As FR-11987 cleared the smoke of the concussive missile hitting their batteries that blinded him upon leaving the hangar bay of the monitoring station he could see the Milano was now stabilizing in speed from its initial surge and steadily making through the opening in the asteroid field of Pressy’s Tumble. It left behind a smoking trail from the last bit of docking tunnel that. He didn’t see the usual mist that crystalizes by the extreme temperature drop of outer space, which indicated the ship had, probably automatically, closed the docking hatch in response to the sudden drop of pressure. On the Milano’s starboard the Enforcer was just retracting it’s boarding tunnel and veering towards the back of the Milano to avoid an asteroid.

“Why did this have to happen now for fucks sake… right when the field is at its low density.”

He opened his comm channel to his other 5 fellow pilots.

“Omega squadron, flank that ship on the portside, aim for the hatch, might be that there is structural damage there. Zeta’s on me, we’ll tail the bastard.”

A few aye’s indicating his orders were heard, even more so the 3 TIEs that were speeding out into a wide turn towards his left. FR-11987 never liked these assignments, apart from flying in between the asteroids he knew the Milano was packing ion cannons that, if they hit a TIE, could make them fly helplessly into an asteroid ahead. Besides, the ship had shown to be carrying ordnance, something he wasn’t thrilled about either. His assessment had to wait however for his helmet communicator crackled to live:

“Zeta Leader, last count showed us that they have 3 aboard alive, including officer Dasheer, fire to cripple. We are trying to establish contact using your ship as a relay.”

Due to the interference this happened all the time, and FR-1987 had already flicked the switches when he was still in the Hangar.

“Copy that Command, We will stay on their tail.”

“This is …. Tumble, halt your ship and slave to ch…… TIE’s are in pursuit I repeat .…… will be destroyed.”

Was the message being relayed to the Milano’s comms with bad interference for those in the position to listen. It sure weren’t the two of the search crew that were now standing in the dark Cargo bay.

“The air is going stale, they turned off life support.”

“Fuck. Not dying in this bloody second rate cargo hauler Zel, manual hatch should be that way.”

Orpel pointed his flashlight towards the end of the long corridor, slightly veering up.

“Why didn’t we get those nice carbine mounted flashlights…”

“Couse we don’t get payed to do combat Orpel. We get payed to inspect, look at where we ended up.”

Zel was nervously swaying the small carbine around his eyes wandering over every nook and cranny. He was just taking a look over his shoulder as he bumped into Orpel who had stopped.

“Easy now trooper, I got the hatch, should take us close to the cockpit. With any luck we might hold up in there and get this ship to fly back.”

“We’ll get killed you fool, didn’t you hear them take out Rita and Dayel…”

“We’ll get killed either way Zel. Might as well risk a promotion while we are at it. Might be that they even killed that Chagrian cunt.”

A vicious smile went over Orpel’s face, Zel knew he was a bastard, the bony human had a reputation that way, Zel just didn’t think he would live up to it under these conditions.

“You’ll be officer Zel, imagine the credits huh? Now hold this.”

He gave Zel his flashlight as he pulled out the ladder to the hatch, ready to open it manually.

The Mandalorian stayed quiet for many moments as the ship rocked and thrummed, standing there amidst the low light like a statue. "Your ship?" the Bounty Hunter asked. He regarded the small droid, contemplating either crushing it or shooting it, but he did not move an inch. He let his words hang, very sure that this man wasn't who he claimed he was. That did not necessarily mean he was dangerous, but he would find the truth of things.

"I was paid by the ones who claim this ship to protect their precious cargo. And I only lay my weapons down for those who pay me to do so." he explained. "I do not know who you are, and you do not know who I am I assume. My counter proposal is that you come out here and face me. I will have my weapon, you will have yours. But I will not kill you unless you make an attempt on my life. I don't play in tricks or trivialities. Instead of us lying and claiming to meet unarmed, let us be equals and meet armed. Whether we use them is up to us."

Sol'id hefted his custom rifle, though he didn't hold it at the ready with any sort of aim. Part of it was the fact he was confident in his efficiency, but the other that kept his barrel down was honor. He wasn't sure if the man whom he was speaking to shared his sense of honor. It didn't bother Sol'id. If whomever he was speaking to tried to kill him, it didn't matter. Even if he succeeded, Sol'id Fist would crawl out of the pit of hell to drag him down with him.

“Typical…” The Agent mumbled to himself, realizing that nothing in the vast expanse of the known galaxy is ever easy. His negotiating skills were rather rusty as of late, but the situation and his own belief, called for a de-escalation of any further casualties. He’d signed up for the job, sure, but not like this.

Gavon keyed in a code on his wrist datapad that set the two droids to Security Protocol Level Omega, which was essentially a “seek and immobilize” command. It would, under duress, immediately propel the droids into the threatening target, latch onto via magnetic seals, and send a massive electrical arc from one droid module to the other, potentially rendering the target unconscious. However, as the Agent was fully aware, the likelihood of it causing much of an impact on the heavily armoured individual was slim.

Either way, he hoped it didn't come to that.

“Agreed, I’m on my way out.” He finally responded into the comm, before checking his one blaster and contemplating pulling the second out as well, but deciding against such a sign of hostility. If this guy was honorable to his word, Gavon wouldn’t need it anyway.

He slowly stepped from the shadow of the large vertical support structure, and inched his way over to the armored figure’s location, which he was able to pinpoint with visual confirmation based on the hovering probe droids position.

“Agent, are...kay?” His earpiece crackled on, as E-V chimed in through the continued interference. “...in pursuit direct...hind the Milano…”

Gavon picked up the jist of it, well enough to know his ship was still following as planned.

“Copy that.” He whispered. “Keep comms to a minimum until further notice”

“Sir?...much interfer...can...peat your last…”

Gavon didn’t respond, as doing so would draw too much suspicion from an already awkward meeting. He switched off the receiver for the moment and continued his course, eventually placing him approximately three meters away from where the other guy stood his ground.

“Okay.” He spoke out loud, no longing needing the droids as a proxy. “I’m here. No hostility, just need to know what’s going on...”

Fixer reached the ladder without a problem and locked the hatch while leaving towards the cockpit. He surely thought he would be forced to pilot this beuty one day... but this was just one day too soon. Inmediately he started evassive maneouvers while connecting himself to the computer in order to receive de sensors info faster. He started to think he could use the Tie's speed to his advantadge at least once: drastically, unespectedly reducing speed and giving power to the rear shields, in order to be sorpassed by the fighters and have a window to shoot them down with the front weapons.

He made that plan into motion, but it made no sense not to use the side Ion cannons: he turned them backwards and started shooting. At least that should make harder for them to hit the Milano... now, were did Musuka had stored the Hyperspace coordinates? ¡Ah, yes! right before the "porn" folder. Those Spacers...

A laser discharge impacted into the shields, and the whole ship felt it. That had been a close one. If they only had any cargo left that could be released to form a temporary obstacl...

Fixer did the closest thing he could to a smile:

"Roger, Roger"

As he continued in his pursuit for the trespasser aboard his vessel, Jacque couldn't help but lament one particular flaw in the Milano's design: It offered few hiding places when one was coming down the main corridor. This was a fact that the human was immediately made aware of when he finally happened upon not one, but two unknown bodies, not to mention a few droids that he was pretty certain didn't belong there either. Shit. There was however one silver lining to this situation, and it was that the uninvited guests didn't exactly look to be on good terms with one another if the big armored guy's way of holding his rifle was any sort of indication.

As Jacque raised his carbine he began to debate the merits on trying to pop all of them at once. On the one hand; he'd have the element of surprise, on the other; chances were he might not hit everyone in time to avoid retaliation, not to mention there was a chance that even if he did hit them all he might not score a kill with each shot, worse still, there was a possibility that the ensuing fire fight could damage something important. With these thoughts rattling about in his head, Jacque came to the conclusion that the risks far outweighed the rewards and cleared his throat loudly to catch everyone's attention, "I'm going to have to ask you folks to drop your weapons. I'm also going to have to ask who the fuck you people are, and why the fuck you're on my ship.".

The man finally decided to show himself, and he approached in a nervous, albeit honorable sort of fashion. Perhaps the Mandalorian wouldn't need to kill him after all. Sol'id didn't retreat or advance from his position. Just as the man was asking about what was going on, Sol'id heard a noise to the side, followed by "I'm going to have to ask you folks to drop your weapons. I'm also going to have to ask who the fuck you people are, and why the fuck you're on my ship.".

This was only the 2nd time, and Sol'id was already getting quite tired of people giving him orders, or being asked to put his weapon down for that matter. This newcomer also seemed to be the Captain, just like this one in front of him. He flexed his free hand, opening and closing it into a fist slowly.

The large warrior gave an audible breath through his visor, and the two men in this 'corellian standoff' didn't really seem to know just how close to violence Sol'id was. He made no immediate move or sound, and then as if a self preservation system was turned on within his body, Sol'id realized it would be in the best interest for his contract if he did not attack. "As I told this one-" Sol'id said, nodding to Gavon. "-I do not drop my weapons for anyone unless they have hired me. You can pry it from my cold dead hands, if you have the courage and skill to do so, and I am sure you don't." he replied. He made no threatening moves however. In fact he seemed completely at ease.

"I was assigned by your previous employer to guard special cargo that has been stowed away upon this vessel, to be delivered to a Skakoan scientist on Manaan by the name of Eraz Molan. I've been aboard this ship for longer than I know, for we have yet to reach that destination. Now that your question has been answered, I'd ask which one of you is Jacque? So far you both have claimed to own this ship, and I would rather not shoot someone useful."

The words moved through his software as water into a deep river: easily and quickly. It was almost pleasurable to say them aloud. Now, the Ties were forming behind him. The droid took an almost straight scaperoute in order to make them believe they were out-running him. Then, he decreased speed. Slowly. Slowly. He had stopped firing the Ion cannons, making the pilots believe they were malfunctioning. He had, also, his third arm just over a ladder which would release the Septic system's content behind the ship with a simple pull. Here, far in the system's edge, it would freeze almost instantly and become a mayor and unexpected obstacle for his pursuers. Allowing him to get rid of at least one or two fighters and use the confusion to get rid of the rest with the ship's conventional weaponry.

The most unconventional space-mine in galactic history was about to be released. And Fixer started to worry a little about his own sanity, once he analyzed the Idea he just had. Creative droids, who would have guessed that?.

The Ties were just a few metres at his six. He pulled the ladder.

As if this situation couldn’t get any more complicated…

The Agent kept his finger poised on the blaster pistol trigger when he heard the echoing voice of the ship’s alleged Captain from the other end of the corridor. While the third individual spoke, Gavon slowly backed toward the bulkhead a few feet from where he stood, as he wanted to ensure that his back was secure and vantage point was unobstructed in the event things went in another direction, which they understandably could. Even at the request of the ship’s Captain, both men decided against the idea of disarming, as the situation had too many variables that wouldn’t favor the unarmed combatant.

The armored figure, on the other hand, had revealed his purpose - whether true or otherwise - and was claiming to have been tasked with guarding particular cargo that was aboard the ship and deliver it to the ocean planet of Manaan. But why there? It would hard to imagine the Selkath species having any part in this, but at the same time things have changed their viewpoint on the galaxy and trade negotiations, especially during the Clone Wars. Either way, Gavon’s interests didn’t rest on the cargo or it’s content so much as it did on the crew itself, and this new “hired gun” seemed adamant at keeping his charge safe at any cost.

The hunter specifically ask for one of the crew by name, a “Jacques”, which very well could have been the other down the corridor, but the Agent had already associated himself with being the ship’s Engineer, which would obviously be contradicted by the real Captain of the Milano. Gavon took a chance anyway, hopefully buying more time in the process.

“Jacques?, yeah I believe that’s him over there.” He said in a nonchalant manner, gesturing with his hand in the Captain’s direction. “Hey Jacques!” Gavon’s voice echoed down the corridor. “What kind of trouble did you get us into now?”

At that moment, the ship suddenly vibrated, and the sound of a large hatch being released could be heard, along with a low level alert status over the ship’s broadcast system stating something about a “REAR SEPTIC PURGE INITIATED”. The Agent’s first thought went to his own ship, as it was also following behind at a steady pace, and hopefully E-V was able to maneuver around whatever waste was being released out into space.

FR-11987 was closing in, having just relayed the final warning from the station without a response from the Milano left him with no other option but to start firing.

‘Omega leader. Open fire.’

FR-11987 didn’t even register the “Copy that Zeta Leader” as he was already passing the Enforcer to open fire at the Milano’s engines. Green mingled with the red light of his cockpit as he fired a good stream of bolts before breaking off starboard to pass the slower ship. A move immediately followed by ion cannon fire that caught one of his wingmen off guard. Screaming, reports and general yelling filled the comms. The sounds off battle, all accompanied by the roar of Ls-1 Laser cannons and the satisfying sound of a TIE’s twin ion engines screaming round the hard turn to make a second pass at the rear of the Milano. The shots impacted the shields and rocked the thing up, but nothing penetrated so far.

“Omega Squadron, focus on their rear.”

FR-11987 called as he knew they needed more sustained firepower to breach the deflector shield. 2 TIE’s had were drifting helplessly in space now, one of them desperately screaming something about an asteroid coming up. The other 2 fighters joined ranks with FR-11987 and his wingman to start pounding the shields for a run when a strange glittering coming from multiple places at the back of the ship. Something was reflecting the light of their laser fire and it was expanding rapidly in a screen behind the Milano. FR-11987 was still in awe when he heard a hailstorm of impacts on his solar panels and cockpit. His ship veered due to one of his wingman exploding and sending FR-11987’s solar panels collide with another TIE. Only when a large, hard-frozen brown lump broke through his cockpit did it begin to dawn what was happening. Profanities came to mind as his cockpit fogged up and cold gripped his guts, but only one was uttered:

“Shit..”

---

In the Milano’s wake a single TIE was still flying, taking cover behind the now shit-hailed Enforcer that was in pursuit of the same target it seemed. Piloting it was another number/letter combination that preferred to go by the name of Otto for the 0’s and 2’s in said combination. He was shouting what had happened over the static of the Asteroid field and was reassured by the message that the VT-49’s were standing by outside the field to intercept. Otto chose to ignore the part about continuing pursuit.
Before the Milano the asteroids started to get farther in between and hyperspace co-ordinates would be able to start calculating non-lethal routes through hyperspace.

---

Inside the Milano Zel and Orpel stepped out of the hatch anxiously only to find themselves in a small enclosed room with doors on both sides (point 4 on the ship layout) Orpel gestured to Zel to move towards the rear while he pressed a thumb against his own chest and pointed towards the cockpit. Zel gave a worried nod, mustering the courage to go separate ways here. Orpel didn’t give him the time as he had already pressed the door controls and stepped into the small sleeping quarters just behind the cockpit and moved towards the second door with a zealous determination. Zel shuffled into the long corridor, systematically checking the rooms (in one of which Krus is hiding).

Fixer found himself with a rather strange feeling: his plan had worked, and he could barely believe it. Even better: the remaining Tie had broken contact, so the actually risky part of the maneouver was no longer neccesary. Now... was that the ship that was behind them in the checkpoint's row? Another smuggler probably, or someone who didn't wanted to get blamed for what they had just done and was fleeing. Law abiding citizens were not native from Pressy's Thumble as long as he knew.
And the ship was not firing at them.

Then, his improved sensors proved, once more, his oldest and most important improvement when he heard the hatch opening in the nearby room. That should be Jacques going down...

... but he hadn't heard the room's doors opening. Damn! Hadn't he locked the hatch from the outside?!

Fixer commanded the ship's computer to get the auto pilot on and start plotting a safe Hyperspace route from outside the field. Then he heard one of the doors opening and as fast as he could, retrieved his blaster from over the console and pointed at the door: it didn't opened.

"Krus" -he called through the internal comm-link- "Is Jacques by yourr plaze?" he heard another door: yet not the cockpit's. "Krus, I'm hearrring the doors in ze korridor from ze Cockpit: iz zat you?" Krus had to be alive and operative. Krus had been pointing at the sole entrance of an small room in silence. Whatever happened to the inspectors down the corridor couldn't have gotten him by surprise. He... he SHOULD be in his room, dammnit!

After an instant of doubt he switched the blaster into Stun. Something still felt bad into his programming when he thought about harming neimoidians.

And the door, finally, opened.

And the heavily retroffited E-5 fired for the first time in a long time of service to the Confederacy.

Krus had begun to calm down now that the noises had stopped, and lowered his pistol for a moment. The engines were still going, but he really wasn't sure if the ship was still being steered by anyone.

Shit, I'm probably the only live creature aboard.

Then he realized his comms device had been off all the time. Hearing a familiar voice made him sigh out of relief and let down his guard for a second.

"No, I am not with Jacques, and I certainly haven't touched a single door after lo..."

Someone was trying to get into the room, Krus could hear the sounds coming from the corridor. He raised his weapon again, tightly holding on to the grip. Hopefully whoever was on the other side would't have the tools to cut through the door. Or access to the ship's computer.

"What do you want with me? I am just a poor merchant, trying to make a living!"

Jacque clucked his tongue in annoyance and allowed his index finger to brush over the trigger of the carbine in his grip. The armored guy was a smart ass, a somewhat professional smart ass, sure, but a smart ass all the same. He was caught somewhat off guard by the other guy's comment, especially considering he was completely unfamiliar with the guy's face despite making it a personal point to be present for all of the recruitments interviews for the ship's crew. His thoughts were momentarily interrupted by the announcement the septic purge, prompting a momentary thought of "The hell are you doing Fixer?" before he returned his attention to the situation at hand.For now at least he'd play along and see how things played out, "Not exactly smart to talk shit about a guy who's pointing a gun at you, you know. That being said, yeah i'm Jacque. I'm also the guy who makes it a point not to take extra bodies or supplies on his ship without being informed.". Despite his words Jacque's mind was racing as he wondered whether or not what Sol'id was saying was actually true. Business transactions where typically handled by Krus for the most part, however the nemodian was pretty good about keeping him up to date. Most of the time any way.

He'd get back to that, it was time now to focus on the other problem. Jacque's eyes darted to Gavon, "As for YOU, how about instead of asking me questions you answer one instead? Why the hell didn't you come from below deck for the inspection with the rest of us? What, were you hiding something like Mark and Viik'ashak were?" he spat accusatorially. An experienced liar, Jacque's acting was superb as he continued to glare a hole into Gavon's head as well he would any of the other crew members, "I swear to the fucking force man; If you're the reason we had to peel out of that station i'm going to blow you out of the airlock. If you're hiding some shit then now's the time to say it.".

Even though it appeared that the tables had turned slightly in his favor, Gavon still wasn’t sure what the ship captain was up to. On the one hand, there was the Agent posing as a member of the ship’s crew, and on the other, was a possible “bounty hunter”, although even that wasn’t necessarily confirmed. Jacques, however, was most likely weighing his options while simultaneously trying to figure out just how in the hell they ended up on his ship.

“Well captain, I can’t speak for our masked friend here, but I was commissioned to this ship by Pressy’s Tumble command, to do a thorough inspection of my own, as they had intel of a Zabrak terrorist planting explosives in cargo vessel hyperdrives and rigging the ships to explode at nearby space stations.” Gavon shook his head in disappointment. “Although, when I accompanied the boarding party, I didn’t expect to be shot at, so I ducked and ran. I didn’t necessarily want to die during a suppose ‘routine inspection’...”

He followed his last comment with a slight chuckle, as he turned back to the armored individual. “And this guy, well, apparently whatever he’s guarding must either be worth a hell of alot of credits to someone, or it is, in fact, a large explosive and we’ll all be turned to space dust, am I right?”

Gavon smirked, but more so out of the fact that he’d literally pulled the story out of thin air at the last minute, yet told it as effortlessly as if it were true. Either way, it was a good bet that his presence would have been missed during the earlier firefight, therefore giving less of an argument against his word.

“So, the question that still remains, is where in the hell in this ship going now that you’ve bolted from the Asteroid station?”

Sol'id almost pulled the trigger on Gavon, but something kept him back at the last second. In fact, he let out a breath and drew himself up tall, his rifle now slung across his shoulder. "I don't know what the cargo is, nor do I care. Though I doubt someone would have me guarding a bomb when they could have detonated it before now." he said, and turned to Jacque. "I mean no disrespect when I say this, but I am not being paid to stand around, or to be questioned. I'm going back into the cargo hold, or if you think I am better suited at guarding above to keep the ship intact, that works as well. But I will not spend my time playing any more games."

In all honesty, Sol'id was tired of speaking. He often spoke in grunts or steeled looks instead of words. He held his gun casually, and stood in a similar fashion. However, he was quite ready to whip his weapon around and fire, ready to spring backwards in a roll to dodge whatever incoming return fire he'd have thrown at him. But that wasn't needed, yet. "So, are we going to fire at one another, or not?"

Orpel looked over his shoulder at Zel one last time. He needed a moment, for all the tough talk he had pumping Zel up, he wasn’t sure he was up for this himself. He held his E-11 Blaster rifle in his left hand and pointed it at the cockpit door as he pressed the button to open it. The hiss of the door opening was followed by an immediate barrage of a retrofitted E-5 that send his blaster arm reeling, he squeezed out a few shots blackening the durasteel pilot chairs and leaving a few nasty burns on the inside of the cockpit windows. Then he felt a searing pain go through his chest that slowly transformed into a mellow heat that spread over his body. He didn’t even notice that he had dropped the E-11, and only caught a glimpse of the thing responsible for it all as his eyes rolled back and his head hit the deck.

Zel had checked 3 rooms, setting the door panel’s to keep the doors open to know which ones he had checked, now when the door controls wouldn’t respond to the normal tap on the panel and heard:

"What do you want with me? I am just a poor merchant, trying to make a living!"

He immediately stepped back and raised his E-11 for a two-handed grip at the door. Anxiously looking back into the hallway towards Orpel. He was just shouting “I got o-“ when the cockpit door opened and blaster bolts were hailing Orpel’s body. Instinctively he turned and started sending bolts the way of the cockpit inaccurately, at the glimpse of a droid he only saw in old Holo-documentaries about the Clone Wars. Zel didn’t let go off the trigger and peppered the hallway with black marks until his carbine suddenly stopped firing. A gasp escaped Zel as he looked down and ran to the nearest open cabin for cover.

Behind Fixer a few red dots on the long range scanner were indicating something other than asteroids lying ahead, they flickered in and out of existence due to the static but it was something resembling the signatures of VT-49 Decimators.

"Oh, krrapp!!" Fixer reacted. He retrieved the soldier and his weapon with his extensible third arm and locked the door with an standard combination. He quickly tied up the un-conscious man with a safety belt. He considered himself multitask, but this was starting to exceed his programming. Once again, he took control of the ship's handling, and started looking for more info in the sensors, while making a much more complicated pattern of evasive maneouvers.

"If you guys have it under kontrrol unter dere, Ich kan usse etwas helpp in die grossen Kanonen! Und mit die Dunkhoff vho is firing at ze cockpit back here! Krus! Zoot'im or tell'im som Shit!... Tell him ze droid iz crazy and vill crush the zzhip if he zont surrender! Ich zon't kare!"

He found a complete file with hyperspace coordinates, and was pretty sure he only needed to scape the last asteroid to make the jump. It was just.... eh... Damn it!

In a more calmed tone, he opened a new channel: "ahhh, By ze vay... Mussuka forgott to tell mich were we ar going before he vas arrested... I've like halv a dozen koordinates of nearby places... wer do we go? Koruscant? Thyferra? I zink dey're both nearby and kannot be imps"

Jacque's eyes narrowed in thought as he listened to what the two men had to say. For a moment he remained still and silent as the gears in his head roared to life yet again. Both of the men acted as though they truly did belong here for one reason or another, and neither seemed as though they were ready to be the first one to take a shot. A lightbulb went off inside Jacque's head as an idea hit him. The smuggler let out a long and drawn out sigh and lowered his weapon, "We're going somewhere safe, I know a spot that'll let us lay low until the heat dies down a bit." he explained before nodding to Sol'id, "I'll let you get back to your job in the cargo hold, but in the mean time i'm going to get ahold of your boss to have a little chat with him. Also, from this point on you're to have one of the crew at your side at all times.". Jacque's head snapped to Gavon, "You'll take the first shift, he does something out of the ordinary shoot him" he explained in the sort of tone that left no room for rebuttal.

Jacque hoped that the men would go along with his wishes, namely because he really wanted nothing more than to go and grill Kruss about the two unknown parties on his vessel. Should the neimodian show no signs of prior knowledge then Jacque's decision would be a simple one: He'd blow them both out of the cargo hold and wash his hands of this mess. The sound of a somewhat panicky sounding Fixer was cause for a small startle which sent Jacque fumbling for his comm. He opened his mouth to speak only to be cut off by a now much calmer sounding Fixer's inquiry about the Milano's next destination, "I'll be up shortly Fixer, just keep us as we are.".

With that bit of business squared away Jacque glanced back to the pair of gun toting men and make a half hearted gesture in the direction of the cargo bay entrance, "Gentlemen.".

Sol'id wasn't entirely sure if he should let something like this slide. He'd killed men for lesser things, though he had to admit he had done so in challenges and not random neck snaps...most of the time. He clenched his teeth, and he flexed his hand yet again, opening and closing it in a fist. He decided that if he got pissed off again in the next few minutes, he would have to let off some steam somehow, and that often meant whatever was close to him would be in danger. As for now...

"My employer." he corrected, wanting them to know that him working for someone didn't mean they had his undying allegiance. He disliked the term boss. Men who worked their entire lives as Hutt muscle used the word. "And I don't care who follows me around. Though it's their duty to follow, I won't wait. Fair warning." he said, and headed towards the Cargo bay, striding confidently with his rifle held at the ready. The powerfully built man settled onto his seat atop a supply crate, sitting like the sentinel he was paid to be.

“Somewhere safe?” Gavon repeated, echoing what the captain had previously mentioned. “ ‘Safe’ from who or what, exactly?...”

He was partly playing dumb, but at the same time, he wanted to know a little bit more about the dangers he may be putting himself into. The essence of his mission was relatively cut & dry - a simple retrieval perhaps - but the deeper he delved into his cover as well as into the unusual situation unfolding, the more he realized this was anything but “simple”. Either way, he was in, and needed to sustain his cover and position among the crew of the Milano for as long as it took to complete what he was sanctioned to do. The armored individual didn’t appear to be an immediate threat, but one who needed close observation nonetheless. Fortunately for Gavon, he was given that opportunity by the ship’s captain, possibly out of fear for his crew’s life, or he hoped that both men would eventually kill each other and free him of any other troubles on his ship. Regardless of the captain’s intent, the Agent needed to keep a sharp eye and ear out on both the Milano’s remaining crew, and the mysterious armored soldier.

“I appreciate your time Captain Jacques” He said, nodding his head. “I’ll go ahead and reset the protocols on my two scanning droids as well, and have them continue their search of the ship for a possible explosive...just in case.”

Gavon keyed a few commands into the datapad strapped to his forearm: one set of parameters going to the floating probe droids, and another encrypted message going to the EV-12 unit currently navigating his ship directly behind the Milano. The message to E-V gave a brief “short-code” summary of the situation and a request to stay locked onto the Milano in the event they make a jump to hyperspace.

The Agent still had no idea where they were headed, but if what the captain was saying about “laying low” was any indication, that would probably mean far from here or any First Order occupied territory. In the meantime, he followed behind the armored soldier, toward the cargo bay pointed out by the captain, and positioning himself nearby the entrance, as his droids hovered and scanned the miscellaneous crates, including the one currently being watched over by the masked man.

The Neimoidian jumped when the blaster fire started again, but calmed down and regained his focus when it ceased after a while. Fixer seemed to be doing alright as well, which was a good thing.

"Shoot the guy? Right. Sounds like his gun fried anyways."

The absurdity of the situation never occured to Krus as he stepped out of his cabin - A Neimoidian, taking orders from a battle droid. It didn't take him long to find Zel, and when he did, he ended the poor man's life with a single shot to the head.

"So.. That was the last of them?"

After looting the body from everything valuable, Krus headed towards the command bridge.