First, a little explanation about this story. This story appears in a monthly Star Trek Fan club magazine. Each chapter is read a month apart. As such, it is written in a series format. You will notice as you read, that the chapters do not flow smoothly into one another, there is a lot of repetition, there are drastic storyline changes and each chapter should end with a hook to get the reader to come back next month. When read as a whole work, which I hope you will want to do, it will not appear as originally intended. It will show it's structural faults. This is not an excuse, but a warning.
The next thing I want the reader to know is the background. I started this as the fan club story, and some of the names are real people. Also, this was an experiment for me. A chance to try some things out with an audience. That is also why this is presented here on Fanfiction.net, so I can get some feedback on what works and what doesn't. When you are done, please leave some constructive advice on what you thought was both good and bad. It will only help to improve future chapters.
It seems silly, but I guess I should mention that I don't own the Star Trek franchise, so there. Hope you enjoy. Tom Hudspeth
The Adventure Continues…. Part 1
The section of space known as "The Triangle", where the Federation, Klingon and Romulan star empires all meet, is a place where civilizations and egos clash. It is a contested, and congested, area of space, with commerce vessels and warships roughly equaling each other.
Near the end of the Dominion War with the inhabitants of the Gamma Quadrant, the newly re-forged alliance of the United Federation of Planets and the Klingon Star Empire, decided to build a project to protect both of their interests in the Triangle, and to re-supply their ships in the war against the Dominion.
That project was Starbase 410, a giant "Guardian Class" space station. Located near the "ram qul", or Night Fire, nebula, and integrating the latest in Klingon-Federation technology, it was a totally self-sufficient bastion of peace, and a guardian of civilization in the troublesome "Triangle", where tempers were often short, and trigger fingers even shorter.
Lt. Commander Brian Starr deflected the incoming Bat'leth with his sword and spun on the ball of his foot, executing a perfect draw cut to the left across the Klingon's belly. Reaping wheat. As the Klingon doubled over, Brian chopped down through his neck, decapitating him. Splitting wood. Brian scarcely paused, one enemy down, as he confronted the next onrushing alien. This one foolishly held his Bat'leth above his head for a downward cut. At the last second, Brian sidestepped his foe and delivered a cut across his back, severing the Klingon's spinal cord. Beating rug. On came the next attacker.
In a small portion of Brian Starr's mind, he sensed the next attack, figured out the probable tactic the enemy would use, and came up with a way to counter it and deliver a killing blow. This analysis was completed, and the proper actions put into motion, without conscious thought. For him, time had slowed. Brian had reached the "One", a meditative state the people of his home planet, Avalon, had developed after years of personal training and combat.
Avalon was an earth colony that had been settled by people who revered the ancient chivalric codes and feudal society of old medieval Europe. The men, if born into the nobility, were trained from a young age to fight. They were taught to protect women and the weak. Brian and his brothers had been schooled in the ways of courtly manners, treating women as delicate beings who might break if treated too roughly. The women were taught to be submissive and proper ladies, with schooling limited to what they needed to know to run a household. Unfortunately, while creating excellent fighters, the society was also prone to chauvinism, stoicism, and machismo. It often left the men with no clue how to handle off-world women.
While in the state of "One", Brian Starr ceased being just a Lt. Commander in Starfleet, and became an almost perfect killing machine, almost tireless, his weapon and body as "One". A Klingon first lost his arm, and then on the follow-up swing, his life. Drawing water.
"Let your conscious thoughts go," Brian's instructor had always told him, "that's why it's called the 'One'".
"Fine," young Brian had replied, "I'll stop thinking".
"No," came the calm reply, "just let your mind relax and take you on a journey of discovery. Your thoughts will trace the roots of your problems and open your mind up like a flower to new solutions. You will perceive the world with the eyes of an eagle, the courage of a lion and the wisdom of an Owl."
He could still think in this state, and right now his thoughts were unusually clouded. The clarity of thought he usually reached would not come. Brian deflected another Bat'leth and drew his sword over his opponent's belly, this time to the right instead of the left. Sowing grain. This put him within thrusting range of the next Klingon, just as he had planned. Pitching hay. But then, he mused, his thoughts were never clear when he thought of Lt. Commander S'ena.
They had last served together aboard the U.S.S. Judith A. Resnik some years ago as ensigns fresh out of the Starfleet Academy, but he had never forgotten her. Half human and half Orion, it seemed that she had inherited the best from both worlds. Physically, S'ena looked like her father's Orion half: green skin, lustrous hair, supple body, and dancer's legs. She had also inherited his Orion pheromone system. She unconsciously emanated her feelings by smells. Smells which could have an affect on most animal life forms. Mentally, she took after her mother's human half: intelligent, witty and friendly, but withdrawn, with a strange empathy for plants and animals. All together, she was what any man could wish for, including Brian Starr.
Unfortunately, that was part of the problem, every man wanted her. Brian couldn't conceive of her still being unattached. The only reason he had had any success at becoming her friend on the Resnik was because he had resisted his body's urges to take their relationship any farther. It hadn't been easy for him to resist her, but one by one, he had watched as all the other men on the crew tried, and failed, to win her heart. This helped steel him to control his desires, and it paid off. Eventually S'ena approached him, and confided that she appreciated what a good friend Brian was. She liked him because he had never made a move for her! That of course told Brian that he never could make a move, or he would destroy the friendship he had worked so hard to forge. It was while caught in this delimma that they both received orders to different starships, but he had never forgotten her soft dark eyes, sexy smile or winning personality.
The Klingon's were still coming, but this time they came in a pair. His mind noted the disparity. Brian faked towards one, stepped towards the other, thrust him in the heart, (as if Klingon's had a heart, he mused). Gathering eggs. The remaining Klingon, seeing an opening in Brian's guard, leaped forward, only to die by Brian's sword as he drew it out of the first Klingon, waited until the second Klingon was committed, stepped aside, and decapitated him. Storing dishes.
He hadn't seen her again until today, and then only by chance on the promenade. He was sure she hadn't seen him. When he tried to catch her, she disappeared into the crowd. He wasn't sure how to approach her now anyway. He'd only recently been assigned to Starbase 410, and they worked in different departments on the large starbase. It was no wonder that they hadn't run into each other sooner, but he had been on board a month before finding out she was here. Usually, she was in all the gossip when she first came aboard. The men wanted to know how to meet her, and the women wanted to know how to beat her. Brian hamstrung a Klingon, sweeping floor, and thrust him in the back when he fell over. Churning butter.
When had they stopped writing each other? It must have been right after Wolf 359. Other than to ensure each one was alive, times had been too busy since then, first with the Borg, and then with the Dominion. They had lost touch. Maybe....
"T'Pina to Commander Starr"
The "One" burst like a bubble. Suddenly time returned to normal with a vengeance. Klingon blows rained down around Brian like a flood. It was all he could do to defend himself. First, one blow got through on his leg, then another on his side. As pain gripped him, his sword out of position, he looked up to see his deathblow.
"Computer! Freeze program!" Brian yelled.
All movement in the holodeck stopped. Hoards of computer generated Klingons stood ready to kill or be killed. Many lay still as if dead already, which is what they would have been had they been real, instead of holographic images.
"Starr here, Captain."
"I need to see you as soon as possible about a discrepancy in one of your reports."
"I've been exercising, I'll need to shower and change."
"Fine, I'll expect you at my office in 12.6 minutes. T'Pina out."
The planet culture of Avalon didn't allow for using expletives, but Brian could begin to see the need for them in space.
"Computer, end program." He said as he rushed from the room.
Lt. Commander S'ena's new assignment to Starbase 410 was both good, and bad, she reflected. On the one hand, she would miss the weekly opportunity she had on a starship to see strange plants and animals on every new planet. She already missed the camaraderie of the friends she had left behind. But on the other hand, she could make all new friends on the starbase, and her new private lab was actually state-of-the-art, and big! She had lots more room for her pets and projects. Many of the plants and animals she had brought with her were settling in just fine.
Her hexcat, Catastrophe, or Tass, for when he wasn't in trouble, which was rare, was making himself right at home investigating and generally getting in everybody's way. Most people now just avoided her lab when they knew he was there. If you can imagine a normal terran feline with an extra set of legs and an even higher amount of curiosity, you can get close to what a hexcat is like to have around. Throw in faster speed, suction cup footing for ducking around corners, and the ability to climb flat walls at a run, and you can see why few people keep them for pets. Still, he was well behaved for S'ena, and fun to have around.
The one creature she was worried about was the new one she had picked up at Deep Space 9. The bartender there had called it a tribble, and had warned her not to feed it much. She had found out why before she even got to the station! She was only just able to lower the tiny creature's metabolism in time for it to re-absorb the dozen offspring it was about to give birth to.
It was also the reason Captain T'Pina, the station's Executive Officer, had assigned her duties as Quarantine Officer for Starbase 410, since tribbles, it turned out, where: 1. Extinct and 2. Considered by Starfleet to be dangerous. Well, the first had obviously been wrong, and she was still investigating the reasons for the second. Captain T'Pina had lectured her about the transport of dangerous creatures, and had told her to bone up on the appropriate Starfleet regulations, since she had just volunteered for the job of inspecting all plants and animals brought onto the station. Well, S'ena couldn't think of a better job for her!
S'ena picked up and stroked the soft ball of fur. Even though it's metabolism was still slowed, it cooed in a pleasing manner. How could something so nice be considered dangerous? Sure, they bred faster than space herpes, but she figured she could fix that if she tweaked a gene here and swapped a gene there....
She put the creature carefully back into its cage and reached for her data padd. Yes, she thought, take a gene from this creature, add in some random variations. Of course she couldn't experiment on her original subject... Now S'ena regretted her earlier decision. Well, first thing she had to do was make more subjects. Fortunately, that didn't look like it would be a problem, or take that much time....
Brian Starr arrived at T'Pina's office in exactly 12.5 minutes. Silently congratulating himself on beating her time estimate, he chimed her door.
"Enter" came a crisp and proper Vulcan response.
The door opened to reveal Captain T'Pina in her usual pose, hunched over her computer terminal reading reports. A debilitating engineering explosion during the attack at Wolf 359 had left her permanently injured, though nothing showed except for a limp, and the cane she used to get around. Not a bad trade for the lives of the crew on the ship she had saved. Unfortunately she had to give up normal shipboard activities, so instead of resigning from Starfleet, she accepted a desk job at Starbase 410. Now she kept the large station fed and supplied from her desk. Not unlike a spider in the middle of its web, Brian thought. She looked up and acknowledged Brian's presence with an arched eyebrow.
"I see you are early."
"Yes Captain, how can I help you."
T'Pina handed Brian a data pad. On it was his report on a grain shipment of quadro-triticale the starbase had received yesterday. It was scheduled to be moved to General K'batlh's Klingon Battlecruiser, the I.K.V. Hegh qaD, over an hour ago. The Battlecruiser was permanently assigned to Starbase 410 as part of the Klingon-Federation alliance. The General was supposed to take it to K'Dorn, a Klingon world on the border with Cardasian space. Not a glorious mission, but a necessary one for the war ravaged planet of K'Dorn.
T'Pina then handed Brian a second data padd, this one a report from the Hegh qaD written in Klingon. Brian looked up at T'Pina questioningly.
"Press the translator key Commander."
"Oh, yes." Brian hurriedly complied.
The Klingon script disappeared and was replaced with Federation standard words and symbols. Brian quickly scanned the document.
"This report shows a volume discrepancy of 100 kilos." Brian said.
"How would you explain it?" T'Pina asked.
Brian thought for a minute. "I would suggest a sensor or transporter miss-alignment, either here or on the Hegh qaD. Since I know that isn't the case with the station's equipment, I checked it out prior to beaming the grain to the hold, I would guess the Hegh qaD's equipment is faulty."
"And if I told you the General felt the same way about his equipment as you feel about yours?" T'Pina asked.
"Then if neither set is at fault, I would have to say that someone or something stole the grain from the hold. But why only 100 kilos?" Brian wondered.
"I don't know, but I want to know. K'Dorn needs every grain of quadro-triticale we can send it and more." T'Pina said. "There will be more shipments coming in and I want this matter settled before the Commodore gets back from her away mission."
"Can I ask the nature of the Commodore 's mission, Captain?"
"No, you may not." T'Pina said curtly. "I want that report as soon as possible, dismissed."
"Yes ma'am." Brian said as he turned for the door.
"And Commander."
Brian turned at the doorway.
"Had you taken the extra .1 minute to check yourself in the mirror before you left your quarters, you would have seen that your comm badge was upside down. Attention to detail has saved more starships than trying to impress a superior."
"Yes ma'am."
Sheepishly, Brian turned and left the office. The day was not going well...
Deep in the bowels of the space station, in places that normally never heard the sound of human footsteps, Brian roamed. Hold A127-D87 should have been right around the corner after A127-D88, but the sadist that designed Starbase 410 wasn't going to let Brian off that easy. He knew he should have just transported straight to the hold, but T'Pina probably would have thought it a waste of energy. As if a starbase the size of 410 couldn't spare a little energy for just one transport. Well, two, if he wanted to get out again.
Eventually, Brian found the correct hold one level down. He spared a moment to note that whomever originally placed the designation placards on the cargo holds, did so with the horizontal position before the vertical, instead of the galactic standard of vertical before the horizontal. Of course, they would all have to be changed.
Oh, joy, he thought. One guess as to who T'Pina will find for that thankless chore.
"Computer, open the airlock on hold A127-D87 please."
"Please enter authorization code."
"Starr 2B-R0-2B"
"Confirmed."
The airlock slid open with a hiss as the air inside the hold equaled with the pressure of the air in the hallway. Brian's hair ruffled in the slight breeze. The interior of the hold was dark and cavernous.
"Lights"
Instantly the storage area was filled with bright light, revealing every corner of the now empty hold. Brian stepped in and walked to the middle of the hold. His footsteps echoed in the huge cavernous space. Taking out his tricorder, he started his examination. The floor showed the faint traces of the transporter pad buried in it. The walls were smooth and solid. As he crossed back towards the center, he felt a slight breeze. Brian looked up into the bright lights.
"Computer, dim the lights by 35% please."
Instead of bright and sunny, the lights dimmed as if a cloud had passed over the sun. In the roof of the hold were light panels and ventilation shafts.
Well, he thought, I'd better look up there too.
Brian stepped back into the hallway and retreated down it to a maintenance room. Once there, he found an antigravity platform, and some tools used to change the light panels. When he returned to the cargo hold, Brian clipped the remote control to his waist, and turned on the platform. The platform rose off of the floor about 3 centimeters, and its telltale status lights blinked green. Brian stepped onto the platform and gave the command for it to raise.
One by one, Brian inspected the light panels and ventilation shafts for security and tampering. He could not find anything wrong, except for a bit of dried slime on one of the shafts. Taking his tricorder from his waist, he scanned the remains of the slime.
Later, back in the occupied sections of the station, Brian approached the Xenobiology department. As he neared the doors to the lab, they opened to reveal... S'ena!
He stopped dead in his tracks and gaped. At sight of him, she ran forward and jumped into his arms, giving him a very unprofessional hug. Her pheromones engulfed him and he felt immense pleasure and happiness.
"Brian! It's so good to see you again! It's been sooo long! How long has it been? Did you miss me? When did you come aboard? I've only been here a week. Are you stationed here? Won't it be great to work together again? I can't wait to show you...."
Brian stood in awe. She was as beautiful now as she had ever been, if not more so. His mind, unable to function with the surprise, slipped into the "One". But the unconscious portion of his combat skills could only come up with nonsense as well. Running rabbit. Panicked chicken. Spitting kitten. One by one, ludicrous plans flowed uselessly through his mind. How embarrassing. Brian could hear, as if from a far distance away, a conversation.
"Quick, do something!"
"She's cheating! She's using her pheromones!"
"Well, I don't know what to do."
"He won't respond."
"He is too responding, just not the right way!"
"If you've got any ideas, I'll try them."
"This is not a combat situation!"
"Uh oh!, she stopped talking and wants a response."
"What did she ask?"
"How should I know?"
"Check the short term memory!"
"Oh, yes. Nope, won't work either. It shut off at the same time as he saw her."
"He's got to say something!"
As the shock of seeing, and smelling, S'ena so suddenly began to wear off, Brian slowly realized that the conversation was taking place inside his head. Shut up both of you! he thought to himself, I'll handle this now.
When S'ena felt Brian stiffen from slipping into the "One", she released him and took a step back. When he didn't respond to her questions she started to pout, that always put men on the defensive and let them know she needed attention right away. She didn't understand, most men would have been drooling for her by now, Brian just stood there, gaping, like a fish.
"Yes!" Brian finally said, taking a chance that that was the correct response. Apparently it was, because S'ena stopped pouting and began to smile again.
The small voice in the back of his mind yelled, "Great! Now follow up by saying something complementary!"
Brian released the "One", and decided honesty was the best policy.
"I'm sorry, I was just so surprised by your beauty, that I couldn't think for a minute. I'm still shook up. When did you say you got here?"
S'ena's elation was plain to see. He still likes me!, she thought. Then she turned mother hen.
"Well come into my lab and sit down for a minute." She said as she grabbed his arm and ushered him inside.
The lab was full of cages and plant growth trays. All forms of alien creatures and plants squeaked, squawked, trilled, whistled, honked, eked, screeched, and made a few other sounds that weren't even in Federation Standard yet. S'ena sat Brian down in the only chair, and began to dance around the lab, going from one tray or cage to the next, in an effort to calm her charges.
As Brian began to relax, a heavy weight suddenly descended upon the center of his back, pushing him to the floor. He rolled with the fall and came up in a defensive crouch. Sitting comfortably on Brian's former chair was Catastrophe, looking as if he had been there for a long time. He hissed at Brian as if to say, "This is my chair, you can't have it!"
"Sorry, Tass." Brian said. "You can have it, I'll just make myself comfortable right here on the floor." Brian sat down on the floor and stared at Tass, trying to intimidate him. Tass began to wash himself.
"Oh Brian, you're so thoughtful," S'ena said as she returned. "But really, he's just a hexcat, you shouldn't move for him. He'll just get spoiled."
S'ena picked up Tass, gave him a quick hug, and shooed him on his way. The hexcat glared at Brian, as if it was his fault!
Brian picked himself up off of the floor and looked at S'ena. Her big soft eyes threatened to pull him into the depths of her soul. No! That was the surest way to lose her.
"I thought you were serving on the U.S.S. Layton." Brian said.
"I was, until the Dominion put her into dry-dock. What about you? What brings you to this neck of the galaxy?"
"Same story. The Harrington took one too many hits during the retaking of Deep Space 9, only she wasn't salvageable. A lot of good friends died."
A depressing silence lingered over the two of them as they both reflected on comrades lost and gone forever.
S'ena, never one to be sad for long, said, "No silly, I meant what brought you to the Xenobiology Lab? Did you come looking for me?"
"Yes, I mean, no. I saw you yesterday on the promenade, but I couldn't catch you in the crowd. I should have figured out where to find you, but in reality, I came here to find out what this substance is." Brian showed S'ena the scraping of slime he had collected.
"Well, what have we here?" S'ena asked as she took the sample.
"I had hoped that you could tell me. My tricorder says it's biological, but can't decide if it's plant or animal."
S'ena placed the sample on a slide, and placed it under a more powerful sensor unit. She took a few readings and suddenly stiffened.
"Where did you say you got this sample?" she asked seriously.
"Down in one of the cargo holds, why?"
"Was it on the floor, or near any cracks?"
"It was at one of the ventilation shafts."
"Oh no!" Sena exclaimed. "Computer, Initiate Quarantine Procedures C-7!"
"What is it S'ena? Just what is this stuff?"
"This station just came down with a case of..."
"SPACE HERPES!?!" Lt. Commander K'SQqwa SuDs'qan'ya, a Klingon serving in Starfleet as Starbase 410's head of station security, yelled. "Are you serious!"
"Without a doubt." S'ena said at the senior staff briefing.
"What are your suggestions Commander?" T'Pina asked.
"Well, I've already instituted quarantine procedures C-7..."
"And boy is everyone mad!" quipped Major Madia Amme of the Bajoran Militia.
"...and that means that no one and nothing can beam off the station." S'ena finished.
General K'batlh growled, "Captain T'Pina, I and over half my crew are stuck on this station! My transporters aren't working for some reason, and I can't run a Battlecruser from the middle of a starbase! What would happen if we were attacked? Who is going to deliver the grain to K'Dorn?"
T'Pina gave the Klingon General a cool stare. "General, are you implying that your crew can't maintain your ship without you? Are you suggesting that they aren't trained? Do you lack confidence in your warrior's ability to handle the situation without you?"
"No! My crew is the finest in space and I'd put them up against any other ship in the galaxy, Cardasian or Federation."
"As to your questions," T'Pina continued, "When Commander S'ena implemented the quarantine procedures, transporter inhibitors came on all over the station. That is why your transporters aren't working. Now they can only be turned off by the Commodore, Commander S'ena or myself. If the station is attacked, the Hegh qaD can fight or flee, as the General commands." T'Pina's demeanor softened as she turned back towards K'batlh. "Personally, I hope she stays."
"The Hegh qaD would never run from a fight!"
"Good, that settled, what about the grain?"
"Captain," Madia answered, "Most of the transports bringing the grain can just continue on to K'Dorn. We'll have to pay some heavy bribes, but the traders will chance the run if they know they'll be paid extra. As for the shipment of quadro-triticale on board the Hegh qaD, provided it's not still infected, there are some old cargo containers still in far station orbit that the Hegh qaD could transport the grain to after they inspect it. Then, the U.S.S. Rage could put a tractor beam on them and take them to K'Dorn. It may take an extra day, but the grain would get there. As you may know, the Rage was just returning from DS9 when the quarantine protocols went into effect, and was not affected by them. The Rage could then stay at K'Dorn to inspect, or help guard, future shipments,."
"Good Major," T'Pina said, "With the General's permission...?"
"Granted."
"Fine, that's taken care of. Now, Commander S'ena, what kind of contamination are we looking at?"
"Well, space herpes have an unknown planet of origin. They are part plant and part animal. Boneless, they are able to squeeze through cracks like water, leaving a trail of slime behind them. They average in size from a 3 to 15 cm. They are asexual, reproducing by dividing in half, and they breed like, well, like space herpes. They absorb anything biological in nature, and can metabolize materials that would normally prove toxic. Sensors can't pick them up, but tricorders can if within 2 to 3 meters. They can't be deliberately beamed out, poisoned, stomped or cut to pieces. Federation protocols suggest using tricorders to locate them, and phasers to burn them, in a deck by deck search. But remember, all we need to do is miss one to wind up right back in the same situation."
"Quarantine procedures C-7 instituted force fields around most of the important vulnerable systems and allow for us to use the automatically activated intruder alert systems," K'SQqwa SuDs'qan'ya added. "With your permission, Captain, we can activate the sentry phasers. That ought to get a few of them."
"We could equip some repair droids with tricorders and phasers to patrol the places we can't get to." Lt. John Cole suggested.
"Those sentry phasers aren't Federation policy, are they?" Major Madia asked.
"No, they were put in at the insistence of the Klingon engineers," K'SQqwa answered, "But the Commodore didn't fight against it."
"Have we found out how the space herpes got on to the station?" T'Pina asked.
"Captain," Brian spoke up, "As you might have deduced, they came on board with the first shipment of quadro-triticale. This is the reason for the 100 kilo volume discrepancy."
"The trader has been notified, and ordered to return here for decontamination. We have also notified DS9 and all Federation aligned ships in the area." Madia added.
Brian nodded at the Bajoran Major and continued. "They ate some of the grain, and then one or more escaped through the ventilation shafts."
"You mean some of these things could be on board the Hegh qaD?" K'batlh started.
"No! At least we don't think so. Our transporter records indicate that probably none were beamed over, but the organisms are not exactly easy to find on sensors."
"I'm going to have my crew check the ship." The General growled.
"We might as well plan with the idea that the Hegh qaD is contaminated as well." T'Pina said.
Commander K'SQqwa looked up. "Could we use the transporter to get rid of these things?"
Brian shook his head. "No, unfortunately so far, we can only detect them after transport has taken place by examining the transport logs. But I think we could re-align the internal sensors to look for the slime trails, and then transport whatever was at the end creating them."
"Commander Starr," T'Pina decided, "I want you to get with the transporter chief and work on that. I'd like to find a way to get the General and his crew back to their ship, and a way to decontaminate any future grain shipments. But unless there is an emergency or an attack, I'm not going to authorize the termination of the transport inhibitors."
"Understood Captain."
"Commander K'SQqwa, I want you to start recruiting for a deck by deck decontamination. Since they aren't going anywhere until this mess is cleaned up, with the General's permission of course, equip his men with tricorders and phasers. That should keep them entertained and speed up the process."
General K'batlh nodded his head in agreement. "Exterminating vermin is not exactly a fit job for a true warrior, but my men will cooperate."
"Commander S'ena, I want you to see to the programming of the tricorders and then work on the station sensors. I refuse to believe that these things can't be picked up somehow."
"Understand this Ladies and Gentlemen, the Commodore will be back within the week, and I don't want to have to tell her she can't come aboard her own Starbase. Dismissed!"
Back in the Xenobiology lab, Catastrophe was intrigued. The container with the soft furballs, that the big one wouldn't let him play with, was filling up. The big one had been playing with the original furball and wouldn't share it. Ok, fine with him, but when she appeared with more furballs, and put them in the container with the grain, that was just too much. She should have shared then, Tass thought.
Now the container was filling up and Tass was waiting to see how full it could get before it burst. Curiosity was eating him alive, and finally he decided not to wait any more. He sauntered up to the cage and "accidentally" knocked it over the side of the table.
When the cage hit the floor it came open, spilling furballs everywhere. Oh, joy! Oh, rapture! Tass thought excitedly as he jumped down into their midst.
Suddenly, the mass of furballs started shrieking. To the hexcat's sensitive ears, it was almost incapacitating. Tass jumped out of the pile of furballs, and back on to the table. From there, he leaped to the wall and ran to the far corner where the walls met the ceiling. Huddled in the corner he reconsidered his position on furballs as play toys. The big one can keep them all if she wants!
Hunger. Move. Sense. No food. Move. Plant=food. Eat. No food. Hunger. Move. Sense. Move.
Slowly the tribbles covered the lab, eating everything that they could find, except for the sharp slashing hexcat in the corner of the ceiling, and the things in cages they couldn't get out. Where they found food, they ate and multiplied. When they could find no more food, they found ways out of the lab and into the rest of the station.
Hunger. Move. Sense. No food. Hunger. Move. Sense. No food. Hunger. Move. Sense. No food...