Navarre walked through the plush corridors of the station; a vast contrast to what he had been accustomed to aboard Klingon vessels. He kept his senses alert, catching passing conversations and the various types of clothing. "A system wide lock down for inspections." The captain of a starfleet vessel was saying to his crewman. "This close to the outer frontier regions allows for lots of contraband coming across." "There are many reports indicating that there are various black market operations within the region." The Vulcan replied evenly. "Though we may detain many smugglers, unless there is a constant Starfleet presence it would be of little significance in deterring such markets from continuing to flourish." He started to key in on a pair of crewman from another vessel, when a blonde haired woman hurried past him. He almost stumbled over his own foot at this point. He was still not accustomed to seeing human women in uniform or moving about freely. He chuckled to himself with a shake of his head. Their lock down did not concern him, since there was nothing aboard his ship, and it was going to take a few days to get a return on his privateer permits and licensing. In the meantime, all he had to do was lay low and stay out of any entanglements.