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“The sound isn’t originating from our communications systems, Captain.” Argot verified that fact.
“It isn’t impacting the Dauntless’s flight.” Drift, their pilot, kept the battle station on course.
Cure, their medic, raised his handheld. “The sound has triggered threat responses in us, but there are no other signs of damage to our forms.”
Strike ran noise-level scans on the entire vessel. “It’s loudest on the right side of the battle station.” That side faced the border. The border they vowed to protect. He shifted his weight from his left booted foot to his right booted foot. “Requesting authorization to modify the Dauntless’s trajectory 90 degrees to the west.”
“That path is clear, Captain.” Grid relayed information Strike already processed.
“Authorization granted.” Their leader didn’t hesitate to take his suggestion. That pleased Strike. “Drift, adjust your course.”
“Adjusting our course, Captain.” Their pilot made that modification.
Strike performed another set of noise-level scans. “The sound is now loudest at the front of the Dauntless.”
“It’s originating from outside the vessel.” Captain tapped his chin with his right index finger. “And also from outside the sector.”
That meant it was outside their responsibility.
“Is it a distress call?” Cure placed one of his hands on the medic pack set on the console before him. The male was prepared to respond to any request for assistance.
“If it’s a distress call, it’s unlike any I’ve ever heard.” Argot shook his head.
“It resembles…” Strike searched the databases for a corresponding sound.
“What does it resemble?” Intrepid gazed at him. “Give me your best projection.”
“There’s no exact match, but the variance to this is merely 2.1258 percent.” Strike played the audio recording.
Captain listened to it and then nodded. “That was my projection also.” Their leader recognized the sound.
As did every cyborg on the bridge. A solemness fell over the space.
“I can’t hear anything.” Argot’s female’s forehead furrowed.
“The frequency is above a human’s range,” the Valkyrie, her chosen mother, explained. “And it resembles the sound of an activated world-ender.” Captain’s female had lived longer than any of them and had fought battles all over the universe. She had identified the partial match. “The pulsing is coming from a weapon.”
“If it’s a weapon, it’s a different type.” Strike didn’t have enough inputs to label the source of the noise.
Choice, their engineer, nodded. “A 2.1258 variance is significant.”
“We’re being hailed by the Nimble, Captain.” Argot relayed that development.
The Nimble was the primary patrol battle station assigned to their section of border.
“Open communications.” Captain shifted in his chair.
The image of Requisite, the captain of the Nimble, appeared on the main viewscreen. “We’ve detected a pulsating sound. Have you detected it also?”
“We’ve detected it.” Intrepid shared that information with the male. “It’s originating from the border. The closest match in the databases is a world-ender.”
Requisite’s lips flattened. “That’s…not optimal.” A world-ender or equivalent weapon was a threat to everyone inside their sector. Not optimal was an understatement. “The Cyborg Council has to be informed.”
“A plan of action should accompany that communication.” The Dauntless’s captain gazed at the male. “What do you propose?”
“We both process you already have a plan of action, Intrepid.” Requisite rolled his eyes.
“The Dauntless is secondary patrol.” It irked Strike’s pride that their captain had to say that.
