JUNE 20TH 2380. Since the return to Earth, there had been very little cause for celebration. Today was definitely ranked amongst one of the many bad days that the senior staff of the former starship Phoenix, had recently endured. The hill overlooking the bay, in the grounds of Starfleet Headquarters was usually a popular tourist spot for people relaxing, having a picnic, or students studying. The vibrant multi coloured hues of the vegetation, with the sun overhead regularly beaming through a cloudless blue sky, made it the ideal spot to take time out. But today none of this rang true, as it was devoid of the usual activity including the usual joggers. The weather grid was offline, as requested in the Admiral’s will. She had requested that on the day of her burial, or memorial, that it was her desire to let the weather occur naturally, and to let mother nature decide the day.
Thanks to the Channel M team for coming down to our 20th March event and filming and here's what they put together. ....Mainly to show you what a great day it was for all of you that didn't bother turning up :)
The morning coffee was the colour of ditch water and tasted worse. Kirk spat the bitter brew back into his cup and pushed it aside, wrinkling his short nose in disgust. Making a mental note to berate the galley chief before lunch, he suspected the state of the beverage was due more to the quality (or lack of it) of the product than the method of its brewing.
The three senior officers of the USS Enterprise were gathered around a table in the Officer’s Mess Hall, close to the single exit. There they watched a steady trail of dissatisfied ‘customers’ discard briefly sampled cups of ‘ditch water’ into the garbage disposal chute, then wander off back to their duty stations; voicing their concerns over the apparent steady decline in catering standards aboard ship. Doctor McCoy could sympathise with their dissatisfaction.
“The one thing any self-respecting, hard working officer on this ship can hopefully expect in the morning is a good cup of Columbian grade coffee. Without that, all hope for the galaxy is lost..” He grumbled, half choking on a mouthful of the brew. “We could just as well be drinking engineering lubricant. In fact I‘m sure we are.”