Pearl Harbor, Azur Lane Base
July 14, 1942 – 08:00 AM
Infirmary
Vestal moved briskly between beds, clipboard in hand, tending to the bruised and bandaged Rookie Officers sprawled across the infirmary. Most of them were barely conscious after the incident in the Residential Zone a fistfight that should never have happened.
"Damn it... I almost had that guy," one of the rookies groaned, nursing a swollen cheek.
"Yeah, we're lucky this is all we got," another muttered, flexing his bruised knuckles.
"And who the hell was that guy in the Royal Navy Uniform anyway? Thought he was some kind of royalty."
"Same here..."
Vestal didn't even glance up from her clipboard. "You're lucky to still be breathing," she said flatly, checking names off her list.
The injured rookies paused, eyes turning to her.
"Why's that?" one of them asked.
"Yeah, what do you mean, Vestal?"
She stopped, then looked at them over her glasses with a sharp glare. "Those two Kansens you picked a fight with last week? They're not just 'modern.' They're from a Hyperpower."
"Wait, Hyperpower?" the bruised trio echoed.
"Correct. Not a superpower. Hyperpower. You fought USS Arizona and USS Jack H. Lucas. Those two don't just operate like front-line ships—they are front-line fleets by themselves. In fact, they can surpass most Flagships."
Silence.
She leaned closer, her tone darker now. "And you three dumbasses thought it was a good idea to throw hands with them."
All three gulped audibly.
Vestal continued. "Word of advice? Next time, don't touch someone's Boat. Especially not when it's at the presence of the Americans."
– America: Umm... excuse me–what?!!! –
The trio shifted awkwardly, eyes on the floor.
One whispered, "Why the hell did that idiot have to grope the Sakura girl? That's what started all this..."
"I thought we were just gonna gang up on someone and scare 'em off..."
"That bastard lied to me..."
"Freakin' idiot," the third grunted.
Vestal sighed deeply. "Next time you want to act tough, maybe pick a fight with a Manjuu first. At least they won't put you through a wall."
USNS William McLean – T-AKE 12
William sat slumped in a chair, teetering on the edge of sleep. His eyes were ringed with dark circles, and he clutched a half-full mug of coffee in his right hand like a lifeline. He'd been awake since the previous night, wiring up cables for a homemade satellite dish cobbled together from spare parts and sheer determination. All that was left now was to test if the damn thing worked.
Across from him, Langley pointed at the whiteboard filled with arcane formulas explaining the proper manipulation of a Wisdom Cube. Her voice was focused and crisp, but William's vision began to blur, her figure slowly warping in his sleep-deprived mind until she was replaced by a wild-eyed Charlie Day ranting in front of a conspiracy board.
Then the mug slipped.
The crash of glass hitting the floor snapped Langley out of her lecture. She turned quickly and saw William - finally asleep, slouched in his chair, breathing peacefully.
She sighed and motioned to a passing Manjuu. "Get me a blanket," she whispered.
The little creature waddled off and returned a few moments later with a folded wool blanket. Gently, Langley draped it over William's shoulders.
"Sorry you had to sit through all of that," she said softly. "You should sleep more often... Vestal's going to blow a gasket if she finds out you've been skipping rest again."
Langley stepped out of the superstructure and descended the gangway, closing the door quietly behind her. Outside, the morning sun was already heating the pier.
She barely made it halfway down before running into Vestal.
"Oh, Vestal," Langley greeted. "What brings you here?"
"I'm just checking in... making sure he's actually sleeping for once," Vestal said, her voice tinged with concern.
Langley glanced back toward the cargo ship, then looked back at her. "He's asleep. Finally. Out cold in his chair. He looked completely drained."
Vestal pressed her fingers to her temple. "Dear God... He didn't rest even a second after patching up USS Enterprise and USS Lucas, and now he's knee-deep in that satellite dish. I don't even know what it's for," she muttered in frustration.
Langley nodded. "He's doing everything he can in his role as an Auxiliary. I think... he just wants to help."
Vestal exhaled. Her tone softened. "Sure, but doing everything by himself? Without even taking care of his health? That's not helping—it's just self-destruction."
"Maybe talk to him more," Langley suggested gently. "He only really listens to Enterprise... and you."
Vestal raised an eyebrow. "Me?"
Langley smiled. "Yeah. So... talk to him. Next time, don't let him dodge it."
Vestal sighed again, but with a slight smile this time. "Fine. Next time I see him, he's getting ordered to take a break. No more negotiations."
Ever since the Sakura Empire's surrender, William had buried himself in work. Studying the salvaged tech from Siren Wrecks and clones. Laser Defenses, Shield Generators—fascinating, terrifying things. But it was the Siren portal that haunted him the most. No answers. No leads. Just sleepless nights and endless theories.
The Eagle Union and Royal Navy had jointly funded his research, with Enterprise herself greenlighting the project. But even with all their support, it was William alone who stayed up night after night, chasing secrets that refused to be revealed.
And the satellite dish? A mystery even to his allies. Assembled by Manjuus in a hidden hangar, it was a project no one fully understood - except for William. And he wasn't talking.
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Battlecruiser Hood
The Battlecruiser Hood sailed through the gentle morning waves, cutting across the ocean with regal grace. Seagulls screeched above, gliding in the salty breeze that carried the scent of the sea. Escort Ships flanked her on either side - among them, a single Modern Frigate, sleek and silent.
Its futuristic hull stood out starkly among the WWII-Era Vessels. Where the others were adorned with deck guns and towering masts, the Frigate was minimalist, almost alien in comparison a whisper among giants.
On the deck, Lafayette leaned over the railing, his gaze lost somewhere in the horizon. He wore a mix of old and new - a French naval coat styled with modern dress, like a 'man' torn between centuries. His mind, however, was far from the sea. Thoughts swirled-chaos, confusion, the sting of sudden transference. He wasn't ready to leave Hawaii, wasn't ready to say goodbye to the only war family he'd known.
A gentle, refined voice called him back from the fog. "Is something the matter, Sir Lafayette?"
He snapped out of his trance and turned toward the voice, blinking rapidly. Hood stood there, closer than expected, the golden morning light haloing around her figure. Regal and composed, she was the embodiment of Royal Navy elegance.
"Oh—sorry! You startled me," he said quickly, trying to play it off.
Hood offered him a gentle smile. "Is something bothering you?"
"Huh? Oh, no, nothing really. Just... surprised by my sudden transfer to the Royal Isle," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck.
'If what Arizona and Lucas said was true—that the Royal Navy is full of babes—I'm in serious trouble.' he thought, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple.
"Don't worry, Lafayette," Hood said warmly. "The girls in the Royal Navy will like you just fine. No need to be nervous."
"That's the problem," he muttered under his breath.
"What was that?" Hood tilted her head slightly, her expression curious.
"Ah - nothing! I just hope I don't cause any trouble with the Royal Navy," he replied quickly, trying to dodge the topic.
"Oh, I see..." Hood chuckled softly. "Well, don't worry. I'm sure you'll fit in perfectly with us."
"Don't worry, Big Brother! Unicorn will help you!" Unicorn added cheerfully.
Lafayette smiled and gently patted her head. "Thanks, Unicorn. That means a lot."
Just then, Laffey-459 chimed in from nearby. "Are we there yet?"
"Nope," Javelin replied with a light laugh. "We still need to cross the Panama Canal and the Atlantic Ocean. Then we'll be at the Royal Isle."
Dormitory – Dining Room
At the dining table, Arizona and Lucas sat across from each other, still brooding over Lafayette's sudden transfer.
Laffey-200 had sortied with the Cleveland Sisters for a strike on a major Siren Base in the South Pacific. The mission: neutralize it by any means necessary.
Arizona broke the silence. "Why the hell is he being transferred to the Royal Isles? He's gonna be tumbling around like a damn toddler there. I can already picture him screwing things up."
"I'm with you on that," Lucas added, scoffing.
Frigate Belfast, standing nearby, furrowed her brows at the two. "Simple," she said, placing their breakfast plates in front of them.
The two looked up from the table.
"Miss Enterprise doesn't want our main striking force divided. By sending him, we aren't diminishing combat strength. Lafayette's hunting grounds are the Atlantic. He thrives on hunting U-Boats and protecting convoys. Sending him to the Royal Isles won't hurt our current operations."
Her tone turned sharp. "But if either of you were sent there, you'd just cause trouble."
Both men immediately started sweating, exchanging guilty glances. The weekly hot topic? These two had apparently gotten into a brawl with a rookie officers in the Residential Area.
"Lucas," she said pointedly, "you'd be picking fights in pubs within a day."
Lucas shrank into his seat, making noises.
"And you—" Frigate Belfast turned to Arizona, "Her Majesty requested your presence for a task."
Arizona grunted. "Wish I could go solo. Just don't pair me with her."
Lucas raised a brow. "Bro, they say she's got legendary status - that's what the other maids say. Though I do wonder what kind of legend they're talking about."
Frigate Belfast suddenly looked uneasy. Too close to top-secret territory.
Arizona looked at Lucas like he'd been through hell and had a small glance at heaven. "Let's file that under classified, yeah?"
"What's with that? I mean, yeah, she's cold and harsh—but is there something I should know about your 'partner in crime'?"
Arizona didn't answer. He stood and left the table, heading toward the mission zone.
Lucas called after him, "Update me!"
Royal Navy Dorm
Sheffield, wearing her usual expression that seemed permanently tailored for disapproval, narrowed her eyes at the cigarette hanging loosely from Arizona's lips.
"A proper Royal Navy Officer would have discarded such a harmful object in the presence of Her Majesty," she stated flatly.
Arizona smirked, not even turning to face her. "Well... I am acting properly. I'm smoking behind her back, like others."
Without missing a beat, Sheffield snatched the cigarette and flicked it into the nearby trash can with sniper precision. "Compose yourself. The meeting is about to commence."
"Right..." Arizona muttered, dryly.
At the Royal Strategy Meeting – Inside Queen Elizabeth's War Room
Queen Elizabeth paced back and forth in front of a massive operations board, her small hands clasped tightly behind her back. Her expression was stern, her tone sharper than a saber.
"Listen," she began, "we're on the verge of catching a big fish. But to do that, we may need to catch the smaller ones first."
She stopped, turning on her heel and raising a gloved finger for emphasis. "So, we need all hands in this operation to catch this cunning Vixen! – making hole under my rule."
A silence followed. Arizona raised a hand lazily, not hiding the smirk on his face. "That might be a problem, ma'am. There are only two of us - which means we've only got four hands total to catch this Vixen."
Sheffield's sideways glare could have sliced steel – was directed at him. His blunt disrespect caught her attention.
Queen Elizabeth ignored the sarcasm and continued, her voice rising. "Semantics aside - I am aware of our limited manpower. That's why I'm assigning your team handling this act. You're to conduct this act - swift, clean, precise."
Arizona crossed his arms. "Yeah... no can do."
The Queen's voice thundered, slamming her palm on the table. "I'm asking for your compliance! I want all hands in capturing these moles and traitors - now!"
Warspite calmly stepped in, gently placing a hand on Queen Elizabeth's shoulder before she could leap across the table and strangle the American officer.
Arizona remained calm, completely unfazed.
"Would you mind?" he said, gesturing for the Queen to take a breath. "I've been watching them. The head's not on base. If we take out the branches and stems now, the roots will just sprout somewhere else."
Queen Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. "So you want to wait... until the head of the snake shows up?"
Arizona's grin was slow and dangerous. "Exactly. And when it does—I'm in charge of their arrest."
He leaned in, shadow casting over his face "The American way."
Sheffield stiffened, she knew what that meant. Bust through walls. Guns blazing. Arrest first. Search later.
Queen Elizabeth didn't need checks to knew what it means, the collateral damages that could occur at the operation could put a dent on her pockets – at such bill of the operating with explosives and brass.
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USNS William McLean (T-AKE 12)
3:00 PM
William dozed peacefully in his chair, head tilted slightly back, until a sudden beep from one of the computer screens broke the silence.
"Ack!" Vestal yelped, nearly dropping a rag as she scrubbed a messy desk nearby.
William's eyes blinked open. He groaned softly, rubbing his forehead, then glanced toward the sound. "V-Vestal...?"
Vestal looked startled, then gave a sheepish smile. "Sorry - didn't mean to wake you."
He sat up straighter, still holding his aching head. "What are you doing here? And... where's Langley?"
"She's at the university right now, teaching a class," Vestal replied gently. "You alright?"
"Yeah, just... exhausted. I haven't gotten much sleep lately."
"Here, have some water," she offered, handing him a glass. William gratefully took it and drank.
"How long have you been here?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "You looked like you were watching me sleep. Doesn't the base infirmary need you?"
Vestal shook her head. "Nope. The nurses and Manjuus have it covered. Most of my usual patients are just beat-up rookie commanders anyway."
"Lucky them." William sighed and stood up, stretching with a long groan. "I should get back to work."
"Wait! You should still rest," Vestal said, grabbing the edge of his lab coat.
He turned, meeting her concerned gaze. "This is important, Vestal."
Without waiting for her response, William stepped out of the room and headed toward the cargo hold. Vestal followed closely, worried about his condition. They passed through several bulkheads until they reached the cargo storage area.
In the center of the room sat a boxy device—metallic, bulky, with wires and connectors jutting out in all directions.
Vestal stared. "What... is that?"
William pointed at it. "Ever seen an analog computer in action?"
"Yes," she nodded. "I've repaired enough shipgirls to know my way around their ballistic calculators."
"Well, this thing puts them all to shame. It's what we call a supercomputer—faster, more efficient, and powerful."
Just then, a Manjuu drove up in a forklift, carefully lifting the machine while another Manjuu secured it with ratchet straps. The team worked with the precision of a well-rehearsed crew, making sure not to bump it on the way out.
Hangar
Inside the hangar stood a Massive Satellite Dish Round, Metallic, and almost comically large compared to most naval radars. Manjuus scrambled around it, connecting cables, powering generators, and assembling support structures.
Vestal's jaw dropped. "When you said 'dish,' I thought you meant a rotating radar. This looks like... an upside-down pot lid!"
William chuckled. "It's not done yet. Still gotta mount it onto the base." He pointed to a foundation built on a rail track.
She squinted at it. "Why a rail track?"
"So we can move it back into the hangar when it's not in use. Gotta protect it from the weather - and I'd rather not get soaked while plugging in cables," he added dryly.
Vestal let out a soft laugh. "Fair point. But how exactly do you plan to contact your world with this setup?"
William smirked. "Good question." He pointed to a metal table beside several computers. Sitting on it was a glowing Ultra-Rare Tech Box.
"That's my key."
Vestal tilted her head. "That thing? What does it even do?"
William shrugged. "No idea."
"You don't know?!" she gasped, baffled. "You're gambling this whole setup on something you don't understand?!"
"Yup," he said casually. "Miss Enterprise gave it to me and said, 'Just do it.' At least it's not an explosive this time."
Vestal groaned, face-palming.
In a quiet meeting elsewhere, Enterprise-80 and Code-G discussed their options. Enterprise asked how they could contact their home world. Code-G, who only appeared in dreams, hinted that a Wisdom Cube held the answer. She rarely showed up, and when she did, it was only when absolutely necessary.
The next morning, Enterprise-80 visited Adm. Nimitz. She requested a spare Wisdom Cube, explaining her purpose.
At first hesitant, Adm. Nimitz eventually agreed - after consulting higher-ups in the mainland Eagle Union. They approved her request and delivered the Wisdom Cube to William with a single message:
"This is our only key to Earth."
Later That Night – Hangar
Only desk lamps and overhead lights illuminated the hangar now. Manjuus worked tirelessly, connecting cables and organizing wires to keep everything tidy.
A large crane carefully lifted the satellite dish, lowering it onto its base. As it settled into position, Manjuus rushed in with tools, bolting the structure down with practiced efficiency.
"Is the programming finished yet?" William asked one of the Manjuus working on a computer nearby.
The Manjuu shook his head, eyes glued to the screen as he continued typing commands.
"I brought food," Vestal said, approaching with a tray in her hands.
"You didn't have to... but thanks," William said, accepting it gratefully.
She set down a large bag and opened it, revealing styrofoam containers. The Manjuus perked up, lining up as she handed each one a meal.
William watched her, then smiled. "Maybe a break isn't such a bad idea."
He joined her, handing out food to the Manjuus. Once everyone had eaten, they returned to work - recharged and ready.
Vestal sat beside William, her curiosity bubbling over as she watched the final cables being connected to the massive Satellite Dish outside.
"William... do you think it'll work?" she asked, her voice tinged with genuine concern.
"I don't know..." William admitted with a slight sigh. "This is my first time assembling a Satellite Dish - especially one this size."
Before Vestal could reply, a voice echoed behind them. "Is the Satellite Dish ready?"
They both turned to see Enterprise-80 walking in, accompanied by Adm. Nimitz, Adm. Philips, Yorktown, and Enterprise-6.
"Not yet," William replied. "We've just finished assembling it. Now we test."
"I see..." She flatly said.
The group stepped into the hangar, their eyes widening at the intricate web of cables, the streamlined supercomputer units, and the sheer size of the dish. Compared to the analog tech of the 1940s, it looked like something out of science fiction.
"So this is a Satellite Dish..." Adm. Nimitz said slowly, tilting his head up. "I expected something closer to our radar antennas."
William chuckled as he point his plastic spoon. "With all due respect, Admiral... this is far more efficient. It's built for deep space communication, not just pinging enemy ships."
Yorktown and Enterprise-6 found themselves drawn to one of the nearby monitors, where lines of rapidly scrolling code blinked in alien rhythm.
Manjuus on their seats, wings hovering over the keyboard in a click – clacking rhythm of highly-sophisticated programing. Their eyes never leaving the monitor screen of codes.
"What's with all these numbers and letters?" Enterprise-6 muttered, rubbing her temple. "I'm getting dizzy just looking at it."
"It looks like... some kind of codes?" Yorktown added.
William turned to them. "What you're seeing ladies are command codes. They control that dish," he pointed to the seating Satellite Dish. "so it can track and align itself automatically. No more climbing up in a storm just to calibrate it by hand."
"So it will work without human operating it?" Enterprise-6 asked.
"Not quite. You still need someone to operate it. It just makes things less deadly." He said in a tone of his humor.
"Alright, enough questions," William said, chuckling dryly. "I don't have a degree in teaching computer science - especially not in the 1940s."
The group shared a quiet laugh, humbled by the scale of what they were witnessing. The complication of science that didn't exist on their time.
William stepped forward, holding a box. "Now everyone gets eye and ear protection."
"Is this really necessary?" Enterprise-6 frowned, holding up her goggles. "We're just turning it on, right?"
"Enterprise!" Vestal and Yorktown snapped in unison.
William narrowed his eyes. "You got balls, Six. Want to go deaf and blind for the rest of your life?"
"Umm... no."
"Then be a good girl and put them on. The show's about to start." He said, a hint of frustration on his voice.
With everyone geared up, William gave the order. A Manjuu Operator tapped a button (the big red button) on the console. The massive Satellite Dish rumbled to life, slowly rolling out of the hangar on its rail cart, heading toward the open taxiway under the moonlight.
Enterprise-80 folded her arms, watching the operation closely. "What do you think about the outcome - if this fails?"
William kept his eyes on the dish. "Well... Outcome One: It explodes. Outcome Two: We send a message to the wrong planet. Outcome Three: Earth thinks it's an alien threat and nukes us – the standard procedures of US National Defense." He chuckled dryly.
The others stared at him, horrified. Those are not something you can just joke around with.
"Those were the scientific outcomes. Pick one."
Vestal's voice trembled. "Why do you sound so... casual about it exploding?"
William turned to her with a wry grin. "Let's just say Outcome One is our most likely scenario."
"Why's that?" Adm. Philips asked, leaning forward.
"This is our first time powering it up. Mistakes are bound to happen." He paused, then added with a sparkle in his eye, "Or worse."
Yorktown blinked, then suddenly perked up, as she remembers something. "Wait - should we invite Belfast? She's been dying to see this thing in action."
William's grin instantly flattened. His soul seemed to leave his body as he froze mid-thought.
The last time he messed up a delivery for Frigate Belfast, she literally choked him out for disappointing her.
Now, watching his latest project teeter on the edge of failure in front of her? That was basically a suicide mission.
"Umm... maybe... we shouldn't..." he muttered, pale as a ghost as a chill ran down his spine.
Enterprise-6 leaned toward Enterprise-80, whispering behind her hand. "Why is he sweating like that after hearing Belfast's name?"
Enterprise-80 whispered back, "She choked him out last time. Belfast hates failure. Let her keep cleaning the dorms - if she sees this disaster, he's dead."
Enterprise-6 whistled under her breath. "Damn. Your Belfast's scarier than mine."
Before they could continue, the hangar's intercom suddenly crackled to life, ordering all personnel to move behind the protective barriers. Everyone snapped to attention as a large monitor began a countdown.
*T-minus 10... 9... 8... 7... *
The Satellite Dish began to hum a deep, resonant sound as its massive frame slowly rotated toward the dark heavens – littered with stars. Cables lit up with a glowing blue hue, snaking out from the dish like veins carrying energy.
"This is giving me serious tesseract vibes," Enterprise-80 muttered as the bluish light intensified.
The two Admirals, unfazed, simply watched with hands behind their backs - expressions unreadable.
Admiral Philips murmured, "This feels like..."
"Kansenization," Adm. Nimitz finished.
*6... 5... 4... 3... 2...*
William stepped proudly into the open. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen—prepare to be amazed." He spreads his arms like Tony Stark at the opening of Iron Man.
Enterprise-6 immediately ducked behind Vestal, using the repair ship as a human shield.
Vestal sighed, "I am not paid enough for this."
The dish fired a brilliant beam of light into the sky, piercing the stars like a lighthouse in the void. The glow was so bright it could be seen across Oahu - an eerie, electric blue streaking across the night.
Then - BOOM.
One of the Power Generators exploded. The Turbine overheated its coils from power-surge.
"...or disappointed," he muttered, slumply lowered his arms.
Manjuus scurried into the scene, wielding fire extinguishers with military precision. Sparks flew. Systems failed. Smoke filled the air as the emergency shutoff kicked in, killing power across the array.
Everyone hit the deck.
William just stared at the Power Generator, now a twisted heap of metal and fried cables. "Well... shit."
Enterprise-80 stood slowly, brushing soot from her sleeves. "Is everyone alright?"
Yorktown peeked from behind her clipboard helmet. "We're okay... kinda..."
Enterprise-6 helped Adm. Philips off the floor. Vestal helped Adm. Nimitz. Both Admirals didn't audition to be in Michael Bay Movie as typical Military High-Rank extras.
"That was one hell of an explosion," Adm. Philips groaned, rubbing his back.
"Yeah," Adm. Nimitz grunted, "really puts the 'fire' in firepower."
As the smoke cleared, William carefully walked over to the wreckage and pried a Wisdom Cube out of the charred Generator housing. It glowed faintly, but a crack ran across one side, the other sides seems fine from the explosion.
Enterprise-80 approached, looking over the Wisdom Cube. "What just happened?"
William sighed, turning it over in his hand. "The Wisdom Cube's power output is way higher than we anticipated. One of those Power Generators could power a thousand American homes... but this thing? It could power a city. Maybe more."
"So what now?"
"We'll recalibrate the generator inputs. Adjust the flow. No more surprise fireworks."
Enterprise-80 gave a resigned sigh. "That's enough for tonight. It's already late. We'll resume testing next month."
William gave a lazy salute. "Yes, ma'am." He gently placed the damaged Wisdom Cube into a marked Tech Box Container.
Enterprise-80 turned to the visiting Admirals. "I apologize for the... dramatic display, Admiral."
"No need," Adm. Nimitz chuckled, rubbing his sore knees. "We've all had a few 'oops' moments."
Vestal stepped in, stern. "Sir, I think you need rest."
"Yeah... yeah, you're right."
After that massive 'Oppenheimer explosion'.
The hangar slowly emptied, the last embers doused, the systems powered down. Only William and a few crew stayed behind to clean and begin redesigning new blueprint for the Power Generators. He tried to protest when Vestal insisted he rest, but as usual, he lost that argument.
Enterprise-80 shelved this project temporarily for this year, they still need time and knowledge for this project to work. With the Sirens still pose a threat, contacting Earth would have to wait.
For now, William was reassigned to a darker projects, for the up-coming fight. A Weapon, something meant as a last ditch weapon against the kind of enemy that could shrug off a barrage of Torpedoes, Missiles, and Bombs.
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Back on Earth
U.S. Space Force Base
A Satellite Operator sat at his desk, running diagnostics. He took his job very seriously - well, as seriously as you could at 2AM with three energy drinks in your system. He's been observing the Satellite orbital formation through the monitor screen, orbiting the giant red planet.
His eyes widened when one of the satellites orbiting Mars suddenly pinged a loud, shrill alarm rang out as a signal burst through from deep space.
He stared at the monitor, blinking, rereading the data.
No origin point. Encrypted. Short. Powerful.
He snatched the red emergency phone and called his superior. The one responsible for the Operation.
"Umm... sir? I think... I think we just made contact with an unknown entity..."