Cadet’s
personal log, stardate 42752.3:
Finally
its over. I can’t believe how one little
ball of fur can cause so much trouble.
It nearly got
Cadet 3rd
Class
Crossing
the Quad, she almost literally bumped into her friend, Cadet 2nd Class Larry
Harcue, who was leaving one of the classroom buildings. He fell into step beside her.
“What’s
troubling you,
“Late,”
was all she mumbled before she glanced at her chrono and stepped up her pace.
“Meet you
for lunch,” he called after her as he stopped to catch his breath. “Main caf at noon.”
He could
not tell if she responded before she flung herself through a door at one of the
farther buildings.
Space, the Final Frontier...
Star Trek: Starfleet Academy
“What’s Tribbling You?” By PJK
“Lieutenant
McGregor’s class is just too hard,” complained Tredworth as she sat at one of
the cafeteria tables next to Cadet Harcue.
“I’m no engineer, and I have no desire to be one. The main trouble is, if I miss a class, I’ll
be totally lost for the rest of the semester.”
She took a
bite of her sandwich. While she chewed,
Tredworth’s voice sounded in Harcue’s head, ‘And I’ll be up shit’s creek with
McGregor if he sees me skip out.’
Harcue glanced
at her with a mildly annoyed expression on his face.
“If you’re
going to continue to do that, at least teach me how,” he commented. “Its very convenient if you want to talk and
eat at the same time.”
“I’m
sorry,” Tredworth squeaked. “Anyway, I’ve
got to get my alarm chrono fixed soon, or the same thing will happen again
tomorrow.”
“Let me
take a look at it. Maybe I can fix it,”
Harcue said.
When the
two finished their lunch, they both went back to Tredworth’s dorm room. As they entered, Tredworth’s roommate, T’Cah,
a Vulcan freshman cadet, looked up and greeted them.
Harcue
went over to the alarm and started disassembling it with some tools he had
brought. Meanwhile, T’Cah stood and
walked over next to Tredworth.
“Cadet
Tredworth,” she said. “I would like to
inquire, what is the logic in keeping an empty aquarium in our room?”
Tredworth
blinked, then asked, “What do you mean?”
T’Cah
nodded toward the tank on Tredworth’s desk.
“The place
where you kept your pet. It has been empty
since I returned from class. I reasoned
that you had moved it to another container, and was curious as to the purpose
of keeping the empty tank here,” T’Cah explained.
Tredworth
walked over to the tank and saw the screen top was laying next to the tank, as
if it had fallen. Aside from some gerbil
litter and a small bowl of water, the tank was empty.
“
Harcue
came over and, looking at the now-empty tank, patted Tredworth on the shoulder.
“Don’t
worry,
The three
cadets then started moving books and boxes around the room, looking for the
lost pet.
* * * *
After hours
of fruitless searching, the trio gave up their quest for the moment.
“I
wouldn’t worry if I were you,
“But
they’re so rare!” Tredworth whined. “Not
many managed to survive the ‘Great Klingon Tribble Hunt’. Ohh, its my own fault. I patted
A knock
sounded at the door, and T’Cah answered it.
Another second year cadet entered the room, his hands behind his back.
“Tredworth,
does this belong to you?” asked the cadet as he offered the item in his hand to
Tredworth. Her eyes brightened
immediately as she recognized the gold-brown ball of fluff in her fellow
cadet’s outstretched arms.
“
“She was
found at the other end of the floor,” explained the cadet. “Since you’re the only cadet in this dorm,
and maybe the whole Academy, who owns a tribble, I figured it had to be yours.”
Tredworth
gave the other cadet a quick hug of thanks, then took the ball of fur, now
cooing gently, and returned her to the tank, making sure this time the cover
was latched.
* * * *
A cadet
entered one of the small dorm kitchens, set aside for those who preferred to
cook their own meals rather than replicate everything, and opened one of the
cabinets for some flour. She withdrew
the container and placed it on the counter, consulting her recipe card, when a
noise attracted her attention. Looking
into the cabinet where the flour container had been, she spotted a piece of
fur, resembling an antique wig, that scurried through a hole in the rear of the
cabinet.
* * * *
In a dorm
room, a cadet studying for his upcoming exams, reached out to an empty spot on
his desk. His hand fumbled around left
and right for a moment until he finally looked up.
“I could
have sworn I took out an oatmeal bar before I sat down,” he said.
* * * *
Two alien
cadets were walking together down a hallway, when suddenly one stopped, turning
her head to listen carefully with one of her blue antenna.
“What is
it?” asked the other cadet, a Centauri boy of eighteen.
“I’m not
sure,” answered the Andorian female. “I
thought I heard a squeak.”
As they
looked around, two round pieces of fur rolled across the floor in front of
them, climbing into an air-conditioning duct.
“Boy,”
said the male cadet, “the
* * * *
As
Tredworth was changing the water bowl in
“Cadet
Tredworth?” another cadet asked.
“No, but
do enter,” the Vulcan said politely.
The cadet
walked into the room and over to Tredworth.
“You own a
tribble, don’t you?” he asked.
“Yes, I
do,” Tredworth answered. “In fact, she’s
right ov...”
The other
cadet interrupted her by thrusting a brown fur-ball into Tredworth’s hands.
“Here, I
found it down the hall, trying to get into the kitchen.” He smiled slightly and walked out of the
room, brushing his hands on the front of his uniform.
“But...
but... but... I already... found... her.......,” Tredworth stammered, not
knowing what to do with the new tribble in her hands.
* * * *
T’Cah was
saying, “If my calculations are correct...”
“And they
always are, right?” interrupted Harcue with a wry smile on his face. T’Cah raised her right eyebrow as she looked
at him, making Harcue cringe, then cleared her throat.
“As I was
saying, according to my calculations, and assuming the animal in question got free
and entered the pantry six hours ago, and assuming an average litter of ten,
common among this life form, than we must assume there are
approximately...” She paused for less
than a second. “One-thousand,
three-hundred, and thirty-one tribbles.”
Tredworth’s
and Harcue’s jaws almost hit the floor.
“Minus, of
course, the two already in your possession,” T’Cah finished.
“Well,
that’s a start,” remarked Harcue sarcastically.
After a
moment considering whether or not to pull her hair out, Tredworth said, “We
have to round them up. We have to get
them out of here.”
“What’s
this ‘we’ stuff, and how did this happen?” asked Harcue. “A neutered tribble isn’t supposed to
reproduce.”
“But
Larry,
“You...
brought... and un-neutered tribble... onto Earth?!?” Harcue said incredulously.
“That
violates the interstellar laws against transporting animals proven harmful to humanoid
life,” T’Cah informed.
“I know
the laws! But... a tribble isn’t
harmful,” said Tredworth, her lower lip quivering.
“ONE tribble isn’t,” said Harcue,
deadpan. “But one-thousand...
three-hundred and... ummm...”
“Thirty-one,”
filled in T’Cah.
“Thanks. One-thousand, three-hundred and thirty-one is
considered very harmful when they’re loose in a non-native habitat. Why do you think the Klingon’s tried to wipe
them all out seventy-five years ago?”
“Oh,
great,” Tredworth moaned.
* * * *
Another
hour later, and with the help of a few other dormmates, quite a number of the
purring, cooing, furry little animals had been collected and stored in whatever
was on hand. In Tredworth’s room, boxes,
bags, replicated tanks, and cages galore were stacked and piled and thrown
haphazardly all over. And at least a
dozen or more times that day, other cadets not in on the “little secret” would
return a tribble to the only cadet they knew of that owned one.
Tredworth
was standing in the hall, supervising the latest load of replicated boxes being
piled in her room. T’Cah stood next to
her.
“By my
latest calculations,” informed T’Cah, “we should have only another
five-hundred, thirty-nine tribbles left to capture. Plus or minus seventy-three, of course.”
“Of
course,” Tredworth said dryly. “You’re
quite amused with all this, aren’t you?”
“On the
contrary,” said T’Cah, “I find this all quite distressing. For example, with all these tribbles piled in
our room, where am I to sleep tonight?”
Before
Tredworth could reply, an Aide of the Academy Superintendent came through the
dormitory door and stood near Tredworth.
The two cadets stood formally at attention.
“Cadet
“Yes, sir!”
answered the now-sweating cadet.
“Please
come with me. Superintendent Brand would
like to speak to you for a moment,” he said.
Harcue had
just exited Tredworth’s room in time to hear the exchange, and he shared a
concerned look with the now-slightly shaking Betazoid as she started to walk
after the lieutenant.
Tredworth
followed the lieutenant across the campus and into the Academy’s Administration
building. They entered the lift and took
it up to the superintendent’s office.
They passed another lieutenant seated at a desk, busily working at the
computer terminal. He nodded at the aide
escorting Tredworth and pressed a button that unlocked the superintendent’s
door. It swooshed open at their
approach.
Tredworth
entered behind the aide, who then walked next to the large, ornate wooden desk
in front of the room’s windows.
Tredworth stood in the room’s center, at rigid attention, physically
forcing her knees not to knock.
“Cadet 3rd
Class
Superintendent
Brand, a human woman of around sixty years of age, looked up from the computer
screen she had been studying.
“Yes,
cadet,” she said, a somewhat pleasant smile appearing on her face. “It has been brought to my attention that you
own a pet tribble that you keep in your dormitory room.”
Tredworth
started saying, ‘Yes, sir, and I can explain.
You see...”
“Regulations
allow small pets in the dorms, cadet.
Relax. It’s just that we did not
think you were aware that your pet had escaped,” the Admiral said, at which
point the Lieutenant that had escorted her presented Tredworth with a small
clear-plasteel box containing a purring tribble.
“Do be
more careful with your pets in the future, cadet,” the lieutenant remarked as
he handed the startled midshipman the box.
“Ye...
yes, sir. I will, sir. Thank you, sir. And thank you too, Admiral,” she said, taking
the box and slowly starting to back her way out the door. But as she neared the door, it slid open and
a junior-grade lieutenant walked into the room, carrying a small box.
“Admiral,
this was just found out in the quad, and someone suggested the enrollment
records may give a clue as to whom it belongs,” he said.
Tredworth was
on the verge of a clean getaway when the admiral’s aide opened the box and
found another tribble. Just then the
Lieutenant from the reception desk entered, also carrying a tribble.
“Admiral,
I just found this eating my lunch under my desk,” he said.
Admiral
Brand looked at Tredworth, her pleasant smile slowly fading, and was about to
say something, when a fur-ball fell out of a vent opening above her desk and
landed in the Admiral’s lap.
“On the
other hand, cadet,” said the Admiral through gritted teeth, “maybe you had better explain.”
* * * *
By order
of the Superintendent, every cadet on campus was involved in the search for the
loose tribbles. A few hours later, and
with the help of tricorders and sensors installed aboard a shuttlecraft
borrowed from Starfleet Command, all the tiny animals had been tracked and
captured. The final total was
5,286. Tredworth once again stood at
attention in the center of Admiral Brand’s office.
“Do you
know what the penalty for transporting an animal proven harmful to humanoid
life is, cadet?” the admiral, standing very close to Tredworth’s face, asked.
“I took
the liberty of looking up that very piece of information, sir,” stammered an
extremely nervous cadet. “Twenty years
in a penal colony. And, of course,
expulsion from the Academy.”
“Yes. It is.
But what I’m going to do to you will seem worse. Another two and a half years here. Every day, after you finish your classes,
I’ll expect you to be cleaning an entire floor of this building. Spotless.
Cleaner than your record will be after this little incident,” ordered
the admiral.
“Yes,
sir!” said Tredworth.
“And what
do you intend to do with your fifty-two hundred little friends?” the Admiral
asked.
“I have no
idea, sir,” replied Tredworth.
“My first
impression is to leave them all in your room.
But that wouldn’t be fair to your roommate,” the admiral said with a
slight grin. “Fortunately, cadet, I’m a
little better prepared than you. I’ve
made arrangements to have the animals neutered, something you should have had
done yourself originally. It would have
saved you, and by you I mean all your fellow cadets, a whole lot of trouble.”
“Yes,
sir. I’m aware of that now, sir,” said
Tredworth. The admiral continued.
“Anyway,
then your little friends will be given away to children who have no pets of
their own. Thanks to you, over
five-thousand little children will be very happy.”
“Thank
you, sir,” said Tredworth, a very, very slight smile crossing her face.
“And, of
course, this will be put on your permanent record.”
“Yes,
sir. Of course, sir,” said Tredworth.
“Dismissed,”
ordered the admiral.
* * * *
A group of
cadets milled around the entrance to the Admin building. As Tredworth exited the door they all
gathered around her.
“Well?”
asked an anxious Harcue. “I see you’re
still in uniform. For the moment, at
least.”
“Well... I
haven’t been expelled,” reported Tredworth.
A small cheer started among the crowd.
This drew the attention of an elderly man who rushed over with an angry
look on his face.
“Don’t
trample the hydrangeas!” yelled Boothby, the Academy’s head groundskeeper as he
rushed to fix the trampled plants.
The whole
group started walking toward the dorms.
“You got
off completely?” Harcue asked Tredworth.
“Not...
exactly. Lets just say, by the time I
graduate, the Admin building will be a whole lot cleaner than it is now.”
After explaining
the entire situation and resolution to her fellow cadets, Harcue escorted
Tredworth back to her dorm room. As they
arrived, T’Cah was waiting in the hall and a number of Academy technicians were
carrying the boxes, bags, and cages outside and loading them onto a
ground-truck.
“Well,”
asked Harcue, “have you learned a lesson from all this?”
“You can
be sure I won’t take an animal anywhere that hasn’t been completely checked
over and made certain its safe for its new environment,” she answered.
“Do you
still intend to keep your pet, Cadet?” asked T’Cah.
“I guess
you think owning a small animal is illogical?” Tredworth asked.
“Indeed,
not,” answered T’Cah, her eyebrows arching upward. “In fact, at my parents home on Vulcan, I
have a sehlat that belonged to my mother before me. I can truly... appreciate the need for a
pet. If you did not want to keep your
tribble, I would... consider... taking it.”
Tredworth
gawked at the Vulcan for a moment, then said, “After what I’ve just been through,
over my dead body!”
T’Cah
raised her right eyebrow, staring at Tredworth, and commented, “What would be
the logic in killing you just to aquire what is now a very easily obtainable
item. There are, after all, over
five-thousand tribbles available.”
“Its a
human figure of speech,” informed Harcue.
“I believe she means she wants to keep her pet.”
“Ahh,”
said T’Cah. “Indeed.”
Tredworth
entered her room, once again containing only a single aquarium tank, again
containing a single tribble. A familiar
gold-brown tribble with a distinctive purr.
“Well,”
said Tredworth as Harcue and T’Cah entered the room behind her, “it looks as if
Confused
looks crossed both Harcue and T’Cah’s faces.
“I see no evidence
of an injury,” said T’Cah. “Why do you
insist it is broken?”
“Because I
have to get her fixed,” said Tredworth with a lopsided grin.
Harcue
also grinned, then commented, “Which should be no tribble at all.”
The End
Return to 2369.
Return to Stories Archive.