Chapter Seven.
"Reed to Tucker."
"Go ahead, Mal."
"I've formulated a plan, Trip, but I need engineering help."
"We'd better discuss it then. My quarters. Ten minutes. Tucker out."
Malcolm grinned to himself. It hadn't taken him too long to come up with his plan, once the idea had come to him, so he picked up his PADD and headed for Trip's quarters.
Trip was looking the worse for wear, and although it was gone midnight, he had obviously just come back from engineering.
"Did you get things sorted down there?" Malcolm asked.
"More or less. Can't take much more of this, though."
"If my plan works, you won't have to."
"OK. So tell me what you've got."
"I need a large container, big enough to take all the tribbles. If we build it in the launch bay, we can drop it full of tribbles onto whatever planet T'Pol finds."
"We've got to be kind to these critters, Malcolm. If we drop 'em in a metal box, they're all gonna end up dead!"
"Not if the box has parachutes, and when it lands, it rolls but doesn't roll too far."
"Parachutes, huh?"
"I've checked with the quartermaster and he's got three suitable for the job."
"What's this about rolling?"
""As you said, a six-sided box would land with quite a thump, even with parachutes, and a lot of the tribbles would either be injured or killed. If we were to use a sphere, it would land and then roll quite a distance before stopping. Think what that would do to the occupants. But, if we make it a polyhedron, it will roll when it hits the ground, but not too much."
"Right. A sphere with flat sides. Gotcha."
"Yes. We'd need twelve five-sided panels to make it."
"I'd better see if I've got enough suitably large-sized pieces of alloy, then." Trip reached up to the comm unit and soon had the relevant information.
"What sort of volume do you think we'll need, Mal?"
"At the moment I don't know. We've got to get all the tribbles in at one go, and as they're spread all over the ship, it's difficult to work out how many there are. I think we'll just have to make it as big as possible."
"The biggest sheets of alloy we've got will make panels with sides of two metres. That'll be about..." He did some quick mental calculations, "Sixty-one point three cubic metres. D'ya think that'll be big enough?"
"I've no idea, Trip. But if that's the best we can manage, it'll have to do."
"I won't ask how you're gonna get them into this box, Mal, 'cos right now I don't wanna know. But, what I do want to know is how're you gonna get them out once they're on the planet?"
"What's my speciality, Trip?"
"Explosions."
"Right."
"You're not gonna wait till they're down there, then blow them all to Kingdom come, are you?" Trip asked, aghast.
"No, Trip. We've got to be kind to them, remember? I'll open the container with a series of small, controlled explosions. They'll be able to leave completely unharmed. Hoshi will be delighted."
Work began on the container first thing next morning, both armoury and engineering teams pitching in. Everyone was keen to see the back of the tribbles.
It took them all day. It was hot, heavy work, lifting all the panels into position and then welding them together.
One panel in the front was hinged at the top so that when the last tribble was in, it could be dropped shut and would lock automatically. Malcolm had put his explosive charges in strategic places, and the parachutes were attached. They would open as soon as the container dropped out of the ship, so that it would have a gentle ride down to the surface.
There were just two more things that Malcolm needed. He found the Captain in his ready room and asked him, "Captain, has T'Pol found a home for the tribbles, yet?"
"Yes, and we're on our way there, now. An M-class planet with lots of interesting vegetation, insects, birds and an assortment of mammals. It should suit them fine. We arrive in a few hours."
"That's good. Um.. Captain, I need Porthos' bed, and I'm afraid he won't get it back."
"What?" Archer was puzzled. "What on Earth do you want with Porthos' bed?"
"To help get rid of the tribbles, Sir. And the quartermaster is in the process of making Porthos a new bed as we speak."
"Oh, well. Fine. I'll have a steward bring it for you."
"I'm afraid I'm going to need Porthos, too. But you will get him back," Malcolm hurriedly added as Archer was about to protest.
"Before I agree, I want to know what you're planning."
"Of course, Sir."
"Right, let's get Operation Eviction under way," Malcolm thought as he carried Porthos bed back to his quarters. Within a short while, the bed was in a hundred small pieces, most of them with a length of string attached. He then sent out a comm message asking all personnel not actually doing something essential, to come to the mess hall immediately. Picking up the sack containing Porthos bed, he made his way quickly to the mess hall. There was quite a crowd there already, wondering what was up. He emptied the sack onto a table to the surprise, and in some cases disgust, of the crewmembers, then told them what he wanted.
"You are each to take one of these pieces of Porthos' bedding and use it to entice tribbles to follow you. Don't worry about open places like corridors, I'm more concerned about the nooks and crannies. And there are a lot of them! Dangle the bedding inside conduits and jefferies tubes, cupboards, lockers, anywhere that these animals could possibly hide. When you've attracted some, lead them down to the launch bay. You'll be told what to do there. Then go find some more. Let's see if we can get them all rounded up in two hours."
Very soon, the pile of bedding was reduced to nothing but a few scraps and some dust.
'Enterprise'had now reached the planet that T'Pol had selected for the tribbles' new home, and was searching for a suitable landing site. Eventually she picked out a large island about the size of Australia as being the best place. It had a variation in climate from cool to quite warm, and the geography changed from mountains, through forests and swamps, to near desert. The tribbles would be able to choose the areas that suited them best. Travis found a large grassy area in gently rolling countryside, and took the ship down as near the surface as was safe. To the north of the landing site was a mountain range, and to the west was a forested area. A small river ran along the eastern edge. It was perfect. Travis circled the drop zone, waiting.
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