[This story takes place when Voyager is in the Delta Quadrant.]
Tribble at the Mill
Searching for a way home, Voyager encounters a strange – and alarming – echo of the Alpha Quadrant.
Compared to the Borg cube, the other ship seemed small, even insignificant.
We are the Borg. Resistance is fut –
A bolt of energy lanced out from the smaller ship, followed by another, and then another.
Voyager approached the wreck of the cube slowly, warily.
"No life signs, of Borg or anything else," said Harry Kim at the sensor console. "Not even any bodies, by the look of it."
"Geez, what a mess," said Tom Paris, as Voyager pulled in closer and the extent of the damage became more apparent.
"What sort of weapon could cut through Borg shields and open up a cube like a tin can?" said Chokotay.
"Residual radiation suggests some form of disruptor beam," said Seven of Nine, from the Science station. "But like nothing we have seen in the Delta quadrant."
"A disruptor beam?" said B'Elanna Torres. "Like, a Klingon weapon?"
"Possibly, but much more advanced."
Captain Janeway entered. She was coughing and sneezing, her eyes puffy and bloodshot.
"Glad to see you are feeling better," said Chokotay. "But it looks like you should still be in bed."
"Not every day you get to see a Borg cube taken apart piece by piece," she rasped.
"Why is it that we have inter-galactic travel and artificial everything but we still can't cure the common cold?" said Harry.
Captain Janeway sneezed again, and gestured at the viewscreen. "Report," she wheezed, and sank into the captain's chair.
"No Borg survivors, no bodies, no technology worth salvaging," said Harry.
"How can there be no bodies?" said Tom. "The Borg are the toughest guys in town. Even when Species 8472 destroyed their ships, there were still bodies."
Neelix came in, carrying a steaming cup, which he handed to the captain.
"This is an old recipe to treat colds, passed down through generations of my family," he said.
"What is it?" said Captain Janeway, taking a sip.
"Chicken soup," said Neelix. He looked at the viewscreen. "Oh my," he said.
"I am detecting a very faint ion trail leading away from the cube," said Seven. "Not Borg, not Species 8472. Something else."
"Tom, put us on a course to follow it," said the Captain.
"Do we really want to do that?" said Neelix. "Anything that can do that to a Borg cube would be more than a match for Voyager."
"True, but it might be a case of the enemy of my enemy being a friend," said Chokotay. "Perhaps we can trade something for their anti-Borg disruptor."
They had been following the trail for several hours when the long-range sensor rang an alarm.
"Whatever we are following has decided to find us," said Harry.
"It is very fast," said Seven, examining her sensors. "Not large, but very powerful."
"What sort of propulsion system?" said Chokotay.
Seven hesitated. "I … I do not know," she said.
"Uh-oh," said Tom.
"This sort of ship," said B'Elanna, studying Seven's sensor screen, "is familiar. I know this signature. But it can't be … "
"Coming in fast," said Harry.
The sensor picture grew more distinct.
"Is that what I think it is?" said Tom.
Then, suddenly, the ship was in front of them, only a few hundred kilometers away. It stopped, as if studying them.
"Yes," said Chokotay. "It is a Klingon Bird of Prey."
"The ship itself is old, but it has been heavily modified, with extremely sophisticated power systems, weapons and shields," said Seven, to the bridge crew assembled in the meeting room. "They also have a form of transwarp drive. Scans have not proved very effective, although from what I can tell there are 11,957 life-forms aboard it, and none of them are Klingon."
"11,957?" said B'Elanna in surprise. "There must be standing room only. Those ships were only built for about 300."
"No response to our hails," said Harry. "They're just sitting and watching. They have scanned us several times, though." He passed around a padd with detailed images of the exterior of the ship.
B'Elanna studied the faded writing on the side. "It is called the Gr'oth," she said. "That sounds … familiar."
"There is nothing in the Starfleet archives about such a ship," said Tuvok. "But, as you know, the Klingons tend to revise their official records to disguise losses or defeats."
The com-link buzzed. "Captain, we are being hailed," said Ensign Ross, from the bridge.
The team returned to the bridge. On the viewscreen was an image of a humanoid creature, about the size of a twelve-year-old child, but covered in fur. Behind the creature were ranks of others.
"I am Captain Janeway of the Starfleet exploration ship Voyager," said the Captain.
"We know," said the creature. "I am Kathlif."
"By what name is your species known?" said Captain Janeway.
"You know us as tribbles," said Kathlif.
Captain Janeway gasped in surprise. "Did you say … tribbles?" she said.
"Yes, originally from the planet you know as Iota Geninorum IV, in the Alpha Quadrant. But now this ship is our home. It has been the home of many generations of tribbles."
"Our historical information is that tribbles were … not humanoid," said Captain Janeway. "And not generally found on such a ship as you have."
"According to our legends, we were sent to this High-Head ship by the Great Engineer Scotty. The High-Heads left the ship, and since that time, we have changed it as we have changed."
"Your ship has very impressive technology," said Captain Janeway. "Would you be interested in a trade arrangement?"
"Yes," said Kathlif. "We will give you knowledge of our transwarp drive, if you give us the metal-man and the High-Head."
"I don't understand," said Captain Janeway.
Kathlif pointed, first at Seven of Nine and then at B'Elanna. "Those two," he said.
"But … why?" said Captain Janeway.
"To eat them," said Kathlif. "We are hungry. You have one hour."
Captain Janeway sneezed again. She looked around the meeting table.
"So these are hyper-evolved members of the tribble species?" she said.
"It seems a reasonable assumption," said Tuvok. "Starfleet records refer to an encounter between James T. Kirk of the Enterprise – "
"Kirk," muttered Chokotay. "The legendary Kirk. Why am I not surprised to find that he would be mixed up in this?"
"Indeed," said Tuvok. "As a result of that encounter, a significant number of tribbles were teleported from the Enterprise to a Klingon ship, presumably the Gr'oth. The most likely outcome was that the Klingons subsequently abandoned the ship, leaving it to drift, and removed any reference to it in the records."
"But at that time, tribbles were little furry things," said Harry. "They purred, apparently."
"Doctor McCoy of the Enterprise noted that tribbles seem to do nothing but eat and reproduce," said Tuvok. "He suggested that they are born pregnant, and would continue to reproduce as long as food was available. Extrapolating from his data about their rate of reproduction, there would have been over four thousand generations of tribbles that have been born on the Gr'oth. They have obviously become a very advanced species, adapting to their environment and adapting it to their needs. I would conjecture that they also have a deeply embedded racial memory, which would explain how they are aware of their planet of origin and of the Enterprise engineer, Angus Scott."
"But why do they want Seven and B'Elanna?" said Tom. "Do they really want to … eat them?"
"The tribbles have been engaged in conflicts with both the Klingons and the Borg," said Chokotay. "If McCoy was right, they might eat their enemies as a way of allowing themselves to keep making more tribbles. That explains why there were no Borg bodies on that cube."
"Not really the sort of trading arrangement I had in mind," said Captain Janeway.
"Nevertheless," said Seven, "perhaps the trade they propose should be considered. Their transwarp drive would allow Voyager to return to the Alpha Quadrant in months, rather than decades."
"No," said Captain Janeway.
"But – " said Seven.
"No," repeated Captain Janeway.
"Perhaps more to the point," said Chokotay, "is how we could stop them from taking Seven and B'Elanna by force. Can we outrun them?"
"Not a chance," said B'Elanna.
"Can we fight?" said Tom.
"Unlikely," said Tuvok.
The door hissed open and Neelix entered, with another cup of chicken soup for the captain.
"You all look very glum," he said.
"Seven and B'Elanna are likely to end up as tribble food," said Harry, "unless we can come up with something."
"Hard to see how," said Tom. "They're not even afraid of the Borg."
"Well, in my experience everyone is afraid of something," said Neelix. "What are tribbles afraid of?"
The bridge crew looked at each other.
"Tuvok, Tom, Harry, get back into the archives and see what you can find," said Captain Janeway. "If the tribbles have a race memory, there might be something we can use. In the meantime, the rest of you do whatever is possible to give us a fighting chance on weapons, shields and engines."
"Here it is," said Tom, bringing an image up on the display screen of the meeting room. "It's called a glommer. Originally a predator of tribbles on their homeworld, but genetically enhanced by the Klingons as a weapon in the Tribble War, as the Klingons called it."
The glommer was an ugly creature, with whiskers, a mane, and sharp-looking teeth and claws.
"Unpleasant, but showing them a picture of it isn't going to exactly strike fear into the collective tribble heart," said Harry.
"Well, if the tribbles have evolved, perhaps the glommer can as well," said B'Elanna.
"A good idea, but we don't have a glommer to start with," said Tuvok.
Neelix bustled in with a pot of medicinal tea for the captain. He glanced at the image of the glommer. "Looks like an ancestor of mine," he chuckled.
There was a long moment of silence around the table.
"Mister Neelix," said Chokotay.
"What?" said Neelix. "Why is everyone staring at me like that?"
"This is not going to work," said Neelix, as the Doctor completed the prosthetics on his face and head. "I'm just a cook!"
"You have just been promoted to commander of this vessel," said Captain Janeway.
"And Chief Glommer," added Tom.
"But I can't pretend to be a commander!" said Neelix. "I don't have the … bearing. They won't believe me!"
"I suspect he is correct," said the Doctor. "He might look scary, but his tone simply doesn't say carnivore."
"And I just can't do it!" said Neelix.
"Then Seven and B'Elanna will end up on the menu," said Tom.
Neelix looked at him, and then at the Doctor and the Captain.
"I'll … do my best," he said.
The com-link buzzed. "The hour is nearly up," said Harry from the bridge.
Captain Janeway, Tom, and Neelix – replete with fake teeth and claws, and wearing a dangerous-looking uniform – headed for the bridge. By the time they arrived, the image of Kathlif was on the viewscreen.
"The time has elapsed," said Kathlif. "Deliver the metal-man and the High-Head."
"Kathlif," said Captain Janeway, "allow me to introduce the high commander of this ship, Admiral Ordani, of the species glommer."
Kathlif visibly started. "The species … glommer?" he said.
"Why, is that important to you?" said Captain Janeway.
"Uh, er, no," said Kathlif. "But I was under the impression that you were the commander of Voyager. Your records make no mention of a high commander."
"Which is exactly the impression they are supposed to give," said Captain Janeway. "Admiral Ordani is far too important to be concerned with mundane matters such as running the ship."
Kathlif looked at Neelix/Ordani.
"Er, hullo," said Neelix/Ordani.
Kathlif stared. Then he said: "Hand over the metal-man and the High-Head, or we will take them."
Captain Janeway turned to face Neelix, so that Kathlif could not see her face. "You can do it," she whispered.
"We are hungry," said Kathlif.
Neelix looked at him.
"You … you can't have them," he said.
"Then we will take them," said Kathlif.
"They are powering weapons," whispered Harry.
"You will not," said Neelix. He drew himself up to his full height. "They are important to me."
"We are hungry," repeated Kathlif.
"Well," said Neelix. "So am I. If anyone is going to be eaten today, it will be tribbles."
"Eh?" said Kathlif.
"Yes," said Neelix. "I believe I would enjoy some roasted tribbles. Or baked, perhaps, with a nice pensubi glaze."
Kathlif began to whisper to the tribbles around him.
"Or skinned and boiled," went on Neelix.
"The tribble ship is being to pull away," said Harry softly.
"Or perhaps tribble fricassee," said Neelix. "My favourite, with herbs and s'junz garnish. Or done as a soup, cooked slowly over an open fire."
"Picking up speed," said Harry.
"They are about to engage their transwarp drive," said Seven.
"Did I mention tribble omlette?" said Neelix. "Or perhaps simply raw, like in the old days."
Then the Gr'oth was gone.
Neelix collapsed into the captain's chair. "Oh dear," he said. "I didn't know I had it in me."
"Thank you, Neelix," said B'Elanna.
Captain Janeway sneezed again.
"Captain, should I make you some more soup?" said Neelix. He started to get up.
"No, stay there," she said. "I believe you've earned the right to be captain, at least temporarily. In fact, I think I will give myself a few days of sick leave. Stay in the chair until I return." She left for her room.
Everyone looked at Neelix. "Uh, Mister Paris, er, resume course," he said. "If that's alright with you, that is."
"Indeed it is," said Tom, punching buttons on the console.
"Where do you think they might go?" said B'Elanna. "Hunting for more Borg?"
"Guess so," said Harry. "They were headed that way. So for us, they'll be no – "
"Don't say it!" said Tom.
" – tribble at all," finished Harry.
END