“Fuck...did somebody die in this suit?” Maggie questioned Mairead, wrinkling her nose at the stench emanating from the stained fabric.

The engineer rolled her eyes. “Just put it on,” she snapped, peeling off her clothing before stepping into her own vac suit. Muttering under her breath, the older woman mimicked her efforts, getting the lower half of her protective gear in place before leaning forward and stretching out her arms, slipping them into the suit’s sleeves before standing back up. It was a complex series of movements, but both women had done EVA’s in the past and fell into the rhythms with ease. Once the upper half was seated on their shoulders, they sealed up the torso section, double-checking each other’s work.

That done, they slid their feet into the heavy boots, locking them into place. Once inside the airlock they’d activate the powerful electromagnets, designed to keep them attached to the hull as they made repairs. It made maneuvering a lumbering, clumsy affair...deactivate the magnet in your left boot, move it forward before reactivating it, then perform the same steps on the right. Back and forth, again and again. With practice one could move faster, but that came with its own set of risks. Losing contact with the ship and going Dutchman was a genuine possibility, sailing off into the black with no way to return.

The tool harnesses came next. Worn like a vest over the suit itself, they had room for a couple dozen pieces of equipment, each with its own separate lanyard to prevent them from drifting away. Their rigs complemented each other, giving them a wide assortment to choose from depending on the task at hand.

And then finally, the helmets. Set into a locking ring and then twisted into place, the design was like some of the earliest examples used in Man’s exploration of space. It was simple and robust, and no one had come up with a design since that provided any significant improvements. Once they were sealed in they ran through the checklist as they inspected each other one last time, before slamming their fists on the other’s collarbone, the ancient gesture they were ready.

They would also carry two large containers of parts for the upgrades. They’d needed help from the others prepositioning them inside the airlock, though once outside the lack of gravity would let them pull the crates along with minimal effort. There was still the mass to contend with, but if they were careful and took it slow, it wouldn’t be an issue. The pair shuffled into the airlock as Maggie activated the suit radio. “All right, we’re headin’ out now,” she informed the captain. “We’ll keep the channel open, just in case.”

“Copy that,” Remi replied. “Keep me in the loop.”

“Will do,” she acknowledged, before switching to the private frequency. “You ready?” she asked the engineer.

“Let’s do this,” Mairead answered as the airlock cycled, the atmosphere pumped away until they were left in near vacuum. With a tap of the controls the boots locked into place, immobilizing them as the outer hatch slid open.

With practiced ease Maggie snapped her safety tether onto a guide outside the hatch and stepped out on the hull, keeping her focus on the ship itself. Performing an EVA while under FTL drive wasn’t dangerous by itself, but the energy field surrounding the craft would disorient the unwary. The swirling patterns could hypnotize those not focused on more mundane tasks...in fact there were many documented cases where individuals would stare at the surrounding bubble in wonder until their O2 tanks ran dry, never realizing they were suffocating until it was too late.

Mairead followed close behind as the pair moved forward towards the bow. It was slow going, the slow heavy trudge of the boots combined with switching belays from one safety run to the next. It was almost twenty minutes later that they arrived at the sensor array access panel, with each of them breaking out the Stirrups that allowed them to kneel on the hull without using the boots. They operated on a similar principle, but the handheld devices let them anchor in place, close enough to get the job done.

“...we’re in position,” Maggie reported, as the engineer unbolted the hatch.

“Understood,” Remi answered. “Any problems?”

“Too early to tell,” she informed him, as the panel swung open. “Need some time to dig into it. Taking the EM Band sensors offline...now.” With that she cut power to the system, allowing the pair to get started. They’d done their homework prior to the EVA, sketching out the best way to attack the problem. Once they’d decided on a plan, it was a matter of putting it into effect.

Boosting the signal was simple in theory, but to make it work they had to attack the problem from multiple angles. The first method was to increase power to the system….more power, more signal. Only the components weren’t rated for that much of an increase, meaning they would have to swap them out for something more robust. Which weren’t designed to be used in that system in the first place, requiring a custom-built interface before they could make it work. They didn’t have enough stores on hand or time available to switch out everything, forcing them to focus on the key subsystems and bypassing the rest from the amplified power supply.

Next were the receivers. By installing supplemental antennas, they could increase the gain, giving them a clearer picture. At least this one was easy enough, though running hardened lines across the hull proved daunting, plus it was using up their available supply of cable. They had to make cuts there as well.

Then they had to decrease the Signal-to-Noise ratio. Improved shielding was used to better protect the system from changes in the environment, plus adding a lock-in amplifier to act as a filter. The final touch was integrating a handful of their precious superconductors, chilled within a few degrees of Absolute Zero.

The EVA had taken over sixteen hours, across three shifts and four air tank swaps. By time they finished they were exhausted, drenched in sweat, barely able to strip off the very suits that had kept them alive. Captain Haddad had rounded up personnel to help with that, including Blye and Prash. There was a look of pure bliss on Maggie’s face as she sucked in the first lungful of air that didn’t smell like rancid body odor and oxidized chemicals once they pried off her helmet.

“Thanks,” she mumbled, collapsing onto the bench. The two Chevaliers shared a concerned look as they started checking the Tinkers’ vitals.

“I don’t like your color,” the Troisième clucked in disapproval, handing over a bottle. Maggie sucked it down, barely noticing the tang of added minerals and electrolytes.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured them, even as she panted in the humid air. “Nothin’ some rest and a shower won’t fix.”

“I shouldn’t have to remind you you’re not a kid anymore, Maggie,” Blye admonished her, as she worked to free her from the suit while Prash did the same for Mairead. “You can’t keep pushing yourself like this.”

“Needed to be done, and no one else knows how,” she shrugged. “What else was I supposed to do?”

The young Knight didn’t answer, and as she finished freeing her from the suit, she looked around the compartment. “Half expected to see Rúna here, standing guard,” she snorted.

Blye froze for a moment, then looked elsewhere as she handed Maggie her clothes. “She’s watching Diggs,” she explained.

The tone in her voice spoke volumes. “Guess you heard then,” she said quietly.

“That he slept with our redheaded Valkyrie friend instead of you?” the Knight said. “That you bit Prash’s head off?” The Sixième looked up at the sound of his name. “Or that the boy still refuses to even look in your direction?”

Maggie hung her head in shame. “Yeah...all of that,’ she sighed.

“I told you at the very beginning what would happen if you left,” Blye chided her, holding up her hand as the Tinker protested. “And yes, I’m well aware of your reasons. They’re not even bad reasons, near as I can tell.” She shook her head, before gazing into her eyes. “The two of you spent weeks together. He’d imprinted on you...hell, he saved your life, after you’d already saved his. Ask Rúna what that kind of bond means in her Clan.”

“Don’t have to,” she admitted. “I’ve spent enough time ‘round the Valkyries. I know what it means.” She shrugged wearily, as if they made her entire body of lead. “I fucked up, okay? Even if it was the right thing, it was still wrong. Hell, all my options were wrong.” She finished dressing and stood up. “You’re the medic. Tell me how I fix this.”

Blye glanced over at the others, who were trying to not pay attention, and shook her head. “One day at a time, Maggie. One day at a time.”

She’d stood under the spray of scalding water longer than she should have, trying to wash away the stink and grime and pain. By time she’d toweled off all she wanted was to collapse on her bunk for a lifetime or two, but despite the interminable day the job wasn’t over yet. Pulling on a loose-fitting pullover and slacks she’d gotten from ship stores, Maggie made her way to the Bridge, collapsing onto an available seat. Mairead was already there conferring with the captain, both of them looking up as she entered.

“So what’s the word?” she asked.

“Still waiting on the software,” Remi informed her, before glancing over at Alphad’s image on the monitor, who seemed to be relaxing under a tree, reading an old-fashioned bound book. “Do you think you could put that down and get to work?” he sneered.

The Avatar looked up at him. “You realize what you’re looking at is basically a screen saver, right? It’s not a real-time depiction of what I’m doing,” he chuckled. “I’ve almost finished updating the operating system’s software...until the hardware installation was complete most of what I was doing was theoretical. I needed to see it working under real-world conditions before I could add the last touches.”

“And?” the Corsair prompted.

“And considering just how jury-rigged the setup is, you should be grateful it’s working at all,” Alphad shot back. “That being said, I think Maggie’s estimate may have been conservative. Based on what I’m seeing, we might get a fifteen or twenty percent increase in range and sensitivity.”

“Really?” Mairead said in surprise, before turning to her fellow Tinker. “Guess you know how to turn a wrench,” she smiled.

Exhaustion kept her response to a mere hand wave of thanks. As it was, she could barely keep her eyes open, but she needed to see this through to the end. She nodded off once or twice as they waited, her body jerking itself back awake as gravity tried pulling her down, until the Avatar announced at last, “I think we’re ready to give it a test run.”

Remi turned to his crew. “Do it,” he ordered.

“Aye Cap’n, running scan now,” his pilot replied, her fingers tapping away at the console. It took time to do a complete sweep of the area, as Remi drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair while he waited for the result. The devil-may-care rogue she’d been first introduced to was nowhere to be seen...in fact, that aspect of his personality had all but disappeared since the attack on Freya. It was as if the mission had sanded off the painted exterior, revealing the hardened steel alloy beneath.

Perhaps that was true for all of them.

“I’ve got a hit,” Xuilan announced, the image appearing on the main viewer. It didn’t look like much to Maggie, but then radar imagery wasn’t her area of expertise. “Bearing 174 by Mark 018...range, half a million kilometers.”

“Half a million kilometers,” the captain repeated, marveling at his increased reach, before nodding to both Tinkers. “Well done, ladies. You may have just saved our asses.” Turning his attention back to the pilot, he asked, “Can you narrow down the ship’s size, and who it belongs to?”

“Running it through the database now,” she answered, as the computer compared the information against a library of collected scans. It spit back the answer almost immediately, and Maggie heard Xuilan’s sharp intake as she read the results. She took a moment to brace herself, before looking up at her captain.

“The return matches the profile of a Tu’udh’hizh’ak corvette, Cap’n,” she said softly, before casting a glance to the Avatar for confirmation.

“97.836% probability,” Alphad agreed, his virtual wings folding behind him.

There was a certain grim acceptance to Captain Hadad’s features as he heard the news. “So. Now we know,” he said at last.

Slavko, his gunner, just shook his head. “Wonderful,” he muttered.

“It would always be one of the Troika,” Remi shrugged. “They’ve probably told the smaller fish in the Perseus Arm to back off.”

“Sure,” Maggie agreed, “they want the prize for themselves.”

“What are your orders, Captain?” his pilot asked.

“For now? Nothing,” he told her. “Keep her under observation and inform me the instant anything changes.”

“Aye sir,” Xuilan acknowledged.

“That’ll work short term, I reckon,” Maggie shrugged, “but eventually they’re gonna make a move. What then?”

He turned to face her. “We can’t outrun them, and we can’t fight them. That narrows our options, wouldn’t you say?” he snorted, the sarcasm clear. “What would you suggest?”

She considered the problem for a moment before answering. “We do somethin’ they ain’t expectin’. Hail ‘em and ask for a parley.”

“A parley,” he said, deadpan. “And bargain with what?”

“I dunno….tell ‘em you’ll give them the info if they keep the Eleexx and Aggaaddub off our backs,” she shrugged. “Might buy us some time.”

“There’s nothing preventing them from just taking it,” he pointed out, “and they know that.”

Maggie held out her hands. “What do you want me to say? We can’t disappear, and we can’t beat ‘em in battle, and I’ve played enough poker to know when you’re starin’ at a busted flush...all you got left is gall.” Somehow she managed a weary smile. “If you can’t dazzle ‘em with knowledge...baffle ‘em with bullshit.”

Remi threw back his head and laughed. It was the first glimpse she’d seen of the unrepentant reprobate façade she’d been first introduced to since they’d gotten underway. “I believe you would have made quite the pirate, Maggie,” he chuckled. “You have the instincts for it.”

“Not sure if I should be flattered or insulted,” she grunted.

He chuckled once again. “I’ll consider your proposal, Maggie,” he said at last. “That Dharmist we took on...Genvass. Any chance he speaks Tu’udh’hizh’ak?”

“...only one way to find out,” she told him.