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Table Of Contents

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 the copyright in the collective work as a whole and vests initially with the author of the contribution."

This mission may not be reproduced in any form without the express, written authorization of STARSHIPS OF THE THIRD FLEET.

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.