Captain’s Log, StarDate: 2147.2
We’ve just crossed the neutral zone, and my entire crew is on
edge. Mr. Sulu is having another samuri warrior episode, and
has been chasing crew members throughout the ship. I am also
concerned about Mr. Spock’s behavior; he appears to be suffer-
ing through another seven year itch, and he has been chasing
Lieu. Uhura around the bridge for the past three hours now —
I’ll admit, that I too have been feeling the pressure of this
ultra-secret mission. I have managed to aleviate some of the
tension aboard ship by planking many of the young, female en-
signs that have been assigned to the Enterprise, per my request,
though I fear that, that alone may not be enough. Dr. McCoy
has suggested a less, stressful method of recreation and sug-
gested a game, so I have decided to take the good doctor’s ad-
vice and have begun a search of ship’s memory files.
Captain’s Log, StarDate: 2218.3
Personal Entry. AFter an exhaustive, computer search, I’ve
settled on Dr. McCoy’s alternate recreational advice. An old,
Earth-based game named, Trespasser.
Difficult interface, but — must — keep — trying. Secretly,
I am rather enjoying the game, though it runs rather slow on
ship’s computers.
Captain’s Log, Supplemental —
Mr. Spock has just caught Lieu. Uhura, and has our ship’s com-
munication’s officer bent over the railing by her station. I’ve
only casually taken a glance back, but they both appear to be
doing an ample amount of er, ‘communicating’. Mr. Sulu has al-
so settled some. He’s been asleep for hours now, and curled up
in a fetal position next to the turbo-lift.
This crew, as good as it is, has picked a bad time to come a-
part. We’re off course, and in dangerous territory, and my crew
appears to be cracking under the pressure. I too, am uneasy.
Mr. Scott has been reporting an unknown drain on Ship’s power
for the past several days now, and he has finally traced the
power loss back to my copy of Trespasser. Since this morning,
I have been forced to play in software mode. I am unhappy about
these turn of events, but there’s little I can do —
Captain’s Log, STarDate: 4137.3
We’re under attack by the Romulans. They are still firing, but
no one as of yet, have raised shields. My heart tatoo shows
that I’m still alright, but ship’s instruments can not confirm
this. I fear now, that there may be a Romulan saboteur onboard.
Smoke, is still filling the bridge, and all of this damn shak-
ing has just knocked over my hot coffee.
I have ordered evasive maneuvers, ordering the ship into the
Town Level for cover, but the crew have not yet responded to my
orders. I fear now, that the situation is worse than I had ori-
ginally suspected. The Enterprise may not have fallen victim
to a saboteur, but it is some unknown virus that has taken hold
of my crew, and their senses.
Captain’s Log, Supplemental —
Ship, seems to be coming apart, and we are still under attack.
Mr. Scott has recommended that we hide inside a nebula, but I
am uncertain of what that is, or in which level it is hidden. A-
gainst Mr. Scott’s recommendation, I have ordered the ship into
the Mayan ruins.
Captain’s Log, Supplemental —
Mr. Spock, has detached himself from Lieu. Uhura long enough to
countermand my orders. I have placed him under arrest, and have
ordered the ship into a steep ascent towards the summit.
Captain’s Personal Log, STarDate: 6127.3
I have become deeply concerned about my own well-being and I
have decided to bolt left down a steep incline. During my Acade-
my days, retreat would never have been considered, but I am un-
armed, and my ship, in trouble.
Captain’s Log, StarDAte: 7312.8
The Romulans are closing in from all sides now, and I have order-
ed a barrage of machine-gun fire to clear a path. I am taking
personal damage, grown breasts, and my left arm appears to have
fallen competely off. Of more paramount concern to me is the
crew’s growing relunctance to follow my orders. I fear now, that
I am losing command…
Captain’s Log, StarDate: 7832.1
I have ordered Mr. Chekov to run a sensor sweep for my severed
arm. Meanwhile, I have relieved that slut, Lieu. Uhura of her
duties. I fear that I can no longer trust anyone aboard, so I
have personally sent out a distress signal. I am uncertain as
to whether or not the summit can be reached in time…
Captain’s Log, Supplemental —
Ship, is continuing to lose power. I have cut audio, and have
reduced screen resolution by 50%. Though Mr. Scott has recom-
mended a fifteen minute game pause, I have ordered auxillery
power be sent to the bridge.
Captain’s Log, StarDate: 8171.3
I am nearing the Helipad, and I sense another trap. Only ten
minutes of breathable air left; rest of the bridge crew, dead.
Continuing smoke on the bridge, and extreme pixelation on my
personal view screen is making it difficult to see. Romulans,
appear to be closing in…
Captain’s Log, Final Entry —
Have been beamed out of Helicopter, and taken prisoner aboard
Romulan starship. My left arm has appeared to have rematerial-
ized with me, and the breast swelling has subsided, though I
have been informed by my captors that the Enterprise has been
destroyed, and her memory banks stripped. There is no time to
mourn for my lost crew, as I now fear that the Romulans have
captured the Trespasser Technology, and will soon be using it
against the federation.
Must — find — a — way — to — stop — them…
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