𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐑 ➪ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐤²

|| 𝐑𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐭 ||

Mental Health Officer's Log. Stardate 2260.03.11.

Now that we're a little way over two months into our mission, I can safely say that I've almost gotten used to life amongst the stars. But that doesn't mean it's grown boring. On the contrary, each day is better than the last. We've already discovered and explored so much. It invites me to consider what other wonders are out there, waiting for us.

Speaking to Luna during my break today has made me realise that I need to set aside more time with her. She keeps insisting that she's fine, but I can see through the lies. I think she's worried about Khan. I'm not surprised since the council has recently been re-assessing their decision at his trial.

On a more positive note, today, I am joining the landing party as it will be Luna's first time off the ship. It's her reward for relatively good behaviour, plus she's been moaning non-stop about not being able to smoke anywhere. We won't be down for long though as this particular planet doesn't have the warmest climate.

I can't exactly continue my xeno-psychology research on Alfa 177 because not much life exists on the surface. I'm simply going down for some fresh air. That's all. It will hopefully be a chance to see some gorgeous scenery and take some new Polaroids for my scrapbook.

Before that, however, I must go and find Mister True. He sent a rather worrying message to my communicator, saying its urgent that I see him straight away...

☆☆☆

It was a humongous challenge for Samsa not to burst out laughing as she looked at her best friend. Turns out it wasn't a huge emergency after all. The poor man simply made the terrible mistake of allowing the first graders to paint for the last session of the day.

"Did they get any of it on the paper at all?" Samsa asked, having to clear her throat to cover a laugh.

Mason scowled at her and continued to pick at the flecks of red that had dried in his hair. He looked like a human rainbow, covered from head to toe in various splashes of colour. "At least I've learnt my lesson. I'll stick to less messy activities when it comes to arts and crafts. You think Luna could do some knitting with them?"

"I'll definitely ask when I see her." Samsa came to stand in front of the drying rack where all of the paintings were displayed. She smiled at one in particular that looked like a rough depiction of Mason wearing his bowtie and fairy wings. "They got your eyes spot on," she teased.

He approached her side to see for himself and grinned at the picture. "I don't think I've ever looked better."

"Understatement of the century." Samsa giggled but smiled at him warmly. "This job is perfect for you. You seem so much happier than you were two months ago."

Mason returned the smile. "I am."

"Any more visions?"

"Nope," he said, popping the 'p'. "Just the same ones that I can't really make out."

"Do you think that means you're getting better at controlling them?" Samsa asked with a curious frown.

Mason shrugged and continued scraping at the red paint in his hair. "No idea. I was gonna try and talk to Amalbi more about it but...she scares me."

The blonde laughed and went to respond when there was a bleep on her communicator. It was a message from Jim: Fancy dinner in my quarters tonight? Samsa felt her cheeks heat up as she grinned at the thought of his offer.

"What's the Captain said?"

She looked up to see Mason smirking with a single eyebrow raised suggestively.