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Hangover

Posted on 03/23/2020 @ 7:43pm by Captain J'Radk & Commander Beldin

Mission: Course Interupted - Destination Cyrga
Location: Orbiting Cyrga
Timeline: SD 242003.23

The last time Beldin’s head hurt this much was after a very long extended binging of Romulan Ale, which never agreed with him anyway. His teeth even hurt.
“Report,” came the moaned voice of the Whitestar XO, T’Albert.
Through slightly focused eyes, Beldin noted the CO of the Phoenix Guardian, J’Radk, was slowly, and seemingly painfully, crawling to a nearby console. “Nuqjatlh the ghe'tor 'e'? (What the hell was that?).
“I would like to know, myself,” Beldin replied with a grimace, grabbing onto a railing. It felt like needles pushing through his body, and he knew there was no way for him to morph into anything at the moment.
T’Albert was sitting in the center chair with head between knees. “I said, report,” his voice was hoarse.
“All systems nominal, Captain. No reports of damage from any deck.”
J’Radk had finally reached a console. ++COMM++ “J’Radk to Phoenix, report.” Even the effort to speak hurt.
++COMM++ “Phoenix Guardian, here. No damage, Captain. No apparent injuries to report, but we sure have felt better.
++COMM++ “Acknowledged,” J’Radk answered. “Maintain alert status. Contact fleet. Report status to Whitestar. J’Radk out.” He looked at T’Albert and Beldin, “If I could throw up, I still wouldn’t feel any better.”
Beldin attempted to smile, unsuccessfully, then he blinked. “Admirals Korin and Cerywyn? “
T’Albert turned the OPS station, wincing. “Locate!”
The Operations officer, one eye closed tight, as he focused on the console. He rubbed his eyes as information appeared on his screen. “Neither is on board. Expanding search.” After a moment, “Found them. The admirals are located on a structure dead ahead.”
“On screen,” ordered T’Albert.
The main viewer shimmered to reveal a very large structure suspended in space. “What the…,” started J’Radk. “Cyrga,” finished Beldin, as his turned to puzzlement. “How in the hell did we get here?”
“Here?” asked J’Radk. “Where is here?”
Beldin turned both J’Radk and T’Albert. “We’re deep into the Delta Quadrant. Beyond the furthest reach of the Klingons, Romulans, or Federation.”
“And what is Cyrga?” asked T’Albert.
Beldin turned back to the main viewer. “That is Cyrga. A very big, very sentient station. Other than that, you’ll have to ask Admiral Cerywyn. From what I gather, they’re good buddies.”
“Captain,” shouted the Tactical officer, “Sensors have picked up a large ship in bound on an intercept course.”
“Sir,” added Communications, “We are being hailed.”
“On screen,” ordered T’Albert.
When the image of a human appeared on the screen, Beldin was first surprised, then he grinned. “Boyington?” ++COMM++ The man smiled. “Hello Beldin. Where’s Korin?”

 

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