Note: Yes, I’ve been making attempts at Tribble “crafting” with the help of breeding charts, and so far things are going great on my Tribble farm! I did have to beam quite a few of the useless common ones into space though, poor buggers. Oh, and trying to explain why a Vulcan captain will allow something so impractical as Tribble breeding aboard her ship is hard.
Captain’s Log, Supplemental — Stardate 87922.44
It appears my communications officer has been keeping secrets from me. Lieutenant Jaime Luciana has been a good friend and loyal officer to me for years; why she felt the need to withhold information regarding her recent activities aboard the U.S.S. Taiga, I do not know. When confronted, she explained the reason for her secrecy was out of fear that I “would not understand.” While she may have been correct in that assessment, I still regard her decision to hide the truth from me as highly illogical.
It all began the other day when I found myself on Deck Three responding to yet another a complaint from Chef regarding food mysteriously disappearing from his galley. While Chef is prone to exaggeration and outright fabrication when it comes to many of his “problems”, after this visit, I must admit I had reason to believe his concerns were quite real. My suspicions and handy detective work led me to Lt. Luciana’s quarters in the early hours of the morning. I had caught her by surprise, and when confronted with the damning evidence against her, she had no choice but to reveal to me her great secret that she had been harboring since we left the Minas Korva System. It appears she has been keeping — and breeding — Tribbles in a mid-sized compartment box under her bunk.
After knowing the truth, I cannot blame the lieutenant for not being forthcoming with me. She was a true friend after all, and knew my Vulcan tendencies only too well. Indeed, I failed to see why she had an interest in the Tribbles, or understand how humans can forge such intimate bonds with lesser creatures. It truly amazes me, the things humans choose to invest their emotions in.
While my logic tells me I should have put a halt to her curious new hobby right there and then, I could not bring myself to do so. The crew has been through such taxing times with the Borg as of late, taking this little pleasure away from my esteemed communications officer would seem a trifle bit cruel. Perhaps against my better judgment, I allowed her Tribble breeding efforts to continue, and since then she has involved the entire crew in her endeavors. The overwhelming enthusiasm for her idea was a response I could never have imagined, and even the ordinarily level-headed Dr. Ronbua has taken an interest.
I should be thankful, I suppose, for the morale aboard the U.S.S. Taiga has been lifted since the Tribbles have come into our lives. I must note, however, that Commander Landsberry was quite upset earlier today when one of his overzealous assistants accidentally fed a Tribble his ten-thousand-credit bottle of Romulan ale. On the positive side, we did end up with a rare breed of Tribble, the Highison, due to that little mishap. I also must add that not all the crew are happy that these Tribble are multiplying so fruitfully aboard our starship. My science officer Lieutenant Tohuna is practically beside herself; everywhere she turns she is plagued with the loud shrieking noises the Tribble make when she is in their presence. I am grateful to that Klingon for being so patient with the fancies of her crewmates.
I suppose these tiny creatures are fascinating in their own little way. After all, they seem to serve no other purpose than to eat and breed, yet somehow they manage to endear themselves to most sentient beings. I will admit, there is something about their soft, furry exteriors and their delightful soothing purrs that just makes me feel all warm and — well, regardless, they are still meaningless.
Like I said…highly illogical.