Wormhole by-the-Nebula

Off to the pear for us. We seem to like
that tasty metal thing. No
logarithmic or loxadromic spirals down
Mass Ave this time, tho. [see
Operation Froooot Looooops] We were all
about finding new routes to a
familiar destination. With a sooopah
tight crew, we managed to squeeze
the fleet through some space holes a
mere seven inches wide on our
journey. More to
come on that...



We first stopped for unsavory (and
sweet!) snax at a fine
butterandcreamandflourandyeast emporium
in Constellation North End. We
liked the food, and the food liked us.
You'd have thought we had just
returned victorious from a battle with
the unfun unfunky anti-awesome
club of greater lameville to bring some
posi rays of soooperfunkitude
to the far reaches of the galaxy --
that's how happy the hu-mans were
to see us. Reaction to our space
patrols: much rejoicing on Prince &
Hanover.



Too much cheering can get to a pilot's
head. So it was off to the pear
via a most industrial route. Having
achieved our first objective with
great aplomb (and apear) we headed off
for destinations unknown.



Despite Level D security protocols, much
of the gang had a sense we
were heading right for the edge of the
great nebula. And right they
were! Our confident Navi lead the fleet
through a series of wormholes
right along it's
very edge.



The nebulaic wormholes proved ever so
posi, and muchly pleasing to our
senses. We explored new SCUL territory,
sometimes having to squeeze
the fleet through ramps & gaps mere
inches wide. This contributed to a
high technical rating -- as did some
deep space piloting in very
low-light conditions.



We had two (2) encounters with the STs.
At our first, we disarmed him
quite easily with our usual presentation
of the obvious: "Hello Sir!
We're nerds!" On our second, we had just
stopped at a lovely temple,
perhaps to seek
an oracle within, and ended up taking
some soooper sweet photos of USB
Cloudbuster and the gang (see below.)
Near the end of our shore leave,
a couple
of STs arrived -- and these guys meant
business. We got a stern
warning that this was no place for us
after 2200 and that dangerous
n'er-do-wells were afoot. We made nice
as best we could, and offered
to leave the neutrality zone forthwith.
(We do suspect the STs
secretly wished they could have joined
us, but were unable to violate
local directives of the Empire.)



Moving on, we generally had a most posi
time riding along the edge of
the great neubula. We detected high
concentrations in the local
atmosphere of salinious mineral content.
Having used our sensors to
determine it was not excessively
corrosive, we enjoyed it
thoroughly.



Upon encountering an earth-credits
storage device tossed in
the middle of a space-lane along L
Street, we extracted it from
immediate hazard, and discovered it
likely belongs to an
earth-civilian named
93T3R W 5UCH1CK1 stationed in the
western end of our Galaxy. Being the
posi
gang we are, we took it with back to the
fort, whereupon Admiral Q
plans on reuniting the remaining contents
with their owner as soon as
possible.



Our only navigational twist came near the
Charlestown System, where
one pilot balked at traveling along
poorly-rated space lanes. We
changed our plan straightaway, and our
trusty Navimigatior (and
Mission Reporter) lead the gang back to
base via some deep space
territory which avoided black hole
Sullivan. Gotta learn something new
when you can, right?



Babymaggot Wombat gave excellent service,
including rare-earth beer
molecules, and despite his unfortunate
choice of hosiery was inducted
to Maggothood. Welcome our littlest
space brother.

There was much celebration upon our
return for having completed a
successful -- and deeply satisfying --
mission. May the forks be with
you!



*Mission Update*
Stardate
100915w.1039

Intercept successful!
Hu-man 93T3R W 5UCH1CK1 has been
reunited with his earth-credits storage
device. Nothing was missing. He had left it on top of a
transport-for-hire with no earth-credits inside.
He got back everything he had left
behind, and subsequently used a magna-plastic data
storage device to purchase some Romulan
Ale as an offer of kindness for our hard work. All is
Posi! (Buuuhp)