Grand Theft Starship (Fringe only)

"Ascending Dawn." Mabon's mind ran through the descriptions he had seen on the information brackets. His mind worked well with this, it made sense. Categorized, aligned, organized perfectly.

"She's a beautiful bird, fast, great pilot. Not much else is known about her other than an automated defense system. No one knows what kind of crew she has but right now..." He walked over to the terminal and pulled up her current information. "One soul on board, low life signs. May be a trap for idiots like us. Or the moron is overconfident. I'm betting on the former, that's what I would do." Mabon stepped back and cupped his chin, thinking of the possibilities.

"We have two options, bantha-shitting our way in, or a direct assault." He walked out of the bridge and toward the exit of the ship. "Droids, keep this place secure and only accessible for me. Once I leave, lock her down. Be ready to take off and pick me up if need be." Mabon was already kitted, he assumed that Bran would follow him, they had plenty of time to prep.

"We're going to need your tech skills. Are you good at slicing under pressure?" Mabon spoke as he walked down the ramp, his weaponry laid upon his person in natural and efficient places for him to easily access them. His HUD was garbage, something standard and antiquated, no real information. He would have to fix that soon. Get something new.

Stacking themselves up for breaching; Bran in his disguise and Mabon kitted for a fight, Bran would find the door profoundly difficult to slice. They may very well share moments of humorous indignation with quotes like, 'This doesn't usually happen,' and suggestions of simply blowing the damn bulkhead down. However, the door would eventually come open and they would be greeted by the low light of emergency power engaged and silence.

The typical whirring of machinery, the gust of fans pushing air throughout the ventilators and the occasional beep of an electronic interface are all that greet the dynamic duo.

The hull of the vessel appeared in good condition and so too do the walls, floor and ceiling. Not a drop of blood, not a single scorch mark nor anything in visible disrepair would be present in the hallway before them. To their left would be a dimly lit room with a pair of workbenches. Beyond it would be the common area with a map of the galaxy at the center of the ship. To their right is a route to the engines and the turret emplacements.

Mabon brought his rifle to the ready, both eyes open, his HUD reading measurements of distances and lifesigns. His knees were slightly bent as he pointed his rifle where his eyes went. He scanned nearly every inch before he went in. Absorbing the standard layout of the ship he noted that there was not a spec of commotion or action within the ship. Everything seemed to be spotless, fresh though stagnant, with the service lights on as if in welcome.

"This is most definitely a trap. Can you access the terminal at the map and see if there are logs or lifesigns? If there are any answers before we go in deeper?" Mabon spoke in a low volume to Bran as he held his weapon at the ready, slowly turning to cover all angles, never staying still. His senses and instincts were on full alert.

The silence on the ship is disturbed by their chatter and the casting of a stone. Outside of this, there are no new sounds or reactions to their presence.

Mabon's HUD will continue to work as normal, identifying the lowly-lit distances between himself and where his central vision falls upon.

As the duo continue into the ship, arriving at the terminal displaying a map of the galaxy, it strangely reflects several small auras spanning the breadth of the map, notes about each one written in encrypted text.

Here in the central room, there is a hallway leading straight over to the cockpit and that lone life signature they observed upon arrival.

The hair on Mabon's neck was standing on end. He was in the middle of the perfect situation for an ambush and yet nothing was happening. "Just pull the trigger, so I can kill you, you sick bastards." He thought to himself. Each step further into the sizable freighter was enough to convince him that this crew was disciplined and skilled. He definitely wanted them on his side. Anyone confident enough to open their ship to people knowing that they would win, was exactly who he wanted. After he beat the cockiness out of them, they would serve The Family well.

"Do your magic Bran, I've got you." Mabon's head turned about, registering the information from his HUD while trusting his eyes more, again making a mental note that he needed to get himself a better set of armor with a better HUD. Maybe he would have Bran find him a location he could do this, after this was done. The front of the rifle went to each opening to the center of the ship in what seemed to be a random fashion. He wanted to portray panic and fear instead of systematically checking each opening, marking off on his mental list what needed to be checked. Soon someone would come or the trap would be triggered and he'd be able to work his magic, as Bran is doing with his own now.

While slicing may be Bran's magic, the system he is working is far from rudimentary. It will take several painstakingly silent minutes before he even gets his foot through the back door. Once he is fully immersed in the system, the objective of decrypting the notes on the map will take even more time.

Strangely, as he works through the algorithms of the encryption software the results would come up negative as he reaches a conclusion, only to then see that the key changes. Working quicker still to beat what must be a timer, the key will continue to change a heartbeat faster than when he would have otherwise completed it.

The only explanation that would make sense is that there is another user counter-slicing and manually triggering the key flips.

It's then that the silence is broken by a raspy cough from the cockpit.