BEGIN LOG:::
Captains log, Supplemental Stardate 2021.7.11…
I can’t say that I would have imagined that the Marines on board would be as good at diplomacy and first contact situations. But frankly, I’ve got to applaud them. Between their continued work and study of the pre-war civilization, I mentioned before they’ve also made nice with the USS Diamondback and the USS Endurance’s crews.
We may not be on the front line unraveling the mysteries of the universe but…this has a special form of reward for me. I think they’re beginning to accept me as one of their own. Even Colonel Nightbird has warmed to me a bit. Still strange to me that a Marine member of Starfleet Intelligence would be in any way a moral center for the crew but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t work.
The parties are getting kind of out of hand though.
The Mixologist onboard put three crew members in sick bay with one of his concoctions the other day.
Doctor Avaaj told me that given the chemical composition of the alcoholic…yes alcoholic, not even synthehol, beverages SHOULD have liquified their organs…but through some means, she can’t quite fathom they were perfectly fine aside from monsters of hangovers the next day.
I might need to have a talk with that man…
When she asked them, and I quite “Holy f#ck why would you even drink that crap?”
They responded “It was a pretty color, smelled amazing and…come on…it was something new and unusual. So why not?”
I mean…I can understand that but…this crew will be the death of Doc and me both!
And then, hell, at the end of the month Doc made a drink of her own for the officer’s mess gathering.
She called it “A little Klingon/Orion collaboration I call Imperial Mead…but with synthehol I don’t need you all as bumbling idiot drunks by the end of this. I tried the original version and…you could peel paint off a bulkhead with just your breath for fuck sakes…good stuff though.”
Orange. It was Orange. And it was spicy. I…I have no words…Still not sure how I feel about it even after drinking three cups of it…what can I say it WAS damned good whatever the hell it was.
Over dinner the other night Nightbird seemed…humble?
“If I am the voice of reason in a given scenario, Captain, rest assured we are facing a very bad scenario.”
I didn’t buy it. It all seemed almost too “It couldn’t possibly be ME” of her but…whatever.
She can keep her secrets. Still starting to like her. Though she does pop up when you least expect it. Walking the corridors on my way to ten-forward I thought I was alone, didn’t hear her walk up, didn’t hear a door open but -poof- there she was. Asking me about something inconsequential.
Found out why Doc doesn’t give the females on the ship headaches…it seems simple in retrospect, but I’d never thought to ask any of the other Orion officers I’d met.
Apparently, there’s a medication, which, when taken daily, suppresses the natural female pheromones of Orions. Explains a lot. Just hope we don’t run out…there’s an almost unusually high concentration of females on this ship and the last thing I need is 424 people on this ship with splitting migraines at the same time.
((AN INTRASHIPM COMMUNICATION NOTIFICATION COMES THROUGH)))
“Sickbay to the Captain. Ma’am…we’ve got a minor situation down here.”<crashing sounds in the background> “Son of a bitch! Would somebody f#cking restrain them already?! Thank you! F#cking hell people. Anyway, oh, right…you might want to get down here…I’d rather it not go through comms traffic.”
THE CAPTAIN SIGHS DEEPLY
Copy that Doctor, I’ll be right down…Out.
What new hell is this? Computer end log.
LOG ENDS