While the productivity level on the B.S.S.S Venture continues to dwindle, Prik and Spork still find themselves confined to the cell. Spork has been repeatedly hurling Prik against the force field to try and break through it, but the captain is only getting sick of the constant electrocution, with no apparent damage inflicted on the field . . .

"Ow!" shouts Prik finally, as everything he touches sends out a shock of electrical energy.

"Interesting," muses Spork.

"Is that all you can say?" Prik mutters under his breath as he rises to his feet, little blue sparks flashing beneath the claws of his hind feet. He looks warily at the force field.

"Why no, Captain. I don't know why you would say that. Even as I answer you, I am saying something other then 'interesting,'" replies Spork.

"That was a rhetorical question, Spork."

"Interesting."

"Spork!"

"Yes, Captain?"

"We've gotten nowhere. If I only had a phaser maybe I—" he is cut short by Spork.

"Well, I have one, Captain," Spork says as he takes the weapon out of the holder on the wall with a sign reading "For break out use only" hanging over it.

"Why didn't you say so sooner, Spork? We could have been out of here hours ago!" exclaims the captain.

"Why, Captain, you didn't ask. If I may inquire, what use would a phaser be to us since we are currently locked in a cell?" asks Spork.

Prik looks confused. "Why, Spork, your Vulgar—"

"Vulcan."

"—ears betray you. I thought that everyone knew that by shooting a phaser on the opposite frequency of the force field directly at it disables the barrier."

Spork hangs his head. "I'm sorry, Captain. I must have misplaced that knowledge in my inward fight against the Squirrel Collective."

"That's okay, Spork. We are both battling the effects. Now, why don't we get out of here?!" Prik makes some adjustments on the phaser's power settings and aims it at the force field. Gripping the weapon in his rodent paw, he pulls the trigger and a red beam shoots out from the end of the phaser and strikes the force field. The field flickers and then collapses.

"Int—" Spork begins.

"Spork..." Prik says, eyeing his officer.

"—riguing," Spork finishes.

"Very good," the captain, says, not fully grasping the concept of synonyms. "Now, Spork, we must get out of here before the field repairs itself."

The two Star Society officers quickly run out of the doorway and into a room with openings to similar cells around its walls. To their left, there is a single passage leading into the room. "To the Venture!" Prik shouts with his right claws pointed in the air and runs to the right.

"Excuse me Captain," Spork ventures. "The Venture is that way." He pints to the left.

Prik stops and then turns around, looking at Spork suspiciously. "Oh, right." He raises his arm even higher and with renewed enthusiasm. "To the Venture!" Prik runs out of the door with Spork following closely behind.

"I wonder how we get to the transporter room," Prik questions out loud. Spork shrugs.

"It's down the hall to the right," a passing squirrel soldier says.

"Thanks," replies Prik, confused by the other squirrel's friendliness. "That was strange," he comments.

"Not really," replies Spork. "You see, Captain, the squirrel drones still think that we are part of their collective. It was just a comment meant to help out a comrade."

"Thank you, Spork," Prik says, exasperated by Spork's never-ending knowledge.

"Captain, here's a door," observes Spork as they continues their walk down the hallway at quite a leisurely pace, given the circumstances.

Prik looks around in bewilderment. "So?"

"Shall we go in? It says 'transporter room' on the door."

"Oh right." The two officers walk inside. "I'll contact the Venture and have them beam us aboard," Prik says in one of his rare helpful moods.

"Very well, Captain," Spork replies, eyeing the transporter equipment disdainfully.

"Spork!" Prik exclaims suddenly, "I'm not getting a response. Do you think something has happened to them?"

"They are probably just distracted by hard work, Captain. Keep trying and I'm sure we'll get through eventually," Spork soothes.

"Well, we better, because it far past the time for my tri-weekly hair treatment."

------------------------------------------------

Captain's Log: 7.20.2401

Spork and I have finally managed to escape the clutches of those foul squirrels. I guess that doesn't make much sense to put it that way, since "fowl" is a term for birds, and we all know that squirrels aren't birds. It's really obvious that they are vegetarians. How could something like that be mistaken? They don't eat birds! Anyway, Spork and I have made it to the transporter room safely and are awaiting a response from the Venture so we can beam aboard. It's been quite a trying ordeal being a squirrel, and I am looking forward very much to a getting this suit off and taking a nice long herbal soak in my jet tub. Oh, how I miss its cleansing bubbles! I do hope that the Venture has not fallen into too much disrepair in my absence, but I doubt Spotty would let that happen. How good it will be to get back! I wonder how my hair is underneath this squirrel suit...