The executive officer flipped on the’ vision screen and the interior of the flagship’s communication room was revealed.
“Sorry to bother you, sir,” said the tech whose image appeared on the screen, “but a message just came through on the emergency band.”
“What does it say?”
The tech looked uphappy. “It’s coded, sir.”
“Well, decode it!” barked the executive.
“We can’t,” said the technician diffidently. “Something’s gone wrong with the decoder. The printer is pounding out random groups that don’t make any sense at all.”
The executive grunted his disgust. “Any idea where the call’s coming from?”
“Yes, sir; it’s coming in on a tight beam from the direction of Base. Must be from a ship emergency rig, though. Regular hyperspace transmission isn’t directional. Either the ship’s regular rig broke down or the operator is using the beam to keep anybody else from picking up his signal.”
“Get to work on that decoder. Call back as soon as you get any results.” The tech saluted and the screen went black.
“Whatever it is, it’s probably trouble,” said Krogson morosely. “Well, we’d better get on with this job. Take the fleet into atmosphere. It looks as if we are going to have to make a visual check.”