Captain's log, Stardate 38325.3

Our research involving positronic brain functions in the Federation’s attempt to reproduce Doctor Soong’s work has been progressing…such as it is. We have brought on a team of Starfleet’s finest cybernetics engineers to assess and possibly map the brains patterns of a local species here in the Bulgar system. It would seem that the inhabitants of one of its planets, Bulgar 2, possess unique synaptic connections that largely resemble those of a positronic brain. The Bulgans themselves are an odd blend of the organic and “inorganic”. As if Mother Nature had decided to take up computer programming as a hobby. A few of the Bulgan have been beamed aboard to allow our scientists a closer look at their neural pathways. It should be noted that our universal translator has had some trouble with the Bulgar’s speech. What it ends up translating is a mixture of ancient earth profanities and an engineering text book. It had been difficult goings, such language is not heard openly on the decks of the USS Sagan, nor any other Starfleet vessel but it seems to be the main form of communication between the Bulgan’s themselves; along with a series of hand gestures that concentrate primarily on the middle digits of each hand. Many aboard our ship (mainly in the civilian population) have been quietly offended. The crew has taken it, as they do all things, in great stride. Perhaps our scientists will have better luck unraveling their neural mysterious than our translators have had with their language. We will be stationed here for the better part of a week so that the scientists can have access to the neural scanner in our sickbay and the positronic hyperspanner on loan from Starfleets advanced robotics department. After which we will return the scientist to the nearest star base and set course for Risa. My ship’s councilor and our chief medical officer have put it to me that the crew is in need of what humans call, “R&R”. I suppose a small rest would be in order after this venture. Apparently it has been so long since the crew has been given shore leave that my chief medical officer has made it an order, threatening to go above my head if, and I quote, “ (I) forget to get off this confounded ship once more because (I) spotted a shiny new nebula.” It would seem that the lack of recreation has taken its toll on the doctor, if nothing else.