Lt. Uhura's Personal Log, Stardate 4523.3.
How does the old saying go? "May you live in interesting times?" I’m not sure whether that’s supposed to be a blessing or a curse. Well, life on the Enterprise is certainly not dull. I wonder if every starship is blessed with such interesting times—or if we’re just special.
Sometimes I ask my friend M'pella how her day went. Any evil duplicates? Time travel shenanigans? Space sickness removing everyone's inhibitions and making them try to rescue me, shirtless and waving a sword around? No, she got a cat. It made a mess on her carpet, but that was about it.
Our ship, on the other hand, has to boldly go save the galaxy from some evil alien, or star going supernova. And who has to keep an ear open for distress signals, and pick up the emergency hailing frequencies every time, first, before a bad day gets worse? Me.
...Computer, do I sound a little cranky today?
"Insufficient criteria. Please redefine parameters."
Oh, nevermind, it's just stress.
Today started out exciting, then boring. Priority One distress call - I usually don't get somebody yelling that in my ear unless their planet is about to explode. Turns out, they're worried about what might happen to some grain. Some very important, eco-integral grain, fine. But getting a call like that gets everybody’s blood pressure up. Especially mine. Then we get here, and no, the grain hasn't been sabotaged yet, but it might, and Starfleet's flagship just had to drop whatever it was doing, and…
Deep breaths, Nyota. Now you're talking to the computer. Maybe I should think about a cat. I believe the Enterprise does allow one pet per cabin. Or maybe a fish. Something that won’t send me on any more assignments. Or shoot me judgmental looks.
At least today's assignment landed us on a space station instead of a planet made of liquid nitrogen, or one of those evil universes. Captain's told everyone to get some much-needed shore leave when we're not busy guarding that grain. Doctor McCoy seconded. Guess I see their point. Thanks for listening, Computer; you're a doll.
Lt. Uhura's Personal Log, Stardate 4524.2.
Computer, I take back everything I said about this assignment! I’ll never complain about a false-alarm Priority One distress call again. Because look who I found!:
Oh, I didn't know how much I needed this. I was even more frazzled than I realized, wasn't I? I think we all needed this. Everyone I’ve seen so far seems to love them, even Spock.
Some of us needed a little convincing...
But not much! How could anyone say no?
I’m sure I won’t be the only one to pick up a tribble or two while we’re here.
And tribbles seem to be the perfect little friends, too! They don't make messes, they don't make noise or break things, they don't bother you with their silly problems or share unwanted opinions... and definitely no judging looks, since they don't have eyes! I'm not sure what they eat, so we'll have to see about that, but I can't see it being a problem. This little... one, who needs a name, something elegant, something regal… ah, it’s been worth the trip already.
What was it Spock said? Pets contribute nothing and give nothing in return? Well, I disagree, and I'll tell you what I told him - they give us love. And I know he understands this, I saw the way he was petting his fuzzy friend. He was trying so hard to keep a straight face, but nobody can resist tribbles, not even Vulcans. Come to think of it, he's had several animal friends, hasn't he? Cats like him, that horned canine alien… yes, he knows. I'll have to get them together for a play date.
Sulu... he'll have to earn the privilege. Thus speak-eth the 'fair maiden.'
Lt. Uhura's Personal Log, Stardate 4525.6.
Oh, I don't know why I didn't get a pet sooner. And I don't know why tribbles aren't a galaxy-wide sensation! I haven’t felt so good in ages. I think it’s the sound. So soothing…
I wonder if you could sleep on a bed made of tribbles? Without hurting them, of course. Or at least a pillow. How many would you need, ten? I wouldn’t mind ten tribbles. Or at least one who's always happy to see... wait a minute. Were there always two here?
Wasn't asking you this time, Computer, but thank you! What's this, under the... Well, looks like I got an even better deal than I thought. Three for the price of one. Wonder if I should tell Cyrano one of his tribbles was pregnant..."
Pregnant or - multiplying! Computer, are you getting this?
Right before my eyes! It split! It split just like a fuzzy, pink cell! This is - well, any other time, this would be interesting. Too interesting! What was I saying about interesting times?
Forget Cyrano, I think I'll tell Dr. McCoy. Come on, you three - four, five! I did wish for ten, but I'm not sure they'll stop there. I do hope there won't be any trouble...
The Not-The-Captain's Log revisits old favorite Star Trek adventures through the eyes of some old friends - and will probably boldly go on some new ones. Tune in for more here on Movie Pilot from regular Trek correspondent (and really nerdy writer) RoAnna Sylver!