The crew has been undergoing rigorous stress tests and survival training in the field.
In the last week, The Captain and Co-pilot had to make an emergency disembarkment from their home base. The two other occupants were evidently Borg.
Resistance was actually NOT futile.
The Captain and Co-pilot, being relatively peaceful, decided that there was no defeat in a strategic retreat.
They are now in a holding pattern awaiting finding a new port.
While on a short away mission, they encountered the Mothership. She relayed some older hails that had been gathering dust.
The notification that The Captain's pilots license had been suspended for failing to casts votes as to the future of The Federation was passed along.
After surrendering many credits to a crooked Ferengi behind the counter, they were once more cleared for flight.
The science lab has been packed up and relocated to a new location, far from sticky fingers and prying eyes.
The crew is exhausted but have yet to kill each other in an attempt to obtain higher rank.
It bodes well.
Also, the crew picked up some rubber water containers that burst on impact. It has been announced that at some point soon, there shall be a war.
War, said loosely, as no one can match the flight skills of The Captain.
End Transmission
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