Captain's Log, Stardate... oh, fuck it.
This is First Officer Maes Hughes speaking, and let me tell you, I am not happy about all that shit that's been happening on board of 'Flamel'. Well, maybe I was happy with some of that shit. Not with all of it. Ugh.
Let me start anew; this is going to be a long story, and I won't let it be forgotten. Mostly for the sake of those who'll try to figure out why we all died such a stupid pointless death.
So. The Problem, with a capital P, started earlier. About a week ago, I'd say... Captain, of course, would disagree. He's quite convinced now that the Problem started about twenty to twenty three years ago, on that unhappy day when Ms. Elric and her whatever he is decided it would be a splendid idea to give birth to their love child. And so their child was conceived, and carried, and born, and I think most members of the crew will agree that said child and his evil twin (evil enough to be born a full year later so we'd believe he's just a sibling and Not an evil twin) are, in fact, The Problem.
I do not agree with them. Just for the record. The boys are adorable, and seeing Ed pining over the Captain is hilarious, especially when he thinks that nobody can see him or hear him sign.
Now, back to the story. The evil twin started it; luckily for him, me and Hawkeye are the only ones who are aware of that. She knows, because she is, well, Hawkeye; this means that the evil twin confessed prior to misbehaving, minding his previous experience with misbehaving without warning her first. I know, because I caught him in the act of misbehaving; to answer your possible question - I didn't stop him, because I feel like the evilness of the evil twin is often forgotten, and because I had much more interesting (and safer) things to do than to anger an alchemist.
Again, I get distracted. That is precisely the reason why it's usually Captain who records the log (and also because it's his log and not mine). The situation itself can be described in just one sentence: Alphonse Elric (the evil twin) smuggled tribbles aboard.
I repeat. The evil twin, being himself, brought the motherfucking tribbles aboard. His only excuse was 'They are fluffy, cute, and there's just one of them. Okay, there's two. But that's it! I will watch them so they won't reproduce!'
I love Elrics, and I love their naivety, but holy shit, did anyone ever tell them why the whole Starfleet hates tribbles with such passion? Apparently, nobody did. That little piece of useful info (the only useful info you should actually know when you are going on a space mission) somehow slipped from the manuals, textbooks, etc.
The smuggling incident happened about a week ago, hence my estimation of when The Problem started. I almost let it be forgotten; the Elrics are talented alchemists, which is much, much worse than non-talented ones, and I foolishly hoped that Alphonse will, indeed, make good on his promise; he is a very dedicated researcher who, when facing an opportunity, dives head first into it. So I thought - maybe he'll invent a way to stop tribbles from reproducing? Or he'll figure out how to control their population? Only hoping, so I could give Elisia a tribble to play with and not be brutally murdered by Gracia who has to deal with the consequences planetside after I leave again. These things are fluffy and friendly, a perfect companion for a kid.
As you've already guessed, Alphonse didn't figure out shit. Tribbles reproduced. Somehow they managed to hide from the crew for at least five days, but on day six the presence of tribbles was discovered: unlucky Ensign Falman stepped on a tribble and became the first person ever that got bitten by one. I didn't even know the fuckers had teeth. Or maybe normally they don't, but the ones who'd been at the evil twin's mercy have developed the ability to protect themselves from the predators.
Ensign Falman is hardly a predator though. He's even more harmless than a tribble, and in an one-on-one fight I would not put my money on the Ensign. No offence; he's great at whatever he does, but attack and defence aren't his strongest suit. Vulcan blood be damned, he says, but I have seen Vulcans fight, so I do not trust him on this.
That was day six; on day seven we realised how many tribbles are on board, and we had to come up with a plan. Burning tribbles down was sure fun, but the smell of burned fur was not; so eventually even Captain Mustang gave up.
The plan was Captain's idea. Which is quite surprising, considering the fact that is a very Ed kind of plan; they must have come up with it simultaneously, or together in a situation Ed is too ashamed of to tell me. Poor boy is convinced I don't know how he feels about the Captain, and that if I do know, then I do not approve. It's actually the opposite: he's head over heels in love, and since I'm aware of Captain's feelings as well, thanks to our mental bond, I am more than okay to let them get some action. I even go as far as straight-up advise them to get some action finally and stop being so damn annoying, but who ever listens to good advice? Certainly not these two.
The plan was devilish. Evil enough for the evil twin, but offered in good faith and with noble intentions; that's the difference between the Elrics, one fucks things up to make a change, and the other fucks things up out of sheer curiosity, just to see what happens. Fucking alchemists; Captain is no better, but luckily for us, he's too busy unfucking things after these two.
What they needed to do, was to contain the tribbles. Achieved by some clever alchemy, food traps and x-ray scans to see if we forgot some tribbles hidden in the ventilation. Spoiler alert: we did it. Bit, scratched, covered in fur, but we achieved it, and all casualties were reported to sickbay in due time, much to Dr. Knox's disgust. The man hates his work with passion; that's why he's so damn good in it.
Thus we have completed step one. Step two has just finished, and it's... well, it's a masterpiece. Our engineering took it as a challenge, and I am proud to announce that if Winry Rockbell survives the aftermath, she is getting promoted.
What she did, was to hack ASS 'Briggs' transportation system without alarming anybody on board; mostly because alarming 'Briggs' in any way usually results in huge overreaction and possibly a destruction of a planet or two. Admiral Armstrong has quite a temper, and her weaponry is one of the finest in our quadrant; she's not the person you'd like to make angry. But, well, essentially, that's what we did.
Ahh, screw it. I was trying to create some suspense to make our imminent death more interesting, but I got tired of tiptoeing around that, so I am just going to spill it out. We beamed all the tribbles aboard of 'Briggs'. About half an hour ago. I am making the log now, because Captain is yelling and being yelled at by Zolf J. Kimblee, 'Briggs's head alchemist, aka his very own evil twin. If I haven't seen their birth certificates, I would never believe it, and even now that information isn't widely known; but these two are brothers, and if you pay a little bit more attention, then you can see it bright as day.
Anyway. I have listened to their so called talk for about five minutes, and my conclusion is: Zolf is now equally excited about tribbles (also known as 'targets to destroy') and the fact that his brother is about to be brutally murdered by his CO, because there is no way that Admiral Armstrong lets it slide.
At least he promised to give us a warning when she realises that tribbles are aboard, and to send us (in case we survive her wrath) a security record of her face on the exact moment when she realises what's happening and who is to blame. I put no hope in the thought that Zolf may wish to protect us by denying that we did it; he's an evil twin, the kind who fucks things up for fun, and trusting him is a naive move. Exactly that kind of move our captain would do, bless his soul.
Anyway. Long story short: first Al fucked us up by bringing in the tribbles, then we, in absence of a better solution, fucked up 'Briggs' crew. And, unlike Al, we are likely to suffer consequences. I merely hope that this recording will reach Amestris to tell my Elisia of her father's fate, and that Starfleet finally adds fucking tribbles to its fucking manuals.
Also, fuck alchemists.