Farvis opened his eyes, hearing the pilot say something.  He'd been meditating since they left for the Lone Star, hoping to calm himself and clear his head for the mission.  Unfortunately, the fact that the only way he was getting out of prison was to help uncover the mystery on the deathtrap they were approaching prevented him from fulling calming down.

He looked over to the woman sitting beside him.  Marga had done some work for him before, acquiring one thousand Antharan eggs for him to hatch and even bringing him a prototype gene assembler that he couldn't get access to otherwise.  "Just think, that hunk of junk could barely be sold for scrap if it wasn't famous, but because it is, anyone who got their hands own it could make a fortune selling it to the right people."  It would sound like idle conversation to most people, but she was a thief, and he knew she'd get the message.  He was in this for the long game.  If the Law wanted to make him a criminal, then he'd be one, but he'd complete his life's work one way or the other.

He walked up to the pilot.  "I doubt this has anything as advanced as a teleporter on it.  Can this thing broadcast power?"  he asked.  Some rescue ships had microwave transmitters that could send up to a few hundred kilowatts a few kilometers away to provide emergency power to derelicts.  "I could probably stay conscious for ninety, maybe a hundred seconds with this suit on in space.  If you could get me over there, I could attach the receiver and power the docking bay door."