taxonomites | 032 ━ [ visual ] / [ location: uss enterprise ].

Like many others in the city, Kirk had heard the transmission, too. He hadn't expected the antique radio (it was antique to him) he'd purchased at the mall to do more than decorate his desk and had been startled to hear what had come out of it. Now, he was hard at work on attempting to trace the signal. Give that it wasn't on the usual frequencies that he had the ship's computer programmed to keep an eye on, he was having to do some adjusting. The radio signals of Earth's past were obsolete, weak-- but he could get it work. It just required a few calculations.

The tablet turns on to show him doing precicely that. He circles one equation with the stylus and drags it up to sit next another, tapping the space the equation used to be twice to bring up schematics for the ship's sensors. The tweaking of the systems wasn't what was bothering him. It was the fact that he hadn't understood a word of what had been said. He was fluent in a multitude of languages, including those spoken on Earth and most major languages of the Federation. He'd used trying to get into Uhura's pants as an excuse to take that many linguistics classes and be part of the linguistics club, but the truth was he liked languages-- nevermind being able to speak an alien tongue or two (or twelve) made a ship's captain look more self-sufficient and made him less reliant on his translators during negotiations and confrontations.

Noticing the tablet, he set the stylus down and grabbed it instead. "Tell me, Taxon," he said directly to the screen, "did any of you understand what the radio transmission said?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Analysis had always been what Spock did best and he was loathe to admit defeat, but the odd transmission seemed to be frustratingly avoiding answers on purpose. It didn’t help that the only sensors he had to work with weren’t tuned for the kind of work they needed done on it. And, really, it had been a miracle that Spock had been there to hear it issuing from the antique sitting on the captain’s desk with no prompting or reason whatsoever.

Both content and origin of the message were important to discover. If there was some way they could communicate beyond the bounds of the city…

“Among current residents, captain, it is unlikely that there exists any individual that would have understood any of the transmission.”

He almost found himself remarking on how he wished Lieutenant Uhura was still here, but his sense of tact was thankfully still in working order and he refrained. After what had gone down with the zombies, he imagined that the last thing Spock needed was a reminder that his girlfriend wasn't here. That reply was thus swallowed in favor of something else.

"What about pulling up the known languages in the ship's database and running the transmission against them to see if there's any possible match ups?" It was likely Spock had already done this with as efficient as he was, but it didn't hurt to suggest.

Spock had indeed already run the transmission through every database that he could think of that might possibly have been some use. Without realigning the communications grid to track the frequency of it, there was little else that he could do, and the captain seemed to have that quite well in hand.

"The broadcast does not match any language currently known to the Federation."

He'd figured as much, and he sighed in irritation. The ship's database was extensive and his own multilingual fluency was impressive, but that was nothing when it came to having a trained linguist on board who could've possibly already been working on pulling at the bits of language and trying to assemble them into something tangible.

"Any other ideas, Mister Spock?"

Spock hated to have to admit defeat, but as things stood, it was rapidly approaching that point. With the tools they had at their disposal, there was little else to be done that hadn't been already. It was more than they would have been able to do on their own without the computers, but it still didn't feel like anything close to enough.

"Without the assistance of a Starfleet linguist, I am afraid that there is nothing else that can be done that has not been done already.

Kirk nodded in agreement, not trusting himself to say anything more on the matter. He didn't want Spock to think too hard about that which was lacking in Taxon, namely Uhura. If Vulcans even did so in regard to absent attachments. Better safe than sorry, even if it was awkward being respectful of the emotions of a being who was half that which prided themselves on having none-- or, at least, displaying none.

"What about the signal itself?" He asked, drawing focus away from what the transmission said to the transmission itself. "Is it traceable?"

"With the appropriate adjustments to the computer's calibrations, I believe that it may be." It wasn't anything complicated after all if the antiquated radio technology around the city had managed to pick it up. The signal had to be coming from somewhere, even if it had been spontaneously generated. There was always an origin, a starting point, a beginning. The puzzle was simply in finding it.

"I was starting to do that," Kirk tapped a finger on the glass-like pane where he'd been working out the necessary calibrations. "Might need to double-check my calculations. I'm no mathematician."

...why Kirk, hiding the brains from Spock? He was an instructor at the Academy. No doubt he was already aware of how intelligent you really are, but whatever, carry on with your delusions.

Whether or not Jim was hiding his genius, it never hurt to have a second set of eyes to go over long sets of equations to eliminate--or at least lessen--the possibility of errors, and Spock simply nodded, somewhat distractedly, only realizing afterwards that it might be somewhat too vague a gesture, and giving a verbal response as well. "Once you have finished, I will do so."

"Nah, go ahead," he picked up the stylus from where he'd dropped it, handing it over to Spock. "Show me what you got."

Informal instructions, but he wasn't exactly in uniform.

Not so surprisingly, there wasn't that much to adjust, as Spock sorted through calculation after calculation. He nodded once when he had finished and handed the stylus back to the captain.

"I believe that should allow the computer to trace the signal's origin."

Kirk stepped around his first officer to survey the work, though he had no doubt it was done to as perfect of a T as the Vulcan could manage. This was merely a formality.

"Excellent work, Mister Spock."

At the compliment, Spock simply nodded once, and returned to his analysis. He hadn't been able to make it make much sense, but it was only a matter of time. And it would have gone much faster if they had someone with some kind of linguistics background...

"If location can be determined, it is entirely possible that the transmission itself can be decoded and translated."

032 ━ [ visual ] / [ location: uss enterprise ].

[Location : USS Enterprise]

[Location : USS Enterprise]

[Location : USS Enterprise]

[Location : USS Enterprise]

[Location : USS Enterprise]

[Location : USS Enterprise]

[Location : USS Enterprise]

[Location : USS Enterprise]

Re: [Location : USS Enterprise]

[Location : USS Enterprise]

[Location : USS Enterprise]

[Location : USS Enterprise]

[Location : USS Enterprise]