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| - Ch'Morgh grumbled, chewing on the last remnants of the gagh in his mouth and reaching out for another handful. It had been his staple diet for three weeks now, since Kreg's Age of Ascension celebrations when most of the foodstock had been swiped. Apart from the gagh, there was gladst, and that didn't look particularly appetising either. Thankfully there was still an ample supply of bloodwine to wash it all down with, bringing a smirk to Ch'Morgh's face, making him bear his half-sharpened teeth to the dim lighting in the officer's mess. "On my way, Kreg." "Glory to the Empire!"
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| abstract
| - Ch'Morgh grumbled, chewing on the last remnants of the gagh in his mouth and reaching out for another handful. It had been his staple diet for three weeks now, since Kreg's Age of Ascension celebrations when most of the foodstock had been swiped. Apart from the gagh, there was gladst, and that didn't look particularly appetising either. Thankfully there was still an ample supply of bloodwine to wash it all down with, bringing a smirk to Ch'Morgh's face, making him bear his half-sharpened teeth to the dim lighting in the officer's mess. His brooding was cut short by the com panel, which caught his attention sharply, making him sit bolt upright - or about as close as he could get. Kreg's ever deepening voice boomed through moments later. "Captain, sensors has picked up a distress beacon in our vicinity, but we have detected no vessels." Ch'Morgh sighed. This was a bad time to be interrupted - not least because he still had half a bottle of bloodwine left to drink. Unfortunately, there wasn't much he could do. "On my way, Kreg." Pushing down on the table, he scrambled to his feet and almost drifted sideways in a haze, knocking over an adjacent stool. Bottle of bloodwine in hand, Ch'Morgh dragged himself through the wide exit and into the corridors, acknowledging two crewmembers with a wave of the bottle. Staggering at last onto the bridge, he belched, causing all present to turn around and salute. "Glory to the Empire!" Well, he thought, that's the proven way to get their attention. Grunting his acceptance of the crew's salute, he waved the bottle once again and his crew turned back to their work. Finding Kreg, the captain joined the junior officer on the lower part of the bridge and looked at the monitor in front of him. "Captain, you may be better off looking at my station," said Kreg. Huh? thought Ch'Morgh. Peering closely at the monitor in front of him, he realised that he was looking at engine control. ghuy'. Shifting sideways, he watched as Kreg tapped out a few commands and a triangular-shaped grid formed over the background. The Taj appeared in the centre of the screen, and a small white dot did the same towards the bottom right of the display. "The beacon is automated, sir, and it has a Federation signature. It is here" - Kreg pointed at the white dot - "in grid 3647, near M'Char." "Have you detected any other ships?" "No sir. Nothing else in the vicinity." "Then it rules out short-range vessels..." Ch'Morgh took a swig of his drink and sat on his seat. Hoping that this small mission wouldn't take long, he gave his orders. "Navigator, set course 219-mark-8, warp six." "Yes, sir," came the sharp reply from the rather bulky Klingon sat in front of him.
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