Gravity is very high this morning, but I have finally prevailed against it. And as soon as I have the strength to put on pants, I will be taking the dog out and then commencing deathmarch.
My technical problem for this morning is how to make a scene, which any television writer would dispense with by showing a glimpse of the Bridge of the Enterprise rattled by incoming photon torpedos, Uhura pitching in the opposite direction, actually do enough narrative work to justify its existence.
And then Tristen gets to kick some ass and take some names.
Except he forgot his pen.