Spotting an ominous-looking grove of trees (they look exactly like any other grove.), Aziza rotates the lower ship's dish scanner and it complains with a mechanical squeak as the huge rotator joint swings around to check thoroughly for enemies hiding between the trees.  Or underground amongst their roots.  Or possibly just passing through the area.  Briefly she considers whether or not it's wise to destroy the trees even if they're not full of armored enemies, doubtless brutes with poor hygiene crawling with parasites just waiting to infest the unwary and share their horrific plagues with others.
Aziza's hands start to drift down to the fire buttons on the consoles and she hurriedly shakes her head and moves back to sensors, and begins to scan the copse.  But she keeps the other hand near the fire control, just in case.


21:26, Today: Aziza rolled 18 using 1d20+13. Computer Use.

Somewhere along the way, Trey had gotten lost in his own little world. He'd joined the ground crew, blending in with a knack for good smokes and a grin for any situation, helping set up defenses. He'd manage to snag his Prospect 23 suit off of Azi's purging bots, before it was 'disinfected' - with fire. And he'd spent quite a bit of time just staying out of people's way, especially Con-Raid, while he jury-rigged an old audio player and a few choice tapes. Something to help with speaking the lingo these bois spoke.

Back on HIS ship, him and De Bredren could understand each other perfect. Here, he had to struggle to know what everyone was saying around him. So, with the same cheerful pragmatism to which he applied everything else, he had begun to learn. Now he's finally meandering out of the room set aside, his suit's thick boots whispering across grass as he wanders.

"Tat dog be for I. Tat dog be called Spot. Run, boi, run!" He murmurs in time to the 'lessons' in his earpiece, getting better at understanding the occasional stream of comms traffic he'd picked up from the rest of the bizaare crew that 'rescued' him. Of course, an experienced ruggad boi like him couldn't help but notice the sudden shifting in power and minor G's that the gravitonic pull couldn't always catch. It's one of the reasons he's moving for the bridge, hitting a comm as he goes.

"Ey, Azi! What be, mon?"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:11, Mon 09 Apr 2012.

"I am being not find anything hostile or dangerous right now." the big cat answers as she examines the readouts.  "That is being particularly worrisome, as it is being indicate that the hostiles and dangerous things are hidden and are likely being sneak up on us."

"Oh. So, yah be eyein' for tem bad boi, but no-body be around for yah?"

States the space junker as he shifts along the corridor towards the bridge, the tools on his belt jingling with their own music in time to the subtle shift in acceleration pull. A single hand hovering near the wall, in the event he'll have to brace; After all, as many of his clone model have learned, a long straight hallway can turn into a long straight fall in a hurry, should system fail during acceleration process.

"Mebee tat mean tere be no-body to find?" He states, flashing white teeth at nothing as he pulls a gloved hand over his dreads. Then considers; Well, if they're scanning for hostiles, it means somebody may already be in trouble. With a thoughtful moue, Trey continues.

"Yah need a hand, ten? I an' I be tee extra eye on tee scannahs?"
This message was last edited by the player at 20:10, Mon 09 Apr 2012.

"That is being acceptable." Aziza answers after a brief pause.  One of her many hands leaves the controls a moment to wave at a side console. "Auxiliary sensors are being routed to that location.  "Red Icons are being known hostiles.  White are being we haven't identified yet, but are probably hostiles.  Blue are being allies, or hostiles in disguise.  The black area is being where possible hostiles are hiding from sensor detection."

Finally making his way to the bridge in time for Aziza to wave towards a console and explain the levels of hostility she's expecting, the bemused space monkey plops himself down and quickly latches buckles to his environment suit. Hey, Azi's got her paranoias, and Trey spent two months living inside his suit. It's the comfort things, y'know?

With a flourish across the screen, Trey wipes the old sensor data off and begins plugging in a new set of scanning coordinates. While he's not a combat pilot, he is a prospector - and if there's one thing a Bredren knows, its how to find things on a scan.

14:53, Today: Secret Roll: Trey Uv'secks rolled 20 using 1d20+12. Computer Use (ship).

Feeding his finds into a sidebar for Azi to review, he takes a moment to rub his chin thoughtfully. "Yah know, tat black zone go to I brain. If yah so worried about tem, why not send tee probe? She doan got no fancy neiter, Azzi, jes' someting tat screens tee place and send back to us tee results, yah know? Tats how I and de Bredren look on tee dark side back on tee Prospectah, mon."
This message was last edited by the player at 00:55, Tue 10 Apr 2012.

Aziza considers Trey's wise advice a moment and pulls in closer to herself, hugging her own body with her upper arms.
"But Probe Bot is being so small and crushable, and there are being so many hostile things that can destroy her outright." she protests weakly.

A small robot with mutliple sensor lenses on its head popped out of it's storage rack and nodded it's head in agreement with Aziza. lenses going wide as it flopped over and fell to the ground with a clank and a pathetic mechanical whine.

"However. . ." Aziza continues, rubbing one cheek thoughtfully, and her eyes dilate as she considers, "If we are being equip probe bot with lightweight ceramic armor, perhaps it is being survive longer.  Please to being calculate weight to thrust ratio, and I am being render appropriate shape for probe armor shell." she suggests, massaging a set of keys and bringing up a holographic display of an exploded view of the probe bot.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:27, Tue 10 Apr 2012.

Trey glances back at the probe, a sudden grin lighting up his face at the antics. Stretching out an arm to help flip it upright, he continues his scan, considering Azzi's request. With a nod, he pulls down a side window, having - covertly - swapped Azi's color scheme scans with his own Face scans. Happy, good. Neutral, maybe. Angry face, bad bois. And confused face for no idea. Just a temporary little change, nothing to get worried about! As he's running the mock-up for telemetry, he's speaking again - this ain't no dumb boi, for all he speaks!

"I an' I agreein' wit' ya. I doan be knowin' yah probes were tinkin' probes, Jah on I soul I doan know tat. But.. do yah have any spares for tem repairs on tem sweepah drones? If yah want, I an' I can look into riggin' a missile shell wit' de sensor suite. A dummy net, yah know, tat feeds back at us for tee eyes in tee skies. If tere be won ting I an' I an' Earnie be good at, it be making do wit' scraps. No worrahs."

He glances over his shoulder at the giant kitten, flashing his white toothed smile again. "Tat might help put yah at ease a bit, yah know? I an' I tinkin' we get moar eyes, ten tere be less places for tem bois to be hidin'."

OOC:
  Armored drone shell craft mechanical DC 20
  refit Missile for disposable remote sensor package Repair check DC 20

"Ship is being stocked with spare parts before being launch on this mission." Aziza notes archly.  She moves the probe schematic to one side and brings up and exploded missile model next to it.  "However recycling missile case is being faster and easier.  Missiles are being have short flight duration so we are being need to expand fuel reserves into area previously used for warhead.  Missile is being also have sensors already but cone of detection is being narrow and needs replacing with probe bot sensors."
Aziza plays with the schematic a moment, pulling out some components and moving others back and forth to compensate.
"Additional issue is being that probe will look like a missile, and may draw counter-measures and anti-missile fire to destroy it.  Are you being think of any way to avoid this problem?"

OOC~ Aziza's repair is is over +20 even without aid so she can't fail at this.

Trey frowns as he takes a bit of schematic for himself, trying to find a way to fit all the sensory components they'll need while maintaining integrity between fuel, weight, and size. He continually redraws on the tiny side image, humming cheerfully to himself in thought - trying to find a way around the snag he's hitting.

21:31, Today: Secret Roll: Trey Uv'secks rolled 18 using 1d20+9. Craft Mechanical .

He glances over, and laughs. "Yah, tat so, but if tey fire on tee missile sensah, ten we know where tey be, and ten tee sensah has done tee job. So, no worrahs." He glances back along the current scans, making certain to keep track of them with the constant multi-tasking. But it's not an unusual situation; On the Prospect, the six bredren would have to share tasks constantly - after all, there were only six of them.

Aziza draws her lips together with dissaproval and examines the missile cum sensor probe again.
"But I am being want sensor bot to survive and being return to me." she protests.  "Perhaps if we are being equip missile bot with flare cannister counter-measures, it is being able to defend itself from missiles better." she suggests, rotating the plan and adding the component.  "But I am being suspect that this will increase weight too much."

In reply to Aziza (msg #16):

"Tats why I an' I be using missile, yah know? Because tee missile nevah returns unless someting has gone wrong wit it." He chuckles again, clearing the screen and accepting the large feline's desire for a moment. Having found a more 'interesting' way to stream line the sensor alignment, he presents the 'exploded' view and swipes it towards Azi's console.

09:01, Today: Trey Uv'secks rolled 23 using 1d20+7. DC Craft Mechanical +9 - 2 for retry.

"Sometimes.." He begins, actually turning in his seat to look at Azi. His usual bright, happy smile somewhat muted with a quiet sadness. ".. Sometimes, yah got ta learn ta let tings go, yah know? Tee universe keeps spinnin' whatevah I an' I be missin'." Swinging back around to his own console, Trey begins humming a happy little ditty as he clears the scan and reconfigures. Best to keep the ship in one piece...
This message was last edited by the player at 14:08, Sat 14 Apr 2012.

"I think design is being ready." Aziza notes after running a brief simulation.  "I am being send program to fabber bot now.  Manufacturing is being commence in a few moments." she pauses a moment.  "Your addition is being. . . useful and your skills are being competent.  Thank you."

By the way Trey is smiling, one would almost think Azi just gave him a million creds or something along that line; He's positively beaming, even as he humbly shrugs his shoulders.

"I an' I an' Earnie bein' grateful foh tat rescue on tee slavin' ship, Azi. Tis helpin' be tee least I can do, yah know? Besides..." He turns back to his own console, bringing up the area scan once more. ".. Tis what I be born foh. Lit-ah-ra-lee. Ha!"
This message was last edited by the player at 01:57, Tue 17 Apr 2012.

 The Fabricators hum to life as the designs are input. one of the ships missiles is ferried ot the workshop and disarmed replacing the warhead with the new additions.
  In minutes the robots began to cut weld and install the armored shell on the probe drone adding additional lifters and a chaff/EM pod to the design to give it a better chance of surviving an unexpected attack.

"I am being program in test flight course." Aziza announces, after admiring the drone a moment.  She heads over to the central station again and squats on her haunches, allowing her to type with all four paws at once as she quickly throws together a big loop around the ship that will test both sensor capability and acceleration.  "Please to being decide on name for new design before launch, for good luck."

It took Trey only a few moments to run through his repetoire of good names, before he beams that bright smile once more. "Well, tis ship, she be tee 'black smart bird who be solid wit' tee tools an' tee shinies'? Ten tem bois be tee bird eyes." He laughs, delighted at his own joke, before he turns back to the scan. Humming 'three little birds' for a moment, before he speaks up.

"Ey, Azi! Tell me sometin' good. Tell me 'bout tat otter cat on tee ship, yah know? I heard only a little bit, but tat be yah hart? Yah one an' only?"

"If you are being refer to Cesti species, I am being only Cesti on ship." Aziza notes cautiously.  "I am being believe there are also being clanless white Cesti the others are being meet on the planet, but they are not being here and I am not being see them yet."

Trey scratches the back of his scalp, and laughs. "Oh! I an' I did not tink 'bout tat, Azi. I be tinkin' yah already know o' tat one. Mebee I an' I be listenin' ta too much side talk when I was at tee dorms, ha!" Dropping the subject with naturally cheerful disdain for awkward moments, his hands continue to move across the console in front of him.

"When will I an' I know when tee bird's eyes, tey be launched?"

"Construction is being take a few minutes.  Required adapters and structural elements are being machined and stress tested now." Aziza notes cheerfully.  "Once that is being completed, refit of drone body into new missile base is being very easy, and then all that is being needed is painting on new name "Ocular of a Predatory Bird who spots prey by eyesight" and patching in firmware drivers for chaff dispenser."

"Tere enough paint for all tat?" He jests, referring to the rather extreme name length. Releasing his hold on the console for a moment, the young man spins about, planting his EVA rig boots on the green, green grass - but not standing up. Hand automatically feeling along the wall, as if ready at a moment's notice to grab hold of any outcrop, despite his belted and seated status.

Habit of an old hand at deep space.

"If ever-ting be automated, what yah do when tere be no-more tings needin' yah attention? Nevah problem on tee Prospectah - ha! I an' I was lucky tee air scrubbin' was au-to-mated." He laughs gaily.

"There is always being something that is being need repairs." Aziza notes.  "And even when there is not being enough work I am often being shot at by mercenaries, or being check ship for infestations of parasites or diseases.  And the guest crewmembers are often not being careful enough about hygiene so I am being sometimes check them as well." she adds seriously.
"Mss. T'Risa and M'kira are being understand fun better than I am, perhaps if you are being wish you can ask them."
So saying, Aziza opens a communications channel to the Yacht to see if they're having fun at the moment. . .

OOC~ Take 10 for a 23 total on a use computer check to hail the others.