"Oh, I'm definitely up for spend some "quality" time with you. I hear there are nude beaches there where the views are stunning. Of course, with you there I have no doubt of that they will be. As soon as the mission's over and we're free, I'll go make a withdrawal from one of my hidden accounts and buy us a cabin on a cruise liner heading there." @TheUnknowable

Clever man. Marga thought, grinning as she slowly drew her tongue over her pink lips and let her eyes rove over Farvis' body in a very obvious manner. "Oh Farvis, you always did know how to show a girl a good time."

A small 'click' caused her to break the eye contact she was having with the man. Marga's grin turned into a smug smirk as the handcuffs fell away from her hands. She rubbed her wrists, which were slightly sore from having spent the last few hours confined in the constraints. Marga stood up and clipped the handcuffs onto her belt, lifting up her top garment a little to do so and exposing her creamy skin. She was going to keep those handcuffs, they were rather good quality.

"I'm taking these with me. You never know, they might come in handy later." And with a wink sent in Farvis' direction, she sauntered over to the intercom - and if she let her hips sway a little bit from side to side seductively, well, that was her business.

"Oi Navy Boy," Marga knew she wasn't getting out of this one so had dropped all niceties towards the pilot. "You failed to mention when you were picking us up again at the end of this delightful little adventure."

'If you are picking us up again' wasn't added at the end, but Marga couldn't help but wonder.

"Oi Navy Boy, You failed to mention when you were picking us up again at the end of this delightful little adventure."@Bonjour xx

"Don't worry, I'll be close by. Once you send the signal I'll head back to pick you up." Felix replied as he studied the readouts and realigned the shuttle to match the Lone Star.

It was a tricky maneuver as the dreadnought was spinning slowly on its axis, he could really have done with a hand to make sure he didn't get too close and end up slamming straight into the side of the beast, but as it was his eyes darted between five different monitors as he struggled to keep track of both vessels, the EVA passengers, and the rocky asteroid field which was getting slowly closer as the Lone Star drifted on through space.

"And before you ask, the comms array on the Lone Star should have more than enough range to reach me, once you bring it online again." He finished before cutting the link and moving both hands back to his control board to make yet another set of delicate calibrations.

"I'll do it. Just let me in. I mean you no ill will - I mean I -" Simon fumbled around with his words, in a state of slight panic at the unfolding events. Two of their crew had just jettisoned into the cold of space, one had gotten the airlock open and the other was following up behind her, but now there was a swarm of blue mini bots going straight for them. Things were not going entirely according to procedure, but then again, when had they ever? This mission wasn't exactly...what he'd imagined it to be.

He knew the pilot door had a window, and so he looked in, potentially at the pilot but moreso he was aiming for the two team members that were out in space. His ocular lenses, regular cosmetic contacts outfitted with nano-electronic display systems, zoomed in on the pair. His readouts showed both of their vitals as normal (though surprisingly one of them read more robot than human; he'd have to inquire about that later), but what worried him was the fact that the tiny little robots that were clustered around the female that had gotten the airlock open slightly. His optics told him that they were some form of offensive drone, though of what exact kind he couldn't tell. That was the main source of his growing panic.

"Felix, you better let me in to help you get with the docking. Those little blue critters out there aren't advertisement drones looking for a sale."

"Felix, you better let me in to help you get with the docking. Those little blue critters out there aren't advertisement drones looking for a sale." @DJAtomika

Slamming his hand down on the door release Felix let the hatch behind him slide open before pointing over at the auxiliary control terminal set into the bulkhead. "Take a seat there and bring up the close-range and long-range scanners. I need you to keep track of the asteroid field ahead and warn me if it starts getting too close. Also keep an our on our... 'friends' out there. Let me know if they look like they'll get in the was of our maneuvering. Wouldn't want to accidentally toast them with our thrusters. Well, not much anyways."

With that Felix turned back to his console, dropping the scanner feeds he'd been using and focusing solely on the medium-range scanners showing the relative positions of both ships. "Come on baby, don't fail me now." He muttered, activating the thrusts to inch the shuttle closer to the maintenance hatch, causing the small shuttle to lurch sideways like a drunken bilgesnipe.

"You got it, Felix."

With a swiftness he plonked himself in the adjacent seat and quickly scanned the control panels. No real guidance here from Felix, he was busy piloting this hulk. He'd have to do it on his own. He sighed and muttered softly to himself.

"Optics, locate scanner controls."

On the verbal command his contacts sprung into life, doing a visual scan of the whole panel, doing a comparison to other panels in its database and finding a match in milliseconds. Once that was done his contacts immediately highlighted the appropriate buttons and controls to activate the scanners in a helpful pale blue outline. He followed the instructions displayed on his optics and punched in the buttons, and just like that the shuttle had scanner capability. The viewport of the ship lit up in a display of numbers and arrows, the closest things highlighted being their two crew members out in space; they were silhouetted in green, with a distance displayed above them. They were close, not horribly close to get burned by the adjustment thrusters on the front of the shuttle, but they were almost in the danger zone. Past that, he read the location of the asteroid field. It was closing, and closing in fast. It wasn't in visual range yet, thankfully, but it was close.

"Felix, our friends are close enough to the Lone Star that they won't get fried by our thrusters. You'll have to inform them to get out of the way when you dock though, otherwise they might be. The asteroid field is closing in, ETA five minutes. If those two out there don't stop screwing around we'll all be dead."

He sighed to himself but remained focused. Dammit, he was a doctor, not a soldier or a pilot or a whatever. In fact, he was probably the most...legal member of the crew, to put it bluntly. PharmCo had him here to test the armour he was wearing, not to get caught up in a hurricane of stupid.

Mez's grin faded slowly as his former lover began unabashedly flirting with the Human she called Farvis. He too began to reciprocate her verbal advances. He knew that she was doing it to get at him but it worked all the same. Not in the way she would have hoped, however. A cold chill ran down his spine, a surprisingly familiar feeling, yet an old one. One he hadn't experienced since...since Xerxes. It was a deadly emotion, not anger nor was it rage but something a lot calmer. It was an eerie feeling, a silent vow of resignation to kill a man not out of hatred or resentment but pure will. This wasn't a brash reaction, but a cold and calculated decision. Farvis would die by his hand. Marga had never been witness to this side of him before, even despite the numerous times he had flown into a fit of jealousy and anger previously. No. This was the monster he truly was, the assassin created by his own people who knew only the mission.

But it would have to wait. During their brief spat, the others had found a way onto the ship. Well the Gygan, Hundred was her name, had actually, which wasn't exactly a surprise. During his many years oppressing several races of the cosmos for his former Government, Mez had come across a few Gygan servitors. He'd even captured and enslaved one himself, a feat he held in high regard given how resilient and resourceful the bastards were. Their technology was incredibly similar to Visipian tech, however, the Gyges Consortium seemed to hold the leading edge on the matter, which is why he was tasked with capturing one of them. Rosenthal, the Eternal Lord of Research & Technology, had become infatuated with their work, hailing it as a piece of art. It was he who combined Visipian Cybernetics with Gygan Technology to create the 'perfect' cybernetic implants. The very implants that resided as a part of his being. In a strange sort of way, the thought of Hundreds as his tech-sister. A ridiculous thought but at least that showed he was still part organic.

He stood suddenly, deciding not to dignify Marga with a response. Her time would come along with her filthy Human. His eyes were glazed over now and his expression; Ice cold. He was every bit the killer he grew up to be. He strode forward with purpose towards the cockpit. He noticed the door sliding open and the other Human going inside. Mez reached the doorway and peered through the cockpit window. What he saw was the Gygan standing in front of the airlock they had talked about entering. It was barely open but he could easily make out movement on the floor beyond her. It was a blue and rather fluid-like thing. He enhanced his optical lenses, quickly discovering that the thing was actually plural and they were droids of some kind, similar to a Rock-Beetle back on Visipia. The human who had entered the cockpit began to speak about an incoming asteroid field. "The human is right, those two are jeopardizing the mission. And I don't intend to be shot to shit by a bunch of space rocks."

"The human is right, those two are jeopardizing the mission. And I don't intend to be shot to shit by a bunch of space rocks."

"Right now I can only see two ways this plays out with me still alive and flying," Felix called back over his shoulder towards the open doorway, his eyes never leaving his screens as he slowly moved the shuttle closer to the Lone Star. "Either you let me dock this crate safely and you all get off so I can fly clear before those rocks start hitting us, or I abort and get the hell out of here."

Setting off a hard blast of the thrusters to keep the shuttle in line with the spinning dreadnaught Felix swore softly to himself as the ship jerked under his controls, losing the positioning of the maintenance lock yet again. "Now unless you can find a way to help your colleagues out there then may I suggest you shut the hell up and let me do my job?"

"Now unless you can find a way to help your colleagues out there then may I suggest you shut the hell up and let me do my job?" @SimplyJohn

Mez didn't take kindly to being told what to do, especially in the manner that the pilot had spoken. But alas, he was under duress. 'Pathetic Humans, they can barely manage the pressures of even the simplest tasks.' He thought to himself. Mez remained silent for a short few seconds before speaking again. "Do you have any way of prematurely extending the umbilical? You have two cybernetically enhanced beings whose machinery still operates effectively in the voids of space. We could both assist with guiding the ship in so long as we're locked onto the Star. Those droids will be an issue though but the Syndarin seems to have that covered." He needn't inform him that he'd expected there to be some form of life on the ship. As big as his ego was, the pilot probably couldn't handle that as well as the ship right now.

"Do you have any way of prematurely extending the umbilical?" @Kalas

Felix's hands danced over the control panel, trying to coordinate all the thrusters on the shuttle and the same time as they inched closer to the wreck. "There's a lever inside the airlock, on the upper left side of the outer hatch. Yank it down and the umbilical will deploy. You can fine tune it using the monitor just below the lever and the controls beside it. Won't be needing a perfect lock, just one good enough to hold pressure until you get the party aboard."

---

Out of the hull of the Lone Star the droids swarming towards Hundred suddenly stopped and tilted their heads down to face the armour plated hull. Beams of coherent energy began to slice into the seams between the plate Hundred was clinging to and the next while more droids moved around to cut around the other edges.

One of the droids scuttled forwards, its own cutting beam reaching out for the Dust lance still piercing into the ship's innards. Its intention was clear, to cut through the invading material and free its home from the attacker's control.

"T minus three and a half minutes, Felix."

Simon kept his eyes on the field of floating rocks. They were in his field of view now, a roiling, seething mass of destruction that was tumbling towards them. With the Visipian behind them almost irate with their struggling, they finally came up with a plan. The umbilical would be essential in getting a docking secure, but that would require precision. Something...He knew who to ask.

He kept himself in the co-pilot chair, but swivelled to face the interior of the ship. Farvis, was it? Wasn't he a doctor as well? He knew medical practitioners such as himself had a fine degree of motor precision in guiding things to where they were meant to be. As much as he liked having the alien on the controls, his brain told him a two man job would be better. This was a surgical procedure alright, and if no one was going to take charge, he would.

"Farvis! You're a doctor, right? Why not get yourself in that airlock, help our friend here guide the umbilical! We need to do this soon or we're all dead meat!"

He quickly swivelled back to the viewport. In the time it had taken for him to do all of that, the field of asteroids had grown in size. They had next to no time. Either this team work as a team or everything here would be for -

The blue drones at the Star suddenly sprung to life, cutting through the hull section that their bot (Hundred, was it?) was clinging to.

Uh oh.

That added a wrinkle to the whole surgery. Now they needed a combat specialist out there to take care of the drones if Hundred and the Syndari woman were occupying themselves with helping the crew get in. An easy fix. He spun around again.

"Alright, change of plans. Farvis, you man the umbilical monitor, guide it in remotely. You, Visipian whose name escapes me, you take his place in the airlock. You are armed, yes? You're perfect to take care of those blue drones harassing our crew outside. That good?"

Once done, he returned his attention to the asteroids.

"T minus two minutes."

"There's a lever inside the airlock, on the upper left side of the outer hatch. Yank it down and the umbilical will deploy. You can fine tune it using the monitor just below the lever and the controls beside it. Won't be needing a perfect lock, just one good enough to hold pressure until you get the party aboard." @SimplyJohn

"Perfect." Mez replied. He moved to spring into action but the droids' change of movement caught his eye. "Looks like time's about to run out." He stated before moving back into rear bay. Quickly scouring the ship, his eyes fell on a equipment locker towards the end of the bay. He'd need a comm-link headset to be able to communicate with the Gygan outside. Mez crossed the bay in less that five strides and wrenched open the locker door. The following smirk on his face meant he'd found what he was looking for; a powerful shortwave comm-link headset. All he needed now was to cannibalize it for the transmitter and insert it into one of the many sub-ports of his Direct Neural Interface. He could use his body to amplify the transmission range and communicate with Hundred.

Before he'd finished thinking of what he wanted to do, Mez was already walking towards the airlock, the transmitter was now sending out radio waves at 200% more power which allowed the waves to be able to cut through space. "Hundred, do you copy? Come in, Hundred. I am going to release the shuttle's umbilical early using the manual override. I need you to ensure a positive lock on with the Lone Star, nothing perfect but enough to pressurize the walkway. We have less than 5 minutes ETA on an asteroid shower which'll mean mission failure if we don't do this now."

Mez punched the control panel of the airlock, pressurizing the small room. It took a few seconds but far longer than it needed. Once he was inside, he followed the Pilot's direction. True to his word, the lever was there. Mez pulled it which activated a series of loud clunks and a hissing sound. 'The umbilical must be moving.' He quickly turned his gaze to the monitor and keyed in a few simple commands via the control pad. Like everything else on board the shuttle, the computer systems proved rudimentary. So Mez only had to alter a few sub-routines in order to exact the optimum speed efficiency for the extending walkway.

Hundred's frown had never left. It certainly didn't change when the ships macrobot accompaniment swarmed out of the arresting airlock. With a thought she impelled the Dust further into the airlocks mechanisms. Ah. There was the problem. She should have checked first. Her comm crackled. She snarled at the pilots castigation. He was right to berate her. She had not performed as she had tacitly implied.

Hundred took a moment in the flurry of activity around her person. She examined the Star bots' movement patterns. They may have been upkeep drones, trapped in a process loop, unable to perform their scheduled maintenance due to the faulty door mechanism. No, not faulty, sabotaged. The bots surrounded her, the emitters on their cutting lasers adjusting. Her frown deepened even further. Hostile then. She was more interested in the one maneuvering over to her micro-channel. They had the wherewithal to target her Dust. Curious. Her comm was filled with the beam of another of her mission mates. The Visipian. Hundred did not like the Visipians. The Consortium did not like them either, but she didn't see that as much of a point in their favor. They were dogmatic, fascistic, too much like the Consortium for comfort. But their methods were barbarous. Conquest. War. Wasteful. But most damning of all, they possessed technologies that Gyges had yet to replicate. Divine Energy. A superstitious designation. A weak grip upon the fire whose secrets they alone had discovered. But he had given her a gift. A goal. Redemption. Five minutes.

"It will be done in one." Hundred raised her arms, fingers flickering tactile commands. Dust around her compacted and formed, layer upon layer of tightly packed Fullerenes wrapped around each other, growing, hardening, sharpening. From Dust to dagger, little black spikes of graphene, bristling around her in a satellite sphere. She looked around herself at the busy little bots. So large, so few, so primitive. Her hand waved dismissively. Her teeth bared. It was almost a smile. Punching into the closest hostile robots, the spikes split upon intentional faults, fragmenting into flechettes, shredding the interiors of the bots trying to unseat her footing. Striding forwards a second wave of spikes formed to deal with the rest of the offensive constructs. She flexed her right hand, just above her open palm another longer, leaner blade began to form the constructing edge of it's black blade radiating a sharp golden glow. She stepped over the half-melted lip of the plating she was standing on, moving back towards the airlock. Her other hand waved dismissively again, the second set of spikes shot forth to enforce her lethal contempt for the machines that had lost her face.

It would be done in the next 47 seconds. She was keeping count.

The moment the tiny little bots began firing their lasers, Sevyn fired into the swarm, jumping from target to target. She felt the shuttle beneath her inching every slowly forward as it clumsily tried to align itself with the open airlock. She considered the idea of throwing one of her EMP grenades into the two meter hole, a relatively easy target, but deemed it too risky once the shuttle started extending its umbilical tube.

Once the tube started moving, Sevyn moved herself to its lip, still firing at the droids as the silent thump, thump, thump of her magnetic boots causing a dull reverb throughout the umbilical.

Meanwhile Jemini tried to make herself useful by calculating the trajectory of the tube and sending the necessary minor adjustments needed to align it with the Lone Star to the shuttle pilot while she took shots at the stationary droids. She chirped and whirred angrily, even beeping once to express her extreme displeasure at having to work with the current shuttle pilot, though the droid couldn't place a value on either Sevyn's or the less-than-adequate shuttle pilot's maneuvering, seeing as how both were equally annoying.

Sevyn was edging out on top though, considering she was standing at the lip of tube, ready to snap herself into the tube right before it would attach to the Lone Star instead of staying outside of taking care of all the bots all because of her stupid desire to be the first inside the derelict dreadnought.

But then again, why else would she have teamed up with a bunch of ruffians if the rest couldn't handle themselves in a little scrap.

JR was no less anxious to get on the Star, but the rate at which people seemed to be stepping out was both impressive and astonishing. Aside from the Gygan, it didn't really make much sense for anyone to be going for the ship without having been docked, but at least it made for some entertainment. At least until it seemed as though things were... well, going. He definitely began to get an apprehensive feeling about boarding the ship, though it made him all the more anxious to get onboard and find out why. There was definitely something about that ship.

He stood himself up at the mention of them docking with the dreadnought, knowing that it wouldn't take much longer now. He was more than ready to board, though he couldn't help but be distracted by two of his apparent crewmates' bickering. The two of them were either going at each others throats, or organizing their next romantic getaway, or both. It was definitely hard to tell, and he was sure plenty of sarcasm was flying through the shuttle. He couldn't help but chuckle at some of their remarks.

The window through the airlock showed their point of entry, a few hundred meters away at this point. The movements of the shuttle were jarring at points, but JR bore through it. It definitely wouldn't be the first time. "Well then, who's ready to party?" he asked, eyes still fixed on the Lone Star's airlock.

"Watch out, we're incoming!" Felix screamed into the radio as the shuttle drew closer to the dreadnought, its thruster fire swelling across the ancient plating, burning away a few of the scurrying droids as they finished cutting into the hull plating. They seemed unconcerned with their dwindling numbers as both Sevyn and Hundred targeted their colleagues, instead setting into the damaged innards of the ship's docking mechanism with a single-minded devotion. The spinning hull fragment spun off into the cold darkness of space, drifting passed the shuttle's viewports with an almost serene grace.

A groaning shriek of twisting metal echoed inside the shuttle's compartments as the umbilical made contact with the Lone Star's hull, scraping a couple of inches before the magnetic clamps managed to lock into place on the ancient plating. The placement wasn't ideal with the maintenance hatch a little off-centre, but it was a good solid lock which would be more than sufficient for the party to board.

"You guys had better be going," Felix called through the 'com as his fingers danced a grim fandango across the thruster controls. "That asteroid belt's coming up fast."

"T minus one minute and closing!"

That was the last thing that escaped Simon's mouth before several tons of space-grade steel plowed straight into the Star's hull. The screech was ear splitting, but after all was done, the umbilical was locked firmly in place by the magnetic clamps. Felix had done his job, now it was time for them to do theirs. Simon stood, unclipped a slightly bent piece of plas-steel from his chest plate and bolted it into place on the back of his neck guard. The folded piece of equipment powered up and unfolded with a rhythmic whirring and clicking, extending itself up over his head and around his ears, the helmet slowly forming itself in place. The last thing to form itself was the faceplate, which he left up while he excited the cockpit, not without giving Felix a pat on the shoulder.

"Good job Felix, thank you. We'll take it from here, you busy yourself with getting out of the way of those rocks."

Without waiting for anyone else he booked it from the cockpit, grabbing his rifle from the bench as he strode towards the shuttle's airlock. He pushed his way ("excuse me sorry") past the Visipian, Mez, and tapped the airlock control. He turned back to the remaining crew still within the ship, a grimace on his face.

"Colleagues, we have to leave, now."

He nodded his head and his faceplate slid down and snapped into place, the viewports of the stark white helmet lighting up in a crimson red cross.

"Otherwise we all perish."

Without waiting for anyone else he booked it from the cockpit, grabbing his rifle from the bench as he strode towards the airlock. He pushed his way ("excuse me sorry") past the Visipian, Mez, and tapped the airlock control. He turned back to the remaining crew still within the ship, a grimace on his face.

The shuttle airlock quickly cycled open. With the sealed unbilical on the far side the system knew not to waste time decompressing the chamber and Simon found himself looking down the passage towards where Sevyn waited for him.

Mez felt the shuttle jolt as the umbilical finally connected to the dreadnought, it wasn't perfect, just as Felix had said, but it would do the job. "We have a solid connection on the umbilical tube." He began radioing to the Gygan. "Keep those things away from the hatch whilst we open her up. You can follow in behind us once the shuttle disconnects from the ship." He moved to open the airlock and enter the walkway but was pushed aside by someone from behind. That someone was adorned in a brilliantly white battle-suit, or so it looked. His enhanced sense of smell informed him that the person was Human. A fact confirmed when the being turned to face him and the others still on board the shuttle. It was the co-pilot.

"Why the rush, Human? Scared you're going to be left behind?" He said, a feral tone taking place in his voice. "Well you should be, because if you push past me again, I'll see to it that you never set another foot off of that ship." He nodded in the direction of the Lone Star then glowered at the man. A look of disgust overcame him, their stench was repulsive. Humans were commonly thought of as sacks of slowly decaying meat. Good for nothing except sating the hunger of a Helkite back on Visipia. Though they were somewhat intelligent, their physical forms were weak and easily broken, rendering them useless when compared against him.

"Well you should be, because if you push past me again, I'll see to it that you never set another foot off of that ship." -@Kalas

"I wear this armour not for show, Mez. Remove the medical officer and no one will be getting off her alive. Not even Hundred."

What an arrogant prick! Just because he was mostly machine meant that he could order other people around? The nerve! Simon restrained his growing anger; besides, no one could see his face behind the faceplate anyway. Now he knew why Visipians were among the most hated race in the galaxy. They were a bunch of arrogant twats!

Still, Mez did have a point; he didn't want to be left behind, not while he had unfinished business on this ship. That was a certainty. While some of the crew may not return alive, he most certainly was.

Oh yes. Simon Brewer was going to live.

He hoped.

---

"Dr. Brewer, why have you come to me with this report? It doesn't even concern you."

"It does, Director. I've been waiting a long time to get onto that ship. Years, in fact."

"Well that doesn't change the fact that you're still an integral part of our research staff, Dr Brewer. You're essential to the corporation's work here on Titan."

"I know, director, which is why I have a proposition."

"…do tell, doctor."

"Well our wing has just launched their newest prototype for the latest line of reactive armour plating, but with the relative peace in our sector there hasn't been enough live testing grounds to assure quality in our product."

"Go on."

"You know of my credentials in this company, director. I'm the only field tester you have."

"And a very good one, doctor. Which is why you're so valuable to us; until we can find more to serve along with you, we're putting you on hold."

"But -"

"No buts, Dr Brewer. You're staying here."

"Director…I have other reasons. You know that covert research project I'm on?"

"Yes?"

"Well I believe the Lone Star holds the key to finishing my paper. It's in there, somewhere in that space hulk. I have to find it. You know how much this means to me."

"Mmm…Simon, as a friend, I do know how much this means to you."

"Then all the more reason you should let me go! I already read the summons: there's a full team assembled already, they just need a medical officer to tie everyone together! That's all the reason for me to go! I get to finish my thesis and research paper, and PharmCo gets its first rigorous stress test for its new armour. Win win!"

"Simon -"

"And after this I'll be out of your hair. I'll go back to R&D and continue stress testing our product line as I always have. No more problems."

"<exasperated sigh> Alright Simon, you can go, but on one condition: keep this secret. Only send your updates to me and no one else. Otherwise, I'll have you geared up with the best we can offer. The Amsad, the LASC, your patented FSFA and enough medical supplies to last you a while. And a printer for your ammunition. You'll need it."

"Thank you, Director Johnson. Thank you. I promise I'll be back safe."

"I hope so, Simon. Best of luck, and maybe when you return I'll break open that bottle of Serrice Ice Brandy to celebrate."

---

The words were still clear as day. He'd made a promise, both to Johnson and himself. Behind the faceplate he gritted his teeth. The anger and frustration would take a back seat for now. He had a job to do, and his life depended on it.

For the company.

For Johnson.

For himself.

"I'll do it. Just let me in. I mean you no ill will - I mean I -" @DJAtomika

Marga silently watched a man she guessed was human - or at least mostly anyway, it wasn't always that easy to tell. He didn't exactly fit the demographic of the ragtag group of misfits the Navy had assembled to breach the Lone Star, but then again, like she'd just thought, looks could be deceiving. Marga made a mental note to keep an eye on that one, sensing he would either be a great ally for her or an impossible hinderance. Well, that was if she actually ended up inside the dreadnought. At present, she was still formulating a plan to avoid just that.

Marga took to searching the passenger chamber of the Navy shuttle for her possessions. There were a couple of locked compartments, but their structure was so pathetically predictable that the thief didn't even need her lock picketing tools to open them. She found what she was looking for less than sixty seconds after she started looking. Straightening up, Marga slipped her hand into her taser gun and secured it; slung a messenger-style bag full of her explosives and various bomb making equipment over her shoulder; stuffed her lock picks and hacking devices into said bag; then proceeded to place her breathing mask over her head and onto her neck and placed her goggles onto her head.

Finally feeling fully dressed, Marga surveyed the door to the pilot and blatantly ignored the worsening situation outside the military vessel. Her list of problems was full enough without having to add psychotic robots, an impeding astroid field and quite probable imminent death to it. If she could get into the pilot's cabin, she could take control of the ship. Well, maybe. The other members of her "team" might not take kindly to her stealing their ride home and buggering off with it to the other side of the galaxy, leaving them stranded. Marga contemplated this and came to the conclusion that she would wait for the others to first leave the shuttle before blowing open the door separating her from the ship's controls. A nerve gas bomb would quickly incapacitate the pilot. It wasn't too bad of a plan, even if it was a bit shabby. Her piloting skills weren't exceptional, but all she had to do was get far enough away to vanish. Luckily disappearing was one of Marga's best talents.

"Why the rush, Human? Scared you're going to be left behind? Well you should be, because if you push past me again, I'll see to it that you never set another foot off of that ship." @Kalas

"I wear this armour not for show, Mez. Remove the medical officer and no one will be getting off her alive. Not even Hundred." @DJAtomika

"Boys, boys, please. Let me get out a ruler and you two can settle this," Marga teased and made sure to wink at them.