Up in the control rooms of the Wheel, small red lights flickered on one by one. Control technicians spotted the warnings and traced it to chemical anomalies found by sensors across a section of the Wheel's air filtration and ventilation systems. A quick glance at the data sent by the sensors brought concern to the various professionals inside the control station and, after a brief moment of deliberation, the decision was made.
"Shut down the vent system in sector twelve and then seal the sector," ordered the Control Manager. It was a standard precaution that each area of the Wheel, much like any space station, could be individually sealed from the rest of the station. This prevented catastrophic loss of atmosphere throughout the entire station and confined the depressurization to a specific area for assessment and repairs.
In Sector 12, the doors leading to sectors 11 and 13 dropped down and sealed shut. Guests attempting to travel along the station were denied access and Wheel Security began the usual placation of the masses. Meanwhile, emergency signs began flickering on across the sector while holodisplays changed from their usual ads and commercials to their red emergency coloring. Each one giving the same message, urging guests to stay calm and divert to the nearest emergency station where respiration gear could be handed out. It was standard safety protocol throughout the galaxy and, thankfully, Popo had made sure his stations followed
all of their safety standards to the utmost degree.
As for the Hutt himself, Popo resided in his office within his suite far atop the spire of the Wheel. As the situation developed, he calmly glanced through the reports and skimmed the data stream. At first, it looked like a standard, but rare, case of perhaps coolant or some other chemical accidentally finding its way into the air system of Sector 12. However, he knew the layout of the Wheel almost as well as some of his chief engineers with multiple decades upon the station. Sector 12 was near no pipelines or gas mains capable of those chemicals, which meant it was possibly deliberate.
The Shell Hutt mused to himself silently for a few seconds. It could be a few punk youths with some idea of a bad prank, but it could also be an attack as well. With the rise of terrorism from groups such as the so called Rebel Alliance and other organizations, it could very well be a deliberate act of terrorism, which would prove... problematic for profits. A moment or two more of thought yielded a slight shrug from the Hutt's massive shoulders.
Better to be safe than sorry.
He keyed his comm link on the desk and waited until it patched through to the head of his
Wheel Security division.
"Pryke," came a voice bearing the easily identifiable accent of Concord Dawn.
"Commander Pryke," began Popo, his deep voice easily and immediately recognizable. He could almost sense Pryke's spine straighten marginally if that was even possible of the hardbitten and strict Mandalorian. "Sector 12 has a contamination issue in the air ducts. Safety protocols are in effect and the sector is sealed. It could be an accident, it could be prankster juveniles with a poor taste in humor, but with the rise of terrorist attacks in the galactic west, nothing is to be ruled out. Take a squad or two and investigate it. I'll send the sensor data and detection times shortly. It should let you pinpoint the source of the problem."
"Yes, sir."
"Oh, and take that Freelancer with you. Laith, I think his name is? He might be useful. Keep in contact with command. If
HWK-I finds anything useful, we'll send you a face to look for."
With that, Popo closed the connection and went back to his paperwork. With luck, it would all be sorted quickly and life on his space station would go back to normal.
[member="Ermac Laith"] [member="Char-Li Luzerei"] [member="Sifa Tirel"]
