Most of her space-faring experiences had been monitored by the many transportation guilds and factions across the galaxy, with their automated ships or their linear routes connecting planets via economy class travel. Passage was as easy to book as food was to find in the open-air markets of less advanced civs. Phae was floored by the Skipper being drawn in by traction beams, and despite her best efforts to forward thrusters and overcharge the shields, there seemed no remedy to the situation. There was no way this had to do with a stolen Skipper, but for the life of her, she couldn't fathom anything else of worth within the small vessel. Besides her and the cat, it had been void of usual cargo additions- there wasn't even a lockbox in her quarters to store valuables.<br/><br/>A small groan vacated the Auroun as she listened to the message across the comlink, which made about as much sense as a flat spoon. Especially concerning how easy her escape from Chandaar's surface had been. Inspection?<i>This far out?</i>No, they had to be pirate or smugglers of<i>something</i>of that nature to be skulking around unmonitored space. Bringing her fingers to her temples, Phae managed to respond with a simple, "Understood" before she stepped away from the control panel of the ship and headed for her room. Very seldom did she consider putting up a fight against the powers that plagued the galactic standard, but she wasn't about to spend her remaining years a slave, and smugglers only dealt in matters of flesh this far off the grid.<br/><br/>But the Empire had no business with Phae, so despite the distinct look of the vehicle as well as the uniformity of the hangar, this wasn't a legitimate inspection. This was a show of hostility.<br/><br/>As if her situation couldn't get any worse, the ship rocked with the sudden impact of blue projectiles meeting with the weakened shielding of the Clovis. Her body lurched, feeling a sense of vertigo while she struggled to get to where her last sense of security happened to be contained. "This can't be fucking happening..." She murmured irritably, the bare skin of her arms and shoulders alight with an ethereal dusting of light. Similar to poking holes in paper to shine a flashlight through them, so too did Phae illuminate with a tapestry of<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=https%3A%2F%2Fi.imgur.com%2Fee4aMUN.jpg&amp;hash=8b4d53853c21835833e438de4ecea52a" href="https://i.imgur.com/ee4aMUN.jpg" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank"><u> glyphs and runic markings</u></a>native only to creatures of her nature. The Psions and the Auroun alike, as well as any other practitioner of omnikinetics. Despite the power rising in her chest, she swallowed it with a harsh gasp and continued with her less volatile course of action.<br/><br/>A sick queasiness now plagued her, the weight of it was settling in her stomach by the time she gathered the<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=http%3A%2F%2Fstarwars.wikia.com%2Fwiki%2FDL-18_Blaster_Pistol&amp;hash=c8236330212b00a9904fd6252592c0b2" href="http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/DL-18_Blaster_Pistol" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank"><u>DL-18 Blaster Pistol </u></a>she had tucked with the mess of her personal effects, it's weight foreign to her palm and somehow<i>wrong</i>. She never enjoyed being around guns, given most of her upbringing had been spaceport living, and use of such weapons was not only dangerous in the closed environments but extremely illegal. It wasn't until she signed on for her apprenticeship that she learned to appreciate having the option of a firearm, but that didn't do much to ease her anxiety toward facing whoever was waiting outside the doors of her ship. Making an about-face from her now torn apart bedroom, Phae shifted to one side of the entryway and peeked out through slatted viewports at the hangar and its contents.<br/><br/>As expected, it looked nothing like what she imagined an Empire affiliated hangar to look like. Besides being empty, it was immaculate- no grease stains or gutted components or frantic droids scuttling about. Just a silence that swallowed the enormity of the hangar to be broken by the small collective of automated units and a single male. Phae squinted at the sight, too angry to appreciate his appearance, save for the fact that he appeared out of place amid his posse of androids. The Skipper had drained itself of juice, dying down to a low hum as though accepting defeat in the face of their capture, but Phae was just getting started. The more cornered she felt, the brighter she seemed to glow, and even when the Skipper's door cracked open, she was alight with an eerie presence not unlike the manipulation of the force.<br/><br/>Never the same, but perhaps a creature capable of similar manipulations. Phae didn't understand what she was, but she was willing to bet neither did her attacker.<br/><br/>"Just stay where you are!" She shouted somewhat hoarsely, careful of the now open passageway leading into Clovis. "I don't know what sort of con you're running, but you better let me go! There's no way in hell I'm gonna be tied up in whatever scam you're running, and I'll be damned in your think there's anything onboard my ship you have rights to." She didn't need to mention it, but that included her. Auroun were often highly sought after concubines and, though rare, their genes were used in countless genetic splices to create ideal pets. Phae was none of those things, and for the remainder of her life, would continue to be none of those things. Worst case scenario, she ventured dramatically, she could blow herself and the Skipper up.<br/><br/>She would rather die a martyr than live as a slave. In theory, anyway. "What do you want?"