Mirald Prime, Team Ozzie. Part 2/4

Personal Log. Chief of Security, Fran Rumson. 04.10.3001.

I am forced to type in my log because my face feels like pudding. Ironically, that is one of the few things I'm still able to eat. Pudding. I prefer vanilla.

Today was the first away mission for me in over six years. And now I look like a British Bulldog. My skin is so loose I can pull my cheeks up over my eyes. Dr. Leary said he could get me back to normal with some simple cosmetic surgery after the swelling went down.

Our mission was to observe the Miraldese and take note of their culture. Being a member of the UIN Armada for over fifty-two years, I realize a crock mission when I see one. Culture observation is just a way for new crew members to wet their wick. Nothing to get your britches in a bunch. Not like having your scrotum removed by an Arcadian Torture Officer.

When we landed I was afraid that we would stick out like a virgin in a whore house, what with the Commodore's exotic attire. I felt like it was Mardi Gras and he was the Grand Marshal of Ceremonies. However, Communications Officer, Mao Ling taught us a Miraldian phrase that seemed to appease anyone who eyed our appearance. "Chi und po-dunk", which is similar to "We're from France."

We boarded a transportation system much like Earth's subways only the Miraldese use a vacuum tube to propel capsules about the city. It's similar to the message delivery chutes once used in old, large office buildings. Air pressure pushes the capsules through the plastic tunnels.

Ped Varook, having visited Mirald Prime before, suggested the tubes to traverse the city quickly. What we didn't know is that the Miraldese, along with Varook's Cretian people, though similar in physiology to humans are more resilient under intense G-Forces. What is a normal pressure force for the Miraldese is potentially threatening to humans.

I swear, when our pod kicked into gear, I could feel my face splayed out against the back of my seat. My testicles pushed into my gut so hard, I thought they were going to pop out my ass. Lucky for me I was wearing my adult diaper. I can't say as much for the Commodore.

I think it was after he ripped one that he drew his stun gun and fired into the controls of the capsule. The result was a pod pile up and one constipated vacuum chute.

When we tried to duck out during the confusion a group of curious onlookers stood in our way. I thought our goose was cooked, but suddenly their eyes rolled to the back of their sockets, heads turned towards the sky and the Miraldese let loose a high, piercing chortle. I'm not sure what the hell was going on, but they all appeared incapacitated by this behavior. Whatever had caused it probably saved our ass.