All language subtitles for 15gfr bvfds

Deep Space Station K-7
now within sensor range, captain.

Good.

Mr. Chekov, this flight is supposed to
provide experience and knowledge.

How close will we come
to the Klingon outpost

if we continue on
our present course?

Ah. One parsec, sir.
Close enough to smell them.

SPOCK:
That is illogical, ensign.

Odors cannot travel
through the vacuum of space.

- I was making a little joke, sir.
- Extremely little, ensign.

Mr. Spock, immediate
past history of the quadrant.

Under dispute between the
two parties since initial contact.

The battle of Donatu V
was fought near here

23 solar years ago.
Inconclusive.

- Analysis of disputed area.
- Undeveloped.

Sherman's Planet
is claimed by both sides,

our Federation
and the Klingon Empire.

We do have the better claim.

The area was first mapped

by the famous Russian astronomer,
Ivan Burkoff, almost 200--

- John Burke.
- Burke, sir?

I don't think so. I'm sure it was--

John Burke
was the chief astronomer

at the Royal Academy
in Old Britain at the time.

Oh, Royal Academy, oh, well.

Is the rest of your history
that faulty, ensign?

Key points of dispute.

CHEKOV: Under the terms
of the Organian Peace Treaty,

one side or the other must prove it can
develop the planet most efficiently.

And unfortunately, though the Klingons
are brutal and aggressive,

they are most efficient.

I remember once Peter the Great
had a problem like that. He--

- UHURA [OVER INTERCOM]: Captain.
- Kirk here.

Captain, I'm picking up a subspace
distress call, priority channel.

- It's from Space Station K-7.
- Go to warp factor 6.

Code 1 emergency,
that's a disaster call.

UHURA [OVER PA]: This is a red alert.
Man your battle stations. All hands.

KIRK:
Space, the final frontier.

These are the voyages
of the starship Enterprise.

Its five-year mission:
To explore strange new worlds,

to seek out new life
and new civilizations,

to boldly go where no man
has gone before.

KIRK:
Captain's log, stardate 4523.3.

Deep Space Station K-7
has issued a priority-1 call.

More than an emergency,
it signals near or total disaster.

We can only assume the Klingons
have attacked the station.

We're going in, armed for battle.

Main phasers armed and ready, sir.

But there's nothing there.

Just the station.

Priority-1 distress call.
It's just absolutely peaceful.

Lieutenant Uhura,
break subspace silence.

Aye, sir. Channel's open, sir.

Space Station K-7,
this is Captain Kirk of the Enterprise.

What is your emergency?

Captain Kirk, this is Mr. Lurry,
manager of K-7.

I must apologize
for the distress call.

Mr. Lurry, you issued
a priority-1 distress call.

State the nature
of your emergency.

LURRY: Uh... Well, perhaps
you better beam over.

I'll try to explain.

You'll try to explain?

You'd better be prepared
to do more than that. Kirk out.

Mr. Spock, I'll need your help.
Chekov, maintain battle readiness.

Lieutenant Uhura, see that
the Transporter Room is standing by.

UHURA: Aye, sir.
Transporter Room, stand by.

Mr. Lurry, if there was
no emergency,

why did you issue
a priority-1 distress call?

That was my order, captain.

Captain Kirk, this is Nilz Baris.
He's out from Earth to take charge

of the development
for Sherman's Planet.

And that gives you the authority to put
an entire quadrant on defense alert?

Mr. Baris is the Federation
undersecretary

in charge of agricultural affairs
in this quadrant.

And that gives
him the authority.

Oh.

This is my assistant, Arne Darvin.

And this is my first
officer, Mr. Spock.

Mr. Spock.

And now, captain,
I want all available security guards.

I want them posted
around the storage compartments.

Storage compartments?
Storage compartments?

The storage compartments
containing the quadrotriticale.

The what? The what?
What's quadrotriticale?

Here.

Wheat. So what?

Quadrotriticale is not wheat,
captain.

Of course, I wouldn't expect you or
Mr. Spock to know about such things,

but, uh, quadrotriticale
is a rather--

Quadrotriticale
is a high-yield grain,

a four-lobed hybrid
of wheat and rye.

A perennial, also,
if I'm not mistaken.

Its root grain, triticale,
can trace its ancestry

all the way back
to 20th-century Canada, where--

Mr. Spock,
you've made your point.

Quadrotriticale is the only Earth grain
that will grow on Sherman's Planet.

Now, we have several tons of it
here on the station,

and it's very important that that grain
get to Sherman's Planet safely.

Mr. Baris thinks that Klingon agents
may try to sabotage it.

You issued a priority-1 distress call
for a couple of tons of wheat?

Quadrotriticale.

Of course, captain,
I realize that we--

Mr. Baris, you summoned
the Enterprise without an emergency.

- You'll take full responsibility for it.
- BARIS: What do you mean?

Misuse of the priority-1 channel
is a Federation offense.

I did not misuse
the priority-1 channel.

I want that grain protected.

Captain, couldn't you at least
post a couple of guards?

We do have a large number
of ships passing through.

It would seem a logical
precaution, captain.

The Sherman's Planet affair is of
extreme importance to the Federation.

- Kirk to Enterprise.
- UHURA: Enterprise here.

Secure from general quarters...

...and, uh, beam down two,
and only two, security guards.

Have them report to Mr. Lurry.

Authorize shore leave
for all off-duty personnel.

- UHURA: Yes, captain.
- Kirk out.

Captain Kirk, how dare you
authorize a mere two men

for a project of this importance!

Starfleet Command
will hear about this--

I have never questioned
the orders or the intelligence

of any representative
of the Federation.

Until now.

KIRK: Summoning a starship
on a priority A-1 channel

to guard some
storage compartments.

Storage compartments of wheat.

Nevertheless, captain, the Klingons
would not enjoy seeing us

successfully develop
Sherman's Planet.

I guess not.

I see you didn't waste any time
taking your shore leave.

And how often
do I get shore leave?

She wants to shop,
and I thought I would help her.

Oh. Excuse me. Excuse me.

Mr. Chekov,
what do you make of this?

Oh, quadrotriticale.

I've read about this,
but, uh, I've never seen any before.

Does everybody know
about this wheat but me?

Well, not everyone, captain.
It's a Russian invention.

Oh.

MAN: I don't want any, I told you
before, and I'm telling you again.

I don't want any more
Spican flame gems.

Thanks to you, I already have
enough Spican flame gems

- to last me a lifetime.
- How sad for you, my friend.

You won't find a finer stone anywhere.
But I have something better.

Surely you want some...

...Antarian glow water.

- Ha-ha-ha.
- I use that to polish the flame gems.

JONES:
You're a difficult man to reach.

But I have something
from the far reaches of the galaxy.

- Surely you want--
- Not at your price.

Oh, what is it? Is it alive?

May I hold it?

Oh, it's adorable.

[TRIBBLE PURRING]

- What is it?
- What is it?

Why, lovely lady, it's a tribble.

A tribble?

Only the sweetest creature
known to man.

Excepting, of course,
your lovely self.

[LAUGHS]

Oh, it's purring.

Listen, it's purring.

It's only saying that it likes you.

Are you selling them?

That's what we're
trying to decide right now.

My friend, 10 credits apiece
is a very reasonable price.

Now, you can see for yourself

how much the lovely little lady
appreciates the finer things.

- One credit apiece.
- He won't bite, will he?

Sir, transporting harmful animals
from one planet to another

is against regulations,
or weren't you aware of that?

Besides, tribbles have no teeth.

All right, I'll double my offer.
Two credits.

Twice nothing is still nothing.

Well, if you're not gonna take him,
I'm gonna take him. I think he's cute.

- Four credits.
- Is that an offer or a joke?

- That's my offer.
- That's a joke.

Five.

I can see you're an honest man.
I'll tell you what I'm going to do.

I'm going to lessen my price
to 8 and a half credits.

[CHUCKLING]

You're talking yourself
out of a deal, friend.

- Six credits, not a credit more.
- Seven and a half.

Seven?

All right, you robber, 6 credits.

- Done. When can I have them?
- Right away.

All right, what are you
selling them for?

Well, let me see, little lady.
It's 6 credits.

I figure a reasonable mark-up
for a reasonable profit,

say, a 10 percent mark-up.
Uh, 10 credits.

- Thief.
- In fact, I'll sell you this one.

Hey! He's eating my grain.

That'll be 10 credits.

That happens to be my sample,
and I'll do with it as I please.

And I please to give it
to the lovely little lady here.

- Oh, I couldn't, could I?
- I insist.

What are you trying to do,
ruin the market?

Once this lovely little lady starts to
show this precious little darling around,

you won't be able
to keep up with them.

[TRIBBLE PURRING]

[INTERCOM WHISTLES]

Yes, what is it?

UHURA: Message from Starfleet,
captain, priority channel.

- Admiral Fitzpatrick speaking.
- Put it on visual, lieutenant.

- Captain Kirk.
- Kirk here.

Captain, it is not necessary
to remind you

of the importance to the Federation
of Sherman's Planet.

The key to our winning of this planet
is the grain, quadrotriticale.

The shipment of it
must be protected.

Effective immediately, you will render
any aid and assistance

which Undersecretary Baris
may require.

The safety of the grain and the project
is your responsibility.

Starfleet out.

Well, that's just lovely.

But not totally unexpected.

[KIRK SIGHS
THEN INTERCOM WHISTLES]

- UHURA: Captain Kirk. Captain Kirk.
- Yes, lieutenant, what is it?

Sensors are picking up
a Klingon battle cruiser

rapidly closing on the station.

Go to red alert, notify Mr. Lurry,
we'll be right up.

[ALARM SOUNDING]

What is the position
of the Klingon ship?

A hundred kilometers off K-7.
It's just sitting there.

- Captain, I have Mr. Lurry.
- Put him on visual.

Aye, sir.

Mr. Lurry, there's a Klingon warship
hanging 100 kilometers off your station.

I don't think the Klingons
are planning to attack us.

Why not?

Because at this moment,
the captain of the Klingon ship

is sitting right here in my office.

Cancel red alert.
We'll beam right down.

UHURA:
Security, cancel red alert.

KIRK:
Captain's log, stardate 4524.2.

A Klingon warship is hovering
only 100 kilometers

from Deep Space Station K-7

while its captain waits
in the station manager's office.

Their intentions are unknown.

- Ah, my dear Captain Kirk.
- My dear Captain Koloth.

Let me assure you
that my intentions are peaceful.

As I've already told Mr. Lurry,

the purpose of my presence here
is to invoke shore-leave rights.

Shore leave?

Captain, we Klingons are not
as luxury-minded as you Earthers.

We do not equip our ships with,
how shall I say it?

Non-essentials.

We have been in space
for five months,

and what we choose as recreation
is our own business.

I might also add that under the terms
of the Organian Peace Treaty,

you cannot refuse us.

Yes, well, I don't make
those decisions.

Mr. Lurry is in charge
of those matters.

Captain, may I speak to you
a minute?

Kirk, I don't want them here,
but I don't have the authority to refuse.

Hmm. Well, I have the authority to act,
and I'm gonna use it.

My dear Captain Koloth,

you may indeed bring your men
down on shore leave.

But only 12 at a time,

and I assure you that for every man
you bring down here,

I shall have one security guard.
There'll be no trouble.

[LAUGHING]

Captain Kirk, there's been
no formal declaration of hostilities

between our two
respective governments.

So naturally, our relationship
will be a peaceful one.

Let us both take steps
to keep it that way.

Of course.

- Another technical journal, Scotty?
- Aye.

- Don't you ever relax?
- I am relaxing.

[TRIBBLES PURRING]

How long have you had that thing,
lieutenant?

UHURA:
Since yesterday, doctor.

This morning I found out that he--
I mean, she had had babies.

McCOY: Well, I'd say in that case
you got a bargain.

- You running a nursery, lieutenant?
- Oh, captain.

Well, I hadn't intended to, sir,
but the tribble had other plans.

Did you get this
at the space station?

Yes, sir.

A most curious creature, captain.

Its trilling seems to have
a tranquillizing effect

on the human nervous system.

Fortunately, of course,
I am immune to its effect.

Do you mind if I take one of these
to the lab to see what makes it tick?

Well, all right, doctor,
but if you're gonna dissect it,

I don't want to know about it.

I won't harm a hair on its head,
wherever that is.

[LAUGHING]

Say, lieutenant, seeing as you're
giving them away, can I have one?

Sure, why not?
I think they're old enough.

Go ahead.

[INTERCOM WHISTLES]

CHEKOV [OVER INTERCOM]:
Bridge to Captain Kirk.

Kirk here.

Mr. Baris is waiting on channel A
to speak to you, sir.

Pipe it down here,
will you, Mr. Chekov?

Aye, sir. Mr. Baris is coming on.

Yes, Mr. Baris,
what can I do for you?

Kirk, this station
is swarming with Klingons.

I was not aware, Mr. Baris,
that 12 Klingons constitutes a swarm.

Captain Kirk, there are
Klingon soldiers on this station.

Now, I want you
to keep that grain safe.

Mr. Baris, I have guards
around the grain,

I have guards around the Klingons.

The only reason those guards are there
is because Starfleet wants them there.

As for what you want...

...it has been noted and logged.
Kirk out.

Captain, may I ask where you'll be?

Sickbay, with a headache.

Hi, Jim.

Bones, what have you got
for a headache?

Let me guess, the Klingons. Baris.

Both.

Hey, how many of these
did Uhura give you?

- Just one.
- But you've got, uh, 11.

You noticed that, huh?

Here, this ought to take care of it.

How do they...? How do they...?

I, uh...
I haven't figured that out yet.

But I can tell you this much.

Almost 50 percent of the creature's
metabolism is geared for reproduction.

Do you know what you get
if you feed a tribble too much?

A fat tribble.

No, you get a whole bunch
of hungry little tribbles.

Well, Bones, all I can suggest...

...is you open up a maternity ward.

I want all you men who are going
on shore leave to stay in groups.

- Avoid trouble with the Klingons.
- I'll tell them before they go, sir.

Aren't you going
on shore leave, Scotty?

Oh, no, sir.

I want you to
go on shore leave.

Make sure that everybody
stays out of trouble.

But, captain...

Aye, sir.

Scotty, enjoy yourself.

[CHATTERING]

[WHISTLING]

[LAUGHS]

Ah, friend, can I offer you
a charming little tribble?

Uh, no, thanks.

Ah. Perhaps one
of you other gents?

Eh. Hmm.

Ah. Friend Klingon!

[TRIBBLE SQUEAKS]

Can I interest you
in a harmless little tribble?

Get it away from me.

I'm sorry, I can't understand it.

I've never seen them
act this way before.

Get out of here with that parasite.

- He's only a harmless little--
- Take it away!

Yes.

Ah, my good friend!

How would you like to enter
another little transaction?

- This time, a tribble for a spot of--
- A tribble?

Tribble?

Tribble.

[TRIBBLES PURRING]

When are you going to get off
that milk diet, lad?

This is vodka.

Where I come from, that's soda pop.
Now, this is a drink for a man.

- Scotch?
- Aye.

It was invented by
a little old lady from Leningrad.

[CHUCKLES]

[TRIBBLES SQUEAKING]

The Earthers like those fuzzy things,
don't they?

Why, yes.

Well, frankly, I never liked Earthers.

They remind me
of Regulan blood worms.

[KLINGONS LAUGHING]

- That Cossack.
- SCOTTY: Easy, lad.

You ought to be more forgiving.

Oh.

I just remembered.

There is one Earth man who doesn't
remind me of a Regulan blood worm.

That's Kirk.

A Regulan blood worm is soft
and shapeless.

But Kirk isn't soft.

Kirk may be a swaggering,
overbearing,

tin-plated dictator
with delusions of godhood...

...but he's not soft.

Take it easy, lad.

Everybody's entitled to an opinion.

That's right.

And if I think that Kirk

is a Denebian slime devil,

well, that's my opinion too.

Don't do it, mister,
and that's an order.

But you heard
what he called the captain.

Forget it. It's not worth fighting for.

We're big enough
to take a few insults.

Now drink your drink.

Of course, I'd say that Captain Kirk
deserves his ship.

We like the Enterprise.

We really do.

That sagging old rust bucket
is designed like a garbage scow.

Half the quadrant knows it.

That's why they're learning
to speak Klingonee!

[KLINGON LAUGHING]

Mr. Scott.

Laddie, don't you think
you should rephrase that?

You're right, I should.

I didn't mean to say that the Enterprise
should be hauling garbage.

I meant to say that it should be
hauled away as garbage.

[KLINGON LAUGHING]

KIRK:
Captain's log, stardate 4525.6.

A small disturbance
between the Klingon crew

and members of
the Enterprise crew

has broken out
aboard Space Station K-7.

I am forced to cancel
shore leave for both ships.

I want to know who started it.
I'm waiting.

Freeman, who started the fight?

- I don't know, sir.
- All right.

Chekov.

I know you.
You started it, didn't you?

- No, sir, I didn't.
- Well, who did?

- I don't know, sir.
- "I don't know, sir."

I want to know
who threw the first punch.

You're all confined to quarters
until I find out who started it.

Dismissed.

Scotty, not you.

You were supposed to
prevent trouble, Mr. Scott.

Aye, captain.

Who threw the first punch, Scotty?

Um...

Scotty?

- I did, captain.
- You did, Mr. Scott?

What caused it, Scotty?

They insulted us, sir.

- Must have been some insult.
- Aye, it was.

You threw the first punch.

Aye.

Chekov wanted to,
but I held him back.

You held--?

Why did Chekov
want to start a fight?

Um...

Well, the Klingons...
Is this off the record?

No, this is not off the record.

Well, captain, uh,
Klingons called you, uh...

...a tin-plated, overbearing,
swaggering dictator

- with delusions of godhood.
- Is that all?

No, sir, they also compared you
with a Denebian slime devil.

- I see.
- And then they said that--

- I get the picture, Scotty.
- Yes, sir.

And after they said all this,
that's when you hit the Klingons?

- No, sir.
- No?

No, I didn't.

You told us to avoid trouble.

Oh, yes.

And I didn't see
that it was worth fighting about.

After all, we're big enough
to take a few insults.

Aren't we?

What was it they said
that started the fight?

They called the Enterprise
a garbage scow!

Sir.

I see.

And that's when you hit the Klingon.

Yes, sir.

You hit the Klingons
because they insulted the Enterprise,

not because they...?

Well, sir, this was a matter of pride.

All right, Scotty. Dismissed.

Oh.

Scotty, you're restricted to quarters
until further notice.

Yes, sir.

Thank you, sir.

That'll give me a chance to catch up
on my technical journals.

What's the matter, Spock?

There's something disquieting
about these creatures.

Oh? Don't tell me
you've got a feeling.

Don't be insulting, doctor.

They remind me
of the lilies of the field.

"They toil not, neither do they spin."
But they seem to eat a great deal.

I see no practical use for them.

Does everything have to have
a practical use for you?

They're nice, they're soft,
and they're furry,

and they make a pleasant sound.

So would an ermine violin, doctor,
but I see no advantage in having one.

It is a human characteristic
to love little animals,

especially if they're attractive
in some way.

Doctor, I am well aware
of human characteristics,

I am frequently inundated by them,

but I have trained myself to put up
with practically anything.

Spock, I don't know too much
about these little tribbles yet,

but there is one thing
that I have discovered.

- What is that, doctor?
- I like them.

Better than I like you.

- Doctor.
- Yes?

They do, indeed,
have one redeeming characteristic.

- What's that?
- They do not talk too much.

If you'll excuse me, sir.

[TRIBBLE SQUEAKS]

Dr. McCoy, would you mind
coming up to the Bridge?

[TRIBBLES PURRING
AND CHITTERING]

Lieutenant Uhura, how did
all these tribbles get on the Bridge?

I don't know, sir.
They do seem to be all over the ship.

- Dr. McCoy.
- Yes? Did you want to see me, Jim?

Well, don't look at me,
it's the tribbles who are breeding.

And if we don't get them off this ship,
we'll be hip deep in them.

Would you explain that?

Well, the nearest thing I can figure out
is that they're born pregnant.

Which seems to be
quite a time saver.

I know, but really...

And from my observations,

it seems they're bisexual,
reproducing at will.

And, brother,
have they got a lot of will.

Captain, I am forced to agree
with the doctor.

I've been running computations
on their rate of reproduction.

The figures are taking
an alarming direction.

They are consuming our supplies
and returning nothing.

But they do give us something,
Mr. Spock, they give us love.

Well, Cyrano Jones says that a tribble
is the only love that money can buy.

Too much of anything,
lieutenant, even love,

isn't necessarily a good thing.

Yes, captain.

Get a maintenance crew
to clean up the entire ship.

And then contact Mr. Lurry
and tell him I'm beaming down.

Aye, aye, sir.

Have him find Cyrano Jones
and hold him.

And get these tribbles off the Bridge.

UHURA:
Aye, aye, captain.

Captain Kirk,
I'm mystified at your tone of voice.

I've done nothing to warrant
such severe treatment.

Oh, really?

Surely you must have realized
what would happen

if you removed the tribbles
from their predator-filled environment

into an environment where
their natural multiplicative proclivities

would have no restraining factors.

Well, of cour-- What did you say?

By removing the tribbles
from their natural habitat,

you have, so to speak,
removed the cork from the bottle

and allowed the genie to escape.

Well, if by that you mean,
do they breed quickly?

Well, of course,
that's how I maintain my stock.

But breeding animals
is not against regulations,

only breeding dangerous ones.

- And tribbles are not dangerous.
- Just incredibly prolific.

Precisely.
And at 6 credits a head--

Uh, well, that is, a body.
--It mounts up.

Now, if you'll excuse me.

You ought to sell an instruction and
maintenance manual with this thing.

If I did, what would happen
to man's search for knowledge?

Well, I must be tending my ship.

[SPEAKS IN FRENCH]

Go ahead, sir, tell him.

Captain Kirk, I consider
your security measures a disgrace.

In my opinion, you have taken this
entire very important project too lightly.

On the contrary, sir,
I think of this project as very important.

It is you I take lightly.

I am going to report fully,
to the proper authorities,

that you have given free
and complete access to this station

to a man who is quite probably
a Klingon agent.

That's a very serious charge.
To whom are you referring?

To that man
who just walked out of here.

Cyrano Jones?
A Klingon agent? Ha, ha.

- You heard me.
- I heard you.

He simply could not believe his ears.

KIRK: What evidence do you have
against Mr. Jones?

My assistant here
has kept Mr. Jones

under close surveillance
for quite some time,

and his actions
have been most suspicious.

I believe he was involved in that little
altercation between your men--

Yes, yes, go on.
What else do you have?

Well, captain,
I checked his ship's log

and it seems that he was within
the Klingons' sphere of influence

less than four months ago.

The man is an independent scout,
captain.

It's quite possible
that he is also a Klingon spy.

We have already checked on
the background of Mr. Cyrano Jones.

He is a licensed asteroid locator
and prospector.

He's never broken the law,
at least not severely,

and for the past seven years,
with his one-man spaceship,

he has obtained a marginal living
by engaging in the buying and selling

of rare merchandize,
including, unfortunately, tribbles.

- But he is after my grain!
- Do you have any proof of that?

You can't deny
he's disrupted this station.

People have disrupted stations before
without being Klingon agents.

Sometimes all they need is a title,
Mr. Baris.

Unfortunately, disrupting
a space station is not an offense.

Now, if you'll excuse me,
I have a ship to tend to.

[SPEAKS IN FRENCH]

My chicken sandwich and coffee.

This is my chicken sandwich
and coffee.

Fascinating.

I want these things off the ship.

I don't care if it takes every man,
I want them off the ship.

Aye, they're into the machinery,
all right.

And they're probably
in all the other food processors too.

- How?
- Probably through one of the air vents.

Captain, there are vents of that type
on the space station.

And in the storage compartments.

This is Kirk.
Contact Manager Lurry and Nilz Baris.

Have them meet us near the storage
compartments. We're beaming down.

Come on, Spock.

Energize.

LURRY:
What's wrong?

Plenty, if what I think happened
has happened.

- Guard, is that door secure?
- Yes, sir, nothing could get in.

Good. Uh, open it.

[DOOR LOCK BEEPS]

It's not working, sir.
It seems to be stuck.

Here, let me try.

[DOOR LOCK BEEPING]

[PURRING]

They seem to be gorged.

Gorged? On my grain?

Kirk, I am going to
hold you responsible.

- There must be thousands of them.
- Hundreds of thousands.

1,771,561.

That's assuming one tribble,
multiplying with an average litter of ten,

producing a new generation every
12 hours, over a period of three days.

And that's assuming that they
got here three days ago.

And allowing for the amount
of grain consumed

and the volume
of the storage compartment.

Kirk, you should have known!

You are responsible for turning
the development project

into a total disaster!

- Mr. Baris--
- And I am through being intimidated.

Now, you have insulted me,
you have ignored me,

you've walked all over me!

You have abused your authority,
and you have rejected my requests.

And this! This is the result.

I am going to hold you
responsible, Kirk.

Mr. Baris, I'll hold you in irons
if you don't shut up.

Jim, I think I've got it.

All we have to do
is quit feeding them.

We quit feeding them,
they stop breeding.

Now he tells me.

Captain, this tribble is dead.

And so are these.

[TRICORDER WHIRRING]

A lot of them are dead.

A lot of them are alive,
but they won't be for long.

A logical assumption is
that there is something in the grain.

Yes. Bones, I want the tribbles,
the grain, everything analyzed.

I wanna know
what killed these tribbles.

I haven't figured out
what keeps them alive yet.

All right, if I find out anything,
I'll let you know.

That isn't gonna do you
any good, Kirk.

This project is ruined,
and Starfleet is gonna hear about it.

And when they do,
they will have a board of inquiry

and they will roast you alive.

And I am gonna be there, Kirk,
to enjoy every minute of it.

Until that board of inquiry,
I'm still the captain.

And as captain,
I want two things done.

First, find Cyrano Jones,
and second...

...close that door.

Really, Captain Kirk,
I must protest this treatment!

Mr. Jones, with an armful.

- A few questions.
- KOLOTH: Captain Kirk!

Yes, what do you want?

An official apology, addressed
to the Klingon High Command.

I expect you to assume
full responsibility

for the persecution of
Klingon nationals in this quadrant.

An apology?

Yes. You've harassed my men.
You've treated them like criminals.

You've been most uncourteous,
Captain Kirk.

Now, if you wish to avoid
a diplomatic incident--

No, Kirk, you can't let him.

That will give them the wedge
they need to claim Sherman's Planet.

I believe that more than the word
of an aggrieved Klingon commander

would be necessary for that,
Mr. Baris.

Mr. Spock, as far as
Sherman's Planet is concerned,

Captain Kirk has already
given it to us.

Well, we'll see about that.

But before I take any official action,
I'd like to know just what happened.

Who put the tribbles
in the quadrotriticale,

and what was in the grain
that killed them?

Captain Kirk, before you go on,
may I make a request?

Yes.

Can you get those things
out of here?

[TRIBBLES SQUEAKING]

- Remarkable.
- KIRK: Hold on a minute.

I thought you said
tribbles liked everybody.

Well, they do. I can't understand it.

The last time I saw one
act this way was at the bar.

- What was in the bar?
- Klingons. Him, for one.

[TRIBBLES SQUEAKING]

You're right, Mr. Jones.
They don't like Klingons.

But they do like Vulcans.

Why, Mr. Spock,
I didn't know you had it in you.

Obviously, tribbles are
very perceptive creatures, captain.

Obviously.

Mr. Baris, they like you.

Well, there's no
accounting for taste.

[SQUEAKING]

They don't like you, Mr. Darvin.
I wonder why.

Bones?

[TRICORDER WHIRRING]

Heartbeat is all wrong.

His body temperature is...

Jim, this man is a Klingon.

A Klingon?

I wonder what Starfleet Command
will say about that.

What about the grain, Bones?

- Oh, yes. It was poisoned.
- Poisoned?

Yes, it's been impregnated
with a virus.

The virus turns into an inert material
in the bloodstream,

and the more the organism eats,
the more inert matter is built up.

So after two or three days
it would reach a point

where they couldn't take in
enough nourishment to survive.

They starved to death.

In a storage compartment full of grain,
they starved to death.

That is essentially it.

[SQUEAKING]

Mr. Darvin, you want to talk?

I have nothing to say.

All right! I poisoned the grain,
take them away.

- The tribbles had nothing to do with it?
- I don't know, I never saw one before,

and I hope I never see one of
those fuzzy, miserable things again.

I'm certain that can
be arranged, Darvin.

Guards.

If you'll excuse me, captain.

Captain Koloth, about that apology.

Yes?

You have six hours to get your ship
out of Federation territory.

[SQUEAKING]

Hey, you know,
I think I could learn to like tribbles.

Well, captain,
I suppose I'm free to go now.

No, you're not.
There's something I want to show you.

Do you know what the penalty is

for transporting an animal
proven harmful to human life?

[JONES LAUGHS]

Captain, one little tribble
isn't harmful.

Captain, you wouldn't do a thing
like that to me, now, would you?

Would you?

The penalty is 20 years
in a rehabilitation colony.

Captain Kirk-- Friend! Friend Kirk.

Surely we can come to some sort
of mutual understanding.

After all, my tribbles did put you wise
to the poisoned grain,

and they did help you
to find the Klingon agent.

We saved a lot of lives that way.
Hmm?

- There is one thing you can do.
- Yes.

Pick up every tribble
on the space station.

If you do that, I'll speak to Mr. Lurry
about returning your spaceship.

It would take years.

Seventeen-point-nine, to be exact.

Seventeen-point-nine years?

Consider it job security.

Captain, you're a hard man.
All right, all right!

- You'll do it?
- He'll do it.

I'll do it.

Captain, Starfleet was able to divert
that freighter.

Good, that means Sherman's Planet
will get its quadrotriticale

only a few weeks late.

I don't see any tribbles around here.

And you won't find a tribble
on this entire ship.

Bones, how'd you do that?

Well, I cannot take credit
for another man's work.

- Scotty did it.
- KIRK: Scotty!

Where are the tribbles?

Oh, uh, captain, it was really
Mr. Spock's recommendation.

Of course. Spock?

Based on computer analysis,
of course,

taking into account
the possibilities of--

Gentlemen, I don't want to interrupt
this mutual-admiration society,

but I'd like to know
where the tribbles are.

Tell him, Spock.

Well, it was Mr. Scott who performed
the actual engineering.

Mr. Scott.

Where are the tribbles?

I used the transporter, captain.

- You used the transporter?
- Aye.

Well, where did you transport them?

Scott, you didn't transport them
into space, did you?

Captain Kirk,
that would be inhuman!

- Well, where are they?
- I gave them a very good home.

- Where?
- I gave them to the Klingons, sir.

- You gave them to the Klingons?
- Aye, sir.

Before they went into warp,

I transported the whole
kit and caboodle to their Engine Room,

where they'll be no tribble at all.