Summary: Markovic heads to the deck to discuss feasibility with Weiss and solve a few problems she has.
Date: 2657.336
Related Logs: None


Later in the evening, the deck is mostly empty. Stils and Swords line the recovery area. Only a few techs are milling about doing work, but someone does not belong with the rest. There is a familiar woman looking to the bays. She's dressed in sweatpants and a well-washed/faded grey t-shirt. Her hair up in a messy bun, the woman looks like she just left the gym or bed. She's a Captain from the 221st that isn't usually seen up here at any time of day. The woman eventually comes to a stop and narrows her eyes as she looks around the deck.

Litterally hanging from underneath a scimitar, a quickly-becoming-familiar tech is grumbing as hangs half out of a ventral panel. Curses in at least three languages, the most predominant being some nearly archaic version of german, the techie doesn't look like he is repairing the vessel so much as being ingested by it. A few of the more junior spacehands watch him work, partially with awe and partially with fear, as piece after piece is being tossed onto the deck. "Nein! NEIN NEIN NEIN!" comes the bellow as the very thin and sinuos and tall man lowers himself to the deck and holds out an offending thingamajiger. "Who vas ze IDIOT who switched ze 3/4 inch plasma injector coupling for a 5/8th? WHO!" he glares at the younger ratings. "Jurrying ist fine and dandy vhen ve are short for parts. Even I could make zis work.. Butve HAVE parts. If I cetch anyobe doing zis again I vill have zere balls in a vice!" He drops the piece and pulls out a cigar from his pocket. "Back to vork!"

Yes. Angry techs are the ones to seek out on matters which this Captain has in mind. She moves over to the bay, the 5'6" woman resting her hands on her hips. "Guten abend. Ein paar minuten, Spacehand?" She wants a few minutes of his time. The German comes through in a moderately thick trail of eastern European accents that don't seem to quite settle on a country or even region. "I have a few questions I would like competent answers on."

And he was JUST about to light his cigar and enjoy a nice drag too.. Then again.. he still does. He takes a moment to respond, having to make a zippo appear as if out of thin air and lighting the cigar.. He takes a few long puffs, blueish smoke billowing, before he actually inhales.. holds it.. and lets said blusish smoke cascade from his nostrils. He looks to the Captain and nods. "Ja, I have a minute. Hell, I vill give you two." he say with a smirk. No, not much for rank and protocol, this one. "Vat questions do you have?"

"First, I have not seen them around the carrier yet and I was curious if you kept any of the one thousand liter droptanks for the Stilettos in the armaments locker. If you do not, how soon can you get them out here?" The woman doesn't look as if she expects them to be on board but is merely asking to establish supplies.

Weiss Raises a brow. "Thousand liter… You planning on taking a long trip?" he asks, sighing as he rubs his temple with his free hand. "I have no clue. I only been here a veek. Still trying to get everything caught up. But I ken ask around. And if ve do not have one? Vell, I vill FIND one.. But having a time vindow vould be nice…"

"Da. I may need two. I may be taking an extended operation. I do not know if a Stiletto can be made to use two but I will need as much fuel as I can get without sacrificing too much in terms of ammunition." The point of a time window gets a long sigh. Her arms cross as she looks off down the line of fighters while she chews it over. "Nothing right away. Within a few weeks? Three on the outside? Is that doable?" Marko looks back to him with a raised brow.

Weiss doesn't seem daunted in the slightest by the request, just crossing his long arms against his chest. They look like they were once very muscular.. He looks like he was once very muscular at one point but was worn or wasted away physically by something and is now rakish.. like he is recovering. "Ja. Doable. If I cannot find tanks, vich I may be able to, I think I can.. put something together…" he looks over at a few of the other vessels. some that are write offs. "Two, you say? Maybe not two thousand liters.. but.. maybe two seven hundred fifties?"

"A pair of seven fifties would also work. I do not yet know the range I need but I may need every second I can get out of those engines." Markovic, for being short, seems like she might have a lot of fight in her. She's confident and relaxed about the whole matter, too. Her eyes are sharp as they talk, taking in the details as if they were hearing his every word for themselves. "If you have to assemble something I will make it worth your while. You tell me what you need and I will ensure you get it." She clears her throat and her voice drops a bit. A small fidget of her feet brings her closer to the man. "Second? If you wanted someone to find your spacecraft without the Kilrathi finding you, what would you do? I was thinking of something like a locator beacon but the problem is that the kittens know to look for those."'

Weiss smirks a bit at the offer, as if he has a few ideas, but then shrugs. "I am open to bribes.. but will take a future favour if need be." he says. "I cannot say vat I will need quite yet. I am quite.. able at mein job." he takes a puff off the cigar and leans back against the gutted scarab. "As for being found by someone specific? It depends on who you vant to find you and ze situation of when you WANT zem to find you. if zey are close enough for a visual.. vell.. vent ze small waste reclaimation tank.. ze vater vill crystalize in space.. refract light or make a short tail.."

"It will likely have to be a future favor. If it turns out I cannot pay you back personally, I will see to it that someone else will." The Captain seems supremely confident in her words, never wasting a second in reply. "What if you want someone to find you outside visual range and they do not know they are looking for you? The wastewater might be an excellent idea for closer identification. I will keep that in mind. But I am talking some long ranges. Maybe out to five hundred or seven hundred fifty thousand kilometers? Is it even possible to hide something like that from the Kilrathi?"

Weiss seems to be more interested in the problem then the possible payment.. he loves a challenge. "Vell.. here is ze question.. Vill you know vere ZEY are, but zey not know where you are? or vice verse?"

"I… do not know." The Captain allows the edges of a smile to creep onto her face. "We are in the preliminary planning phase of an operation and I am just examining feasibility." She wets her lips, lifting a hand to rub at her jaw as she looks back to the line of fighters. "Assume that we will have a general idea on the location of who we are trying to contact within a few tens of thousands of kilometers. They may not know where the transmitting ship will be, but guarding the location from the receiver is not important right now." Subject to change.

Weiss nods and sighs. "I see.. Ja, zis be difficult… oooooor.. maybe not." he gets an idea and walks over to a cabinet and pulls it open.. and removes a light… And gets a definite idea. "Oh yes.. I got it. Light is a lot like radio.. It has frequencies… Other then tight beam lasers, vich cannot be tracked unless somehow you get caught in ze beam but are useless for anything less then directed communication, most sensor systems do not scan for SPECIFIC frequencies of light.. just radio. What you need to do is install a strobing light beacon that is set on a SPECIFIC wavelength that neither us or kilrathi see in.. and then set up a single specific sensor that JUST scans in zat wavelength. The strobe is set to pulse in vat SEEMS random pattern, just in case it get picked up, but which is acrually predetermined pattern.. Like secret door knock."

Markovic watches the man move to the locker and quirks a brow at the light. She seems skeptical at first, but in the end she just eyes the light as if it produced something unbelievable and she requires proof. "Is there any way for something like that to work without having a transmitter installed on the receiving craft? Or is that an immobile requirement?" She tilts her head and looks back to Weiss again.

Weiss frowns. "Well. I could probably build a tranciever ze size of a flashlight.. probably use same power packs too. You could flash it out your window. Ze recieving craft vould just have to know ze exact wavelength and frequency to filter for. And I mean exact."

Marko chews on this for a long moment and shakes her head eventually. "Nyet. That is not going to work. We may have to work specifically with a transmitter and receiver. Keep in mind we only know general directions - hopefully. So we may require something like a strobe to broadcast the signal in all directions." The Captain looks to a Stil again. "How long do you think for something like that? A month?"

Weiss raises a brow. "A month? Nyet. Days. All it be is reconfiguring a strobe beacon to emit on specific frequency. Sort of like.. uhm. just slipping red filter over flashlight to use in amateur night ops so you can see where light strikes but not the beam itself." he sounds like he MAY have some experience with that. "But slightly more technical. I could make the receiving part from small solar cell if need be.. Solar cells VERY sensitive… easy to configure specific frequency to pick up."

"Days? Wow." Markovic blinks a few times and looks back to Weiss. "Okay, go ahead and draw up a design for that receiver if you could? Just.. there are parameters: It has to be idiot proof and easy to install into a communications suite. If that takes longer, I do not mind." She takes a deep breath. "Okay, I think that is all for now. I do not care if you pull some outside help for these things I need, but the details should probably be left out of conversation. If you catch my meaning?" Her lips turn up, the woman looking a bit sly with the request.

Weiss hmmms. "Vat details? Vat vere ve talking about again?" he asks, oh so innocently. He winks and rolls the cigar between his lips. The smoke is very fragrant and pleasant, the sign of an expensive stogie. "Oh I can come up vith something. Maybe longer then few days if you vant it idiotprooof… but not MUCH longer."

"This is not a rush job. It needs to be done right the first time. But we should be able to test it first to fix and tweek it if you need to." The Captain gives the man a firm nod. "I will let you know when to go ahead with that thing we are not discussing details of and the droptanks. I appreciate the time, 'Hand. I am Captain Markovic in case you need to make inquiries." She reaches out to offer him her hand. Not typical for a fighter Captain and an enlisted but hey.. she's not exactly in uniform either.

Weiss looks at the hand a moment.. then takes it in his own. His fingers are long, almost a pianists fingers, but heavily calloused. "Zigzag." he says, though the german accent stretches it out somewhat to Zeegzahg. "And not to vorry. I do not rush things.. in that vhat is rushing for some is leisurely pace for me." he winks. "So ja.. Gimme a few days of looking around and I vill see chat I come up vith for the signaller and ze tanks."

"Needles." Its her callsign. She pronounces it like 'Needuhls.' Her own hands are rough, but nearly so as his. She drops it after a firm grip. "You are a gift to the Navy, Zigzag. Thank you. And think about what you want for Christmas, da? I will leave you something under a Stiletto." She gives him a grin and moves off towards the hatchway.

Weiss snorts. "vat I vant for christmas is probably something that is on Santa's black list." he calls out, then grins some more. he shakes his head and limps over to a bench where he sits and pulls up the pantleg to loosen the metal legbrace. "Not bad for a pilot." he mumbles to himself.

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