As Anastius nodded in acknowledgment of Morgan's agreement to join the team the door opened and a Zarr padded into the room. Unlike the one they had seen earlier this morning, this Zarr was wearing a harness that held, among other things, a pair of pistols.

"Ah, Zathus," Anastius greeted to the new comer. "Finally."

"They have agreed, I take it?" Zathus asked pointedly sitting down and looking over the group. One of the `among other things' was a translator that made it easer for Zathus to communicate the human tongues, and easier for the humanoids to understand him.

Anastius merely nodded. "Kasius, Dr. Paayt wishes to send a message to her home world. Will you see that she is accommodated. Zathus, if you would take them to their ship."

"Things have changed, Anastius," Zathus said pointed. He retrieved a sheet of paper from his harness and gave it to the Senator. "They'll be wanting to leave as soon as they can figure out how to get that piece of junk you're giving them to fly -- assuming it doesn't explode before it gets out of the landing bay." He made that rapid clicking noise in his throat again, and his tail swished the floor irritably.

"I have it on the best of authority that it is -- or can be made to be -- a fine ship," Anastius murmured, reading the missive. Wordlessly he handed it to Lawrence.

"`Can be made to be', being a rather important key," Zathus observed dryly.

The transmission sheet Anastius handed Lawrence read:

YJ-2 CLS DWN T-TWINS EPSILON-JAY --STOP--
TRNSPND IMP SGNL --STOP--
FWL PLY SSPCT --STOP--
SJ-2-2121C RPTS --STOP--
--EOT--

"That might be our first break," Zathus observed. "You people had best get moving."

Bourne read it twice, and sighed. "What was that you said about survival pay?" Under his breath, he added, "I don't know what's worse, interstellar piracy or forced conscription."

Paladin pushed out of his chair, eying the Zarr, not with suspicion, but with appraisal. The discussion of this ship was deflating. He had hoped to get away from flying junk with engines, but he was hired to fly, and fly he would. He looked over at Jake, and Jack, and hoped they were as good at their craft as he was at his.

"Which bay is it in?" He asked, with resignation.

The missive finally made its way to Paladin's hands. "Do not sound so glum Paladin," Anastius advised as he looked over the standard clipped message format. "I have it on good authority you're going to be flying the fasted ship in the Empire. `Nothing can catch her', was the word I was given."

"Assuming A) you can keep it running and B) You don't run out of fuel in your race to the next gas giant," Zathus drawled sarcastically. "It's not in a docking bay," he said to Paladin. "And it's not going to be in one any time soon unless you pick it up and carry it there on your back. It's in south bay maintenance hanger 236 -- which is locked and secured. Our dear Senator has been afraid somebody would try to steal the piece of crap." He slotted Anastius a disgusted look. "I assume yo u know how to find the place?" He smiled at Paladin's affirmative -- at least Paladin assumed that's what the toothy grin was. "Good. Then I won't have to ruin the rest of my morning taking you there. But be careful what you touch. The --- uh, `previous owner' had a peculiar sense of humor. There are alarms and booby traps all over that flying trash can."

"You do wonders for moral, Zathus," Anastius observed acidly. "I think you can be excused now."

"With pleasure." The Zarr padded toward the door.

Teagan cocked her head as she regarded Zathus, Anastius and Paladin, as they spoke about their ship. "I will need to tend to it, to diagnose it, but I am completely confident that if she has any life left in her I can make her want to work for us. The sooner I can begin the sooner she can be flight ready." Her last comment was directed at Paladin since he had already shown an interest in locating her.

"Do you have a manifest for what's on the ship?" Morgan said, speaking to the Senator."I'd like to check it over to see if what's there." And to see what might be missing, he didn't add. "I'm sure that it'll take Paladin, Bourbon and Jack a bit to make sure she's going to stay where Paladin flies her. That probably gives us an hour or so before we need to leave for ... where are we going?"

Paladin handed the note to the net person who hadn't seen it yet, and looked over to Morg. "The Twins system, from the looks of it. From the way the Zarr spoke of the ship, I wouldn't count on it being space worthy in an hour though. Hell preflight checkouts can take longer than that without any repairs. We will know more when we get our hands on it."

Turning back to The Senator, Paladin asked, "What makes you think this YJ-deuce had anything to do with Aldeborahn?"

"That ship was an imperial flagged yacht," Anastius replied. "Only one ship bearing the Imperial flag left Durakaan within a 12 hour window on either side of Aldeborahnn's disappearance. An analysis of the telemetry suggests that the Delgado Epsilon system is within the margin of error, and is about the right distance from Durakaan for that class of vessel, for the time that has elapsed.

"As for manifests, the ship has been stripped of anything personal or portable, pumped down, and moth balled for long term storage. In fact, it was aboard the station when I got here. I decided to keep it after having it examined by several engineers, all of whom gave the same report: Yes, it needs some work. You must forgive Zathus. He is a soldier, not a flyer. The ship is an IFS-15 that has been highly modified from its original configuration by an amateur who knew what he -- or she -- wanted, but who lacked the requisite skills to integrate all the systems efficiently. It has been -- how is it you humans say it? Ah... `hopped up' a bit."

Paladin smiled, he had some hours logged in a '-15' ad they were good ships. Better than good, really. "Thats some good news, I was half afraid that you had bought the Wasp-4 for us to fly, the way that Zarr spoke about it." Turning to Jack he continued, "The '-15' is an outstanding vessel, and got a bad rap from the Navy because they couldn't figure out how to use it. Honestly, sometimes politics plays more a part in procurement than functionality, unfortunately."

Morgan nodded with Paladin's assessment. "So, Paladin, Willa, Jack and Bourbon," he nodded toward Jacob, "need to get on the ship ASAP to get it up. Everyone should compile a list of what supplies they need so we can make fewer runs." He looked at the Senator, "We're going to need a floater and some comms."

Anastius nodded. "Nearly everything you need is in the maintenance bay. Everything else is either in the armory or storage."

Willa had been listening to the conversation intently and headed off to the maintenance bay as soon as Anastius had given the go ahead.

Lawrence would have to find 'storage', wherever that was on this godforsaken oasis of suck. He was rapidly losing his sense of humor as the magnitude of what he'd been sucked into began to register on his intellect. The least he could do was to ensure that the ship was stocked with proper necessities - mainly booze.

The trip from Senator Anastius's offices to `South Bay' -- i.e. the landing bay at the very bottom of the carrier -- was no more than routine. As their transport was gone, and Kasius had taken Dr. Paayt to send her message home, they were forced to make the trip `the old fashioned way' -- via the strips and personnel elevators.

One of the supreme ironies of the VF series ships was that, in order to get from the bridge wing to South Bay, one had to go up before one could go down. From the bridge wing they had to return to central, then pick a tangent strut (they were equidistant from South Bay) to the ring, and from there they could take the Strip to South Bay. All in all, it was pretty much a waste of a half an hour. A waste still present in the VF-12 version of the same ship.

In its current role, South Bay was little used. It's main purpose was storage and major overhaul. Thus, while the other three landing bays bustled with activity, down here little was going on. They could hear tools and equipment banging and buzzing and humming in the distance, but from their entrance point, they could see no one in the low light. Even Morgan, with his enhance eye saw little but the vast expanses of space needed to park and work on ships and transports.

Hanger 236 was about half way down the length of the massive landing bay. Across from them they could see the arcs of welders through the half open doors of hanger 119. And just up the bay a bit there was an obnoxiously loud sound coming from hanger 202. A couple of antiquated shot up fighters were parked on the tarmac, probably awaiting repair, and there was an old transport that looked like someone had used a can opener to try and open. From the blood on the hull sheathing, the crew hadn't fared so well in the sudden depressurization.

But the doors to their hanger were closed -- closed and locked. Anastius had given them the combination. Morgan let them in without incident.

The emergency lights came on the instant they walked in, cutting through the inky blackness with long fingered swaths of light. Across the hanger the coupling for the high voltage conduit used to power ships at dock blinked orange and green. And in the middle of the hanger sat the silhouette of a sleeping vulture. Her lines were long and sleek, and her nose looked like it was built to swoop down and devour prey. From their position below her she seemed proud, powerful, restless... but asleep -- no... No that wasn't' quite right. Not asleep, unconscious. In a coma.

Then there was the dust. Everything was covered with it, and everything smelled like it. It appeared nobody had been in this hanger in years. They could smell it as they made their way across the hanger to the master control panel.

As they made their way across the hanger, Willa and Paladin and Teagen noticed something very odd about the ship. The warp nacelles were hardly standard, that was true. But even more odd, no IFS-15 had ever come equipped with a cargo ramp! Yet there it was, extending down from the middle of the hull, just behind the cock-pit bonnet. As the Senator had said: This was a highly modified IFS-15. Maybe it was just an IFS-15 hull. In a minute they'd know.

It took Teagan all of 10 seconds to find the main switch and turn on the lights. And there she was, in all of her glory. The modifications had been done by a `back yard mechanic', and so were fairly obvious -- even though some of them had been designed to be inobvious. The welds were crude. The fittings hardly up to military specs. All in all, everyone could see why Zathus had called the ship a piece of junk. And yet...

And yet...

Morgan looked at the ship, then looked over at Paladin. “So, she’s got some custom engines and some other odd bits.” He headed toward the cargo ramp, it seemed the only way inside. The ramp doubled as the door, closing up and sealing the ship for flight.

“Permission to come aboard.” Morgan said into the darkness, his electronic eye searching for heat blooms. He started to walk up the ramp, wishing he had some kind of weapon. “It seems empty.”

"Woah, hold up." Jacob moved forward to stop Morgan. "They said this thing had booby traps and security systems on it. I don't think you should just rush in. Give me a second to check it out. Although I spent more time putting them in than getting past them, security is still my specialty." As he talked, he scanned the entry ramp, looking for any sign of dangers or security.

Morgan nodded his head and gestured for Jacob to go ahead of him. He was head-strong and fool-hearty, not stupid.

She had started plotting the course in her head as soon as she found out where they were going. Willa was only slightly familiar with this area of space, she’d certainly seen the star charts of it, but was itching to get her eyes on something more concrete and complete than her memory. When she heard that the ship had been gutted her impatience with the old man grew. But then she saw it, it was a work of art! Okay, a work of art created by an amateur, but amazing to behold none the less. She was still examining the modifications when Jacob said he was going to check it out for booby traps. “I can lend a hand with that.” she said.

Jacob examined the visible parts of the ship carefully. "I need a flashlight, he muttered, wishing he had some tools." Looking over at the others he pointed. "There is a security eye, there. Without more light and taking some stuff apart it's hard to say what it does." Without real thought he pulled an old stylus out of his pocket and slipped it in his mouth. "The biggest question is power. With as long as the ship has been mothballed, it should be powerless and the security systems should be down." He grinned around the stylus. "I've never really liked trusting my life to should be. I'd recommend we get some flashlights in here and I poke around a little more. Hopefully the guy was smart enough to put an external override in the thing. Then I can get in and confirm what is going on."

Without waiting for a response, the big man started towards Hanger 119, hoping to borrow a light and some other tools.

While Bourbon Man, and Willa went next door, Paladin began moving around the hangar itself, looking to see what sort of materials were available, and to see if the combination that opened the Hangar, opened anything else. Damn, it's gonna be nice to have techs around again. He thought as he started his search.

Willa jogged over to catch up with Jacob and followed him to the other hanger.

As Willa and Jacob left, Teagan began to walk around the ship, leaning in to see under it's belly. As she took her in she made a verbal commentary about each of the enhancements or changes that she saw that were not standard. "That'll do pig. That'll do."

A chap in cover-alls was just removing a welding helmet as they walked in. It turned out to be a woman in her thirties with ruddy looking skin and dirty blond hair. Only her daddy had probably ever called her pretty. "You must be the new ones I heard about," he said evenly, tossing the helmet onto a work stand and pulling off her gloves. She was working on one of those old Wasp-4s Paladin had mentioned in the Senator's office. Willa had flown one. They were pigs; but like pigs they were damned tough. "You're here for that jacked IFS-15 in 236. The names Carla, but most folks around here just call me Juice." She held out a dirty hand. "What can I do for you?" The lady asked.

Stepping forward and grasping her hand she nodded and said, "Willa. We don't even have any tools to start working on her. Anything you can get us would be great, Juice! Can we start with some lights and other basics, then we can move on to the larger tools." She looked up at the Wasp-4 and grinned, her excitement began to build. She was finally going to be flying again soon! Then she remembered herself and introduced the Jacob as well.

"Pleasurable, Willa, Jacob," Juice shook both their hands. "They didn't give you no keys to the lockers and boxes, huh? Fuckin' figgers. Ol' pasty face up there ain't so good at the common sensical type stuff." She wiped her dirty face and hands off with an equally dirty rag, then fished a lethal looking ring of keys out of her tool box and headed for the hanger door.

"What'd they tell you about this old bird?" She asked conversationally as they walked back across the huge tarmac.

Unsure of how much ‘Juice’ knew or was supposed to know, Willa decided on discretion. “Not much, unfortunately. The damn thing has been modified beyond belief. We’ll see what she’s got in her once we can get some power to her. Have you seen her before?”

"Oh yeah," Juice smiled. "I parked her and balled her up for Pasty Face. Tried to get him to let me... Whowa... " As they came back into the hanger, Teagan was `doing her thing.'

After sending her message to her clan back on Eldyron, Leeda made her way to the ship with Kasius leading the way. Upon seeing it, she was less than impressed, but she wasn't any authority on mechanics, not by a long shot. She smiled fondly and thought that her brother Reeshan would have loved to have been here.

Those that were left in the hanger could hear Teagan as she made her verbal analysis. Her behavior continued to prove odd as she made her slow meaningful path around the ship. It almost seemed as if she caressed it as she studied it, in addition to her now familiar head tilt, she also closed her eyes for prolonged moments as she regarded the composite beauty before her.

When she spoke her tone was matter of fact despite it’s rambling nature. “Obvious enhancements, effectiveness yet to be determined, include. Warp nacels are three times bigger than they need to be, reason unknown. There are four pulse lasers sticking out of the top and bottom of each nacel. The engines are approximately two times bigger than normal, this will likely result in unparalleled speed in a vessel of this type. This will result in increased fuel consumption, calculations pending. The pylons under each wing strut will allow for extra storage, weapons, fuel tanks, dot. dot. dot.”

"Is that cute kid what I think she is?" Juice whispered. "And who the fuck is the walking calculator -- or whatever it is?"

Teagan paused for a moment and placed a slender finger on each of her temples. “Obvious repairs necessary and priority classifications, include. Several cracks and fractures on exterior composite hull, priority classification low. Port side maneuver drive thrust nozzle is cracked, priority classification critical. Must be repaired before leaving or it will explode into a flaming ball of burning hydrogen, demise eminent, one million credits left to beneficiary. Cause of drive thrust nozzle long term issue, the power plants and engines are twice as big as what should be installed on a ship this size – too much power.

As Teagan completed her slow circle around the ship she came to rest next to the cargo ramp, propping a foot upon it as she finished. “In addition, the cargo ramp is a clam shell, functionality includes. Down Ramp for loading cargo and vehicles the way it is now, or in space it can break in half and open to let a vehicle or person out. This design suggests that the lower cargo bay can be de-pressurized in space. If this assumption is true, it means the lower half of the ship and the upper deck are separate, pressurized compartments.”

Finally, Teagan looked at Paladin and Morgan specifically. “Any questions?”

Jacob shook his head as they caught the tail end of Teagan's speech. She knew her stuff, but was weird to have around. He wasn't sure what to make of her. Looking back at Juice, he smiled. "We're an odd crew. Got a flashlight for me?"

"Yeah," she murmured, heading to the line of tool boxes and lockers that lined the back wall of the hanger. One by one she went down the row and unlocked them all. "This big trunk here has the power coupling cord. She used to power up. Dunno if she will now or not. Been goddamn years since ol' Pasty Face let juice 'er up. Here." She handed Jacob a flashlight from one of the boxes.

She eyed Lawrence speculative. "You're a cute bastard. Wanna go roll in the fuckin' bunk for awhile?"

The debutante stared back at her for a moment or two and then up at the piece of shit in which they were actually expected to travel. Finally he shrugged defeatedly and said to himself, "So this is hell."

Willa groaned. If they had this much work to do just on the outside she wasn’t sure she even wanted to start thinking about the inside. “Explode into a flaming ball of burning hydrogen”, what a way with words this girl has. “That cargo bay is an interesting feature, could come in handy at some point." she said looking over at Paladin. "Jacob, what do you want me to do?”

Morgan listened to Jack's assessment, nothing sounded un-fixable ... but nothing sounded fast either. And the inside would have to be totally trashed. He started making a list of things he thought they'd need. He thought he knew where he might find a guy who could help them - if they had enough off-the-books money. But this entire thing is off-the-books, he thought. "Jacob, Jack, Willa, Paladin, Doc -- start pulling together a list of what you need and I'll see if I can find it. And, if you can get me the hard-to-find stuff first, I'll get to work on that." He knew that no one had seen the insides yet, but the sooner he started getting the parts, the sooner they could start fixing stuff.

He looked over to Lawrence, then smiled as he past him on the way back over to the ship. "We'll be checking out the ship; have fun." He punched him (medium hard) on the arm for good luck.

“Are you sure you want to do that Morgan?” Willa asked. “Jacob and I haven’t looked for booby traps yet.”

"Booby traps," Lawrence repeated to nobody in particular. Then to all of them, while straightening and buttoning his white dinner jacket, "All-righty then, while you suicidal lunatics determine the best way to turn this pile of debris into something space-worthy, I will be getting very drunk back at the bar." While walking away, he added, "Please, by all means, do forget to come get me before you leave."

Morgan smiled back at Willa, "I was kinda hoping I'd be going on the ship after you guys cleared it." He was completely unsure how to take her. She was very serious, and all-the-time serious. He hoped that would change some - soon. "Otherwise, I'll probably blow something up with me that Jacob would say is important. I am really just asking to leave before Juice and Larry start bumping nasties. All in favor?" He stuck up his hand to vote. Then, walked back toward their ship without really waiting to see who was sticking around.

Willa laughed and watched him walk away, shaking her head.

Leeda stayed well back; though she didn't think the booby traps would be sophisticated enough to foil her telekenetic skills, she wasn't so sure of her reaction time. Teaching hordes of bored students in a classroom was not the sort of experience to hone battle instincts. She was desperately curious, though, about the interior, considering the strange configuration of the hull itself... she hoped there would be some sort of hardwired electronics framework in place, though she didn't think for a minute anything as relatively useless as medical data would have survived the many hands the ship had passed through. She had brought the most important files with her, of course, just in case. She didn't trust the faculty back at the university to keep her mainframe intact if she were gone for more than a few weeks. Not that she blamed them; the university was well funded, considering, but resources were always short. "I think I'll go see to my belongings, myself. If you would, though, check the non-essential files onboard, see if there's anything resembling a medical database? I doubt it, but you never know!" With that cheerful phrase, she turned to make her way back to her quarters.

Juice watched the kid -- who apparently was what she thought she was -- trot out right behind the cute guy in the dinner jacket, shrugged, and headed for the door herself. She'd just been beeped. Probably another fucking crummy broke down on the way to the barn. And anyway, she'd learned a long time ago that pretty girls got annoyed by the unending attention; girls like her -- well, they got annoyed by being treated as though they didn't exist. It was what had driven her to become a mechanic. Machines and robots don't ignore you -- and neither do miners whose broken down crummy was making them late for dinner.

Paladin watched as Lawrence ignored their visitor, insulted their ship, and basically shirked aking any sort of responsibility for anything. He kept his face in stone cold Military neutral as the man walked out, to get intoxicated, and sat down on a tool chest to make a list for Morg. The senator said the man has formidable skills. theyd better be formidable if he was to prove worth putting up with that attitude. He thought, then he smirked as the next thought followed. How many of them did you put to shame in the Academy, anyway? The ones like him washed out before the first year was up.

When Teagan saw that Paladin was making a list she approached him, and began rattling off a list of things that she would need. "The ship is fast but the design is bad. We'll need to replace the fuel nozzles. I could repair it, but the probability that it will sustain the repairs are not substantially in our favor. The other option is take her back to her original design, which will take longer and sacrifice speed, in favor of less fuel consumption." Teagan cocked her head a bit to regard Paladin, waiting for a decision.

Paladin scribbled away at the list of parts and materials, trying his best to keep up. When she had finished he looked up, into her eyes, wondering what it was that was behind them. She didnt have the dull lifeless eyes of an ALF, but, she wasnt quite all there, either. "Fast is a good start, and we dont have to run her full out all the time. Its nice to know if we need to burn away from pursuit, its there."

“Good choice. Then, I will need two nozzles to match the power level of the engine, calculations pending. It will take me approximately eight hours to do the repairs myself, but if I can get three others to help, we can cut the time in half. I’ll need scaffolding, at least one crane, preferable two if we can get the extra hands. If we can’t find suitable nozzles, I can build them, but it will take me approximately two weeks. The cute bastard would be very intoxicated by then.”

"Ill see what I can do." Paladin said as he completed the list, He stood up off the tool chest, and looked down at Jack. "You know your shit. Color me impressed. Just gimme the designations on those S.L. Engines, and I'll find us the ones that match. I gotta ask. What the hell are you? You're no droid, I'd wager on that."

"I'm no droid." Teagan agreed flatly, her eyes grew distant as she assessed her database for appropriate answers to that question. Some her own answers and some the insults, accusations and praise that she'd filed away from past crew members. "I am Teagan Ryleigh, 22 year old human from Midgard. Star student and athlete." After her own introduction, her voice took on an effect that made it clear she was mimicking other people. "I'm a freak! I'm an emotional droid. Something went wrong. I'm a mistake! I'm broken...can't even fuckink fuck." Whether it was imagined or real there seemed to be a sadness in her eyes as she explained what she was. Finally her voice filled with a quiet passion, as she spoke words that must have been spoken from the lips of a lover. "I'm not a machine! I'm a beautiful vibrant woman! I will heal..."

When she was done she regarded Paladin with a perfect smile, her pretty eyes once again void of light or life. "That is what the hell I am."

Paladin simply nodded. He regarded the mechanic with furrowed brows, and filed that response away for further examination later, the only word he spoke was an ancient military expression, whose origin was lost in antiquity, if not its meaning.

"Fubar."

Jacob moved towards the ramp, watching the camera for signs of activity. "Huh, this girl is serious about her privacy." Still chewing gently on the stylus, he indicated small dimples in the skin of the ship. "Micro-lasers. Usually set for incapacitation, although they could be lethal." He looked over the tools he had received from Juice. With a nod he pulled out some tools and carefully cracked the casing on the camera. He hooked up a voltage sensor and waited for the reading. "So far so good, it's cold." Still moving slowly and carefully he walked up the ramp, his eyes alert.

Grabbing a flashlight Willa walked behind Jacob as he walked up the ramp, listening to what he said to himself.

Once Jack finished with Paladin she headed to the cargo ramp to catch up with Willa and Jake. On the way she scanned each of the tool chests that had been unlocked and grabbed the power cord, dropping it at the base of the cargo ramp. As she entered she paused to scan the interior before walking to where the engines and power plants were housed. "Jake, let me know when I can power her up."

Jacob nodded. "Not yet, unless you want a laser enema." As he spoke he indicated other small imperfections. "More motion detectors and lasers. She really isn't into visitors." As he spoke he patted the ship with his hand. Moving further into the cargo bay, he continued to note down the location of the security systems. "Come on, now. Where is you control box, little lady?" he muttered to himself around the stylus. After examining the cargo bay for a few minutes he scowled. "The only way out seems to be the iris hatches. Not exactly fun." Moving towards the wall he climbed a ladder and began cranking the hatch open.

Willa looked around as she followed Jacob looking for anything that he might have missed.

The interior of the ship, so far as she could see with the flashlight, was very odd for a fighter class vessel. There was enough space in the cargo hold to park a number of vehicles and/or weapons; a fuel processing plant; and two small missile launching racks on the lower deck. And the deck above proved to be just as strange. A crew lounge? Five cabins? A sick bay? (Who ever heard of a full blown sick bay on a fighter?) And a twin pad teleport station? (You've got to be kidding!)

Over powered, under armed, with capabilities spread all over the map and, as Jacob kept announcing, a security system that sounded more deadly than the external weapons, it made no sense. No sense at all. What had this ship been used for? A fascinating question.

Jacob continued to explore the ship. He looked more puzzled as they explored the upper level. "Weird, cameras up here, but no lasers. Probably something else nasty." His head tilted as he considered. "What kind of ship are we getting here?" Shaking off the considerations, he continued opening panels and exploring the ship. Finally he seemed to finish up.

On the bridge he finally broke into a big smile. "There she is. I knew you were here darling." He seemed to be talking to a box on the back wall. Popping it open he looked at the mass of circuits and wires inside. "I'm gonna need you to help." He handed the two women with him circuit tracers. "I need you to take these through the ship and track out the system. Then I can shut the thing down until I have time to explore what it is and get it safe for us."

With her empty hand Willa took the tracer from Jacob and stuck it on the wall to the right of the box until she found a circuit. Then she started walking in the direction that it lead, following it around the ship and outside until she found the key code box. Wow, that was lucky! She went back to the bridge to report her findings, and started tracing another circuit.

Once Teagan was in the belly of the ship she drifted back towards the engines. Unlike Jake and Willa, she had no need for a flashlight, as she stepped gracefully around anything that was in her way. She stopped frequently to touch the ship, tilting her head this way or that, as she studied various items of interest.

Having completed the list as it was presented so far, Paladin moved to the bottom of the ramp and shouted up into the opening. "Hey! Is it safe to come up there and see what Im flying yet?"

Jacob yelled back, "You can come up, but don't run any power to the ship until we get the security system mapped out.

Once Teagan reached the engines she took her time looking at them. "The engines look really good. There are no cracks in the engines or the power plants." She rose her voice to make sure that Jake could hear her. "Jake. Can I power her up yet? I can't talk to her and see what's going on until we have power." Either she hadn't heard his reply to Paladin or expected that she would get a better answer.

Paladin moved up the ramp and made his way forward to the cockpit. He nodded as he heard Jack's report from the engine room, and made mental notes of all the changes from 'standard' he noted on his way. Once he reached the cockpit, a smile crossed his lips as he settled into the pilots chair and whispered to no one in particular. "Hello, there, whats a pretty girl like you doing in a hangar like this?"

Willa was tracing circuit around the pilot’s chair when Paladin came in and started talking to the ship. She laughed and said, “She’s just been waiting for a handsome man like you to come along and show her how a lady is supposed to be handled.”

Paladin looked up, giving Willa a smile and winking a green eye. "Whisper something sweet in her ear, and tickle her just right, and she'll roll onto her back and scream."

The bridge was big for a "figher". But for all its size it was packed to the gills. In addition to the pilot and co-pilot stations there was also a small monitoring station for the crew chief, and a scanning station. It was quite clear that the ship could easily be run from the bridge -- so long as nothing went wrong. But that was true of all ships.