your daughter seems to love them anyway."
"Too much of anything, Uhura, even love, isn't necessarily a good thing," Jim retorted, tossing the Tribbles he was holding at her.
"Yes, Captain," she said, rolling her eyes.
"Get some of the crew. We need to clean up the entire ship, and then contact Mr. Lurry and tell him that we're beaming down," Jim ordered.
"Aye, sir."
"Have him find the man who sold you the first Tribble, and hold him!" Before he, Bones, Spock, and Selene left the bridge, he added, "And get these Tribbles off the bridge."
"Captain Kirk, I'm mystified at your tone of voice. I've done nothing to warrant such severe treatment," the salesman, Cyrano Jones, declared.
"Oh, really?" Jim replied.
"Surely you must have realized what would happen if you removed the Tribbles from their predator filled environment to an environment where their natural reproductive proclivities have no restraining factor," Spock stated.
"What did you say?" Cyrano asked.
"By removing the Tribbles from their natural habitat, you've opened a can of worms," Selene translated.
"By that, you mean they breed quickly," Cyrano chuckled good-naturedly. "Of course. That's how I maintain my stock. But, breeding animals isn't against regulations, only breeding dangerous ones. And Tribbles aren't dangerous."
"Just incredibly prolific," Selene said, rolling her eyes.
"Precisely, lovely lady. And at six credits a head, well, that is, a body, it mounts up. Now, if you'll excuse me," he said, rising from the chair.
"You should sell and instruction and maintenance manual for these things," Jim suggested.
"If I did, what would happen to man's search for knowledge," Cyrano replied. "Well, I must be tending my ship."
As Cyrano made his way out, he passed Mr. Barrett and Mr. Arnold, neither of whom looked too happy. "Go ahead, sir. Tell them," Mr. Arnold said sycophantly.
"Captain Kirk, I consider your security measures a disgrace," Mr. Barrett said angrily. "in my opinion, you have taken this very important project far too lightly."
"On the contrary, sir," Jim replied. "I think of this project as very important. It is you I take lightly."
"I am going to report fully to the proper authorities that you have given free and complete access to this station to a man who is quite probably a Klingon agent," Mr. Barrett continued.
"Now, that's a very serious charge," Selene responded. "To whom are you referring?"
"To that man who just walked out of here," Barrett answered, pointing at the door.
"Cyrano Jones?" Kirk asked incredulously. "A Klingon agent?"
"You heard me," Barrett maintained.
"I heard you," Jim confirmed.
"I simply cannot believe it either," Spock stated, since Jim and Selene were far too amused by Barrett's accusation. They turned to him, a bit surprised that he actually had an opinion on the matter, which they assumed to be beneath him.
"What evidence do you have against Mr. Jones?" Kirk asked.
"My assistant here has kept Mr. Jones under close surveillance for quite some time," Mr. Barrett stated. "And his actions have been most suspicious. I believe he was involved in that little altercation between your men and the men from his ship-"
"Yes, yes, yes," Jim interrupted, wanting Barrett to get to the point. "Go on. What else do you have?"
"Well, Captain, I checked the ship's log and it seems he was within the Klingon sphere of influence four months ago," Arnold said.
"The man is an independent scout, Captain. It's quite possible that he is also a Klingon spy," Barrett argued.
Jim nodded toward Selene, who proceeded to relay all of the information they had gathered on Mr. Jones. "We have already checked the background of Mr. Cyrano Jones. He is a liscenced asteroid locator and prospector. He's never broken the law. At least, not severely. And for the past seven years, with his one man spaceship, he has attained a marginal living by maintaining and selling rare merchandise, including, unfortunately, Tribbles."
"But he is after my grain!" Barrett shouted.
"Do you have any proof of that?" Spock inquired.
"You can't deny that he has disrupted this station," Arnold argued.
"People have disrupted stations before without being Klingon agents," Jim replied. "Sometimes, all they need is a title, Mr. Barrett. Unfortunately, disrupting a space station is not an offense. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a ship to attend to. Sayonara."
Aboard the ship, there were even more Tribbles than there were before. They were even all over the mess hall. The three senior officers noted this as they replicated themselves a meal. Selene was not pleased to discover half a dozen Tribbles on her plate. "My chicken sandwich and earl grey tea," she murmured, saddened that her meal had been ruined.
"I want these things off the ship," Jim ordered. "I don't care if it takes every man, woman and child we've got, I want them off the ship."
Scotty walked into the mess hall, his arms full of troubles. "Aye, they're into the machinery alright," he admitted. "And they're probably in all of the other food replicators too."
"How?" Jim asked.
"Probably through one of the air vents."
"Captain, there are vents of that type on the space station," Spock announced.
"And in the storage compartments," Selene realized, horrified.
They made their way over to a nearby computer and commed the station. "This is Kirk. Contact Manager Lurry and Mr. Barrett. Have them meet us near the storage compartments. We're beaming down." He terminated the comm. "Come on, you two."
There were even Tribbles all over the transporter pad. "Energize," Kirk sighed. Why did he even bother anymore?
"What's wrong?" Mr. Lurry asked.
"Plenty, if what I think has happened happened," Kirk said, leading the way to the storage compartment.
"Guard, is that door secure?" Kirk asked.
"Yes, sir," the guard confirmed. "Nothing could get in."
"Good. Open it," Jim ordered.
"It's not working, sir. It seems to be stuck," the guard confessed.
"Here, let me try," Jim offered. But, he couldn't get it to open either. So, he decided to open one of the overheads and was showered with Tribbles of all sizes.
Kirk popped his head out from underneath a mountain of Tribbles. He threw one to Spock.
"They seem to be gorged," Spock observed.
"Gorged?" Barrett howled in outrage. "On my grain? Kirk, I am going to hold you responsible. There must be thousands of them."
"Hundreds of thousands," Selene guessed.
"One million, seven hundred seventy-one thousand, five hundred sixty one," Spock corrected. "That's assuming one Tribble multiplying with an average litter of ten producing a new generation every twelve hours over a period of three days."
"And, that's assuming they got here three days ago," Selene added cheerfully.
"And allowing for the amount of grain consumed and the volume of the storage compartment," Spock concluded.
"Kirk, you should have known," Barrett accused. "You are responsible for turning the development of the project into a total disaster."
"Mr. Barrett-"
"And I am through being intimidated, Kirk! You have insulted me, you have ignored me, you have walked all over me, you have abused your authority and you have rejected my requests. And, this," Barrett said, pointing to the Tribbles. "This is the result!
"Now, Mr.-"
"I am going to hold you responsible for this! I-"
"Mr. Barrett, I'll hold you in irons if you don't shut up," Jim stated.
"Jim," Bones said happily, coming over to the assembled group. "I think I've got it! All we've got to do is quit feeding them. Quit feeding them, they stop breeding."
" Now he tells me," Jim sighed.
"Jim, this Tribble is dead," Selene announced sadly as she held it up for him to see.
"And so are these," Spock added, gesturing to numerous others.
Bones scanned the pile. "A lot of them are dead," he determined. "A lot of them are alive that won't be for long."
"The logical assumption is that there is something in the grain," Spock decided.
"Yes," Jim agreed. "Bones, I want the Tribbles, the grain, everything, analyzed. I want to know what killed these Tribbles."
"I haven't figured out what keeps them alive yet," Bones replied. "Alright, if I find out anything, I'll let you know," he acquiesced, taking his leave.
"That isn't going to do you any good, Kirk," Barrett insisted. "This project is ruined. And Starfleet is gonna hear about it. And, when they do, they will have a board of inquiry and they will roast you alive. And I am going to be there, Kirk, to enjoy every minute of it."
"Until that board of inquiry, he's still the captain," Selene retorted angrily. God, the twins were more mature than this guy.
"And, as captain, there are two things I want done," Kirk interjected. "First, find Cyrano Jones, and second, close that door," he demanded, gesturing to the open hatch which was still dumping Tribbles onto his head.
"Really, Captain Kirk, I must protest this treatment," Jones said as two security officers rather forcefully escorted him into Lurry's office.
"Mr. Jones, what an armful," Jim observed, noting the amount of Tribbles Cyrano was holding.
"We have a few questions," Selene notified the man.
"Captain Kirk!" Jones said angrily.
The Klingon captain and his first officer barged into the room. "What do you want?" Jim asked.
"An official apology addressed to Klingon High Command," Kolaf replied. "I expect you to assume full responsibility for the persecution of Klingon nationals in this quadrant."
"An apology?" Kirk repeated.
"Yes. You've harassed my men and you've treated them like criminals. You've been most uncourteous, Captain Kirk. Now, if you wish to avoid a diplomatic incident-"
"No, Kirk. You can't!" Barrett insisted. "That will give them the wedge they need to claim Sherman's Planet."
"I believe that more than the word of an aggrieved Klingon commander will be necessary for that, Mr. Barrett," Spock assured him.
"Mr. Spock," the Klingon captain said, turning his attention to him. "As far as Sherman's Planet is concerned, Captain Kirk has already given it to us."
"Well, we'll see about that," Kirk replied. "But, before I take any official action, I'd like to know just what happened. Who put the Tribbles in the quadrotriticale? What was in the grain that killed them?"
"Captain Kirk," Kolaf replied. "Before you go on, may I make a request?"
"Yes."
"Can you get those things out of here?" he asked, gesturing to the Tribbles in Cyrano's arms. Kirk nodded, and two of the security officers removed them. They were heading out the door with them when Mr. Arnold came in. The Tribbles went crazy.
"Remarkable," Spock stated.
"Hold on a minute," Kirk ordered. "I thought you said Tribbles liked everybody?" he asked Jones.
"Well, they do. I can't understand it. The last time I saw one act like that was at the bar."
"What was in the bar?" Jim inquired.
"Klingons," he answered.
The three superior officers exchanged glances with each other. Jim wandered over to the security officers and took a Tribble from them. He held them toward the Klingons. They went berserk. "Why, you're right, Mr. Jones," Kirk allowed. "They don't like Klingons." Bones entered the room and joined the other officers. Kirk held the Tribbles toward Spock. "But, they do like Vulcans. Why, Spock, I didn't know you had it in you."
"Obviously, Tribbles are very perceptive creatures," Spock declared.
'Obviously," Selene repeated with a teasing edge.
"Mr. Barrett, they like you," Jim continued, roaming the office. "Well, there's no accounting for taste." He returned to Mr. Arnold and held the Tribbles out to him. "They don't like you. I wonder why. Bones?"
McCoy came forward with his medical scanner and scanned the man. "Heartbeat is all wrong. His body temperature is…Jim, this man is a Klingon."
"Klingon?" Barrett asked, unable to believe what he was hearing.
"I wonder what Starfleet Command will say about that," Selene said mockingly.
"What about the grain, Bones?" Jim inquired.
"Oh, yes. It was poisoned. It's been impregnated with a virus. The virus turns into an inert material in the bloodstream. The more an organism eats, the more material builds up. So, after two or three days, it would reach a point where it couldn't take in enough nourishment to survive."
"So, they starved to death in a storage compartment full of grain. They starved to death," Jim repeated.
"That is essentially it," Bones agreed.
"Mr. Arnold, do you want to talk?" Jim asked.
"I have nothing to say," he replied. Jim held the Tribbles toward him again. "Alright! I poisoned the grain. Take them away."
"So, the Tribbles had nothing to do with it?" Kirk inquired.
"No. I never saw one before in my life and I hope I never see one of those fuzzy miserable things again," Arnold declared.
"I'm certain that can be arranged, Arnold," Mr. Barrett announced, having Arnold arrested. "If you'll excuse me, Captain."
"Captain Kolaf, about that apology…"
"Yes?"
"You have six hours to get your ship out of Federation Territory." Kolaf nodded and left. "You know, I think I could learn to like Tribbles," Jim told his officers.
"Well, Captain, I suppose I'm free to go now," Jones said jovialy, attempting to escape.
"No, you're not," Selene said, grabbing him by the wrist. He yanked himself free, only to be held by Spock. "There's something we want to show you," she said as they lead him into the bar, which was full of Tribbles. "Do you know what the penalty is for transporting an animal proven harmful to human life?"
"Commander, one little Tribble isn't harmful," he argued. Selene looked stern. "Captain, you wouldn't let them do a thing like that to me, would you?"
Jim was silent, but Spock spoke. "The penalty is twenty years in a rehabilitation colony."
"Captain Kirk, my friend," Jones said, his tone increasingly desperate. "Surely we can come to some form of mutual understanding. After all, my Tribbles did put you wise to the poison grain. And they did help you find the Klingon agent. We saved a lot of lives that way."
"There is one thing you could do," Jim said.
Jones leapt at the opportunity. "Yes?"
"Pick up every Tribble on the Space Station. If you do that, I'll speak to Mr. Lurry about returning your ship," Kirk decided.
"It would take years," Jones protested.
"17.9 to be exact," Spock clarified. This entire situation had been very disagreeable to him. Awena had been required to forfeit her pet, and as any parent can tell you: when your child is displeased, they will make sure you are displeased as well.
"17.9 years?"
"Consider it job security," Selene shrugged.
"Captain, you're a hard man." Selene and Spock moved to take him away. "Alright!"
"You'll do it?" Jim asked.
"I'll do it," he said reluctantly.
"Captain, Starfleet was able to divert that freighter," Spock announced. The bridge of the Enterprise was clean and clear once more.
"Good," Jim replied. "That means Sherman's Planet will get it's quadrotriticale only a few weeks late. I don't see any Tribbles around here," he observed, checking his chair before sitting down.
"And you won't find a Tribble on this entire ship," McCoy informed him.
"Bones, how'd you do that?"
"Well, I cannot take credit for another man's work," Bones confessed. "Scotty did it."
"Scotty, where are the Tribbles?" Jim asked.
"Oh, Captain, it was really Mr. Spock's recommendation," Scotty demurred.
"Of course. Spock?"
"Based on computer analysis, of course, taking into account the possibilities of-"
"Gentlemen, I don't want to interrupt this meeting of the Mutual Admiration Society, but, I'd like to know where the Tribbles are," Jim said.
"Oh, just tell him, Spock," Selene urged. "It was a brilliant idea."
"Well, it was Mr. Scott who performed the actual engineering," Spock explained.
"Mr. Scott," Kirk said. "Where are the Tribbles?"
"I used the transporter," he admitted.
"The transporter?"
"Aye."
"Well, where did you transport them?" Scotty hesitated, giving Jim time to look at all of his bridge officers, none of whom wanted to look him in the eye, even Spock. "Scott, you didn't transport them into space, did you?"
"Captain Kirk, that'd be inhuman," Scott replied, shocked that Jim would even suggest such a thing.
"Then, where are they?"
"I gave them a very good home , sir," Scotty assured him.
"Where?" Jim asked, having lost his patience.
"I gave them to the Klingons, sir," Scotty informed him.
"You gave them to the Klingons?" Kirk asked with quiet disbelief.
"Aye, sir. Before they went into warp, I transported the whole kit and caboodle into their engine room. There'll be no tribble at all." 
Category:Fan Fiction