Emmettmcglynn

"I wouldn't dream of implying something criminal!" Mahan protests with feigned indignation. "I was merely inquiring after if you had any standing public contracts with the various planetary governments of the Reach. It'd be rather fruitless of my crew and I to jump into a system looking for work only to find the experts have already solved all the problems, I'm sure you agree. Perhaps likewise with your esteemed peer companies, if you happen to have word. Wouldn't want to bother them, hm?" With a false smile and a wave a hand, Mahan signals a break in the topic and a transfer to another part of the conversation. "I'd also be interested if you might have some work for a third party contractor at some point? I'm sure you can handle anything the Reach can throw at you, of course, but sometimes it pays to offload some of the workload onto another intrepid group who happen to crew a Harrier-class warship." The fact that a warship of that class could likely handle any of the "peers" to the Consortium that Mahan had just mentioned went pointedly unsaid, but he allowed the implication to hang in the air.

Mahan had never been an investigator. It had never been a career path he'd considered, it had never been something the Navy had taught him, and now that he was left to his own devices in a pleasant pirate den he found himself decidedly out of his depth. He knew those suited to skullduggery and snooping were already on the hunt for their main target, that Kesper and Rahne were off doing strange psychic things he didn't understand, and he had already completed his planned objective ahead of schedule. That left him with little guidance or direction, but a gentleman did not depend on others to dictate his actions and so a plan of action was hastily devised. When it came down to it they intended to conduct piracy in the near future, and a good raider ought to know the other side. GeDeCo was an unreliable titan of self-interest, and Pemtex a shadowy clique of false leads, and neither dealt primarily in security. That left the Murghen Consortium, and if anyone would have useful information about places that amateur pirates shouldn't poke it would be the private security operating in the beating heart of regional piracy. As a public facing company it was simple enough to track down a represenative, ideally one who wasn't particularly swamped in customers and had a particularly bored expression. Stepping through the door swiftly before pausing to let his greatcoat settle dramatically, Mahan tucked his cap under his arm and strode over to the delegate with a disarming smile. "Good day, honorable representative! I believe I have the distinction of speaking to a member of the honorable Murghen Consortium, yes?" Before his opposite could answer the rhetorical question, he pushed on saying "As it happens, I myself am something of an entry into the private security myself having recently left naval service. I was hoping I might have a moment of your time to ensure that my services are only placed upon those who require it, and are not already under your protection and patronage, within the Reach. If nothing else, I would at least to get familiar with the titans of the business."

After the arrival on Theev Mahan makes a point of not pushing the engines to maximum thrust, buying them time to talk before they touched down. From the Captain's chair he looked to the crew and asked, "This might be our last chance on-world to talk without risk of being overheard, so if there's any questions or thoughts voice them now. Eirene, Urien, you both seem familiar with this sort of company so any insights would be appreciated. From what we gathered from Krrsh, I think our first objective should be to capture Redthane's second, Miria Silverhand, and use her to direct us to Redthane himself. Secondarily, the capture of her crew and Krrsh's mutineers under Takk, if possible, to endear Torpol and Clarke as much as possible. To that end I think we'll need more stunners — I rather expect those will be easy to acquire here on Torpol. Finally, they have a high class starport and won't ask questions so if we want anything for the Harrier then this is probably our best stop for the time being, so if you've got an opinion voice it." After that he looks expectantly at them for their replies. Piloting into Theev after the crew meeting proved little issue, the pirate haven having a surprisingly well organized port of entry, but after the descent his lips pull back into a grimmace. Pointing to the display screens, he singles out the women for attention. "I'm guessing those are the Black Widows. They're the agents and enforcers of the Lords and the main force of 'order' on this planet. If rumors are to be believed, they're clones, robots, or psychics. Who knows, maybe all three. Either way, they're bad business for all of us so if you see one be on your best behavior." The summary of what little Theev knowledge could be agreed upon done, Mahan rises from his chair and heads to his room. Under normal circumstances he wore simple — by Drinaxian standards, so still far more ornate than anyone else's — crewman clothes but the first arrival on the priate capital of the Reach warrented a special appearance. When he descended the ramp out the cargo bay he had a dark blue greatcoat in a classical navy cut wrapped around a stylized uniform modeled after an infamous pre-Sindalian raider force which nearly snuffed out the Empire its infancy and topped with a large peaked cap with an ancient captain's insignia woven into the front. As he approached the Widows he swept into a wide bow doffing his hat respectfully and, if offered, lightly kissing the hand of the leader. "An honor to be here, madam." He says as he rises from the bow. "The Intent and her crew are looking forward to the care of this fine world and it is clear by this most gracious welcome that it will not be found wanting." He had no idea of flattery worked on a coven of cloned psychic robots, but he'd rarely encountered people with whom it didn't at least help. "Begging your pardon though, I'm afraid it is some of our crew's first time here so I was wondering if perhaps you could explain some of the customs which govern this fair land? So that we can avoid making some kind of hideous faux pas during our stay, you understand."

Mahan remained quiet as the crew mounted up, trusting in them to take up their pre-arranged positions as he maneuvered around the two incoming vessels. The cutter's shot was an amateurish affair and easy enough to evade, but doing so burnt up more momentum than he'd anticipated - Borite's gravity was a quarter G higher than his native Drinax's - and as he adjusted to compensate the pinnace's laser swept over the side of the ship. Even before Urien gave a damage report he felt the ship absorbing the wound, and when the Solomani gave it verbal confirmation he let out a low hiss. "I had intended to be charitable and offer them terms, but it seems they would prefer a demonstration." He said in an even tone that didn't match his dark expression. Briefly his face contorted into gruesome expression before returning to naval professionalism. It wasn't just that they'd damaged his ship, nor that they were reavers who menaced the lands of noble Sindal, though both certainly galled him. Rather it was that they did so without any appreciation for these things. The Oghman Chief clearly lacked any actual tactical acumen, planning as he was to attack a dedicated warship with a pair of barely-armed civilian vessels puttering about at minimal speeds, and now they were attempting to threaten a nimble craft with lumbering torpedoes as if she was a lumbering freighter. Did it ever occur to them how far the Trojan Reach had fallen from its glory days? What a Harrier-class represented? Would they even care? All were unlikely. It was disgraceful, both to this Chief Keia and to Drinax as a whole for being unable to maintain the splendor and glory of Sindal. Now, however, there was a chance to demonstrate. They wouldn't understand the significance, but not all demonstrations were for the benefit of those involved. With his hands on the helm, he moved to make distance between the Intent and her attackers while keeping the pursueing craft in steady view of the dorsal gun. "Mister Kesperziaiepr," he said, "a shot from the barbette into that pinnace if you would. We shall see how their aim fares then. Perhaps their Chieftan will be open to parlay then." Show this Once Round 2 Begins: 3 Thrust to making distance, 1 Thrust to aid Kesper's Gunnery, 2 Thrust reserved for evasive action. We're still in Round 1, this is not applied until after everyone has posted.  

Mahan had never imagined himself much of a merchant, and the time spent on Borite did little to dispel that belief. After two days of futile calls and headaches, he finally gave and fell back on the training he'd received in naval academy: recreational drinking. That, thankfully, proved to finally give him a breakthrough and finally he was able to get their goods sold. As he stood on the cargo ramp chatting idly and watching the trucks and carriages slowly fill with their goods, heard the distinctive ping of the sensors picking up a transmission. Instantly he drops out of his air of relaxed friendliness and back into his old persona of a career naval officer. With barely a word to the others he pivots and makes for the nearest console at speed, swapping it into sensors mode and scanning the air for inbound ships. He was never a sensor tech himself, but he was trained to fill any roll a bridge with at least the basic amount of competence and the Harrier did half the work for him even without that training. As the two incoming ships appear on his scans, his lip curls back in disdain at their paltry size and low speed. Clearly the abuse of the defenseless had left them sloppy and complacent, notions which the Intent would soon disabuse them of. Turning back to his companions of the past few days, he appraises them of the situation in clipped terms. "We've got two ships inbound, thirty minutes out, and neither moving as fast as they can. They only began moving after getting an encoded transmission from the mine where the others are. I suspect they're Oghmans and responsible for the mine sabotage. I'm going to pick up the rest then intercept the raiders, so either get on board or get to safety. Dazl, I know you're a spacer - want in?" He only barely waits for them to reply, and doesn't stick around for any form of conversation, leaving the moment all present have acknowledged the news. Moving briskly to the bridge, he drops his sword into the chair's scabbard and raises the crew at their position to let them know the news. "Captain speaking. We've got two ships inbound to your location responding to an encrypted signal sent just now. Transponders dark, almost certainly Oghman raiders. Mod-cutter and pinnace, 50 and 40 tons repsectively, both at low speed. I'm in bound to pick you up, then we'll show them what a real war bird can do." After giving them a chance to reply, longer than he'd given the Borites and Dazl to be sure, he sents his final message: letting the downport know. "Downport, this is the Reclaim's Intent. Our sensors indicate two craft incoming, no identification, thirty minutes out. I'd advise you begin whatever protocals you have for this occurance. We're moving out, will be back soon." With his last message sent he turns his attention to the pilot's controls. After ensuring that the landing pad is cleared and anyone who wanted to get onboard was stowed away he activates the M-Drive and lifts off, making for the canyon the crew were currently working in.

"As it happens," Mahan replies, "I agree. It's why I suggested giving him amnesty - he will better use as an asset than a bounty, especially when we can honestly tell Torpol he was toppled in a mutiny. My only concern is that if we're heading straight to Theev our options are to spend the next dozen odd weeks in transit, or trust Krrsh that the fuel depot is where he says it is. While I agree on your assessment that he's earnest, jumping into the void is an exercise in trust and pegging our fates to his is a good way of ensuring he's honest about the jump coordinates." He sighs and shakes his head. "Unfortunately, I think you're right. If we keep him and Cat-Killer on board, there'll be an incident. We'll be heading for Theev next which I... just don't know much about. It's the heart of the Theev Cluster, with all the baggage that implies, but I've never been. It should make for a decent place to drop him off and, assuming he wasn't lying, tap into his network for our own ends. The only issue is, can we keep the two of them apart for two weeks on the jump? Only other option is to drop him off here at Borite, and either give him transit later or tell him to find his own way. Maybe find him some sort of temp job with the locals for room and board until we can come back to pick him up." Mahan takes a moment to mull over the options now that he'd laid them out in the air. "I think leaving him here might be our best bet. We get him off the ship before he's found out, and he can't run far if he doesn't live up to his end of the bargain. Not that it'll matter if we've all starved to death in empty space, but I'm willing to take the gamble that there's a fuel dump there. Theev couldn't be the hub it is on J-3 traffic alone, so there has to be a connection into Sindal."

Mahan takes down all that the Vargr describes on his notepad. Finally he sets it down and rises to his feet, reaching a hand out for the pirate captain to shake. "Well, Krrsh, I thank you for your time. For the time being, you may make your lodging in the crew cabin closest to the bridge. I would advise you to stay inside, as we do have a marine from the Delta Vee onboard and I'd like to minimize altercations. Rahne, I'll entrust him to you for now. Feel free to wrap up, I don't think he'll cause much trouble for you." As he steps away from the table he gives a nod to the remaining crewmate staying with the Vargr before stepping out towards the entry ramp. Halfway there, he stops and turns towards the only actual pirate of their pirate crew. "What do you need, Eirene? Something he say tip you off?"

"I think that's enough, Olaf." Mahan says softly but firmly, putting a hand up to call off Solomani. "Let's keep this cordial you two." Even if his intimidation had failed, the appearance of being able to reign in an unruly and belligerant subordinate could work just as well for reinforcing control over the situation. It was actually a trick he'd learned from Captain Cho during their service in the navy for wrangling unruly spacers outside of Drinax's territory, with Mahan filling the role of the agitator disrupting the normalcy of conversation before Captain Cho showed his control over the scene by reigning in the Ensign. Of course normally they actually discussed it before hand, but Urien seemed like the kind of man who knew how to improvise. "So, mutiny." Mahan continues after a moment to let the scene settle, noting it down with a slight nod. It was about what he'd expected but it was always important to confirm assumptions when you could. He might not be an investigator but that didn't mean he couldn't grasp the basic principles. "Who led it against you, and would they have the technical skill on board to repair the Company to jump capable in the past few weeks? Under normal circumstances I'd have assumed it was your second, but you say she was the one keeping the crew in line until her passing. Why wasn't she leading the ship to begin with, if she was the one commanding that much respect from the crew? I was under the impression that Vargr crews tended to gravitate towards leadership struggles, so it strikes me as odd she wouldn't have made a play."

"Interesting, all very interesting. Your cooperation is appreciated." Mahan notes, "However you haven't answered why you were on that station. For that matter, who took over from you when you were marooned and what was the status and location of your estwhile crew when you last saw them?" He takes a moment after questioning to jot down the news from Krrsh on a notepad before continuing. "We found a wrecked A2 Far Trade, the Delta Vee, and your people were identified by one of its crew. What was your involvement in its destruction, and your relationship before it was brought down?" "Answer our all questions, and we'll consider it. However we can't let you off too quickly - we have no way of confirming that the cache or your contacts are real until we've reached it and met them. We'll have to hold onto you at least that long."

When Urien and the Vargr arrived in the galley Mahan was already reclining in a chair, his longcoat draped over the back, sipping from a glass of water. When Urien began the classic song and dance of the bad cop, albeit a markedly more radical than most cases, he remains calm and silent. Only after Urien had given his full pitch does the Captain lean forward with a more sympathetic expression and less hostile posture. "We don't have to be on different sides here," he says in a soft voice, "as you've already said, we're not holding this conversation in the airlock. All we need is for you to answer truthfully about what happened and what happened to the rest of your crew."

"Precisely my thoughts, Eirene, thank you. Instead of offering him clemency and booting him off on Borite, I intend to make use of him as an asset against his erstwhile crew. If we plan to become pirates as part of our mission then we're going to have to make friends in the underground and a rescue is a good first impression to make. Regardless, the objections on the clemency are noted, so I will not offer him clemency for aid outright. I will be conducting an interrogation however, and not simply putting him in low berth without making any use of him because that would be a tremendous waste of potential." Tapping his fingers idly against the railing he nods down to the rest of the crew. "Well then, I'll go and conduct the interrogation now. He'll only sit tight for so long and I have things I'd like to get done here on Borite so we need to get this squared away quickly. I would appreciate your expertise, Eirene, so you are welcome to join. If he's uncooperative he'll go in the low berth, but I suspect he'll be wanting to get back at those who left him to play with the Chamax pair. If he's going to work with us he'll need at least a little freedom of movement even if it is under supervision."

As the ground crew hailed Mahan furrows his brow in confusion. After a moment's deliberation passes over his face, he shrugs visibly. "Affirmative, Borite. We'll stick to the beacons. Don't want any trouble." He says, keeping his tone polite. There was no reason to make a negative first impression on future friends, after all. Touching down the Harrier he stands from the captain's chair and steps up to the ornate railing, clapping his hands to draw attention from the assembled crew. "Right, we may have to split here depending on what we want done, but before we do I'd like to sort out our Vargr guest. I intend to stay and talk to him before heading out, but if we're going to interrogate him without all hands we should go in with a list of basic questions to run through so we cover all our bases. I myself want to know why he jumped to Borite, with whom and for how long he's been working for, who succeeded his Captaincy from him, and where we should look for the Company. I plan on offering him clemency for his cooperation, and to keep to that, so if there are any objections voice them now."

Mahan spends longer than he'd like to admit fruitlessly working on the console, but in the end he gives up and accepts that he at least managed to keep it from getting worse by poking at it. Rising, he brushes off his knees habitually as the others leave. Without much to do, he inspects the door with equally little success until Urien returns. After a long consideration of the other man's question, Mahan sighs and shakes his head at the door to the cargo bay. "Won't be safe to force the thing. Space walking will be our only safe bet without access to the consoles. We'll have to head back into the Harrier, loop around from the other airlock and walk with mag clamps to get there. That'll put us in the cargo bay right by the door to engineering. Give a shot at trying to vent pressure from that part of the ship from the bridge, but if that fails we'll just have to risk opening it manually if we want to reach the reactor and un**** it. I'll grab some tools and a rad blanket, meet me by the Intent's spare airlock once you're done on this side." It was perhaps ironic, the Captain noted internally, that the aspiring pirates lacked the breaching tools so often used by ne'erdowells to board innocent ships for their original civilian purpose. Perhaps they should invest in some when they returned to Drinax.

After checking the door to the cargo bay and finding the other end depressurized, Mahan follows with the bulk of the group as they move to the bridge instead. After all, an A2 didn't have much of use without access to the cargo bay - they were hardly going to loot the staterooms while the reactor overloaded. "I'm Mahan, and we're the crew of the ISV Reclaimer's Intent. We spoke on the intercom." Mahan says, raising his hand to put a voice to a face. "A pleasure to meet you. We'd love to talk, but unfortunately our scans indicated your reactor is on the fritz and could be on course for a meltdown. If you have engineering training, we'd love your help but if not you may want to get through the airlock to safety and take a break in the galley. If nothing else we can get that arm tended to." With a signal to the doctor he leaves Cat-killer in her care. He himself leads the way, ducking through the airlock and grabbing a bag of tools from the locker. Returning, he takes a knee by one of the consoles and opens a bag of basic tools he'd brought over the Harrier's locker. It was badly hit by the pulse that had victimized the woman, but not unsalvagable. If nothing else, he could make it less of a chaotic mess to use by ripping parts from the ruined ones and moving them over. Hopefully if they could get one online it would allow the crew to get a better read on the status in the ship closer to its tail.

Using the autopilot to draw them in, Mahan throws on a vacc suit just one and a half seconds over Navy regulation. Getting rusty, he noted with consternation. Regardless, he is back at the helm with plenty of time to spare for maneuvering the ship into position. As they cross the threshold into the Delta Vee he takes in the situation and begins to respond accordingly. "Kesper, take Rahne and go secure the bridge with the survivor. Make sure to knock, they might be jumpy if this was a raider. Once you have them, head back to the Intent and get them stowed away onboard and checked for wounds or vacc exposure. Urien, Eirene, and I will head to the reactor, see if we can't get it stablized. If we can, I'll try to put the bird in stable orbit so we can come back once things are less frantic. We have our comms this time, so let's keep in touch." As he starts to move, he pauses and stops by the ship's intercom. Pressing his thumb on the speak button, he tries to raise the survivor on the bridge. "Hello, this is Captain Mahan of the INS Reclaimer's Intent. We're here to rescue you, what is your situation?" At first it seemed silent, and the taps seemed just like interference at first, but he realized it was VSR it was simple to translate. Unhooking his own vacc emergency kit, he hands it off to Kesper. "Just in case, take this. Should have some suit patches and an air bottle in case he's about to run out." Turning back to the intercom, he tapped his own reply. "On/way. Here/Cafeteria. Engine/danger."

After some consideration, Mahan does allow the passengers free roam of the common areas after the distress beacon was resolved. He himself made an effort to mingle with them to keep any impatience down, as the ship was stalling quite a bit in dropping them off at whatever passed for a Downport on Borite. Once the station was swept and the crew's desire to investigate the Vee post haste was made clear he returned to the bridge and assumed his place at the Captain's chair. As they pulled up alongside the Vee and the extent of the damage became clear, he lets out a grim sigh. "Damn, too late. Urien, give them a scan in case someone got into a vacc suit or is in low berth. Everyone else, suit up. I'll bring you in to the airlock and we can give it a sweep. If nothing else, let's put the bodies to rest. Maybe the computer will have clues to what hit her."

"It certainly was, in its heyday. Back then," He paused suddenly as Urien reported the capture of the Vargr on board. If his theory was right, that was likely the captain of the Misery's Company deposed in a mutiny after the botched aftermath of the Torpol raid. Holding up a finger to the Borites to indicate he needed a moment, and turned in his chair to visually break the conversation with them. "Good work Urien. Keep him as he is until the away team returns, then we'll make landfall." "Apologies," he says as he turns back to the passengers. "Our sensor tech just reported that the source of the distress beacon has arrived on ship. We'll beleaving shortly. As I was saying, back then Old Sindal ruled some two dozen worlds and even more smaller settlements and outposts. Borite is just a single jump away from one of their founding worlds, actually, though during the Age of Revolution it was bombed back to the stone age. This ship, the Harrier class, was one of their designs from back then, and it's one of the most advanced in the Trojan Reach because of it. For all intents and purposes, it is to an Oghman vessel what an Oghman is to your defenses." Mahan says with a smile, pleased to have a chance to speak about his people's history. "Very few planets survived their fall with the prosperity they brought, sadly. Most of their scientific knowledge was lost to history, with only one world in the region being able to maintain or operate the kind of technology on that station. I can say with some pride that that planet is my home, Drinax, where our scholars work day and night to maintain some of the most advanced hardware in this part of the galaxy." He was exaggerating, but only somewhat. It was probably better to leave the state of the Kingdom in the modern day unsaid, at least until first impressions were completed, but for now he could lay on the drama. And, most importantly, leave the implication that Drinax could repair the station and defend the planet hanging in the air.

When the other man's lighter fails, Mahan removes his own from his breast pocket and lights up Coxand's cigarette before turning to his own pipe. As the older man speaks, he simply puffs away and takes in the information. When Urien interrupts with information that they're about to be boarded he has to hide his alarm with a particularly long drag on his pipe before breathing it back out. He wasn't sure he could trust the Solomani's judgement yet, but he said he could handle it and the sound of a fight would make clear the truth of the matter. "As it happens," he says casually, "Borite does have a station. Not functioning, of course, but still intact and partially powered. A High Watch Station from the Sindalian Empire, to be precise, used as defensive bastions on worlds without armed Highports back in the day. With some help from outside it could probably be brought back online, though I get ahead of myself. You are correct that it is the source of the distress beacon, or rather that the source is onboard and the station is magifying it throughout the system. We've got an away team moving through now to the sophont onboard, though there seems to be some kind of jammer attempting to block our communications. I suspect a holdover automated system, but thankfully it's nothing that our bird can't pierce through." He allows the lie to hang in the air, disguising the intentional pause by taking his pipe out and tamping down the tobacco ash before relighting it. Within the casual motion he lets his eyes drift around the room taking in their reactions to the reveal of jamming. He was no good at spotting a liar, and didn't even particularly suspect them, but there was always the chance of spotting something worthwhile.

"Nothing the matter. The away team is pushing through the station towards the source of the beacon now. I just wanted to talk with the four of you for a little bit." Mahan says, taking the offered seat and folding his legs nonchalantly, as if unaware of the awkard tension in the room. "Specifically, about your planets raider problem." "Tobacco, anyone? Or some wine from the gallery, if you'd like." He asks, taking his pipe out of his pocket before swapping back to the previous topic. "Anyway, I was hoping you could maybe tell me a bit about your home and its regular visitors from Oghma. As you may have noticed, our ship is not exactly a conventional courier. As it happens, we on the Intent specialize in the sadly uncommon profession of pirate hunting, and your home seems a good place to work for such a thing."

"That's it?" Mahan asks, half suprised and half annoyed. "You want a total lockdown and us to go over their belongings because a Sindalian station might be advanced? You made it sound as if you had damning evidence. We both saw the scratched message, the jamming could be an automated program tuned to the strength of our signal for all we know." Shaking his head, he resheathes his blade and returns his revolver to his holster with a sign, then covers them both with his longcoat. "I'll talk to them, see if I can't get them to give something away. Keep an eye while I do that, but we're not declaring a lockdown and tearing through their goods unless we have a reason. Keep me appraised" With that, he steps from the bridge and heads down the hallway to the staterooms, forming a plan as he walks. He'll start with the four from Borite, ply them with wine and friendly talk ostensibly to calm their nerves, and in doing so try to subtly bring up the jamming to get a reaction. Even if they didn't, he could at least try to get a general picture of the situation on Borite, as even if they'd been gone for a while they would still know much about life on the planet. Indeed, it seemed like the quest to restore Drinax might be best started here on Borite, who had a problem that needed solving and a weak industrial-economic base desperately in need of outside intervention. That was getting ahead of himself, of course, but he could dream a little while he walked. Raising his hand as his reached their door, he wrapped his knuckles on it a few times and spoke up. "Hello, this is the Captain. Mind if we speak for a little bit?"

Immediately Mahan leaps to his feet, drawing the monoblade sheathed in the captain's chair in a single smooth motion. In his left hand he clears his revolver from the holster and habitually checking the cylinders. Automatically he runs through the conversations he'd had with the passengers during the week in jump for any suspicious behavior or unusual interests. "How do you know, and who do you suspect?"

"Ah, Lord Admiral Satvik." Mahan says to Urien, comm off, as the portrait comes into view. "He was one of the top enforcers in Late Sindal, and had about as many enemies as the Emperor did. The fact that he's here though... well, the man had a lot of enemies and supposedly a lot of contingency plans. The man was supposed to have a whole host of caches scattered around the Empire and its border regions, and if his portrait this station might have been placed here to guard one. Once we flush out the Chamax we ought to investigate, if we have the time." He falls silent as the snow fuzz begins to pick up on the screen, squinting in suspicious. When Urien began jamming countermeasures his squint turned into a frown. "Well, that's concerning. I don't think someone who would post a distress beacon on a station like this would be fiddling with a jammer on their own signal, but they're the only sophont on the station." Mahan says, leaning forward with a frown. "Just what the devil is going on here?" Leaving the question hanging in the air, he flips his viewscreen back to the passenger cameras to ensure that they don't have a spy or plant on board. After flicking through the cameras, he switches instead to watching the airlock and the station's exit: he'd rather not be boarded without forewarning. It would be unbecoming of the Star Guard.

"Negative, comms." Mahan says with a shake of his head. "Keep safe and good luck, away team. I'll put you in the entry port with atmosphere, should give you a few more minutes to work with." With that, he summoned the holographic controls back to his chair and begins maneuvers to the lower entry port, slowing slightly as he enters range of Kesper's psychic scans of the station to give the Zhodani time to get his bearings.

Mahan gives a long, low whistle as he eyes the visual readings. Leaning back in his chair he gives a slight smile as he chews on the end of his pipe. "Not just any station. That right there, ladies and gentlemen, is a genuine Sindalian High Watch Station." Mahan explained, making no effort to hide the admiration in his voice. "Back in their day, one of these babies could tangle with as many as four destroyers on even terms. Planet like this, was probably installed to work with on-planet defenses or an armed base for couriers and VIP ships." He chuckles as he finishes. "Of course, I don't think she's in any position to take us on one or four at a time. If that's Sindal era she'll be well over two millennia old, going on three, and even if it's from a successor state that'd still put it in the ballpark of a thousand years without love. I'll be on guard in case of automated defenses, Mister Urien, but I wouldn't put money on it. Let's put an away team together, find an entry point, and get to the beacon. Any volunteers to go with Kesper?" Then, as an afterthought, he adds "Oh, and as you make you way see if there's any Sindalian era goods left behind even if it's probably picked clean. We can go back once we've rescued everyone and dropped off the passengers. Harrier's got her charms but she's still shy a few statues and panels." He pats the ship console comfortingly, as if to reassure the ship it's still beautiful in its current state.

Throughout the journey Mahan is more sociable than the last, attending breakfast with the crew and easing into their presence as they spend more time together. In particular he tries to take time to ease tensions with Urien, considering the less than cordial introduction, as the man had purchased the superior security Mahan had failed to get out of pocket. He would be remiss not to try and reconcile. His afternoons he spends in his office, reading about Borite and its current status, government, and diplomatic ties. Finally, his evenings he returns to his room after dinner and spends his time relearning formal ettiquette long forgotten. When they drop out of jump Mahan is already in the Captain's chair sipping coffee and reading about High Sindalian military dance culture on his dataslate. Taking in the information, he quickly makes a decision and begins acting. Pressing his thumb on the comms, he puts out a call on the crew channel summoning them to the bridge. As they arrive and assume their stations, he gives directions to each. "Urien, get on active scans and get us a view of the area, this is too shady. If nothing comes up, we make course for the distress beacon, we can't leave someone floating in space without good reason. Still, that beacon isn't normal and we're chasing a known pirate so I don't want to walk into an ambush. Eirene, Kesper, one you get on the barbette up here. Hold off on manning the missiles yet, I'd rather not spook the passengers until we're actually being shot at. Rahne, whichever of you don't take the gun, head down to the airlock and suit up for void once we get close enough. We may need to bring someone in and they might need medical attention. All of you, we've got a bit until we close in so if you've got anything to do get it done soon. Any questions?" With that done, he calls up the pilot's controls onto the captain's seat and readies himself to respond to events.