2177/Hotrodding (In Space)

Hotrodding (In Space)
Date of Scene:	06 May 2015
Location:	Flotilla Space
Synopsis:	Juno Eclipse, under the mercenary guise "Blackout," arrives to do some work on Starbound Flotilla ships for George, Albert, and the rest of the flotilla.
Cast of Characters:	428, Starbound Flotilla

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Starbound Flotilla has posed:
The AMATERASU lunar mining facility and shipyard has cleared away the FUJIN-Starbound Technology Expo's theatrical elements, leaving it entirely practical. A massive, circular facility built on the surface of the moon. It is sleek, industrial, powerful. The mining and shipyard areas in the center are ergonomic and small without being cramped, while the crew facilities and residential areas on the outer rim of the facility are wide open spaces, full of huge windows and broad well-lit hallways. Everything is safe and secure; sturdy airlocks will isolate any breaches, heavy duty oxygen atmosphere generators keep the surrounding acres of bare, dusty moon surface breathable.

The Flotilla's Core Fleet, considerably-sized Kestrel-Class ships, remains high in orbit, but a small Hylotl craft that the Starbounders took from the Ring of Thorns is currently docked in one of the six spaces ready for ships here, each surrounded by high-power mechanical apparatuses used for robotic manufacturing and repair. George, Albert, and Pavo are all here though, of course, though Pavo is currently busy with engine fussing already, leaving the main pair here as the socially available ones. George is off to one side, currently smoking, while Albert is busy organizing something in his Matter Manipulator's holographic display. Both are ready to meet up with Blackout, of course; a nearby teleporter beacon ought to let her beam in easily.

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
The small ship on approach to the AMATERASU lunar mining facility looks right at home in the midst of the mixed ships in high orbit above the base. Most likely that's because it was originally from this universe; a heavily modified Apex Starling-class vessel.

It might fool someone at a distance, but up close, or through sensor arrays, the ship feels subtly wrong. It's not bulky enough by half to represent the true Apex design standards, and in fact, it has no hint of weaponry to break up the monotony of its durasteel hull plating.

Fortunately it doesn't take long to park the adorable little spaceboat at an unoccupied dock mooring, and once the ship is securely docked and the engines fully shut down, its pilot is already loping aft to the teleporter pad to reappear with the others.

Juno's dressed simply today, with dark pocket-laden pants and boots too scuffed to be uniform-issue. Her shirt is a simple white tank top, although its faded oil stains and slightly threadbare appearance suggests she saves the garment for this sort of work. She's also a little more toned than most might expect of a pasty pilot who never sees the sun, and crisscrossed with faint, mostly insignificant scars over bare shoulders and arms – all that hard work digging around in starships pays off, and it looks like she hasn't gotten away from the occasional little scrape.

Slung around her waist is a fairly sophisticated toolbelt, with magnetic clamps holding a dizzying array of hydrospanners, welding lances, and other nearly miniaturised tools in place. She has a bundle of cases clutched in her right arm, and the size and shapes suggest they're duplicate tool sets.

"I hope I didn't keep you waiting too long." Juno lifts a hand in casual greeting to both George and Albert. "This shouldn't take too long, and it should give your Starling-classes a good boost to the engines. I can show you how I do it, too, if you want to do some work on any, ah, new acquisitions." Stolen? Pshaw. They're just borrowed. For a very long time.

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
George is the one who speaks up first. The bearded, middle-aged adventurer gives a friendly, casual wave to Juno. He's out of his usual combat outfit, and in his gray Staff Assistant uniform, a jumpsuit with blue markings on the upper arms. "Nah." He says, brightly. "Not got a lot else to do, you know? Between my choices of places to take my smoke break, we had 'here', and 'on my ship', and 'the surface of some shithole planet in this backwater quadrant', so hey! Might as well, right?" He'll offer her a handshake that halfway offers a bro-pound, just for the hell of it. "Good to have you onboard. Pavo's already refitting the engine with some of the semi-magical FTL drives we were working with, but non-FTL's untouched. Let's get to work, huh?"

George pushes off of the railing he was leaning against and heads to the ship. He's gotten to the point where he can command the array of mechanical arms here by gesture alone, and immediately they dive in to unseal and expose the engine components near the back, cleanly stripping plates away to let anyone take a good look at them. Pavo's in a harness connected to a cord suspended above, currently busy fussing with some crystaline apparatus with a hefty thruster-like machine emerging from it. The crystals have a blatantly magical appearance to them.

Albert also has a few greetings to Juno. "Blackout." He says, giving her a very practiced, military sort of greeting. "Welcome. I've prepared all the necessary parts you might need for Starling-class ship engineering. You've got some programming to do for it you'd prefer to keep secret for various circumstances." He makes a grunt of mild frustration, but an understanding sort; he doesn't begrudge Juno, he just wishes circumstances were more convenient. "That will be fine. Inform me of the details of what output modulations are necessary and I'll work on prototyping the regulation systems myself."

Where George commands hardware, Albert commands software; tapping a button on his Matter Manipulator, its built-in holoprojector begins displaying flat, holographic panels at each section of the engine apparatus, displaying their firmware-level code modules and their connections, making it easy for Juno to point out what needs dealing with, and for Albert to begin his own operation. It's also a bit of a fancy lightshow, but Albert seems almost averse to the fanciness; his chosen interface skin is completely barebones and utterly practical.

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"I guess this is the best place for that." Juno doesn't smoke, herself, but she understands the vice. Her own vice is coffee and stimcaf, and occasionally straight-up stimulants to stay alert. The life of an Imperial pilot is hardly boring, but Inquisitors are always on-call, and work tends to get in the way of bothersome necessities like sleep. "At least nothing's going to eat you here."

Half a glance is swept over the facility, and she remembers, briefly, that glimpse of otherworldly fuel matter. Erchius is creepy stuff.

"Probably," she adds, more dubiously.

She doesn't sound completely convinced, even as she returns that handshake. Her grip is strong; she looks momentarily puzzled by the bro-fist. The return is kind of awkward.

"Semi-magical FTL? I'm afraid that's a little beyond my skillset. I can definitely look over the sublights, though," she adds, patting the rather expensive toolbelt. "Let's have a look."

She trails after George, studying the hangar even as she does; it doesn't look to have changed, but habit tells her to know where the exits are. Her day job basically boils down to 'getaway driver.' It pays to know where the exits are. Or maybe she's just paranoid.

"Thanks, Albert." She returns his greeting with a professional sort of nod, not quite saluting. Maybe it's that military bearing of his that promps that kind of respect; a subconscious sort of thing. "Sorry. There's not a lot I can reveal about the core of my ship, but I can do a pretty close fit with some improvisation on your other cores. It's not going to be on the level of my other ship, but I think it's going to be an improvement over what you've got."

Her attention is briefly taken by the Matter Manipulator, and she may or may not be making a mental note to get herself one of those things at some point. Handy tool, that. There's nothing quite like it under Imperial resources.

Albert, meanwhile, earns a rattling-off of the technical instructions she needs done to the ship's computer. She's come prepared, and while it's not a total overhaul of the systems, it's a pretty deep job. Considering her ship still runs and hasn't smacked into an asteroid yet, she must know what she's doing!

"Right. As soon as you've got that ready, I can get started. Oh, and I'm going to need to get inside those engines, too." Juno folds her arms, considering the ship. They really are kind of cute, for a starship. There's something charming about their lines and aesthetics; a sort of personality completely different from the Empire's designs. "So I guess this technology must've spread more or less laterally in your universe," she comments, even as she saunters over to the exposed engine. "Most of the designs I've seen look similar."

Reaching for a pair of gloves she'd folded through her belt, she puts them on, flexing her fingers into the heavy welding gloves'. "Oh, and I'm going to need to borrow a welding mask, if you've got any. I'll need to be going a little deeper into those sublights."

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
"Yeah, we don't use the FTL stuff for close-in stuff and the real agility work." George says, still keeping that big grin on. "But we kinda ran out of Erchius crystals, way back in the day, see, and we kinda had to make due with whatever we could find. So Pavo worked out how to use some other world's magic crystals for it, so we raided them and stole basically everything. It was great times, you shoulda been there!" He laughs at this, seeming to be really amused by the memories. "A statue punched me in the face."

Albert grunts, reaching directly into his matter manipulator and tossing something to George. The half-pill-shaped helmet barely leaves anything but the chin uncovered, and has an ominous red visor, but once it's on, it should be easy enough to work with and see through. It seems to have been crafted out of some kind of supertough animal plate and some iron, though, and the visor... Well, it's not glass, it's not metal, it's not any organic compounds. It's just Matter. "Brought one." Albert says. "Name any further protective gear you need as we go."

George hands the helmet off to Juno. "Here ya go. Try not to focus on the visor much. Anyway, get deep in as you want, you're the one that helped us get this thing in the first place." While Juno examines the exits, she'll find there's plenty. The central area they're at is open to space from above, leaving this area sustained by oxygen generator, but also meaning there's entrances and exits running along the interior of the outer ring of the shipyard area.

"Lateral, I suppose, yeah. More like, honestly, we didn't have a ton of time to expand vertically. We hit space – that is, humanity did – just before the Hylotls, and it wound up kinda spreading out from there, but it didn't take long for the whole Floran-Avian fiasco to bring the whole house of cards just, poof, tumbling and burning." George says, laughing at that last part. "And then, hey, suddenly everyone wants the scientists to figure out bigger guns and thicker armor instead of spaceships. Ah well, got what works, you know?" He sounds good-humored about it, like half of this may or may not actually be a joke.

"The Avian and Floran incident happened some time after the Resistance theorizes the Ministry of Knowledge came to power." Albert says, digging into his own work, getting prototyped bits of altered firmware set up in various elements of the engine. "Much Apex vehicle technology seems to have been reduced to lower the options available to the resistance. There's likely more advanced craft than anything we see in the galaxy in the hands of Miniknog elite." Always about the Miniknog, this guy. "But you're right. Human designs spread to the Hylotl. Hylotl missionaries spread it to the Avians, the Novakids, the Apex. The Glitch develop their own independently." He doesn't offer an explanation for that; he probably doesn't have one.

George seems to be rolling his eyes a bit. "Yeah, there's your history lesson. 'Shit spread chaotically', nice." He says, directing the robotic arms by gesture to strip away more plates, and removing modules temporarily, to let Juno properly step into the engine area itself. It'll be a bit cramped, but there's enough of a cavity here to sort of worm your way in. Same place on the Hylotl ship as it was on the Apex ship, looks like. "Starlings are pretty universal, but we all kinda figure out our own expansions on it over time. You seriously can't tell one goddamn Condor class from another one. I mean, you know, kinda defeats the purpose of having classes in the first place."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"Not really, but sometimes a little extra punch in hyperspace is worth the effort if you're trying to outrun something. Or if they're really, really determined to catch up with you." Juno offers a faint half-smile. "Smugglers have a habit of tuning their engines as tightly as they can, although it's a delicate balance if you're working with the hyperdrives. Too much performance and not enough integrity, and she'll shear to pieces the second you go into the blue."

To the rest, she looks a little dubious, quirking pale brows. "A statue punched you in the face." Should've been there? "No, thanks, it's probably better that I wasn't there. I'm actually not good at that sort of thing. Not really." She grins, waving a hand somewhat dismissively. "I'm a much better asset when I've got systems to slice into and my hands on a starship's controls."

The welding helmet is hefted and slid on, although Juno takes a few seconds to fiddle with it and adjust the sizing. Her voice is a little muffled. "Excellent. I'll try to replicate what I've done with the Slice Hound, as much as possible."

"It went both ways, in my corner of the galaxy. Bigger guns, heavier shielding, thicker hull armour, and faster engines. Engineers wanted it all. I suppose I'm better with engines, but I can improvise weapons and improve shielding if I have enough time." She settles the helmet, fumbling on her belt for the biggest welding lance she has. The safety's flicked off, and she gives it an experimental spit or two of blue flame.

Blue flame sends sparks spitting from the engine as she starts carving her way in, searching for increasingly delicate compartments beneath its chromed housing. It's incredibly noisy, but she talks while she gives the lance a rest. "Sounds like your galaxy's not without its problems, either. I suppose we've all got problems of our own. Most of my galaxy is ruled by the Galactic Empire, which in turn is run by Emperor Palpatine. There are pockets of resistance here and there, but the Core Worlds are prosperous, and on the whole they're pretty safe."

The statement's given neutrally, so it's not particularly easy to tell which side of the fence she herself lands on.

"Maybe. Or maybe the classes are based on more abstract criteria," she offers, not bothering to glance up at George. "It could be something as simple as engine output or maximum distance traversible on a fixed store of fuel, or even the grade of the hull plating, although it seems these are more like civilian ships. The Starling's weapon systems were fairly trivial. Even my other ship, which isn't meant for combat, had a heavier cannon."

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
George pops out a grappling hook, fires it at the top of the ship where it magnetically latches on, tugs it once, gets into position, hanging off of the ship itself. "Hyperdrives, huh? Erchius drives are all about the FTL, though I heard about some non-traditional space-jumping too, like going into weird unspaces like that. We're more about moving quick through normal space, though, and honestly, FTL's not gonna get a ton of help from that." With a snap, he's got his own helmet on, blinking into existence with a quick projection from his Matter Manipulator. Stylish!

"Alright, Blackout, ready to go. You lemme know what exterior hull stuff needs dealing with, or don't, and I'll just wing everything!" George says, another laugh on his words there. Always a joke with this guy. He seems to do it more around here. That is, of course, because he's never spent more than a few hours in a corporate facility without it trying to kill him or him blowing it up, or both, so he's a bit on edge around here. "Smuggling, I suppose I can see where the tuned-up FTL would work for that. We're a bit more punchy and industrial than that, though... Huh, could be good for some materials runs though."

Albert rumbles as he works more on his current task. "Space warfare. We had our share, but most of what we do is ground warfare. Close-quarters. Studied your home galaxy, and ours. Compared. More spaceborne resources in yours, almost all of ours are planetbourne. Underground, most of them. Galaxy started crumbling, so everyone fighting over anything does it in a hole on some planet." A heavier grunt. "Doesn't stop the Floran. Biteblade's been working on upgrading her railgun. 'Starhunter'. Have to have more ship-killer weapons if we're going to deal with galaxies like yours."

"Means we have more short-range equipment. More melee armor. Every fight is a fight in some cave, inside some base, or on some space station. Saw your share when we went up against the Ring." Albert says. He continues to gesture back and forth at the haptic interface of his holographic panels, drawing them in and out to arrange an abstracted representation of the programming here. Juno will be able to see the gentle flickers of holopanels zooming around her while she works.

Albert does seem to get a little moody, though. There's a few more apish grunts, before George says, "Hahaha, don't mind the chimp over there. Not a big fan of centralized government, you know. Specifically the kind with one big head-honcho like that. But, you know, politics and workplace. Keeps it under his hat." George just casually talks like Albert's not even there, though Albert doesn't take his bait.

George then offers, "The class stuff? I suppose the class stuff is kinda abstract, yeah. Honestly, we don't really figure it out ourselves, the SAIL units decide what class something is. I've seen things the size of Starlings have a Condor class, somehow. Just how it goes, you know? Accept whatever class, I guess. Seems kinda nonsensical, but there's some really comprehensive assessment thing they do. And my knowledge on it is approximately" He then makes a "pbbbbttttthhhhht" noise.

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"Hyperspace is... complicated." Juno kneels to get a better angle on a piece of reinforcement, the spitting torch casting her visor into sharp-edged blue relief. "Nobody really knows quite what it is. I think 'unspace' is as good an explanation as any. It's a multidimensional... well, dimension, and ships are hypothesised to interact with about five of its dimensions. The calculations just to get from Point A to Point B aren't for the faint of heart. Most people leave it to a navcomputer. I can do it in my head, but then again, astrogation and piloting are my specialty."

Juno pauses, glancing over her shoulder and lifting the visor for a moment, exhaling. It's starting to get hot down there. Those blue eyes wander over to George as he dangles from the ship with his magnetic grappling hook. "Most people find hyperspace unsettling." A gesture shunts the visor back down, and she returns to her work. "'Unspace' really is a good word for it. It's there, but... it's also not. Only a hyperdrive-equipped ship can even achieve hyperspace, and even I can't figure out the calculations for precisley how fast a ship's going when it hits the blue. I think it might be variable."

"Anyway, that's what everyone uses in my world. There are major corridors that carve through the galaxy called hyperlanes, and these hyperlanes are used as major travel routes and trade lanes. Ships are more or less safe in them, since there aren't any obstructions and, even with other ships, the nature of hyperspace makes things a bit... odd." She wobbles a hand in the equivalent of a shrug. "Anyway, it's just confusing, so there's not much point in thinking too hard on it. It's a thing. We use it. It works."

And they don't even need to use the blood of an eldritch horror or whatever to gas up their ships! Score.

"Actually," she adds over her shoulder to Albert, "I'd recommend just avoiding anything that has enough firepower to shoot at you. Most of what you'll find is going to be pretty heavy-hitting."

She shrugs, somewhat noncommittal, when George apologises for Albert's grumpiness. "Not everyone is. I'm not exactly going to hold it against you," Juno comments, glancing to Albert. Actually, her respect for the ape might have gone up a few notches. She's not necessarily sure she's fond of it, either.

"Maybe. I'm sure there's some kind of logic, but it must be non-standard criteria." Juno shrugs, turning back to her work. "I know the class criteria of the ships in my galaxy, but I'd need more time to study these to tell you what call the SAIL units are making."

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
George does his own work. He's got his own view of the internal engine compartment, given to him by a holoprojected overlay, so he's live-examining the interior, calculating new thrust values, and working out new hull arrangements for the atmospheric and outer-space maneuvering purposes, already stripping out plates and setting up the framework for new stuff. He doesn't have a welder, no, but his Matter Manipulator seems to do exactly the same thing. "Huh. Yeah, I know the kinda thing. Got all kinds of stories about that sort of stuff."

"Never buy anything from Discount Dan's line of soups and microwavable burritos, by the way. Or the soda. Their main factory was so regulation noncompliant that that shit fell into the unspace between dimensions." He delivers that part flatly. It's hard to tell if that's a joke or not. He does punctuate it with a shuddery kind of noise, so that just makes things even worse!

Albert grunts here. At least Juno can take his word at face value, but you can't ever take it at anything else. "Erchius is much the same. Think of it like hyperspace in this space. It obeys different, variable rules, and applies them to the world around us. Useful for travel. Engineering of all kinds." He finishes off something he's doing and runs a test-run of some firmware, causing lights to flicker on and off all throughout the interior of the ship. "You don't think too hard unless it's your job to think about it. Everyone has their place. You trust and delegate."

"A battle you don't have to fight in the first place is a battle you win." Albert says, as he works on compiling some fresh changes. "Not being there when the enemy is ready to shoot is equivalent to a fleet's worth of armor. You're someone who understands the value of that." He doesn't comment on what it might mean about Juno for her to understand that, but he does seem to think it's a good thing. In some fashion.

Albert makes another softer grumpy noise. "I know the flaws of my prejudice. No leader has universal respect. Nor can they have universal hate, or universal fear. I leave my judgement about your galaxy's leaders unformed, until I hear any suffering it causes with my own ears or see it with my own eyes." That seems to be him putting the matter out of his mind as much as he intends to put the matter to rest in conversation.

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"Even I don't know fully what it is, and I'm spending half my time in it." Juno shrugs, before diving back into her welding. "It's hardly the kind of thing I might call magic. Magic doesn't really exist in the world I come from, unless you want to call the Force that, which I guess it could be. Science can't really explain the Force any more than it can explain hyperspace."

She moves to another nearby panel, sparks spitting from the durasteel and welding lance. Some people might recoil from that kind of noise and activity, but Juno seems pretty comfortable with the unexpected sparks flying and the noise of the lance. "I've tried to have people explain the Force to me. Spiritual mumbo-jumbo, for the most part. Nothing concrete. I guess when I try to explain hyperspace to someone who's not a pilot or engineer, though, it must sound like the same thing coming from me."

"I like 'unspace.' I think I'll keep that," she concludes; although her grin is invisible behind the tinted visor, it shows through in her voice. "It's a good way to put it."

"I don't think I'd buy anything from a place called Discount Dan's in the first place," Juno points out. "Sounds like a quick road to food poisoning. That's if whatever an entity like that sells is even food. Somehow I doubt that."

She cocks her head slightly at Albert's explanation, flicking off the lance. "Maybe. I'll be honest; that stuff is deeply unsettling to me. Hyperdrives don't seem to be looking back at you when you look at it." To her credit she doesn't shudder, but she wants to. "And I know how a hyperdrive functions. I can strip it apart, put it back together again, and run enough diagonistics to make it run better than it did before."

Mostly she's just happy it doesn't stare back at her. It'd be like... like... like working on a droid with it all taken apart while it stares at you, watching you lobotomise it or something creepy like that.

"Well, yes, ideally. You don't fight unless it's a battle you can win. I've piloted starfighters, before, and no matter who manufactures them, the starfighters in my world aren't exactly fielding heavy armour. You get hit, you're finished; so it's pretty simple. You don't get hit." Flicking off the torch, she reaches up to adjust her welder's helmet, giving it a good knock with an open palm to settle it. "You've got good, quality equipment, by the way. Thanks for that."

She shrugs, though, in response to Albert's noncommittal commentary regarding the state of the Empire. "That's alright." She offers a faint smile, which seems to be an attempt at reassurance. "It won't bother me. You're not part of the Empire, so it's not like I have any right to hold your opinion either way against you, right?"

"Anyway, the point I guess I'm trying to make is that nobody's perfect. Individuals, organisations, other entities..." A sweep of her hand brings the visor back down as she sets back to the engines, swapping out the lance for far more delicate tools. "This shouldn't take too long. I've just got a couple of manual overrides to do, and once you've got that software settled, this ship ought to be purring like a Corellian sand panther."

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
"'The Force', huh? Sounds a bit like our Psi technology." George says. Juno should be able to catch a glimpse of him swinging by and grinning at her through the hole she's welding in. "You oughta ask Seft about all the magical spells she does someday. I mean, she won't actually tell you, but you'll get a great show of watching her get all flustered. Heh!" And then he's back to work.

"I comprehend what I can comprehend, and leave thinking about things like that to the people who ought to. I don't let it stick in my mind if there's no purpose for it. Think about what you can, disregard what you can't." Albert says. "You don't need to understand something fully to use it. You understand it enough to do what you need to, and that's all that you need." He seems to approve of that arrangement, but the assessment is very passive.

"Unspace! Yeah, there's a lot uf unspaces. There's warps and voids and hyperspaces and slipspaces and god, just a bunch of nonsense all layered on top of itself. I'll stick to outer space. Keep the word, it's free!" George says, grinning as he slices another section of hull and moves it around. "As for ol' Dan, don't worry. It's not food poisoning you worry about. Mostly mercury poisoning, chlorine poisoning, sulfur, nicotine addictions..." He barks out a little laugh there. "I feel sorrier for the unspaces having to deal with that."

"Don't worry about Erchius. Don't make eye contact if you see an eye in it, sure, but don't worry about it. Been making this galaxy go for years, it's great stuff!" George says, starting to wrap up his work in a jaunty, upbeat sort of way. "I like it. I like a fuel that wants to kill me as much as I'm gonna kill it, you know? More satisfying."

"Mmm." Albert grunts, finishing up compiling a second round of firmware. "Defenses never keep up with offense. True of many worlds. Always easier to kill than it is to stop yourself from dying. Best defense." There's another grunt there, this one being an agreeing, affirming one. "We manufacture our equipment in-house. Any equipment you need, we can provide. An exchange." A brief pause, both in Albert's typing and in his speaking. "You suffered wounds during the attack on the Ring of Thorns. If you need more equipment, speak to us."

"Ahaha, oh, hey, right! Seft's all about the armor too. Ask her for that before she gets moody about magical spells, you know. She makes great stuff." George says, putting on the finishing touches. "Nobody's perfect, huh? Well, as a living exception, I gotta disagree," He's more obviously joking there. "But yeah. I don't expect perfection outta anyone, or outta me. I try not to pick bullshit arbitrary nonsense as my way of categorizing a complicated world, y'know?"

"Do sand panthers from Corellia do a lot of purring that sounds like a sweet spaceship?" George says, wryly. "Sure hope they do, y'know." As always, jumping right back to jokes. He's joking a lot more than usual. Even with people he can vaguely trust around, the facility has him on edge.

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
Something moves at the corner of the visor's rectangular range; Juno glances up briefly to catch sight of a shape swinging by. That would be George hanging on his fancy grappling hook. Briefly, she has to wonder which one of these guys is the human, and which one's the monkey.

Of course, one can hardly blame him. Swinging from ropes is pretty fun.

"That's right. Most of the time the Jedi Knights are the ones who wield it, but it's also used by Sith Lords and Sith assassins. From what I understand, it responds to emotion. The difference between the Sith and the Jedi are the way they use it. The Sith focus on negative emotions to control it, and the Jedi focus on the... well, I'm not sure I'd use the word 'positive' so much as 'neutral.' But, I'm not entirely certain. I've never really had a chance to ask either side about it."

She tinkers in the engine's innards for the moment, flipping up the visor to lean in close and work over a bank of delicate-looking circuitry. The delicate tools are swapped for a set of even more delicate tools; one certainly has to commend the steadiness of her hands. She could've been a surgeon. "Not that you'll get much answer, anyway. Spiritual mysticism nonsense. I've yet to formulate any sort of hypothesis about why and how it works. I've seen it used as telekinesis, electromagnetism... it has enough applications that trying to pigeonhole it into any of the sciences is a headache waiting to happen."

"I've spoken to Seft a few times. She's... polite," Juno settles on, with a grin. "She reminds me of a few droids I've known. An altogether likeable sort. Fairly knowledgeable, too. Though, I'll be honest, it's a little odd to hear about a droid using magic. Or something like a droid. I'm not really certain how these Glitch stack up against the droids of my galaxy. They're a fairly diverse lot."

She leans back a bit, cocking her head and studying the engine array with a critical eye. The fine-tune tools are swapped back out for the lance, and she swipes the visor back down with a practised gesture. "That's a good philosophy to have," she replies, to Albert. "Saves you a lot of grey hairs that way, too. Anyway, nobody's really had any success trying to fully explain hyperspace, so it isn't as though I feel like I'm being one-upped by anybody in not being able to explain it. No one can. I've got an analytical mind, but even I readily admit there are some things we're just not meant to know."

"I think hyperspace is one of those things. And maybe this Erchius stuff of yours is another one, too," she adds, tossing a dubious look to George. He's definitely cheerful, but he's also displays some unsettling outlooks sometimes. "I like my fuel passive and just volatile enough to power a hyperdrive and sublight array."

Swapping tools and taking the visor off, she sets it aside to lean in close again, fiddling with a tiny piece of circuitry and a suite of wires running through it. "Maybe," the pilot asides, to Albert. "I still prefer the 'not getting hit' strategy. It's worked for me so far. Have you ever seen the starfighters of my galaxy? It's like trying to fly a tin can with ion drives strapped to it. They're zippy little blighters, but they have all the endurance of wet tissue paper, and in most cases the weaponry isn't a lot better."

"Some argue that it's the starfighters that win the wars, and not the capital ships. I'm of the opinion that the starfighters wouldn't be there without the capital ships, considering probably over half the starfighters manufactured on a mass scale don't come equipped with hyperdrives." She shrugs, leaning in a little closer and finagling the wires loose with her tools. "Then again, the business of battles in my galaxy are a fairly even split of starfighters and capital ships. The capital ships transport the starfighters, and yet if they work together and do things right, the starfighters can also take down the capital ships, too."

She looks up when Albert makes his offer, brows arched. "Exchange? I can do that. I can certainly get hold of certain equipment that might make your lives easier, too, and it wouldn't be a problem for me to get hold of it. You can get just about anything in Nar Shaddaa, for the right price... of course, that means going to Nar Shaddaa." Her sour expression suggests it's not a very nice place. "Filthy and dangerous. And did I mention filthy? Because it really is filthy. But it isn't called the Smuggler's Moon for nothing. You really can find anything there."

Leaning back, she examines her handiwork, glancing to Albert. "How's the system looking now? A little better, I hope. It's coming along nicely on my end." George earns a look. "I'll do that. I admit, I haven't had much opportunity to speak to Seft." Her brief smile is wry. "Maybe. And maybe the Sith and the Jedi know something I don't, too. I'm not about to rule it out, even if it's aggravating to listen to. I mean, they both agree that the Force is greater than the sum of its parts; greater than any one person. Who am I to argue if so many of them can agree on that, when they can't seem to agree on anything else?" She shrugs one shoulder. "At least, that's the way it looks to me."

After a brief change-up of tools, Juno reaches up to flip her visor down, taking up the lance to start welding panels closed again. "They do. They also growl like an earthquake, or so I hear. I haven't spent much time on Corellia, myself. Actually, slice hounds are from Corellia, too, although they're also called Corellian razor hounds. I like slice hound better." She grins. "The act of breaking into a computer system is called slicing, and slicing, as you've seen, is one of my specialties. It's something of a double entendre that I just couldn't resist."

"I hear there's actually quite a high demand for domesticated slice hounds. They make excellent guard animals. Very smart, very vicious. Enduring as the day is long, too," she adds, over the spitting sparks of the lance.

Starbound Flotilla has posed:
"Huh. That Force stuff sounds pretty magical, yeah. Probably just something that doesn't quite fit the laws of your Universe. I mean, you know, you already got hyperspace not obeying proper laws, makes sense that the Force is like that too. Who knows." George says, putting on the finishing touches on his own work with some paint-spraying tool. "If I were you? I guess I'd just call 'em human hyperdrives, whatever the hell these Jedi Knights or Sith are. They make stuff around them behave against the laws of physics, right? Figure that's like a hyperdrive, or like the unspace, you know, practically speaking."

George seems to get a bit sentimental in a friendly way. "Yeah, Seft's really polite about stuff. Strictly speaking, probably the only really actually good person in the Core Fleet, if you ask me. Apeface over there doesn't pretend he's good, and my jokes are damningtly awful, so most of us don't qualify. Don't worry, though. 'Droid' is a good way of thinking about it, from what I can tell. Close enough, I guess?"

"Success is unnecessary. It's explained enough that you can use it. That's as much as it needs." Albert says, working out the last of his own compiling. "If further understanding won't let you use it more, then it's irrelevant. Knowledge is power, and power is the ability to turn a problem into a solution, nothing more. You have what you need, you might as well focus on just that." A very spartan way of thinking! An absolute minimum of extraneous thoughts.

George laughs at the comment about about fuel preferences. "To each their own! We keep some backup fuel, some Solarium you know. Use what you want, keep what you'll need, right? Always make sure you've got options. Not like we're not sitting on a huge stockpile of the stuff right now, ehhhh?" George does not actually particularly want Juno to get into the Erchius fuel thing, of course, and there's no real pressure. He's just prodding the issue because it's fun and seems like a way to tease the unflappable Blackout in a friendly way.

"No army ever won a war when it sent only one class of soldier to the field." Albert says. "The power to win a battle is to take every opportunity you can to strike at the foe, however you can." He seems to have wrapped up his firmware changes, and will let Juno finish up the finer electronic rewiring. "If large ships are what's necessary, you field them. If small ships are what's necessary, you field them. If boarding parties are what's necessary, you field them. That is how every battlefield works. Pragmatism above pride. Nobody wins the wars. Everybody wins the wars."

"Money. Assistance. Materials. Equipment. Whatever exchange you can do, whatever exchange meets our needs. Speak to Seft to work out details. We've reached the end of the development we can do independently. We need more options for increasing our field performance. Flotilla-type Durasteel semi-powered equipment is working, but it can be better." It looks like they're at the end of their tech tree, in need of some new post-development tech trees to advance with, if that's what Juno can do here. "Filthy and dangerous. We can handle ourselves. We know hostile planets. Give them the respect and caution they demand, and carry a weapon big enough to deter their greed. That's the way you handle it."

Another test-run of the firmware from Albert. "Systems reporting positively. Redirected power is functioning within the increased capacity. Regulating code is reacting properly. The system performance is improved." He grunts. "Thank you, Blackout." Those statements are rare from the rough-spoken monkeyman are rare, and so their authenticity is assured. "A spare Starling good for functioning as a runner gives us another option. We'll keep it in reserve." A finalizing sort of grunt, affirming himself and seeming satisfied with this.

"'Slicing'. Stylish word for it. Punchy, but stylish. We call it hacking around my universe. Makes it sound pretty barbaric. I mean, what I do's kinda barbaric, and it's hacking, so I guess that works fine. But, you know." George says, with his usual good humor. "Plus, hell, who doesn't love a good double entendre in a ship name? I almost named my ship The–"
Albert interrupts him. "Double entedres don't have to be focused on that." He focuses on Blackout now, but looks up at the ship itself first. George's work with the robotic arms has made it more sleek, turning it from something like a space-winnebago into something more like a jet. It's pretty slick. "I believe our work here is mostly done. A few finishing touches for the SAIL unit's auto-repair systems to complete. Would you like to stay for rest purposes, or return to your own travel?" He seems very official and uptight about it, as always, treating relaxation as if it were a resource like any other.

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"It's an underlying foundation of my galaxy, whatever it is. Magical or mundane, there's no denying its importance." Juno rolls one shoulder in a shrug. Once the access panels are welded back into place, she leans back on her haunches, pulling off the welding helmet and setting it aside. Pulling off the gloves, she tosses them aside, too, raking fingers through her helmet-mussed hair. "I'm about as Force-sensitive as a rivet, but even I've got to acknowledge that."

In the interest of taking a short break, she climbs to her feet and stretches, arching her arms high over her head and lacing her fingers with head bowed until her forearms and shoulders pop. Letting her arms swing down, she tilts her head to each side with a pop of her neck to follow suit, sighing in contentment. That's better.

Folding her arms, she leans back against the cool plating of the engine housing, looking up to where George dangles from his grappling hook, applying a few last details with the paint. "Mmhmm. That's more or less what they are. I don't really know how they do it; I just know that they do it."

Ticking off on her fingers, she continues. "I've seen a man lift and hurl several times his own weight through the air without ever laying a hand on the thing that was hurled. I've seen a man shoot lightning from his fingers. And I've seen a man do feats of acrobatics that no mortal man or woman ought to be capable of doing." Her mouth twists in a faint half-smile. "They don't bend physics so much as twist them into a mobius strip."

"I haven't got a problem with politeness. A little civility can go a long way," Juno observes, head tilting up to watch George work. "It's not really the definition of what I'd consider good, either... but if you all think you're so terrible, I suppose I fit in reasonably well enough." She smiles, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. There's just no heart in it. "Everybody's got skeletons in the closet, and if they tell you they don't, they're probably lying."

She shrugs one shoulder. "Anyway, I don't mind droids, even though my track record for the ones I've worked with hasn't exactly been stellar. They're refreshingly straightforward, in some ways. It must be nice to look at the world so simply. They tend to think of things in terms of their primary, secondary, or tertiary programming, depending on what sort of role they were constructed for, and then go from there."

Astrogation droids are refreshingly simple, and think of things in terms of getting from Point A to Point B. Protocol droids tend to think in terms of diplomacy. And PROXY... well... PROXY thinks of things in terms of killing Galen! See? Simple.

Just ignore the part where he might someday slip his programming and try to kill her, too. She tries not to think on that too much. Or the fact that she had seven predecessors aboard the Rogue Shadow. That is not coincidental at all. No sir.

The pilot's blue, blue eyes drift over to Albert, watching him sift through the last of his compilations. "Something like that, but sometimes it's also necessary to ask questions, too." One hand is raised to gesture somewhat nebulously. "The trick is knowing where that boundary line is. Asking too many questions can backfire, too, and get you into more trouble than you can get out of."

Sighing, she leans back against the ship, letting her head hang forward and stretching her neck. "Solarium, hm? Never heard of it. I've modified the Slice Hound's fuel systems, but I'll see if I can't reverse-engineer some of that functionality back. I should be able to do that, and store that Solarium." She cracks an eye open, glancing briefly at George. "Thanks, George. I appreciate it."

"Ah, right. I brought something for all of you." Turning, she stoops to retrieve the cases she'd left on the ground, picking them up and lugging them over to Albert. "Here. These are for you; one for each of you. Hydrospanners and the two smallest size welding lances. They're common tools, but I figured they might come in handy for detail work. I'm not sure how much finesse your Matter Manipulators have. I've never seen a tool like those before."

Leaving those there, she returns to leaning against the ship's engine exhaust and hanging her head. "Mmmm. Thanks, but no. You can keep your eldritch horror-fuel, and I'll stick to the thing that's not going to ooze out of the hopper and eat me in my sleep. If I'm going to worry about dying, I'm going to worry about it coming from far more sensible vectors than eldritch fuel horrors."

Straightening, she turns to finish up her detail work on the engine interiors, before slowly reassembling the plating over the engine housings. "That ought to do it."

Albert earns a long look from the corner of her eye. She doesn't comment on his speech about war, but neither does she seem to disapprove; rather, she seems more thoughtful than anything else, almost melancholy, as though reminded of something else in turn. She shakes her head, though, dismissing whatever it is with the motion.

"I'll be sure to talk to Seft, then. I'll see what I can do in terms of raw materials, too. I can get a few samples of some of our industrial materials, and see if the durability is anything like what you're looking for. I haven't had the opportunity to do extensive stress testing on the Slice Hound's hull, yet, so I'm not sure how it stacks up to my galaxy's version of treated durasteel." She frowns, reaching up and rubbing at one side of her jaw in thought. "Actually, I should do that," she mutters to herself. "If I have to make spot repairs to the hull, I'm going to need to know that..."

"Heh. Something like that. I think a criminal record is a citizenship requirement on Nar Shaddaa, or something, but they all think the same. They're like packs of wild dogs. They listen to whoever has the hardest bite." She shrugs, finishing up her work and setting her tools aside, going back to her casual lean against the engine block, hanging her head wearily to stretch her neck. Facing forward, it's clear that she has shadows under her eyes that are more than just the angle of light and shadow in the hangar. "I can't say I'm fond of places like that, but that's the way the Hutts like things. Money is their language, and greed is what keeps them alive." She snorts, closing her eyes. "I think it might be a biological requirement for them, like breathing air is to most sentients, personally. They're a little disgusting."

Understatement of the century.

"Is it? Good." She looks up only briefly when Albert announces the all-clear, before closing her eyes and hanging her head again. Her mouth quirks in a half-smile. "That went better than I expected. Thanks."

"Most places seem to call it hacking. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure why it's called slicing in my galaxy, but that's what it is. I'm used to calling it that. 'Hacking' just sounds strange to my ears." She shrugs, opening her eyes just enough to look up at Albert and George as Albert interupts George from whatever that double entendre ship name was going to be.

She smirks a little. It doesn't take a genius to figure out it was probably something dirty as hell.

"...Men," she murmurs, straightening and turning to survey the ship, too. "Still, you do good work when you put your mind to it. It's looking better already." Folding her arms, she looks up to take in the entire ship, admiring its sleek likes. It's not unlike the Rogue Shadow that way. "What do you think you'll call it?..."

Oh. Stay? Juno shifts her weight, and the gesture seems strangely uncomfortable. She smiles at the offer. It's rather wan, although she does seem genuinely touched by their offer. The expression fades as she starts to say something else. "I..."

She seems almost on the verge of something important, but after a moment she shakes her head, apparently deciding not to speak after all. "Thanks, but it's probably not a good idea... I appreciate it, though."

"If that's all there is, then I think I'd best be moving on. I don't want to get in your way, and I suppose I've got things to do that won't be getting done by themselves." Dusting her hands, she collects her tools, offering a friendly wave as she saunters back to the Slice Hound. "Thanks. I'll be seeing you aruond, I'm sure. Comm me if you've got any job offers, and I'll comm you if I've got anything in mind for the Flotilla."

With that, provided they don't stop her, she'll be off, back into the great unknown of hyperspace, and... wherever it is that the enigmatic pilot really comes from. She's pretty dodgy.