WxMurray

What have we done? In the original history, Captain Kirk and Company make it through Klingon space to Khitomer. They and the USS Excelsor fight one Klingon Bird of Prey, looking to disrupt the peace conference, and they prevent the death and destruction the ironic Starfleet-Klingon rebel alliance had planned to create. There was just one ship. What have we done? The history they were currently watching had a new twist. Four cloaked Klingon ships. They weren't just any cloaked Klingon ships. These ships were heading for Khitomer. Five Klingons. One Constitution refit, one Excelsior. Both ships took plenty of damage as it was from General Chang's souped-up rebel Bird of Prey. There was absolutely no way that either, let alone both, would survive the attack of five Klingon ships. Kirk, Spock, Sulu, McCoy...they would all die. The dignitaries on Khitomer would soon follow. A deadly, lengthy war would come next. What have we done? It's one thing to be able to watch history unfold. It's quite another to be a participant. In this case, history wasn't so much unfolding as it was unraveling. Coming undone. It was like one of those little threads you find on the hem of a shirt – it seems harmless, but the more you tug at it, the more that keeps unraveling. And you keep tugging, trying to just cut it off and minimize the damage, but that thread goes on seemingly forever. And soon you're standing in a pile of thread. It used to resemble something, but you've just pulled it apart bit by bit. Now it's unrecognizable. Maybe you can put it back together, but there will always be that telltale sign that you starting pulling on something, and it snowballed into near-disaster. As Murray stood at his console, his mind reflected on their actions since they had arrived at this location in time. As far as he knew, the Reaent hadn't done anything to change the course of history. They had held back, found the nearest dark corner of space and hid in it. Nothing could possibly go wrong...right? Except it had. They had done something, even nothing, and it was just the impetus that the thread needed to start unraveling the shirt around them. In history, people had often tossed about the idea of the “butterfly effect” - every action, no matter how trivial or insignificant, has a serious of subsequent consequences. Perhaps simply by being in Klingon space, they had set off a chain reaction that caused four Klingon attack cruisers to take aim for Khitomer. Perhaps the Reaent had actually been detected, but rather than investigate, the Klingons decided that they were under attack by the Federation; and rather than go after the guppy, they went after the bigger, more impressive fish in the sea – Kirk's Enterprise at Khitomer. What have we done? And what do we do now?

Engineering Log Stardate 0911.11 Assistant Engineering Officer G. Saf Murray The starboard nacelle strut is a structural mess. The integrity is not sound, much of the hull plating is gone; it would be open to vacuum if not for emergency force fields...though even those are a stopgap measure preventing decompression, and the system may not hold much longer. The addition of damage to the drive plasma conduit, which has spewn drive plasma into the nacelle and into space, has rendered that nacelle useless. Temporary repairs are being implemented to the best of our abilities. A team of EVA-suited engineers is reinforcing the exiting hull plating, extending braces across the damaged section to maintain rigidity, and installing portable temporary SIF generators in order to prevent the nacelle from detaching during warp. On that note, I have spoken to Lieutenant Caine about the situation. Our engineering teams cannot make the necessary repairs to return the strut and nacelle to a state of “patched” repair, nor can we do a complete repair job. Thus, I have made the recommendation that we put in for repairs at the nearest available repair facility. How that fits into our current mission is beyond me, but that's not my problem. I have informed Lieutenant Caine that because the nacelle is useless, I have ordered the activation of the warp core in the Beta section of the ship. Aside from location, the alternative drive is no less powerful or useful. An engineering crew has been sent up to monitor the core at all times, but all functions have been rerouted to main engineering so that we can continue on as is without having to worry about relocating the entire engineering operation to the Beta section. The main warp core is offline. One lucky group of engineering souls gets the unenvious task of crawling inside it – if it's already offline, might as well get some maintenance done on it. As an aside, Kairi was unavailable when I took these actions, off doing paperwork or some such nonsense. I hope she doesn't mind that I went over her head on this, but she trusts my judgment, and I'm sure she knows that this was the only logical course of action...unless, of course, she prefers that we crawl to a repair dock at impulse power. At which point, we'd be there in about nine months...give or take a year.

Starfleet Command Personnel File Lieutenant Senior Grade Gerhard Murray USS Agincourt NCC-81762 Name: Murray, Gerhard Saffir "Saf" Rank: Lieutenant Senior Grade Service Number: SC-7287468S Current Assignment: USS Agincourt NCC-81762 Position: Engineering Species: Human, Male Height: 1.8288 meters Weight: 87.09 kilograms Place of birth: Torrington, Connecticut, North America, Earth Year of Birth: 2361 Parents: Stephen and Katrina Murray Marital Status: Single Education: Starfleet Academy 2379-2383 Starfleet Career Summary: Stardate 9105.10: Graduated from Starfleet Academy as an engineer Stardate 9105.14: Assigned to USS Orbach as security officer Stardate 9205.25: Promoted to lieutenant junior grade. Stardate 9302.02: Transferred to USS Hartford as senior security officer as full lieutenant Stardate 9310.20: Right arm partially severed in accident aboard runabout USS Susquehanna Stardate 9310.22: Arm successfully reattached and mechanically repaired Stardate 9310.24: Enters post-traumatic counseling Stardate 9311.22: Takes medical extended leave of absence to reacquaint self with new arm Stardate 9708.19: Returns to Starfleet and enters Starfleet Marine Corps Stardate 0105.03: Resigns standard Starfleet commission Stardate 0105.05: Completes Marine training with rank of private Stardate 0106.30: Assigned to USS Luther Marine vessel Stardate 0304.04: Promoted to corporal Stardate 0503.03: Resigns Marine commission and transfers to USS Agincourt as an engineer Stardate 0504.30: Remains on Pax Primus with an away team to prepare it for repair by Starfleet Corps of Engineers Stardate 0509.21: Promoted to lieutenant, junior grade Stardate 0509.21: Caught in the bombing of the Versailles Diplomatic Center Stardate 0509.28: Returns to duty on the USS Agincourt Stardate 0603.01: Promoted to lieutenant. Stardate 0605.02: Assigned to USS Luther as chief engineer with Marine rank of Captain Stardate 0609.20: Reassigned to USS Agincourt as assistant engineer Stardate 070x.xx: Promoted to lieutenant senior grade Stardate 0901.21: Seconded to tactical officer on a temporary basis Stardate 0904.29: Returned to engineering duties Background: Murray was born in 2361 to Stephen and Katrina Murray. He grew up in the suburban outskirts of Torrington in western Connecticut. Murray, not an outgoing person, made friends with the neighbor child down the street, Andrew. It was Andrew's father, a science officer on the USS Nova, combined with the influence of his own father, a retired Starfleet engineer, that propelled Murray into Starfleet. Murray graduated from Starfleet Academy as a promising engineer. Unfortunately, a clerical error at the personnel office caused him to be assigned as a security officer. Not having the patience to go through the red tape and making the correction, Murray started out his career as a security officer, following in the footsteps of cousin Wimbley. Aboard the Orbach, he received several awards for good conduct and was praised by his superiors for his initiative and its results; he was promoted to lieutenant junior grade in relatively short order. The Orbach was decommissioned in 2385 and Murray transferred to the USS Hartford at the request of Captain Phillip Klondike, the former first officer of the Orbach, as the senior security officer, with the chief of security his only departmental superior. Klondike, understanding the engineer/security officer's department plight, allowed both departments to make use of him as needed. Later that year, Murray was the senior security officer and junior engineer on the away team aboard the USS Susquehanna. The runabout was severely damaged by a two-century-old defensive system on an asteroid in the Delta Nu system. Murray's right arm was partially severed by flying debris in the cabin. The Hartford rescued the away team, barely saving his life. After being stabilized on the Hartford, the doctors at Starbase 403 were able to successfully reattach his arm, using few prosthetic and mechanical devices. Nevertheless, his arm was significantly changed; his right arm can bench press 20 kilos more than his left and can move marginally faster. After a number of post-traumatic counseling sessions, Murray took a medical extended leave of absence to get used to the new arm and to come to terms with what the situation. After spending a year at home, Murray felt the cosmos calling to him. He left Earth and traveled to the Klingon Empire. He spent almost three years roaming the Empire, learning its culture and language. In 2387, Murray returned to Earth with a renewed life. He entered the Starfleet Marine Corps, hoping to put his knowledge of engineering, tactics, and security to use. After undergoing training, Murray graduated with the rank of private. Unfortunately, Starfleet would only allow one commission at a time; Murray was presented with the difficult choice of career paths. After much consideration, Murray chose to stay in the Marines and was subsequently assigned to the USS Luther. After four rather uneventful years on the Luther, Murray was approached by his friend and superior Lieutenant Colonel Marissa Ipswich. Ipswich had been informed of a non-Marine position on the newly commissioned USS Agincourt, the position of an assistant engineer. Murray realized that his career was going nowhere with the Marines and accepted the transfer to the department he had originally trained for. Having resigned his standard Starfleet commission years earlier, he was at the low end of the totem pole again, back to an ensign. Still, it did not matter to him; he was back in his element. Murray's first mission as an engineer took him almost immediately off the Agincourt. He was assigned to oversee the protection and repair of the joint communications array at Pax Primus. The array was practically destroyed by Romulan terrorists who opposed the peace treaty with the Federation and Klingon Empire. Murray was left with a team of science officers and engineers to protect the array from further destruction and to prepare it for repair by Starfleet Corps of Engineers. This mission was successfully completed after more than a month, followed by several months of shore leave for the team. Following the completion of the mission, Murray was reassigned to the engineering division aboard the Agincourt. On stardate 0605.02 Murray transferred back to the Marine vessel USS Luther as chief engineer to carry out an investigation into potential Romulan spies, collaborators, and defectors. Details of this mission are still unclear as most of the information remains classified. Due to his prior assignment on the USS Hartford, Murray was seconded to the bridge to serve as temporary tactical officer while the Agincourt awaited the assignment and arrival of new crew. The assignment lasted for a brief period before he returned to engineering duties. While it felt good to return to his roots as a security officer, he was glad to be able to return to his regular duties in engineering. Notes: Mr. Murray's social tendencies depend on his mood. He tends to be antisocial and independent, but is not unknown for him to be the life of a party. He has become known throughout the ship for his jokes and bad puns. He gets a perverse pleasure out of watching people cringe and groan at his puns. During the mission on Pax Primus, Murray befriended three non-commissioned engineers that were assigned to his team. Crewmen Nicole Dickinson, Jayson Williams, and Nora Brady had all recently finished their technical training and had received their first assignments on the Agincourt. Murray, in his relaxed manner, helped the trio overcome the shyness and uncertainties of their first mission. He has since taken charge of the trio as his engineering team and has continued to aid in the development of their skills and careers. Murray's hobbies vary widely. He is an avid listener of classical music and is a tuba player (though he laments the fact that life on an exploratory warship makes it difficult to find the downtime to play). He is also an amateur athlete, enjoying pickup games of flag football, soccer, and lacrosse, among others; Murray also frequently picks up oars for a canoe down a quiet river or raging rapids. He is probably best known amongst his shipmates for his enjoyment of pastries and deserts, particularly doughnuts. He takes time out of every week to make a baked good from scratch using fresh ingredients he obtains from merchants and suppliers at starbases and layovers, eschewing replicated items as much as possible. UPDATED STARDATE 0910.17 This file will be updated as deemed necessary.

UPDATE 17 October 2009: A long-awaited update.

Received same message for last five minutes, but am now in the chat.

Murray stood watching the scene unfold before him on the bridge. It was a scene of tragedy, a scene of horror. A scene of his captain stumbling out of his ready room with a knife protruding from his gut. He was pretty sure that wasn’t a good thing. The doctors had swarmed into action around him – Dr. Matthews had been about to leave the bridge, medical technician Ljungberg had arrived from sickbay, and Dr. Smith had been manning his post at the science station. Having a science officer that could also double as a doctor was a plus in a situation like this. Not that one ever imagined needing to have a science officer double as a doctor on the bridge. Not that one ever imagined this ghastly scene. Murray watched as Smith and Ljungberg did their thing. Matthews seemed to be in shock, as she had been the last known person to see the Captain and was leaving the bridge following a conversation in his ready room. And the Captain’s final gasps of consciousness were accusations against the good doctor probably didn’t help any. Murray watched as Ljungberg and Michaels were whisked away to sickbay via transporter. He was about to speak words he did not like uttering, words that were difficult for him to say. He spoke in a low, quiet tone to those remaining. “Seal the bridge and the ready room. Send a security officer to sickbay to collect the weapon once medical is finished with it. Contact security, and have Lieutenant Schawnsee report to the bridge immediately. Inform her the Captain has been stabbed and is being treated in sickbay. And...” His voice trailed off. He turned his gaze from the spot where the Captain had fallen to Dr. Matthews. He spoke even more quietly. “Doctor, I’m going to have to ask you to remain here. I’m not going to put you into custody as the Captain asked. I’ll let Schawnsee make that determination through the course of the investigation. But an accusation has been made against you...and you were the last person to see the Captain.” Without turning his gaze from Matthews, he uttered words that were even harder to speak given the relationship. “And someone find the Commander. Get him up here immediately, if not sooner.” He turned away and walked over to a corner of the bridge, hoping to erase the picture of the incapacitated captain from his memory. Captain Michaels, who would go down with his ship when it gets decommissioned…Captain Michaels, who is as much a part of the Reaent as the ship is of him…Captain Michaels, while maybe not as great and legendary as the likes of Kirk or Picard, who is one of the finest captains in the fleet…and it could all end by being stabbed in his own ready room. The man deserved better than that. The knot in Murray’s stomach tightened. He felt absolutely terrible. That the Captain had been stabbed, that he had accused his chief medical officer and close friend was enough to make even the most seasoned Starfleet veterans ill. He hoped that they could prove the Doctor’s innocence. He hoped that they could track down the would-be murderer. And he sincerely hoped that the two were not mutually exclusive.

Posted about half an hour ago on STARTREK.com: Wow... (original link)

Okay, so I graduated college in May, and I've been looking for a job since. I've found quite a few. They just haven't found me, apparently. So for the first time in a month and a half, I have come across a job opening that has a lot of potential. Among the items I send in each resume package is a cover letter, that thing that's supposed to be a bit more personal than just a resume. I've never been truly satisfied with the ones I have been writing up until now, and I'd like some advice from you people on how to write one, the sort of thing to put in one, etc. I suspect people are better at this than websites are (the best advice I've had thus far is "look it up on Google, there are bound to be websites out there that tell you how" - yeah, a bazillion of them, none of which are of any real help. Real, live people are so much better). And for you high school and college students out there, if you have the opportunity to take a course on job interviews, resume and cover letter writing, etc: TAKE IT! It never occured to me to take one, nor did anyone else ever recommend I take one. In hindsight, while I may not have enjoyed the class, as I probably wouldn't, I would have taken away a lot from it that would have helped me.

Cover letters are mandatory in the TV industry. :lol:

Yeah, so I found out soon afterwards. Oh well.

Seems that STARTREK.com isn't going anywhere and that someone is keeping the site updated - there is indeed a new episode of The Trek Life Today, as well as this announcement:

The other thing is that STARTREK.com has been run by its own staff for many many years, and within the last year it has become one of the CBS properties as part of the Viacom split. My suspicion is that CBS wants to have all of its sites run by the same group of people at CBS Interactive. It's good business sense - why pay and extra group of people to maintain a site when the rest of your code monkeys can do it themselves. My fear is that the new STARTREK.com (I'm operating under the assumption of "when", not "if") will become part of the herd with all sorts of moving and flashing parts and Flash design and stuff, which will make the site slow and annoying. Simpler is better (one of the things I like about the STSF site - it's not an all-out assault on the senses like many sites are today).

I think it was about $3.05 when I last checked...south-central Pennsylvania. As can I. Geeze, that must have been nearly ten years ago now. Wow, it's like $0.32 per gallon in the Keystone State. :lol: And Governor Rendell is actually looking to lease out the Pennsylvania Turnpike. I don't know that they'd be responsible for construction, but it'd be an interesting scenario nevertheless. I share that opinion. I will be in the market for a new car in the coming months. I am definitely looking for a fuel efficient car, possibly (though not definitely) a hybrid.

I think Brian's a dead man... :P Happy birthday, old man! Crap, now I'm dead, too. :) :P

Well, at least you're being open with us...

I'm not sure I should give you the weather. You might end up giving me the cold shoulder. Well, Harper and I are often seen on the Agincourt together, but that doesn't prove anything. I have been known to play several characters at one (I think my record is four). :) :angry: Thanks all. Not the best day, really, because I'm writing a paper, and it's fighting me. But I'm going home for the weekend tomorrow, so I get cake and presents at home, and a (mostly) worry-free weekend. B)

Interestingly enough, I actually learned to type better because of simming. Before I started more than two years ago (that long? :) :angry:), I couldn't type worth beans. I had to constantly look down, and I only knew where a few of the letters were without looking. As time went on with simming, I just got better at typing because I wanted to keep up. I can't really help you in terms of pointing out where to go for help, but I can tell you that in time you will be rewarded. B)

Dickinson sat in her cell. She began to feel lonely after Murray had been taken away. Her cell was small, not much larger than her bathroom on the Agincourt. It was also incredibly dull. Everything around her was a cream or off-white color – the bench, the cot, the sink, the thing that looked like a porcelain garbage bin (probably the toilet, but she wasn't interested in exploring that portion of her cell), the door, the ceiling…she was becoming convinced that a little bloodletting might add some color to the place. The only non-off-white thing in the room was the logo painted on the door. The logo was a non-equilateral six-sided figure with a splotchy language on it. As she sat there, she began to think about how she had ended up off the ship. She recalled feeling the urge to leave the Agincourt, and Murray confronting her in the transporter room. Then, she was here. The more she thought about it, the more she became confused. Just why had she decided to jump ship? She had never had those feelings before. She loved her job, her ship, and her coworkers. From what she remembered, she wasn't the only one to have those feelings. She seemed to recall the transporter chief being willing and ready to beam them away. He even had coordinates input into the transporter. The transporter chief was either an alien invader, or he had been controlled telepathically, or something like that. Whatever it was, he was an agent for whoever it was that brought them here. Her thoughts were interrupted by a transporter beam. She looked over and saw a plate on the ground, and presumably the items on the plate were food. Like the room, the food was pretty dull in color. It, too, was in various shades of white. It also lacked a smell. Since aroma was part of taste, she knew that it wouldn't be very flavorful. She tasted a piece, and her suspicions were confirmed. She nibbled away at what seemed to be a rather dense bread. Likely it was packed with all the nutrients and vitamins that a person would need – not dissimilar to eating a plateful of vitamins, though this meal had considerably less taste. After eating, she curled up to try and get some sleep. Since there was clearly nothing she could do at the moment, she might as well do something that's just as good as doing nothing. After tossing and turning for a bit, she finally began to doze. Various thoughts littered her mind as she slept – her parents, Starfleet, Murray, a nice apple pie, her pet cat, the Agincourt. Her thoughts began to become dreams as she slid into a deeper sleep. It didn't last. She was awoken a short time later by the sound of a cell door opening. Sitting up she saw that the door was not her own. It must have been a door to a neighboring cell. She heard shuffling in the neighboring cell, then it grew silent, and the door closed. "Saf?"

Murray looked around. He was standing in a moderate-sized room about 18 meters in to each side. The roof was domed, and there were lights around the edge of the dome pointing down on the room. The floor was soft, and yet not soft at all. It was like a hard foam padding. The walls were bare, a dull white. There were some placed where the color had been rubbed away to reveal the wall itself; it looked like someone had been cleaning with a Brillo pad. The only decoration in the room was what appeared to be a logo of some sort. There were four of them, one on the center of each wall, about two meters from the floor. The logo was also painted onto the floor in the center of the room, surrounded by a painted circle at about 12 meters from the center – the ring. Some smearing of the logos colors on the floor indicated that the floor had also been subject to rough cleaning. The logo was a six-sided figure, though not equilateral, with a purple nebular-type cloud making up the background. Two weapons, looking vaguely like rapiers, were crossed at the bottom. Two streaks, not unlike the Starfleet warp effect, were positioned on either side of the logo and disappeared into the nebula. A large, irregularly shaped object, presumably a spaceship, hung over the nebula at the top of the image. Behind the ship was what appeared to be a planet. The entire logo with what looked like a spattering of ink. The ink was not random, however, and appeared to be in pattern – probably a written language. The only other object of note was across the room from the door Murray entered through. It was another door. Murray took a deep breath as the knob on the second door slowly turned. Presumably, on the other side of that door was the person against whom he was supposed to seek the revenge he was being told he so desperately wanted. The door opened, and out stepped an alien being. He was pink, a little more than two feet tall, and built like a brick outhouse. And he didn't look happy. The being that escorted him began to speak. "You will be provided adequate. If you harm outside the ring you will be punished. Your round will begin at the tone. Then you can get the revenge you deserve." Murray turned around to protest. "Revenge? Revenge for what? I don't want or need revenge, and I certainly don't need revenge against Bubba McPink here." But as he spoke the escort exited the room. He turned to look at his opponent. As he sized up the alien, a voice came over a loudspeaker. "You will step into the ring." The alien moved forward, but Murray remained where he was. "You will step into the ring." Murray snorted. "I don't think so. He can't injure me if I'm not in the ring, so I'm not stepping into the ring." "You will step into the ring." Murray felt a quick but painful jolt through his body. "Ow!" "You will step into the ring." Murray was jolted again this one more painful than the first. "Ow! Geeze, that hurts!" "You will step…" "Alright, I'm stepping into the ring!" He slowly stepped forward into the ring. "And so the fun begins." As he set foot inside the ring, a weapon materialized next to each participant. It was a very simple weapon – a stick, in fact. But it was more than it stick. It was a quarterstaff of sorts made of a rather sturdy and heavy wood. The pink alien stepped forward, coming out swinging. Murray went into Marine mode. Using his own staff, he blocked the alien's blows, then rolled and swung his own weapon. The alien went down with a loud thud. He was down, but he was not out. He threw his staff, hitting Murray in the hip. While Murray tried to deal with the pain, the alien stood and grabbed Murray. Murray was hoisted into the air and thrown across the ring. As he stood, the alien picked up his staff and made another approach. Murray knew this was not going to go well. Time went on, and so did Murray's "revenge". Swings, blocks, thrusts, punches, cuts, bruises, bloody noses…. As the fight went on, for what seemed like hours to Murray, it became more and more evident that the fight would not end until one of them was dead. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity (actually it was about 47 minutes, but close enough), Murray was dealt a rather severe blow. Due to his multiple injuries, Murray could not deal with the blow as he might when in good condition, and he fell to the ground, his staff falling from his hands. As he tried to muddle his way through the pain, he looked up to see the alien standing over him, ready to strike the final blow. Instinctively Murray rolled to avoid the blow. He felt the floor vibrate as the staff came down full force on the foam floor. Murray looked again to see the alien preparing for another strike. The blow came down and landed in Murray's midsection, doubling him over in excruciating pain. A few minutes later, Murray stood up. The pain was subsiding. He looked around, both for his weapon and his attacker. He found both nearby, outside the ring near where we was standing. The alien was on the floor, passed out. "Finish the round." Murray looked up as he heard the same voice as before. "What happened to him?" "Finish the round." Murray began to get frustrated and began to shout. "What happened to him?" "He was punished. Finish the round." As those words were spoken, he realized what had happened. The last blow from the alien had come outside the ring, which he had been told was punishable. This, it seemed, was the punishment. "Finish the round." "It is finished!" Murray stepped over the alien and headed for the door. "Finish the round." Murray stopped and turned toward the voice. "We fought. He's passed out. I'm not going to kill a defenseless being. I'm not going to kill him because you tell me to. I'm not going to kill him for this 'revenge' that I supposedly want, which I don't. And if you haven't figured it out yet, I'm not going to bleeping kill him! Now let me out!" The voice remained silent this time as it digested the outburst. Finally, the voice returned. "The round will be finished." Another surge of electricity leaped about Murray's body. In intense pain, Murray passed out and fell to the floor.

My computer is named "Prometheus". Can't really remember why. Anyone name his/her computer Banana Jr. 6000? :rolleyes:

At the rate we're going there will be no such thing as "standard time". We will forever be on Daylight Saving Time. As it is we've got what, three months of standard time? Whoo.

UPDATE 22 February 2007: Added a few minor updates - whereabouts, puns, etc.

Murray sat in the empty conference room alone with his padd. Lieutenant Schawnsee and Crewman Wilson had escorted their guests from Richmond to secure quarters. He was still bothered by the vehemence toward him from the aliens. He suspected they would have killed him where he stood had it not been for the rifle he was holding…or the squad of security members surrounding them. Clearly he looked like someone they know. Someone they knew and weren’t all that fond of. During his last trip to the bridge he stopped and grabbed a padd to study. He had downloaded his family genealogy. Perhaps that would hold a clue to the aliens’ dislike. Perhaps, if they were even luckier, it might hold a clue to the fate of Richmond or maybe some insight into their mission. And if they were really lucky, all of the answers they were looking for were right there in his genealogy. Unfortunately for Murray, he suspected he had a better chance of being in a transporter accident, eaten by a shark, struck by lightning twice, and winning the lottery at the same time. Murray actually knew his genealogy quite well…to a point. His family’s history was very well documented, going back into the 900s and earlier. However, he had only ever been concerned with the members of his family that were still living or those of that generation. He could name his great-grandparents and all 12 of their children, and there were a handful his generation outside of his first cousins that he knew names and orders of birth. But anyone who had served on Richmond was beyond that knowledge. Murray went back generation after generation, name after name until he reached the point where his ancestry had died before the start of the NX warp five program. Ten minutes went by, and Murray’s eyes began to hurt from staring at the text. He dropped the padd and rubbed his eyes, feeling a few muscle tremors in his hands. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was just a case of mistaken identity. As he opened his eyes, a name caught his attention, practically jumping off the padd and smacking him upside the head. Warner X. Murray, assistant engineer, Richmond NX-07.

Personal Log Stardate 0702.21 Well, here we are, still stuck out in the middle of nowhere. We’re still not home. We are, of course, in pursuit of someone, something, or some way that will get us home. If not…well, then I guess we’re the new USS Voyager. And to top it all off, I’ve been temporarily relieved of duty. Okay, it’s not as bad as it sounds. Prell just wanted me to take a break. So naturally I followed his order to the letter. Of course, where I spend my time off is my business. And naturally, I’m breaking in engineering. And I suppose that even though I’m still trying to do work (which I shouldn’t be doing since I’m on break) it’s more of a hobby now. And I can work on my hobby during my downtime, right? Yeah, Prell’s not going to see it that way. But ever since I’ve gotten back from the Luther, I’ve felt…I don’t know…more of a calling, I guess, to do my work. I think taking some time with the Marines was good for me. I’ve been through I don’t know how many shifts since I’ve been back, and several times they’ve been back to back. Or in this case, back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to back to...you get the idea. I feel that because of my recent assignment with the Marines that I have been better suited to working like this. Again, Prell might not see it that way, but I’m sure I can come up with something. We are currently bringing a “thing” onboard. We’re not exactly sure what it is. Hence the name “Thing”. Since I’m off-duty, Kairi and Prell are taking care of it. Not that I’m not going to try to stick my two cents into it, but it is their project, not mine. Alright, so I’ve had a couple of donuts now. And something to drink. I must be getting close to going back on-duty, right?

Well, if you're not planning on getting a new computer for a few years, you might as well just wait until Vienna comes out. ;) Yeah, I don't upgrade, I just buy new computers. I'll probably buy a new computer in about a year after I (hopefully) get a job, so I'll go to Vista then.