Star Date: Glamorouse anniversary -26 days and counting

CaptainGlamorouseBec’s Log: Post#638; Visit#20839.

The ship’s crew are quiet after another double shift. The damage from last week’s alien arrival is slowly being repaired and it’s all hands on deck until we manage to fully restore order.

The Tiny Alien herself is very little trouble; small, even for her race; attractive in a quirky, furry kind of way, and a relatively neat eater (although voracious at meal times, her stomach remains small and we should have enough supplies to last her through this growing phase).

Best of all, she seems to be naturally drawn to the waste disposal facilities onboard ship so there has been very little mess to further distract the crew. It has been a huge chore to get the crew to stop petting the little alien for long enough to perform their normal functions, and I admit she sometimes draws my own attention with her playful nature, her pretty silver stripes and inquisitive green eyes.

No, the new beast itself is manageable, and even quite endearing when she snuggles under the chin and purrs.

It’s the effect on the Aliens In Residence that’s been most troubling.

Large Alien has commenced weeping in the very early mornings as a way of seeking the attention she obviously feels she misses during the rest of the day and evening. If it weren’t bad enough that we are currently orbiting a winter planet with short days and cold mornings, now my Captain’s duties including placating the Large Alien with extra long space walks so she can fetch even more asteroid fragments and (hopefully) defecate on someone else’s trajectory.

Medium Alien has undoubtedly had the worst reaction, possibly because he has the closest genetic links to Tiny Alien. First he disappeared to the ship in a neighbouring orbit for several days, then returned having gained about an extra third on his original body weight. He hisses and howls at Tiny Alien and – astonishingly – will turn tail and run if the wee beast comes too close to him. Maybe some strange power is alotted to the little one that our sensors cannot detect?

He has returned tonight and appears to wish to make amends in his strange alien way. His by now enormous bulk has been hoisted up to my desk and he is attempting tofind a comfortable position draped over my arms as I type. StarNote: speak to Scotty about converting excess escape pods into Alien Containment Vessels.

The ship tells me it is time for bed, and I must go if I am to direct this hodge podge through another day tomorrow; when I will return, with holograms.

Space: The Final Frontier.
The New Kitten: The Final Straw. We’re now officially looking for a bigger house.