Fuck.... That was the only thing that went through her mind when she was pulled into the hanger. She transmitted her codes, her information, the ships registration, everything she needed to verify that it was, in fact, her vessel. The beat up, red space craft appeared to have seen better days, it's pupulsion system needed some work, at least the man thrusters anyway. There were dings and dents, a small panel missing on the left side by the compartment for one of the grappling arms. It still had some speed to her, despite its rough condition.<br/><br/>"Hurry up...I want to get out of here...." She grumbled to herself, her small body leaning back in the main pilot seat. The cockpit was small, enough room for her and two others, if she so chose. She did prefer to work alone, preferred to not being asked to turn down her music. The sooner she was out of here, the better, at least she thought so. She glanced out the window, watching the hanger slightly as she let herself get comfortable, at least until she heard banging at the side entrance. She got up, her five foot tall figure moving out of the cockpit and to the small living quarters, the door opening as she tapped the panel. "Am I able to leave now?" She asked, raising an eyebrow when she noticed one had a sandwich. The small woman wore a skin tight black tank top, the fabric clung tightly to her slender frame and large chest, the grey jumpsuit pulled from her upper body, tied around her hips, the pants loose and tucked into the black boots she wore.<br/><br/>"We need you to deliver this sandwich to that man." One indicated near the explosives, the small woman almost seemed to laugh, thinking it was one huge joke. But the fact they were armed seemed to make her think otherwise. She grabbed the sandwich from one of them, pushing past them.<br/><br/>"I better get to leave after this!" She shouted back to them, becoming slightly annoyed with this. She almost dared them to make a joke. As she walked towards those crates, her eyes on the explosives slightly.