After several weeks of space travel spent early-on rejoicing over their narrow escape and optimistically looking forward to great adventure, they have still not found any likely haven. The mood has turned much more somber.
Tigerwolf looks up from a display screen he has been hovering over nearly constantly since the trip began. He reaches up and rubs his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of his right paw.
"I sense you are troubled. Very much more so than usual lately. What's the matter?", Timgee asks.
"Every time I think I've got our location plotted, something in the sensor data says it's not right. I've checked everything over and over and its all working. Most of the stellar bodies are where they are supposed to be, but some aren't. And there are some extra ones every now and then where there shouldn't be any."
"So what do you think it means?"
"Either the Krell starmap information was wrong, or that was more than just a bumpy ride when we left Altair-4."
"What do you mean?"
"When the plasma wave overtook us and carried us along, we may have been swept through some spatial irregularity like a worm-hole or something. Since none of the instruments worked for a while, we had no way of knowing just what *was* happening. Either time was warped, space was warped, or both. I just don't know."
"So...the bottom line is I still have no idea where we are. Worse yet...if we are on the other side of a worm hole, all the Krell data we have to use to locate some inhabited, or even inhabitable, world is worthless."
"Looks like it may be a long trip."
"Yeah. And I'm beginning to think it's about time to start using some of our energy to power the distress beacon."
They gazed silently at each other for several minutes, each knowing what was the most likely outcome. Then, Timgee got up and walked to a nearby panel and turned on the beacon transmitter.
He said, somewhat rhetorically, "If we *are* in an alternate universe, d'ya think anyone will even recognize the transmission as a distress call?"