Profit Margin's active sensor arrays come on-line, at full power, reaching with electromagnetic fingers to feel out anything within range.  Time seems to crawl, as the systems sweep space out to their maximum range...

Then something appears.  Far smaller than even the most miserable moon of this gas giant, ship-sized, and five light seconds out.

Doppler analysis show that it's closing, fast.

Conrad starts running the numbers,  Calculating just how long they've got.

"'tain't natural anyways.  It's decelleratin', makin' two gees.  Let's see now.  Range is 'bout one point five million, an' it'll get here in," Conrad pauses, and watches as the data flows across his display, "one hour and forty minutes.  Near as I c'n tell, it's in the four hunerd d-ton range, so 'bout twice our size."

Tylen picks up the blip.

He switches on the targeting comp and begins to plot a firing solution. He flicks the com, opening a channel to Jago.

"Bossman, I have a bead on the bogie. Want me to get an active lock so they know we're watching?"

His fingers dance across the keyboard, preparing the Laser.

“No, stand by Tylen, and you Yaz, let’s not show our hand to early.”

“Conrad, how much of that one hour, forty minuets before they come within firing range?”

Jago triggers the tight beam, “Jockram, we have a ship incoming, about 400 tons and probably military, ETA 19.35 hours.”

“Probably military because its sensors have out classed our Navy one,” Jago remakes to Conrad as he leavers himself from the pilot seat, “I’m just going to have a quiet word with Yaz, hold the fort for a minuet.”

Jago heads form the turret command points at the back of the cabin, and knocks on one of the doorways, “cooee, anyone home,” he calls jovially.

OOC
I’m assuming that these are locked from inside and don’t have a door bell :O)

Tylen nods to himself, Jago obviously has a plan. He powers the Laser anyway, but refrains from painting the target. Instead he tracks the ship manually, controlling his turret like an old fashioned video game keeping the crosshairs on the moving image. He set's the computer to calculating a solution for the missile, based on the data it recieves from his manual track and links the Laser and the missile fire controls together. If he is required to fire, the Laser will discharge directly at the crosshair and the computer will fire the missile on an intercept course based on the data it has amassed. He selects a track from his library, and the ancient music booms through his soundproof cocoon.....

"Armed and ready.....My sights are set on you!"

Tension crawls upward in the lounge as Shui waits.  There is little else she can do at the moment, save pray.  She isn't given to prayer, so waiting seems to be the proper choice.  After a moment, the doctor gets up, moves to the sink, and begins to mechanically change the coffee, all the while keeping her attention focused on the flickering holoscreen from her dataglove.

"Sure thing, boss.  No need to tip them off.  Make sure our little friend gives us a hug so they won't spot us too soon, eh?" Yas replies with a chortle, sounding utterly relaxed.

Then there is a knock on the door and she coos, "Ooo, please don't come in, I'm not decent yet!"

Pushing the controls she opens the door and grin at the sight of Jago outside.

"Captain, my captain!  By what honour am I to bask in the glory of your presence?" she asks, looking every bit a rascal as she says it teasingly.

"They'll be in range 'bout fifteen minutes 'fore that, so an hour an' twen'y five, or so.  An hour an thirty to be sure of 'em." Conrad calls out, as he checks the displays again.

"They ain't usin' Actives, so I can't tell much 'bout what they've got, but I don't reckon it'll be better'n ours.  The gear we got is purrty much the best there is.  It's poss'ble they only found us 'cause someone tol' them we'd be snoopin' 'bout in these parts."

Because someone told them.  Shui goes over those words in her thoughts.  Sunzi basics - if you want your enemy to come to you, feign weakness or take something he desires.  Perhaps the feigned weakness was the knowledge of where the enemy should be, and the provision of an 'ally'...one who would turn on them the moment the battle is joined.

And thus, a supposed weakness becomes a strength.  She feels ill.  But certainly the rest of the crew has this in mind...Mr. Dietz, no doubt, is thinking the same.

Jockram's voice comes back over the comm, "Yes, we see him on the feed.  I expect you glow pretty bright too, since you went active, so my guess is that he hasn't noticed us tucked in nice and cozy.  Just give the word, and we'll deliver our surprise."

Saskia hurries into the lounge, bare feet padding across the carpet.  Dinner will probably be late, if there's going to be trouble, but she has plenty of time to grab a coffee, and there might be some cookies or something that she can snack on while she keeps an eye on things.

Shui is there, working and looking unhappy.

"Hi, Shui.  I'm just gettting a coffee.  Feeling okay?" and then realization hits her, "Oh - you've never been in a fight with us before, have you?  Worried?"

Jago chuckles, and leans into the cabin for a private word with Yazmin.

Shui turns toward Saskia, and a brilliant smile lights up her features.  "No, I have not, I fear."  She touches the coffeepot, three-quarters finished brewing by this point, then grows more serious.  "Should you wish anything more, Ms. Blake, I would be more than happy to find something for you."  She looks down at her hands for a long moment, then sighs.

"I fear I am more than a little concerned, yes, for the people who might die in this battle.  But there is nothing I can do."  A small, twisted smile tweaks the corners of her mouth.  "Save make coffee, it appears.  Fortunately, this is almost ready."

"How do things progress in engineering?" she attempts.

Yasmine talks quietly for a moment and then she chuckles.

Realising that there will be a longish delay, Tylen spends his time constantly refining and reviewing the firing solution presented by the targetting computer. Tracking the unknown ship in this way he hopes to reduce the possibility of a miss to almost zero.

In her quarters, Dhakhingzuel uses a handcomp to make her own calculations, based on the relays from the Bridge, translating the data into measurements which she is more familiar with.

"Hah!" she crows, as the figures trace across the display of the handcomp, and she stabs a claw-tipped finger at the blip on the relay monitor. "Gvaghak nyar, kchu'vot traesh Oezzarr vugh!  Dzur harg Oezzarr vugh! HAKUGHT!"  She is standing now, leaning forward, hands spread on the tabletop, and snout only centimetres from the screen.  Her ears are laid flat, and her words are slurred as her lips are pulled back to bare her teeth.

"Everything is running smoothly back there.  You don't need to worry about that.  I'd know if there was some sort of problem." Saskia replies, as she waits for coffee.

"Shouldn't really be worrying too much about a fight, either.  The techs did a good job, when they upgraded Profit Margin, Shui.  She's got weapons that are purely military issue, upgraded sensors, and a better computer.  Anybody tangling with her is going to get one big frelling shock."

The engineer gives a nervous, embarrassed smile "I mean, I know she doesn't look like anything special, but she is - inside, where it counts.  She was a fighter, even before the refit."

Jago is smiling as he returns to his seat and quickly runs through the displays on his panel.

“The other ship won’t be in range for a while so take it easy for an hour or so,” Jago announces over the intercom and the tight beam.”

“Any thoughts on tactics here Conrad? I’m thinking of just cruising along this course and letting them come to us, but perhaps we could make use of that moon, or the planet, especially if they turn out not to be streamlined.”

Shui waits until the pot is finished, then carefully pours a cup for Saskia, adding in that appropriate extras.  Her smile, as she hands the cup to the other woman, is definitely weak.

"I'm truly gratified to hear everything is moving along well," she notes quietly.  And truthfully.  "I am concerned about any combat for a number of reasons, though.  Needless to say, the first of which is that I have no wish to become part of space debris, or worse, salvage for the pirates."  She purses her lips - unpleasant thought.  "However, you know your ship, and your ship's abilities - if you say it is a match for the other ship, and possibly our escort, should they prove false, I believe you."  A relief, that.  She briefly feels sick at her hypocriscy, recalling that for her to live through space combat means others must die.

"But...regardless of who wins, I fear the death toll," she finishes quietly, absently checking the coffee pot.  No, it's full.  When did that happen?  Is it new?  A click, in her mind, and she remembers changing it just minutes ago.

Very distracted, Shui notes, focusing more on the here and now.

"It must be nice, to know so much about your ship that your faith is unshakable," she says, interested in both that subject of conversation, and getting afield of the current subject.

Before the door closes Yas shouts, "Hey, I'm not that kind of girl!"

She chuckles as the door closes and resumes her duty of monitoring the instruments and the situation as a whole.

An hour to kill, the boss says.  She relaxes and allows her years of training and experience to take over, permitting her to spend an insane amount of time waiting while staying sharp and alert without being tense.

She starts to sing on that ancient song again...

Saskia's nervousness evaporates.  The one thing that she does feel confident talking about is the ship.  The fact that Shui seems to want to discuss it too is good.

"She's a good ship.  She looks after her family.  You can depend on her."

Then she looks about, as if to make sure nobody is listening, casually places one hand over the voice pickup of the nearest intercomm, and says quietly, with complete seriousness, "Yes, I have faith in Profit Margin, because she knows that I won't talk to her for a frelling month if she lets me down."

"A good reason," Shui replies, quietly.  It doesn't matter if Saskia actually believes the ship can listen to her, or if it's just a matter of superstition.  Whatever keeps her confident in her work, whatever makes her work all the harder to keep this vessel together...there's nothing wrong with that.

And who's to say it doesn't actually DO so?

"Under the circumstances," she replies, sotto vocce, "I believe it's in all of our best interests that the ship continues to function well.  Including the Profit Margin's own...have there been any serious problems of late?  No issues with keeping it fully functional?"  She shifts, left to right, the tension of the waiting finally starting to eat at her equinamity.

Tylen can feel the adrenalin building as the other ship draws closer. His music library is set to random and a suprising mixture of classical and pop tunes from a millenia of Human civilisation wash over him. He seems unmoved by the music but, on closer inspection, is using the rythmn to co-ordinate his movements. His screen is split, a scrolling column of figures displayed next to a real-time video picture of the approaching vessel. The cross hairs on the video screen rest over the enginge cowlings of the unidentified ship. The music system produces the discordant opening bars of Jovanssen's "Silver Planet Trilogy" and Tylen's fingers rattle across the keyboard in time to the ominous rumble of the timpani.

"Got three choices, way I see it, Jago." Conrad raises a clenched fist, then extends the index finger.

"One: We can make a run for it.  They'll have the edge on us first off, since they got a higher speed for now, but if we head off at an angle they'll find it harder to close in.  Leastways until they slow down.  Then of course they'll have to catch up, with us acceleratin' all the way."

The second finger extends.  "Two: Stay here, an' keep our velocity low.  Might be able to stay close to the moon that way, and use it for cover.  I reckon they'll still have a fair bit of speed to burn off when they get here.  Most likely planning on a quick pass, an' a straffing run."

"Plus if'n they keep some speed, it helps them if'n we run for it.  But it means they can't swing so tight 'round the moon."

Another finger.  "Three: The planet.  We can try a slingshot, but once we get on that track, we'll be purtty much stuck with it.  Or drop into the clouds, an' take cover.  As I said, they'll have a heap of speed to drop, 'fore they can chase us, but it'll be close."

He shrugs and looks at Jago for a moment, then grins, and the pinkie extends.  "Four: Charge 'em.  They won't be 'xpectin' that.  I know I wouldn't be 'xpectin' it."

"Problems? Saskia's voice is filled with righteous indignation, "With my ship?  I've got some really strong soap in my quarters.  You should use it to wash your mouth out, after talking dirty like that."

She takes a mouthful of coffee, to try and hide her smile, but fails miserably.

"No, the only trouble we've had lately, with anything, was those bugs that got into the air filters.  Everything else has been fine."