AGP- Palletmobile

Way down in the black market warehouse, Aimy and Tink put the finishing touches on the cargo pallet. Said pallet looked nothing like the one that had left the Occurrence Border: for one thing it was much fuller than it used to be, the stack of crates on it was nearly three meters tall, and they were held in place by dozens of straps and tarps. Because this was far more weight than the pallet could handle, or anyone wanted to push around, a few grav-plates had been scrounged from the warehouse by Nubby, and more or less randomly slapped on. Finally, the treaded bottom half the warehouse's cargo servitor had been fastened on as an incredibly grisly external motor. The thing looked horrible, with a coat of red paint and a few stubbers you could pass it off as an Ork Trakk, but it handled surprisingly well.
...

Our trip through the station was shockingly swift, stealthy, and professional. At least for certain values of "stealthy" and "professional", but there's no debating the "swift" part, or the "shocking" for that matter. Since our dismembered-servitor propulsion system was capable of pushing the loot pallet at speeds best described as "unsafe", we piled onto it and sped through the corridors like… Well, like a bunch of drunken guardsmen on leave.

Thanks to the maps provided by the Cogitator Adept, the scouting abilities of Spot the Wonder Drone, and a plasma-gun-enabled disregard for inconveniently placed doors and walls, we took a very direct and underpopulated route to the medbay. That's not to say that we didn't run into anyone on our trip, but thanks to Spot and Fumbles, we generally saw them before they saw us.

We managed to avoid or sneak by a few potential witnesses, as well as some Mercs and Security officers. Others were handled by sucker-punches and the application of Tink's not-actually-a-power-weapon Power Wrench. When that wasn't an option, we had Fumbles cloak us, or edit a few memories, though sometimes this didn't work either, and a more efficient approach was called for. Violence was only our last resort mind you, it's not like we were some sort of high speed murder-barge shooting down the Station's corridors with no regard for collateral damage, innocent lives, or speed limits. At least not most of the time.

Anyway, if you disregard maimings, psychic trauma, property damage, and other little things like that, our expedition was practically bloodless. Which is to say that there were DEFINITELY under 10 deaths, and most of those were Mercs and Bounty Hunters, and everyone knows they don't really count. Oh, and the maintenance worker that got ran over by the loot-pallet really should've known to look both ways before entering such a long and obstruction-free corridor, and had probably been drunk anyway.