Star Trek RPG - Mission #5: "Of Captains and Capos"

Graham and Morris ease back into the main ballroom. Kylah can see them at once. Graham sees his two shipmates sitting with two tuxedoed Iotians.

T'Var strikes up a quiet conversation with Yeg, but Kylah can't hear it. Yeg actually seems quite taken with the Vulcan.

"Gaming, private rooms, a coupla bars, yeah, sure - we got all of that," the young Okmyx boasts to Kylah, clearly proud of his domain. "And lots more. It's the best place in the city, bar none."

Onn is unsure, given how quickly everything happened and the noise of - and debris from the bullets of - the machine gun, if Rangin fired his phaser.

Zabo says of the unmoving guy on the stairs, "Yeah, that's Pon Yommyx. He's one of Cledd's boys."

Rawlings is on the other end of Onn's communicator: "We heard gunfire - you OK in there? Want us to come back in?"

Kylah nods and appears impressed. "I believe you," she says, looking around in admiration before her gaze rests on him. Her aim is to flatter and show interest without crossing the line into flirtation. Despite her conversation with Mr. Kalo earlier, she does not know Cledd Okmyx's behavior toward women, and is unsure how to act without causing anything... untoward.

There is no real danger; after all, Mr. Graham and Dr. T'Var are right here. But she does not wish to require their assistance. She is an adult who should be able to handle herself and--for once--make correct choices so that she can contribute to the mission.

"With this club doing so well, do you plan to build others like it? Or do your goals lie in other areas?" Afraid that she is erring too much on the side of an interrogation, she lets her smile turn playful. "Of course, you must have other interests. How do you most enjoy spending your time?"

Nia blinks at the sound of Rawlings's voice. Oh. Yeah. Double-T and Garcia. Forgot about them. What the hell is going on with her? Since when does a little danger turn her brain into mush? She scowls at herself. "We're all good. But yes, come back in and join us. Our boy's not going anywhere."

She flips the communicator shut and first focuses on Rangin. "Better head downstairs and make sure he's not concussed or anything. I'll be right with you." She turns to Zabo. "Thanks for the I.D., not to mention rushing to our rescue." Her smile is almost sheepish. "Probably should've thanked you for that before. Now, if you're still willing, I'd like to go ahead with the fakeout plan. Gotta earn back some trust here--I want him thinking we're a safer option than you."

If he agrees, she'll follow Rangin downstairs.

Graham rubs his chin. "All right, let's give them a minute or two to chat, see if they wave us over...if they don't we'll amble over there in a few," he says.

Champagne is brought to Cledd's table by the waiter and poured all around. Cledd raises his glass to Kylah and T'Var. "Cheers, ladies! So glad we met." After a healthy gulp he replies to Kylah's questions: "I kinda like having one stand-out, top-shelf club like this, but there's no reason I can't expand, open some others, maybe. I want to do well and be respected, like my Pops. How do I like spending my time?" He clinks his glass with Kylah's and grins wolfishly. "Hell, that's easy - sipping bubbly with a knockout like you, doll."

Rangin checks Yommyx, and scans him. "He's all right. Typical phaser stun effect."

Onn notices Zabo looking at Rangin's tricorder with great interest. To Onn's comment he says, "Gotcha, sweetheart."

Garcia and Rawlings return. Rawlings sees the damage done by the Tommy gun and whistles. "Glad you didn't get in the way, ma'am," he says.

Morris says to Graham, "Understood." He takes another sip of his drink.

The jazz ensemble has now finished its break and taken its seats again. It launches into a catchy, upbeat dance tune.

With a glance at T'Var to see if the doctor is drinking as well, Kylah sips from her glass, just a taste, then lowers it back to the table. "That is kind of you, Mr. Okmyx," she says, then leans forward so that she can speak to him without having to shout over the music. "It is an honor to spend time with you, too. A man like you must have many... friends. I suppose you are not yet interested in marriage, or some fortunate woman would have wed you by now. Who would not be proud of a powerful husband like you? And to be part of such an esteemed family?" Kylah is close enough to watch him intently, her dark eyes peering into his, and tries to gauge his emotions to see if he is bothered by the talk of his family--or pleased to be considered one of them.

Nia examines Yommyx with mild interest from her position halfway down the stairs, and says to Rangin, "I was more concerned about that knock on his head. A stun that mild should only leave him a bit dazed. Unless... did you get him too?"

To Rawlings, she responds: "Yeah, tell me about it. If I were a few inches wider I'd probably've caught a bullet or twenty. Lucky I don't eat everything Mr. Johnson tries to shove down my throat." With a grin she nods at the prone Iotian, beckoning her friend. "Once he starts showing signs of life, help him up, will you? I think he'll need your assistance getting back upstairs."

She turns toward the rest of the basement. "Meanwhile I think I'll give this place a once-over. Maybe they were guarding something else. I mean, we've been working on the premise that the mainframe was the only stolen item being held here, but..." Her words die away as she frowns. "Actually... that's a good point."

Why were they keeping this thing down here? They steal this big hunk of weird machinery, obviously valuable, but then just leave it in a basement instead of trying to take it apart or ransoming it. A whole week and they did nothing. Same with the hostages, for that matter. Why?

With a sigh, she edges carefully past Yommyx's body to search the area. Probably they won't know anything unless Thalen or Vargas gets some intel from the recovered CAG or captured guards. "Unless Mr. Quick-on-the-Trigger over there feels like talking once he wakes up," she mutters to herself.

"I been married two or three times," Cledd says, "but at the moment I'm footloose and fancy free." He grins. "Are you applying for the vacancy, miss?"

Rangin says, "No, I didn't fire. The gun, uh, startled me, and by the time I looked back he had already fallen."

Onn finds little of interest in the basement. The floor is hard concrete, clean and not dusty, so there is really no way to tell that the Starfleet portable computer was so recently here. On a table there are some sandwich wrappings and paper cups of cold coffee. Two cots with jumbled blankets are set up in a corner, and a Tommy gun leans against one wall.

Kylah's eyes widen slightly. "Oh--no, not at all! I never meant to imply such a thing. Not that you are not an eligible man," she adds in haste after realizing that she might insult Cledd by resisting with such vehemence. "But we have barely met." Awkward, she picks up her glass, takes another tiny sip, and casts her eyes around while she thinks of something to say. Somehow she wants to get to the topic of the Federation, but right now she cannot fathom a route to broach that topic.

"The band is excellent," she blurts, at least able to be honest with that. "Whoever hired them must have a good ear for music. Do you... were you the one to choose them? I wish I could play in this style. It is infectious."

"Yeah, they're my house band," Cledd says. "'Natty Nat' and his boys. Best in the biz - glad you like 'em. Hey, you wanna dance? C'mon, let's go!" He stands and holds his hand out to Kylah.

Nia reacts to the sight of the gun with a cynical twist of her mouth. So this guy's partner just ran outta here, not even taking his toy with him? Now that's just sloppy.

Still unnerved by the close call earlier, she lifts her phaser, sets it high enough to vaporize metal, and aims it at the weapon. "Heads up, guys," she calls to her colleagues. "You're gonna hear some noise--it's just me taking out some of the thugs' hardware." She squeezes the trigger, knowing that she'll feel better with one less piece of ugly but lethal junk lying around.

Once that's taken care of, she'll return to Yommykx and kneel down, patting him on his cheek to wake him up. If he's still out, she'll try to contact Thalen to see if they've had any luck with the various interviews thus far.

It takes a couple of blinks before Kylah can force herself to make the decision. "I would love to," she says as brightly as she can. She rises to her feet unaided, her concerned glance flickering over to Dr. T'Var, then somewhere in the direction of Mr. Graham's table, before returning to her new partner.

At least the tempo is upbeat, nothing remotely intimate. But that causes a different--and much less serious--type of problem. "I have no idea what the steps are," Kylah admits with an apologetic smile. "I hope you do not mind teaching me." After a deep, steadying inhale, she finally takes Cledd's hand and steps toward him.

Graham's surprised as Kylah takes to the floor with Cledd, but decides to take it as an opportunity.

"She's split them up," he say quietly to Morris. "Let's make our way over to the table, hopefully avoiding notice, so we can talk to the other goon before Cledd gets back."

[Assuming that happens]


Graham approaches the table in an amiable manner. "I see the better half of our team," he says, gesturing at T'Var and then toward the dance floor "found the man we came to see. Do you mind if we sit?" he asks the other Iotian.

Using her phaser-1, Onn vaporizes the Tommy gun. Krako's mooks are duly impressed. "That's some fancy heater you got there, lady," Zabo says. Rawlings narrows his eyes.

From the Yorktown, Communications Officer Thalen says the three captive Iotians, after getting over the surprise of their new surroundings, are loudly demanding to be returned to their planet and have very little to say otherwise. The freed Potemkin officers are being debriefed by Cmdr. Vargas after checkups in Sickbay.

After a few minutes, Pon Yommyx comes around. "Huh... what... holy crap!" he says, clearly startled. "What happened?"

"Glad to, sweetie," Cledd says to Kylah. He turns out to be a pretty skilled dancer, and is glad to lead. He keeps touching her, of course, by the hand or around the waist, and she keeps getting unpleasant telepathic impressions of him. He is an ambitious, cold, cunning, ruthless man with a lot of secrets buried in his psyche.

Morris looks reluctant, but follows Graham over to the other table.

T'Var does not seem especially pleased by Graham's initiative. The Iotian man with her says, "A team? What do you mean?"

Graham spares a quick glance over toward the dancers and then answers the Iotian as he sits down. "We're from the Federation. With the, ah...recent trouble, and nobody who claims to be important being of much help, we'd heard Cledd was a--a player, a man in the know, on the move." He shrugs slightly, and make a quick slightly apologetic glance toward T'Var, realizing he has no idea what she'd been up to that he might have trampled on.

"Seemed obviously someone we ought to talk to, face-to-face."

Nia swivels to stare at Zabo, surprised that he's still around. She could've sworn she told him to scram so they can get in place for their alleged ambush. Plus, she certainly wouldn't have used her phaser so destructively in front of him--she doesn't want anyone to get cold feet once she raises her weapon against him during their little performance for Yommyx.

With a silent wave of her hand, she shoos off Zabo and the gang, and this time makes damn sure they're gone before looking down at Yommyx. Assuming they leave as instructed, Nia returns to focus on Cledd Okmyx's goon. "What happened, you ask? You thought you'd perforate me with bullets, that's what," she says dryly. "My phaser had other ideas. Hold on while I make sure you're okay, then we'll get you to your feet."

Gently looking behind his head--she knows Rangin used his tricorder but sometimes a visual is more satisfying--she makes sure there's no blood or burgeoning lump there. If he passes muster, she'll give a nod to Rawlings so he can help her stand Yommyx upright. Either Rangin or Garcia could do the job, but Double-T's size should be nicely intimidating.

Once he's vertical again, Nia will let Double-T take control of Yommyx's person. She steps back and crosses her arms over her chest. "Okay, buddy. You tried things your way, and look what that got you. Lucky for you I believe in second chances--but trust me, you won't get a third. You gonna cooperate or not? You can start by telling us your name."

The dancing requires a lot of energy--more than Kylah has expended since her varied injuries over the past few missions--and between the exertion and the fizzy music, she would be enjoying herself... if not for her partner. He reminds her of too many men in her not-so-distant past. Charming exterior hiding the viciousness within. But she maintains a smile and her seemingly delighted attitude.

As they turn she notices Lt. Morris and Mr. Graham have arrived at Cledd's table. She catches a glimpse of T'Var, and--for a Vulcan--she seems wary. Confused, Kylah makes sure to avoid staring too long in one direction, quite certain that Cledd is the sort of man who could turn ugly in an instant. Her stomach muscles are tight with concern. Why did the men choose this moment to go over there? Why would Mr. Graham compromise Lt. Morris's safety?

She does not want Cledd seeing Lt. Morris. In an attempt to distract him, she waits until the dance brings them closer together. "This is wonderful," she breathes with an attempt at a laugh. "You are an excellent partner, I wonder if you are as good as a competitor? I play poker quite well, if you would care to try your luck."

The man introduces himself to Graham as Yeg Okmyx, a cousin of Cledd, as well as a business associate and advisor. He seems stand-offish and wary of Graham and Morris, the latter of whom he doesn't appear to recognize.

Onn didn't specifically tell Zabo to go away after he responded to the gunfire, and he didn't. Now he does.

The Sidonian woman finds no injuries on Yommyx other than a minor bump on the head where he fell. Onn and Rawlings help him up; he seems a little unsteady on his feet. The little ratlike Iotian now looks scared of Onn and eager to help. He says, "I'm Yommyx. I was watching the big think-box in the basement."

"Poker, eh?" Cledd says to Kylah, chuckling. "Sure, I've been known to play a hand or two. Don't know too many dames who are good at it, though. What kind of stakes do you wanna play for?"

Kylah's attention is divided between whatever is going on over at the table and the need to keep Cledd from noticing it. While they have been dancing, she has tried her best to glean any emotions emanating from his cousin and her colleagues--are things hostile? Suspicious? Awkward?--even though she knows it is futile. She is too far away and there are too many people for her to focus that acutely.

With all this going on in her mind, she responds to Cledd by stumbling headlong into honesty. "Oh, I do not carry money. But I do not expect to need any--I am very good, I assure you. Can it not be a friendly wager?"

Nia stares at the little man. Think-box? Holy crud, how backward is this guy? "Okay, Yommyx. To refresh your memory, I'm Lt. Nia Onn, and these are my colleagues from the--" She's so tempted to say "big floaty metal ship in the sky," but bites it off before her sarcasm breaks his cooperative mood. "The, uh, Federation starship. We've just hauled off all your colleagues into custody--that's thousands of miles up in space, by the way--and you might meet the same fate. Unless you continue to behave."

Nia smiles, smoothing down Yommyx's rumpled clothes gently, suddenly his buddy. "I can keep you safe from both the Krako Federation-worshippers and whoever you're working for. But you need to talk. Who's running this operation? And what's the reason he, or they, grabbed those hostages? Not to mention the... the 'think-box,' which by the way is called a 'computer.'"

"Sure, why not?" Cledd says, grinning at Kylah. He spins her around, in time to the music, and then pulls her back in close. "No reason we couldn't be real friendly."

Yommyx already looks scared. He stammers to Onn, "I can tell you, but you gotta protect me, lady. Can you Feddies do that? Cl--, uh, the people behind this don't play around. I could be in danger here, you know?"

In response, Nia tucks her phaser into her purse, then stands with arms held out, open and trustworthy and utterly nonthreatening. An easy task when a meter-wide, two-meter-tall behemoth has the prisoner in his massive grip. Yommyx doesn't need to know Rawlings is a teddy bear with one secret tickle spot that will render him helpless.

"Look at me. I'm in danger too, mister, but this is how safe I feel with my boys here." She pats Yommyx's shoulder and keeps her hand there reassuringly. "Nothing's gonna happen to you. One word from me and you'll be taken safely out of here in a snap--just like that machine was. We'll find you a new home on the planet, anywhere you like. Your family too, if you've got one. Not even the Syndicate can match our technology or speed as far as moving people around. When we want to protect someone, they stay protected."

Nia hesitates for impact. "...But we have to have a reason to protect them. So it's time to start talking and drawing us a picture of whatever you've got. Who took the CAG, and why? And before I forget, we know you had a partner down here who ran as soon as the computer disappeared. Where do you think he went?"

Colliding against Cledd's body, Kylah feels the wind knocked out of her, literally and figuratively. She stares up at him, afraid of what she sees and senses from this man. It is all she can do to avoid squirming out of his grasp, especially while the thought of making yet another stupid, reckless mistake sends her nerves into electric overdrive.

"Mr. Okmyx--" Her mouth is dry, and she hesitates. But only for a few seconds. As long as they are talking about poker, she will lay her cards on the table. "Mr. Okmyx," she says. "I--I think you are an attractive and charming man, and also very, very clever. I would find playing against you a stimulating experience. But not that way. I hope you do not think I am willing to wager... myself." Kylah swallows, then adds with a little burst of confidence, "Besides, you will be disappointed. I think luck will fall in my favor."

Luck has nothing to do with it, of course. She will cheat, and cheat as well as she ever has; no poker bluff ever got past her for long. The only time she ever failed to win a game at the Academy was when she played opposite--

Darren Zweller.

She can almost feel the blood draining from her face, and she quickly turns her head to hide what must look like a prelude to a faint.

She must still face the truth: In her Academy days, she could sense none of Zweller's bluffs. But the games were always a draw, I never actually lost. The defense comes quickly, but she knows it is inaccurate. Back on the Yorktown, when the stakes were higher than any mere poker hand, her inability to read Darren Zweller led to... something she still does not truly comprehend, or even remember.

But he was a sociopath. Is Cledd Okmyx the same? She already knows he is dangerous. Her need to prove herself against such great odds is frightening; it is self-destructive. She has never, ever won. Why can she not stop herself from rushing into such predicaments?

If I fail, if something goes wrong, everyone who thinks I am incapable of success will know. I will prove Mr. Graham right, I will prove Cmdr. Vargas right, I will prove Velir right, she thinks in despair.

Nevertheless, while she is facing the table, she sees Morris there. If Cledd recognizes him, if they are given away as Starfleet officers, what truth will Cledd give to them? Nothing. And Lt. Morris will be endangered. She has no idea what Mr. Graham's motives are, but he did it specifically while she and Cledd were away from the table. He must have something in mind, and it involves Cledd Okmyx not being near. He must want privacy. Why, she has no idea... maybe Lt. Morris knows something about this cousin? And getting Yeg away from Cledd is desirable?

Kylah girds herself and looks back up at Cledd's intense gaze, wearing her mother's confident smile. "I assume we will not be engaging in a two-handed game? There will be others around us in this gambling room of yours? If so, let us play."

Yommyx says, "Well... OK." He wipes his sweaty brow. "We work for Cledd Okmyx. He had us put the bag on the Feddies when his dad asked him to. He doesn't like the Feddies trying to run things around here, gettin' a piece of our action. As for where my buddy went, he said he had to see Cledd to tell him about losing touch with our bagmen upstairs, and the... computer disappearing, goin' all sparkly."

Cledd smiles at Kylah again. "Sure, doll, we can play wherever you want to - and for whatever stakes." He does not loosen his grip.

A panicky-looking man in a cheap suit enters the ballroom and makes a beeline towards Cledd. Two much-better-dressed mooks stop him, and Kylah, Graham and Morris (and presumably others) hear him blurt out, "I've got to talk to Mr. Okmyx! This is real important!"

Ask multiple questions at once of Yommyx, if you wish.

Graham smiles slightly, nodding respectfully. "Pleased to me you, Yeg. A guy like you, much like Cledd, might be someone we can do business with, might be someone who can help us out."

As the agitated goon enters the ballroom, Graham lets a hand carefully, as unnoticeably as possible slide toward his phaser, deciding Yeg is going night-night at the slightest hint of trouble to secure their flanks.

He hopes Morris and T'Var notice, but doesn't do anything to give himself away.

Morris and T'Var are both looking at the man who rushed in, as is Yeg, who rises to his feet.

Kylah stops short of pulling away from Cledd when she hears the agitated voice from the stranger. A quick check over at their table shows that both Yeg and Mr. Graham seem on high alert. She has a bad feeling about all this and instinctively attempts to distract Cledd further by dismissing the newcomer.

"I am surprised your bouncer allowed someone like that to barge into your elite establishment," she murmurs with a slight shake of her head. "I suppose such would-be hangers-on are desperate for a chance to seek favors from you." Her heart thrums almost painfully in her chest--and given how tightly Cledd is holding her, she would not be surprised if he feels its rhythm pounding against him. Kylah tries to keep her voice and smile playful. "Can you not let your cousin deal with things? What good is power if you cannot delegate when you wish to enjoy yourself?"

Nia's mind works overtime in an effort to translate Yommyx's slang into something articulate. But most important is the news that not only is the President's son involved in the kidnapping, but apparently so is the father himself. That's not what she learned in the briefing she got from Singh--who herself got it from Booker's group. Who's telling the truth? Is Cledd claiming legitimacy from his father, or did the President flat-out pull the wool over Book's eyes?

The chances that this little guy knows such details are zero to none. She focuses on the other worrying info. "You say your pal is heading off to meet Cledd. Where? We have people following him, but if he's got enough of a head start..." Damn it. Aren't Book and the rest already tracking Cledd down? All we need is a sudden meet-up...

She swivels to Rangin. "Ensign. Contact Graham ASAP and let him know he might have company." Back to Yommyx and a barrage of questions:

"What's Cledd like? How tight are you with him--does he pay attention to, uh, associates at your level? No offense, you just don't strike me as being all that high in the organization."

"And do you have any clue as to what the President, or Cledd, was hoping to achieve by just nabbing the hostages and holding them for a week, rather than killing them?"

"If they don't like the Federation's input on your planet, what the hell did he think he was gonna accomplish by kidnapping one of our own in secret? Why didn't he at least contact Starfleet and ransom them off? Is he so stupid he didn't realize we'd try to get them back once they dropped out of contact?"

"Not to mention, with Krako's Federation cargo cult blowing up, surely they'd've been happy to use the kidnapping as an excuse to start a holy war."

She turns to the rest of her crew. "I know full well I came late to this shindig, so... Rangin, you were in charge. If I'm missing any points, please ask anything as needed."

Cledd frowns. "No, I know this guy. He's one of mine. I gotta handle this, hon; hang on a sec." He says, more loudly to his mooks, "It's OK, let him go." He releases his hold on Kylah.

They do, and the man comes closer to Cledd and Kylah, looking agitated.

Rangin nods, takes out his communicator and calls Graham.

In the dingy apartment building, Onn says, "You say your pal is heading off to meet Cledd. Where? We have people following him, but if he's got enough of a head start...."

"He was headed to the Paramount," the ratlike man says. "Had to report to the boss."

She asks, "What's Cledd like? How tight are you with him--does he pay attention to, uh, associates at your level? No offense, you just don't strike me as being all that high in the organization."

Yommyx purses his lips. "Well, you know... he's the boss. I'm in his crew. I don't pretend to be a capo or anything."

"And do you have any clue as to what the President, or Cledd, was hoping to achieve by just nabbing the hostages and holding them for a week, rather than killing them?"

"Dunno. I got my orders, lady, and I followed 'em. I was guarding the computing doohickie; I wasn't involved with the Feddies."

"If they don't like the Federation's input on your planet, what the hell did he think he was gonna accomplish by kidnapping one of our own in secret? Why didn't he at least contact Starfleet and ransom them off? Is he so stupid he didn't realize we'd try to get them back once they dropped out of contact?"

He crosses his arms. "He didn't discuss that with me, lady."

"Not to mention, with Krako's Federation cargo cult blowing up, surely they'd've been happy to use the kidnapping as an excuse to start a holy war."

He scoffs. "Krako's an idiot. Him and his stupid Feddie ideas." He smiles slyly. "Like you said, lady, no offense."

In the Paramount ballroom, Graham's communicator beeps.

Rangin listens in to the questions while holding the communicator up. Timing was always so important in matters like this and making sure the other group are prepared for what might be coming their way...

As it has T'Var and Graham in the group, it can handle most things, but if they are stuck with a set of Goons on the wrong turf as they had set off to do, it could be a nasty situation up coming depending on what they are up to.

Graham keeps a hand on his phaser in his pocket and grabs his communicator with his free hand, glancing from the newcomer to Yeg, and holding his eyes on Yeg as he answers.

" 'Scuse me, just a message - kinda link a phone" he says to the Iotian as he takes out the communicator, which he holds close to his own ear.

For once Nia's cool snaps, and she jabs a finger into Yommyx's chest. "You wanna see me offended, bub, keep calling me 'lady' instead of 'lieutenant.'" Normally she couldn't care less about how someone addresses her, but she's losing her patience fast for these prehistoric relics. "Okay. Frankly I think you've already outstayed your usefulness, given how little you seem to know. But before we let you go, you're gonna tell us how to get to the Paramount."

She darts a look over at Rangin, a little worried that he's apparently not in touch with Booker yet. What's going on? Their team might already be at this place. In which case we can just have Nguyen beam us to their location, it'll be a helluva lot faster than following this shrimp's directions. If Booker and the others need backup, Nia doesn't feel like taking any scenic routes.

Then again... Nguyen can beam the others away from this Paramount joint just as easily. Nia's protective instincts tug at her with the urge to have Nguyen do just that. Book won't appreciate it if he's in the middle of some breakthrough and I unilaterally decide to yank him outta there. She has no problem risking his anger if his safety's at stake, but if his team can handle things better on their own, it's her job as a leader to let them.

She sighs and turns back to their sorta-captive. "Okay, Yommyx. I'll give you a couple more chances to help us out. Tell me about the guy who ran out of here. His name, his personality, if he's trusted by Okmyx the Lesser, and anything else that might help us if and when we run up against him. Also, give me any of Cledd's vulnerabilities. What makes him angriest? What flatters him?" Nia flashes a brief, cold smile. "Remember, it's to your benefit if we neutralize him as a threat."

Kylah stands still while watching the newcomer approach them. Why is he here? Does it have anything to do with the hostages? What is going on with the other team? Have they been discovered?

Alarmed, she looks toward Mr. Graham and Dr. T'Var, who seem miles away. With a swallow, she shifts her hand, intending to clutch at her purse--which is when she realizes that when Cledd so surprised her with the dance invitation, she left her bag--and the phaser inside--on the chair. Stupid, she thinks furiously. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Her gaze moves to the large men who tried to stop the stranger. How difficult will they be for her colleagues to take out, if it should be necessary? Kylah cannot decide whether to move or stay. If she were truly just a young woman taken with Cledd Okmyx, she would probably remain where she is. There is no reason to suspect her... unless Mr. Graham has said something to the cousin.

Frustrated and feeling impotent, she can only wait to see what happens. Which is when she sees Mr. Graham pick up his communicator. In public.

Her eyes widen. She thought she was reckless. Has he gone mad?



Are these men armed? Kylah should be able to see that clearly, but I don't remember if they've been described as wielding visible guns.

As the tone changes to that of the comm being picked up, Rangin can vaguely hear sounds in the background. At least, after what happened on OCIII, Graham would not be taking the call without some modicum of precaution, Rangin hopes.

"Graham, this is Rangin. Company's coming your way of the troublesome kind. Cat's out of the bag, but we got what we came for. What's your situation, do you need anything?"

Rangin can't help the terse voice down the phone from the action of the last few minutes, even though it now seems likes hours. Still he patiently waits, maintaining a calmer demeanour and trying to recover some of his poise.

Yommyx says to Onn, "It's Jer Hako. He's the guy I usually work with. Mr. Okmyx trusts him, sure, as much as he trusts anybody, I guess. What makes Mr. Okmyx angry?" He whistles. "Hoo boy. Where to start? Uh... giving him any lip, not doing what he wants, taking too long to do what he wants, asking too many questions, that kind of thing. And what, uh, flatters him? Hmm, that's tougher. I... I, uh, dunno. I've never tried to flatter him. I just try not to make him mad at me, y'know?"

The mooks at the Paramount who initially stopped the man who ran in aren't carrying guns in their hands, but Kylah notices telltale bulges under their jackets.

Cledd says to the man, "What are you doing, coming here? Didn't I give you an assignment?" The man looks at Kylah, but Cledd says curtly, "Never mind her, out with it!"

The man replies, "The computer's gone, Mr. Okmyx, sir, and I think the Feddies are, too. I was talkin' to Uvell on the phone upstairs in the apartment and, poof, like that, he wasn't there anymore. No one was. I think they're onto us."

Yeg Okmyx comes closer and listens in. Cledd glances at his cousin and then back at the man. "But you didn't see for yourself?"

The man turns red. "I think it was that, you know, 'beaming' thing they do. Nobody answered on the phone so I got out of there. I thought they might grab me next. I knew you'd want to know right away, and I thought I ought to tell you in person."

Kylah can sense Cledd Okmyx's anger as it washes across her mind like a dark, churning tide. Even not touching him, from less than a meter away, she feels particularly attuned to his thoughts.

Lungs frozen in the act of inhaling, Kylah tries to gather her wits and come up with the right thing to do, something to say, anything that might calm Cledd Okmyx's growing rage. She gasps in order to regain some air, but otherwise she has no power at all. She would rather he forget her entirely--which he seems to have done--and so she fights the instinct to back away, to run away from him.

She does not even dare look at Mr. Graham. Given what this man has just said, it is probable that someone has just informed the security officer of the apparent rescue. He is probably requesting a transport, she thinks, hope giving her a little courage. Of course: the ship can recover them instantly. There is really no danger; the Yorktown is monitoring their locations and is ready to yank all of them to safety. And Cledd will be transported into custody, most likely. President Okmyx might be difficult to deal with, but he will surely understand that Starfleet will require justice be served for his son's criminal acts. It will all be over.

And yet with every second that passes without her feeling the pull of the transporter, Kylah's fear remains.

Nia nods at Yommyx, distracted by her attempt to listen in on Rangin's side of the conversation. She has the sense that she'll be disappointing Zabo--their little playacting seems utterly unnecessary now. Not that he'd be disappointed to learn what a stun feels like, but nevertheless...

With a lift of her hand she thanks the underling and mutely tells him to stay put. Then she walks up to Rangin, eyeing him intently. "Well?" she mouths, waiting for a sign that something, anything, is going on. While she does, she pulls her communicator out. If it becomes necessary she wants Nguyen to be ready.

"Onn to Nguyen," she says quietly. "Are you tracking the other team's coordinates? They might need to be beamed out shortly. Any way you can identify where they are and how many Iotians are nearby?"

Graham, surveying the scene, replies evenly, but urgently.

"Two by two security teams, right now, front and back entry points to our location. If Yorktown detects small arms projectile fire stun everyone within 100 meters from orbit Now."

Rangin says to Onn, "He says he wants Security teams at his current location."

From the Yorktown, Nguyen reports, "Yes, they appear to be on the ground floor of a multistory public facility of some kind. There are several dozen Iotians around them." He pauses, and says, his voice rising, "There's hand-phaser fire nearby... now inside!"

Kylah, Graham and Morris hear the hum of phasers firing nearby, inside, perhaps from the lobby. In moments Jojo Krako and more than a dozen men, all in ersatz Starfleet uniforms, burst into the ballroom. Krako and four others are holding phaser-1s; the rest have pistols and Tommy guns. One of the mooks who tried to stop Jer Hako quickly reaches in his coat, but Krako stuns him and drops him.

"Everybody, hands up, now!" Krako shouts.

Rangin can hear the brief event through Graham's communicator and looks across at the others, "I think I just heard Krako's voice at the scene. Sounds like something very big is going down wherever they are. They are gong to need those two Security teams and if we are done here, we should be over there."

He waits for Lt, Onn to give the commands to get things moving.

As Nia takes in the sudden escalation of activity, her hand reflexively clutches the communicator until her knuckles turn pale. She stares at Rawlings and Rangin for two heartbeats before she snaps out to Nguyen: "Chief. I want you to get a lock on every person in the club who doesn't belong on this planet. Confirm that you can get our people out of there on my command. Meanwhile, be prepared to beam the four of us here as close as possible."

She opens a new channel, keeping Nguyen in the loop. "Onn to Vargas. Commander, there's phaser activity in the area of Graham's crew. Can you dispatch a pair of security teams as close to their current location as possible? We'll be joining them. I would rather beam them all out, but..."

But what? Why can't I get Book the hell out of there? Civilians, maybe, they might be in bigger danger. I just don't know... None of us have any fucking idea what is going on.

She takes a steadying breath. "...But if civilians might be endangered by taking our people to safety, I know they're our priority in a situation like this. We just don't know whether that's the case yet. Rangin has contact with Graham; hopefully he'll get us more info. But we're going there now as backup, along with any security officers you can send. Sir." Her tone changes. "Chief? Have you got them?"

While every second ticks away, she feels more tension building in her chest. She hisses to Rangin: "Is Graham still connected? Is he talking? Tell him we're working on beaming them out."

Kylah is staggered by this intrusion--and wonders how she could have possibly missed that so many angry men were right outside. She is glad her hand is down at her side now, since it lets her quickly slip into her sash for the communicator she put there earlier. At least she might be able to ask for help; if only as a backup should Mr. Graham be unable to make the request. Tucking the device tightly between her fingers and palm--hoping that it is relatively hidden in the dark club--she raises her arms slightly.

The phaser fire that drops the gangster makes her react physically, just as she felt it back on the Sakath station. Fortunately a stun is less jarring than the killing shots she inflicted on their mutated attackers. She winces but otherwise stands as still as possible. Her widened gaze flickers between Cledd Okmyx, this newcomer whom she recognizes from the mission dossier as Krako, and finally her teammates. What are Dr. T'Var and Mr. Graham up to?

Graham slowly raises his free hand while speaking casually and quietly into the communicator. "Krako is here with mooks in Starfleet colors, phasers."

Several people cry out in fear and panic when Krako and his mooks storm in; one woman in an elegant silvery gown faints to the floor.

Nguyen sounds stressed but cool. He says, "Scan shows one Vulcan and a bunch of other people - the human and Iotian genomes are just too close to differentiate, Lieutenant. There's another, uh, ambiguous lifeform reading there, too. Multiple phasers on the scene, although the firing has now stopped. I can beam you there whenever you wish. Standing by."

Vargas and Onn both hear Graham's very brief report. The First Officer says briskly, "Security is scrambling. All transporter rooms are now active. I can have two teams of six officers each beamed down in a minute or two. You're the landing-party commander on scene, Mr. Onn, or closest to it. What's your recommendation?"

Dr. T'Var and Morris have both stood and have raised their hands, as has everyone else in the ballroom except the fainted woman and Cledd. Kylah can see that T'Var's eyes are narrowed and she's weighing her options.

"You!" says one of Krako's mooks to Graham, pointing a phaser right at him. "Drop that communicator."

Cledd blusters, "What's the big idea, Krako? You got some nerve, busting in here like this."

"Got it, help on its way. Keep it on, we'll be listening." Rangin sets the communicator to broadcast, and mutes any noise from his end.

"Ma'am, I think Graham is going to be offline shortly. You won't get a lock on the group, other than T'Var, unless we can get close and spot pick them out individually." Rangin weighs up the options, and the time they have. "Frankly, we're the four who are ready. Two at the front..." Rangin nods at Garcia and Rawlings, "...two at the back." He nods at Lt Onn before continuing. "Also, if the have taken the main hall, kitchens will be the best place to take a look at them, through the galley doors. But we need to be there before they send someone in to clear them out."

"Only other thing I will say is that Krako didn't sound like he was going to do anything like this not that long ago, something has provoked him and we had better find out what."

"Drop it?" Graham asks incredulously. "I would think your boss Krako..." Otherwise still, he tilts his head just slightly in the direction of the head good, "Would like to get his hands on a working communicator, not a busted up one."

He shakes the communicator just slightly. "How about I lay it down on the table, nice and slow?"

Chief Nguyen's report is disappointing, to say the least. And disconcerting--an ambiguous reading? Just what the hell is waiting down there? A shapeshifter of some kind?

Being told the obvious by two people she's not exactly on great terms with, on the other hand, is enough for Nia's already growing frustration to boil over. Since she can't glare at Vargas, Nia lets Rangin have her irritated stare--her words are for both of them, anyway:

"If we can't get them out, yes, I want us there ASAP. And the Security teams too." if Vargas can be so kind to tell them to get their asses in gear. "But while Mr. Rangin's tactics are solid, it's news to me that the layout of this club is known to the Chief, to the point that we can be beamed near specific entrances. If so, great, let's proceed now. Otherwise, Chief, please beam us to whatever safe spot you sent Graham's team."

Her attention falls on Yommyx. Nia doesn't particularly care about the gangster, but she promised him safe passage and it's apparent that Krako's crew aren't to be trusted. Damn it. "Chief, belay that for a few more seconds," she says brusquely. "Something needs to be tidied up."

She jerks her head in a tight nod at Cledd's underling. "Your choice now, buddy. You wanna take your chances going out the door? Cledd's guys won't have a clue that you've helped us, but I know there are a few of Krako's team still lurking around, so it could be risky. Or we can beam you up to the ship for safekeeping. At least until the situation down here is resolved. Your decision, but make it fast--you have three seconds."

If Yommyx wants to stay, her job with him is done. If, however, he agrees to take shelter on the ship, Nia will ask Vargas and Nguyen to take care of him before the four Starfleet officers are beamed out.

Either way, she'll get in position, ready for transport.

Kylah gasps at the sight of the phaser aimed at Mr. Graham. Why would a group that worships the Federation be so hostile to someone who shows evidence of being either a fellow fan or the real thing?

She bites her lip. The real question is, how do they have access to a single phaser, much less multiple ones?

Collusion? Is it possible...?

"I know those weapons," she blurts, moving a fraction closer to Cledd. "They are only in use by the--by the outsiders. Like the ones who disappeared." Kylah's breathing quickens as she tries to maintain her anonymity, as much as she can, while accusing Krako. "Were you involved in that?"

The mook glances at Krako, who nods a fraction of an inch. "OK," says the mook to Graham. "Put it down on the table there, then, niiiiice and easy."

Yommyx, eyes wide and sweating profusely, looks like he's about to say something to Onn, then bolts for the door. It slams shut behind him.

"Clam up for a minute, honey, would ya, and let me talk to the man?" Cledd says to Kylah out of the corner of his mouth.

Krako saunters closer to Cledd as his men start disarming everyone in the ballroom. He says smugly, just loud enough for Cledd, Kylah and Yeg to hear, "That's Captain Krako to you, and the big idea, Cledd m'boy, is that you're done messing with the Federation - the real Federation. You and your dear ol' Pops are through. You kidnap their fellas, you steal their computer, you tell them a hundred lies - not good. Not good at all."

"I don't know what you're talkin' about," Cledd says with a wave of his hand.

Kylah can tell he's lying.

Krako shrugs. "So you say. Kirk thought he could trust your dad, but you've both proved him wrong. I'm the kind of partner the Federation needs - not your dad, and not you."

Graham lowers the communicator, very slowly and deliberately, to the table, leaving it open and transmitting.

He's mostly worried the mooks don't know how to operate a phaser and will accidentally incinerate rather than stun him - although he suspects they have had instruction from someone named "Morris" who's standing right nearby... The text... But he avoids glancing in his direction, deciding to keep his suspicion to himself for the moment.