The Extranet is For..., Attn: Wes

[Stroud Darling]

En route to an information hub literally in the middle of nowhere, the Knight Errant was alive with her usual activity. Without the threat of a definite fight upcoming, the crew was relaxed, but efficient, everyone’s morale high and chatter exchanged as the massive ship hurtled through hyperspace. Frankly, the ship was overqualified for the task at hand, but she wasn’t an illogical choice. Provided they did run into unexpected trouble, she was the ship in the fleet that was most likely going to hold her own. And since she was traveling alone, that independence was key.

There was probably more to his and his ship’s assignment here, though, Stroud acknowledged as he traversed the hallway towards the communication room where Loran had taken over and put things together for his own purposes. It was a personal thing, really. Stroud wasn’t complaining, of course, not really. He liked the Director... he just preferred to not spend much time around the man. Awkward as he felt around most anyone, Loran was simply ten times worse.

Still, he would have never said no to a request from the man, especially not a professional one like this. If Wes wanted his help on this information tapping escapade, he’d do it, especially since Aella had given the green light. Much as he wasn’t an Intel man, the Fleet Admiral did understand the point of gathering these sorts of things. Intercepting Confederate information from this recently discovered hub in the middle of Anoat sector space could prove useful. It could also not, but they had to make sure. The temptation was too strong for an information gathering man like Loran to say no to.

Gawain keeping pace behind him, the strange pair of spukamas and Admiral entered Loran’s temporary workspace. Stroud hesitated only a moment about it. Much as he tended to defer to Loran--as he should!--this was his ship, and he had to keep his confidence about him.

“Director?” he inquired, not spotting the man immediately in between some of the machinery that had been hauled on board for this occasion. “Need anything?” He could have sent anyone down here to ask that, but wasn’t needed at the bridge, and since Wes was a friend he felt he owed the man some actual face time.

[Wes Loran]

The workspace was chaotic, wires and electronic equipment sitting on desks and tables of varying sizes, technicians working in Intelligence slaving over the various components. In the middle one could find Wes Loran, Director of Intelligence, currently having misplaced his uniform coat and his shirt cuffs singed from a recent blow out of the electronic components he was working on. His ever faithful tailring swayed dangerously on his shoulder, claws gripping the white uniform shirt as it crooned sadly at its master's misfortune.

Wes was in the process of rolling up his sleeves when Stroud Darling entered, the Director glancing up as he heard his formal title spoken in the Fleet Admiral's familiar voice. "Hey, Darling," he greeted, smirking as he indulged in the mandatory subtle tease of the Fleet Admiral's surname, his mouth forming 'Darling' as an affectionate term rather than the name it was.

“Need anything?”

His smirk evolved into a smile that was far less predatory as Stroud continued on to business. Wes knew the Fleet Admiral wasn't required to deal with Loran and his crew of boffins directly, having henchmen or whatever they were called readily available to do his bidding, but he appreciated the direct communication between the Director and the Fleet Admiral. Wes enjoyed facing the person he was dealing with, not their minions, preferred it even. It was clear Stroud was aware of this, Wes appreciated it.

He considered the Fleet Admiral's question, before shaking his head gently, causing March to flutter his wings in order to maintain balance at the sudden motion, claws digging into Wes' shirt as well as the skin of his shoulder. The Director winced, but didn't chastise the creature.

"We're just setting up, it looks like we have everything, but if anything turns up I'll give you a shout." Wes turned his attention towards one of the technicians when a loud crackle erupted, followed by smoke. "We're working on it," he muttered ruefully, turning back to the Fleet Admiral. Their equipment wasn't as good as he'd like it to be, but they had the best technicians on the job.

He shrugged, March swayed again. "We'll be ready for when we arrive, which is what matters." The Director, now sufficiently distracted from what he was doing, leaned on the box of electronics in front of him, regarding Stroud keenly.

"So, I heard about Orion." The Director wore a sly smile.

The technicians around them looked up briefly, before surreptitiously going back to their work.

[Stroud Darling]

"Hey, Darling."

That drew, as it always did, a frown out of the man being addressed, his continual embarrassment clear of his surname being so abused. Not that he hadn’t expected the address. But that didn’t make taking it any easier. This was half the reason he liked to skirt the edge of Loran’s notice.

Finally catching sight of the man in all his chaotic glory as he rolled up singed cuffs, Stroud resisted the need to sigh and retreat, instead pressing forward with what he’d come down here for. Gawain went to sniff the ankles of each of the technicians to see if he trust them on his ship.

"We're just setting up, it looks like we have everything, but if anything turns up I'll give you a shout. We're working on it."

Grimacing at the shorting equipment, the Fleet Admiral hoped that Loran was sure they were alright for good reason. He hoped it wasn’t just the Director being optimistic. The equipment looked cobbled together at best. Unfortunately, it seemed the Alliance in general was all too often that way. They were getting better in recent years, but that didn’t change the facts. They just didn’t have the funding an actual government did. Even their most open benefactors could only do so much without ending up caught.

"We'll be ready for when we arrive, which is what matters."

“I certainly hope so,” he told the man, more for conversation’s sake than through any actual lasting concern. If Loran said it was going to happen, it simply was, or at least that was the case in Stroud’s experience. “I’d hate to go all the way out there simply to find your equipment wasn’t going to pull its weight. The Grand Admiral doesn’t like wasting resources.” Aella didn’t like to waste anything, actually, but they both knew that, Loran even better than Stroud himself.

"So, I heard about Orion."

Taken off guard by the comment and keenly aware that they weren’t alone, Stroud cleared his throat uneasily. “Did you now?” he asked, suddenly hoping that Loran wouldn’t take an actual interest in the subject but knowing he could do little to deter the man’s curiosity. The fact that Loran even knew about him and the Mandalorian was disturbing, though not surprising. Somehow Loran knew everything, or it seemed that way.

He didn’t care much for that sly smile Loran wore and his gaze moved away from the older man, spotting instead his feline companion as Gawain stalked up behind Loran, giving March a dirty look for simply existing in his territory.