Thunderbirds & Star Trek
It was the weird cooing noise that first drew Scott's attention to the fact that they had picked up a stowaway on their mission.
Thunderbird Three had been on a rescue mission to again fix a mining crawler by the company Gray & Houseman, this time an asteroid part of the ones caught by Neptune's pull.
Alan knew this mission, he'd performed it before on Mercury, and Scott had sat back and put him in charge again, marvelling at how much his baby brother had matured over the years. Alan was definitely going to be iR's next commander, long though that may be in the future.
Scott searched through the cargo hold for the source of the cooing. It took a while, but eventually he found a small brownish orb-thingy had managed to get into the ration box. The Medscanner told him it was harmless so he picked it up.
Immediately the blob began to purr, and Scott began to relax. The creature was small enough to hold with one hand, and he activated his comms with the other and waited for his brother's hologram to appear.
'Scott? What have you got there?'
He looked up and smiled sheepishly at John's raised eyebrow. Without even realising it Scott had begun to stroke the blog like it was a cat. He held it up to show John. It grumbled when he stopped petting it.
'WHERE THE HELL DID YOU GET THAT?"
Scott physically recoiled from John's panicked shout. His brother was unflappable, yet there was an edge to John's voice Scott had never heard before.
'I found it in the ration box in the cargo bay. Why?'
'You – you need to get rid of it! Now!'
'Why? Do you know what this is?'
He held the creature up and was astonished when holo-John recoiled. Scott was even more surprised when the panic he'd heard earlier was still in John's voice.
'How can you not know what that is!'
'Why would I? I've never been to Neptune, let alone one of the dozen asteroids that follow it.'
John's frustrated growl did nothing to quell the growing anxiety Scott was feeling, and before he realised he was practically hugging the creature to his chest, listening to the cooing and purring which seemed louder the more anxious Scott was getting.
'Scott. You need to put the tribble down somewhere secure where it cannot get into any foodstuffs and turn Three around and leave that thing where you found it!'
'Wait – tribble? I've heard that term before. Where have I heard that term before?'
'Get up to the cockpit, Scott, and we will discuss not only what you and Alan are going to do with that thing, we will be talking about your woeful lack of classic TV.'
Scott frowned but did what his brother said. The only secure thing he had for the tribble in was the ration box which now was empty. That was four weeks' worth of food…he put that thought aside and locked the box before making his way back to the cockpit. Alan had killed Three's engine and was waiting for him with John, Virgil, Gordon and Brains.
They were all standing (sitting in Alan's case) with identical poses. Arms folded across chests and frowns. Scott felt like he was the only one not in the know.
'Ok guys. What the hell is a tribble?'