Jacque had remained stone faced as he and the crew docked and were boarded for inspection. He'd been through this process more times than he cared to count, and as such knew how exactly to act in response. The first part of the trick was remain calm without appearing overly relaxed, as that could be seen as either overcompensation for anxiety or outright cockiness, something that could very well lead to the inspection officers doing a more thorough search to make Jacque sweat, which of course increased the odds of something being found.
The second part was a bit more tricky; Despite remaining calm Jacque also had to give off an air of submission without appearing guilty. This was done with curt and polite responses, avoidance of prolonged eye contact, a humble offering (in this case, it was a cup of Caf for the inspectors that was rather simply refused or ignored) and placating behaviors such as slumping to appear smaller, as well as less threatening, than he actually was. This served to give the inspectors a feeling of superiority, to make them feel as thought they had all of the control that they desired.

It was a balancing act of sorts, one that Jacque had mastered to the point of it being second nature. For a brief moment the Siparian human casted a glance towards the others that made up the Milano's crew. He once more found himself hoping silently that the others didn't do or say anything that might cast suspicion on him, themselves as well, but mostly him. Jail was not a place that he wished to revisit so long as there were other options available.

A few minutes had passed - in that time frame their targeted ship had been forced to dock - before an acknowledging response returned over the comms.

“Enforcer One, your codes check out, however under Protocol 118-AF-03, we are required to commence with the inspection of the Milano, and once completed, they will be released to you with no further involvement on our part.”

“Eh...copy that Control. I can see you’ve already made that decision. About how long for this ‘inspection’?”

The Agent’s tone was anything was patient at this point, but he knew there was no other way to expedite the process. He checked the chrono readout and it appeared more time had passed than he thought, which already put him further behind his intended schedule.

“It may be only a few minutes, however, we will advise once the process is completed.”

“Understood.”

Gavon kept his composure, regardless of the fact the he wanted to strangle the representative on the other end. But he knew this was typical protocol, and a smart choice on their part, considering anything outside of that would most likely cause suspicion among the crew of smugglers.

He stepped away from the communication console and took a seat at the helm next to E-V, who was busily recalibrating new tracking modules and running a routine systems check, focused primarily on the hyperdrive to ensure a quick jump to lightspeed when the time presented itself.

“So now we wait for the inspection.” The Agent mumbled to himself, provoking a response from E-V’s rotors as its head turned to face him, but immediately returned to the console holoscreen.

Gavon tried to hide a grin.

“Sorry E-V, I was talking to myself again...”

While Jacque had all kinds of fancy tricks and acting methods up his sleeve, Krus simply stayed out of the inspection crew's way and avoided contact as well as he could. Not that he couldn't lie to their faces, no. In fact lying was the Neimoidian's speciality. He just knew that anything affiliated with First Order meant trouble. And trouble is bad for your health, no?

"Sir, no sir" the droid replied "the compartment is filled juzzt with standardd Machinery, Sir" Fixer was trying to be polite and invisible. Howewer, as he had anticipated, the FO crew hadn't seen a B1 not even in propaganda commercials. So they looked at him like some sort of bug. Green and methallic. The droid opened the compartment and allowed the imperial to find out themselves that what he just said was true: there were nothing illegal in that space. It had harboured no un-authorized product for about two whole days, in fact. A small record.

The officials then ordered him to show them the foodstock store-box. "Roger-Roger" He answered and, opressing an old and inner urge to bring his gun and shot the two soldiers down for good, he obligued. "We have cocoa replacements and that new blue milk that is in fashion now... but i've checked it twice and I'm pretty sure it's all legal in all but one or two independent systems" he said as a form of servilness. "And please, avoid the right side of ze corridor: wires fall from time to time, and are high voltage. I keep trying to fix it but it somehow resists. I Need fresh parts from koenysar, at least a new hatchet's door... till we can buy a new one, everything I do to solve it is only temporal"

Of course, Fixer's intent was to introduce into the human's brains the idea that illegal goods smugglers would certainly have the money to make such a small raparation.

Of course, they could be too dumb to even notice.

As the inspection went on Tr’an Dasheer, the inspection officer, let his gaze pass over the crew multiple times, his eyes lasting slightly longer on the Twi’lek Vika each time. He just formed his smug smile into something even more smug when he was the comm-indicator on his arm start blinking. He turned away with a wink for a second and murmured an ‘Understood Miss’ as he moved farther away from the crew.

In the Command room of the monitoring station the supervisor was still pacing around, thinking of a way to still get into the good graces of the Order. Where she saw a chance when the ship arrived carrying tracers, she was just hoping now that the ‘Enforcer’ with its clearance codes would report on the delay. She knew Tr’an would finish a small charade and end the investigation, but every moment took too long in her mind now.

Tr’an was just moving back to watch the Twi’lek when his comm started blinking again. He only had time for a sly wink at her as he again turned his back to walk past the corner again.

‘Yes? You what? I’ll get co-’

He passed the corner and his voice wasn’t audible anymore. In the Monitoring station the supervisor had stopped pacing and was listening intently to the report, a slight smile appearing. A quick glance towards the asteroid density level of the field ahead somewhat deadened her smile and prompted her to sneer quick commands.

‘Tell Dasheer to get their pilot into custody, and any other he thinks is able to fly, the field is at a low. Tell him to do it casually, we have reason to believe the crew isn’t fully aware. Get me more troopers in there to secure and search the craft!’

She thought a few moments longer as several of her officers where relaying her orders as she walked to Hulpa’s booth and leaned in.

‘Hulpa, guide the enforcer trough, tell him they will be free in a moment, having him stand in line for inspection might arouse suspicion with the crew, wouldn’t it?”

She gave a sly smile to Hulpa and straightened her back again, staring at the visual projection of the Milano in wait.

Tr’an Dasheer walked back around the corner after a few moments, glancing at the Xexto pilot without his usual smug smile. Instead his eyes had gone cold and with a brisk command both Stormtroopers raised their blaster carbines.

‘Marka Mussuka, pilot of the Milano. Would you walk with me for a quick interrogation, there are a couple of off wih the slaving program.’

Marka stared at the Chagrian confused, and started talking nervously.

‘That can’t be, all is-‘
‘Not here, might just be some interference from the field, but we just need a quick word on the station.’

Dasheer interrupted and moved his hand from the blaster carbine slung over his shoulder in a calm guiding gesture towards the docking tunnel. As the Xexto made his first few steps Dasheer’s gaze went to Vika.

‘Miss … Viik'ashak I have some questions for you to, back on the station. The rest of the crew can stay put, just a preliminary inquiry.’

Vika handled it better than the Xexto, swaying her hips and teasingly uttering a ‘sure officer’ as she walked along and put a reassuring hand on the Xexto pilot. She looked back before they turned the corner followed by one of the Stormtroopers, a small tug of her lip indicating she didn’t know what was going on either. Instantaneously followed by a mischievous wink that was meant to reassure, but never did...

Small footbeats reverberating through the Milano made the hunter stir. Muffled voices speaking to one another, ones he did not recognize, caused him to stand. It was his mission that made him kill. He clenched his armored fists and made an audible breath. Through his helmet, it sounded like some hellish engine revving to life. He grabbed his weapons, and made his way out of the cargo hold.

The footsteps were moving in single file, and they were heavy. Troopers of the First Order, he noted as he caught a glimpse of them passing by him within one of the side rooms. He waited until the last hussled by, before grabbing him roughly and snapping his neck, dragging the body into the room and closing the door. He inspected his gun. E-11 blasters were trustworthy and dangerous, but it was how they were wielded that mattered.

Sol'id Fist strode out into the hallway as the last three troopers were turning the corner. He sent his WESTAR-M5 to an automatic setting and opened fire, cutting through two of the troopers before he strode into the next room across the hall. He broke through the next door within the next hall, knocking another trooper over, stepping on him and cutting a hole in his chest with his rifle fire, and laid down suppressing fire to the 4 remaining in the hall. They fired back as they fled to cover, but it was wild and random. One shot burned his shoulder, but he remained undaunted. Another two fell, but there had to be more within the station than the two who had escaped.

It mattered little. He knew this ship, and they did not. He stepped into another room that led him into a small underhallway, and he traversed it with a crouch, patient and deadly. He ripped out of the floor, behind the two troopers. He gunned one down and knocked the other back with a heavy punch. The Mandalorian took a step up onto the floor, and then another, drawing his Vibro Axe. The Trooper screamed one last time before his life was ended, chest cleaved. Sol'id found a comm on the last dead Trooper, and knelt down to pick it up. He flipped it on, and after a few moments... he spoke.

"If that is all you have, I suggest giving up." was all Tr’an Dasheer heard.

Jacque's eyes narrowed by a small margin as two of his crewmates were asked to exit the ship for interrogation. This was an unexpected, not to mention unwelcome surprise. The twi'lek and xexto seemed to be willing to comply, but Jacque couldn't help but feel a small chill go down his spine. What if they said something to arouse suspicion? Hell, what if one of them outright squealed to try and get a lighter sentence? There was no guarantee that this would be the case, however Jacque knew well enough what a person was willing to do when desperation set in.

The human was given little more time to dwell on the matter as the sound of blaster fire and a scream echoed out from somewhere within the Milano. He reflexively reached for his right hip, only to remember that his blasters were currently locked in his quarters. The vibrodagger he kept tucked in his boot was still in place, however there was very little he could do with it against someone with range weaponry outside of flinging it and hoping he got a hit. Suffice to say, things where beginning to take a serious jog to the left.

"What the fuck was that?" Jacque unintentionally mused aloud as he looked to the stairs that lead to the lower deck. He shot a glance to the other crewmembers, then looked to the Chagrian inspection officer "What are your men doing down there?" he spat, all traces of the meek and mild facade now gone from him.

Blaster sounds. Screaming. Panic.

These were the thoughts that ran through Krus's head as he drew a pistol from a hidden pocket and ran to the nearest crew room. He was driven by basic instincts and did't care if the inspection crew had gotten a glimpse of the other illegal items stored under his coat. I'm too smart and rich to die! He swiftly locked the door and crouched behind a crate, terrified of what would happen next. Whatever tries to get in, I will shoot it.

Tr’ann Dasheer was hearing it too, the blasterfire, the screaming and with an annoyed look at Jacque’s question he started speaking into his arm communicator.

“Team, status re-“

He started uttering into the communicator of his arm when a reply was already voiced:

"If that is all you have, I suggest giving up."

Sheer astonishment showed on the Chagrians face as he saw Kruss make for a room and take cover. Tr’ann instinctively followed the Neimodian with his blaster carbine, but halted it on Jacques chest as the door behind Kruss shut.
“You. You are in on this, On your knees!”

He held his carbine in one hand, the strap holding up the barrel while his finger was on the trigger, his other hand went back to his mouth to speak:

“Dasheer to station, meeting resistance get those reinforcements running!”

He was already nervously pacing back in order to gain a position that would better cover his back. As Stormtrooper boots could be heard vaguely picking up pace in the boarding tunnel.

In the meanwhile the only 2 remaining inspectors where taking up position in the hallway near the cargo bay, comms had just gone cold from their colleagues there and they were nervously pointing their weapons in that general direction, taking cover behind a corner. Fixer had a perfect angle on it all from where he was standing.

“Throw your weapon down! We have the exit covered!”

The somewhat more certain one called down the hallway while the other had taken a crouching position. They got the same answer as their boss over the comm:

"If that is all you have, I suggest giving up."

Time seemed to be at a standstill as the only ally Gavon could now count on was patience. The comm crackled on once again, directing Enforcer One to move up past the Milano and standby for the completion of their inspection. Keeping tabs on the ship’s lifesigns became futile, as the Station’s jamming efforts kept away any further scanning attempts. E-V slowly maneuvered the ship toward the checkpoint marked on their navigation panel, until a sudden anomaly appeared across their sensor sweep. The Agent turned to the flashing console and noticed spikes in energy patterns coming from the smuggler’s ship, focused primarily on the interior…

“Well, that is no biological lifesign. Engine malfunctions, perhaps?” He raised a suspicious eyebrow, pressing a few buttons to fine tune the sweep. “E-V, hold position and continuing honing in on the energy bursts.”

Gavon slid over to the communication console and opened a channel to Flight Control once again. “Enforcer One to Control, there seems to be some energy distortion coming from the interior of the Milano, do you copy?”

He waited for as long as he could with no response, before continuing. “Control, do you copy? There-...”

A crackled reply came over the comms, their voice seemed a bit frantic and unsure. “Enforcer One, we copy, and the situation is being taken care of. S-stand by for further instructions...”

“Situation? What ‘situation’?” He cut in, looking back out through the front viewport toward the target ship still docked.

“Sir, it appears the station’s ion cannon is currently locked on the Milano.” The EV droid quickly interjected, as she continued monitoring the Milano’s status. “Also, several more energy signatures resembling blaster rifle discharges were detected coming from their interior”

“Dammit, apparently their ‘routine inspection’ is becoming anything but. As long as they are docked and targeted, that ship isn’t going anywhere.”

The Agent reopened a secure channel to Control, his voice stern and flat. “Control, we are picking up multiple blaster fire within their interior. I need a status report. Now!”

The comm crackled to life again, and silence hung for a few moments before the frantic voice started spouting off. “Their crew has been separated. Two of which were being brought onto the station for questioning. Then Troopers were suddenly being attacked on the ship. A handful have been killed or injured. We aren’t sure how many are in on this, but whatever the case, they are good and- ”

The channel cut off abruptly, only to return with another’s voice, which sounded tinny and slightly muffled.

“If that is all you have, I suggest giving up. ”

Agent TreVayne ended the channel communication, and stepped over to the holocommand console. “E-V, I need you to pull up the schematics of the Milano.” As he continued speaking, a glowing light-blue skeletal version of the target ship materialized on the holoprojector, slowly rotating. “I need to find the closest hatch to our side, that we can connect with.”

A few mere nanoseconds passed before the droid was able to pinpoint a hatch that was near the stern on the starboard side, which would land them at the cargo deck. Gavon looked it over closely, approximating the distance they would need to be in order to successfully connect to the hatch.

“E-V move us into position, and then extend the tunnel when you’re close enough to attach.”

The Agent quickly moved over to the weapon’s locker along the wall, keying in the unlock code, and opening the door to reveal an assortment of firearms, vibro & energy blades, various small ion & stun grenades, and a satchel of debilitating traps and triggers. He grabbed his armoured long coat and slipped it on, buckling the front straps in, and securing the many pockets. The coat, lined with plates of plastoid and cortosis, hung to about knee length, protecting mostly from short & medium range plasma bolts, and various energy melee weapons. It also offered some protection from heat and flame, and allowed for maximum movement, especially in tight spaces.

He grabbed two of his DH-17 blaster pistols, modified to be lighter, and less cumbersome their their older models, and three small energy blades he slipped into the sheaths across his chest. Gavon looked through the satchel of explosives, and traps, quickly organizing them to fit more securely into the bag, which he then strapped to his belt.

“Sir, we are in position, and the tunnel extension is on it’s way to connect and seal with the Milano’s cargo hatch.”

“Excellence.” He said, fastening the small datapad to his wrist, and heading for the airlock.

“Sir, the tunnel has connected and sealed. You have a green light to open the airlock.”

Gavon keyed in the airlock release code, and a moment later the door slid open, revealing the narrow conduit ahead. He’d only ever used this method once, back with Imperial Intelligence, but he knew there was no other way to keep some semblance of surprise. The Agent slowly walked up to the cargo hatch, examining the outer control panel next to the door, and spoke into his comm.

“E-V, override control relay CR-319-0” He said, crouching next to the flashing console.

“Negative Agent, there appears to be a block from any remote interference. You’ll need to interface directly with the console. I will send you the proper override codes”

Gavon slid the interface cable out from his wrist console, and snapped it into the port just below the hatches controls. The screen on his console lit up, and a series of encrypted numbers, letters, and symbols scrolled at a rapid pace until it stopped, awaiting a command. The Agent punched in the proper override codes, and after a few moments, the airlock seals released and the hatch slid open, revealing a low lit corridor with another door at the end.

Gavon took in a deep breath and pulled one of his blasters from the holster.

“E-V, keep an eye out will ya? I don’t need any surprises.” He said, as he stepped onto the Milano, and slowly crept down the corridor.

“I shall keep two eyes out for you Agent...”

The blaster fire erupted somewhere in the cargo hold. The two inspectors that were with fixer just stared at one another and, un-holstering their guns, runned for the sounds ignoring the seemingly broken droid. He made no effort to stop them yet, but followed them from a safe distance. When they jumped into the cargo bay, the droid entered one of the main maintenance consoles and sealed the door of the small room (13) His third arm and some of his improved sensors pointed at the door with his own gun, meanwhile his main hands and computer comm-device started working on the console itself. The computer was far more aware of what had happened, and it were not pleasurable news for the mechanical being: two crewmembers arrested and a firefight nearby, probably due to yet another arrest attemp. If the imps caught them, he would be treated as confiscated cargo, scrapped or, in the best scenario, mind-whiped and auctioned.

That would NOT do. But it could happen if imperial reinforcements manage to board the ship.

Musuka was no more. Fixer transferred control to his own console. The station was probably powering up an Ion cannon or perhaps even a tractor beam. Fortunately for them, the Koenysar cruisers had de-facto cruiser ion-weapons mounted on their sides. He readied his plan: fire inside the hangar to de-activate any defence or tractor beam trying to stop them from the inside, firing even a valuable concussion charge if neccesary. Then get rid of the umbilical docking and get the ship the hell outta here with aux-energy to the shields and contention fire against the station's weapons. Having the Macro took him just one or two minutes. For one moment he considered telling Jacque or Kruss... he had an internal comm-link. Would probably do not harm:

"Kaptain, Kruss: Fixer here. Gonna make this sweetie get out clone-wars-style and blow off anyone's head that happens to interfere: I'll accept your ammends to the plan for zze next five zeconds: fife, four, zree..."

(OOC: I understand that the result of "such" a plan must be considered by the GM himself, right?. Please, tell me if I'm overreacting)

The last two inspector Troopers shivered ever so slightly as they awaited whatever was to come out of that hallway they held. Guns out and fingers itching to pull the trigger, they waited what seemed like an eternity.

“Throw your weapon down! We have the exit covered!” the more confident one called. More waiting ensued. After a minute, they heard footsteps. Heavy ones.

Step after ominous step, from within the ship. They then began to feel the steps reverberating lightly upon the floor, until they knew that whoever or whatever had killed their comrades, was just behind the corner.
"T-That's it! Come out!"

The Troopers heavy breathing could be heard throughout the hallway. At first, the beeping was mistaken for their imaginations. But 3 seconds later, a metal sphere hit the wall, ricocheting off it and flying right between the Troopers heads. The fragmentation grenade did not even hit the ground before it exploded, ripping through the two Trooper's bodies like knives through butter. Their screams were halted a split second after they began, before all was silent.

Sol'id Fist stepped out of the corner, gun at the ready. He was fortunate to have found the grenade on one of the dead Trooper's bodies. Seconds passed as he waited, before drawing himself up. It was at that moment, Gavon appeared. @Rawk

Jacque sucked in a sharp breath as the carbine was leveled at his chest. Goddamn it Krus. The nemodian's reaction was completely expected- in fact Jacque would've been completely surprised if Krus hadn't run, still, goddamn it Krus. With his current positioning there was little Jacque could do beyond comply for the time being. The human slowly fell to his knees and placed his hands on his head, all the while glaring daggers Tr'ann Dasheer's smug face. In that moment the human came to one single conclusion: The very moment he got the chance, Tr'ann Dasheer was going to catch one in between his legs. It was times such as this that made Jacque absolutely adored his planet. Specifically, he adored how Sirpar's heavy gravitational pull made moving in more "normal" gravity an absolute breeze.

The sound of Fixer's voice over his comm caused a momentary lapse in Jacque's concentration prompting from the human another sharp breath, though his eyes still remained on the Chagrian officer. An idea came to mind, one that was in all honesty pretty stupid, "Fixer I swear if this doesn't get me killed you'd better not get us blown apart." He mused as he breathed in deeply. "GET US THE HELL OUT OF HERE FIXER!" He all but roared as he lunged forward. Muscles built up from several years worth of of heavy gravity, heavy lifting, and heavy brawling exploded into action as Jacque closed the gap between himself and Tr'ann in short order. With his right hand he clawed wildly at the blaster in a mad attempt to at least turn it away from something vital, and with his left he swung for Tr'ann's face as hard as he could manage. Further adding to his assault attempt Jacque tried to make good on his promise of genital assault by trying to catch the Chagrian's groin with his knee.

Jacque couldn't quite think clearly at the moment, given his mad attempt at neutralizing his captor at the moment. However if he could, there would likely be only two things going through his mind: Fuck the First Order, and fuck this day.

"Zree, tchu..." Fixer not even bothered himself in pressing a button dramatically. His Verbobrain made a quick nano-seconds lasting thought, and the screen turned yellow. He needed the main arms to stay braced to the seat. The cannons roared, the shields activated and the engines shouted as hell-envoys. Luckyly, the easier way to board a Koenysar was throug one side of the front section, so even if the umbilical had any magnets, they had probably been de-activated by the first Ion volley.

As a mighty bird, the ship showed its claws and fought to escape quickly: the remaining cargo and probably all the passengers -but for Jacque and Krus, maybe, because they had been warned- got severely shaked by the surprise maneouver. Fixer hadn't even considered what a broken neck was.

As the "Milano" runned away for its money, the droid felt a residual sensation of completion, as one of his former main directives -hurt the guys in white- was fulfilled. An stupid idea broke into his sensible brain. Where had him stored that audio record...? ah! yes!

Just a second later, the radio-bands of everyone near the ship but the one used by the crew were filled. Filled with music, emitted from the cockpit radio:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TGHW9sFtK4o

OOC: -edited- Has anyone clicked on the music? And if so, why nobody has told me it was an spanish documentary about Sri Lanka?! changed now with the correct theme

It was chaos in the monitoring station, the supervisor shouted orders about readying the fighters while one of the comms officers, a balding human male called Thaan Benner, in contact with the Enforcer tried to get her attention. A brief “Handle it.” Gave Thaan free reign to notify the Enforcer of the situation.

“Their crew has been separated. Two of which were being brought onto the station for questioning. Then Troopers were suddenly being attacked on the ship. A handful have been killed or injured. We aren’t sure how many are in on this, but whatever the case, they are good and- ”

He tried to finish the sentence as the message of So’lid was being relayed in the monitoring station:
“If that is all you have, I suggest giving up. ”
“W-well armed we presu-“

Thaan noticed the comms line had ended and immediately after heard that the Enforcer was sharply changing course towards the Milano. He leaned back into his chair, shutting out the chaos of the command room and looking towards the projection on the screen. He tugged on his ill-fitting First Order uniform while muttering a curse under his breath.

“I liked it more when we were still an independent mining station.”

---

Tr’ann Dasheer was trying to make sense of the eruption of commands coming from the station. He had been through this before, it made him wish he could turn off comms with the station, but he would get fired for that. His years here as a contractor were a form of early pension for a man in his profession. Or so he thought, before members of the team he was ought to protect started dying from blasterfire. Tr’ann felt a familiar rush take hold of him as he was thinking of the ship layout and how to best direct the reinforcements that were thundering through the boarding ramp. His planning was roughly disturbed by a message going over the ships intercom:

"Kaptain, Kruss: Fixer here. Gonna make this sweetie get out clone-wars-style and blow off anyone's head that happens to interfere: I'll accept your ammends to the plan for zze next five zeconds: fife, four, zree..."

Tr’ann first frowned in disbelief before his eyes went to Jacque as to encourage him to bring the droid to reason. His hope was thrown into hyperspace however as Jacque shouted:

"GET US THE HELL OUT OF HERE FIXER!"

And he saw the human come into action with a surprising speed. Tr’ann’s blaster was still fixed on the doorway when Jacque came into action and he tried to swing it around while squeezing the trigger. Only to have it come to a violent halt against Jacque’s hand. The sound of blasterfire impacts in the room almost drowned out the:

“Tchu”

That could be heard over the ships intercom, he missed any further counting, if there was any, due to the sound of his own, high-pitched outcry as Jacques knee went into his groin. It folded Tr’ann folded over in sheer agony as the ship started moving under him. Before he hit the ground he thought of the bastard that had recommended him this station.

---

The Supervisor was suddenly silenced while one of her officers shouted in panic:

“Weapons have locked onto us ma’am!”
“Fire the ion can-“

Would have been her reply if the holoprojection of the Milano hadn’t flared up that instant only to have the entire room go dark right after. In the command room red lighting came online the second normal lighting failed. It was followed by the sound of twisting plasteel that reached a crescendo as the holoprojection came back on and showed the docking tunnel snapping with a loud crack. The supervisor watched it with disbelief. Not only because of the Stormtroopers that were sucked out of the broken end of the tunnel into space or for the Enforcer, that was being dragged along as the Milano was catching speed. But also because of the absence of clear blue projectiles being fired after the Milano.

“I said fire the ion cannons!”

she blurted out aggressively, but things remained silent, she looked around in quick, frantic movements until her gaze fell upon Hulpa, who was shaking her head in front of the console.

“The battery team isn’t responding ma’am, were getting reports of an explosive impact there. Possibly a concussive charge…”

The Supervisors head and shoulders slumped, as she ordered the TIE’s to be send out with an annoyed order.

---

In the Hangar bay FR-11987 was manually restarting his antiquated TIE fighter from inside the cockpit as several of the maintenance crew where trying to do affect the process from the outside. 6 TIE-fighters were lined up, FR-11987’s was the one farthest away from the Ion impact.

“Come on!”

He shouted as he tried some percussive maintenance measures on the targeting display. He repeatedly tried to same procedure of punching the display, while violently bashing in the ignition button, only coming to effect on the 7th try.

“Yes Baby!, FR-11987 back online!”

He blurted into the comms that he had opened halfway through the sentence. Raising a thumb to the maintenance crew outside his cockpit.
Several other TIE’s where now starting as the Milano flew out towards the asteroid field with the Enforcer in tow.

Except for the confusion related to the sound archive, the operation was being a success. Fixer was so full of himself that he remembered a commander he had once obeyed, who claimed that droids could not be wrong. Then he reminded himself a few other moments in which he had been wrong and tempered his mood. By the way, he couldn't keep piloting this beauty from a maintenance computer forever. Anyway, he decided to swithch off life maintenance and lights in the cargo hold and transfer that energy to the shields, while charging a routine evading course to prevent being hit from the station or his ships.

"We are out, sir!" he transferred through internal commlink "However I would really like to know WHO has started firing in the cargo hold! Mainly vvecause Im just by it. And if someone could pliiiise get down here, to the cockpit, or to the Ion Cannons, dat... dat would be awesome"

Then, Fixer went silent, and directed his improved sensors to try and guess what was going on behind the sealed door. He would had sworn he had heard an explosion. And the guards were not yelling anymore. His gun yet pointing at the entrance, he commanded the computer with the last orders needed to get out and set the autopilot. Then he blocked the terminal, switched the screen and light off and, relying on his improved sensors, proned near the door and opened it, gun in his right hand.

If he had success, he would be able to reach for the stairway meanwhile the guards or whoever was in the hold recovered his feet after the maneouver, and do it under cover from darkness. Slowly, he started walking backways, ducked, with slow but continous movements. His sensors gave him advantage. They had to.

Gavon stopped just short of the cargo hold exit and scanned the hatch using the datapad strapped to his forearm. This would give him a short-ranged sweep of lifesigns or possible activated traps on the other side, before proceeding, although interference from both the ship and the asteroid field outside caused a few unknown spikes in the readout. Nonetheless, he saw no immediate threat, and triggered the door release, opening up to a large area that went for several meters before angling ninety-degrees to the left and giving the appearance of an L-shaped room. He slipped behind a shallow wall column a few steps away, and pulled out two fist-sized spherical probe droids from his belt satchel.

“E-V, I need you to sync up Enforcer One’s scanners to the probes. Copy?” He whispered into the comm, as he twisted each probe to activate and sync with both his wrist control and the scanner on his ship.

A response came back riddled with static, but well enough to decipher E-V’s acknowledgement, as he continued the process of syncing the units. After a few moments, the probes repulsor systems kicked in and each one floated about eye level, reaching out their scanning tools for a preliminary test. Gavon, satisfied with the results, keyed in their scanning protocols, and released them to execute the mission parameters. He slowly followed several meters behind them, ensuring that all visual and auditory sensors were online. The probes were outdated but still functional, built and customized by Imperial Intelligence to scan through most solid objects, and to be as inconspicuous as possible due to their onboard stealth technology. The exterior of each probe allowed it to blend with the surrounding environment, lessening the chance of being sighted, although enhanced scanning tools or a sharp steady eye wouldn’t have trouble spotting it. Overall, the probe’s AI was tactical enough to stay out of obvious visual range, and even moreso if they sensed nearby hostiles.

The sudden sound of an explosion could be heard, and the ship vibrated, causing Gavon to press flat against the wall in order to keep balanced.

“E-V, what the hell was that? Was the Milano hit?” The Agent tried to keep his voice to a low roar, even as the ship’s emergency alert systems blared momentarily, and internal lighting was replaced with the red glow of security and auxiliary lighting.

“Sir…multiple explos...immediate evac…” E-V’s voice crackled and cut out over the poor transmission. Gavon heard the vessel’s engine roaring to life, and before he could brace himself, the ship’s powerful thrusters blasted away from the docking port, sending the Agent, and several loose cargo items, sliding across the cold durasteel floor to a dead stop against the wall.

“E-V!...please tell me you released the umbilical tunnel that was connected to the rear cargo hatch?...” This time he wasn’t so silent, knowing that the Enforcer would be violently towed behind, and potentially torn apart by the wayward asteroid field. Gavon clenched his teeth, hoping that his ship was still operational...

“Agent, the airlock rel….the tunnel shortly after the Mil….left the dock. The Enforcer was towed a fai…....is back in control, Sir.” The EV droid’s calm tone brought some reassurance to the Agent, knowing that the EV-12 navigational droid’s protocol was to continue pursuit at any cost. Gavon pulled himself up from the floor and checked both probes status.

Still online…

Frantic, yet indecipherable, voices were picked up through the probes, placing the sounds somewhere in the main corridor that ran down the middle of the ship. Gavon headed toward the door leading out, and noticed it hadn't sealed all the way, leaving a small enough gap for the probes to have slipped through apparently.

“Damn, the release is jammed” He mumbled to himself, peering out through gap into the long corridor ahead. He opened the door’s control panel, and plugged his datapad interface cable into the appropriate spot, pulling up a view of the door override system.

“Let’s hope this works…”

The Milano was now moving once again. He could feel the thrumming of the engines and the sudden sense of vertigo as it began to speed away from the station. Current mission was accomplished, as far as he was concerned. All hostiles dead, and the crew, or what was left of them, were presumably back upon the ship. He still stood at a ready stance, his custom commando blaster rifle still held out as if ready to kill.

The Bounty Hunter began to creep back towards the back of the undership, until he heard something. A voice inside the next corridor. Sol'id's expression could not be seen behind his visor, but one would have imagined it might show some recognition as two probe droids floated out of the crack between a door. The door opened no further, and from what he could tell, it was stuck. There was a man behind it as well.

Sol'id knew he couldn't avoid detection or the like, so he stood there with his gun at the ready as the droids scanned around him. He had nowhere to go, and wouldn't even if he did. All of the dead troopers. The crew would come looking for him eventually.

Jacque let out a soft groan as he rubbed the back of his head gingerly. Even with Ficer's warning he hadn't reacted quick enough to properly brace himself as the Milano tore ass out of the inspection station, the result was the human's brand new lump courtesy of the back of his head having a sudden and violent meeting with a wall. Thankfully there didn't appear to be any serious damage, neither to him nor to the ship's newest addition. After shaking his head to try and clear the pain a bit, Jacque went to plant a foot firmly onto Tr'ann's back and brought up his comm, "Copy that Fixer. Kruss is, well, being Kruss, so I don't think we should expect any word from him until the heat dies down. If you can focus on getting us the hell out of here and getting our defenses up, I'll see if I can do something about our new friend.".

He had a feeling that Fixer wouldn't be too happy with that sort of pressure being placed on him, however he also figured that given the nature of the situation the droid's desire to live would override any desires to complain until they were out of the shit. Clipping the comm link back to his belt Jacque glanced down at the Chagrian beneath his foot and wondered what could be done with the alien. More complex plans would have to wait until thins weren't so crazy, but for the time being at least the answer was obvious. Jacque knelt down and pressed his knee into the small of Tr'ann's back. Wait came next wasn't a smarmy one liner, threat, or demand. What came next was a good old fashioned beating. The human wailed on the back of Tr'ann's head until he felt that the odds of the inspection officer waking up to cause problems at the worst possible moment were nil.

Following this Jacque scooped up the discarded carbine and gave it a thorough once over. Once he was satisfied that the weapon didn't appear as though it would blow up in his hands he slipped into the lower deck of the ship. This was where another one of his skills as a smuggler began to come into play. Due to his size many people would have likely believed it to be near impossible for Jacque to be silent when he moved. He certainly played into it well enough, alternating between the slow and almost leisurely 'thumping' steps and thunderous stomps based on the situation at hand. Now it was different; his steps where controlled and precise, each foot cautiously placed down in front of the other only when he was certain that he wouldn't give away his position.

It made for a bit of a slow going, as his bulk could still very well betray him it he moved too quickly in the narrow corridors. The dead bodies he was forced to step over certainly didn't help matters either. Somewhere further down there was a clanging noise as though something had just been dropped, he stopped in his tracks and craned his neck to see if he could hear a voice. There was a muffled sound, not entirely unlike the sounds a person made when talking. Raising the carbine in his hands into a ready position Jacque moved once more, delving deeper into the bowels of the Milano.

The override sequence had to be re-calibrated a couple of times before it eventually found the correct protocols to rework the sliders, causing the thick durasteel blast door to suddenly shut and reset itself before reopening all the way. The Agent let out a relieved breath of air, wiped the sweat from his brow, and proceeded to step over the threshold until a faint alert flagged across the datapad on his wrist.

Across the low lit corridor, the two probe droids had picked up a heat signature within in several meters of their location, however, were unable to pinpoint it due to a flux of interference most likely due to the massive surge of power generated from the Milano during it’s immediate and unforeseen departure from the asteroid station’s dock. From the slight traces that he could see on the screen, Gavon took precautionary steps as he kept his back against the corridor wall and grabbed his second blaster pistol from it’s holster. He quickly adjusted the droid’s sensor strength, hoping to cut through more of the interference, and at that moment the second droid picked up faint life signs toward the opposite end of the main corridor, quickly pulled out of it’s present vector and headed in that direction.

Gavon stopped in his tracks, as whatever interference that had hindered the droid’s scanners was suddenly lifted within a small window of time, revealing the heat & energy signatures of a fully armored individual about a meter from the droid. From what could be discerned by the scanners readout, the target’s blaster rifle had been previously discharged and they are wearing a unidentified helmet. The Agent took a few short steps and pressed his back up against a small partition protruding from the wall, keeping his body shielded from whoever was across the low lit hallway. His initial thought was a possible First Order trooper who had been assigned to the ship, and was currently on a routine inspection, but he also knew they wouldn’t send a solitary trooper into a potentially hostile situation.

Unsure of whether this was, in fact, a First Order soldier, one of the crewmen, or perhaps an unforeseen third party, the Agent had to attempt to diffuse the situation by use of a quick and dirty cover story. He switched on the probe’s proximity communicator, and spoke into the commlink attached to his earpiece, doing away with any typical military formalities.

“There’s no need to hide, friend. I need you to step out slowly & unarmed, so I at least I know you won’t fire at me. I have no quarrels with you. I just need to know what’s going on with my ship...”

Gavon knew this was a bold move, suddenly placing ownership of the Milano square in his lap, but it beat the alternative.

“Nolan Reese, ship’s Engineer at your service. Please cease and assist...”