“Quark?” (What?)


“Quark quark-quark.” (What…?)






“QUARK.” (Stop it!)

“Stop what?”

“Quark quark QUARK!” (Not you- her! Stop saying huh!! It’s stupid.)


“QUARK!” (Gaaaagghh!!)

Remind me again why I’m stuck with this carrot-head?!

(She’s a friend of his- apparently. Personally I think he finds it easier to let her use his equipment,  as it keeps up appearances and avoids the risk of any direct confrontation. She’s quiet powerful, I think. I can’t read anything from her cognitive readings*.)

That didn’t answer my question. Why can’t we leave? I’m sure we can find somewhere nicer to wait while the Doc’s working on our ride. She’s looking at me funny too, you know. I feel like an object. She might try to eat me.

(You are quite colorful now. Ned knows what they put in the sauce here, to make it stain so well…maybe arsenic. I think he’ll get upset if we leave, though. He’s quite cuddly for an iceman. And I doubt she’ll try to eat you.)

Why doesn’t she say anything then? She must know what a penguin looks like. She knows she’s annoying me. She’s waiting for me to crack, so she can call it self-defense when she chucks me into a pan full of boiled vegetables and eats me…

(She’s not going to eat you! If it annoys you that much I can ask her to stop- but don’t blame me when she says “huh”.)

Fine! I will!

“Quark quark QUARK!” (Stop picking on me, please! What’s so interesting about a talking penguin?)

“The fact that you’re a talking penguin, for one thing. And I’m not picking on you. I can start picking on you, though, if you want. I’ve never traumatized a penguin before.”

Finally. I was honestly starting to think she might be another Groot- whatever the heck that is. Its not going any better though. She sounded serious about that last bit.

“Quark quark Quark QuArk.” (Really? Isn’t there a penguin working for the mafia here? I’m sure I’ve overheard something like that recently.)

“Hmmmm…now that you mention it, I suppose I have. That was fun. But you’re rather different to the one we have in Gotham.”

“Quark QUARK quark-quar-” (You can quit threatening me, by the way. I’ve already-)

“-died once. I know.”

I try to fake it, but Nibbles flinches from the thought of it anyway. Where did that come from!? There’s no way she could genuinely know something like that! How could she? She doesn’t smell like TimeLord, more like a garden show. Kinda like Alice, actually…

…but she’s grinning. Like a shark. It’s clearly not some kind of joke. Somehow, she damn well knows.

What does she know about it? Damn, this is where I need HH! He’d know what to do. Think, Womble, think!

“For the record, I don’t think I can kill you. Which is nice. But I can quite easily make your life a living agony, should I fancy it, and your companion doesn’t know how to deal with someone like me. Sonics don’t work on trees.”

This is nuts. I don’t even know about that last part. Maybe it’s true? HH hasn’t mentioned it yet, but then he hasn’t had to deal with anything resembling a damn Ent yet either. Does this mean she’s part tree? She hides it well. Appearance-wise, she looks more like Gamora, except for the hair. Certainly more carrot than tree.

After all that’s been said in the last six minutes, though, I’m really starting to wish she’d stuck with “huh”. This woman is scary. No freakin’ wonder the Doc does his best to be friendly around her.

(She’s telling the truth.)

How do you figure that out? I thought you couldn’t read anything from her?

(I can’t. She’s telling me this. It appears I’m not the only one who can read minds here. And she wants you to stop calling her a carrot. It’s the wrong shade and the wrong tone. She’ll pluck you if you don’t.)

“Quark!!!” (Why is this guy taking so long?!)



*In order to translate the speech patterns of virtually anything willing and/or capable of producing them, Nibbles’ kind monitor the cognitive activity of their target in order to work out exactly what is meant. This allows them to register the cognitive behavior of anything within a certain vicinity, even without a verbal component, and estimate their mood and general disposition to a certain degree. Judging by the lack of readings produced by “carrot-head”, it can be implied that she has at least some method of blocking off these signals.


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