The normally brightly lit office of the Quartermaster was as dark as a deep cavern. Heavy drapes covered the windows, and the only lights currently on were set at a low level, barely providing enough illumination to show the outlines of the sparse furnishings. Ten guards stood along the walls in groups of two; standing still, they looked to be statues in the dim lighting.

Han paused near the door with his trailing Republic forces, his eyes taking in the room, all doors leading into and out of the area, possible cover, and the positions of the security guards.

"Now, how can I be of service," the Quartermaster inquired. His words were pleasant, but his expression remained as cold and immobile as stone.

"We'll need a complete listing of all current defenses," Han explained.

"Why?" the Quartermaster questioned, making no move from where he stood by the desk, arms folded across his chest.

"In order to know what is needing to be strengthened the most, we'll need a complete overview of your current capabilities," Han replied.

"How do I know this isn't a trick to undermine our security?" the Quartermaster inquired. His eyes narrowed. "If you've gone over to the First Order, you could be trying to get access to our defenses in order to know what you'll need to conquer this world. No, I will not give you our files."

"If we're not wanted, we'll be on our way," Han suggested, taking a step toward the door.

"I don't think so," the Quartermaster countered. He snapped his fingers, and the guards waiting around the room stepped away from the walls in order to aim their blaster rifles at Han and his people. "Since we don't know where your loyalties truly lie in this time of conflict, we will have to hold you until such time as a determination can be made. Resistance of any kind will be considered clear evidence of your treason against the Republic, and my soldiers will shoot to kill."

"Why don't you drop the pretense?" Han suggested. "My loyalties are well known, and have been for years. Your loyalties were previously to the Empire, so your resistance to Republic orders as well as commanding the arrest or outright execution of Republic officials tells me it's you who switched sides and is now working for the First Order. It's why the streets and skyways are clear. You don't want any of your new friends being seen and giving anything away, but it didn't work. You're not fooling anyone."

"As you wish," the Quartermaster accepted. Turning to his guards, "Kill them."

The order had barely left the Quartermaster's mouth before Han's blaster cleared the holster and took aim. The first shot hit the Quartermaster in the chest and dropped him dead to the floor on his back. Blaster fire was also exchanged between the Republic soldiers and the Corellian guards. Han put down a few enemies himself, and when the shooting stopped, the Quartermaster's forces had been eliminated, but two of the Republic squad had also been killed, leaving only six to flee with Han as the alarms began to sound.

The military guards lining the hallway opened up on the Republic forces the moment they came into view. Another fierce volley of fire was exchanged, missing shots sparking as they impacted the surrounding walls and floor and left burning holes behind.

Han pulled a grenade from his pocket and tossed it around the corner toward where the opposing troops blocked the corridor. An explosion came a moment afterwards, shaking the entire floor. Han glanced around the corner and found the hallway blackened by the fiery detonation, dead enemies sprawled across the floor or slumped against the walls where they'd been thrown by the blast.

"Go!" Han ordered, and his troops followed his lead in a sprint toward their ship.

Han heard a door hiss open behind them, and almost immediately, blaster fire was chasing after his forces. Another Republic guard was hit and went down. Han gritted his teeth and forced himself to continue running. Security forces from other floors would be converging on the battle location, further outnumbering Han's dwindling number of soldiers. The opening through which Han and his people could escape was rapidly closing.

"Fleet, this is Solo," Han shouted into his comlink as he ran. "Full alert; we're under attack. Prepare for hyperspace jump as soon as we're back aboard."

Han put the comlink back on his belt without waiting for a reply. The final turn was just ahead, and he dropped into a slide across the floor, taking two Corellian guards waiting in ambush by surprise and shooting them both before they could respond. Getting back to his feet, Han raced out of the Quartermaster's building and toward the landing pad.

Blaster fire rained down on the fleeing Republic forces from the upper floors of the building they'd escaped. The distance to their intended targets made the aim of the Corellian security poor, but the amount of firepower being directed toward the Republic troops more than compensated. Three more Republic soldiers were killed, further diminishing the number remaining with Han to two.

A familiar scream of TIE fighter engines filled the air before the First Order ships came into view. They banked hard around the tall building to the east before sweeping down upon the fleeing troops, green lasers stitching blackened craters across the ground. One hit close enough to knock Han sideways, dumping him to the ground.

Han struggled to his feet. The world around him was blurred by his unfocused vision and choked with smoke from blaster impacts. His ears rang, muffling all other sound. Only one soldier remained standing, and blood was dripping from between the fingers he had pressed over his abdomen.

While the TIE fighters turned to make a second strafing run, the guards inside the Quartermaster's building charged out into the open, blasters firing.

"Get to the shuttle," the soldier told Han while turning to face the oncoming opponents, blaster raised in his free hand. "It won't be long before those TIEs go after the shuttle. Move!"

Han couldn't argue the point and didn't waste time trying. His leg was hurting from some unseen injury, causing a slight limp. With all the determination he could muster, Han staggered the last of the distance to the shuttle and fell through the open hatch.