Fixer raised a multitool, pointing at the guns: "Zze only zzing Im zzure about is zzat it izz somplace fullof... trees. Vetter ask die Kaptain, yezz? I'm... I'm juzzt die mechanik here" the droid said, trying to gain some time. "I muzzt vork on eferyzing: zere iz a devaztated jukebox, burnt cables, a temperamental generator und efen the rear right bazroom, zat iz not opperational till new notize... zoo I vould like to ask you to lie down zee veapons. I zwear any mor damage may... maybe, kause a hole in ze hull. Und zat... zat vould be bad"

That said, the droid got his tool box and headed toward one of the walls, kneeling and opening a hatchet. There he started working with his main arms, changing electric fuses and repairing circuits.

"Plzz, zon't mind me. Vvut die air konditioning in diese floor muzzt be reppaired or you'll feel rreally un-kompfortable."

As Gavon stepped over the dead stormtroopers, the hulking Mandalorian behind him simply stepped atop them like they were so much kindling now. They made their way further into the ship, the Bounty Hunter and hired Gun running into a strange Droid. Sol'id had not hefted his weapon as Gavon did, thinking that this ship held no real threats to him. His employer had already told him these men were at least a competent team, and no one would begin blasting straight off. Before them appeared an older Battle Droid model from the Clone Wars. Why it was here, he didn't know. Nor did he care all too much.

What he really cared about was their destination, and coming from this Droid, it appeared as if a planet like Kashyyk was their next stop. The Captain better have a good reason for this.
Sol'id nodded to the Droid in thanks, and stepped past him. "I intend to do just that," he said, referring to the machine's suggestion of speaking to the Captain. It was quite a comical scene it looked like. A Droid with a foreign accent and a moving mountain of a Bounty Hunter probably perplexing Gavon.
@Rawk@Sleater

Jacque pinched the bridge of his nose as he heard Fixer relay to him over the comms exactly what was broken and to what extent, "Well that's just lovely. Better still he's found our guests..." he grumbled before removing himself from the chair and making his way towards the door. Upon his exit, Jacque found himself wondering just for a moment precisely why it was that he'd chosen to get back into the smuggling business. He was good at it, sure, but goddamn if it didn't come with it's fair share of troubles. Making his way back into the common area and to the fridge that housed the remedy for his ever increasing headache. From one of the pantries the human produced a glass bottle housing a bottle of scotch, and from another he produced a glass. A bit of rummaging through the fridge brought him a pair of ice cubes, which quickly found themselves followed inside of the glass by two fingers worth of the amber colored soporific.

He titled his head and knocked half of the contents of the glass back, savoring momentarily the numbing sensation on his tongue and the burn of the liquid in his throat as he felt his tension melt away. "What a day." He rasped before replacing what he'd drank and putting the bottle away for when it would once more be needed to soothe his frustrations. Jacque removed his comm link from his belt and brought it up to his mouth when he remembered one of the several reasons he'd poured himself a glass in the first place, "Since you mentioned our friends down below I guess it goes without saying that you've met them. I can only guess that means that they've left the cargo hold, if it isn't too much trouble then could you ask them why they left the cargo hold?".

"Zzzey... tttzeyar gon to..." Fixer punched himself down the vocabulator before speaking again through the internal comm-link. That seemed to fix the machine for a moment.

"Zzzddd.. they want to know where are we heading" He mutered abruptly "And I zzon't know if I Kan tell them! Do I zhoot them or what?"

That said, the droid got a screwdriver and headed to the two men who were leaving the room, while adjusting his vocabulator: it looked like if the droid was using a huge toothstick. His third arm retrieved the E-11 blaster rifle from his backpack, hiding it behind his body:

"Exkuse me, gentlemen!" the droid called the two men "I've updated data from the kaptain. He says you should stay down here!"

The Milano’s computer communicated that the exit from hyperspace was imminent. But for now stars were still drawing out into long stripes outside the few windows the ship had. In the engine room the regular buzzing rose to a loud hum as the shields were recharging while the ship was in hyperspace. Outside the last few parts of the docking ramp were tearing clean with a shriek every few minutes. All in all it was a less quiet ride than usual, but as quiet as it gets after such a daring escape. When they left Pressy's Tumble the Milano had enough fuel for a propper jump, but little more, fuel there was 4 times the usual price, as it had to be transported into the field with smaller ships to avoid collisions with the asteroid field Luckely Bergen's Haven would sell it for only double the regular price. The ship still bore its marks though, corpses of Stormtroopers and inspection personnel, prisoners in the bathroom, some stragglers picked up underway and a mysterious cubic box of cargo.

In the morning I will have to try and destroy that bunker, or at the very least sabotage it... What else can I do? Live here and let them find me or strike out at them, destroy the cylinders and put that ammunition to use. Kyle ponders, realizing his lose-lose situation as the bunker stands proudly and the old monster looms, I'll end up dead or imprisoned no matter what I do. Let's hope one of those cylinders has schematics to that thing, or something else that can help me. With that thought Kyle clears up his dinner by throwing the leftovers down the cliff just below the landing platform and washing up the crockery & cutlery, putting them away in the building's kitchen before retiring to the machine and the information on it.

Maybe a few accidents will slow them a bit... sabotage the purpose and you've stopped them for a while, it could be a supply post so maybe bury the cargo? No that's too conspicuous. Then again losing that thing would be conspicuous too... If I could look at it then I might be able to disrupt it... Kyle contemplates as he looks through the records and forms on the cylinders relating to the bunker with ideas running through his head which seem impossible to survive let alone escape undetected on his own. I'm not escaping it, unless I get the blueprints to the place I'm either dead or discovered. With the last realization Kyle drops onto a nearby sofa in a state of dread for what could be ahead.

"No no, don't shoot them. Just...keep them busy or something." Jacque said with exasperation over his comm before he began to debate whether or not to bring the bottle back out. What happened next was best described as a clusterfuck. From his current location Jacque could just barely hear the chiming of the indicators in the cockpit signaling the arrival of what he assumed may have been another ship. Fearing for a moment that the Decimator had somehow managed to follow them through hyperspace, the Captain set down his glass and made his way to the cockpit, wherein he was treated with the decidedly less than pleasant sight of TIE fighters streaming from another vessel.

The human cursed and lunged for the controls with the intent to prepare another jump to hyperspace. He proceeded to curse even louder as he realized that, not only was the ship too low on fuel to do so, but that the other ship seemed to have too strong of a gravitational pull to do so anyway. Unless of course Jacque was willing to rip the Milano in two and get everyone killed. That left only one option. With the ship's scanners indicating that there was a planet nearby, Jacque swiftly seized the ship's controls and barked a single warning over his calm, "HOLD ON EVERYONE!". Was came next could best be described as a mad dash from the Milano as it screamed towards the surface of the planet, it's current pilot doing his damnedest to lose his tails. The ride was rough as he broke through the planet's atmosphere, no doubt due to his decision to only slow down enough to avoid having the ship burn and break apart on it's entry. Somewhere behind him he could hear the tinkling of broken glass, though he hardly had the time to deal with it.

The TIE fighters had been forced to slow down; that was good. It meant that Jacque had been given a small window of opportunity to figure things out. As the TIEs began their assault anew the human decided his best bet would be offense first. He flipped a nearby switch, activating the ship's lasguns and gritting his teeth together anxiously as they swiveled around and started to fire back. The TIEs for their part where quick to evade, save for three of them. One was destroyed in short order by the barrage of laser fire, another was clipped and sent screaming into a nearby comrade. The gap created by the TIE fighter's desire to not be destroyed allowed Jacque to push forward. An indicator to his right chimed once more and informed Jacque that the remaining pilots were pulling back, 'Oh thank the gods' he thought before letting up on the pressure in his jaw. His would be murderers deterred, Jacque clicked the button on his comm as he began looking for a place to land and recoup, "Everyone alright?".

Fixer awoke inside a huge tool box. Surely making a re-entry at FSA could be considered troublesome to anyone with neck and bones. For him, it meant an impact so strong that his head had jumped off the electro-magnetic anchors over his shoulders. Headless, his body took a loooong moment looking for the missing part. A task difficulted enough because most sensors were still on the head. Finally, his second arm found the box, opened it and recovered his proudly-made-by-Baktoid head.

"Alright might be a difficult question" the droid answered "Just allow me a moment to see if anyone else has lost the head. Or torso. Or ze battery"

Once on his feet, he started looking around the place: the red liquid in that dar corner war coolant; the white devices similar to bones, mere leftovers from the kitchen, and... yes, that hand behind the ceiling was the spare hand he had lost a month ago. "Letz zee... If I were a wanna be sailor and a walking armor... where would I be lying unconscious?"

The noise of the dogfight had awoken the old man from his state of dread. "Someone's fighting the First Order?" Kyle questions aloud, getting off the sofa in time to see a citadel class cruiser fly around nearby. Let's see what I can use... Kyle hurriedly thinks before he notices the communications console, a console Kyle is rushing towards. Over a commonly used smuggler's frequency Kyle attempts to contact the civilian ship. "Pilot of the citadel cruiser you need to land at these coordinates, they cut the landing lights so be careful. I'll meet you there with a swoop bike and a cargo platform. Don't respond, they'll think it's the aftermath of your crash." Is the message Kyle transmits to the Milano.

With the console powered down and a sporting blaster assembled the old man walks outside the door of the canteen to a small side platform attached to the landing strip on the almost pitch black outpost-like stop. A larger building supports the landing strip on the other side while the cantina supports the side with the way down. The small platform has metal stairs leading down towards the jungle floor and to an old BARC speeder along with a small repulsorlift platform resting on a particularly large tree. The leaves of the tree at the cantina level form a rather nice little outdoors sitting area, although the benches are tempting Kyle needs to meet the crew of the cruiser, which after clambering down the stairs and getting the platform in place is what Kyle begins to do with a swift activation of the BARC speeder and even more swiftly the speeder, the platform and Kyle begin speeding off towards the clearing the coordinates lead to.

Sol'id Fist had kept walking past Fixer before the 'Captain's' voice rang out on the comm, telling everyone to hang on. There was a sudden jerk, and a rumbling the likes of which Sol'id Fist had not seen in years. He could barely keep still as the ship tumbled toward the planet and then reversed to fire upon the TIEs on their tail. To everyone else however, Sol'id seemed almost gravitationally rooted to the ship's flooring, only needing his two strong arms to brace the halls for him to keep himself steady and well...solid.

The reverberations of the ship shook him, but when it was over, he slowly and calmly removed his hands from bracing the walls. He had lost his weapon in the shudder however, and began to walk around silent as the grave, looking to retrieve it. "Everyone alright?" was heard above him. He didn't answer, and he then decided to inquire on what had happened to Gavon, his would-be watcher and guard.
@Rawk@MonsieurShade@frapet

The ‘everyone alright?’ call wasn’t answered by many, but only one of them was truly in distress. Kruss had poured himself a drink to calm his trembling hands, having retired to his rooms as the trouble started. He was about to chuck back the glass of liquor when the ship started shaking violently and he had lost his footing. Time slowed down as his long drink glass, for some reason that seemed appropriate for this day, shattered as the bottle and glass collided. Kruss dropped the bottle to find a handhold to steady himself and finding the back of his desk-chair but the gravitational pull suddenly kicked in, yanking Kruss forward to hit the table. He regained consciousness only as Jacque made the announcement ‘everyone alright?’ it made Kruss wonder. Wonder why he couldn’t move, what the hot feeling in his neck was, what the burning pain that came from his neck a moment later was and why his scream was transformed into a gurgle.