Bits and Pieces

Patiently, Ambition waits in a chair with a tumbler of whiskey on ice, one sip remaining.

Airy is just waking up from her nap, and she pulls herself up to sit on the edge of the bunk, rubbing her eyes wearily.

Jared is lounging in the ward room as well, waiting too. The forward hatch cycles open, and the Jackal's pilot steps in, ducking her head just a bit. Swiftfoot blinks, and grins at the three already in attendance. "Don't tell me, you'rre all waiting on me, meh?" the Demarian says, chuckling.

"Actually we were," Ambition says, smirking. He finishes the last sip of his whiskey and rises, walking towards the kitchen. "I availed myself of your liquor stock. I hope you don't mind."

"I just woke up." Airy says a bit blearily. "What time is it...?" She's stopped by another massive yawn, stretching her arms over her head.

Jared flashes a smile at Swifty, "Yeah we kinda were." He says, glancing over to Airy as she stirs, "Ready for some fun?" he asks her.

Swiftfoot flicks an ear and shakes her head. "Not at all. Plenty of liquorr wherre that came frrom. Not like it's in shorrt supply orr anything." She glances at Airy, tilting her head to the side. "It's a little afterr eight. I apologize forr being late. It was not my intent to keep you waiting. I got... sidetrracked," she explains, shifting her gaze back to Ambition. "So, what's the plan? I'm guessing we should get underrway forr Waldheim soon, in any case."

Ambition nods. "Not at all. We'll take the liquor against the delay and call it even." He sends an impish smirk over his shoulder as he sets the tumbler in Jackal's sink, turning to rest the heels of his hands on the counter. "As I explained to the rest of the crew, the mission is the same as what I brought you in for: electronic data retreival. However, I've decided that the best means to do this will be to rewire a data communications relay in Waldheim's star system to accept traffic from the Jackal as it would a member of its trusted network, like another comm relay, a transmission wrapped in government packets, or a technician from the company that maintains it. Then we'll go out to the edge of the system and play dead beyond sensor range while I use Jackal's computer to access what I need to access. This will ensure that my electronic tinkerings will go untraceable no matter what happens, and the trusted nature of my access point should make it easier to break through the datanode, since all previous attacks on my target have come from outsystem."

Getting to her feet, Airy stretches and gives another yawn, then meanders over to the kitchen, looking for something to drink.

Swiftfoot blinks and flicks an ear, rubbing her paws together. "Sounds like fun. My knowledge of electrronics is rrudimentarry at best, so if you'rre not going out as well, I'll definitely need you to walk me thrrough it." The felinoid mrrls softly, quirking an eyeridge. "Arre therre any potential difficulties we should be awarre of beforre we set out?"

Ambition frowns. "Well, there's the possibility that spending an undue amount of time next to a communications relay will arouse suspicion. Some amount of speed will be required." His eyebrows raise. "Ah, by the way. It will be necessary to make us appear to be under a mechanical failure that requires EVA to repair - as a cover, just in case. Although I believe it will be my side of the bargain that'll be the hard part. And I will be going out with you. Never go EVA alone, that's some sort of rule, isn't it?"

Airy manages to secure a drink and returns as quietly as before, keeping out of the conversation. She sits back down on the edge of Jared's bunk and takes a sip, head tilted curiously as she listens intently.

Swiftfoot scratches thoughtfully at her chin, and nods. "We could just take the engines offline, I suppose." The felinoid shrugs vaguely. "That shows up rreadily enough on a scan of the ship." One ear flicks back halfway, and she nods, mostly to herself. "Hmm. I think that might worrk, but if anyone has any betterr ideas, now is the time."

"Maybe you could hook something up so we start venting something out into space. I could maybe rig up a little charge we could detonate by remote, and we could hook a tank up to the hull." Jared says with a little shrug.

"That's a bit too complicated for me, I'm afraid," Ambition says. "Taking the engines offline should work for our purposes."

"Theatrics." Airy says softly, and shakes her head. "Make it too elaborate, and they'll get worried. Just do what you have planned, it's fine. I can take care of the engines and things if you're going to be in EVA, but I can't pilot, so if it has to be quick, we're screwed."

"Hrr. That's a good idea, but a little complex, meh? We'll keep that trrick in mind forr anotherr day, though." Swifty's ears flick back briefly, then forward again. "Well, I was planning on going out myself, but would it perrhaps be betterr if I stayed on boarrd, so we can move as soon as everryone is inside? Neitherr of these two can fly the ship." She shrugs vaguely, and shifts her gaze back to Ambition.

"Your the boss Swifty." Jared says with a shrug. "If we're gonna fake a breakdown and then high-tail it away we're gonna be made though. No ship on any legit business is gonna turn tail and run after a potential breakdown."

"It's a custom part," Ambition says, "not related to our FTL drive. Better to get it straight from Ungstir than park on a backwater and wait a week to get it delivered." He smiles thinly. "I've given it some thought. I think it should work."

"I don't do EVA. Or I'd help. I can't hack it, I've tried." Airy gives a little shudder. "But I'll do whatever else is needed."

Swiftfoot chuckles. "And being that Jackal isn't a standarrd Calliope anymorre, it's quite believable." She nods, and quirks a brow. "Arre you okay going out, Jarred? If not, I'll go myself, and we can wing it. I just think it'd be a little fasterr, meh?" The felinoid nods sympathetically at Airy. "It takes some getting used to."

"I'm not too good at zero G." Jared says, "And I'm not exactly much of a gear head. If you want me to go out I'd probably be more harm then help." He replies to Swifty.

"Mostly, you'll be there to make sure I don't get stuck alone," Ambition says to Swiftfoot. "You can get back to the airlock as I'm finishing up." He pushes off the counter and looks around. "How does it sound? Are we ready to go? The rest of the details can be worked out in flight."

Swiftfoot nods, and flicks her tail. "Okay, then, I'll just have to move fast getting out of my suit." She blinks at Ambition. "Guess it's you and me afterr all, meh?" She chuckles and turns, heading for the hatch leading to the forward compartments.

Ambition chuckles. "Indeed," he agrees, following the pilot forward.

>> Outside the Ship: "I know helping out a lot of people at a time might bother somebody..." Kas acknowledges, then adds inquisitively, "Are you working on fixing your relationship with the Republic?"

Swiftfoot pads over to the pilot's seat, securing herself into the retraints before looking over her shoulder. "Everryone find a place to sit, meh? And don't forrget to strrap in. Not that we should have any trrouble, but you neverr know." She chuckles softly, and goes about making preparations to take off.

Ambition nods, finding himself a seat. "This should be fun." He pulls out his PDA, and then a worksuit glove. Pulling on the worksuit glove, he starts manipulating the PDA. Practicing.

>> Outside the Ship: Freyssinet snorts. "That is one hopeless case - they'd sooner hang us than listen to us."

Jared follows onto the bridge, nodding his head to swifty and he makes his way over towards the weapons console, strapping himself into the seat.

>> Outside the Ship: Freyssinet frowns, "That person would be taking huge risks... Unless protected by something like diplomatic immunity, I would not recommend it."

>> Outside the Ship: Kastaprulyi returns some puzzlement. "Why'd talking with the Republic be dangerous? Lots of human people just decide not to talk about stuff when it bothers them."

Once everyone is settled in and strapped down, the orange-furred Demarian takes one last look to make sure nobody on the landing pad is too close to the ship, then puts her paws to the controls and takes off, angling the sleek, black freighter for one of the portals leading outward.

"How long do you suppose the trip will be?" Ambition asks, the tip of his tongue coming out as he continues practicing on his PDA with fingers thickened by the worksuit's glove.

"Another seven, eight minutes orr so," Swiftfoot replies, looking back over her shoulder briefly. "Is therre anything else we should hammerr out beforre we arrive?"

Finally entering the cockpit from further in the ship, Airy seems to have cleaned herself up, removing the last traces of sleep. She gives an apologetic nod in the Demarian's direction, and finds a spot to lean, watching the front viewscreen idly.

"Yeah." Jared says, "What's the plan if we do get made? What point do we decide to cut our losses and run if they start coming to check us out?"

"We get there, we do a sensor sweep. There should be a comm relay nearby. We want one that will be within our comm range while we're at the fringe of Waldheim's sensors range," Ambition replies. "I anticipate my work outside will take about fifteen minutes. If they start coming to check us out and their ETA to visual range doesn't give us five minutes to get in the airlock, clean and back inside, we cut bait. I can come back with another ship at another time when the heat quiets down, and besides, I have other jobs lined up. Once I'm back inside, if they come sniffing, we can play it a little looser ... but I'll have also already set up a link on the comm relay I can use at any time, provided no one comes by and gives the relay a detailed looking over."

Swiftfoot nods, her eyes on the viewscreen. "Sounds good enough to me. With any luck, we won't need any fancy flying, and Demarr forrbid we should have to actually shoot at anyone. That would end up being morre trrouble than it's worrth." She flicks an ear, and gives a slight stretch.

"I've never been out this way." Airy says musingly, resting her hands behind her head and stretching languidly. She watches curiously as the ship comes out of jump, then clicks her tongue on the roof of her mouth. "Rill should have come."

"It's a horrible place and I don't intend to land," Ambition drawls, pulling himself to his feet. "How do we look?"

"Well looks like it's just about time to get serious." Jared says with a chuckle. He settles back a little, gaze drifting quietly.

Swiftfoot snorts softly. "No way in hell am I landing down therre." She shrugs and flicks an ear, looking over her shoulder at Ambition. "We look good so farr. Just let me know wherre you need me to go, chief."

Ambition leans over Swiftfoot, one hand on the edge of the Demarian's console. "Do a passive scan and ease insystem," he says. "Let's see if there are any conveniently placed relays."

With a small, discreet yawn, Airy makes her way over to the engineering console, checking it out briefly. Not seeing much different than what she's used to, she settles herself in the chair, more a flop than anything else.

>> Outside the Ship: The IND Jackal executes a sensor scan of the local space.

Swiftfoot nods and punches a couple of keys, the end of her tail switching patiently. "Hrr..." she muses, before putting her paws to the controls again, gently nudging the ship closer to the planet.

"How's it looking Swifty?" Jared asks as he looks over at the Demarian at the helm. He looks down at his console, eyeballing the displays.

Ambition looks out the viewscreen with a pensive look of anticipation on his face.

A small, rather remote corporate relay satellite sits just beyond the dark side of Waldheim, a couple of pulsing blue telltales marking it for passing space traffic.

"Therre," the Demarian says, carefully nudging the ship closer to the satellite. "Will that do?" she inquires, pointing at the viewscreen, the blue lights of the relay now readily visible.

"Yes," Ambition breathes. "Yes ... that will do nicely. I'll start getting suited up. Have our little malfunction and park us within tether range." He glances to Jared. "You'll be all right doing the talking, if there's a problem?"

Airy glances up with interest, tilting her head to the side and eyeing the viewscreen. Sitting up straighter, she bends over the console, letting her fingers splay over it. "Just tell me when, yah?"

Jared chuckles, "Yeah, I'm good a great talker." He says flashing a grin, "You think you'll be able to get that sattelite hacked without getting us caught?"

Swiftfoot chuckles and winks at Jared. She flicks her ears at Airy, and blinks. "Go ahead. Not the FTL, just the insystem drrive. We want to be able to jump away if things go south, without having to wait for the spindrrive to warrm up again. And rrememberr the storry, meh?" She releases herself from the restraints on the pilot's chair, and edges her way toward the hatch.

Ambition nods. "Lady willing," he says to Jared, smirk. "Just remember, if things go south - pull me aboard, *then* flee." He disappears through the hatch to get suited up.

Ambition begins pulling on a worksuit. He mutters something that sounds like, "so much easier with two hands."

Swiftfoot flicks an ear and eyes the Timonae curiously, but doesn't give a verbal reply. Instead, she picks out the one worksuit that is most definitely not made for a humanoid, and starts to climb into it, double-checking everything as she does so.

Ambition glances up at Swiftfoot. "While we're out there, remember: we're fixing an engine part. Worksuit comms are insecure." He pulls his breastplate on and secures the seals.

Ambition affixes his suit's tether to a hook next to the airlock, remaining with a hand steadying himself against the Jackal's hull as he looks around for the satellite. Tethered to his suit is his PDA.

Swiftfoot similarly attaches her tether to another conveniently placed hook near the airlock, then turns her gaze outward, looking in the direction that the satellite lay relative to the ship.

The satellite remains where last seen, blinking in the silence of space.

Ambition is invisible behind the tinted visor of the worksuit as it turns to face Swiftfoot. There is a click and a hiss: the commlink activating. "Quite a bit bigger with no ship between you and it, isn't it, space?" He says. There's a swallow. "Well. I'm ready if you are." He arranges himself, placing feet against Jackal's hull and tugging on his tether to test it.

Swiftfoot nods, the head of the suit moving ponderously, and puts her feet to the freighter's hull, tugging experimentally on her tether. The suit's comm crackles, her voice slighty distorted. "I neverr did like doing this. Let's make it quick if we can, meh? Lead on, chief."

Ambition nods his agreement. "Quick," he agrees. Aiming for the satellite, he pushes off of the Jackal's hull gently with his feet.

The satellite has a bolted access panel built into its upper hemisphere, above one of the blinking cerulean lights.

Swiftfoot hesitates for just a moment, then pushes off after the suited Timonae, also aiming for the blinking blue lights. When she gets to the satellite, she eyes the access panel critically, then looks over at Ambition, more out of habit than anything.

Ambition catches himself on the satellite, pulling out a small satchel of tools. He inspects the bolted panel briefly for alarms before removing a simple power tool, about to fit it onto the first bolt.

Swiftfoot merely keeps a silent watch from behind the tinted visor, the tail portion of her suit floating erratically from side to side.

The power tool whirs silently, death quiet as they wheel gently in space. Ambition catches each bolt as it drifts away from the satellite, pocketing it in a utility pouch at his wrist. He slings the tool back into its pouch, carefully allowing the panel to slide open. As he eyes it, he pulls out his PDA and a length of patch cable, looking for where to jack in.

Swiftfoot leans a little closer to look inside the satellite, more than likely out of sheer curiosity, but her comm stays silent.

Inside the access pocket of the satellite, there are several switches, red and green blinking lights, and a jack node.

Ambition jacks his PDA into the satellite, wincing behind his faceplate as he reads the labels on the satellite's hardware. He boots up the electronic device, and its screen casts a pale glow on his faceplate, attempting to connect to the satellite's diagnostic systems.

The connection is made. Ambition's PDA is now linked into the satellite's diagnostic systems, with several options popping up in German, numbered 1, 2 and 3.

The Demarian's head tilts slowly to the side as she watches, and she shifts her gloved paws to get a little better grip on the satellite.

"Come on, you infernal device," Ambition mutters, without engaging his helmet mike. He brings up a second window in his PDA: Translation software. Commercially available. Crude. "Speak terran standard. Sprechen zie terran standarden." The play of light on his face shield changes as the tiny little software's binary electronic cogs begin to spin.

Swiftfoot's grip tightens on the satellite, her tail still floating from side to side erratically. She shifts a bit, looking toward the planet. Not that she could see anything besides the planet itself at this point, mind you, but that doesn't stop her from looking.

The translation software manages only to bring up a mangled output that seems to suggest that option 1 is Cheesepie, option 2 is Adder Ping Stairs, and option 3 is Salutations Gratuitous.

Ambition glances across at Swiftfoot, flicking up his tinted visor. His expression is one of irritation. "This may take a bit longer than I anticipated," the Timonae says, body drifting up from the satellite a few inches and then closer to it again as he shifts his body weight. "Hang on." He brushes his PDA patch cord away from his face, lowers the visor, and selects option two. "Maza's empty universe, why not. I hate pie anyway."

Swiftfoot looks back toward the Timonae, and she nods ponderously, leaning over to look down into the access panel again.

The option Adder Ping Stairs is selected. It brings up a box with a blinking cursor prompt beneath a single glowing red word: NOODLE.

Ambition lets out an exasperated sigh. "That's no good." He resets his connection to the satellite, choosing option 1 this time.

The system appears locked in Option 2. It brings up a box with a blinking cursor prompt beneath a single glowing red word: NOODLE.

"Damn the noodles, I want pie!" Ambition hisses, accidentally triggering his comm so that Swiftfoot can hear it. He considers a moment, disengaging his helmet mic with a hurried flick of the chin. "Guest ... guesten ... no, damn, I should've paid more attention on Waldheim ..." after a moment, he types: "Gast," and sends the word to the server.

Swiftfoot leans a little closer, trying to get a look at the screen of the PDA. After a moment, she seems to give up on this, and shifts back to where she was, content to watch the Timonae do whatever it is he's doing.

VERBOTEN! This word blinks on and off, while leaving the box and cursor prompt in place, under the word: NOODLE.

"Schnitzel-loving bastards," Ambition hisses to himself. "I've no time for this." He sends the satellite a series of commands in assembly language, requests aimed beyond what he's treating as a password prompt, requests intended to confuse the satellite into granting him access and displaying a MOTD.

Swiftfoot looks up at the Timonae again, head tilting to the side curiously for a moment before she looks back down into the satellite's innards.

VERBOTEN! This word blinks on and off, while leaving the box and cursor prompt in place, under the word: NOODLE.

Ambition slaps the side of the satellite noiselessly. "Ugly language," Ambition growls. "Let's try this." He slides around the satellite, letting his PDA hang from the jack cable, moving towards the satellite's physical communications equipment. Looking for any other panel, perhaps one that allows the installation of another antenna with a data jack.

No such port or panel appears to be available.

Swiftfoot looks up at the Timonae, flicking the tinted visor up for a moment to give him a worried glance, before closing it again. She points toward the ship, and gives an exaggerated shrug, the question remaining a silent one.

Ambition checks the chronometer mounted to his wrist, opens his faceplate, and gives Swiftfoot an exasperated look. He holds up one finger, closes the faceplate, and navigates around to his PDA one last time. His second attempt at a username (or password?) is: Verwalter.

VERBOTEN! That word continues to blink, but there's some consolation, possibly, in the fact that the box, cursor prompt, and NOODLE are all gone. In their place, what appears to be a brief sentence consisting of the words: ALABASTER FISH MONKEY AIR BOX WALLET TORNADO VICTORY SWINGSET.

Ambition shakes his head, closing his connection and moving to unplug his PDA from the socket. He jerks a finger back towards the ship, then starts in on replacing the panel. "Time's up," he says. "We'll try another way depending on what things are like inside."

And this is when the blinking blue lights on the satellite stop blinking. It appears to go dead in space.

Swiftfoot's grip tightens on the satellite as the lights go out, and she turns to the Timonae and nods slowly, then shifts so that she's facing the nearly-invisible black freighter. She pushes off toward the ship, gathering up the tether as she goes.

Ambition mirrors Swiftfoot's movements. "Expedience, I think, is of the utmost importance," he says, pushing off towards Jackal.

Swiftfoot fetches up against the hull of the Jackal, gathering up the last of the line and punching in the boarding code. Her comm crackles. "I couldn't agrree with you morre," she says, unhooking her tether and entering the airlock.

Ambition tears off his helmet. "Maza's tits," he breathes. "It was all in German. All of it. I couldn't even speak to it in Assembly. I'll have to try to attack the datanode directly, although I'm not sure it would be a smart idea to do it now."

Swiftfoot was already in the process of shucking off her suit, leaving it lie where it might. "Brrakirr's shining whiskerrs," she mutters, continuing with what sounds like a string of curses in Demarese. "Well, I take it you've got anotherr idea?" she inquires, already stepping toward the inner hatch.

"Yes. Try to find my hacker friend who speaks German," Ambition says drily, "and come back another day. We've doubtless brought attention to this place. Back to Ungstir, posthaste. We can discuss consequences later." He tears off his breastplate and gestures. "Go go. Mach schnell!" His face contorts in disgust and he stomps his foot. "I mean -quick!-"

Jared pulls up from having just given Airy a kiss and he looks over at Swifty, "We ready to get outa here and let our employer do his hacking?" he asks.

Swiftfoot pads onto the bridge, clad only in the thin, white bodyglove worn under a worksuit, and makes a beeline for the pilot's seat. "It's a no go. I think he said everrything was in Gerrman, of all things." She snorts softly, and fastens the restraints, looking back over her shoulder.

"Just getting out of here, unfortunately," Ambition replies. "The expedition did not go as planned. A getaway is in order, I'm afraid." The hacker nods, frowning. "Yes, German. Next time I'll make a point of picking a /foreign-owned/ satellite. Or perhaps trying a different point of access."

"What the hell is German? Another one of those backwater human dead languages?" Airy says disgustedly, not in the least bit ashamed of having gotten caught. "I think so," Swiftfoot replies, "Therre's quite a few of them, meh? Humans arre strrange that way. The felinoid pauses briefly, then looks back at the Timonae. "Hey, brring the engines back online, would you, Airry?"

Ambition falls silent, struggling to remove his suit.

Airy quickly brings the engines back online, then leans back and gives the Demarian a little suit. "Aye aye, captain." She says mischevously, then shrugs one shoulder.

Jared chuckles a bit, flashing Airy an 'I told you so' look and he walks over towards the gunner's seat again, sitting back down and strapping in.

Swiftfoot chuckles dryly. "I'm just acting captain, woman," she mock-growls. The Demarian gives the viewscreen a brief, worried glance, before edging the freighter away from the satellite, heading out towards the jump point.