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Morris breaks out in a big smile. He says excitedly, "They are? That's fantastic! Oh, I'm so relieved." He glances around. "I think I'll find a quiet room somewhere and contact them. It'd be great to talk to them again. If you can hold the fort here, I won't be long...." He gets up to go.
The tiny detail would've been easy to ignore. Once Nia catches it, she almost halts mid-stride before managing to keep her pace. "Hold on. You say 'still one lifesign,' Ensign? When the captain gave me a rundown of the situation, she told me Collins had reported the mainframe had two guards around it." She lowers her voice as they near their destination. "There was a lot for me to absorb in only five minutes prep time, so did I hear wrong? Did Singh not have the latest info? Or did we really lose one guy in between sensor readings?"
She swivels her head to take in Rangin. "While I'm at it, Rangin: You were dealing with Krako's men the longest so your opinion's worth more than mine. What's your take on their motive for ditching us despite claiming they'd be our backup?"
"This is very considerate of you, Dr. T'Var," Kylah says, willing herself to pull herself together and seem less on-edge than she is. "I admit it has been...challenging...to handle the emotions clamoring for attention in my mind, after a week of utter silence. Certain visceral stimuli seem to make it worse. The music unintentionally reminded me of a disturbing incident in my past. I had been enjoying it until dancing with Mr. Graham, connecting with him... The vulnerability to feeling overwhelmed is worse when there is skin-to-skin contact. I will simply have to avoid it as best I can, and I should be fine. That will be my strategy until... things return to normal."
The inevitable question leaps to her and she cannot help asking: "Unless, doctor... do you think it is possible I will never be normal again?" Kylah's voice breaks slightly and she clears her throat to rid herself of its shakiness. "Is there any way of determining what lies ahead, if we do not know what caused this anomaly in the first place?"
"I thought Collins had reported there was just one guard," Rangin says. "If I got that wrong, ma'am, my apologies. In any event, there's just one lifesign down there now." The Starfleet team is now at the top of the stairs leading to the basement. "And as for these gangsters... I just don't know. I wouldn't trust them any farther than I could throw them."
T'Var says, "That is difficult to say, Ensign. With further study anything is possible. Do not lose hope, and I will do my best to help you, come what may."
Just as Kylah and T'Var are about to enter the ladies' room, the Communications officer sees Cledd Okmyx enter the lobby, talking to another man.
"I appreciate your patience and support, doctor," Kylah says with a sigh. "I wish... I just wish I did not need to call upon them."
Her attention is wrested from her colleague to Cledd Okmyx. She gives a little start and murmurs under her breath, "He is here," just in case the Vulcan did not get a good look at the photograph from earlier. Facing the president's son, Kylah examines him quickly to see if she can gauge his mood. If she senses that he is not in an aggressive or hostile frame of mind, she will take a small step forward and nod her head deferentially, greeting him with a shy smile. "Good evening, Mr. Okmyx."
Nia nods distractedly at Rangin. "All right," she says in a quieter voice, slowing to a halt. "What can you tell about the basement, if your tricorder can distinguish any sense of the layout. Garcia, you were skulking around down here, so you might have something to add too. If we go downstairs, is this one big cellar, or do the stairs lead to a hallway full of doors waiting for us? Any egress you know about? Maybe Krako's crew told you something about it before I got here? Basically I wanna know if there's a place to hide so we can tail this guy. After we transport that mainframe I doubt he'll stay in one place, especially if he really is alone. Usually easier for two people to wait something out than just one with nothing but his thoughts to keep him company. Rawlings'll back me up on that."
Before she forgets, she pulls out her communicator again. "Onn to Nguyen. Time to put you on the spot again--this time with the Federation mainframe being held in the building's basement. Can you be ready to grab that on my signal?"
"Whoa, whoa," Graham says, leaning forward, lowering voice, and putting a hand on Morris' arm.
"Easy...the last thing we want is the sole un-secured member of the CAG going off somewhere along where the bad guys can grab you. Bad guys who are probably pretty pissed right now."
Graham nods his head toward the chair. He find Morris' reaction a bit...odd. Unless he's got family or a significant other in the group, there's no need to go all giddy...
Morris' behavior lends credence to what he took to be suspicion on Kylah's part.
But in any event, suspicion or no, rank or no, he's the ranking Security officer on the scene and the one non-hostage running off on his own is out of the fucking question.
"Give us a bit to figure out a sound security protocol...a location we can be sure you're safe and secure, and, hopefully, not being listened to, once the Doc and Kylah get back. And we'll figure out a way you can contact your, ah, team."
Cledd and the other man are across the lobby, heading away from the main entrance. Kylah would have to purposefully walk over in order to speak with him.
The other three stop with Onn. Rangin develops a schematic of the basement on his tricorder. There are the stairs down, a large room at the foot of the stairs, and four smaller rooms, all more or less the same size, opening off of it. The lifesign is in the large room, along with the mainframe. There is a small, narrow entryway, apparently a tube or chute, directly from the alley into one of the smaller rooms, but it is too small for a person to go through.
Garcia says, "'Skulking around'? I didn't go all the way down there, ma'am, and neither did Mr. Collins - she just scanned it, too."
From orbit, Chief Nguyen says, "Acknowledged, ma'am. I have a lock on the portable computer and can beam it out whenever you like."
Morris hears Graham out and frowns. "Maybe you're right. OK, I'll wait." He seems to have an idea, then glances around. "You know what, better yet, I'll just text them. I'll cover it with my hat. It's dark enough in here, I don't think anyone will notice."
After Kylah tells T'Var that the person who just entered the lobby is Cledd Okmyx, she sees that he is too far across the lobby to address. Unwilling to be so obvious as to rush toward an apparent stranger for no reason, Kylah reluctantly remains by T'Var's side. Whether T'Var continues into the ladies' room or decides it is prudent to return to the main room, Kylah will follow her.
Garcia's curious defensiveness amuses Nia, and after she acknowledges Nguyen's reply she lifts her palm to placate the Communications officer. "At ease, Mr. Garcia, I didn't mean to imply anything nefarious. I just knew you'd spent a lot of time 'downstairs' and away from Collins and Rangin--or at least, that's what I was told. Seems like my report wasn't as accurate as I'd hoped. Heads will roll, I assure you." She casts a wry glance at Double-T before returning to Garcia. "And that's a joke as well, in case it wasn't clear."
The thought suddenly occurs to her that Garcia might be hypersensitive about anything that even hints that he's been slacking off or derelict in his duty--given what the ship's rumor mill says about his having been chastised for allegedly leaving a certain Elasian trouble-magnet in the lurch back during the Omicron Ceti III spa mission.
If so, that's his problem, not hers. "Anyway. Good work on the layout, Rangin. Doesn't seem like there's an obvious exit except for that chute or pipe deal. And unless our friend is some kinda shapeshifter who can take the form of a tribble, he's outta luck. Still, that alley makes me think..." Nia's fingers stroke her lower lip for a second while she mulls things over. Then she takes in both Garcia and Rangin. "Okay. You're the only two of us who've been outside the building. You think you can find the alley in question and take position somewhere you can see it without being seen in return? This way if there is some kinda egress we can't identify, like a street-level window maybe, at least we'll be covered for the unexpected."
She nods at the largest man in the room... hell, probably the largest man in any room in the near vicinity. "Double-T, we each need to find a place where we can lurk... or should I say, skulk..." Nia grins wickedly but without malice toward Garcia. "Anywhere we can safely see Anonymous Gangster #4 once he leaves. If you think we're both a bit too noticeable together... split us up according to your best strategic instincts. One of us can wait outside but within sight of the front entrance, and one somewhere in sight of the stairwell exit. Or whatever you think's the right move."
She looks at the group. "Questions? Suggestions?"
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T'Var glances over at the younger Okmyx and raises an eyebrow. "Shall we go say hello? We could pretend to be... admirers."
Before the others can respond to Onn, a suited Iotian comes pounding up the stairs. Garcia recognizes him as one of Zabo's men with whom he had been waiting in the alley earlier, and whispers that to Onn.
The man says, "One of Cledd's gunsels just came out of the building, jumped in his car and drove off in a hurry. What's going on?"
Kylah agrees with T'Var and, following her original inclination, walks over to the two men, hoping to catch up with them without being too obvious. She will try to get Mr. Okmyx's attention via a light brush of his sleeve and by softly saying his name with a smile.
Dammit! That's just bloody great. This possibility is precisely why Nia wanted Garcia to stay down in the car. She can't help the aggravated grunt escaping from her throat, but recovers quickly. "Thanks for the update. Did anyone follow him, I hope? Or recognize him, for that matter? And have you seen Zabo and the other two who were with him? They disappeared." Even though they were supposedly so adamant about staying nearby while she and the others undertook the extraction. So what the hell was that about?
Cledd glances away from the other man as T'Var and Kylah walk up, looks away for a moment, then turns back and focuses on them. "Hello, sweetheart," he says, smiling wolfishly. "Do I know you?"
The mook tells Onn, "I think it was Yelek. Telo is following him in one car. I've got another car waiting, if you want."
Zabo and his other mooks come up behind Onn and her party, having now left the apartment into which Onn had beamed down, their guns at the ready. Zabo says, "Telo just called me by radio and told me what's going on. You wanna follow the guy?"
Cledd's expression puts Kylah on alert. Every time she tries to be friendly, men seem to think she is seeking sexual attention. What am I doing wrong? She swallows and maintains her smile. "No, sir, not yet," she says in a pleasant but--hopefully--not flirtatious manner. She quickly introduces herself and "Miss T'Var" -- omitting the title, as she is uncertain whether it is usual for a woman to be in the medical profession here. Then she adds: "But I--we--know you. At least, we know of you, given your well-known name and ownership of this lovely nightclub. It is an honor to meet you."
Nia looks at Rangin, since he knows these people better than she does. As far as she's concerned they have little choice but to accept Zabo's offer, assuming they want to track these guards. Then she answers Zabo directly.
"It'd be a huge help if you can keep getting updates on Yelek's position. Meanwhile, there's another man downstairs who was probably left behind after his pal ran. Since you've got someone following Yelek, I'd like to take this one into custody and see if we can get answers from him." Her attention shifts to Rawlings. "You think that'll be useful? Kind of makes him a hostage, since we don't exactly have jurisdiction, but he does seem to have taken part in kidnapping Starfleet personnel, so I think we can justify it."
Of course, Nia has to ask herself: justify it? To who, anyway? What's the law like down on this planet? Do they have any official police force, or just gangsters running around obeying the president? Whatever. As long as I can justify it to Singh and Vargas, that's all I care about. She continues to Rawlings, "What do you think--try to follow this second guard or just capture him and see if he can be convinced to give up some info?"
"Likewise, I'm sure," Cledd says, reaching for Kylah's hand.
"Makes sense to me," Rawlings says to Onn. "If we can be sure he won't lose the guy in city traffic...?"
Zabo says confidently, "Telo is good - one of the best. He won't lose him."
Garcia adds, smiling, "Better a bird in hand than two in the bush."
Kylah lets Cledd hold her hand and purposely keeps the connection--it is not her preference but she wants to amplify her sense of his emotions. "I am a newcomer here, but have been doubly honored today," she says boldly. "Earlier I had the extreme pleasure of meeting your father, the President. I understand you are not necessarily following the same path, at least not at the moment." Again eyeing the nightclub before returning to examine Cledd closely, she adds in an admiring murmur, "But to be honest, from what I see here... You have a golden touch of your own."
She glances at his friend and nods. "I beg your pardon for interrupting. I do not suppose..." Her gaze returns to Cledd. "Would it be presumptuous of me, or a waste of your time, if I were to ask to join you for a--a drink? With Miss T'Var and your friend, it would make a pleasant foursome."
Satisfied, Nia nods. "Okay, let's get this moving then. Zabo, is there any risk in your being seen as part of our group? I wonder... what about a little scam here? What if..."
Her thoughts coalesce into something more solid as she speaks. "What if we take this guy into custody, just the four of us--" She gestures toward herself and her three crew members--"and attempt to get some intel off him. I can't imagine he'll be cooperative off the bat. But then, how about you boys show up looking for some revenge or payback or whatever... Then we 'defend' him against you. To make it look really good, you could threaten him and I can stun you--it won't hurt, I'll put my weapon on the lowest setting and you'll just be out for a few minutes. This way we'll get a chance to talk to him after having allegedly saved his life--he'll owe us, and might realize he's better off with us than loose with the Krako coalition on his tail. What do you think?"
Kylah, by touch, gets a strong sense of Cledd's cunning and willfulness. It is not a pleasant impression. He says, "That sounds great." He introduces the man with him as Yeg Okmyx, his cousin and advisor, and waves over the maître d'. "Peln, show these ladies to my table, please. We'll be there shortly."
The maître d' leads Kylah and T'Var back into the main room and to a slightly larger table right next to the dance floor. He snaps his fingers and a waiter makes a beeline for them. Kylah can see Graham and Morris at their table; Morris is just getting up from his seat. Neither has noticed the women's return to the room.
Zabo smiles at Onn. "I like it. Always good to put one over on one of Okmyx's bully boys, y'know?"
Graham stifles a frown, preferring to maintain radio silence in any event and worrying at least just a little bit that Morris might be up to something less than good.
But without any evidence he's not on very solid ground to tell a senior officer what to do...
"OK, make it quick and down-low," he says, with little enthusiasm. "And then keep your eyes out for Cledd. Or at least Kylah and T'Var, before we wind up missing our guy or scattered all over the club."
He leans back in his chair but then sits up extra-straight and cranes his neck to look around the club.
Glad to have her hand released, Kylah follows Peln to the table and waits for T'Var to sit before she chooses her own chair. Perhaps she did not do the right thing in soliciting an invitation from Cledd--she has no plan whatsoever except to learn something about him. She murmurs to T'Var, "Did you have an idea in mind after meeting him? He is a dangerous man. That is not news to us, but I felt a certain... recklessness..."
She shakes her head inarticulately when the waiter appears. "Some light cocktail, please," she says, uncertain what the local drinks would be here. "Whatever is best here."
After ordering, she tries to look nonchalantly around at the other guests without giving away that her real target is Mr. Graham. The first man she recognizes, however, is Lt. Morris who is--for some reason--standing. And Mr. Graham does not seem especially happy about it. Why is Lt. Morris so foolish? He is only calling attention to himself.
A frown creases her brow and, anxious that Mr. Graham does not seem to notice her and T'Var's new seating arrangements, much less the arrival of Cledd Okmyx, she purposely drops her beaded handbag with a clatter. The noise and movement should, she hopes, enable Mr. Graham to spot her sitting with T'Var--and might also alert him to Cledd's arrival.
Nia returns Zabo's smile. Good to see him being a team player--or at least, trying to look like one. "Great. You guys make yourself scarce, but two of you should be ready to meet us in the front entrance with your best game faces on. Uh... this place does have a lobby or, uh, a vestibule of sorts, right? Somewhere big enough for this pretend confrontation?"
She hesitates. "And I do mean pretend, everyone. I'm not saying, Mr. Zabo, that you'd purposely kill whoever this goon is without provocation, but I've been told Iotians tend to let their guns start and finish conversations. So just keep your fingers off the triggers, or... however you use those things."
To the rest of her team, she issues orders for them to flank the exit to the stairwell, with phasers on their lowest setting.
Only once everyone is in place and has agreed to the set-up will Nia lift her communicator and prepare to give the signal for Nguyen to beam out the mainframe. Her gaze meets Rawlings and she winks at him. It's rather enjoyable to be on a mission with him again.
"Understood, Mr. Graham, and thank you," Morris says. "I won't be long." He heads for the curtained doorway, and does not seem to notice Kylah and T'Var.
The waiter tells Kylah, "Certainly. Leave it to me, miss."
The Vulcan healer orders a glass of mineral water and, after the waiter has left, says, "We shall be careful, of course. But if Cledd is responsible for the kidnapping of Starfleet personnel, I thought it better to force an introduction than simply to hope for one. I will let you take the lead on conversing with him, however; you are better at small talk than I." She smiles a little. "No doubt due to your Communications training."
"Don't worry it, dollface," Zabo says to Onn, waving a hand dismissively. "I know when to pretend, and when not to. And yeah, there's a lobby at the front of the building, on the ground floor. See you there soon, eh? Toodles." He and his henchmen leave.
Onn's team reset their phasers on the light-stun setting. Rawlings returns Onn's wink; he seems to be having fun, too.
Graham hears Kylah's handbag fall from where he sits, about six tables away. You make eye contact.
Bending down to pick up her bag, Kylah widens her eyes at Graham and tilts her head in the direction of Cledd and his cousin. Then she delicately points a finger at her table to indicate that the gangsters will be joining her and T'Var.
She resumes her upright position, brushing her hair back and adjusting the purse on her lap. To T'Var, she replies with a laugh--more of a shaky exhale--"Thank you, Doctor, but I am only good at small talk compared to a Vulcan. Your people have no patience for such things, and neither do most of mine." She frowns slightly when she glances back at their former table for just a second.
"I wonder why Lt. Morris left?" she murmurs. "I hope he will be safe. I suppose Mr. Graham would not have allowed it otherwise." Her gaze searches the nightclub to see where Cledd has gone.
Nia watches to make sure the gangsters leave, then returns to her team. "Okay, guys. As I was saying before... Garcia, you take Rawlings with you to the outside alley, on the off-chance that our anonymous pal might take some alternate exit. Rangin and I should be able to handle things here--one stun and he'll stop in his tracks."
She hopes Rawlings knows why she prefers him to be with Garcia. She wants at least one person who knows what he's doing if the guard sneaks out the back way. As for this end of things, she's comfortable paired with Rangin, at least professionally. Little guy or not, he did somehow manage to overpower that murderer back on OCIII. He must have some significant strength... of will, if not muscle.
"So," she finishes, backing up so she won't be immediately visible if the guard rushes upstairs. "You two get in position while Rangin and I do the same here. Then just text me when you're ready, and I'll give the nod to Chief Nguyen to start the next transport. Agreed?"
Graham nods quickly and subtly to Kylah, then looks around.
Goddamnit, I didn't mean for Morris to go running out of sight...Especially now that Cledd's here, he concludes, judging that Kylah and T'Var would be highly unlikely to have arranged to sit down with some other random goons.
He moves in the direction Morris went, intending to corral him and keep the team at the least in pairs.
Cledd is still out in the lobby, Kylah guesses, where she last saw him. Or perhaps he has an office on the premises?
Rawlings says, "Will do," and he and Garcia head outside. Onn soon gets a text indicating they're in position out in the alley.
Without too much searching, Graham finds Morris in a phone alcove just off the lobby, his communicator in hand but shielded by his hat. The Potemkin officer looks up with surprise. "What's wrong?" he asks.
Graham is just about to answer when a man he recognizes as Cledd Okmyx, and another man, pass him on their way towards the main ballroom.
Nia tries to situate herself so that she'll have the best line of sight to where the guard is likely to emerge from the stairwell--but also so that she'll be the least conspicuous to someone in a rush. She gestures to Rangin to do the same. Once the safest angles are determined, she waits to take a deep breath and aim her phaser.
Her gaze checks to make sure that her colleague is ready. If he is, she lifts her communicator. "Onn to Garcia," she says softly. "I'm gonna need both hands for this. So on my mark, take a twenty-second countdown on your own and then transport that mainframe to the ship. Okay?" Another deep breath. "Go."
As swiftly as possible, she shoves the communicator back in her bag, then uses her left hand to help steady her right. The whole time, her mind ticks away the seconds of the countdown she hopes is occurring up in the Yorktown. When she reaches zero, her ears strain to hear any familiar transporter sounds--or anything else--from below.
"Acknowledged, Mr. Onn," Chief Nguyen says from the starship high above. "Ready here. Twenty-second countdown commencing."
Just an instant after Onn's own silent count reaches zero, she hears the familiar transporter effect, slightly muffled, downstairs. Someone squawks and she hears footsteps moving about. Rangin meets her eye and returns his attention down the staircase. In moments they both hear the heavy clomp of footsteps on the wooden steps, coming up.
Her lips a thin line, Nia flicks a look at Rangin and lifts her left palm up in a halt gesture before returning it to its original position. They need to wait until this guy has emerged from the stairwell, or he could just run back downstairs again.
In the final seconds she feels her facial and arm scales emerging--part instinctive protection, part conscious tactics. A reptilian woman clad in a silver fringed dress should be enough to throw the stranger off-guard for at least a second or two. That could be all the advantage they need.
Rangin nods.
A small, sweaty, ratlike man pounds his way up the stairs and into view. He is carrying a Tommy gun.
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The gun complicates things, though Nia isn't surprised he's carrying it. If he's the nervous type--and a look at him indicates he could be--one good scare and he might start spraying bullets in every direction. Time to switch tactics.
She takes a steady breath and retracts her facial scales, then lowers the phaser to her hip, still aimed at him but not as conspicuous, especially to someone who's probably not terribly familiar with what Starfleet weapons look like. Despite the less aggressive stance, her finger is pressed on her phaser's trigger as firmly as possible without actually firing. If he moves that gun with intent to fire she do her best to beat him to the punch.
Hopefully it won't come to that.
"Hey mister, what's the rush?" she says in a smooth, calm voice. "I've been waiting for a guy like you. Let's talk."
Once Cledd and company pass Graham leans in toward Morris, his voice low. "Our boy is in the house...Kylah and T'Var, I think, finagled a spot at his table...C'mon, we need to figure out what we do next." After a brief pause, he adds, "We can't leave them in the lurch...you know more than anybody about local stuff."
He gestures for Morris to follow back into the main room.
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Mr. Rat lurches to a stop and raises his machine gun. "Who the hell are you?" he whines, then stares at her more closely. "What the hell are you?"
Morris's eyes widen. "Right. Of course." He quickly finishes sending a text on his communicator, and follows Graham back into the main room.
Nia's stare at the stranger is cool and unalarmed, though her peripheral vision takes careful notice of the weapon in his grip. "I'm the person who's going to get you out of here alive," she says, still not raising her voice from its mellow tone. "The game's over, fella. The CAG hostages have been returned safely and your cohorts are in custody in our starship flying way up in space. That big machine you were guarding that just disappeared? That's back in our hands too."
She places her free hand on her hip and stretches to her full height. "Yes, I said 'our.' You asked me 'what am I,' and I'll tell you: I'm a Starfleet officer from a planet millions of miles away. As is the guy behind you who's pointing his own version of this weapon right at your back--you can turn your head slowly to check him out, if you like--slowly, mind. That's Ensign Rangin. I'm Lieutenant Onn. Both of the starship the U.S.S. Yorktown."
Nia lifts her phaser slightly. "A blast from one of these weapons can turn you into a pile of ashes before you blink the sweat that's currently dripping from your eyes. If two of us blast you, it'll eliminate even the ashes. However, I'm not gonna hurt you--not if I don't have to. That's not the way we do things. Unless provoked."
After a second's pause, she continues flatly, "But there're others hunting for you who don't have the same scruples. You've made some dangerous enemies, fella. I don't know if you're the mastermind behind this or just some goon who's paid by the hour to watch over a piece of machinery you couldn't begin to understand. Either way, I'm guessing you have information for us, and it's my job to make sure you're alive to give it up to us. Then you'll receive proper justice. Not the kind you get from the Syndicate or even the would-be Feddies run by Krako--neither of which are happy to know that you've angered us.
"Now," Nia says, aiming the phaser at his chest as she'd originally planned. "I can help you avoid them if you help us. And you can start by putting that gun down on the floor. Any other move than that and you'll find out what Federation technology is all about."
"To hell with that!" he says, and brings his Tommy gun up.
The thought Always gotta choose the hard way flashes through her mind as Nia squeezes her phaser trigger to blast the little ferret, targeting his chest.
An instant before the stun beam hits Mr. Rat, he pulls the trigger, narrowly missing Onn with a burst of machine-gun fire which chews up the wooden doorframe and plasterwork of the staircase, scattering splinters and particles of plaster. The noise is deafening, leaving Onn's and Rangin's ears ringing, and there is a strong smell of gunsmoke which lingers.
Mr. Rat falls back down the stairs, his gun dropping from his hands.
Nia has fallen into a crouch, a position she stays in for for a few frozen seconds of recovery even though the gunman is no longer visible. Her heart rate fills her head with pounding nearly as deafening as the bullets.
When her muscles lose enough tension so she can move, she can't help twisting to look at the wreckage to the hall from the gunfire. Next she examines herself, in frank astonishment that she survived.
Gleaming silver scales cover 100% of her body--the process must've happened instinctively thanks to the adrenaline and fear--but she knows they couldn't possibly have protected her from the ammo. From a much farther range, sure, they might've prevented the worst of the damage, but up this close? She might as well have sprouted feathers. If that guy had better aim...
No. Not going there.
She reaches for the dropped gun with trembling fingers and clutches the large, clunky weapon--its hot metal calls up a memory of the arms used back on Sidonia. Then, swiveling to the stairwell as she rises, she aims her phaser downstairs, where she hopes the bastard's head met the floor with a well-deserved clunk.
Despite her stance, her gaze targets Rangin. Of course, he was behind Mr. Rat and the gun, but the spray of bullets might've ricocheted anywhere.
"O-okay?" she asks, her mouth bone-dry. She'd rather have been more articulate, like "Are you all right, Ensign?"... but for now, a single word is all she can manage.
Kylah twists the edge of the tablecloth grazing her lap as she waits for Cledd Okmyx and his cousin to join them--and for Mr. Graham and Lt. Morris to return as well. Because she realizes that her and Dr. T'Var's 'innocent stranger' status will last only as long as it takes for Cledd to recognize Morris and--probably inevitably--for the waiter to inform Cledd that the two women who finagled their way to his table originally came in with the Starfleet crew.
"Yeah," says Rangin, his voice shaky. "Unhurt. I'm... unhurt."
Zabo and two mooks come running from the front lobby, guns at the ready. "You two OK?" Zabo says, after a glance downstairs.
Onn's communicator pulses.
Cledd and Yeg Okmyx come to the table in the main ballroom, sitting down with Kylah and T'Var. Cledd snaps his fingers even as an attentive waiter swoops in, ordering champagne. "So what brings you to the Paramount, ladies?" Cledd asks.
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"All right," Graham says to Morris, "let's play it cool. Stay on the other side of me, since Clegg might recognize you."
He grimaces slightly, trying to look nonchalant while throwing a glance toward Clegg's table.
"Let's move casually in that direction, but see if Kylah or T'Var give us a sign."
Or need help, he thinks.
Kylah swallows and tries on a friendly smile. "The Paramount's charms are enough to bring anyone with discernment to its doors, sir. Mr. Okmyx," she corrects herself. "We had heard of you, and that this was a popular spot for someone seeking a pleasurable evening. And the reputation is well deserved. You should be proud. The décor, the service, the music... Everything is so lovely and stimulating." Her smile turns warmer. "This probably sounds like mere flattery, but I assure you I am sincere."
Her sketchy memory of this Terran era tries to conjure up conversation-starters. "I see that this is a well-sized dance room. But the building seems large enough to house even more features than I have seen thus far. Are there other ways for customers to enjoy themselves? Gaming--that is, a casino, perhaps? Private rooms for special events?" Kylah tries to keep her gaze from flickering when she sees, in the periphery, Mr. Graham at the entrance from the lobby.
Glad that Rangin's okay, though she's kinda dying to know if that phaser of his got any use, Nia takes a deep breath to steady herself--which doesn't work as well as expected. A quick mental calculation makes her grit her teeth in understanding. Her body's increased heart rate and bursts of adrenaline are taxing her bloodstream's normally efficient storage of Bilitrium. She's 24 hours away from her next dose, so it's hardly an emergency, but it's annoying as hell.
Seht'Dar's holy balls, she seethes mentally while staring among Rangin, Zabo, his goons, and the rat downstairs. Give me more to worry about, why don't you?
The frustration flares and dies like a dud firecracker, and she shakes it off. Screw it. I want command, I'm gonna have to command. She sucks in her breath a second time and, with a nod, uses her hand to wave Zabo the hell away. "We're fine, thanks," she whispers. "He didn't go quietly. Now please get back in position, will you? All we need is for this braintrust down there to wake up and see us working together."
But she hesitates and contradicts her own words by grabbing Zabo's lapel and yanking him over to the stairwell. "One thing first," she whispers. "Take a look. You recognize that guy?"
Waiting for him to obey--hopefully discreetly--she leans the machine gun against the wall and pulls out her communicator to see who else needs her attention.