Last time, on Star Sick: the Original Generation...

"Captain," said First Officer Willie T. Wrecker, "these Bord aliens are taking over the ship! They've converted over a quarter of the crew into moping, black-clad drones, dimmed the lights everywhere by over 47%, and changed the hold music for Customer Support to nothing but The Smiths and Joy Division!"

"I know! I know!" Captain Clerk said, exasperated. "But how?"

"They seem to be converging on the Bridge, sir," said Lt. Whatsisname, tracking their motion on the conference room's really sweet HD display. "We might be able to detain them there if we can cut off access to the upper decks."

Clerk's eyes were on the surveillance monitor. "What are they doing to the décor?"

"It looks like they're installing strobe lights... and a smoke machine..."

And now... the conclusion...

Read More »

The Bridge was awash with light. Captain Clerk opened his eyes and immediately wished he hadn't. Everywhere he looked, he saw irritatingly bright floodlights pointed in every direction -- including directly at his eyes. Then it hit him...

"Are those the Time Travel Flares^TM? I thought those were supposed to be disabled right after Admiral Nezbomb had them installed."

"Sorry, Captain," replied Lt. Whatsisname. "Lt. Ka'ppaa'ck changed the admin password and won't give it out. The support ticket for the flares is still designated Open."

Sigh. Sysadmins. "Okay, well... at least, turn them off before they give me a migraine." An additional migraine, that is.

"Yes, sir. I'll send him another email as well."

Read More »

Waves of strange images floated through Captain Clerk's mind. Statue-like representations of the bridge crew, some weird swan thing, a mannequin on fire, and numerous other images that you wouldn't think would be time travel-related, but apparently are. Echoey voices sounded out command orders, or maybe it was his voice mail. It was hard to tell. The dreamlike haze began to lift as Clerk found himself in his quarters, in bed. It was pretty dark in there, but he could tell there was somebody else in there with him...

"Oh, good. You're finally awake," the person said at last.

Read More »

J.L. Placãrd was a man of few words and even fewer emoticons. Combining that with the Admiral's well-known distaste for SMS in general, Captain Clerk assumed the worst, and was already packing his belongings when the phone began ringing (Fleet Regulation 58A.1 requires Admirals to always follow up any emails or texts with an immediate phone call).

"Jimi? Are you there?"

"Yes, sir," Clerk replied, stuffing his tape collection into a duffel bag while simultaneously trying to figure out how to relocate his bees. "I'm--"

"Sorry I took so long to call," Placãrd interrupted. "Been in dreadful meetings all morning. I hated to be so curt with my message, but that's all I had time for. I hope you understood..."

"I did, sir. I'm packing as we speak."

Read More »