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Security Chief's Log, Stardate 90210.3 One of our betazoid crewmen has reported sensing feelings of hatred and anger emanating from the... "substance" in the lower decks. He believes that it may be some form of sentient life, though I find this doubtful. I will dispatch a poorly-prepared security detail to investigate and to build dramatic tension.
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Sep 18, 2008 00:16
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Security Chief's Log, Stardate 90210.9 The security detail has unsurprisingly failed to report back. The crewmen who reported sensing the emanations from the... substance has also been found dead in his quarters. The doctor says his brain literally exploded inside his skull. Recommend contemplating philosophical issues in the briefing room while we wait for dramatic tension to crescendo.
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Sep 18, 2008 01:49
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Security Chief's Log, Stardate 90210.X Chief Engineer is technobabbling at an increasing rate. Recommend immediate confinement to the brig.
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Sep 18, 2008 05:43
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Security Chief's Log, Stardate Unknown The... substance has fused itself with the ship's computer and is slowly taking over the ship's functions. Our phasors are still functional, but firing them in the methane-laden lower decks would be futile and embarassingly fatal. We may have to take drastic actions, or the U.S.S. Starship will be under complete fecal control in a matter of hours.
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Sep 18, 2008 07:28
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Security Chief's Log, Stardate 18 September, 2308 Captain seems obsessed with reaching Eroticon VI as soon as possible. Why he would be so interested in a Ferengi colony, I have no idea. He may be suffering from space dementia, or some after-effect of the recent excrementory invasion. I've asked Chief Medical Officer to sedate him and bring him to sickbay when he's not looking. Fister Roboto fucked around with this message at 17:42 on Sep 18, 2008 |
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Sep 18, 2008 17:31
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Replicator Chief's Log, Stardate 90210.421 Replicators are malfunctioning yet again due to a sudden, massive surge in requests for potato chips.
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Sep 18, 2008 17:52
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Security Chief's Log, Stardate... um... uh... Stardate... 1 I wonder why I've always been trying to fight with intruders that beam aboard. All we've got to do is talk to them, man. Get them to mellow out a little. Then it's all coooooool. oh man i can see my hands
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Sep 18, 2008 18:19
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security chiefs log stardate man i dont even remember what century it is we were just cruisin along this big ol universe of ours just chillin when suddenly like woah this huge klingon bird of prey decloaks of the starboard bow and theyre all like "ambassador mol'tar has arrived for escort to the diplomatic talks" and the captain was still freakin out about burgers so im all like "its cool man why dont you fellows come over and join the party" and so they beamed aboard with a whole case of vintage blood wine which isnt really my thing but its cool and we just kinda mellowed Security Chief's Log, Supplemental Woke up in a puddle of what looked like pepto bismol. Counselor was bawling, the captain was just staring straight off into space, and the doc was screeching in my ears about how marijuana is lethal to Klingon physiology. Putting in my papers for a transfer.
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Sep 18, 2008 22:46
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Security Chief's Log, Stardate Huh? The liquified corpses of the Klingon ambassador and his entourage have been mysteriously replaced by a large group of female Vulcans in chains and loincloths who every so often beg and weep to be treated with mercy. Furthermore, the emblem on our communicator badges is now what looks like a sausage garnished with chili, and the computer voice sounds like Morgan Freeman. I led the Vulcan women down to sickbay for the doc to give them a quick examanation, but as soon as I removed their manacles they began disrobing me and rubbing themselves against me, right on the bridge. The captain was pretty enthusiastic about this, but I had a job to do. I ordered the helmsman to escort them. He's a bit of a fruitcake, so he shouldn't have any issues.
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Sep 18, 2008 23:58
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Boy Genius Log, Stardate 90211.6 Why won't Ashley Judd go out with meeeeeeeee 
Fister Roboto fucked around with this message at 00:43 on Sep 19, 2008 |
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Sep 19, 2008 00:41
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Security Chief's Log, Stardate Wednesday Lunch yesterday was particularly delicious, thanks to the hard work of Transporter Chief, but I've been feeling strange ever since. Must have been the Romulan gorp-slop, but lately I've been feeling like something wants me to MURDER THE CAPTAIN AND COMMANDEER THE SHIP. ANNIHILATE ALL NON-FUNGAL LIFE IN THE VICINITY. BRING GLORY TO THE GREAT MARTIAN MUSHROOM EMPIRE. KILL DESTROY ENSLAVE.
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Sep 21, 2008 00:43
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Security Chief's Log, Stardate 90316.6 Twister Night ended in a disaster that claimed the lives of 32 crewmen and left the Starship in dire need of repairs. Little did we know that a Trill placing his left foot on red and right hand on yellow while a Vulcan whore puts all four limbs on blue was the first step in the summoning ritual for Vhaktanesh, the forgotten Cardassian demon-god of pain and torment. The majority of the crew in the lounge at the time perished in the searing flames that burst forth from the hellish higher dimension, while most of my security detail that went down to secure order was consumed by the sea of writhing, ravenous maggots that the replicators were producing non-stop. Fortunately Chief Engineer was able to pull an inverse polaron thingamjig out of his rear end to contain Vhaktanesh, and the ship survived with a new record low for crewmen lost in an extra-dimensional incident. We have not been able to deal with the hull in the lower decks being transformed into pulsating, bleeding flesh, but we hope we'll be able to fix it when we dock with 420.
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Sep 23, 2008 19:17
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Security Chief's Log, Supplemental On the bright side of the Twister Night Massacre, crew productivity has increased 95% due to a corresponding decrease in the number of living Vulcan love slaves on board.
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Sep 23, 2008 20:34
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Security Chief's Log, Stardate Numbers I've given Security authorization to instantly vaporize anyone caught mentioning "cake," "companion cubes," "neurotoxins," or any other reference to "Portal." I know it was a good game, guys, but it's been almost four hundred years. Give it a rest already. Supplemental: The Starship is now down to a skeleton crew of 12, including our last surviving Vulcan love slave, who has taken over as Chief of Operations. Fister Roboto fucked around with this message at 23:13 on Sep 23, 2008 |
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Sep 23, 2008 23:09
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Security Chief's Log, yadda yadda We've taken on a full crew complement to replace our losses from the dual Twister Night and Portal Joke Massacres, and just in time for me to find a baker's dozen crewmen mauled and half-eaten in the corridors. I was about to get to the bottom of their murders when it dawned on me that the counselor had actually requested a habitrail for giant cats. Attention all crew: There are seven large cougars loose aboard the ship. Please be advised. Immediately contact security if you find one. Security chief out.
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Sep 24, 2008 21:42
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