CAPTAIN'S PERSONAL LOG

CAPTAIN Jean-Luc Picard's PERSONAL LOG
Commanding Officer of the USS Enterprise (NCC 1701-D)
\\ last updated 29.12.06 somewhere in the alpha sector \\


STARDATE 9802.13

Uhm. Hello?
God, this is going to take some getting used too..
Dear Personal Log. Since I overheard Ensign Crusher talking about how every great historical commander he'd heard ever heard of, kept accurate logs for subsequent generations, in the cafeteria this morning, I had Lt. Commander Data install this personal log program.

It has an air of je ne sais quois, knowing that millions of people will read this after I'm gone, but I guess that's a cross all great men must bear. Maybe except for Jesus himself, of course. Bad analogy.

Uhm.. Apart from that we're cruising in space- oh, my name is Jean-Luc Picard, by the way. Jean, not John. Yes, well, we're cruising in space after attending at an intergalactic convention. A first of its kind, I might add. And at the moment we're just waiting further orders. Mm, I guess that's it for today.
Where, do I--
*BEREEBEEP*
Commander Data? How do I turn off the recording? Oh, I just say ---


STARDATE 9806.11

Dear Personal Log. I incidently told Ensign Crusher about you today.
He didn't say anything, but I could tell he was impressed.


STARDATE 9808.24

We have been collecting space debris from the under-developed sections on the ridge of the Beta sector. That's right. In times of uneasy peace, the serve part kick in, and here we are - as far as you can get from civilization without leaving the sector - picking up after others.
Sometimes I feel like beaming down to those planets, gather their leaders and say; "Give up the combustion engine already!" But the Federation prohibits all that. Instead they send available forces out to clean up the mess.

On a more personal note, I am quite confident that Lt. commander Troi has been sending me looks lately. I will tell you more when I've looked into it. Picard, out.


STARDATE 9806.42

Troi winked at me! I swear!
A previously unknown force has gotten to me. I feel like I'm young again, time's standing still and all I can think of is her. Holding her, rubbing her, freeing her from that uncomfortably tight dress. I bet this is what the ancients called magic. Or love.
I wish I could spare a few centuries to learn.


STARDATE 9806.21

No, this not a computer malfunction. The stardate IS 9806.21!
On our way to the space debris, we came a cross a mysterious energy field that somehow distorted the causal chains of our space-time continuity. But after preliminary system reports, nothing seems to have changed. Except for the time locations of course. Shore leave is now further ahead.
It is strange to think about it. In my former future the present past never happened.

On a positive note, this gives me more time to look into the Troi situation.
It's amazing what we can do these days!


STARDATE 9808.46

Dear personal log, I have been going through the security camera tapes these last few days with Mr. Data. This scientific enterprise, of course, is primarily to test out the ship security. For safety reasons. This ship has got some impressive equipment onboard, and Data is all too happy to show me how to manoeuvre the controls. Did you know you can zoom in on cleavage from thousand yards away, with crystal clear picture? I didn't.
I got some really nice print-outs from the holodeck. For administrative purposes, of course.
Apparently Troi likes sandy beaches, and rubbing her voluptuous body in some kind of glistening oil. How fascinating. I've asked Data to pull out what he can find on this ritual. I am determined to find out what it means. After all, it might be some mating ritual, and as captain of this ship I should be informed.
Meanwhile, I'm just hanging around telling people what to do.
There's not much to tell you about.
We're back, so to speak, engaging space debris again.


STARDATE 9809.23

Hi there.
Deanna Troi did not wink at me this today, like she did that today earlier. How peculiar.
Having tried several cross-references there are no moments of passion captured in the security cams. Instead it seems Commander Riker is advancing at incredible speed. He even touched her shoulder today. From what I've learned studying the holodeck tapes, I'm confident she's closing in on a period of heat. How long until she succumbs to the man with the longest beard? Well, I know something about Riker's personal history that she doesn't. And even though I don't intend to, I just might have to use it.
After all, all is fair in love and war.


STARDATE 9809.84

We have been intercepted by a vessel of unknown origin.
On a high-band frequency we were able to pick up a message they have been repeating to us for the last few hours. I have ordered communication to decipher it, so maybe we can establish a communication channel with them. I have notified Starfleet command, and they confirm that this ship is not in any of our records. Could it be an unknown race?
At this moment, we cannot rule out the possibility that they are Borg.
But it doesn't concur with their usual harvest pattern. In the meantime, all garbage operations have been paused, not to create any confusion. Or worse.


STARDATE 9812.14

Two whole days have passed and we've got nothing.
The ship is just lingering there like a sleeping space cow, repeating the same message over and over again.
It is the hottest lunch topic onboard. Some think they are superior to us, and consequently unable to make any sense to us. Others think they are inferior to us, and consequently unable to make any sense to us. Others yet suspect the ship to be empty.
We tried peacefully to go about our business, but it seems the unknown ship has some sort of force field control over the Enterprise. I've told everyone to stay on alert. Engineering's looking into a way of breaking free, in case of emergency. I suspect that might include dilithium crystals.


STARDATE 9813.55

Another day now and we might have a solution to the message. Worf is growing anxious to try the escape plan LaForge constructed. Only to crush them, as he said. SF command have adviced me not to. For all we know, they might have a powerful arsenal pointed in on us this very minute. This only put fuel to the fire, and security reports Lt. Worf has been increasingly uneasy. The situation is tense.
A pet dog was found with its neck broken this morning.
Commander Riker is also becoming a nuicanse, telling everyone to stay calm. His charming personality doesn't fool me for a second. He's only trying to get to her.
Drastic measures are adviced.


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