Being stranded in the cargo bay because the rest of the ship is still uninhabitable from the Tongu stink ray is starting to lose its charm.  The feral shrieks coming from the abandoned corridors makes it hard to carry on a conversation, much less follow one of Powell’s interminable campfire sing-alongs.  We’ve burned through the cargo of marshmallows and chocolate that we were supposed to be transporting to a Junior Ambassadors event, and we're now down to stale graham crackers.  Jayda is still missing with the only pressure suit, and while I continue to subscribe to my theory that this is all just a practical joke of his, I’m not as certain of it as I was a week ago.

The animal howling outside the cargo bay doors is quite a head-scratcher (and a tritanium plating-scratcher as well, given the claw marks we’ve spotted on the walls, floors and on INFO’s shattered robot frame).  Assuming this isn’t all part of Mr. Jayda’s gag (and if it is, I have to say bravo), then it’s probably for the best that we’re trapped in this cargo bay, whilst the creature (or creatures) have the run of the rest of the ship.

The good news is that Chief Beauregard has finally gotten INFO put back together and he’s up and running again.  The bad news, however, is it seems that Chief somehow fouled up INFO’s ethical subroutines while switching him back on.  With INFO’s morality protocols switched to maximum, he’s gotten all super-preachy and judgmental about everyone.  He caught a pair of young ensigns making out in a triage tent this morning and he ripped the tent to shreds, spending half a paper spool lecturing them about living in sin.  Later, he overheard me telling Powell one of my famously saucy jokes, and I (yes, me the captain!) received several scolding reproaches on his strips of paper!  And now he refuses my orders to go back out and kill off the monster(s) roaming the ship because he’s a ‘conscientious objector’, whatever the hell that is.
 
I’m at a bit of a loss.  Honestly, I would have thought that another Galactic Union ship would have come along and rescued us by now.  Just please don’t let it be Reggie who saves us.  Frankly, I’d rather us all starve to death.

While the Tongu slavers are long gone, it’s nearly been two weeks since they attacked our ship with their "stink ray," leaving the rest of the ship uninhabitable.  We’re making the best of it as the entire crew huddles inside the unaffected cargo bay.  I’ve been trying to raise morale by making things like a sort of camp here for the whole crew!  We’ve pitched some of the emergency triage tents we pilfered from one of the disaster pods, we disabled the fire suppression system so that we could get a campfire going, and we’ve supplemented our survival rations with marshmallows, chocolate and graham crackers, to make what I call ‘Graham Cracker Casserole’!  Also, I’ve had Powell lead everyone in a camp sing-a-long, with traditional camp songs like The Humpty Dance and The Itch that Stayed for Dinner.

But, unfortunately, things are taking a turn for the worse.  The plasma energy cells that we used to create the campfire are sucking up the oxygen supply at a troubling rate.  What’s worse, Dr. Rena, Ensign Adams, and most of the female crewmen on board have formed a splinter faction and annexed the cargo bay’s only bathroom in retaliation for the ‘No Girls Allowed’ clubhouse fort that Chief Beauregard and I built out of empty marshmallow crates.  Perhaps even worse, we found INFO broken into several pieces just outside the cargo bay this morning and, naturally, the Chief is taking his sweet time putting him back together.

Now, to top it all off, Lt. Jayda has gone missing with the only pressure suit.  He was supposed to return from his shift topside two hours ago, and he flatly refuses to answer his communicator.  All we can hear now is the crazed, animalistic howling that’s echoing throughout the corridors that started up shortly after we found INFO’s claw-scarred pieces and the garbled warning scrawled on the scrap of paper we found in his printer feed.  I’ve become convinced that this is all some elaborate practical joke by Jayda, the cheeky bastard.  Does his little prank goes all the way back to the stink ray and even the slavers?  I have to say, I’m impressed!  I didn’t know that rascal had it in him!