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A group of Starfleet officers in 1986 San Francisco is a recipe for hilarity.

I had to trade my antique reading glasses for some currency. I reasoned that I'd still get them anyway. Time can be funny that way.

We located two whales, a mated pair, scheduled to be released back into the wild after rehabilitation, and Mr. Scott managed to rig the cargo bay of the Bird of Prey into a giant aquarium to carry them.

Things went smoothly until we had to rescue Chekov from the hospital and the US Navy. In hindsight, sending a Russian to an aircraft carrier wasn't the wisest decision.

Has anyone ever gone mad or died in their dreams, and then had the same happen while awake? Although if you're dead you can't really answer, can you?

And it's not that I'm going mad but I have a condition, you see, and part of that condition means hearing voices. But if I'm hearing voices then lets just say that's a very bad thing for the health of Orange County.

And so I've had to resort to some extreme type of training to prepare, but mostly I wonder what I'm going to do if this is the other part of my condition, wherein the people of my Order disappear into the Deep Roads to die rather than go mad and turn into a monster.