The Trouble With Tribbing Ch 01

[This story is an affectionate homage to the late Gene Rodenberry, and to the fine cast of the original TV series "Star Trek". Nothing in this story is to be taken as representing the actual sexuality of any of the actors in real life – it's just meant to be a bit of fun. Any resemblance between characters in this story and the fictional crew of the USS Enterprise is entirely intentional, however! The Star Date and the spatio-sexual coordinates have been changed, in the interests of Art, and with the permission of Star Fleet and the Vulcan High Command. The author will enter into no correspondence with any Star-Trek enthusiasts who just want to quibble about technical details.]

Extracted items from personal log – Yeoman Janice Rand.

For what it's worth, we have been at warp 7 for four days. No sign of any Klingons, and we're too far from Romulan space to worry about them. It's been a week since any alien entity teleported aboard the Enterprise, using a technology unknown to us, and took over the minds of several expendable crew members, the entire engineering section, and the ship's computer; only to be thwarted by the Captain, who got Mr Spock, the Vulcan Science Officer, to make a spatio-temporal by-pass device out of a twentieth-century light bulb. Heck – life can be boring on a star-ship!

Today the Captain made a clumsy pass at me, which I side-stepped. I made an excuse to leave the bridge [tip: always have an aluminium-foil memo sheet in your hand if you're going to wander around the ship avoiding work – that or a tri-corder] and slipped into the turbo-lift. I found Lieutenant Uhura already in there.

"Where to, Janice?"

"Uh........ astrometrics."

"What a coincidence. That's where I'm going," she said. Then she reached for the turbo-lift controls, which were over on my side, and as she did so she leaned past me. Her uniform was stretched tight over her breasts, and I started as their tips brushed against mine. She looked up at me and smiled. I must have gone as red as a dying zeta-class super-nebula! What is happening? First the Captain, and now the Communications Officer. It must be the new perfume I picked up during our lay-over on Atarxes III.

I never realised before just how beautiful the Lieutenant is. If it comes to that, I never realised before that I appreciated her beauty. Perhaps she picked up some of the same stuff at Atarxes III. One thing's for certain – the Captain, doesn't wear it!

When we got out of the turbo-lift, I turned left.

"Astrometrics is this way," said the Lieutenant, pointing to the right. She slid her arm through mine, and propelled me in the right direction, leaning in towards me, and making us both walk slowly down the companionway. She had this way of looking up into my face, from underneath her eyelashes, which was kind of disturbing. I mean it felt as though I had a stomach full of Ecosian butterflies. As we walked, she talked. She liked my hair in its current style – it wasn't regulation, but she wouldn't tell anyone about it. What colour would I call my eyes? Blue? Blue-green? Blue-grey? Rigelian turquoise? Did I know how cute I looked when I blushed? I made an attempt to answer, but she put a finger-tip gently to my lips to silence me, and I caught a brief zing of the scent she had put on her wrist – yes, it was "Hyper-kitten", from that Zeon parfumerie in Atarxes III. I made a mental note to check our schedule, to see when we would be back there.

The life-support systems on the Enterprise maintain a constant twenty degrees Celsius, but when we walked into astrometrics, arm-in-arm, I felt as though I was on the surface of Vulcan. Our uniforms are one-piece, and close-fitting, but I wasn't supposed to be perspiring in this environment. Technically it wasn't possible. The crew members in astrometrics turned to look at us as the automatic doors opened. They looked puzzled.

"Well, Janice ............" said the Lieutenant, indicating the computer terminals, star-chart displays, and sensor-consoles, with an elegant hand gesture. I thought to myself, "She's like Elaan of Troius – she only has to let her tears fall on my skin, and I will be her slave!"

"Janice!" she repeated, with a smile that was gently mocking. "We're in astrometrics. You have some work to do here?"

"Er.... I forget. It's not important. I mean, I need my tri-corder," I stammered. "It's in my quarters. I'll go and get it."

I meant to make that an excuse to get away, but Lieutenant Uhura turned with me, reinserted her arm through mine, and we made our way back to the turbo-lift. On the way to the crew accommodation deck we had company in the lift, so nothing happened; except that the Lieutenant surreptitiously stroked my thigh with one long, ebony finger. How did I feel? Just then I didn't know quite how I felt. The attention that she was paying me, the automatic responses my body wanted to make, excited me greatly, but made me so afraid. I had never known anything like this before. But wait, hadn't something like this happened – almost happened – before? That Vulcan girl at Starfleet Academy – what was her name? T'Poo? T'Poink? I recall she had asked me to excuse her if she was being illogical, but she was going through the female equivalent of Pon Fa! Nothing actually happened, though, really........ the next day she ignored me anyhow........

My face turning bright pink, I held out against most of the Lieutenant's moves as, still arm-in-arm, we got to the door to my quarters. I put my back against the door, and folded my hands primly in front of my lap, as if making a tiny, barely adequate shield over the lowest part of my abdomen. The Lieutenant leaned casually against the bulkhead. There was a pause.

"Well?" she said.

"Huh?"

"Janice, dear, your tri-corder! We came for your tri-corder!"

"Oh....er....I'm off-duty now. There are some things I need to do. I'll get it and come back later!" I stammered.

Lieutenant Uhura smiled, caressed my cheek, and said she would see me later on in the mess room. Then, blowing me a kiss, she walked back down the corridor. No, what she did was she sashayed – she actually sashayed – down the corridor, looking back now and then, flashing me her brilliant smile. She didn't usually sashay, did she?

Once inside my quarters, I breathed in deeply, and let go my breath slowly. I relaxed. I could smell the tang of perspiration, and I could see in the full-length mirror that there were dark patches forming under my armpits – this was weird, because Starfleet uniform is supposed to wick moisture away from the human body and let it evaporate. There must be something wrong with life support's environmental control settings! But I could detect another scent, delicate, familiar, woman-specific, and when I lifted the skirt of my uniform tunic, I could see that another dark patch was forming on my pants. I was aroused. Instantly, although there was no one else in my quarters at the time, I felt acutely embarrassed.

I got a fresh uniform from the replicator, then undressed quickly and tossed my soiled one into the recycling hatch. Then I stepped into the sonic shower, and felt the warm vibrations caress my whole body, stripping away all the unwanted excretions, all the dead skin, all the residual bacteria that the ship's bio-scanners had not dealt with today. When I stepped out of the shower, I felt clean and lemon-fresh. I slipped on the new uniform – at once the molecular structure of the fabric began to attune itself to the temperature of my skin and the ambient temperature of my quarters. I felt comfortable again. But still, I reached for the minute canister bearing the Zeon pictogram for the words "Hyper-kitten", and applied some of the perfume to my wrists, behind my ears, and the back of my knees.

I had more than an hour spare, so I sat on my recliner, and must have dozed off. Suddenly I became aware that a panel on the ceiling of my quarters was beginning to vibrate – it was the service inspection cover for this batch of Yeomen's quarters, and led to a Jeffries Tube above. The retaining-rivets in each corner popped out, and fell to the deck with a clatter. The panel slid to one side, and a figure dropped lightly down. I stifled a cry, as the intruder brushed some swarf from her legs and skirt, switched off the ultra-sonic screwdriver she was carrying, and smiled at me. I said her name.

"Uhura!"

"You locked your door," she said, as if by explanation. "And I couldn't wait until meal break, just to see you with half the ship's company watching! I wanted to be alone with you, Janice. Darling."

She advanced towards me. I retreated, but only one step, because my calves came up against my bunk. She put her hands on my shoulders, and then moved one of them behind my neck, pulling me close to her. Our bellies were pressed together, our breasts tip-to-tip, and I could feel her warm breath on my face.

"You know, Janice," she said, softly. "You really are a beautiful girl. I don't know when this happened, but I think I'm in love with you!"

In reply, I could get nothing out except her name again, and suddenly it felt wonderful on my tongue.

"Uhura."

I no longer thought of her by her rank.

She kissed me. A simple touch of lips upon lips. It was the first time another woman had kissed me, and the experience was – well – exotic. It was like something from a totally different planet. She pressed her mouth gently to mine again, this time flicking the tip of her tongue between them once, twice, very briefly. I responded. I met each flick with a flick of my own, until we were exploring each other's lips and tongue with a gentle, curious, full passion.

Starfleet female uniform is one-piece, except for footwear. It opens across the back, from right shoulder-blade to left buttock, and although it might sound awkward to a civilian, a cadet in the Academy usually has mastered the knack of reaching behind and describing a diagonal with the thumbnail, within a week of her induction ceremony. But when Uhura reached behind me, and slowly drew a fingertip across my scapula, my vertebrae, and my lower back, I shivered in nothing short of ecstasy. It was as though I had never felt anything like it, and what with that, and the pressure of her belly against mine, I almost came on the spot! I felt as though I was being peeled, not undressed, as I stepped out of this uniform – only freshly taken from the replicator – and stood naked before Uhura.

She gently pushed me backwards, so that I had to sit on my bunk, and then she undressed herself, never taking her eyes off me. When she was naked, she did the oddest thing – she stepped back into her boots!

"What in the Final Frontier are you doing?" I asked.

"Pulling rank!" she said. "Lie back on that bed, Yeoman Rand, and prepare to receive orders!"

I did as I was told, and reclined on the bunk, propped up only by my elbows – I was not yet relaxed. Then, with something like a war-cry, Uhura took a running jump, and leapt into the air. She seemed for a minute to soar above my bunk, then I realised that she was going to body-slam right down on top of me! I couldn't get out of the way – I screamed and flinched! At the last moment, like a leaping cat, she landed, on hands and knees, safely straddling me, and gave out a peal of merry laughter. Everything on my bunk-side table had gone flying – tri-corder, communicator, text-display, and a stress-ball!

She looked down at me, with a smile of sheer delight, and then brought her face against mine, and we kissed. Then we simply locked bodies, twining our limbs round each other, kissing hungrily. My whole body was alive and electric everywhere she touched me, everywhere her skin came against mine. We clung to each other, then pushed apart, to allow our hands to wander over each other. We began a mad, moaning scramble over and round my bunk, exploring each other with fingers, lips, and tongue. At one point we were all-ends-up, licking each other's love-mound – I felt the tip of her tongue on my clitoris, and one of her fingers slipping inside me. Ooh! And then – eek! – the tip of another finger slipped inside my bottom! I had hold of her breasts at the time, and was making little circles around her nipples; but, in reaction to that fingertip going in, I must have pinched her, because she yelped.

She began to make a low growling in her throat, and gripped me as though we were wrestling. As she changed her position, I thought she was actually going to get me in a leg-lock, because she grabbed one of my feet and hoisted it up. But instead she slipped between my legs, so that we came close together, womanhood to womanhood, and she began to push and rub hers against mine. The friction was incredible. We were both soaking wet down there in our lower decks, from both lick and natural lubrication, so we could take that friction. I moved against her. She moved against me. Slowly and rhythmically at first, but then gradually faster, until we were jiggling frantically together. She slid one free hand along my body, and found that she could reach my breasts, and began to knead one of them.

I was practically screaming by now, because the feeling was so intense. Uhura herself was crying out in Swahili – I didn't understand a word, but they were clearly sounds of passion. Then my body simply couldn't take any more. The sensation between my legs hit warp ten, a phaser-shot stunned me, a photon torpedo went off in my head, and a Klingon War-Bird uncloaked dead ahead. Whoop! Whoop! Red Alert! Gimme an O! Gimme an R! Gimme a G! Gimme an A! Gimme an S! Gimme an M! Whadya got?

Oh my! Oh my!

I came round, to find myself cradled in Uhura's arms. She was kissing my cheek and forehead, murmuring, and singing a little lullaby – in Swahili, of course.

Later, I made my way to the mess room. When I walked in, everyone cheered! They stood up and gave me a standing ovation! What was going on? I got a tray of food from the replicator, spotted Uhura sitting at a corner table, and made my way over to her.

I passed Mr Spock's table. He looked at me and raised one eyebrow.

I passed Nurse Chappell's table. She caught me by the wrist. "Janice, where can I get some of that perfume?" she said, before she let me go.

I passed Mr Sulu's table. He rose and gave a polite, Japanese bow, but he was smiling one of his wide grins. "Janice-san," He said. "Really nice 'kai awase'!"

"What on Kronos is going on?" I asked Uhura, as I put my tray on her table and sat down opposite her. She didn't look up. Looking intently at her plate, answered very quietly.

"When we knocked all those things off your bunk-side table, the communicator got switched on!"

"No!" I gasped. I realised what that meant.

"Oh yes!" she said. "The whole thing was patched through the ship's com system! Some of the crew have even started calling it the 'come system'!"

We ate in silence. Under the table I slipped my hand into hers. She squeezed it in return.

"Oh well........" I said

"All command officers to their posts!" came a voice from the com system. "Lieutenant Uhura and Yeoman Rand to the bridge."

There was a bustle for the turbo-lifts. When we got to the bridge, Uhura went to her communications console, and I took up the Yeoman's stand, to the right of the Captain's chair. I stood at ease, hands behind my back. Technically at ease, that is. Without looking up, the Captain addressed the Ensign at the helm.

"Mr Chekhov, remind me where we're bound."

"The mining colony on the second planet of the Polygon System, Keptin."

"How long will it take us?"

"At varp seven, about a veek, Keptin."

"Six days, fourteen hours, eleven minutes, and thirty-six seconds," said Mr Spock.

"He's got a darned pocket-calculator for a brain!" grumbled the ship's doctor, but the Vulcan simply ignored the remark.

"Increase to warp nine," ordered the Captain. "That should cut a couple of days off the journey."

There was more muttering. The Engineering Officer said something about, "She'll no' take it at warp nine!" Somebody else quipped, "Yeah, but we know who would take it!" I went red, but I heard Uhura make a sotto voce reply to that quip, and the comedian shut up.

"Go to warp nine," Commanded the Captain. "When we've made our stop there, we'll return to Atarxes III. Some of the crew might benefit from some more ...... shore leave."

He smiled sideways at me. I wish he wouldn't keep doing that.

Mr Spock raised an eyebrow again. I wish HE wouldn't keep doing THAT.

I stared straight ahead. I could hear music in my head. An orchestra. A woman's voice singing, wordlessly, in high register. "Aaaah aaaahh, ah-ah-ah-ah aaaah......." Bongos.