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Lt. Commander
Join Date: Dec 2007
Posts: 120
# 7 Snared - Part 1
03-23-2012, 09:00 PM

Captain’s Log Captain Gre’en aboard the USS Gemini reporting.

Gre’en. We’ve been patrolling the Neutral Zone for the last few weeks. We’ve been seeing more and more Klingon vessels in the area. The Empire is getting bold in their activities. However, the crew has been exceptional in the performance of their duties, while operating without the leadership and supervision of Mr. Brot, my first officer.

Gre’en. Sometimes, I wonder what exactly he does around here. I may need to ask him when he returns from shore leave. Gre’en.

With the constant threat from the Klingons, I have been unable to root for more than a few hours at a time. For a botanical life form such as myself, taking root is the equivalent to sleep or hibernation that many of you animalian species undergo routinely. If I’m to bloom at all this season, I really do need to spend more time rooted.


However, it has given me an opportunity to get to know my crew a little better. Gre’en. The crew of the Delta shift are an interesting example. They work well together, and it shows through the shorthand and the intuitive nature of their interactions. They seem to know exactly what each other are thinking in nearly every situation. It’s a most fascinating spectacle to behold. I suppose it helps having a couple of Betazoids and a Deltan on the team. Gre’en!

Gre’en. Most interestingly, I discovered another Gre’en amongst my crew. I wonder why Mr. Brot didn’t mention to me that there was another Gre’en on board. Gre’en …Gre’en’ has a firm stalk, a pleasing color, and appears to have blossomed sometime in the last few lunar cycles. Gre’en’ is a fine science officer to boot. However, her prowess as a science officer only became evident in a recent event that occurred on board the Gemini. Gre’en.

I was on the bridge with Delta Shift. We were sharing stories of childhood and seedlings with one another. The Gemini was traveling at high warp towards Sherman’s Planet and Deep Space K-7 to take on supplies, when the ship suddenly lurched to a stop so fast that the inertial dampers didn’t have enough time to compensate. Gre’en. Each of us was thrown from our seats onto the floor. I asked for a status report, as I checked myself for breaks and cracks in my stems and branches. I was fine, but everyone else wasn’t as lucky.


“We’ve got minor injuries on all decks,” Lotorro, the Delta Shift’s Deltan Tactical Officer, reported once he was able to return to his station.

Purina, the Caitain Helmswoman, announced, “Engines arrre at full, but we’rrre not moving.” Concern filled her feline eyes, when she said, “They’rrre starrting to overrrheat. I suggest we thrrrottle back for now, before we burrrn out a warrrp coil or two.”

“Gre’en,” I replied with a nod. Purina reduced engine power a little at a time. I turned to Gre’en’, who had been analyzing sensor data since the accident. “Do you perceive anything?” I asked.

Gre’en’ turned away from her console and reported, “Gre’en … Our port nacelle seems to be snared on some kind of subspace fissure. Gre’en.” I approached Gre’en’ as she continued to study the sensor data. “According to these readings, the nacelle is registering different chronometric measurements at various points along its electro-plasma network.”

Hashanna, the Delta shift Engineering Supervisor, called out from her station, “The warp coils aren’t getting enough continuous power to maintain a warp field. Request permission to head down to Engineering to give them a hand.”

“Do what you can. Gre’en,” I replied as I continued to scan the sensor logs from over Gre’en’’s shoulder. “Are those Tachyons accumulating in Shuttle Bay 3?” I exclaimed.

“Gre’en,” she replied. “I don’t know where they’re coming from, but something is definitely happening in Shuttle Bay 3.

“Captain, Shuttle Bay 3 reports that an anomaly with a definite Tachyon reading is forming near one of the shuttles,” Lotorro replied. “The ensign on duty reported that someone just emerged from the anomaly and has boarded a shuttle. It’s powering up its engines.”

“Gre’en!” I exclaimed. “Prevent the shuttle from leaving. What in the name of the Great Redwoods is going on down there?”

“The shuttle has left the shuttle bay,” Lotorro continued. “I don’t know how, but they were able to override the shield frequency to escape.

“Get a tractor beam on that shuttle, now!” I commanded. “Don’t let them escape. Gre’en!”

“Got them!” Lotorro said. “They’re not going anywhere. Should I return them shuttle to bay 3?”

“Not yet,” I ordered. I want a security team to report to Shuttle Bay 3. Once they’re in place, you can bring them back aboard. Gre’en’, join me please. We’ll be in Shuttle Bay 3. Purina, you have the bridge. Gre’en.”
Gre’en’ escorted me to the turbo lift. We rode the lift to the Shuttle Bay in relative silence, only exchanging a singular word, heavy with meaning, concerning our current situation, in our native language. Gre’en.