— RRW Tomal, Captain’s Office —

Commander Mneiyen s’Llhevir was not happy. He’d lead his ship, the newly launched RRW Tomal into Klingon space one time and now he was having to deal with tribbles. 

For some reason. 

The Romulan ship had been on its way to rendezvous with a Federation vessel when it had gone down and now his office of all places was filled with the cooing creatures. 

“We do not yet have a Chief Science Officer and I’m a botanist,” the Vulcan that he had called into the office to fix this had said. The woman remained stoic and Vulcan despite s’Llevir’s yelling. That was the problem with Vulcans. For all their brains you could not threaten them properly like you could a Romulan. 

“Beam them all into a sun for all I care,” he barked annoyed at this officer whose name he had not bothered to remember. 

“That is both immoral and a task for an operations or engineering officer. Again I am, and remain, a botanist,” the Vulcan said in a tone that made s’Llevir think she was doing this on purpose. 

“Why are there so many of them?”

“Do you require that I explain sexual reproduction to you?” the Vulcan asked. 

“Dismissed,” he managed to say after a few deep breaths. He had to treat the Vulcans nice. They weren’t Romulan crews and not made for the kind of torment he had come up through the ranks with. This was a kinder and gentler Romulan Navy and while he’d had many crewmates in his day evaporated by superior officers it wasn’t appropriate now. 

Commander Mneiyen s’Llhevir took another look around his office and scowled. 

The operations officer was new, and thankfully Romulan. He clearly still believed in the fearsome reputation of Commander s’Llhevir, even if it was more projection these days. He was nervous and when the Tomal‘s commander suggested beaming them into a passing sun he blanched.

“Is that allowed?” he asked, glancing at the pile of tribbles that was ever expanding. 

“They’re not Vulcans, so we don’t need to coddle them,” the Commander snapped, “Shoot them out an airlock for all I care, but get them off my ship.”

“There’s a class M planet we could beam them to,” the operations officer said. 

Commander s’Llhevir had a feeling there were several Vulcans onboard who would say something about introducing invasive species to a new world, but then they’d say something about vaporizing all of these damn tribbles.

“Do that, but don’t report it,” he said.

“Don’t report it sir?” the officer said, squeaking very much like a tribble.

“In my day we knew what not to report, and it helped us get far in the navy. Report this and I’ll see to it you don’t get farther than cleaning latrines,” the gruff Commander said.

He then left his office and the officer. Let these tribbles be someone else’s problem for a few hours. He was going to lay down, away from young officers, and worse Vulcans. If only he could beam them into a sun instead of the tribbles.