Mission 16: WHAT THE HELL’S GOIN’
ON?
The contents of the Ship Logs are considered to be a
"compilation" under the provisions of Title 17, U.S. Code (known as
the Copyright Act): that is, "A work formed by the collection and
assembling of preexisting materials or of data that is selected, coordinated or
arranged in such a way that the resulting work as a whole constitutes an
original work of authorship." As such, it is the property of the ship’s
Captain; however, automatic transfer of ownership to STARSHIPS OF THE THIRD
FLEET is
effected upon publication of this mission by the ship’s Captain ipso facto.
As outlined in Circular 1 (Copyrighted Basics, Library
of Congress, Washington DC, USGPO 1989-262-309/12), "copyrighted in each
separate contribution to a periodical or other collective work is distinct from
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This mission may not be reproduced in any form without
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Prologue
Captain’s Personal Log: 2330
Before leaving Flying Cloud a few new crewmembers came
aboard. LCDR Spahn has transferred to Starfleet Academy to teach
Intelligence classes. LCDR Seabrook has taken Spahn’s place as Chief
Intel Officer.
The Kennedy’s have moved on to Starfleet Special Services and
will be missed.
Somerville transferred to another ship and ENS Pyrebon will be
the PHOENIX’s new Helmsman.
We are transporting Admiral Cohan to a conference on Sim III.
Admiral Cohan stayed behind on Flying Cloud until the inquiry
of the murders of Nogero, Polk and Tynne was concluded. Quite a few
of my crew had to testify so we weren’t able to get back into space
as soon as I would have liked to.
Cohan seems content to roam around the PHOENIX looking busy. The
crew seems to like him, but he gets on my nerves. We have already
butted heads during our first few days out of Flying Cloud,
so lately I have been trying to stay out of his way.
We have had several dinners along with decent entertainment.
These occasions sure make the tedious trip a little more enjoyable.
LT Laurence Stewart has entertained us with a reading from
Shakespeare. LCDR QaS and LCDR Mon’Teith gave a demonstration of
their finer points with a bet’leH. LT Adam Brannon broke out his
guitar and sang a few songs for us. To top it off, Travis, Leroux,
T’Pel, Renner, Ply, and Hersch collaborated on some decent chorus
line dancing. All an all, we have had some great evenings…Captain
out.
After a sleepless night, the Captain woke earlier than usual. She
suddenly realized she was famished. She hadn’t eaten since the
Admiral decided to join her at lunch yesterday. Deciding to forgo
the ritual cup-of-hot-chocolate breakfast, she approached the food
dispenser with, "two eggs, over medium, two slices of ham and two
slices of toast." A beep sounded shortly that her meal was ready.
Removing the plate from the slot, she headed back for the desk where
she frequently had her meals. It wasn’t until she was ready to set
the plate down that she looked at the food on the plate… and nearly
dropped it as it bounced on the desk. Huge light-orange bugs were
making a good meal out of the ham and eggs. They must have been
two-inches long. Lawrence backed away from the desk and hit the
Comm. button.
"QaS… this is the Captain… QaS?"
"He just came in, Captain, one moment."
"Yes, Captain?"
"Commander, come to my quarters pronto. We’ve got a problem."
"On my way."
"Where do you think they came from, Commander?" asked Lawrence of
her Chief Engineer.
"I don’t know, Captain. I’ll have my team check out the rest of
the dispensers to see if they are infected also."
"Good, QaS. I’ll get Medical and Science to do some testing on
them… find out how they affect us, if they bite, are they poisonous,
etc. Please run a few of these critters down to the lab for me. My
stomach won’t handle these things much longer."
Walking toward the tubolift, QaS mulled over what he had just
witnessed. Not the bugs… the Captain. Her call for assistance had
been so hurried that she had not thought to change her attire… she
was still in her sleep wear when he entered her quarters… her long
hair hung loosely over her shoulders. She appeared considerably
younger than he knew she was. The tubolift doors opened as he
approached.
After giving the Science and Medical teams their orders, Lawrence
began putting herself together for another day. As she was putting
the last pin in her hair, a thought hit her. My God, what about
the Admiral?
Too late… Admiral Cohan came roaring out of his quarters, still
in his pajamas and robe, a cup and saucer in his grasp, one with
large light-orange bugs using his coffee cup as a swimming pool.
"What the hell’s goin’ on?" He bellowed down the corridor.