With a relaxed sigh, Heselton leaned back to gaze at the stars and contemplate the vastness of the universe, compared to which even Big Joe was an insignificant dot.
"Well," said Rogers, "time for another course check. I'll ..." He jumped back, barely avoiding the worried lieutenant who exploded upon them from the radio shack.
"A signal, sir! Damn close, on the VHF band, their transmission is completely overriding the background noise." He waved excitedly to someone in the radio shack and an overhead speaker came to life emitting a distinct clacking-grunting sound. "It's audio of some sort, sir, but there's lots more to the signal than that."
In one motion Heselton's chair snapped forward, his right fist hit the red emergency alert button on his desk, and his left snapped on the ship's intercom. Lights dimmed momentarily as powerful emergency drive units snapped into action, and the ship echoed with the sound of two thousand men running to battle stations.
"Bridge to radar! Report."
"Radar to bridge. All clear."
Heselton stared incredulously at the intercom. "What?"
"Radar to bridge, repeating. All clear. Admiral, we've got two men on every scope, there's nothing anywhere."
A new voice cut in on the speaker. "Radio track to bridge."
Frowning, Heselton answered. "Bridge. Come in radio track. We're listening."