World Tree MUSH

     A small ship enters the Sargasso Space Zone, one that vaguely resembles a particular species of winged dinosaur, and should be relatively familiar to the guys manning Star Wolf Base as she's already been here a few times. She attempts to establish a comm link before speaking to her request. "Calling Base Command, this is Cloud Runner entering Sargasso Space and requesting clearance to dock for repairs." She starts to begin her approach to the station before getting a response, expecting to be cleared, but still keeps her distance for the moment, knowing sometimes these guys shoot first and ask questions later. 

     Krystal's ship has certainly seen better days as it appears she's gotten caught up in a fight with someone and there are scorch marks and burned away metal and paint in a few spots, tell tale signs of blaster strikes. If granted clearance, she will direct her ship toward the docking bay and land in the given space.

    "Cloud Runner, copy. This is Dockmaster Eezi," says a badger whose face appears over the comms line. There is a moment of silence following as credentials are scanned. "You're approved to dock through Port Two, Landing Pad Twelve. Mind the outgoing traffic. Autodocking sequence is available on approach to Port Two -- mind the beacons -- or you can bring her in manual if you want to give the crew a good scare, ha ha. Ticket is in for a repair job. Depending on the work, could take a while for a team to get you shined up. Do you need to request any other services on your visit? Fuel prices are down if you need to top up. We can set up a room for you, too, but stay off the lower decks if you wander. Steam valve came loose. Not dangerous, but the place is a bit of a mess until the cleanup crew finishes up." 

    This badger sounds more like he'd be a better fit at an official space port than the base of a band of mercenary pirates. His tone of voice is direct, clear, and he often makes eye contact with the holo comms display despite carefully reading over the information for inbound and outbound vessels.

      Overseeing the in-and-out on Port Two is not a ghost, though between the diminutive height and the soiled coveralls on the fennec, Fionn does blend into the background a bit. A better tell on his wayline is the small swarm of engineers, leaning down only briefly to take an aged pad from the stack he's handling. "Clyde, you manage the herd for a bit. We've got a special guest coming by." 

     "Yeah, yeah, make sure nothing will blow up while you roll out the red carpet." 

     "Tanner, you keep an ear on the lower decks. If anything else gives up the ghost, you call me." 

     And so it goes until the crowd disperses into the network of bays. Some are stocked with passengers disembarking, or preparing their own journeys. Others offer a lonely view along the travel-worn pads and distant stars beyond. Fionn steps up to the console and adjusts the microphone. "Ground crew is G2G at your leisure." Professional or not, there's an idle twitch to his tail -- though whether he's excited to meet this associate of his Boss's, or just get his paws on her hardware, has yet to be seen.

     Once she's brought her battered ship in for a landing, Krystal opens the hatch and gets out. She's wearing a burgundy and pink flight suit with an open white jacket that ends as her midsection begins, and a light green scarf, along with matching white gloves, belt, and boots, with her compacted power staff hanging from said belt. She takes a moment to stretch as she looks around. She is relieved to have made it here in one piece, but with a contented sigh as she finishes her stretching, she doesn't appear too rattled.

    "Welcome to Sargasso Station," Eezi's voice signs off with no other requests made. Sargasso Station. This place always looks like a dive bar. It doesn't matter how well things run or how clean things are made, it just feels like a dump. The aged Venomian design might have something to do with it, but at the least it gives Chief Engineer Nichols a challenge. The atmospheric shielding hasn't been swapped out with ducting tape yet, so there's that. 

    Business as usual, though. The station sees a lot of people come and go. They're not all part of Wolf's crew. Trade is important, and it's better to trade with a group than it is to have them steal from you, so there's a lot of incentive for the business. Freighters, fighters, passengers; it doesn't even come close to the more official off world hubs, but it's still impressive for what it is. Still feels like a dumpster... This trash heap is home to many, though and a special guest has arrived. That must mean the request for repairs ticket is bumped up ahead of others, right?

     Whatever the state of Sargasso, Fionn's focus is on their guest for now. It's not unusual when an unusual ship shows face for the Chief Engineer to show up in the bay. He makes no concessions for his height, but before he even thinks about setting claw or paw on the ship he makes sure to give Krystal a proper welcome. 

     "Welcome aboard. Chief Nicohols, at your service." There's a hint of something in his accent, something professional under the grease stains, like an old friend from a small town that persists in this Wolf's den. "I'm just going to check the clamps. Unless you want something serviced right away?"

     Krystal looks down and greets the fennec fox with a smile as he welcomes her aboard the station. She doesn't remember seeing him before, but she supposes being small in stature might be pretty helpful for working in the tight confines of some ships while doing repairs.

     "Ah, well she does need repairs, but I'm not terribly much in a hurry, think I'd like a chance to relax before I'm climbing back in to fly somewhere. If Wolf asks for me I'll be at the bar." She says while offering a wave and making her way from the docks towards the station's main bar, after making a wrong turn and then backtracking, she eventually makes it to the entrance, and takes a deep breath before heading inside.

    A rabbit, engineer named Jesop, walks over toward Fionn after eyeing over the Cloud Runner, hands being wiped clean with a rag, before whistling as Krystal wanders off. "That's a hard one to chase, boss. Want me to hop into the cockpit and connect the panel to my tablet while you open it up? I can help you run diagnostics. The heck did she even get in a fight with? Must have lost shields, some of the panels are fried. She use G-Diffusers in this thing? Maybe they overloaded." Slack-jawed, Jesop stares at the vehicle. 

    "Wish we knew what happened. Another day in the life of, eh?" 

    It's an amazingly well-maintained social structure, all things considered. Everyone tends to behave just well enough. Krystal is the recipient of a number of wolf-whistles and cat-calls, but that's absolutely nothing new. The doorman at the bar is hardly a doorman at all. It's not like they're going to restrict people by age and the like. The bear thumbs Krystal by and goes back to watching a sport broadcast on his handheld communicator. None of the usual suspects are visible inside. Yet. The bartender on duty, a lion with glasses, glances her way just before wiping the side of a glass with a rag after a pour so that it can be handed over to one of the patrons.

     Fionn watches Krystal go and chirps at Jesop. "If any of these schmucks decide to start running laps, there's an extra box of trip-wires in D12." Fionn's attitude on the whole matter is pretty clear. Even if he's got a glint in his eye looking at the ship, and giving those few testing touches making sure that the docking clamps are secure. "None of our business what happened out there in the black. We just gotta get her dancing again." 

     While they begin the routine setup, he paces his way back to the comm and taps in a few commands. "Hey, Boss. Your fox is headed down to the watering hole. We'll get her fixed up, but it's gonna take time."

     There certainly are a few systems fried in Krystal's ship, lucky she was still able to make it here to get it repaired. Having been here before, Krystal is ready for the reaction she gets as she enters the bar and while she does roll her eyes ever so slightly, she otherwise ignores the whistles and cat calls as she moves to take a seat at the bar before waving to the bartender. "I'll have a screwdriver, please." She asks as she leans against the bar a bit, fatigue from her trip catching up with her a bit. She assumes that by now Wolf must have been informed that she's here, so now it's just a matter of if he is busy with other matters or if he can pull himself down here for a chat.

    The response to Fionn's hail comes in soon enough revealing a one-eyed wolf on screen, although the room behind him is upside down. "What, he came crawling b-?! Oh. The other one?" There's some grumbling that follows. "Other other one. Right, sure. In the middle of my last set in the gym. Let her know." A sigh drags on for a moment but the vocal effects of exercising soon becomes prominent. "This is Panther's territory. Nngh. So naturally he's off on assignment. Hrf. Guess you get to be the lucky one until I get there. Rrrgh. When I get there." 

    The room behind the wolf turns upright as feet hit a mat on the floor. "So, while I get washed up, how about you put your guys on her ship and you play nice with our space princess. Heh heh heh." Footsteps come and go and are replaced by the sound of running water. "She should know more about you, anyway." The comm is lowered before there's a splash and it goes to audio only. "Telling me you're going to turn down that chance, Nichols? Haaa heheheh." The amused teasing falls away to resignation. "...all right. Gimme a few." Blip. 

    The lion at the bar finally gets to Krystal and nods in acknowledgement before gathering up a bottle and a few oranges, a glass, and some ice. "How stiff would you care for it to be, my dear?" asks the lion as he works on slicing the oranges in half before using a shaped press to squeeze the juice into a mixing glass. "Long trip?" The bottle of clear liquor is measured and splashed into the same mixing glass and this is followed by a chunk of ice that is slightly broken with a spoon. Capped off and given a shake over one shoulder, the lion scoops some ice cubes into a highball glass before straining the juice cocktail over it, then tops it off with a small float of raspberry-lavender syrup and garnishes it with a sprig of mint. Fancy for a dive like this.

     Fionn's ear flicks at the return report from the Wolf himself. "Don't get too excited. I don't have enough hands to keep this place together if you go giving yourself a hernia." He glances up at the cockpit, where Jesop is well on the way to getting the diagnostic system in place. "You know my type. I'll let'er know, though." 

     Once the call is over, he gives a quick pipe to his staff. "Give her a once over. Call in backup if you need it but don't go tearing it apart 'til we have a better idea what we're looking at. I wouldn't mind hearing what she put the ship through myself." 

     And with that pretense out of the way the fox goes to clean himself off, in a fastidious manner, getting most of the scents of jet fuel and grease out of his fur before sifting his way down to the bar to pull up a seat. "Mind if I keep this warm? Lord O'Donnell is just taking care of some last minute business."

     "Yeah, long trip, give it some kick." Krystal responds to the question of how stiff she'd like her drink. Once the drink is set down before her she takes it in one hand and starts with a small sip, fancy yes, and well made too for a dive bar on an old base run by a wanted criminal. But she supposes some of the guys that frequent this station likely spend a fair amount of time in places like this, and perhaps a few of them are picky about their drinks. 

     Despite getting lost on the way here, she's made a decent dent in her drink by the time Fionn is finished freshening up and made his way down to the bar. She turns hearing his now familiar voice and nods to the question of having a seat next to her. "Sure, I don't mind, and I figured as much. Have you been working for Wolf long? I don't remember seeing before though, I suppose there's probably a fair number working the docks on any given day and I'm certainly not enough of a regular to have seen them all." She rambles a bit in her tiredness.

    The bartender checks on Fionn when he shows to see if there's anything he needs and is generally glad to see that the vixen has reliable company. It's not the people there drinking are all bad. It's more that theer's only so much to do on a station like this and sometimes they get bored. 

    "Piece of crap dart board. Seriously, why does it need to be electronic? What's wrong with a good ol' fashioned game of darts without lights and sounds?" It would seem that the lion has to step away to talk to somebody there before somebody's temper gets out of hand. Still, they have a good point. Darts! Exactly the kind of thing drunken criminals need to have to toss around, right?

     For better or worse, Fionn's still on the job, meaning he'll have to stick to some less-loosening imports. Probably some dusty bottle of aged Agave that no one else is willing to touch. "Thanks. I've been here a few years... but there's a good chances I was ankle deep in some duct or another most times you were around." He swirls his glass and smiles. "All things in their time." 

     There's a twitch in his tail as he watches the 'tender go off to reign in the locals. Even though his eyes are on the distant flicker of lights and shouting, for a moment, he still speaks to Krystal. "Won't go prying into your business, but anything you can tell me 'bout what happened to your Cloud Runner? Could save my crew a bit of digging around."

     "Yeah, a bunch of inebriated criminals throwing tiny needle-tipped arrows around for sport, what could go wrong?" Krystal mutters under her breath with a chuckle before turning her attention from the retreating bartender to the diminuitive fox beside her. "It's a dirty job but someone's got to do it, yeah?" She comments before taking a sip from her drink as he asks about what happened to her ship, and she frowns while giving a nod. 

    "Poor thing limped all the way here, wasn't sure we'd make it. Don't really know who I ran into, perhaps some rival space pirates, or just a bunch of space scum that were bored and decided to use me for target practice? I fought back but it's easy to be outnumbered when you're alone. As you can see, barely managed to fend them off, another good hit or two and I imagine I'd be a rather crispy fox."

     Fionn's ear twitches at the remark and he gives a derisive snort. He's eager to turn his attention from the ne'erdowells to more pleasant matters. "Oh, it's not really dirty. Not unless someone goes tracking mud in from planetside." He laughs good-naturedly, and takes a sip while settling in to listen. 

     "That so? Pretty impressive, managing to handle a squad like that if you're flying on your lonesome. I know what you mean though. Just having a lone signal is an embossed invitation to some of these drifters." He shakes his head. "Not in THIS sector, I hope. Wouldn't do well if someone thought they could go stomping around here... tch. Well, you made it here in one piece, and I'm glad for that."

     Krystal nods and takes another sip of her drink, finishing it off and setting the glass down. "Yeah, hopefully I didn't burn up all my luck or I'm going to have to start going everywhere with a paid escort... and I wonder how Wolf would react if it had happened in this sector. That man is hard to read sometimes... most of the time." She corrects herself. "Anyway, happy to meet you, and to have your guys working on my ship. Do you have a first name, Chief Nichols, suppose you might already know mine since Wolf was expecting me."

     Fionn pulls out a pad and pulls up an old grid. The display looks ancient by computer standards, green lines on black and a screen half an inch thick. "Something tells me you've got fortune to spare. If you want, I can teach you a little trick. You can use your radar to scatter your signal, make it look like you're traveling in formation. Won't fool any of us, but should make the dumber ones think twice before picking a fight." 

     "Wouldn't say that too loud. I'm sure you'd get plenty of volunteers... and who knows? Depends how merciful Wolf is feeling that time of day." So we're on first name basises now! That's fine enough for Fionn. Given the circumstances, he's not surprised and not offended in the slightest. "You suppose right, but it'd be rude of me to presume. You can call me Fionn if you'd like."

     Krystal watches what Fionn is doing on the screen while she listens, and nods. "That's a neat trick, I'll have to play around with that a bit when my ship is fixed." She then looks around the room as Fionn mentions she may not want to say too loudly that she is in need of a paid protector. "Fair point... I'm sure plenty of guys here would just 'love' to follow me around, for much more than the reason I intend..." She agrees, giving a nervous laugh. "In any case, we can't be having any rudeness going around, so I'm Krystal Alysia, pleased to meet you Fionn, first fennec fox I've ever met."

    A figure leans against the frame leading into the station bar. Legs lightly crossed, the tall figure claps slowly. "Gonna have to put you on welcome duty more often, Ears. Good to see you're making friends." 

    O'Donnell pushes from the door frame and begins to walk closer. Fresh from the gym decks above, the wolf wears a black tank top shirt with some kind of jean-styled pants and boots. The fur on his face and atop his head is still lightly damp. He spreads his arms a little bit as he approaches. "Word is somebody got shot up pretty badly," states Mr. Eye Patch. "Is this true? Who was it? Do you know, kitten? Do we know from metrics from the ship yet?"

     Fionn puts his paws up and waves them side to side a bit. "I reccomend it! Your ship's all you've got between these little islands, so the more you get to know each other, the better. I bet you've already got some secrets of your own..." And he'll leave it at that, bobbing his head and offering his hand. "No rudeness here, no ma'am. You're the first fox of your kind I've met, so we're pretty even." 

     Enter the Wolf. Fionn puts his glass down and turns his head back, putting his best award-winning smile. "If you think that's the best use of my skills. Maybe Monsieur Caluroso can take over the corp. ... has the aptitude, hm..." The Fennec saves the thought for later and sticks to the business at hand. The fox can tell her own story, but Fionn does pipe in, "Jesop's pulling telemetry right now."

     Krystal frowns slightly at the mention that she's the first of her kind he's met as well, though she supposes she walked right into getting that response. It's been a while since she lost her home and her people, but the pain still lingers. "I'm afraid it would be rather hard for me to not be the first, since I am now the last of my kind." She states before turning to Wolf as he enters, glad for the change of subject as things shift back to the subject of her ship and the state it arrived in. 

     "It was out past Zoness' orbital ring, and I didn't recognize their markings. I guess they thought it would be fun to blast me into space dust. Though if any clues can be pulled from my ship that would be interesting." She says while looking back to Fionn to see if he had any thoughts on that idea.

    "Caluroso..." Wolf parrots, speaking slowly, before leaning in against the bar nearby and flashing a couple fingers on one hand. "-has TWO skills. Killing people very very dead from a very long way away...and talking too damn much." He sounds...irritated, question mark? Those fingers slip over the bar and fish around before finding a bottle to pull up. Citrus liqueur. Strong, but cheap. The lion notices this and takes note, but instead of making a fuss the bartender offers a couple shot glasses. 

    Messily pouring some shots, O'Donnell stares between Krystal and Fionn. "...here's the rub," he says, voice lowered, a bit more serious in tone. "Krystal. Were it your counterpart being attacked, I'd figure this was a Star Fox problem. After all, she joined up with Fox and his crew until they had a falling out after the Invasion. Maybe, uh, it'd be like a revenge sort of thing. A way to get back at the mercs that work with the Cornerian Alliance. But you..." Wolf puts down the bottle and then slides a shot glass over to the blue fox. "You only partially had that affiliation." A glass is pushed over to Fionn and then he pours another for himself. 

    "But it doesn't take the smartest spacer to watch you dipping into known territory -- MY territory. So... I wager the group that went after you wanted to pick a fight with me or else they're finding out about now from those in the know that they just shot up the wrong ship." Wolf shotguns the whole glass before grunting and making a face. Too sweet. "Which one is your money on?"

     Fionn's lack of prying in this case may not be the most tactful thing, for all its honest. "Then I'm going to be needing a better drink to toast to you and yours," he replies. There's probably something bigger than a sob story there. The fennec is experienced in swallowing his grief, though, so he finishes his juice and picks that pluck right back up. 

     Right on time, there's the glass. Fionn picks it up, giving it a ponder. It means he's off the clock -- or at least the clock that has him fiddling with expensive, volatile ship parts. He raises the glass in salute to the vulpine guest. "If someone is sending a message, they're not leading with their best hand. That the case, I'll want to hook Krystal up with something a little nicer than party tricks."

     Krystal chuckles at the description of Caluroso's skills but becomes focused when the conversation shifts back to who was shooting at her. Leave it to Wolf to cut right to the two most likely scenarios at play. "Suppose it could be a case of mistaken identity with some goons that are too dense to notice my ship doesn't have any Star Fox insignia on it, but these guys didn't fly like stupid goons, and as much as I hate to admit it, I guess I am likely to be viewed as an easy target to hit to send you a message, when you put it that way. I think Fionn is right, likely time to upgrade my defenses, at the very least."

    Pling! goes a notification. It's Jesop, or at least a still image of his face to show who is sending a message to Fionn. Speech-to-text scrolls a little of what is said: 

Hey, boss, you might wanna look at this. Remote view my work tablet and take a look at these readings. 

    All it would take is a tap to pull up the machine hooked up to the Cloud Runner. Other preliminary observations are written in as notes and include outer hull details and material, the type of damage done to the hull, and extrapolations as to the type of energy weaponry required to pull it off. It's little wonder why the ship is so beat up, though the readings show, compared alongside internal diagnostics, that it's a miracle the ship survived at all. With this type of abuse, the G-Diffusion system would have overloaded and shut down quickly, but apparently it held out longer than the numbers show it should. That type of weaponry doesn't find its way into the hands of the frivolous and stupid. It was either somebody with military connections or somebody with a lot of money...or somebody from one of the bordering Universes. 

    O'Donnell has no idea what the interruption is about, though, so he offers the added punishment of another round of citrus shots. "This stuff is garbage. Nobody in their right mind would drink this stuff," he argues before knocking back another. That is, until the feed from the Cloud Runner is suddenly shifted to video. It's a frog. 

    "Happy Birthday, Krystal! Well, it's n-not really your birthday, but it was close to the anniversary of when Fox found you on Sauria a-a-and- It's been ages since we hung out and I was really stoked to see you on the registry at the spaceport in Corneria. I didn't know you had a vintage ship like this. It's practically an antique c-compared to all the ship R&D now, so it's weird to see so much top of the line stuff retrofitted to it. Did you give up your Arwing completely? I mean, it's n-n-n-none of my business, but I still owed you a birthday present and you said I could work on your ship anytime, so while you were on a date with that fancy cat guy I made some modifications that should help nominalize your G-Diffusion output. It's still experimental tech, but it's proven -- tr-r-rust me, Krystal, if it's one thing I know, it's my dad's tech! Probably really good against the micrometeor season coming up or-" 

    It's a prerecorded message. The frog on the screen is rambling a bit. 

    Wolf points. "That's...coming from her ship?"

     "There's only a few sectors where people take pot shots at each other for fun," Fionn grouses. "If you've got a mark, figuring it out will be half the fun." 

     The fox's ear perks at the ping and he leans down to read the message. An emergency? No, not quite. He swipes down with a pad and lays it out on the table so the pair can see the same thing he's seeing. "... this was no hit and run. We'll have to run ballistics before we do repairs..." He fires off a quick message to Jesop. The bun' probably knows what he's doing, but it's good to keep things clear. 

     Fionn's about to weigh in on the liquor when an all-too-familiar face appears on screen. The fox's snout wrinkles and his ears lay back, but he says nothing. He doesn't look up to address Krystal. "... tell me it's not the first time you're hearing this."

     "It's garbage, and yet you continue to drink it even after saying no one in their right mind would drink it. Really trying to get wasted tonight for some reason?" Krystal teases Wolf a little, then absently lifts her empty glass only to remember she already finished it and put it back down. 

     She frowns at the description of how banged up her ship was, then nods. "Yeah, those guys really shot me up good, guess I came even closer to biting it than even I realized. Guess I was lucky with that G-Diffuser, or..." She trails off as the video comes into view. 

    At first she doesn't recognize Slippy, having never met him, but when he mentions Fox and Sauria, then goes on about abandoning an Arwing she never had, it clicks, only for things to move on to talk about her having a date with Panther. "It wasn't a date! We just talked" She protests despite the fact Slippy obviously can't hear her and the fact she looks like she's blushing a bit under her fur. She clears her throat after a bit and tries to move on. 

    "No, not my first time seeing that... Anyway, it seems this frog friend of Fox's mistook me for the other Krystal and upgraded my ship. Guess in a way I owe him my life..."

    Wolf stands there to one side scratching at his chin with his claws. This also comes with a side-glance with his good eye at Krystal as she goes on the defensive over her meetings with Panther. The frog continues to ramble a bit at length, nothing of which is terribly important to note, but is mildly impressive. O'Donnell's eye passes focus between the blue fox and the fennec a few times. There's an amount of history involved of which the vixen wouldn't be aware. "Maybe. Still doesn't explain why you were a target in the first place. ...and, for the record, we don't waste the garbage. We use it up and hope a better bottle replaces it." 

    Not a word is said regarding the work done on Krystal's ship by the frog. Wolf can understand if Fionn feels it to be a great intrusion. All the more reason to give the ship a full check-up, then. "Why the heck is it playing now, then? Sounds like it was meant to trigger upon, what, ship diagnostics? If you've heard it before, well, I dunno. Could it have been a recursive programming error or a fault of the power grid; especially if there's a part in there tweaking the G-Diffusion." The one-eyed lupine looks directly at Krystal with a predatory grin. 

    "So, how long ago was this date with Panther?"

     "That sounds like the kind of mistake a Toad would make..." Fionn grumbles. "Quantum identities are something they seem to struggle to grasp. At least this slip-up works in your favor... looks you're already one upgrade out the gate. We'll need extra hours to crack it, but should be able to get it up and running again." Not to mention get an eye on some Beltino tech. Fionn might be reluctant to employ it, but a chance to pick it apart -- now that's a thing. 

     The fox listens -intently- to Slippy's ramblings with the expression of a fennec about to jump a beetle. Flattened ear twitches a couple times in the midst of that. "Doing some recon?" He asks innocently of Wolf. It's a little out of line, but some situations call for impropriety. Surviving an assassination attempt is one of those times.

     Krystal chuckles about the drink. "Hope that works out more often than not. Guess it must sometimes, my drink is decent. Anyway yeah, the upgrades certainly doesn't explain my current situation, but hopefully my ship has more secrets to reveal about who was shooting at me and why." Speaking of her drink, she waves down the bartender for a refill, then looks back at Wolf. 

     "As for my 'date' with Panther, it was probably one of the times we met to talk about finding information about what happened to Cerinia, but the frog must have slipped in, done his thing, and gone before I got back so who knows when exactly it was..."

    Regarding both Fionn and Krystal's comments and replies, Wolf raises his hands. "Hey, look, I'm just saying that, as 'upper management' of our operation here, it's good to know when there's fraternization." Wolf lowers his hands and reaches out to push the bottle of citrus stuff toward the lion when he returns to make Krystal another fancy screwdriver, then gestures with two fingers to swap it for something else. "Not that I'm against it or anything, but I find it's better not to assign couples to the same job. You know. For future reference." 

    O'Donnell leans against the bar counter with an elbow and waits a few seconds for dramatic effect before poking the hornet nest again, this time in a mock-whisper tinted with pseudo-fatherly concern. "Isn't he, like, almost twenty years older than both of you?"

     "We'll see what the lab comes back with. Do you mind if we pull your sensor logs? I'd like to get as much info as possible before someone decides to put boots in the vaccuum..." Fionn rubs at his chin and stares down at the display. There's a lot of story that readings can tell. "Might be worth scraping the debris... did we send anyone to that sector?" Fionn can have -ideas- but he's still not in the position to direct orders around Sargasso. Not unless anyone's name is prefixed with Engineer, anyway. 

     "My work is my first love. I hope you're not planning on getting a restraining order for that..." Fionn replies blythely. At least to THAT question he doesn't get too worked up.

     "Well, I don't think you have to worry about, and if it is something you'd rather avoid, I'll let you know if we start falling for each other." Krystal responds with a grin as she reaches to take a swig from her drink, and giggles as Fionn says his work is his first love. Turning toward the shorter fox, she shakes her head. 

    "Feel free to look at those logs or anything else you think will help, I don't have any secrets hiding in there, and I'd agree that seeing if the debris around where this happened might hold any clues it might be worth checking, though could also be dangerous."

    Fionn's hands aren't completely tied, though. A damage and repair report can come with suggestions and data extrapolations to help advise what happens next. He can even put in for a personal investigation, too. It's not like he's a rookie in a pilot seat. With any luck, investigation will provide something conclusive. Ballistics, armor decay, astrometrics, processing logs, diagnostics, and wrenching are all part of the process and they each take time. 

    The well-dressed bartender recaps the bottle of liqueur and takes it away, swapping it for a bottle of brandywine, before preparing a replacement cocktail and sliding it over to Krystal for her to drink. "We might have a few scouts near the conflict zone, but we won't know until we better pin down the area location. Let me know what your people find out and we'll go from th-" Wolf is mid-pour of some brandy as the lights flicker, the station shudders, and a feeling of weightlessness briefly washes over everyone. The artificial gravity didn't go out. It was something else, brief yet potent. Liquor winds up spilled onto the bartop and O'Donnell hastily claps the bottle onto the counter. A finger goes to his earcomm. "Somebody better talk to me," he insists, turning away. There are others besides Fionn that help monitor the station, after all, although Fionn does get a call notification from Jesop with a typical beeping ring.

     At matters of romance, Fionn has a few choice remarks but otherwise continues to pour over the data up until the point at which there's a shudder enough to destabilize the station. The beeping goes on about the same time Fionn reaches up and taps the node on his ear. "We weren't expecting any bad weather this week. Give me some good news." 
     While waiting for a reply, he glances over at Krystal and Wolf. "Nothing to worry about, I'm sure... nothing but five star resort service."

     Krystal nods as Wolf speaks, it looks like she'll be waiting around for a bit, and she goes to take a sip of her freshly made drink when suddenly the gravity lapses for a moment and most of it winds up splashing her in the face and chest. She sputters for a moment before looking to Wolf, then to Fionn. "Your power generation on the fritz lately?" She asks as she grabs a napkin and tries to clean herself up a bit and waits to hear what Wolf hears back on what the heck is going on.

    A lot goes on at once. Most people there in the bar, even in the station, aren't worried, but people are going to look into it anyway and that can cause a bit of a stir. Wolf is on comms, Fionn is on comms, and the bartender offers Krystal a warm reassuring smile and a hand gesture that equates to 'don't worry' as he cleans up the spill and tidies up the bottle and glasses. 

    What Fionn hears over comms is a lot of fuss. Not panic, just lots of people clustered trying to figure things out. "Tried to access root registry to map modular placement of those piecemeal parts," states Jesop over the many voices talking nearby. "Needed a full reset of the system, so we powered down to cycle it back up again and the G-Dif cut on with a massive discharge. Never seen anything like it. The main fueling is offline and the secondary power system is drained, so I don't think it's possible to happen again until we turn it all on. Must have made a bubble big enough for a quarter of the station before going dead." 

    O'Donnell, meanwhile, has his own conversation from Station Ops, yet all he knows is that something had an epicenter in the main hangar deck. Krystal gets a good stare and a half-angry, "What the heck did you bring onto my station," before getting lost in more comms chatter. Ultimately, no major damage was done. The overlapping G-Diffusion fields for Sargasso Station experienced some interference from the brief overlay of the other field, but they don't seem to have any immediate issues. They'll need to be cycled later, though, for basic maintenance. 

    "Deep breaths, in and out," says the lion with glasses to Krystal as he offers her a coaster and a clean handtowel. "Shall I get you a bit more to top that back up?"

     As soon as Fionn gets the details, he's all business. "All right. Put it on lockdown until further notice and run a system diagnosis on all decks just in case. We don't want any of the feedback to cause issues down the line. I want that thing unplugged and in my lab by the hour. No offense, Jesop, but I want to take a look at this one personaly." After that, it's all readouts and rapid-fire checkins with deck crew where deck crew can be spared. He does spare a sympathetic look to Krystal. 

     "Gonna have to take you up on that whole 'no secrets' offer. Figure you want to know what you're carrying in that ship of yours. Might be the line between kissing or killing that Frog." 

     And 'lest it be forgotten, he nods to Wolf. "Hope you don't mind hosting a little impromptu science expo from our friend at Beltino Labs. Didn't kill the booze, did it?"

     Krystal nods to the bartender as she trades the wet napkin for a fresh handtowel and finishes getting a bit more of the spilled drink mopped out of her fur, to get the rest she'll need an actual shower. She sighs at Wolf's outburst and takes a sip of her refilled drink. 

     "Whatever I brought, I didn't do so knowingly, so yeah, even more of a reason to take a deep dive into what modifications have been done. As long as it helps get to the bottom of all this and my ship is safe to fly when you're done, have at it." She sits back down on the barstool now, hoping the issues with the artificial gravity are behind them for now. 

    "In the meantime, I suppose I'm grouinded so if I can do anything to help around here, I'm happy to lend a hand, be it physical or psionic"

    The bartender moves along, though, with a few other small messes to deal with. It's not the classiest of clientele normally, so some mess is expected by the end of each day anyway. Nothing more comes from Jesop. He has his orders. After a moment of further talk on damage reports, things seem to calm down. Wolf sighs and all but collapses onto a stool there at the counter and rubs a hand over his forehead a few times. "Every now and then we get rogue asteroids flung our way," he says while reaching with his free hand to grasp a glass of half-poured brandy. "If our perimeter cannons can't destroy or repel them, we get hit. The shields take a blow, but the recoil can shift the entire station's position." 

    Taking a sip of the strong burning liquid, the lupine boss exhales deeply. "It's miniscule and we usually have time to lock things down, but it's still unsettling...not to mention taxing on the station's integrity stabilizers. This type of thing isn't a first, especially if one of the station's G-Diffusers acts up, but you don't see that kind of output from a personal ship." Wolf tiredly looks over. "Just to be clear, I don't openly blame you, but if you heard that message play before then had some clue your ship had been tampered with. I can make sure it gets fixed up, but...you're gonna owe me a favor. And maybe a gift basket for Nichols and his crew."

     "Get me a few more fellows that don't giggle every time someone says 'monkey wrench,' and we might be able to do something with those perimeter canons," Fionn muses. Despite the demanding nature of the work, it's less overture than it would be in the Cornerian military. The 'die' in do-or-die is just a lot less figurative when you've got an independent station in this region of space. "I think what we're trying to say is, 'enjoy your stay.' The amenities upstairs are a bit more your speed, I'd imagine, but the further we keep them from the alcohol the better." 

     Fionn's 'favor' in this whole affair is just going to be getting some new toys to play with, and new grudges to stoke with his arch-nemesis. Which leaves him oddly pleased once the dust has settled. He refills his agave and tilts his head up to Krystal. "Psionic, huh? You'll have to indulge me what you can do."

     "I'm sorry, I really had no idea it could do stuff like this. Maybe if I was more familiar with this toad that did the work I'd have had a better idea of what was done, just seemed like a friendly gesture meant for the other me, which I figured as Fionn eluded to earlier, the mixup worked in my favor." Krystal says with a shrug. "And besides, I already said I'd help while I'm here, if you want a favor for the trouble of helping me with my ship, just name it." 

     She finally turns back to Fionn and nods. "Sure, we can talk about it more later if you like, but to put it simply, I'm a telepath." She answers before taking another sip from her drink.

    "I don't think I'm making myself very clear," says O'Donnell as he taps his glass against the countertop. "Like it or not, this is now a business transaction. We don't know how much needs rebuilding or how much the tech is worth -- if anything -- that your ship apparently had installed." He knocks the rest back before pushing the glass away. That's enough for one sitting. He turns to face Krystal and Fionn a bit more directly. "I don't know if that message was on a looping broadcast, if it was what attracted others to attack you, especially if it made you look like a member of Star Fox, or if the tech installed may have been a pronounced signature that simply lit up your position like a beacon, or if it's because you've been using our ship lanes in my territory and it made you look like a member of Star Wolf, or maybe all of the above." 

    "Point is, kitten, nothing you can do during your stay can be put toward what is owed since we don't know how much it is yet. You wanna do work here, now, you'll get paid for it here, now." Wolf circles a finger in the air pointing downward. "But all of this going on? Favor. But...you're not grounded. You've been allowed to borrow a scout ship in the past. If you need one in the meanwhile, ask this walking pair of Ears as he'll get you set up. You two seem to have some stuff to talk about anyway. Wee woo powers and stuff."

     Fionn knows when to put his paws up and let Wolf work. "I'm sure can come to can amiable conclusion. Even if it just means bringing in a nice new case of '85..." he teases the point a bit longer before finishing off the rest of his drink and sitting up. "You'll have to mind my curiosity, just a passing thing. It's good to learn things that I don't immediately try to slap into circuits somewhere. Keeps one worldly and wise." A quick glance around the bar. The mood is starting to settle again. Darts are back where they should be, or definitely not be. Conversation starts to build volume again and if there was a jukebox someone should probably slap it about now. "Just tell me what you need. I'll find a way to make it work, as long as he's saying so."

     "I really hope that message wasn't on a looping broadcast, how embarrassing... But anyway, if you'd rather put off talking about favors till we have a clearer picture that's fine with me. Forgot you let me borrow a ship before, nice to know the offer still stands." Krystal says with a smile aimed at Wolf, downing the rest of her second drink. 

     "But... we can talk about work tomorrow perhaps, after I've had a shower and some rest, honestly surprised I haven't fallen asleep on the bartop with how I felt when I got here. Hopefully, I still have the energy to make it to a place to crash on this station." Krystal adds as she stands and stretches, giving a yawn.

    "Right. Well, as much as I'd love to pass you off to Nichols here for escort duty to one of our guest rooms, I need him to get to his workshop to get things prepared for whatever the heck it is he's got to look over. Not the happiest with experimental Toad tech showing up unannounced, but Nichols has the right of it. This could be a boon if he can reverse engineer some upgrades for us out of it. Some sort of G-Diffuser overdrive, or turbo switch, or...FX Chip, or whatever the heck he wants to call it. Heh!" 

    Wolf stands up and pushes away from the bar. "Which means I get to lead the way this time. Better not let Panther know. Come on, kitten. I need a smoke. Ears, gonna take a look at the astrometrics and see which gangs run the areas. Maybe make a few calls. See how cordial they are. Maybe suit up and need my Wolfen ready, if it comes to it. Sometimes Dr. Wolf needs to make housecalls." 

    "So...Krystal. What number am I thinking of?"