Chapter Five.

Malcolm's fears were justified!

The tribbles had already escaped from the crewmen's quarters, and were happily bouncing around the ship's corridors.

Over the next few hours, they were to be seen in such places as the mess hall, the quartermaster's stores, the gymnasium (can't imagine what they were doing there!), engineering and the armoury. It seemed that everywhere you looked – there was a tribble, or ten.

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Malcolm stepped out of his shower with a towel wrapped loosely round his middle. He opened a drawer to get his clean underwear and stepped back in disgust! Several multi-coloured balls of fluff were sleeping amongst his socks and smalls. He fastidiously picked up a pair of boxers in which a tribble was nestling, and unceremoniously tipped it onto the floor. It squeaked in annoyance and rolled around in circles.

Moving quickly, Malcolm opened the door of his quarters wide, went back inside and tipped the tribbles out of his drawer. He followed them into the corridor and gave the last one a mighty kick which sent it flying down ahead of its mates. "And don't come back," he called after them.

Then he realised that his towel had slipped, so bent down to retrieve it. As he did so, he heard wolf whistles in the corridor behind him. He looked back and saw three junior crewmembers, two of them women, and they all had big grins on their faces. "Nice bum, lieutenant!" one of the women called out. He straightened up facing the crewmen, thus giving them a full frontal view, threw his towel over his shoulder, and strolled nonchalantly back inside his quarters, leaving the crewmen looking rather stunned.

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In the captain's quarters, Porthos was snoozing on his cushion at the foot of Archer's bed. His nose started twitching. He opened one eye, and was confronted with a ball of chocolate brown fluff. It was snuggled up against him, cooing quietly to itself. Puzzled, he sniffed it, decided that it was harmless, and went back to sleep.

Coming back from his shift an hour later, Archer was surprised to see Porthos apparently sleeping on a multi-coloured fur blanket. As usual, Archer was greeted warmly by his pet as soon as he arrived home, but in doing so, he dislodged his 'blanket', which turned out to be about fifteen tribbles of different hues. Said tribbles immediately bounced and rolled around the room, looking for...what?

Angrily, Archer opened the door and encouraged them to leave. They seemed happy do do so, and were soon rolling and bouncing down the corridor.

"Did you have to have your friends round, Porthos?"

Porthos gazed up at his master, hurt. 'There was only one when I last looked, and I didn't invite him.'

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Half an hour later, Captain Archer was in his private mess about to have his dinner. It had just been served by the steward when the comm. beeped.

"Tucker to Captain Archer."

"What now?" he complained as he went to answer Trip's call. "Go ahead, Trip."

"Cap'n, you've gotta come down to Engineering and see what's goin' on here. We're overwhelmed with tribbles and they're getting into everything. We're gonna have major trouble soon."

"Be right there, Trip. Archer out. Steward," he called, "cover my dinner, will you? I'll be back...I hope."

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Down in Engineering, Trip was getting really ratty. The animals were everywhere and his staff seemed unable to clear them out of various systems. As soon as one area was cleared, they were to be found in another. Then that area was cleared and the first was full of them again. He was tearing his hair out in despair. If they got into some of the more delicate systems, there could be fires, explosions, and goodness knows what else!

Archer saw Trip's problem immediately he poked his head inside the door. Trip was actually standing on top of the warp engine shooing the animals off.

"Hey, Cap'n," he called on seeing his C.O. "This has got beyond a joke, if it ever was one. These critters should be classified as pests and exterminated. They're causing too many problems."

"I see your point, Trip," Archer said as he came across the room to the engine. "Have they done any real damage anywhere?"

"Well, no. Not yet, but it's only a matter of time."

"I wonder if Malcolm has come up with any ideas yet?"

"If he hasn't, he'd better do so P.D.Q. I need to have them cleared right out of this area." Trip was not happy.

"I think we need to have a talk. I'll call a senior staff conference in my ready room in half an hour."

"I'll be there." Trip looked grim. He gazed at the chaos around him, and wished he could shove them all into a torpedo tube and fire it!

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Chef was having even greater problems. The tribbles had invaded his galley, managed to get into the storerooms, larder and coldstore, and were definitely making a meal of it. They were eating everything! They were just like a swarm of locusts! Preparing meals for the crew was becoming increasingly difficult. If they continued like this the crew were going to starve. Something had to be done – and soon.

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In her quarters, T'Pol was preparing to meditate. She lit her candles, carefully extinguishing the taper, then went to get a cushion, which she placed on the floor. At that moment the comm beeped.

"The captain requires all senior staff to attend a meeting in his ready room, in thirty minutes, please."

If T'Pol had been capable of saying, "Damn," she probably would have done, as it was she merely raised an eyebrow a fraction, and pressed the button to respond. "Understood, T'Pol out." Half an hour was not long enough for meditation, she would have to wait.

She turned around to snuff out her candles – and found her cushion now occupied by several multi-coloured tribbles!

'This is not acceptable,' she thought. 'Where did they come from.' She looked around her quarters hoping to find how they had got in, but, of course, was unsuccessful. She went into the bathroom and collected a towel into which she gathered the tribbles.

"I have no idea how you got into my quarters," she told them, "but you are leaving immediately."

She opened the door, and flapped the towel to shake the animals out into the corridor. She re-entered her room thinking that, after that, she really needed to meditate right now, but knew that that was not an option.

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Archer sat down to resume his dinner, hoping it had not gone cold. He lifted the stainless steel dome off his plate – and half-a-dozen tribbles fell into his lap. Of his dinner, there was no sign!

"That does it!" he declared. "This is WAR!"

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