Made per request for ladynoirisback who suggested the idea.
=v=
Yawns rolled through the meeting room; several coming from night owl interns; others, from the generals who silently agree that its was too early for the present gathering. Dr. Ford stood at the front of the room beside the projector looking through the thickly packed binder in his hands, the man's thick glasses blanked out by the projector light making it impossible to read his eyes from a distance, his greying hair combed back half-hazardly showing how tired he was himself but not from the early hour.
"Why are we here Dr. Pines?" Demands the main general of the facility whose name escapes the sleep deprived mind of Dipper Pines. She rubs the inner corner of her right eye with irritation and boredom in the action.
Looking around the room, mainly the members around the table, there were important people. The main general and other higher ups of The Supernatural and Extraterrestrial Research Facility, the assistant general of Defense, fellow high ranking researchers, and one unfamiliar man with two others standing behind him. He seemed more awake than the others - maybe from the large coffee placed by his neatly folded hands.
Lucky bastard.
Stanford coughed into his hand at the general's attention, bringing everyone else to look at him. "Right, ah, of course." He sets down his binder on to the tabletop next to the laptop connected to the projector and picks up the projector remote. "Roughly a month ago," He began with a more professional tone. "One of our satellites intercepted a transmission of unusual qualities."
The general leaned forward in her seat minor curiosity in her expression. "A month?" She questioned. "Why have you waited a month to tell me about this Doctor?"
The other general and members eyed Stanford with agreement of the question. The stranger merely had a look of piqued curiosity, his cold blue eyes glancing from each unsurprised researcher evenly.
The man of attention clenched his hand around the remote tighter. "A-as I said, it was of unusual quality." He answered. "It wasn't until recently that we managed to translate it." With a quick flick of his wrist, Stanford activated the projector and an audio record played from the surrounding speakers. The voice was clear and firm if not a bit relaxed with whatever it was saying. When it finished, Stanford paused the recording before it could loop. "That is the original recording as, I'm sure, you can guess wasn't in legible english."
A cough was used to cover someone's comment of "no shit."
"What was it? It sounded almost French." The general spoke with more interest than before. "Or was it some dead language?" She had her hands entwined together against her chin.
Stanford adjusted his glasses back up his nose. "Nothing so simple, I'm afraid." He answers again. "It is a verbal code. A cipher."
The general's expression twisted to confusion, her mouth opened and shut for a moment. "How did you break this. . . cipher, then?" She asks slowly.
The elderly man coughed into his hand again. "Well thanks to the technology provided by Mr. Billion," he raised a hand to gesture to the blue-eyed stranger observing the members of the meeting, "we were able to pull full phrases from the recording with little issue to crack the code." He flicked his hand again and the projector switched screens to quoted words.
"Tgrqtv 020014
Vctigv eqphktogf. Oqxgogpv yknn dg ocfg. Tgxgncvkqp yknn uqqp dgikp. Ukip qhh, Dtqvjgt A."
From Dipper's perspective, the generals and the higher ups leaned forward on the table, squinting at the text in size fourteen font trying to make sense of the gibberish. Only the stranger, Mr. Billion, didn't appear to be phased by the words almost as if he could read it like English text. Being the one who assisted in helping pull the phrases into wording, it wouldn't be a surprise.
