Mirald Prime and Jean Sprat Moping

Personal Log. Commodore's Liaison, Jean Sprat. 04.10.3001.

I am a bit remiss. Oh, who am I kidding? I'm pissed off.

It's no secret that my position is cosmetic at best. In a way, I'm the foundation to Johnny Junior's leadership blush. Still, I think I could be afforded an amount of respect by the Commodore, given that I practically raised his regal ass since he was in his pampers.

Today was the first away mission assigned by Central Command. Two teams were to jettison down to Mirald Prime to study various aspects of their culture. It was a perfunctory mission, one designed specifically to give the crew experience without putting them in harms way. We have several such away missions before we rendezvous in a couple months with the Paath for our primary goal to relocate their Terraquadonis mining community.

Mirald Prime is inhabited by a pre space travel humanoid species, one that shouldn't pose any threat. Chief of Communications, Mao Ling said that there isn't even a word for "war" in the Mirladian language, though they have several words for canoodle. Still, given my experience, I thought my presence on one of the teams would be beneficiary. Chief Engineer, Fran Rumson, said that he would be more than willing to give up his position on the Commodore's team, but Johnny Junior was adamant about adhering to the predetermined team rosters. That little brat even went so far as to pull rank. "I'm the Commodore," he said. "My word is final." Who would have thought my dutiful tutoring would have produced such a pompous windbag.

Oh, I guess I can't fault Johnny Junior. He was following orders, something that he was never really good at before. Still, I would have liked to visit Mirald Prime. The Mirladese are renowned for their shoe making abilities and Miraldian footwear is very difficult to obtain.

I guess I could have had Johnny Junior pick up a pair for me, but God knows what monstrosities he'd come back with. Per military code, the group wore attire indicative of the Mirladian fashions, but the Commodore insisted on wearing a pair of white leather loafers with a large gold decorative buckle. He said they went well with his cane, which looked more like a parade conductor's ceremonial baton than a cane.

However, I do feel somewhat comforted by the fact that neither team had much success. Johnny Junior's team was required to set down in Mirald Prime's largest city, while 1st Mate Beck's team investigated a Mirladian jungle said to be home to an ancient Pygmalion tribe. I haven't spoken with the Commodore or 1st Mate Beck since their return, as I'm still moping in my quarters, but from what I heard on the grape vine things down there were not all lemons and oranges. In fact, it got down right nasty.

Whatever happened down there, all I can say is, "good." Serves them right for denying me my right to luxury footwear and being the envy of all women (and men who were once women) throughout the galaxy.