Altair Dirac did not notice the light at first, preoccupied with necessary conversation between himself the captain, the pilot, and the navigator. He wouldn't have noticed the light at all if it were not for his first officer's alert.<br/><br/>"Captain Dirac, the sensors in cargo hold three are picking up a heat signature."<br/><br/>Altair whipped around to face the control panel; indeed, the heat sensors were actively picking up a signature. "What?" The question was aimed mostly at himself. "How?"<br/><br/>The first officer, called Hendricks, took a closer look at the heat sensors. "The signature seems to be coming from the inside of a crate. Perhaps one of clients is smuggling wildlife."<br/><br/>Altair frowned. "Whatever it is, we're checking it out. Hendricks, Bakh, come with me." The captain and his officers half-walked, half-jogged to the cargo hold. Bakh, Altair's second officer, punched in the security code as Captain Dirac and Hendricks readied their weapons.<br/><br/>The door slid open with a 'whirr' and Hendricks darted in, motioning for the others to follow when he gave the all clear. They systematically opened each crate and resealed them when there was no heat-emitting life form inside.<br/><br/>"Maybe the sensor is faulty?" Bakh suggested when only three crates remained.<br/><br/>Altair's frowned deepened, a line appearing between his brows. "We open them all," he commanded.<br/><br/>Hendricks undid the latch and opened the lid of next crate, giving a small gasp when he looked inside.<br/><br/>Altair ran to the first officer's side and looked into the crate. His lip curled into a sneer, "Stowaways."