[b]HSV Resource[/b]
Lieutenant Kelvin, the watch officer, relayed the message to her captain - her words echoing across the compact AIC buried in the depths of the command tower at the rear of the huge ship. Several of the watch crew sniggered, though whether it was at or with the captain's unprofessional attitude and word choice was unclear. Rolling his eyes, Captain Lee took a second to wander his gaze over the offenders, who buried themselves quickly into their consoles and suddenly looked very busy.

"Officer of the Watch, transmit our ID codes to the flag and report our status and disposition. Inform them Resource Actual is available if they wish to speak to me directly. XO, I want a secure channel to The Vulture's Claw. Request from them any and all data they feel may be relevant to conducting swift and effective repairs. If they refuse to provide, then back down, but Ancestors know why they wouldn't want fixing if there's a fight." Picking up the comm phone, he switched to a secure, direct channel with the Trapper. "Trapper Bridge, this is Resource Actual. I acknowledge Trapper Actual's last, tell him his apology is accepted, as long as he keeps his rust-bucket in one piece when we're out of combat then the Resource will be happy to put it together in combat. Resource Actual out."

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On the Engineering Bridge, located near the top of the command tower with an overview over the repair dock was Commander Hutchinson, the Chief Engineer aboard the Resource. His prematurely grey hair was testament to the rigours of his job, and the data streaming to the command table in front of him wasn't likely to put any colour back into it. The display cycled up with active scan details, updating in real-time as the gravity waves pulsed back into the sensor receptors. Luckily, the distances involved were negligible, so scanning and communication were near-instantaneous. Cross-checking the results with the files they received, "Harry" the AI highlighted any discrepancies that may indicate any damage or maintenance work required. As expected, there were very few flags raised at this stage of the mission, and the few discrepancies found were well within tolerances for void-worthy craft of their class. There were, however, strange readings coming from The Vulture's Claw, as the AI struggled to identify and catalogue components  for future reference. Idly, Hutchinson dismissed the task queue, the skipper had been clear that any information they got on the prototype ship had to be given voluntarily. Something about grave consequences or whatever, above the Commander's pay grade anyway.

Well, he thought, lighting up a smoke, the band's all together. Let's see how well they play.