"I'd noticed," Mark said when Tanya pointed out that few of the Nova crew spent too much time sober, "usually I can tell what somebody is drinking from the smell, but there were so many different flavors wafting about the kitchen it was too difficult to tell them apart. Nothing brings people together like their love of booze."

He glanced over as the mechanic set the empty can next to him and chuckled briefly but got the point. He tapped the ashes from his cigarette into the container and placed it back between his lips. He listened quietly as she gave him a quick summary of how she'd ended up here and noted the thoughtful pause in her story. Seemed that there might be a bit more holding this crew together than greed. Mark wondered how he'd fit into a group like that. He wasn't exactly the touchy feely type, but he was reliable. And loyal to those that deserved it. He may never have the same connection with the others that they had with each other, but if he could make it work, at least he'd have somebody trustworthy watching his back.

Tanya's question about his time with the feuding mercs brought him back. "Well I wasn't working for both at the same time obviously. Not officially anyway. Like you say, they hate each other, so I just played off that. They'll do just about anything to take each other down."
Mark grinned and gazed upward, contemplating his old exploits. "Those were the good ol days, I'll have to tell you about it sometime."

He tossed the remainder of the cigarette into the makeshift ashtray as Tanya came from behind the screen where she'd been prepping for the rescue. For his part, he started doing some simple stretches and cracked his neck.
"Nah," he said when she offered to mod the rifle he'd claimed, "she's perfect how she is. I only fire semi automatic anyway. More efficient. What's the plan for this rescue anyway?"
He looked around the cargo bay, wondering if he'd missed something.
"How are we supposed to board without a shuttle?"

"Very carefully." Tanya replied, pulling out segments of her armour and laying them out on her work bench to quickly inspect them before donning it. "We don't have a shuttle, and we lack proper ship on ship locking apparatus. Still haven't had enough jobs to afford all the fun toys, and let's face it; how often does something like this happen?" she asked rhetorically. "I have a plan, isn't a good one, but so far bullshitting our way through things has worked." she gestured to a shipping container behind Mark. "First thing's first, we'll need that."

_ _ _ _ 

"So, either this will work, or it'll be hilarious until one of us dies." Tanya said to the gathered boarding party, all of whom were in armour and armed for the expedition. She held up a length of long chord. "This is how we're getting on board to see our friends in the distressed ship that's probably still crawling with Blood Pack. Ladies, let me introduce you to the Model 25 dash DC8 Extra Vehicular Activity safety line. Most of you haven't seen these before because they, like that M-96 strapped on Mark's back, is something we picked up, threw into storage, and promptly forgotten about. The area around my workshop is like a graveyard for forgotten goods, by the way. Chances are, if you think we need something, it's in one of the dozens of crates we have stacked around." she said, handing out caribiners each of the people gathered around the airlock near the bow of the ship. 

"Since we don't have proper docking equipment, we're going EVA and relying on good-old fashioned physics. We don't have to worry much about the Blood Pack noticing Tyrus since her stealth drives are engaged, so let's hope they're too busy doing their dirty work to glance out the window. Everyone who's remaining behind are going to monitor communications and sensors and make sure that the ship's ready to bug out if things turn sour. Our lack of proper preparation here might actually be an advantage: The Blood Pack ship can't engage us until it's properly disconnected from the one we're both boarding, where we can just hop back in and go. Currently, on the other side of the airlock, is a maintenance hatch, used by crew members who need to do repairs on the hull of the ship. That's how we're getting in.

"Each length of chord is about 200 feet, so we should have plenty of length between the three coils. With the airlock open, we tie one end of the rope to the hard points just outside of the exterior door, and the other to whoever volunteers to make the leap with me. Worst case scenario, you fuck up the jump and need to be pulled back in to try again. Ideally, though, we hit the hull of the ship, tie off on the maintenance hook points, and then open the door, which I'm pretty sure I can have open in about fifteen seconds. Once the other end of the rope is secure to the other ship, the rest of the boarding party clips on with their caribiners and pulls themselves along towards the other ship. If this were any simpler, it would be high school calculus. Once we're done, everyone goes back the same way, I hook back onto my suit, and you guys drag me back to Tyrus.

"One we're all across, and I have the hatch open, we'll go in single file, in teams of two. I'll let you guys figure out who your buddies are, but let's get the bastards who have a hard on for fighting in first. We stack up inside the airlock, and as soon as the exterior hatch is closed, we should have a few moments before the interior pressure equalizes and the door unlocks. There's no telling if anyone's going to be on the other side, so be ready to start shooting. Chances are, if it's a krogan or vorcha, you fucking shoot it." Tanya looked over at Kygg and shrugged. "Sorry, Kygg. We'll try not to shoot you too much."

The engineer slipped on her helmet, securing the seals. "Although each of our suits are a bit different, I know each of us has about an a hour and a half worth of air in the suit, which should be plenty to get aboard the ship and back again, even with occasional heavy breathing. Don't forget to engage the maglocks on your boots when you hit the hull of the ship so you don't go bouncing around into each other and can make it into the access hatch easily. I'll leave the tactical shit for whomever drew team leader for this one, but until we're on board, follow my lead. This is how I earn my cut." she said confidently, securing the caribiner to the end of one end of coil and then to her armour. "Remember, this is a distress call. It's looking pretty fucking bad for whoever's on board, but we're going to help them any way we can. We worry about survivors first, then whatever cargo they're carrying. In the event everybody's fucking dead, we'll see if we can't secure their cargo for ourselves. I'll be fucked before I let the goddamn Blood Pack get the better of us. Alright, Nova. Time to earn ourselves a little side money."

As soon as everyone's helmets were secure and their magboots activated, Tanya opened the airlock, exposing the team to the endless black void of space and the damaged, boarded vessel dominating the team's view. Tanya walked over to the lip of the airlock, feeling a slight tinge of vertigo as inches away from her toes was quite literally a bottomless drop-off. She knew that even without her magboots, she wouldn't fall unless she pushed herself off, but human beings were never meant to get used to the idea of weightlessness. While she was anchored to the steel grating of the ship, up and down still very much accounted for her subconscious perspective. Leaning out of the ship, she secured the other end of the coil to an anchor point with a caribiner and stepped back, looking back at the team. "Well, here goes nothing." She said, heart pounding from excitement and no small amount of nervousness. She took a couple steps back, taking a few deep breaths to steady her breathing. Mentally, she told herself that the other ship was down, and that she was falling towards it, not jumping a horizontal leap. She lowered herself into a crouch, grabbing a handhold, and once she decided on her trajectory, deactivated her magboots and pushed off, floating towards the looming white-silver hull of the ship across from her. 

As she floated, the coil trailing behind her and being fed by one of the team, she dared not look at anywhere but her destination, because even the slightest motion or jerking around could alter her course, enough to miss her mark, and in not-so-extreme cases, the entire fucking ship. It was peaceful, the only sound being her own breathing as she floated weightlessly towards her target, which while only about 40 meters away now, felt like kilometers. After what felt several minutes longer than the handful than the journey actually took, Tanya activated her magboots again when she approached the hull, and the combination of her momentum and the electro-magnetic attraction sucked her into position, hitting the hull with an inaudible thud. Even how thick the hull of a starship was, nobody aboard would have heard her impact. She now looked around to get her bearings. Tyrus loomed reassuringly close, and she could see her teammates looking back at her. Most offered reassuring gestures, and in one case, she made out gesture of a middle finger. She laughed over comms. "Yeah, fuck you too." she said, looking for the access hatch, finding it about 12 meters away. [I]Not too bad, considering I haven't done this before.[/I] she thought proudly, walking over to it. 

Finding an anchor point, Tanya detached herself from the coil and attached it to the anchor point, while she positioned herself to another one, securing herself before gesturing to the others. "We're in business, come on over. The grass is greener, or some other reassuring bullshit." she said, focusing her attention now on the access hatch. Interfacing with the connection, Tanya's omni-tool sprang to life and she began to start a by-pass. Several seconds later, the locks on the hatch disengaged and she was able to pry the door open. As the team began to arrive, she held open the hatch and gestured dramatically. "Ladies first."