"Sir, no sir" the droid replied "the compartment is filled juzzt with standardd Machinery, Sir" Fixer was trying to be polite and invisible. Howewer, as he had anticipated, the FO crew hadn't seen a B1 not even in propaganda commercials. So they looked at him like some sort of bug. Green and methallic. The droid opened the compartment and allowed the imperial to find out themselves that what he just said was true: there were nothing illegal in that space. It had harboured no un-authorized product for about two whole days, in fact. A small record. 

The officials then ordered him to show them the foodstock store-box. "Roger-Roger" He answered and, opressing an old and inner urge to bring his gun and shot the two soldiers down for good, he obligued. "We have cocoa replacements and that new blue milk that is in fashion now... but i've checked it twice and I'm pretty sure it's all legal in all but one or two independent systems" he said as a form of servilness. "And please, avoid the right side of ze corridor: wires fall from time to time, and are high voltage. I keep trying to fix it but it somehow resists. I Need fresh parts from koenysar, at least a new hatchet's door... till we can buy a new one, everything I do to solve it is only temporal"

Of course, Fixer's intent was to introduce into the human's brains the idea that illegal goods smugglers would certainly have the money to make such a small raparation. 

Of course, they could be too dumb to even notice.