Planet COVID- This turbulent odyssey continues. Now into our seventh month in this stark part of the universal’s domain, a second rise in coronavirus cases means Bones is working 39 hours a day, or at least that’s what he’s claiming on his overtime form.

After displaying COVID symptoms, Spock binge watches US drama Desperate Housewives in self-isolation. My Science Officer being laid low by this rancid pathogen identifying, in addition to dry cough, high temperature and loss of taste/smell, there’s a further indicia to contracting the virus.

This new sign manifesting in the rounding of the undemonstrative Vulcan’s trademark pointy ears and eyebrows….. A real boon for the leprechaun community, who live below stairs, cooking the crew’s splendid cuisine…… Well, it is if you like stew.

Scotty’s been understandably thorough during our existence upon this surreal landscape. Consequently, anyone being beamed back to the Enterprise is having to quarantine for a fortnight before being allowed access back onto the Bridge.

Although, anecdotally I’m told my Caledonian engineer’s prepared to turn a blind eye, but it’ll cost the returning crew member a bottle of single malt whisky.

Sulu, a man with more integrity than the scotch soaked Aberdonian, has spent the last two weeks in isolation after refusing to buckle to Scotty’s self-serving bribery.

Our Japanese engineer appears demoralised after his lockdown, but at least his bulk procurement of 5,000 toilet rolls and 800 bottles of hand sanitiser when away from the Enterprise will serve the crew well….. Especially if confronted by Klingons.

Uhura, a stoic woman whose translation and communication skills prove invaluable when engaging the leprechauns in conversation, exhibits her usual composure during these unprecedented times. Despite her trademark calm, though, she’s recently raised concerns of Chekov’s unwanted advances. Infringements she claims breach social distancing and harassment protocols.

Chekov denies any wrong doing, claiming he’s been nothing but a friend to our Communications Officer. A boast backed by the revelation he regularly undertakes the collection and washing of Uhura’s laundry. Although, for some reason, he’s asked me not to divulge this washing bombshell to his fragrant colleague.

Within the last minutes I’ve returned from a meeting with Dr McCoy. A confrontational half hour, during which Bones complained about the lack of Personal Protective Equipment (PPE) at his disposal.

The doctor going onto inform me he’s no longer prepared to work a 39 hour day unless I resolve this logistic incompetence post-haste. I pointed out to the fraudulent medic that if he withdraws his labour I’d be forced to have him court-martailed for false expense accounting.

Bones finally calmed down after I bought him a Toffee Crisp bar, along with finally returning the Jack Savoretti CD I’d borrowed last Easter.

Understandably, crew morale is incredibly low during this enduring universedemic. I’ve sought to gain permission to return to Earth but, as our home is facing a whole bunch of issues, have been told to keep away for the Enterprise resident’s sanity.

It’s election time in the USA and apparently they’re not accepting postal votes due to fears of ballot rigging, so it looks as though the Enterprise team and me will be able to vote for the Republican Party…… Hold on a minute, strangely, I’ve just heard the GOP have relented and said we can now vote. Well, all apart from rabble-rousing progressive liberal Sulu.

These are dark times for the universe. COVID, talk of US election rigging, along with rioting and the recent theft of Lt Leslie’s Connect 4 board game painting a bleak overall existential landscape.

As a child in Canada, I often looked at the stars while drinking a Tim Horton’s coffee under a maple tree. Dreaming one day I’d be able to travel into outer space, residing in a place where I’d not be stampeded by spooked Elk and Moose.

Achieving that aspiration in a state of utter underwhelm, I’ve gotta say I wish I’d have become a monorail driver like my childhood buddy Ryan. Space the final frontier? …….. Give me edging into Montreal monorail station anytime!!

Despair in outer space