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Beyond Reality

Beyond Reality

Uncharted Space - Stardate 2388.152

Drakkor drifted silently while its pilot took scans and gathered data.  SI-5 Director Torak had several operatives investigating a questionable area of the Morass Nebula.  As one of those operatives, Chirakis Kirel, had cut across uncharted space to investigate a certain debris field.  As was noted in the director’s report, the field spread across several parsecs and was dense enough to prohibit passage.  Scans within the field registered several starships of varied size and design.  All were built of a strange material and were of strange configuration.   The computer’s attempt to extrapolate possibilities regarding cause, origins, and various other parameters regarding these ships came up with nothing—not exactly a report that Director Torak would expect.   

Kirel relaxed against the pilot’s seat and stared into space.  She had wrapped up her investigation and report, and yet she felt compelled to stay in the debris field.  Watching the field drift through space piqued her curiosity.  Surely there were more questions to be answered, especially regarding the ships that could not be identified.  So she stayed to drift with the debris—quiet, solemn, and interesting.  

The soft ping of a proximity alarm drew her attention to an incursion just off her starboard wing.  Cutting all power, she watched a shuttle of strange configuration pass beneath Drakkor.  Eventually it turned and made another pass approximately two kilometers distant: much too close.  Its grid pattern seemed spoke of searching for something.  Several hours later the vessel left the area, leaving Kirel adrift and deep in thought. 

One hour became two as Drakkor continued to drift with the field, eventually coming to a Class-D planetoid that seemed to be inhabited. Finding no vessels in the area, Kirel maneuvered slowly and cautiously to investigate, yet she still knew not what urged her on.

The communication system crackled and a distant call, barely audible, came through: 

“Cuidigh liom, Eru.”

Interesting.  “Computer, scrub and replay.”

Compliance.  “Cuidigh liom, Eru.”


Translating.  “Help me, Eru.”


Terran Gaelic.

Gaelic? An ancient Terran language spoken within a distant nebula that was filled with undamaged drifting vessels that showed no signs of battle and was surrounded by a dense fog? 

“Computer, point of origin?”

Point of origin is Class D planetoid.  


One parsec.

Kirel powered up and took manual control to maneuver through the thick fog that grew more dense as they approached the planetoid.  Drakkor did not mind, nor did its master. In fact, the fighter seemed to come alive.  It was now entity that merged with her as they maneuvered toward the cry for help.  

The call for assistance continued, occasionally shifting from from Gaelic to Faroese,  then Frisian, and a few others that neither she nor the computer could decipher.  Kirel’s thoughts began to spin. She suddenly lost her focus: the reason for landing on the planetoid, her reason for being there, and her place in time.  Everything merged with the fog.  Nothing seemed rational.  Everything was out of place and out of time....

“Computer, current stardate.”

Twenty-nine eighty-seven point two one six.

A full examination of the console verified the computer’s response. 

She sighed.  “Computer, access local buoys for accurate stardate.”

The current stardate is twenty-nine eighty-seven point two one six.  The current date on Acetus I is the first day of Oergon in the year 1378.  The current date on….



“Computer, current Federation date, Sky Harbor Aegis relative.”

The third day of Augustus in the year twenty-three eighty-seven.

Her head began to spin….


A distant voice slowly parted the heavy mist.  She began to shake it off.

“Captain! Wake up!” 

Her eyes opened, but would not focus.  Her arms reached out for Drakkor’s control panel.  A hand firmly grasped her forearm, resulting in a black eye for Lt Garand who was trying to settle her down.  A cold, wet compress draped around the back of her neck.  Someone saying, “Hold her down.  In this condition she could be deadly,” brought her back to reality. She was completely awake, but thoroughly confused.

An hour ago Kirel had been reviewing intelligence reports in Aegis’s Security Complex and had fallen asleep.  Lt Garand found her leaning on a console and had been calling her name with no response.  He then called Sgt Nunez and Corpsman Meier and informed the Medical Complex.

“Captain, talk to me,” said Meier, checking her vital signs.  “It’s Meier, Captain.  Talk to me.”

After staring at the surroundings Kirel asked, “What is the current stardate, Lieutenant?”

Meier’s expression turned skeptical.  “The current stardate is 2388.152, ma’am.  Are you alright?”

After a deep breath and a slow exhale, she nodded. “I am now, Lieutenant.  I am now.”

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