He was spoken to, but the Stormtrooper didn't have much of a response to give outside of a status ping and the slightest nod of his head. The deeper into the station they went, the older and more decrepit it appeared- up until they came out into something of an office room, body bags lining the floor, laid out in an unorganized fashion, some of which weren't even closed and sealed, the deceased faces of citizens aboard the station staring blankly up at the ceiling. This was nothing new to Ferren, he'd seen stuff like this before, but the looks on some of their faces? Open-mouthed screams frozen to their faces, their skin appearing far more decayed than the ones around them, as though they'd been dead for months. Even some of their eyes had either sunken into the depths of their skulls, or had fallen out somewhere completely.
It was enough to make even the grizzled veteran's stomach churn uncomfortably, and was more than thankful for a chance to leave the room, as ordered by Shadow.
Their next objective was finding a door jack, and one look at said blast door clearly showed that it was faring a lot better than the rest of the station. Aside from a smear of blood left on its surface by the hand of someone long gone, the blood dried to a near-black, it was holding up just fine. His gaze fell upon Aarum, their eyes locking for a moment- or at least the equivalent to them wearing helmets and turning slightly to acknowledge one another's existence. Again, Ferren merely gave a slight nod opposed to speaking, letting Aarum silently know he was more than ready to head to the baggage's office. Clearly they were near some sort of port or transit if the baggage offices were located so closely- the port or transit could even be right behind the door they needed to open, and if that were the case, there would most likely be something of interest within, let that be the New Republic, more civilians, or whatever it was that had done all of this, if it wasn't the New Republic's doing.
Stepping over a few of the body bags, Ferren took point, naturally keeping his E-11 trained ahead as he cautiously made his way through the room to the door leading into the room they'd been ordered to investigate. The door in question was in a much worse state than the blast door they desired to go through. It clearly had surface damage, as though somebody had tried knocking it down with a siege hammer- which would have been a useless effort anyway, considering the doors were designed to slide apart, two parts that split down the middle. Just like the blast door, blood lined its surface, though less of a hand brush and more of small, erratic splatters.
But as they neared the door, the left side slid open with difficulty, and the right side moved, but could budge barely an inch, leaving it to move back, and try again, hitting against a barrier on the other side where the metal had been bent so harshly that the door couldn't even open all the way. Just as they were about to pass through, something occurred to Ferren and he held an arm out to lightly slap Aarum's chest, alerting his attention, before gesturing to the dents on the door. "Seem a little high to you?" He asked. Indeed, the dents weren't mid-section-level, as would be normal if a siege hammer had been used. Instead, the dents were at eye level, as though somebody with a very thick skull had bashed their head repeatedly against the door, even leaving splats of black blood along its surface.
His unease increased.
