A few hours later an automated voice began blaring over the internal comms. The station went to dark mode, with red lights only. -
"Evacuate the station. Evacuate the station. This is not a drill. Repeat - This is not a drill. All Serpentis assets are to head to Milford and await clearance to return."
The message looped and repeated, and soon the distinctive warans and fighter craft, with their Alliance insignias proudly emblazoned, began their exodus to the nearby jumphole. The remainder, slightly above minimum crew levels, set to work to remove any incriminating graffiti and markings. The station would be combed from top to bottom in preparation on the impending inspection.
Jimmy was fortunate, due to his mask he had widely remained anonymous. This would allow him to oversee things on the station, and allow his partner to pose as the "real" Oyster Creek administrator. She had been so brave so far, he thought wistfully.
He still had work to do. He had to make sure the false papers matched as much as possible to the station's layout, and display non-incriminating information. The Xeno transponder was replaced with a Zoner code, largely copied from the Freeport in Bering. Trouble with Zoner friend/foe transmitters was that the Zoners had a habit of changing the encryption suddenly - what could be a legitimate signal one day could signal treachery the very next. With this in place, he told Deidre to submit the papers, while he worked on loading the lawful faction's docking codes. He would blame any discrepancies on atmospheric conditions.
He almost couldn't believe what he was doing. These people had hunted his brethren without mercy, and here he was holding the door ajar for them. He felt the bile rise in the back of his throat, but quickly choked it down. Such was the price of his illegal den in Texas.
"It's just for the week, it's just for the week..." He mumbled to himself repeatedly as he and his partner frantically worked on erasing any trace the Xenos had used the station up until this point.
