Mud
"You should name it" Kirk said suddenly, his voice rising out of the silence as he poked the tricoloured with the end of his pencil. Causing it to emit a soft, questioning squeak.
"That is illogical,' The Tribble's owner spoke up. A tall, thin Vulcan in a golden command shirt, scowling up from his work. Intercepting Klingon communications. "Tribbles are unintelligent lifeforms. They have no ability to understand commands. Let alone respond to them..." As a full blooded Vulcan, Serek had little patience for the majority of things Spock had come to live with.
"Yeah, but you should still name it something. You can't just call it 'The Tribble' for ever...' the captain reasoned, lowering his chin to the table to watch the fuzzy brown creature at eye level. "Don't Vulcans name things?" He questioned, turning his eyes to Serek.
"Of course we do. But we reserve them for intelligent beings..." there was a hint of anger in his tone. Impatience too. A moment passed before the goldshirt spoke again, sitting up straight as Spock entered the room, opening his mouth to call for back up. Serek was still young, still learning to bury his emotions. Though it was unlikely he'd get more skilled at it when he was surrounded by humans, and the at times childish James Tiberius Kirk. "Spock, please inform Captain Kirk that a Tribble has no such need for a name". The blue shirted commander looked over to them, "Serek is correct, Tribbles have no such need". Serek was about to shoot Kirk a smug glance, but was cut off by Spock's voice again. "However, I think it would be socially beneficial to humour the Captain..." And with that, he walked off.
Kirk grinned, "Let's call him Mud!" he suggested. And Serek lowered his eyes to his work, huffing. Then a moment later he spoke again,
"You are lucky we still call you Kirk..."