The pictures come from:

http://cartoons.sev.com.au/

If you want access to their archived stuff, you have to pay for the privilege. (It's somewhere around $11US a year, not sure about £ coz they don't say! )

If you don't wanna pay, then they have a free "on this day" page that they obviously update everyday with cartoons they made on the same day in previous years.

http://cartoons.sev.com.au/onthisday.php

You can sign up to the site without actually paying for the cartoons, (But you still can't access their archived stuff) if you want to participate in the weekly competitions - they get people to come up with the catch phrase for a new random cartoon, so if you like the cartoons, there's an added incentive for signing up.

They have several different series of cartoons, not just Star Trek ones. The main scifi/fantasy ones are:

Sev Trek, Sev Wars, Fraud of the Rings, Sevylon 5, Hairy Plopper, Bluffy the Vamped Up Stunner, Sevmen, Sevtrix, Sevgate, Sevscape, Hairgel, Alluringlass, Dr Whatshisname, Spandexman, Sev Files, Sev Dwarf, Sevlien, Blade Runner, Battlesev Galaxative, Indiana Jones, and Shameless Bombed.

If you wanna read the alternative names for each of the characters in the cartoon series, go here:

http://cartoons.sev.com.au/sevnames.php

Trust me when I say they're a good laugh!

lol hope you dont mind me putting that up lol MOE

Should be chinese theme i have given up trying to stop you murders! lol though a BBQ tribble buger has a catchy ring to it lol

Heres a deleted scene from trials and tribulations focusing on the Klingon tribble war.

Ahh no... not the Tribble war, gives me the creeps...

ohhh how cool would it have been if the tribbles had taken over and destryod the kligons! i mean i do like the kilgions but still it would of been cool lol

what do you mean take over, your talking about little more that a purring ball of lint:) the most they might do is clog the impulse drive and that would take a great many, concidering some would be incinerated.

But why have the klingons declared the war against the tribbles .....they aren't much of a thread

Coz they ate the Klingons out of many of their systems, and are allregic to them!

Every time a Klingon get near them the Tribbles go mad and start making strange noises!

That's the only reasons we know of...

I think they are scared of there faces

This is how they could destroy or take over the kilgions it would only take a couple abord a ship to get to QRO'NOS and they could wipe out all the food and resorces on the planet lol i guss that romluans could use them to destroy planets reasource lol beam a couple to surface lol and let them eat the contents of the planet

they eat, they multiply.... reminds me of gremlins, your forgetting the main reason klingons realy hate em, they hate them because they are cute, the reason tribbles go nuts is because they are empathic and eminate empathic waves, you see em, you like em, they feel liked purr and send good feelings that make you feel peacefull, klingons see em hate em get screams and hate feelings back putting klingons in MDK mode, thats the alergy that that klingons suffer. how inna hell can a ball of fur with no possible mode of locomotion spread?

same way they did on enterprise im sure that some of the tibbles could of made itto qronos?

Why don't they invent somekinda flamethrower ........I doubt a ball of fur can burn easely

Pour petrol over them and light a match ohhh that would be a sight and a half lol

how they get to qo'nos? easy! by using the first intergalactic tribble battle fleet!. you see the tribbles are cunning master manipulators out to rule the galaxy with theyre cunning weapons of "cuteness"

I took this out of a Star Trek Book i found a few years back.
Deals with several things in the star trek universe, and one of them is the tribbles.
This is a story about the tribbles near extinction.

Our Tribbles look like some exotic variety of lichen as they cluster on the warm, slick surface of a black boulder, their wispy fur quivering in the mint-scented jungle breeze. My fellow xenobioligists and i feel like quivering a little ourselves. This is, after all, a critical juncture in the life of the tribble species- one which survives now as a mere shadow of a horde that once threatened to choke the galaxy.
Fifty five of the creatures are gathered on the rock, shaded from the sun by immense leafy plants that average a hundred meters in height. Each tribble is a slightly different color from its neighbors, though the most popular themes are coffee, auburn, and sand. In some of them these hues are mixed and mingled, in others pure and inviotate.
Up on our ship, in special stasis compartments, there are several hundred more of the small, warm-blooded beasts-insurance in case our grand experiment doesn't bear fruit. To mangle an old expression, we don't want to put all our tribbles in one basket.
As thoroughly as we've studied this remarkably fecund M-Class world, selecting it from more then a hundred others in our databanks, we still cant be sure it will provide the right combination of security and peril. By the former i mean ample and appealing sources of nutrients, adequate shelter from the elements, and a breathable atmosphere. By the latter i mean at least one local predator witha taste for small, furry mammals.
In selecting a home for the creatures we had to take into account what they breathe in, what they breathe out, the composition of their solid and liquid waste products, their radiant body temperatures and so forth. We had to determine what dormant diseases and other parasites they carried in their blood. We even had to consider the complex of nutrients their carcassas would generate when they died.
Once we had identified all the relevant criteria, we developed sophisticated computer models to predict the impact of a tribble introduction on native flora and fauna. If the creatures' activities would seriously disrupt another species' migratory patterns or reproductive behavior- which actually seemed likely in some cases- we crossed that species' world off our list. After all, we didnt want to help our tribbles thrivve at the expense of some other worthy life-form.
In the end we settled on planet Epsilon XVII, which seemed perfect except for its uncomfortable proximity to the romulan neutral zone. But for our efforts to bear fruit, we need the cooperation of this world's largest and most fearsome predator.
I take out my tricorder and call up an image of the savage hunter in question. It is lithe, graceful, and slightly more than half a meter high at the shoulder, with a flat head and almond-shaped eyes reminiscent of a terran feline's. That must be why the federation survey team that first beamed dwn to this world dubbed the beast a river lion.
However with its black, orange, and green pelt and antlerlike cranial protuberances, it's like no lion i've ever seen. Whats more, i've never met a feline who likes to hunt underwater as much as above it.
My colleagues and i are hoping the river lion can make a small dietary adjustment. You see, since that first federation survey and probably for millions of years prior, the creature subsisted largely on something we've come to call a burrow dog.
I punch a couple of inputs on my tricorder and the image of the river lion vanishes, to be replaced by that of a furry, chocklate-and-tan colored rodent: A burrow dog. The sight of one at fifty paces or less is enough to make a river lion salivate. We know - we have records of it.
But there is a problem. The burrow dog population has been declining precipitously, to the point where the species is flirting with extinction. Clearly that is not good news for the burrow dogs, but its almost as bad for the river lions who depend on them Thats where our friends the tribbles come in.
The five of us stand on a slick black rock jutting out over the lush valley where we've abandoned our tribbles. The jungle below us is warm and wet and riotous with color, breathing what smells like butterscotch and peppermint, cinnamon and hot pepper. Monstrous green and orange-plants on eather side of a deep-cut river move languorously under the influance of the wind. Tiny, scaly flying creatures that bear no resemblance to birds waft across a blue-green sky, there golden bodies glinting nobly in the sun.
We'll never know for certain what the tribbles' original homeworld looked like, but we've pieced together a picture. Between drinks from our canteens, we repeat the litany we've been reciting for months. An oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere. A soil rich in igneous precipitates, giving rise to a cornucopea of dramatic plant forms. Magnificent sunsets leaning toward the red end of the spectrum.
But as i say, we can only speculate. After all, the federation only encountered the creatures as recently as 2267. In that year, on Deep Space Station K-7, an interstellar trader named Cyrano Jones is said to have presented a tribble to a comm officer on the U.S.S. Enterprise.
Jones called it a pet- one that was capable of reproducing at an amazing rate, though only when there was ample food around. It made sense, of course- why would nature encourage reproduction at a time when the population was short on sustenance? The trader wasent kidding about the creatures' rate of reproduction. It multiplied more quickly than anyone could have imagined, untill its offspring nearly overran the enterprise. The creatures grew even more numerous on station K-7, somehow finding their way into storage compartments containing a then-valuable grain called quadrotritacale.
Unfortunately for the tribbles, the grain had been poisoned by a klingon spy- a curcomstance that became evident when the majority of the creatures where found dead. The remaining tribbles on K-7 are believed to have been removed by jones, while the enterprise's tribbles where unceremoniously beamed over to a klingon vessel.
It's not clear to us whether klingons had run into tribbles before this time or whether they, like the federation, first encountered them on station K-7. In any case, the warrior race felt what can only be described as a murderous hatred for the little beasts. Calling them an "Ecological menace" of unprecedented proportions, the Klingon High Councel dispatched hundreds of warriors in the latter part of the thwenty-third century to hund down and destroy ever last tribble in creation.
Eventully they succeded. By the end of the twenty-third century, an armada had obliterated the tribble homeworld- along with the last remnants of the species. There where no more tribbles- a fact celebrated by several popular klingon drinking songs. In "Hembec's Sword" the only one still sung today, the singer says he "waded in pools of the tiny demons' blood" and "Drank the stench of their burning fur like wine."
The tribbles story would appear to end there- and indeed it might have, had it not been for a classified temporal mission undertaken by a starfleet team from the twenty-fourth century. While there aren't any details available (It was classified, as i've noted), the team brought some live tribbles back with them from the past.
No one seemed to know what to do with them. Fortunately for the tribbles, Odo, the chief of security for space station deep space 9, took a liking to them and petitioned to have them introduced into a planetary ecology. Witht he support of his superior, captain benjamin sisko, odo eventully got his wish. It was only the second time in history that a species' extinction had a chance to be reversed- the first time being the case of the humpback whales a century earlier.
When we reach the top f the valley, where the sun's heat is even stronger, Varitek takes out her communicator and calls the Heyerdahl for a beam out. We have line-of-sigh access to a confinement beam at this angle, so there's no interference from the transporter-hostile minerals in the vallley's slopes. Moments later we find ourselves back on the ship, in the Heyerdahl's small but efficient transporter room- gratefull to whomever developed climate control technology.
Motter, the grey haired veteran in our little group, goes back to his quarters to get some shuteye. But the rest of us can't sleep, even if we have been going for nearly twenty hours straight. Zwilling leads the way to the special surveillance station we've set up in the ship's sensor room and we start monitoring the tribbles' progress.
consulting the green and red graphics on our screens, Caruso says our electromagnetic tags are all functioning- allowing us to tell one specimen from another. Like the tribbles themselves, the tags are self-replicating, so we can keep track of each new generation. I chuckle, remembering how difficult it was to figure out which end of the creatures to tag. By the fifty fifth subject, it was only begining to get a little easier.
Contrary to popular belief, tribbles can be distinguished from one another by more then just size and color. Their shapes vary from round to egg shaped to elongated and there are considerable difference in the development of their brains and other organs.
On the other hand, They're indistinguishable by sex, since all tribbles possess both male and female reproductive organs. This makes them one of the few truly hermaphoditic species in the know galaxy. We're still working on divining their societal and family structures, if they even have any. So far, we've seen none of the coplex social behaviors displayed by other warm-blooded animals, but it could be that we just havent figured out what to look for.
Caruso checks the tags' other, somewhat grimmer function, a kill feature. Like much of what goes on in nature, it's cruel but necessary. After all, if the colony's grouth isn't checked by a natural predator, it'll upset the ecological balance on this planet and sound the death knell for some previously viable species. that would be neather fair nor desirable. And if the experiment fails here? We keep looking. There's bound to be a lace for our tribbles somewhere.
Varitek wakes me in the middle of the night. "Come Quickly," she says. "Something's happening." Pulling my clothes on, i follow her to the sensor room and hunch over the surveillance screens with her. I see whats got her so excited. Our EM tags, visible as red dots on a black field, are clustered differently, the majority of them concentrated in two places. Varitek turns to me. "Two river lions with big appetites?"
For someone who really hated the idea of destroying our tribble colony, Varitek's awfully happy to see its decimation. But then, so am i. "We can only hope," i tell her.
Meeting Motter and Caruso in the transporter room, we beam back to the cliffs overlooking the valley. The trek down is a lot easier then the trek up, and not just because gavity's on our side. We're all eager to see if our optimism is justified.
Finaly we reach the black boulder where we left the colony. It still has some survivors on it, but not more then a dozzen. On the ground, we find several bloody tuffs of fur, though the animals responsible for the damage have slunk off and are nowhere to be seen. It seems the river lions have risen to the occasion. They've become the population control we hoped they would be. As a result, our tribbles have taken a big step toward becoming part of the ecological balance.
Varitek hugs me, Caruso does a little victory dance. Motter just smiles at us, having seen it all before. I call up to the Hererdahl, advising the crew of what's happened. "It looks like we've found our friends a home," I tell them, not bothering to coneal the satisfaction in my voice.


Great book this is, other stories are about the vulcan homeworld, Cardassian homeworld (and how they may be related to the bajorans), the ferengi homeworld, the trill homeworld, the Hirogen, the borg, the q continuam and much more.

Tielee

Well its a nice story - and I can only try and imagine how long it took you to write it!

It doesn't explain why the Klingons hated Tribbles so much, but then again neither hass any canon trek, so in that respect, we could also call the book canon!

It's nice to see the furry little creatures getting a place to call home, although i'm sure the fact it is so close to Romulan space has more than a little coincidence...shame it wasn't close to Klingon space really...

lol, i spent about 45 minutes typing it onto notepad then loged on here and did a copy paste.

Tielee

Yea thats till quite a bit to write lol