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“...and that’s when they vomited on me,” said McCoy before diving back into his split pea soup. Spock raised an eyebrow but otherwise contributed little to the conversation, devoting his energy to his own soup.
As did Jim.
Which never happened.
Jim slowly stirred his soup, oblivious to Spock’s stare. McCoy peered at him, and for a time they observed in quiet unison. Drowsily, Jim looked up and finally noticed them. “I agree with Spock,” he said.
McCoy shifted to fully face him. “You agree with Spock?”
“And you. Both of you. You’re both right.”
“Jim, either you think it’s ethical to breed tribbles or you don’t.”
“I, uh — if they’re spayed and neutered, maybe.”
“Spock said that no studies have found a safe surgical procedure to neuter tribbles and introducing them as domesticated animals would threaten local ecosystems when they inevitably are released into the wild.”
Jim gazed at Spock with wide eyes. Spock considered the unspoken plea for 1.3 seconds before speaking. “The therapeutic effects of petting a tribble and sensing the vibrations from their purrs, as Dr. McCoy suggests, are not unique.” McCoy’s eyes flared. Somehow, in this reenactment of a debate that never happened, Spock had struck a nerve. He pressed on. “Cats possess these same qualities, and by ridding homes of vermin, they provide additional health benefits by limiting the spread of disease. Domesticated tribbles are not only a detriment to society. They have no place in it.”
“How can you be so heartless? These are living creatures! Everyone who’s alive has a place in society. Some people don’t like cats and that’s their right. Maybe they prefer tribbles. Tribbles don’t have claws. They don’t even use the damn bathroom.”
“Domesticated tribbles, doctor, are the focus of conversation.”
“We’re speaking hypotheticals here,” said Jim. “As I said, I agree with both of you—”
“Stay out of this, Jim. It’s between Spock and me.”