Jacque let out a soft groan as he rubbed the back of his head gingerly. Even with Ficer's warning he hadn't reacted quick enough to properly brace himself as the [i]Milano[/i] tore ass out of the inspection station, the result was the human's brand new lump courtesy of the back of his head having a sudden and violent meeting with a wall. Thankfully there didn't appear to be any serious damage, neither to him nor to the ship's newest addition. After shaking his head to try and clear the pain a bit, Jacque went to plant a foot firmly onto Tr'ann's back and brought up his comm, "[b]Copy that Fixer. Kruss is, well, being Kruss, so I don't think we should expect any word from him until the heat dies down. If you can focus on getting us the hell out of here and getting our defenses up, I'll see if I can do something about our new friend.[/b]".

He had a feeling that Fixer wouldn't be too happy with that sort of pressure being placed on him, however he also figured that given the nature of the situation the droid's desire to live would override any desires to complain until they were out of the shit. Clipping the comm link back to his belt Jacque glanced down at the Chagrian beneath his foot and wondered what could be done with the alien. More complex plans would have to wait until thins weren't so crazy, but for the time being at least the answer was obvious. Jacque knelt down and pressed his knee into the small of Tr'ann's back. Wait came next wasn't a smarmy one liner, threat, or demand. What came next was a good old fashioned beating. The human wailed on the back of Tr'ann's head until he felt that the odds of the inspection officer waking up to cause problems at the worst possible moment were nil. 

Following this Jacque scooped up the discarded carbine and gave it a thorough once over. Once he was satisfied that the weapon didn't appear as though it would blow up in his hands he slipped into the lower deck of the ship. This was where another one of his skills as a smuggler began to come into play. Due to his size many people would have likely believed it to be near impossible for Jacque to be silent when he moved. He certainly played into it well enough, alternating between the slow and almost leisurely 'thumping' steps and thunderous stomps based on the situation at hand. Now it was different; his steps where controlled and precise, each foot cautiously placed down in front of the other only when he was certain that he wouldn't give away his position. 

It made for a bit of a slow going, as his bulk could still very well betray him it he moved too quickly in the narrow corridors. The dead bodies he was forced to step over certainly didn't help matters either. Somewhere further down there was a clanging noise as though something had just been dropped, he stopped in his tracks and craned his neck to see if he could hear a voice. There was a muffled sound, not entirely unlike the sounds a person made when talking. Raising the carbine in his hands into a ready position Jacque moved once more, delving deeper into the bowels of the [i]Milano[/i].