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Saturday, March 15, 2014
“Kylax-ola, there’s a live transmission coming in for you.” The voice from the bridge is heard throughout the mess, where the ship’s eleven other crew members are gathered. The craft nearly flies itself but protocol requires one crew member on the bridge if they are on a mission. This would be considered a mission, of course. Unauthorized but a mission nonetheless.
“Can’t it wait? I’m in the middle of a meal.”
“It’s the UN Secretary General.”
“Oh all right. Have it routed here.” He looks around the table at his companions and says, “See? It’s me they call, not you.”
“Are you suggesting that interlocution is not worth it, Kylax?”
Kylax slurps his meat smoothie. “No, Zylan-dula. I am establishing . . .”
Beeping accompanies a flashing light in the console embedded in the arm of Kylax-ola’s seat. He raises his hand for silence. “To be continued.” Then he touches the flashing light. “Hello?”