Lambert looked through the gloom of the lower deck work area, trying to pick out any details that might be unusual. There wasn't much - plenty of ruddy faces, indeterminable bits of scrap, and the unending grinding of the machinery. The smoke generated by their work took a while to dissipate near the ceiling - likely a sign of poorly maintained air scrubbers. Here and there Lambert even thought he could see duct tape or glue holding key pieces of equipment together.
After a moment, he reluctantly stepped back from the threshold, satisfied that there was nothing readily apparent that seemed out of the ordinary.
"Very well. Not the cleanest operation I've ever seen, but I know the scrap around here can be worth some good credits."
He looked back one more time, then let out a long breath as he turned back to Deidre. "I believe that's all I need to see. Let's head back up to the bay."
His work done, he now wanted nothing more than to be away from this god-forsaken place. Despite that resolution, the feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach refused to go away.