Stardate: the day before Halloween

Location: Fleet Starbase

"Good afternoon, gentlemen," Fleet Admiral Tancred the Icecold started his speech in front of all the senior officers of the TIC. "Before you all go and start preparing your costumes to the Halloween Party, I have one… hm… two questions for you all," he narrowed his eyes. "The first one is — where is Lieutenant Num?"

Noise of approaching steps of someone on very knocky heels came to their ears and Admiral's antennas turned towards the door. The named Lieutenant Num entered the promenade, looking like if he'd already visited some Halloween party and drank there a lot of Romulan Ale. His dressing was very far from what could be called official and his face, in addition, was covered with layer of white powder of unknown source. But the thing everyone was staring at was actually on the top of his head.

"Elements… is this hair? How'd he even manage to put it there?" whispered R'om.

"I don't know. Looks more like a mould of some kind. May appear tasty," replied Isria and giggled.

"Lieutenant Num, would you please…" Fleet Admiral started again, but was brutally interrupted by the Ferengi.

"Ladies and gentlemen, how do you like my Halloween costume of Joker?" Num demonstrated his sharp yellow teeth.

For a moment it seemed that the cold winds of Andoria started blowing silently around Tancred. Everyone stood still, and in this revered silence the sound of few soft Cardassian facepalms could be heard.

"You're wonderful, Little Num," Isria winked. She was the only one there with full immunity to any Andorian chill and the little cunning Ferengi always used it. "Please, go on, Admiral!"

"Right. So, as the first question's been solved by itself," he threw a gloomy glance at the Ferengi that was trying to hide his ridiculously bright appearance between Lieutenants Garak and Fargan, "let's get back to the main course. As many of you may have noticed, a number of unidentified pumpkin-like objects with small glowing items inside them was placed around our main base."

"Should we shoot them?" asked Sheryl the Merciless.

"No." Tancred frowned. "W-wait… don't interrupt me, officer!"

"We just wanted to ask, whose great joke was putting those pumpkins over there?" Fleet Admiral Selea emerged from silence and saved her colleague from the awkward situation. But the situation seemed to become more and more awkward every minute.

"Oh isn't it just clear? He said himself, he is the Joker today!" Sheryl pointed at Num, and the Ferengi tried to become even smaller than he was.

"How very funny, Admiral," Isria smirked, "blaming the poor…"

"Who're you calling the poor here, uh?" suddenly Num stopped hiding and jumped in front of her. "I was the richest one in this room, before you visited my ship! Ahem… and, if you're looking for someone to blame for the flying pumpkins, I'd definitely send you to the Spoonhead!"

Everybody stared on a group of Cardassians. They started staring at each other. Then everyone stared at Lieutenant Elim Julian Garak.

"Should I humbly remind you, that I am only half-Cardassian and definitely absolutely not a spy!" added he for some reason, although nobody asked him. "Those Pumpkins are quite enchanting, but I was sure it was Sheryl to thank for this masterpiece of holiday design!"

Fargan raised his eyeridges skeptically, but noone payed attention to him, so he continued to kick the tribbles, purring around him.

"Now that was really sloppy!" Sheryl narrowed her eyes. "I'm sure, you all are just covering Isria."

"Who? Me?" Trill unwillingly distracted herself from petting her battlecat.

"You. It's you who's always fond of all these parties!"

"That's unfair! You have nothing to prove it!" Isria looked almost crying. All the officers glared angrily at Sheryl, but she, as always, was merciless.

Pete the Battlecat came to protect the honor of his mistress. He roared and jumped high to reach Sheryl's face, but she dodged from his razorsharp claws in the last instance. The raging animal made a run through the hair of the TIC officers, leaving them in such an inappropriate mess, that the green disaster on Num's head didn't look that bad in comparison. One of the Romulans, history hides him from us, threw up a frost grenade, but Isria desperately protected her pet and fell unconscious on the promenade.

Everybody frightened. Somebody cried. Sheryl the Merciless shrugged.

Then Isria the Good Doctor stood up and laughed.

"Na'kuhl shields are really nice sometimes."

And all the TIC officers breathed out in relief and ran closer to give her a hug.

"I think… I think let them be where they are until it is Halloween," said Tancred the Icecold and the air around him became a little warmer. "But I won't mind if some of our Cadets shoot them later."

Sheryl the Merciless rubbed her hands and hailed Cadet Jorie — her merciless mind was already planning another merciless training. Elim the Spy went to the bar with Fargan the Quiet, as he was planning before, and waited there for Little Num, or, he'd rather say, Num the Big Ears, or even the Green Hair for today.

Meanwhile, at one of the tables near the big window two minor officers were staring at the row of pumpkins, soaring in space.

"So-o… what are you expecting from me?" asked the Andorian lady in old fashioned Captain uniform.

"There are vegetables flying on the station's orbit! You're supposed to be impressed!" replied the judge-like-looking gentlemen in dark robes. "They were impressed, and you're not. Mortals are so strange!"

"I'm a Time Agent, Q. I've seen killer tomatoes, zombie chickens, spaghetti monsters, even… even old fashioned human contraceptives with teeth! You're not going to impress me with some pumpkins flying in space! Try something less boring," she smiled sarcastically and sipped a little from her cup of ale.