Grand Funk Starship - Part 1
SPACE DATE 2236.084
Eleven days ago, we encountered a Tongu Slaver Ship by the outskirts of the Lambda-Ceti Star System, and pursued them as they fled until they suddenly swung around and fired a strange weapon at us. It must have been some sort of stink ray, because before we knew it, almost the entire ship was saturated with an overpowering stench. I was totally dry heaving for like five minutes until Dr. Rena managed to find out that the cargo bay in the lower-most quadrant of the ship’s sphere-hull was unaffected by the ray. I immediately got onto the ship’s intercom system and, between retches, ordered the entire crew to evacuate to the bay.
The cargo bay’s a big place, but housing the entire ship’s complement in it has proven a logistical nightmare. Yet despite Dr. Rena’s assurances that the stink ray’s effects ought to wear off in only a few hours, it’s been nearly two days, and the rest of the ship remains uninhabitable. Engines, weapons and subspace communications are all down, and the only reason we haven’t been sucked into the gravity well of one of the Lambda-Ceti System’s many gas giants and crushed like a rotten egg, is through the constant firing of our maneuvering thrusters, which has been accomplished by INFO, whose robot olfactory sensors are too primitive to be overpowered by the stench, and also by a solitary officer that we send out in the only functional pressurized space suit we have remaining. There being only one crewman who can maintain the ship at a time, I’ve set up a circulating rotation of my senior officers to keep the minimum ship operations running along with INFO, in 14 hour shifts.
I will update this blog as our situation … hopefully ... improves.
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Captain of the GSV Remarkable. This is my blog.