Three days of constant manning of the bridge in shifts, and they had finally slipped out of the Fringe regions and back into Federation controlled space. Ship board had returned to a steady, normal operation. Sil was listening with interest and the small Andorran was explaining her detailed report to their Captain. And the new Dilithium chamber will grant higher containment security and a much more controlled mix balance." She leaned forward, indicating to the increased numbers on her report. "With an increased sustainable power output of forty seven percent." "Nearly double?" Navarre grinned as he glanced around at her. "And you are certain of these numbers?" "I am Andorran." She stated with insult in her voice. "I calculated the numbers many times to insure correct validity." Navarre and Sill both chuckled at once, she then relaxed again, seeing the humor in her Captains teasing. "Pink skins and their jokes." She rolled her eyes. "We're a freighter, Blue." Navarre smiled warmly. "Our funding is derived from our contracts. These upgrades are rather expensive. Such an overhaul of ships systems would take time." "I figured that out too." She nodded knowingly. "As noted in the secondary statement. I could do the work in stages between contracts; thus spreading the cost and materials needs out over time." "She's determined." Sill laughed as he glanced back to Navarre. "I think it would work. Increased power means larger load capacity as well. More profit in a single run." "You too, Huh?" Navarre sighed softly. "It would give us an advantage over our competition and build a bigger reputation, which would mean more contracts." And increased drive capacity means faster run times, Captain. Thus, more contracts." She added quickly. "I've been ganged up on here." Navarre stared at the two reports for a moment. "We'll put a few more contracts in our account, and then go over this again; build some funding to start and......." He was then cut off by a high pitched chirping from the proximity sensors. "Vessel ahead." Sill ran a rapid scan from his console. "Five minutes to visual range. thirty minutes to contact. Target appears to be stationary." "Odd." Navarre laid the clipboard down and focused on the main viewer and his own console. "Okay." He felt a tingling rush in his veins; excitement for an encounter. Something he had acquired having been raised by a Klingon warrior.