A damn fool wrote: ↑Wed Feb 05, 2020 3:52 pmAnd the nice thing about passively receiving she thought to herself, is that it’s real hard to catch you at.
Much later, Vaya would cold-bloodedly dissect the mistake and decide that it wasn’t really her fault. She had no experience with military encryption, but plenty with computer-aided translation of ancient and incompletely understood languages. A military-grade slicer with military-grade equipment probably would never have been noticed -- that’s how listening worked. It was only the freakest of chances, she reasoned, that something in the ship’s hardware had responded to her amateur efforts by emitting something detectable to a professionally paranoid special forces type like Poule.Stupid sexy instant karma wrote: ↑Wed Feb 05, 2020 5:41 pmCommander Poule cut in, “Inquisitor this line is compromised, traced the source to the ship, clearing this line.”
She was thrown back in her acceleration couch as Sinnya’s reflexes, thankfully, outmatched hers. Fully formed cogent thoughts in her brain became vaguely coherent fragments as she scrambled for her straps. “Jamming!” she slapped at her console. “The transponder! Shensor -- Shields! Sensors!” She shouted almost all of it after Sinnya had already gotten them to safety.
Please don’t ID the ship please don’t ID the ship please don’t ID the ship… she slapped at the parts of the panel that would jam sensors and communications. On a military ship, there were specific buttons for such things. Civilian ships only had the capability because the receivers and transmitters could do it as an inevitable part of their function, and you kind of had to figure out how to exceed their intended use on your own.
After white-knuckling the the edge of the console for about a minute longer than necessary, Vaya switched the jamming off and went back to monitoring comms, breathing a sigh of relief at the lack of frantic, hunt-coordination-style traffic on Imperial channels.
“Gough-” she choked. Her mouth was panic-dry and felt crusty. She cleared her throat and reached for her canteen, realized that while it was still attached to her her unsecured crash pack had bounced off the ceiling and into the hallway outside the cockpit. Drank. “Good flying, Sinnya.” Recovering slightly, she smiled at her. “Not bad for someone who hadn’t been inside a real starship as of last month.” She looked around again, post-adrenaline shakes localizing to quivering antennapalps. “Everyone else… good?”