The conduits aren't exactly roomy, and if it were anyone else but Soul crawling in front of her with his rear near her face, Maka would be far more uncomfortable, but she finds she doesn't mind his rear so much. It's not like she hasn't eyed it before, nicely shaped as it is. There are worse things than crawling a foot behind it, shadowed as it is in the faint luminescence of the conduit system.

Her head really should be elsewhere, her mind on other things, but this is tedious. They're in a hurry, but there's no hurrying while crawling through such confined quarters.

"Emergency panel's up at the next cross section," Soul speaks back over his shoulder. "Emergency system should tell us what's up. It's meant to retain power unless the ship is completely dead, and it runs independently of the main system. You know how Starfleet is with redundancy, thank fuck."

"Accessing the emergency system would be a start," Maka says, trying to keep her voice even. She knows all about the emergency access panel, which is why she had asked about it, knows what it does and how it works since emergency systems were included in her tactical training. Soul couldn't possibly know that, though, and he sometimes rattles off techno facts when he's nervous. They're both very, very nervous.

They soon come to a small, circular room, slightly taller, slightly wider, with an access panel lit on one of the four curved walls between conduit openings.

"We're here," Soul offers as they crawl to a stop in the room and he sits up straight because he actually can.

"Brilliant deduction, Watson." He makes an indignant face at her quip, but Maka ignores him in favor of crawling to the panel. She has to give her clearance to gain access-many people shipboard wouldn't be able to-and soon she has some basics.

"The main computer is down completely," she relays as she's able to find what she needs. It's ingrained at this point to share status reports with her team. In this case, as it had often been at the Academy, that means him. "Only life support systems are operational, and we're still in the neutral zone like I thought." She scans further, making several inquiries because this situation reminds her of a case they studied in training. If she can verify, she'll have a good idea of what's happening. "Not sure why communications are down. They're designed to run independently, and there's nothing in backups."

"Any idea how the main computer got fried?" Soul asks, and the way he's pressed to her back to read over her shoulder, breath hot on her neck, it's distracting.

"It's a guess," Maka says as she finds what she's been looking for, main computer log data up until the shutdown. "I mean, it's been decades since something like this happened, but this has the signature of an Arachnophobia attack."

"Arachnophobia?" The wheels are visibly turning in his head as she crawls to one side and turns to face him. "Like the virus that led to the hijacking of the Antilles back in the day?"

"The very same. But the virus was named for the group. They scattered back then, but intelligence has been concerned about a recent resurgence, and if it really is them-we don't have much time. We need to get to core system. I think-I mean, if it is a virus, I might be able to bypass it with a manual boot to backup systems. We covered cyber-counterterrorism in training. Never thought I'd need it, though."

In truth, Maka has a lot of experience with viruses. She was a hell of a hacker in her teenage years, the days when she was angry at Starfleet, blaming them for her parents' disaster of a marriage, the years when her form of rebellion had included hacking their systems, the years before she decided maybe she really did want to be like her Mama.

"Yeah," Soul answers after checking the data himself, looking thoughtful as he scratches the back of his neck. "Hasn't been a virus that could get through AI in decades. Fuck."

"You can get me to the core?"

He nods. "Yeah, we can get there with a lot more crawling."

"How long?"

The deep breath he exhales is telling. "I mean, how fast can you crawl? Thirty minutes probably. Maybe."

"Then we're wasting time, let's go."

Soul takes one of the tunnels and they're crawling again, shuffling along as fast as they can manage. It's a lot of silence and time to worry, so Maka breaks it, noting, "Someone else must have come to the same conclusion and be working on the problem, too, so hopefully, we won't be needed."

"Hopefully," Soul echoes. Because if they are needed, they very well may be too little too late.

The reality that no one knows the conduit system like Soul, that likely no one else shipboard could navigate it like this does not escape her. Even with others coming to the same conclusion, she and Soul might be the only real hope, but dwelling on that won't help, so she doesn't.

There's no time to dwell in any case as they are suddenly jostled. Once. Twice. Something is happening, probably an attack. They're running out of time.

They can't go any faster, not really, so they push ahead, desperate. "This is bad," Maka murmurs when they are rocked again.

"No shit," Soul agrees, though it's not malicious, just vented frustration.

"Are we-"

"Almost there? Getting close. Soon, just-" He lets out a breath and doesn't continue. They're both clearly thinking the same thoughts, that it might not matter, and voicing them seems tantamount to creating a self-fulfilling prophecy.

They startle again soon after, but this time it isn't the ship moving but the loud chirp of a communicator. A communicator that shouldn't even be working. It's coming from Soul, not her, and he taps his chest after a moment's hesitation before he continues crawling. "Ensign Evans," he announces.

There's a pause, and then a curt, "Evans, good."

"Who is this? I thought the com was down." Soul sounds cautious because it's always possible someone has hijacked the system, but Maka knows this voice. Ensign Ox Ford. As much as she might have cringed at hearing him drone on in the past in smug superiority, she could almost hug him now. The man is capable, and as Junior Science Officer, he might actually know something.

"This is Ensign Ford. I got the com system working through the emergency system, though I'm not sure what happened there. Status report?"

Soul breathes a relieved sigh at that. Maka knows he hasn't had as much experience with Ox as she has, but he's at least met the man. "We're in the conduit system. Making for the main computer core. Got a plan."

"We?"

"Ensign Albarn is with me," he explains.

"Good. Very good." There's something like hope in his voice. "I take it you're planning a manual reboot, Albarn?"

"Yes," she speaks up. "This looks like Arachnophobia, so it might be our only shot."

"That's the conclusion Rung came to as well. ETA?"

"Five minutes, tops," Soul cuts in.

"Good, we might just have a shot."

"We felt the impact," Maka adds anxiously. She needs all the information to know how to proceed. "Is the ship under attack?"

"Shot at by a small freighter, if the ES is accurate, but there doesn't seem to be real damage. The scattered reports of hostiles is the real trouble. I think we've been boarded."

"Shit," Soul breathes.

"Should we-" Maka begins, but Ox doesn't let her finish.

"Just get to the core-I'm working with Rung on coordinating some forces against the hostiles. Ford out."

In any other situation, she'd be fuming, but Ox is right-the core is the priority. But Maka is a Tactical Officer, and the idea people might be injured or worse when she could be helping doesn't sit well at all.

She reminds herself to keep her eyes on the prize. If this works, fixing the main computer and getting systems back online will also help people. They have to do this. The rest can come after.

"We'll be in time," she affirms. Maka knows she's reassuring herself more than anything.

"Yeah," Soul agrees from ahead. "We have to be."

It's only a few minutes later when he stops at a hatch and holds down the lever to open it. "This is us," he offers redundantly. "I'd say ladies first, but there really isn't room." A second later, he's dropping down into an open space that is bright with emergency lighting.

She hears cursing a second later and looks through the opening. His white hair is like a halo in the sudden illumination as Soul sits on his ass where he's fallen, and Maka can't help the giggle that escapes her. "You are such a klutz," she says before dropping down, keeping her feet in a catlike display of nimbleness as she crouches beside him.

"Just remember, you need me to get back out," he grouses.

Her only response is more laughter and a headshake, because the tension is so thick that Maka is desperate to ease it. She stands and makes her way to the system control panel, spotting the lever she needs.

Stepping behind her, Soul gestures to it. "It's that one." She nods because she knows, but Soul is the techie and he's trying to be helpful.

It's almost absurd that it all comes down the the pull of a lever, but the manual backup was designed to be simple. Maka pulls.

Having no idea what to expect, she waits, breath bated. Maka has never done this, only knows how to operate the core system as a formality of her training. The result isn't instantaneous. There's no noise, no sudden bootup, no switch to the main lights.

"Shit, it didn't work?" Soul echoes her thoughts.

She's ready to despair when the panel flares to life, followed by the main lights. It worked. It really worked!

Maka squeals her excitement as she turns to Soul. He's standing by her side, just as he had through most of their Academy days, and she can't help it, she flings her arms around him and kisses him. Somehow, they did it. They did it, together!

The thought that she's overstepped her bounds in her excitement creeps to the front of her thoughts for a moment before she realizes he's kissing her back. Enthusiastically. So enthusiastically. It's nice. It's perfect. His hands are on her hips, drawing her closer, and her hands have found his hair, so soft, and Maka just wants to stay in this moment.

But she can't. She can't. There's a loud beep and she knows she has seconds.

The reboot has the brought the main systems back up, but it hasn't bypassed the virus automatically like it should have.

Lunging forward, ignoring Soul's protests and questions, her fingers start flying on the panel.

"Do you need me to-" he puts a hand on her shoulder as Maka works. Normally, he's the one who handles this type of thing, but he's not trained to handle cyber terrorism, not like she is, so she shakes off his hand, shakes her head.

The virus is attacking again and she has to isolate it, has to put it in quarantine so it can be deleted. It's clearly embedded so it's an inside job, has to be, and if it were any anyone else standing here, this might be futile, but Maka is good with programming, always had been.

Who knew teenage rebellion would yield such fruit? It's intense. The programming on the virus mimics AI; it's adaptable. The virus keeps trying to get around the blocks she's putting up, firewall after firewall, but eventually, Maka manages to isolate the thing, trapping it completely in a remote corner of the system. She's quarantined it in a part of the system full of quintessential nonessentials, a segment of the database on Starfleet history, so she deletes the whole thing and takes satisfaction as the virus goes with it.

It's over. They've won. With a whoop of triumph, Maka turns to Soul again. She's beaming because she's just beaten the Arachnophobia virus, and she's with Soul, and systems are back up, and they had actually kissed.

The urge to kiss him again as he beams back at her is strong, but she realizes she shouldn't, she can't. Getting caught up, not keeping her attention on the system at a crucial moment, it might have cost them everything. Maka has to stay focused. There are possible intruders on the ship and they can help. She's a Tactical Officer; it's her duty to help.

Kissing can wait.

"We should-go," she says, and Maka knows she's red, feels the heat of her flush because his gaze is fire and they've crossed a line and she's pretty sure they both want to cross it again, but now is not the time.

"Yeah," Soul says, face flashing disappointment. "No wait." He shakes his head. "Shouldn't we stay, in case the system goes down again?"

"It won't because I deleted the virus and we can't. Invaders, remember? They need our help. Can you get us to weapons?"

His nod is sharp, eyes regaining focus. "Yeah, there's a cache nearby. We take the conduit, avoid hostiles."

"Perfect. Let me just give Ford a status report, then we'll go."

Tapping her com, Maka voices, "Ensign Ford." There's a chirp confirming the command, but no response. "Ensign Ford," she repeats. The dead air tells her that it's not working. Either there's something wrong with Ford, or someone has disabled the com again.

"Crap, com's down again. We should get the weapons and make our way to the bridge, tell command what we know assuming they're holding position. We can help on the way."

"Yeah, okay, let's-do that." Soul looks nervous and she gets it because she is too, but they have jobs to do, people to help. So they go.

The fact that they're about to attempt to fight off an incursion doesn't stop Maka from ogling his rear as he climbs back into the conduit. Hell, all the more reason if they're about to put their lives on the line. She'd like to touch it, and if that kiss was anything to go by, she might even get the chance sometime soon. She hopes she does.

Not long after, they are dropping through a conduit access point again, this time into a small storage room. It's lined with weapons, hand phasers along with the larger, more powerful rifles, stun grenades, and even a few hand to hand weapons. Maka takes a hand phaser, holstering a second, and straps a rifle over her shoulder, gathering several stun grenades and a few pairs of plasma cuffs for good measure. She finishes with a pair of plasma knives, just in case, before turning to Soul. He's got a phaser in hand along with a rifle, and a plasma sword is on his belt. She eyes that one skeptically.

"What? My parents had me in fencing lessons most of my childhood, I can use it. You'd still kick my ass, but hey." A roguish grin spreads across is his face as he adds, "And anyway, you're with me. You're the ass kicker. I'm just the eye-candy."

Her laugh is only partially because it's true - Soul is nothing special in a fight - and partially because she's trying to fight down the nervous twinge mounting in her innards. Maka's never been in real combat, not like this, not when they could really die, and she can't help her fear. What if she can't protect them, can't protect Soul?

Her laughter dies on her lips as she moves to the door, squaring her shoulders. "Ready?"

"No," he quips, voice flat, "but that's never stopped you before."

"Let's go," she says, and the smile they exchange is fond and full of promise. They could die and they both know it, but they also have something new to live for: each other.

It isn't much of a fight.

As they roam the halls, they mostly find people who belong there. They have to stop to reassure and answer questions more than once, but there's no sign of invaders. A few of those they speak with have seen them, though, roaming in pairs or small groups.

Together, they continue to make their way to the bridge. Everyone they've encountered is safe so far, though there are rumors of injured. With the com system down again, the bridge can't put out an all call, so getting there is the only way to find out what's going on.

They finally encounter their first hostiles not long after. Maka hears loud laughter-so out of place-around a corner, and pulls Soul to a stop to listen.

"Did you see their faces, Mr. Noah? Priceless. Priceless."

"I've told you it's Lieutenant Noah, and yes, I saw their faces, and they saw you. Systems are back up. We've lost, fool."

The voices aren't familiar, Maka doesn't know them, though the name Lieutenant Noah she recognizes. The Chief Science Officer. She never would have suspected this went so high. But maybe-maybe she's assuming too much. She needs more. Soul grabs her hand, face grim as he squeezes, then puts a finger to his lips. He must agree, must also want to hear more.

"But I thought-" the first voice says in a high pitched whine. "I mean, they should be retrieving us, right? We were promised."

"The promises of the spider queen mean nothing, Crewman Gopher, absolutely nothing. How long will it take them to get the com back up?"

"I-I don't know-"

"Then we best hurry to a shuttlecraft because we are running out of time."

Maka has heard enough. It is an inside job. Glancing to Soul with a finger to her lips, she waits for his nod before pressing the timer of a stun grenade. She holds it-3, 2, 1-then pops out to throw it towards the traitors, jumping back to avoid the blast.

When she moves back out, they're on the ground, out cold, just as they should be.

"Help me cuff them, will you?" She turns to Soul, holding out a pair of plasma cuffs.

"Er, yeah, of course." He looks dazed. "I just-can't believe it," he adds as he bends down to cuff the shorter one. Maka has seen the man around in the past few days, knows he's an enlisted com tech. It only reinforces what she's just overheard, confirms he must be responsible for that particular sabotage.

Crouching down herself, she feels sick as she cuffs the Chief Science Officer. Treason. It's treason, aboard the new flagship, and it's Arachnophobia.

They have to get to the bridge.

With the traitors in plasma cuffs, she grabs Soul's hand and pulls, running, and five minutes and a turbolift ride later, they're there, breathless and hoping it's command they see and not invaders when the lift doors open in response to Maka's clearance as a bridge officer. Hell, hoping there aren't more traitors in their midst.

The first person she spots is her papa, flaming mop of red unmistakable, who shrieks her name. Before he can run and scoop her up, she growls, "Stop," and for once, by some minor miracle, he listens and keeps his place, relief and fondness writ large on his face.

She gets it. Maka is glad he's okay, too.

Her papa is standing next to Admiral Mortimer, recognizable for his dark hair streaked white with age, so she walks that way and stops short before announcing herself.

"Admiral Mortimer, Sir. Ensign Albarn, Junior Tactical Officer. I have a report."

"Ah, Miss Albarn! It's been too long!" he greets cheerfully, as if they were at tea and not on red alert, their ship compromised. Maka has become familiar with him, having met him many times as a friend of Kid at the Academy, so she tries to remind herself that his style is to put people at ease so she doesn't scream. She breathes a sigh of relief as he adds, voice more serious, "Please proceed."

"Yes, Admiral," she says smartly. "Ensign Evans and I were able to get to the core system through the conduits and neutralize the threat. It was Arachnophobia, Sir. A viral attack."

"Hmmm," the Admiral offers unhelpfully. "Yes, we had hoped to find you, Ensign Evans," he adds as he turns his eyes to Soul. "Lieutenant Commander Azusa was hoping you could get to the core through the conduits, but our efforts proved unsuccessful. I'm glad you two were able to act on your own. Resourceful, just like your mother, Maka, I might have known!" His voice is so cheerful by the end of his little speech it's practically a sing song.

"There's more," Maka says into his pause, because he needs to know about the traitors.

"Oh?" Admiral Mortimer's head tilts thoughtfully.

"On our way here, we came across-traitors, sir. Crewman Gopher and Lieutenant Noah are on Deck 54B, stunned and in plasma cuffs. We came across them talking about having disabled the com and taking a pod to escape, so I-made the call to incapacitate them, Admiral."

"I-see." He taps his chin. "That is troubling. Well, I'll make sure they're picked up and brought to holding until we can sort this out. Mr. Barrett?" He looks to the Chief of Security, who nods and leaves through the lift. "Until then, you two should stay here until the com is back up. You've had quite the excursion!"

"Yes-sir," Maka says, and if her voice is hesitant, if she exchanges an odd look with Soul, well, she has never really quite understood Kid's dad.

"Now, Captain Albarn, perhaps you could go check on the status of the com?"

Maka can tell her father's plan had been to tackle her when his face falls. "Yes, sir," he sighs out and makes his way to the lift, casting a doleful glance her way when the doors shut behind him.

For her part, she tries to find an out-of-the-way corner of the large bridge but is mercifully commandeered by Lieutenant Commander Azusa, who asks for a more detailed status report Maka is all too happy to give, Soul in tow.

Ten minutes later, barely finished offering Azusa the details, the com is back up. The Admiral calls them over again with a wide smile.

"Ensigns Ford and Rung corroborate your involvement in repairing the core," he announces. "Good work! I see commendations in your future, medal of valor, I'll be making the recommendation as soon as this all settles. And don't be surprised if a rank change is also forthcoming," he adds with a wink of one oddly golden eye. "Well, then, off with you! Your evening duties have been reassigned-I'll expect you both in my ready room at oh eight hundred tomorrow for an extensive debriefing, so get some rest, you've earned it!"

Knowing a dismissal when she hears one, Maka tugs a stunned looking Soul to the turbolift, squeezing his hand as the doors shut behind them.

"Deck 42," she says, and the lift begins to move.

She's surprised when Soul cuts in with, "full stop."

"What?" She moves to face him; it's her turn to be stunned. He takes her other hand, and the look in his red, red eyes-she could melt.

"It's just-I wanted to talk to you. Because-you kissed me." His face is red, but the set of his mouth is determined.

"I kissed you," she echoes.

"And I think I need to know what that means."

Moving closer, eyes still on his, Maka swallows. She'd kissed him because she's wanted to kiss him for a long time now, and he'd kissed her back, but she doesn't have words. Her smile is one of nervous anticipation as she leans in further, breath mingling, foreheads close, as he leans down to keep her gaze and closes the gap between them.

This kiss is slower, more planned, more methodical. Her eyes close as she tries to take in the feel of it, his lips moving against hers, soft and warm, his hands at her waist drawing her closer as before. Her hands stay on his shoulders, and it's nice, it's so nice.

And then Maka feels his tongue and her brain short circuits, her hands flying to tangle in his hair for the second time that day as she slides her own tongue deliciously against his.

This is kissing. This is kissing.

She's tried it before a few times in her high school days just to see and had never been impressed, but this is different because it's Soul.

Kissing Soul is everything. But it's also too much, she can't breathe, so she pulls back and she's smiling and he's smiling and she says, "Does that help?"

His smile widens. "I think? Maybe? I dunno. Might have to try some more. I'm pretty thick headed."

They do. Again, and then again. Probably, someone is getting pretty annoyed waiting for the lift.

They break apart and Maka breathes out, "We should start the lift before they send a rescue squad."

"Yeaaaaah," he says, face reddening again. "Probably should. But. Uh. I still think we should practice that more. Just so we're clear."

"We're a good team," Maka agrees. "We should definitely-keep practicing. Maybe make our partnership more official. If-if you'd like."

Soul pulls her closer, eyes searching. "I'd like." His gaze is intense. "Fuck, would I like."

"My quarters, then?" Her stomach is fluttering, her pulse is racing, she's burning.

"Resume," he commands the lift as he nods.

As the lift moves and the doors finally open, they leave hand in hand, ready to embark on yet another new leg of their life. Together.