Epilogue

SPOCK, KIRK, AND MCCOY stood in the transporter room of Space Station K-7 and watched as Kang, Mara, and Klyndur were beamed back aboard the Kloode II. They had just concluded a formal banquet climaxing two days of protocols and ceremonies following the successful negotiations on Sherman’s planet. At the technician’s “all-clear” signal they stepped onto the pedestals, in turn, to be beamed aboard the Enterprise.

Kirk heaved a sigh of relief as he stepped down in the Enterprise transporter room, running a finger around the neck of his dress uniform. He called the bridge on the wall intercom. “Scotty, Kirk here. That diplomatic mission’s over. How’s the ship?”

“No problem here, sir,” came the Scotsman’s reply. “Uhura said to tell you there’s a small celebration in Deck Five rec room if you gentlemen ‘ud care to join them.”

“Thanks, Scotty. A nightcap might be just the ticket before we turn in. Kirk, out.” He snapped off the intercom and turned to his officers. “Spock? Bones? Care to join me?”

“Just what the doctor ordered,” McCoy replied as they headed for the turbolift. “It’s good to be back aboard. K-Seven looked as clean as a whistle, but I kept having the feeling I could still smell neoethylene everywhere I went.”

“As usual, doctor, your feelings are totally unreliable,” Spock rejoined. “Neoethylene is virtually odorless and certainly not detectable to the human senses this long after use. Perhaps your illogical fondness for those creatures has induced an ambivalence about your role in eradicating the outbreak that manifests itself as an olfactory hallucination.”

“Oh, you’re probably right, Spock,” McCoy responded affably. “It’s certainly totally illogical and emotional to let oneself get engrossed in a warm, furry little creature when all it does is make a pleasant sound, wouldn’t you say, Captain?” McCoy gave a knowing smile to Kirk who merely pantomimed his agreement.

Spock raised an eyebrow at McCoy’s uncharacteristic agreeableness and rationality. But he saw no reason to disagree with the doctor’s statement. “I believe I have pointed out in the past that I find no practical use for such a creature.”

“Yes,” McCoy went on as they approached the rec room, “you said, I believe, that you found them of no more practical use than an ermine violin.”

Their entrance was greeted by a chorus of welcome from Enterprise officers already present. In the confusion, McCoy signaled unobtrusively to Uhura who disappeared for a moment. As the hubbub subsided McCoy remarked nonchalantly, “Oh, by the way, Mr. Spock, before he left K-Seven, Cyrano Jones entrusted me with a farewell present for you.” He grinned broadly as Speck’s face took on a look almost akin to alarm.

“Surely, doctor,” Spock said with some force, “Not another tribble?”

“Of course not.” He raised his voice slightly, “Uhura, Maevlynin.” The two women entered each bearing a mahogany furred, six-legged Tsorni ngkatha. McCoy had gone to considerable efforts to arrange this surprise gift since learning of Spock’s fascination with these creatures. The look on the Vulcan’s face was ample reward but, as it turned out, McCoy also got the last word. “Instead, Mr. Spock, a pair of ermine violins!”