Welcome to Gaia! ::

"Hey Banthy we landed." Tabula said to her toy and pushed herself up against the grate that seperated her from the rest of the ship. "I wonder where we are."

Niomie stood by the ramp, watching her captain running around making last minuet checks about his ship. When he opened the entry ramp, she raised one eyebrow as she spied the inspection team waiting at the bottom of the ramp. She stood waiting her papers in hand, as the team walked up and started to talk with Jag.

“The guy’s early, either he’s in a hurry and wants this to be done and over with, or he’s one of those A type personality’s that like’s to dot all the i’s and cross all the t’s.” Niomie whispered to Laura. “I think he’s the latter of the two.”

The Imperial glared at the assembled crew with a disaproving frown.
"So, Captain, this is your entire crew?" He asked Jag, his eyes drawn to Laura' chest briefly before locking on Niomie.

"No." Jag replied with an annoyed gravely tone setting in his voice. "My engineer is still fixing the damages we took when pirates attacked, and two of my crewmen were injured in the fight, one of them in a coma."

"Is this one your pilot?" The Imperial asked, gesturing at Niomie. "Are you aware that there are regulations against letting minors operate starships?"

"No, I'm the pilot." Jag told him. "She's working an apprenticeship. Hands on experience for the Academy. My real pilot is the guy unconcious in the medlab. And if you dont mind, "Officer", I'd like to get him to a medical facility-"

"You'll do no such thing." The Imperial remakred, spinning on Jag and fixing him with an intimidating glare. "Not until we have done a thourough sweep of the ship to check for contraband."

If Jag was supposed to be cowed by the threat of inspection, he wasn't. The Imperial didnt know who he was dealing with. Returning the officer's glare with one of his own, he growled a response.
"You go ahead then, but be quick about it. I've no time for you pencil pushing customs thugs. and the sooner you've finished your sweep, the sooner I can get back to buisness. And after we're through, you best hope I dont find you out of that uniform, Officer."

Taken aback by Jag's barely veiled threat, the Imperial backed up to his stormtrooper escort and motioned for them to begin searching the ship. The troopers dispersed save for the squad leader who monitored the search through his helm as he stood by the Customs Agent's side.

Niomie stood patiently on the deck, feeling almost like a piece of meat out on display as she waited for the customs inspector to start his inquisition. She fidgeted a little as the Imperials gaze swung form Laura and locked onto her, making her un-conferrable. She felt her face redden as her cheeks blushed, but when he pointed a finger at her, she bristled a bit at being called a minor.
Thankfully, Jag stepped in like a protective mother hen and took the Inspectors attention off her before she could open her mouth and defend herself. Instead, she just stood there, her hands clasped behind her back as she held on to her documentations.

Kalin trotted down to the exit ramp where Jag was standing with Niomie infront of a Official looking Imperial and his stormie pet.

Hey Cap'n. Any trouble here?

Kalin sidestepped infront of the girls and put his hands up, trying to ease the trooper. He was careful not to seem aggressive or violent at all.

Calm down there, buckethead. No need to point the gun at my wife and daughter. It's a lie, but it'll do. They are simply passengers, so please stop with the hostilities. Honey, show the man your id please.

Jag spun to look at what was going on.
His face was stone cold, a sign of incredible rage being bottled up for later.

The Customs agent didn't seem to pick up on it and gestured to the group.
"So your crew travel with family do they? I think theres a few safety regulations against that."

Jag's glare fixed on the Customs agent.
"This is a big ship, Officer. Plenty of room for people to square away in. In my culture, whole families travel on much smaller ships, traveling about from planet to planet looking for work. Been doing it for a couple thousand years as a matter of fact."

Looking down his nose at Jag the Imperial agent frowned. "Oh really? and what culture is that, I might ask."

"Mandalorian." Jag said, almost a snarl. Stepping uncomfortably close to the customs agent and ignoring the nearby stormie's uneasy fingering of his blaster rifle, Jag addressed the man in low tones unhearable by the rest of the crew.

"Officer, my ship is clean, my records are clean, and my crew is clean. Now I've put up with your osik on my ship damn near long enough, but when you start pointing guns at my men's kin, well that gets me very...very..angry. And when I get angry, things die. Lots of things. Things like your two-bit clones here. Killed 'em back in the war. Killed 'em by the freighter full. And let me tell you that they havent gotten any harder to kill over the years either. So lets work out a deal you and I. You get you and your men off my boat and give us a clean review, and you have my word that you will leave this ship alive. Tayli'bac?"

The Custom's agent's spine seemed to vanish at the bark of the much larger dog. Motioning the stormtroopers back, the band of Imperials hastily left the Ruusan.

Drawing his blaster and checking its charge, Jag then turned to look at his assembled crew.

"Somebody better get explaining. Because I'm feeling a trifle violent at the moment."