Lt Commander Foster - Not Really Wandering
Jamie LeBlanc
((Town of Carinth, Raijalla Valley, Bajor))
Things they had in common: They both knew and had worked with an adorable little girl. The same little girl. Geleth, who liked pink unicorns and tribbles.
Most kids like tribbles. Except for Klingon kids.
Foster: I do too have a license. I have four, One for breeding, one for keeping, one for sterilizing and one for showing in competitions. Though I haven’t bred show tribbles in over a decade.
Emlott: Why not? ::She fell silent, realizing that this was likely feeling more like an interrogation than a conversation:: I don't know very much about them. I know they are balls with fur. I did not know there are showings.
He gave a very serious nod of assent.
Foster: Oh they do. They have some pretty vicious competitions on tribble breeding. Because while they breed easily, getting them bred in specific ways is extremely difficult.
The typical tribble was fluffy in one of a few common colors: ginger, black, grey, white and various speckled and flecked varieties.
But with some canny breeding you could get silky longhair varieties, sharp color combinations, variant fur types and even hybrid creatures.
How to get them? A lot of science in genetics and a lot of experimentation. Show tribble breeding often produced hundreds of non-show-worthy offspring which would have to be dealt with.
Tribbles were great fodder for some other species that ate them up like fuzzy bonbons. But Wyn was a softhearted sort and felt bad breeding something only to feed it to something else, looking for the one perfect show specimen. To him that felt unfair – to choose the one who lived by genes alone. It made him feel to dangerously like an evil deity playing with life and death on a large scale.
Of unintelligent fluffballs.
So, instead, he bred extremely carefully and raised for good temperament. He used his tribbles as therapy pets and thus far that had worked well for him. He still got to dabble in the genetics he enjoyed without feeling like he was ruining some harmless creatures life.
Emlott: We ... produce... :: probably not the right word to use:: large hounds. We have competitions to see which ones are the best. And hound races.
Foster: Hound races? Is that the hounds run against one another, or they are riding animals?
One could never be sure with alien species. A word that meant ‘small housepet’ on one planet could be ‘massive predator with fangs’ on another planet.
Emlott: Some breeds are large enough to ride them. Others are for guarding properties. What can Tribbles do?
Foster: They purr, they eat, they breed…. ::he shrugged:: The trilling they make has a scientifically proven calming effect on the central nervous system for most species and they are fascinating subjects in the field of genetics and breeding. But beyond that they’re sorta just soft balls of fluff.
Emlott: We have one thing like that, but they are not native to Cardassia. I think the Federation brought them. They have teeth and claws and they believe they own the house, but they also are soft.
He chuckled at that.
Foster: Cats?
Emlott: ?
He nodded a little.
Foster: Yeah, I spent some of my formative years on Earth where they are popular. Though the closest I ever got to owning one is – well, I have a tribble and cat hybrid. Which is a not especially legal combination and breeders who attempt such hybrids often do so outside the realm of Federation law.
Because often such combinations ended up in offspring that were mutated and unviable. Which was not great for any of the creatures involved.
Emlott: ?
He shook his head.
Foster: I most certainly did not breed the two together. No, once upon a time I was Chief medical officer and my assistant was a genetic researcher with questionable morals. Long story short, we were good friends but she had issues with Starfleet regulations and opted to leave Starfleet rather than face a court martial. I only saw her one time after that and she gave me a tribble-cat.
Which sounded like such an odd story, but it was also completely par for the course in Wyn Foster’s life.
Emlott: ?
Foster: So, anything you’re looking forward to while we’re here?
He didn’t know if that was a good question or a bad question considering she was a Cardassian and they were on Bajor. Then again, maybe it was just a question and he shouldn’t worry so much about it.
Emlott: ?
He shrugged.
Foster: I admit I didn’t really do my homework, so I’m kind of wandering around and doing whatever crops up. And by wandering I mean I’m sitting here and not scowling at everyone who looks my way.
Which was still and improvement from weeks past, and he would take it!
Emlott: ?
~*~
tags/tbc
~*~
Lt Commander Shar’Wyn Foster
Chief Surgeon
~Julian Beck
E239010ST0