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

"The Krako, you think? Well, then this should certainly be even more interesting than I thought," he whispers quietly back to Collins and Garcia. "Keep a lookout for anyone who appears to be guiding people in, or the muscle who is watching over everyone. Let's, hopefully, not get caught unawares by what's happening here and find something new out. Although if you could point out Krako when you see him, I'd be grateful."

Rangin starts scanning through the faces in the crowd. He doesn't think he will know any of them, he's not even sure he would recognise Krako if he came up to his face and welcomed him as he hadn't expected to be down on this mission. However, trying to spot those in charge for later on, could prove invaluable. He also starts listening in to the crowd, eavesdropping on conversations and trying to hear the reasons why people are coming here. They seem excited, but it must be for something?

Kylah inputs the code, there is a quiet beep, and the door clicks slightly open. It is thick and looks strong.

Garcia nods in response to Rangin, who recognizes no one in the crowd, which is indeed upbeat, loud and excited. There are several people in Starfleet uniform - with shirts in red, yellow and blue - who appear to be acting as ushers. All of them have at least an ensign's single strand of gold braid on their cuffs; two have the braid of lieutenant.

Rangin overhears several snippets of conversation:

"...and Capt. Krako himself will be speaking to us! It's going to be...."

"...glad we can finally come out in the open and...."

"...is a good color on you, and I'm not just saying that, honey, because...."

"...ship returned, and that looked like a good time to...."

"...Gorol said so, but you know Gorol: couldn't find his pants if you didn't...."

The crowd gets denser as you pass through an outer lobby and then into the main hall, which is already nearly full. About two-thirds of the crowd is in Starfleet uniform; the rest are in Twenties Chicago garb, as you are. You are each jostled a bit as you enter.

It's the comment about finally being out in the open that catches Collins' attention. She turns to her shipmates and quietly says "I think Krako's Federation may actually be a resistance movement." She looks around the crowd, especially studying body language of those assembled. Do they look like coiled springs ready to release? Or is the excitement level just jubilance?

Jubilance, all in all. It's a very upbeat, happy crowd.

After moments of feeling claustrophobic and trapped, Kylah is relieved to see the door unlock, and she casts a quick, hopeful look at Mr. Graham. "Can we--can we go inside now, sir?"

"Absolutely," Graham says, relieved in his own right. "Allow me," he says, moving to go in first. No life signs and fatal booby trap unlikely given that the MO is kidnapping, but better be safe than sorry.

"Shut the door behind us if nothing bad happens," he adds.

Kylah exhales when Mr. Graham moves away. She nearly objects to his going inside first, since from what little she knows about this society, it is customary for men to hold open doors for women. But she doubts he would allow her to take that risk--such as it is. Besides, he is already inside.

If anyone is watching, they will likely just consider him rude. Playing her part, Kylah brushes her hands along the flimsy material of her dress, making sure it is smoothed out after... whatever it looked like they were doing... and follows Mr. Graham into the building.

Graham and Kylah find themselves in the dim front hall of the house. It looks similar to other such houses of the era, as Graham vaguely remembers from long-ago history classes and films he's seen. The walls are bare. To the left are stairs going up, just beside that is a slightly-ajar door, and further to the right the hall opens out into what appears to be a living room.

"Ok - let's see where this takes us" Rangin says and he starts heading into the hall and joining the assembled crowd standing closer to those who are not wearing the faux uniforms than those who are.

He checks his pockets to make sure nothing is missing and then starts looking around the hall to see where Krako might be coming in from and what kind of platform there is.

Collins nods to Garcia that they should stay near Rangin, and starts to follow the latter.

Kylah looks immediately at the partially opened door. Her fingers curl lightly around Mr. Graham's left arm to get his attention, then nods curiously at the door in question. She knows he has seen it, probably before she did, but is unsure of what strategy he wishes to undertake. Does he deem it safe to speak? Can they relax their vigilance? Or should they maintain their covers--and if so, what is their excuse for being there?

Rangin finds his phaser and communicator are still in his pockets. Collins and Garcia follow him and, working your way through the thick and milling crowd, being jostled quite a bit as you go, you eventually find three seats together. The stage and podium are to your right, about 30 rows away. A half-dozen people in Starfleet uniform are already on stage, sitting or standing, and talking. A wide red banner with a massive golden Starfleet insignia covers the wall behind the stage. There is a door to either side of the stage. Men and women in Security red stand at ease by each door, and at floor level in front of the stage. It is quite noisy in the hall.

Rangin reaches into his pockets and sets his communicator to silent. The last thing he wants to happen is for it to go off and alert the entire hall to the presence of three Federation Officers, even if those around would be delighted to see them.

He listens further to the conversation around, trying to get a hint of what Krako might be about to talk about or see if there are any leaflets or flyers he can see which might have some more detail on.

Rangin silences his communicator. He sees no leaflets or flyers. It is still very noisy, but he overhears several more conversational fragments:

"...done it up right, with the banners and the uniforms and all, that's just...."

"...has to know his time has passed, and that Capt. Krako is going to be...."

"...said she was going to throw him out if he tried something like that again, and if I were him, you know, I'd...."

"...to worry about, because we're the wave of the future and Okmyx is just going to have to...."

"...for a long time, and at last we're going to hear what he has to say. Right? Of course. Do you think he'll...."

Graham nods at Kylah's drawing his attention to the door. "No life signs," he whispers. "But still..."

He gestures for her to stand near the foot of the stairs, then positions himself to watch the door. He places his hand on his phaser and takes out his communicator.

"Graham to T'Var," he says quietly, eyes on the door. "We're in. Join us via transporter in the front hall."

"Acknowledged," Dr. T'Var replies. "Stand by. I want to make sure we're not observed."

After a minute or two, T'Var and Morris materialize there in the hall.

Graham keeps his eyes on the door that's ajar. "Morris...uh, lieutenant...give us the rundown on the layout...what's through there?"

Morris says, "That leads to the kitchen and pantry, and stairs down to the basement." He looks around keenly.

Kylah takes a hesitant step toward the living room while eyeing Mr. Graham. "Should we split up to search, sir, while Lt. Morris checks to see if anything is missing?" Then she turns to the lesser-known human. "Lt. Morris, is there anything that the Iotians might have stolen, along with the captives? Some confidential data or intelligence that they would value?"

Graham nods approvingly at Kylah's initiative.

"Yes," he interjects before Morris answers. "We're alone in here according to the Doc's readings, let's keep it that way--Morris, make sure we're locked up tight front and back, then your discretion to advise us as Mr. Kylah suggested."

He shrugs. "I'll take the basement. If there are no objections, Dr. T'Var upstairs and Kylah the main floor. Mark the time: everybody affirmatively sounds off in five minutes sharp."

Graham's feeling comfortable in command--and would have been just as happy to follow Dr. T'Var's lead. But he momentarily thanks his lucky stars he has this fine little team rather than being stuck with Rangin's bullshit.

Morris says, "We have tricorders, communicators, data tablets and small portable computers here, and a mainframe and arms locker in the basement. We keep notes on our field studies and our dealings with the Syndicate leadership, of course, and that might interest the natives." He nods at Graham's order. "Yes, sir. Shouldn't take long." He goes through the door to the kitchen, phaser-1 in hand.

"Understood," T'Var says. She goes upstairs.

Kylah finds the main floor includes a living room, dining room, several closets and a bathroom. Almost everything is in the style of Twenties Chicago.

In the basement, Graham finds five small stacked Starfleet shipping containers, a fusion backup generator and, more appropriate for the period, sewer, plumbing and electrical hookups. The arms locker is still shut tight. He does not see the mainframe.

Kylah chooses to examine the closets first, and will then move to the living room if there is nothing unusual or worth noting.

Collins is amused by the random discussion of someone's private life amid all the rally related chatter

Graham rubs his chin. Good that the weapons locker is intact. They couldn't possibly have hauled off the mainframe...

He flips open his communicator. "Graham to Morris. I'm in the basement now. Where's that mainframe located?"

The closets have Starfleet-issue overcoats and gloves in them and little else that Kylah can see. The living room has Twenties-era furniture but nothing more modern than that.

T'Var comes downstairs and reports, "The bedrooms appear to have been ransacked. I saw personal belongings, clothing and the like, but no items of Starfleet technology there."

Morris also soon returns. "The back door was slightly ajar," he says. "Nothing's missing that I can see, though." Replying to Graham's query, he says, "It should be along the west wall, near the shipping containers."

In the auditorium, a man in Science blue steps up to a bank of microphones and holds his hands out. Rangin notices that he has the two stripes of a Starfleet commander on his cuffs. The crowd soon quiets down. He says, "My friends, welcome! I'm so glad you're here - those who already proudly wear the uniform of the Krako Federation, and those who want to know more, to learn of what is to come, and who will, I hope, swell our ranks even more, and join us." He makes eye contact for just a moment with Collins before his gaze moves on. "Because I have to tell you, the day has come at last - the day when we move ahead from The Book and what we now know to be a backward, obsolete society, and towards the future - towards the Federation! This is the time. This is the place. One man can lead us there. One man has the ideas and the passion. One man has actually been to a starship, and has a vision for the future that all our people will embrace. That man is...," as the crowd begins to clap and cheer, "...that man is none other than...," he grins, the room growing much more noisy, "your friend and mine, the leader we need, the leader we've all been waiting for... CAPTAIN JOJO KRAKO!"

The crowd goes wild as a stocky, balding man in Command yellow emerges from one of the stage doors and strides up to the microphones.

Collins is just a little startled when the speaker locks eyes with her, but she recovers just as quickly. When Krako walks out onto the stage, Collins thinks Hmmm, I thought he'd be younger than that based on what I'd heard and read. She also finds it odd that so many people are so willing to embrace this abrupt change to their lifestyle. She listens with interest as Krako speaks.

Graham double checks the area along the west wall, near the shipping containers--for the mainframe, as well as for any evidence that the area has been disturbed.

For the moment, Krako just basks in the loud applause and cheers that wash over him. Many of the uniformed people around you have jumped to their feet to cheer; those in Twenties garb have not, by and large.

Graham does not see the mainframe anywhere in the basement. There are scuff marks on the concrete floor that may or may not be fresh, but he can't tell by eye. There is no other sign of disturbance.

Kylah notices the coats and asks T'Var, "The clothing you mention... Was it this era's wardrobe, or were there Starfleet uniforms as well? Any remnants of official clothing would have value to those imitating Federation officers. If the kidnappers left the items behind, we can likely rule out that faction." She slips her hands in any coat pockets to see if there are weapons, communicators or tricorders to be found.

If she does not find any, she will ask Morris:

"Forgive me if this is a repeat question, but I do not remember... did you say whether others in your group kept phasers on them, as well? If so, we should assume their attackers took them." Her voice is grim. "The prospect of such technology in ignorant and careless hands is..." She does not bother finishing, as the others will surely feel the same way.

She will continue to look in the remaining rooms--the dining room, kitchen, and bathrooms.

If she does find the weapons etc. she'll make note of that to the others and continue to search.

Graham scowls and tunes his communicator to reach the team.

"When someone with a tricorder has a chance, come down here and give me a hand. I think out bad guys dragged out the mainframe."

Leaving the weapons locker undisturbed--a serious bunch of weaponry anyone familiar with an old-school pistol or rifle could figure out how to point-and-shot--but taking a computer the they couldn't possibly know how to make the most of puzzles him.

T'Var says, "It was a mix of local garb and Starfleet uniforms; mostly the latter."

Morris says, "We would carry phaser-1s if we thought we were in any particular danger, such as if we were going into a bad neighborhood, but typically we went unarmed."

Kylah finds no gadgets in the coat pockets, and little of interest elsewhere on the first floor.

Morris goes downstairs to the basement with his tricorder. "Dammit, you're right - they took the mainframe!" he blurts.

Curious how the apparent kidnapping might have occurred, Kylah goes to the front door and examines it for any sign that the attackers forced their way inside. She then considers the facts known thus far. Though she was not downstairs to hear Mr. Morris's response to Mr. Graham's question, if the mainframe is indeed missing, a significant piece of foreign technology has been moved from this building. There should be nothing like it elsewhere on the planet.

She contacts Mr. Graham and simultaneously looks at T'Var for guidance, speaking to both of them. "If the mainframe has been stolen, shall I contact Lt. Thalen to see if the Yorktown's sensors are strong enough to scan for traces of our technology? Surely this mainframe has a larger signal 'footprint' than the communicator left behind by the Enterprise."

Rangin goes along with the polite applause given by the people dressed as he is instead of the more enthusiastic clapping. The Krako Federation sounds a little more interesting though, and it looks like they just walked straight into a power struggle for control. If they are anything like Coridan there would be a fair amount of bloodletting soon.

Looking closer at the man on the stage, Rangin tries to see if the uniform is a little more realistic than the others. Then he waits to see what rousing speech Krako can give that would divert the locals from s life of crime.

Krako holds up his hands to quiet the crowd, and Rangin sees that he has the two-and-a-half braid stripes of a Starfleet captain on his cuffs. Rangin can't tell much else about the uniform from this distance.

Krako finally begins to speak. "I'm so glad you're here. Look at this crowd! And I know why you're here. You're here because you're tired of The Book. You're here because you're tired of the crime, of the payoffs, of the Syndicate. You're here because you know there's a better way - the way of the Federation! An interstellar society - worlds by the hundreds, by the thousands! Alien races! Starships, phasers, communicators! And that can be ours, too! We can reach for the stars, live among the stars. Is that what you want?"

"YES!," the crowd roars.

"I knew it. Because that's what I want, too. And that's what we're going to get. Because Okmyx has had his chance; he's done. Don't you think?"

"YES!"

"He's bled us dry long enough, and we don't need him anymore. Isn't that right?"

"YES!"

Krako beams. "That's the spirit! Yes, yes, and again yes! Okmyx and his capos are the past; you, all of you, and your captain - we're the future. We know a new way - a better way - the way of the future. Out there, among the stars. Once we thought The Book held all the answers - but now we know better. Kirk and the others, they showed us! They saw how misled we were, how far astray we'd gone, and they came to show us a better way. The Federation way." At once, his expression darkens. "But, my friends, brace yourselves, because I have some bad news for you here today. I wish I didn't have to tell you this, but I know I have to...."

Collins gives Krako her full attention. At first she thinks that this movement could be a good thing - to bring this society into the world of tech and space flight. But when the speaker changes moods, so does she. Quietly, she says to Garcia and Rangin "Here it comes. the 'kill all bookers' speech. Earth's history is full of this kind of political tactic, and nothing good can come from it."

"Very good, Mr. Kylah," Graham responds. "Please request a briefing from computer specialists on Yorktown as well: what is the unit's capabilities? what security measures is it equipped with? Why in their opinion would someone from a, uh, primitive culture steal it?"

He shrugs, looking at Morris. "Well, it's not here, so we might as well head upstairs."

Kylah turns to Morris before she contacts the ship. "Perhaps you can answer Mr. Graham's questions? Regarding what security and data the system contains?"

Half-listening to whatever he may answer, Kylah gets in touch with Lt. Thalen and quickly updates him on the circumstances. When she finishes explaining the missing mainframe, she asks, "Might our sensors be able to locate any unusual energy patterns in or around the area? A computer of any kind, much less Federation technology, both uses and generates far more energy than these primitive electronics. What do you think, sir? I know we scanned the planet earlier to no avail, but now we have homed in on a more specific location."

She hesitates, then adds, "On the other hand, whoever took it might not have figured out how to connect the system, in which case it will not be traceable. But it might be worth a try."

Krako says, "As you know, the Federation - not our Federation," he says to scattered laughter and applause - "the real Federation, has observers on our world, people from Starfleet, committed to helping us and to making it possible for us to join them someday. Right here and now, among us. We owe them our gratitude and our help, don't we?" More cheers and calls of "Yes!" "Of course we do. Well, my friends, I'm sorry to report that they've been kidnapped." There are gasps and groans. "Yes, kidnapped. A terrible crime, terrible. I wish it weren't true, but it's true, it's happened. Bela Okmyx and his cronies in the Syndicate don't want to join the Federation. They want to keep following The Book, and to keep us in the bygone era of the Twenties. So he's kidnapped the Starfleet visitors and wants to use them to pressure the Federation into going away, into leaving us alone, still ruled by him and his crooked thugs. Is that going to work?"

"NO!!!!" is the cry.

"Absolutely not. It's not going to work - we won't let it work. Never! You have my word as your captain. Even now, my crew is searching high and low for our friends in Starfleet. We're going to find them, we're going to rescue them, and we're going to show the Federation that it has friends here, good friends, friends who value their help...."

Morris says, "The mainframe is a portable SC42-D3 unit. Much less powerful than a starship's main computer, of course, but more than sufficient for our purposes. It has all of our reports and data since we arrived. It doesn't have to be connected to anything - you can access, input and download directly from it, and it has its own display screen. It's codelocked, though, and I doubt the Iotians could access any of it. Unless...." He looks worried.

High above them, on the Yorktown, Thalen acknowledges Kylah's report. "We'll begin scanning for the unit at once, Ensign. Stand by."

Collins casually moves so that she is behind her two crewmates in order that they block the view of her taking out her communicator. As she moves she whispers to Rangin and Garcia "I wonder how he knows? I wonder if he's really behind it?"

She signals Graham "Collins here," she says as quietly as possible and still be heard on the other end. "Krako knows about the kidnapping. Wanna ask Morris how that can be?"

Graham turns his attention from the team and Morris' worried look to take Collins' hail. (In fact, he's relieved it's not trouble given that she's been saddled with Rangin.)

"Will do, L-T," Graham replies. "FYI our kidnappers didn't take boo from the weapons locker, but they did make off with the outpost's mainframe."

He lifts his head away from the communicator. "Hold that thought - sorry to interrupt," he says. "Morris, the other team's found out that Krako knows about the kidnapping. Any ideas how or why?"

As earlier stated, Collins and her shipmates are seated, and the auditorium is too packed for her to do that and not be noticed by the many Iotians around. She thinks she got away with it this time, though the likelihood that she will be seen increases with each passing second.

Morris frowns. "Krako has people everywhere. It's possible he had this house under surveillance when the kidnapping took place, or he's heard since from his sources among the other capos - in or out of the Syndicate."

Kylah, still waiting for Lt. Thalen, hears Graham's words to Morris. Her mouth parts slightly with her inhale. She struggles to remember the various gangs and syndicates and names. "Excuse me, sir, did you say... this Krako, the same man who is the Syndicate leader's rival? He told them he knows about the kidnapping? How could they have made contact with such an important man so quickly? And why would he have revealed such knowledge to our team? Unless..." She bites her lip as her imagination tries to pull the scarce facts together. "Perhaps he caught them out, and captured them. Or at least one of them. And Lt. Collins--that was her, was it not? Did she sound nervous? As if she were hiding?"

Collins quickly sits down, and decides that, here on in, she will text.

Graham rubs his chin, thinking over Morris' comments. "Each player keeping an eye on our people does make sense," he replies. He's pulled out of reflecting on the information by Ens. Kylah's comment.

"Ah--actually, I didn't think much about it, but there was a lot of noise--it kind of sounded like Collins was at a--I don't know, a party or a concert or something."

He clears his throat. "I don't think she was in danger. Uh, so, Morris - you'd seemed alarmed about the mainframe a minute ago--?"

Krako talks for a few more minutes and then wraps up his speech, saying, "A new day is dawning, and this world will never be the same. If you've already joined the ranks of the Krako Federation, thank you, and I know you're ready for the work ahead. If you haven't joined yet, I hope you will today. Onward, my friends, onward to victory!"

The crowd cheers loudly and many people surge forward, trying to shake Krako's hand as he greets people along the edge of the stage. Most of the audience head for the exits, talking excitedly.

Morris says soberly, "I was thinking, whoever took the mainframe might not be able to hack it, but they could try to threaten or torture my shipmates into revealing the code."

Thalen reports from the Yorktown, "Mr. Roble has some ambiguous sensor readings that might be the mainframe, about eight km south of your current location."

Collins turns to her shipmates. "I suggest keeping an eye on Krako, and when the crowd thins out, approach him and ask how he knows about the kidnapping." She looks to Rangin for confirmation or a different plan.

As Collins speaks, she and her shipmates are jostled again by those streaming for the exits.

Collins' hands tighten around her bag.

Kylah looks in disbelief at Mr. Graham, then turns away slightly so her expression is not too visible. Obviously he trusts Collins more than he does Kylah, because he seems unconcerned and even incurious about where she is, much less how she could possibly have spoken to Jojo Krako already.

After a deep inhale, she reports: "Lt. Thalen says that they have picked up a reading that might be the mainframe. Eight kilometers from our current position." Back into her communicator, she says, "Thank you very much, Lieutenant. Is it possible to give us approximate coordinates? It is probably unwise for us to beam there, since we wish to avoid witnesses, so any details will help us travel ourselves."

Collins is able to hold onto her bag despite the milling crowd.

"Yes," says Thalen. "Here are the coordinates." He reads them off, and they also appear on the tiny screen of Kylah's communicator texting panel.

"Thank you, sir. We will report when we have further information." Kylah is tempted to ask if Lt. Thalen knows whether they have heard from the other half of the landing party, but something--perhaps reluctance to show concern for Mr. Rangin--keeps her silent.

She ends the conversation while keeping the communicator open so she can view the screen, and holds it out hesitantly, almost as if offering it to the others. "Excuse me, Lt. Morris? Have you a map of the city available? We should be able to use these coordinates to identify the streets in the vicinity, which will allow us to hail another taxicab. Once we are there, perhaps my tricorder--or yours, Dr. T'Var--might pick up any unusual readings that could be due to Federation technology."

Belatedly she realizes how presumptuous she must sound. Her face warm, Kylah glances over at the current team leader, deferring to him. "...If you think that is a good idea, Mr. Graham."

Graham clasps his hand behind his backand (mostly unconsciously) starts to pace.

"The mainframe is a good lead," he says, addressing the group generally.

He pauses. "I agree with your recommendation, Mr. Kylah," he adds, nodding in her direction. "Let's get our feet wet, get a better sense of what's going on. If we're followed from here--well, I'd bet Yorktown could pick up the pattern of a vehicle tailing ours for almost eight kilometers: so much the better."

He scowls slightly. "Lt. Morris, can you give us a five-minute education just in case things go south:

What's the local currency, and can you share some with us or do we need Yorktown to fabricate and beam us some?
The weapons locker was secure, which is encouraging - do you know if the kidnapped team would have been carrying phasers?
Ens. Kylah's right about a map - and do you know anything about the area Yorktown pinpointed?"

Morris says, "Of course. The dollar is the local currency, just like in Old Chicago. I have several hundred dollars myself, which should cover our expenses at least for today. I'm sure the ship could create more - it's hardly counterfeit-proof. I don't know if my shipmates had phasers; if they did, they probably would've been disarmed when they were captured. We have maps for the whole planet, including this city. But that particular area... no, I'm not familiar with it."

Rangin gestures the other two off to one side away ftom the streaming crowd to somewhere slightly more discreet. When he can he turns to the others and lowers his voice.

"I don't think it would be wise to confront Krako now, there may well be a good reason as to how he knows if he is not responsible. There may even be other players in this we don't know about beyond Okmyx. Let's gather some more information first."

Rangin casts an eye back over the area before looking at them. "Garcia, why don't you see what the requirements are for signing up? Collins, how about you and I go up and ask what we can do to help find the missing officers and see what they know?"

Garcia says, "Aye, sir." He pauses for a moment, looking around, and then begins moving with the crowd towards the exit and the Krako aides who were there.

"Yes, sir" Collins agrees. She'll follow Rangin's lead when they to Krako and his staff.

Kylah waits for Lt. Morris to lead them to the maps, but he finishes without any indication that he plans to do so. She eyes Mr. Graham, grateful that he approves of her idea, and shrugs slightly in a sort of confused, impatient gesture. Then she returns her attention to the other man. "So... will you show me the map, please, sir? Maybe you will recognize the address, or at least the area."

While looking at Morris, something odd occurs to her. Despite learning that the upstairs had been ransacked and items taken, Lt. Morris has shown no interest in checking his own belongings. Strange. I would not be so passive if I had learned someone had invaded my room or stolen things--

Of course. Why has she not empathized with the current prisoners more? Kidnapping, theft, invasion of privacy... she knows it all too well. Perspiration dampens her forehead. Visions of her broken zither, then Zweller's note on her bedside table, the thugs who attacked her, and finally Zweller himself... they all alternate in her mind and cause a swell of nausea.

Kylah clamps her jaw shut to control herself. I must do my job. Focus. Get them back. After swallowing, she blurts: "Wait, Lt. Morris! Please," she adds in a more controlled manner, continuing tactfully: "I--I just realized we have not given you time to check whether anything--other than technology--was taken from you. You must be anxious to find out. I can go with you, and coordinate the map and our data while you look."

She brushes a hand across her forehead to push her damp curls away, then sends an intense look at the Vulcan beside her. "Dr. T'Var, you may have already mentioned this, but did see any signs of a struggle?" Kylah does not wish to be too indelicate. These are Lt. Morris's friends, or at least team members. Still, she has to ask, "Did your tricorder pick up any indications of... injuries?"

Rangin and Collins approach the edge of the stage. There are still a lot of people there, at least five deep, eager to shake hands with and talk to Krako. You are both jostled again several times.

Dr. T'Var says, "I cannot be sure if the disordered condition of the rooms upstairs is due to a struggle or a simply a careless or hurried search. My tricorder scan revealed no blood or other body fluids that might indicate injuries."

Morris replies to Kylah a little nervously, "Sure, let's go take a look. The maps are up there, too." He and Kylah go upstairs. She sees that there is a long main hallway off of which eight rooms open - five bedrooms, Morris explains, as well as a bathroom, an office and a storage room. As T'Var said, the place has been ransacked, with clothes, books and other items strewn about. In the office, which is also a mess, Morris rummages around a bit and finally pulls out a map of the city. He asks for the coordinates Thalen provided, and then indicates various places on the map. "Here we are, and there are the Syndicate headquarters, and here... let's see, over here in this general area, would be the mainframe, if those readings are correct."

Downstairs in the living room, T'Var has just said, "Mr. Graham, I wonder if...." when there is a click from the front hall.

Kylah watches Lt. Morris's search, his anxious response nagging guiltily at her. She has not taken his emotional state seriously enough. In addition to being worried for his teammates, he must feel ambivalent about his having escaped capture--relief and guilt can often comingle in situations like this.

And, of course, whoever took the others is searching for him. The man has a target painted on his back, and now Kylah has asked him to view the messy remains of what appears to have been the kidnappers' search.

Now she examines the map as he has pointed it out to her, nodding and trying to estimate how far the potential mainframe location is from the Syndicate headquarters.*

Then Kylah places a gentle hand on Lt. Morris's arm, just briefly. "Thank you, this is very helpful," she says gently. "I am sorry, I know it is unpleasant to see such disarray. We can go downstairs now, if you are satisfied that nothing else is missing." She hesitates with a new thought, then adds, "For that matter, have you noticed whether there is anything that they did not take, but might have left behind accidentally--such as data storage files or anything else they might not have recognized?"


* Hint hint?

Morris looks touched by Kylah's concern, but then visibly pulls himself together. "Good question. I don't know. I suppose I should look around a bit more myself up here; I might spot something Dr. T'Var missed...."

Graham arches an eyebrow and raises one finger to his lips, signaling for silence. He draws his phaser and gestures for T'Var to move the opposite side the hallway back to the front hall from him; he move to have as close to a 45 degree angle on it as possible, and holds a hand up to indicate they should wait a moment.*

*The upshot being if their relative starting positions are (say) Graham is to right and T'Var is to the left, he'll move further right and indicate she should move left - or vice versa.

T'Var nods and silently does as Graham indicates.

A few seconds later, the black metal snout of a machine gun pokes out from the front hallway, tentatively followed by the head of a clean-shaven man, his eyes narrowed, wearing a fedora.

"Of course, sir, that is a good idea," Kylah says. "Dr. T'Var is very thorough, but she could not know your belongings as well as you." She lifts the map slightly. "Thank you for this. I will be downstairs--I would like to scan it and transmit a copy to my colleagues. This could be of great assistance if something happens and we are separated."

With a little encouraging nod, she turns and leaves the room. She walks slowly downstairs, distracted while using her tricorder to take an image of the map. By the time she reaches the landing, she has finished, and stops in place where the stairs join with the corridor in order to send the scanned image to each of the teammates' communicators. Her concentration is entirely focused on the tiny screen.

"You know that wall doesn't mean shit to a Federation weapon," Graham says forcefully and evenly, weapon trained on the man (knowing that it's on stun but the interloper doesn't). "So put yours on the floor and your hands over your head."

The man immediately withdraws his head. "We don't want any trouble!" he, or someone with him, calls from out of sight, still in the front hall. "President Okmyx, he just wants to talk with youse."

Rangin scans the groups of Krako's aides and looks for a lone person or a pair who seem busy and talking to the associated crowd.

"I'm guessing most of them are involved in one way or another so should know something about what is going on," he asides to Collins. When he sees someone talkative, he nods to Collins for her to follow him and he walks up to them.

"Hola. We hear you have some missing people, you're...ah...concerned about. We'd like to help out if we can, you know, help find them." Rangin tries his hardest not to start mimicking the accent.

Graham wonders briefly why underworld machismo and slang displays so much constancy across time and space.

Keeping his weapon aimed, and nodding in her direction to indicate T'Var should do the same, he replies.

"We's don't want any trouble, neither." His tone remains firm but he makes it a bit more friendly. "So how's about this: youse stacks your...pieces," he says, running through old vids he's seen "in the hallway and come in with your hands where we can see 'em. And then we'll have a sit-down."

"Maybe a couple of the dames will make some tea," he adds, not sure whether the affectation will make him more credible or get him phaser -stunned by T'Var.

There is one man in Science blue with a lieutenant's stripes whose attention Rangin is able to get. The "lieutenant" says, a little warily, "Hey, that'd be great. What can you do? Do you know something about it already, other than what Capt. Krako said?"

In the house's living room, Graham and T'Var listen intently. "Listen," says the voice from the front hall, "I'm Kalo, the President's chief of security. We're not gonna disarm, OK? This is our turf, our world. Why don't youse just come along with us, and we'll protect youse so youse don't get bagged like the other Feddies. Youse got my word on it."

http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Kalo

"You know that wall doesn't mean shit to a Federation weapon."

Mr. Graham's harsh tone and language abruptly rip Kylah's focus away from the map. She is shaken and her immediate question is, why is he so angry with Dr. T'Var?

About to speak, she is interrupted by an unfamiliar male voice from somewhere near the front hall. Understanding floods her mind and adrenaline rushes through her body. Instinctively she shrinks backwards, her tricorder and communicator hidden between her and the wall of the stairwell.

Her first coherent thought turns to Lt. Morris--if he comes downstairs now, he might reveal his presence and make things even more dangerous. I must get up to him and keep him safe. Kylah looks back out at the hallway, where she can see no one... and it doesn't seem that anyone has seen her, either. She takes a silent, deep breath and stealthily ascends the stairs, her small frame a blessing when it comes to preventing creaks or other sounds. The entire time, she does not exhale.

If she successfully makes it back to the upper floor, she will rush to find Lt. Morris, close the door behind her and put a hand on his mouth to prevent him from speaking. "Do not be alarmed," she whispers, belatedly realizing her manner is probably not conducive to Morris's remaining calm. "There is a man downstairs. Probably more than one. Dr. T'Var and Ensign Graham are handling the matter. I will keep you up here--I do not know if this stranger is aware you are with us or not. But I have a weapon and can guard you. Do you understand, sir?"

She looks at Morris to determine if he understands and will follow her instructions.

Only then it occurs to her to wonder how the strangers found them in the first place. They were not followed, at least not that she or Mr. Graham noticed, nor were there any people in the street to see the pair of them entering the building. Even if there had been, they would only have seen two seemingly 20th-century-era citizens. So how were she and Mr. Graham caught out as Federation so quickly? We have missed something, somewhere. But I do not see how.

Kylah has been seen by no one downstairs. She makes no noise as she returns to the second-floor office; Morris is startled by what she says but then quietly replies, "I understand." He silently puts down the sheaf of Iotian papers through which he was looking.

Kylah gives Morris what she hopes is a confident nod, then takes her phaser and moves to the edge of the closed door, trying to listen in on whatever might be happening downstairs.

Before he responds to the man in the fake uniform, Rangin turns round to identify the commotion quickly realising that it could be Garcia in trouble. "What the..?" The sentence trails off as he looks across.

Graham almost sighs. "All right, 'Kalo,'" he replies, in no hurry. "I'm guessing you know the Federation isn't about throwing its weight around if it doesn't have to. So here's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna stow my piece, grab a char, and come over to the doorway. I'm gonna put that chair down, and have a seat, and then we can have a face-to-face conversation."

With his free hand he flips his communicator open. "I'm also guessing you know what that sound means." He speaks into the communicator loudly enough to be overheard in the hallway. "Graham to Yorktown. Security priority. If my life signs change from anything but the picture of health beam any Iotians within 10 meters of me into open space." He texts furiously with his thumb. TRANSPOTR STASIS WLDBGUD

"If you don't know what 'open space' means, Kalo," he adds, "I suggest you ask now before you do anything that makes it a real up close and personal experience, because I'm on my way," he concludes, looking to grab the most portable seat he can see.

Kylah can faintly hear what sounds like Graham's voice coming from downstairs.

Rangin sees that Garcia is talking to a woman in the doorway; she is wearing Starfleet uniform. His shipmate seems to be all right. The crowd is thinning a bit now as the auditorium empties.

"OK, go ahead," Kalo says from the house's front hall. "We won't shoot. But take it nice and slow, pally."

Graham sees that there is a light wooden chair with dark red upholstery along the wall nearby. Seconds later, his communicator shows the texted reply, Understood. Ready for possible beamout and transporter stasis. Standing by. CHEVEREZ.

dp

Since Rangin is momentarily distracted, Collins answers "Not a lot. Just that some guys were grabbed from a house."

Concerned that Mr. Graham seems to be handling this alone--Where is Dr. T'Var?--Kylah presses her ear more tightly against the crack and lowers her free hand to curl around the doorknob, turning very slowly to determine if she can open it without being heard.

Her gaze flicks over to Lt. Morris and she whispers, "Have you found anything?"

The fake Science lieutenant asks Collins, "What had you heard before you came here? Do you know who took them, or where they might have been taken?"

Morris lifts his hands frustratedly and tells Kylah, "The place is just a mess. I can't tell what was taken, and what might just have been moved or lost underfoot."

"We ain't hoid nuthin'," Collins says hoping to sound more like a local and less like an outsider, "jus' dat someone was took. So me and him, we taut dat maybe we could, y'know, help." Rangin! Pay attention! I'm floundering here! she thinks at her companion.

Graham estures to a position closer to his but out of sight of the front hall, then points two fingers toward his eyes, and then points toward the front of the house and then with greater emphasis the back of the house to indicate T'Var should stay alert for any movement from either direction.

Not sure why I am sure a doctor will get those signals, but I am...

Graham stows his weapon and grasps the chain with both hands on its top--clearly visible--and slowly ambles toward the doorway.

Once there (--if all goes well--) he intends to place it slowly down in front of him, disarmingly raise his hands, and move slowly from behind the chair to in front of it, sitting down, crossing his legs, and placing his hands on his knee.

The Iotian Starfleet-wannabe says, "I see. Well, perhaps we can find something for you to do. I'm Lt. Zom Fesek, by the way." He holds out his hand. "What's your name?"

T'Var nods to Graham and makes an "OK" sign with her fingers. She has her phaser-1 out and at the ready.

Graham sits down and sees four men in sharp Twenties suits in the front hallway; each is holding what he recognizes as a "Tommy gun,"* notorious for their wide usage in Chicago in this era (the Enterprise reports had mentioned them). The men are not quite pointing their guns at him, but neither are they pointing them completely away.

"So," says the man who earlier identified himself as Kalo, a tall, lean, dark-haired man, "how can I persuade youse and your friends to come meet with President Okmyx?" He smiles slightly. "I know he'd really like to meet youse."

*https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thompson_submachine_gun

Rangin snaps back to the conversation. "Sorry, thought I heard something. Yeah, we'd like to help out." He reaches across and shakes Fesek's hand, "Mr. Rangin, Velir to my friends."

"Well, I suppose we should feel honored, seeing as he's president and all," Graham replies, shrugging slightly. 'You could start by explaining how you--youse--got that door open?" he says, careful not to budge his hands, instead making a slight gesture toward it with his chin.

"Oh--and also, before anything unfortunate and...messy...happens, making sure no one is trying to get in the back, because we have that covered."

Fesek says, "Nice to meetcha. Say, have you met the Captain yet?"

Kalo shrugs. "We been watchin' the place. Have some boys with binoculars who saw you come in, and they took notes on the entry code. Easy as pie. As for getting in the back... hey, don't worry about it."

Graham nods in return. "Binoculars...simple but effective."

He allows his next shrug to move his hands slightly, to see how this crew reacts.

"So's what does Mr. President want to talk about?"

The gangsters, er, armed gentlemen watch you closely but do not otherwise react.

Kalo takes a seat on one of the front-hall chairs, crosses his legs and replies, "The kidnapping of your fellow Feddies, of course. Mr. Okmyx, I know, wants to assure you he had nothing to do with it. He'd like to know how we can help you find 'em again."

"Not yet," Collins says, "may we?"

"Sure," says Fesek. He glances over at Krako; the crowd around him is thinning a bit now. "Give me a second."

Rangin looks across through the crowd. It isn't something he expects to do, meet the second in command of a planet while undercover at a rally in support of the Federation.

"Thanks," Rangin says quietly not wanting to distract Fesek and looks across to Collins to see what she is thinking. He gives her a slight nudge with his elbow while Fesek is facing in the other direction to get her attention before Krako turns up and wonders if she has any kind of plan?

Collins starts a bit when Rangin nudges her, then faces him to give him her attention.

"What do you think?" Rangin quietly whispers to Collins while Fesek appears otherwise distracted in gaining Krako's attention.

"I think we get Garcia and meet with the guy," Collins suggests, "If we can meet with him without any of his "lieutenants", maybe we can let him know who we really are and how much we really know. I also think we should let Graham and the others know what's going on."

"Well, that's welcome news," Graham replies, slowly raising one hand to rub his chin. "If you'd be so kind as to let us know where he is, we can all be there in a snap, so to speak" he adds, using that same hand to lightly snap his fingers.

Kalo smiles. "Wanna do that sparkly disappearing-reappearing thing? The b- the President already told me he don't want us to do that. I guess he's old-fashioned that way. C'mon, we'll take you all to him - no problem."

"Agreed on meeting Krako and possibly letting him know, but let's keep Garcia out of it until we know more. Anything goes wrong he can get news to the others." Rangin is still not sure how involved Krako is in the case of the disappearing officers, and doesn't want to give everything away.

"Also, if either of us gets a spare moment, contact Graham."

Graham shrugs. "I can see how the sparkly-disappearing thing can take some getting used to."

He stands up slowly, his hands always in front of him. "Well, to be honest I appreciate the civilized nature of our discussion so far. So seeing as I'm in charge of this Feddy group here, I'm inclined to accept your invitation." He pauses. "Only thing is--just to be clear, so all of youse..." He glaces from Kalo to each of the others. "..Undertsand how the sparkly-disappearing thing works, our colleagues were bushwhacked while there was no ship in orbit. Now that one is, they can see exactly how we're doing, minute by minute, and if any of us should spring any holes, they can sparkly disappear and re-appear anybody nearby anywhere they see fit--like outer space. Or the middle of the ocean. Or an active volcano."

He turns back to Kalo. "Just sos we're clear on keeping things civilized." He extends a hand. "I'm Graham, by the way. Booker Graham."

"Well, if Garcia isn't going to join us, I'll just message him and Graham at the same time" Collins states, and faces Rangin so her back is towards Fesek when he returns. She types a quick update about their whereabouts and plan, and sends it to Garcia and Graham.

Collins's texts go through. Garcia is still in her line of sight, not far away, in the doorway. He discreetly peeks at his communicator and then looks up questioningly at Collins.

Kalo's eyes widen a little at Graham's description of the Yorktown's transporter's capabilities, but he takes Graham's hand and shakes it with a firm grip, his Tommy gun tucked under his other arm. "Sure, pally," he says, "no problem. Like I said, the President just wants to talk; he's not lookin' for any trouble. You, uh, gonna call your other friends in the house to come join us?"

Graham returns the handshake with equal firmness. "We'll be ready in a couple minutes." He pauses briefly and gestures toward the door. "Obviously, with the security code to that door compromised--no offense--we'll have to take some steps to restore security before we leave. Why don't you gentlemen relax for a few, and we'll be right out."

He feels his communicator buzz and, in addition to talking to the team here privately, would prefer to review any intel from the other team privately as well.

Kalo looks at Graham warily and says, "OK. We'll wait right here."

Rangin shifts his position slightly to stand between Collins and Fesek just to provide a little cover.

Graham nods amiably, and casually keeps his hands in view as he back up, then turns and goes into the other room, slowly given that he knows T'Var is there.

"All clear," he starts to say as he anticipates coming into her view.

He gives the doctor a thumbs up. "These guys want to talk...I'll give you the rundown in a moment--can you round up the others by the kitchen* while I see what the word is from Collins?"

He checks the message he received.



*I believe the kitchen is a reasonable distance and and out of sight of the guys waiting in the foyer.

Yes, the kitchen would serve for that purpose. Graham reads Collins's text.

T'Var nods, and texts Kylah and Morris: Come downstairs to the kitchen. We have visitors from President Okmyx, and Mr. Graham would like to meet. T'VAR.

Kylah has listened as best she could through the door, though the voices have been muffled. The sudden silence worries her. Now she gets the text message from Dr. T'Var and she bites her lip in consternation, glancing from her communicator to Lt. Morris. It seems strange that T'Var is contacting her when Mr. Graham should be in charge. It almost feels like a trap.

"I... I am reluctant to respond immediately," she says very quietly. "These men should not know you are here--if they were watching this building, they only saw two of us enter. And I am surprised that Mr. Graham would truly risk revealing your presence, which could lead to your capture. Let me make certain everything is secure first."

Quickly she dashes off a note to Graham. Sir, before I continue I would like confirmation of your identity, please. What planet did we visit most recently? She hopes that a man with his knowledge of strategy will know to tell the truth if all is well, and lie if he is being coerced.

Graham realizes he had no reason to assume the message was from Collins other than his hope she'd be exercising tactical control even if Rangin was still in charge, and not wanting to read any of Rangin's smarmy bullshit.

He's gratified. In some ways a cult of Feddy--either as an authentic movement or a power play--makes sense given what he's been briefed on about their memetic culture.

Kylah's note catches his by surprise. Anubis? Or do you mean OC3? he texts back. Is everything OK? he adds quickly.

Mr. Graham's response relieves Kylah, and she exhales as she types: Yes, Mr. Graham. I was concerned that your message might have come from the visitors. I did not know what happened downstairs. Also, since two of us beamed here directly, I do not believe the Iotians could have observed them, or know that there are more than two of us in the building. Is it wise to expose Lt. Morris's presence to them, by revealing our precise number? She hesitates, shaking her head to herself. Forgive me if this is an abundance of caution, but I want to ensure the safety of the man in my charge.

Garcia walks back to Rangin and Collins just as Fesek brings Krako over to the edge of the stage. Fesek says, "Captain, these folks say they may be able to help us find the missing Feddies."

"Is that right?" asks Krako, clearly interested. Rangin and Collins can see from this close that his Starfleet uniform, just like others they've seen Iotians wearing, isn't quite regulation in cut or fabric. "We could use the help. C'mon, let's talk." He gestures for you to follow and starts towards the door beside the stage.

Graham smiles slightly, impressed by--and, in point of fact, proud of the young ensign. Nothing to apologize for. That's good thinking. We're safe for the moment. In fact I could use your expertise we play out the invitation we've gotten to talk with Okmyx.

Collins waits for Rangin and Garcia to follow Krako so she can watch the rear.

Rangin nods to obvious man in charge not wanting to ruin the atmosphere, while wondering why on earth Garcia came back to join them seeing as he had asked Collins to make sure Garcia knew he was backup. Maybe he should have made the comms call himself just to make sure, but as of now it didn't matter. The three of them are in it up to about waste height, and Rangin only hoped that he would get an opportunity to find out later in more serene circumstances, but regardless he leads them on.

"Figure it would be good to lend a hand. Not sure how much we can help out, but I'm always in line to find out what we can do."

Following Krako, Fesek guides the three Starfleet personnel to an elaborately-decorated meeting room in the back of the building. A large wooden table in the room is ringed by well-upholstered chairs. Several big men in ill-fitting red-shirted uniforms stand silent guard at the door, which they close behind you, and along the walls. Fesek sits down. Krako goes over to a bar and pours himself a big drink from a decanter. He asks, "You want something? Some great booze here."

Morris asks Kylah, "Should we go downstairs, then...?"

"Just some coffee," Collins says pleasantly, then quickly adds "with no booze, please, thanks." She smiles at Krako and his crew.

"Veek," Krako says to one of the mooks, "go get the lady a coffee, would ya?"

Kylah looks at Lt. Morris, not comfortable with bringing him downstairs even with Mr. Graham's encouragement.

"Yes," she says slowly. "Although I wish we could alter your appearance in some way. If one of the women in your group had some cosmetics, I could draw a convincing thin mustache... Admittedly I have never seen a mustache on a Starfleet officer, that I can recall. It does not seem to be regulation. On the other hand, the local people are hardly likely to know that. What do you think?" Gnawing at a thumbnail, she continues to ponder. "Also, is there a back stairwell to the kitchen? My knowledge of old Earth is sketchy, but I do know old buildings like this often had servants' passageways to keep them from being seen by their employers and others of the upper classes."

Morris smiles at the suggestion of a mustache. "If the people downstairs are really from Okmyx, they're probably going to recognize me anyway. I know most of his entourage. Yes, there is a back stairway to the kitchen. We don't use it much, but it's there."

Kylah nods. She wishes she felt more confident, more competent. She doubts she is any more skilled than Lt. Morris at defensive fighting; neither of them have specialized in action. But she fakes certainty. "That is good," she says, slipping her communicator back into her sash and pulling out her phaser. "We will take those stairs, then. I am sure Ensign Graham and Dr. T'Var will be prepared to protect you."

She hesitates, waiting for him to guide her to the back stairs, and then moves ahead of him so she can descend first. She murmurs, "I promised you, when I first spoke with you while on the Yorktown, that we would keep you safe. I will keep that promise as best I can, sir."

Rangin urges himself to keep moving forward realising he will be stepping into a crime boss' lair replete with goons and trouble and is normally averse to such situations. But he is responsible for the three of them and so is going to do his best not to get them killed. His eyes flicker around the room quickly counting each redshirted goon, seeing how each one is is lounging, what weapons each are carrying, probably some local guns hidden away in some pocket. He tries not to smile too much at the thought that Graham would fit in right alongside the muscle in this room, and hopes that T'Var is managing to keep a muzzle on that maniac.

"No thank you sir," he answers calmly to Krako indicating an acknowledgement of the uniform he is wearing. Rangin wouldn't dream of accepting anything at this time, maybe once he had earned it from Krako he wouldn't be put in any precarious position for the action. Then again, Collins ordering a coffee might be different enough to throw the group slightly, perhaps be a little more intrigued by the three of them. He waits for Krako to start speaking, or more likely, asking questions.

Morris nods nervously. "Thank you, Ensign. I appreciate that." He follows Kylah downstairs. Dr. T'Var is already in the kitchen, which looks like a typical Twenties kitchen but with some subtle Federation tech.

Garcia also declines a drink. Rangin sees that none of Krako's men is obviously armed.

Krako takes a big gulp from his drink and throws himself into a chair. "So, anyway... where you from? What got you interested in my Federation? Did you like the rally?"

Collins decides to let Rangin do the talking. She doesn't want to say anything that will tip their hand. She just sips her coffee.

Graham's wondering what the delay is in Kylah and Morris coming downstairs and briefly debates what to do - but in any event he isn't going up there without T'Var being on station to make sure the goons stay put. With one glance back toward the foyer he pokes his head in the kitchen.

He blinks once, then puts together two and two. Rather than hassle Kylah about keeping him posted (or not), he concludes on balance encouragement is the right command decision.

"Abundance of caution, Mr. Kylah. Good idea in present company," he says, pointing over this shoulder with one thumb. He gestures for the group to gather closer, and speaks in a low voice.

"OK - apparently, Krako has some kind of wanna-be Federation thing going on. Per their update sounds like Collins and the team are set up to talk with him. For our part, there's a group of...uh, gentlemen...offering to escort us to talk to Okmyx. Reason being he's shocked by the abduction and wants to help." He rolls his eyes. "Well, we'll see about that. I've emphasized what transporters can do if they double cross us. My call is we play it out and see what he has to say. Questions? Input?" He glances at T'Var first out of respect for both her rank and giving him operational command, then to Kylah and Morris.

The mook leaves and soon returns with a china mug of coffee for Collins. It is bitter and not especially hot.

T'Var says, "We would have to speak to Mr. Okmyx eventually anyway, but I cannot say I am pleased to do so under these circumstances."

Morris rubs his chin. "I'm inclined to agree. But I have no better ideas for now, Mr. Graham."

yuck! thinks Collins after the first sip, but, hey. it's coffee. She resists the urge to outwardly grimace, and takes small sips, just for the jolt.

The muscles in Kylah's stomach relax--she has not even realized how tense she was until now--when both Dr. T'Var and Lt. Morris express their reservations about leaving with these gangsters. She does not want to be thought a coward, but Dr. T'Var already knows some of her failings, and Mr. Graham even more of them. So Kylah exhales her own response in a whispered rush: "I agree, I do not think we should go. At least, not with Lt. Morris. We could be handing him to the very people who captured his colleagues." If only he would let us beam him to the ship for safety, she thinks, although she understands his desire to help search for his friends.

Wishing she could think of a solid plan, Kylah can only shake her head. "Still, it is an opportunity to meet with the leader. Perhaps two of us should go? And one stay behind with Lt. Morris?"

"Around," replies Rangin before smoothly continuing onwards, "Saw the rally being held from a while away, quite a few people dressing for the occasion you might say and wanted to see it for my own eyes. I've heard a bit, well who hasn't, and it would be a shame to miss an opportunity like this."

Rangin wonders what angle to take with him. General philanthropy on this planet would be unlikely. Enlightened self-interest, a chance to be in towards the top, that's more like it. "Times are a-changing and from what you said tonight, it's something I'd like to be part of. So, I figure I'd see if we can lend a hand looking for that missing group. It'd be a start, at least."

The coffee gets no better as Collins sips it.

Morris shakes his head in response to Kylah's suggestion. "Sorry, no. Where you go, I go. This is important to me, and besides, there's strength in numbers."

"'Around,' huh?" Krako asks Rangin. His eyes narrow a little. "Care to be more specific? I know most of the folks in this town, and I don't think I've seen any of you before."

Kylah clamps her jaw tightly shut and hopes she did not offend Lt. Morris. She casts him an understanding glance and then focuses on Mr. Graham, an idea striking her. "Before we anger them by refusing their invitation--if it really is an invitation and not a threat--with your permission, sir, I would like to ask questions of them. Their story is... not convincing. Why were they watching an empty building for days after the kidnapping had already taken place? Did they know that Lt. Morris was not among those taken and were hoping to see him return? And if so, how did they know?"

She nods toward the kitchen door before continuing in her hushed voice. "I think we should speak to them and pretend as if we do not know that one of the intended victims evaded capture. Act as if we are assuming the entire group is in peril. If they correct us, it will be enlightening. If they are unaware that we are wrong, it may show. I might be able--" Kylah stops abruptly and, embarrassed, looks at the Vulcan beside her. Dr. T'Var probably knows what she was about to say. But Kylah can no longer expect to be able to tell if they are lying. Her benumbed empathic abilities are so weak and unpredictable. Only if she manages to get in physical contact with one of them... that usually enhances her connection. But it is not reliable.

"--I might be able to trick them into revealing something," she finishes weakly. "But either way I think only you and I should go out there, Mr. Graham. We should maintain the façade that there are only a pair of us--those they saw enter the building." Biting her lower lip, she searches Mr. Graham's face. "Do you--do you agree, sir?"

Graham listens intently, then glances from Kylah to T'Var. He rubs his chin as he turns back to the young ensign.

"You raise a good point," he says slowly. "There's no need to show our hand by having Morris walk right out there straight off. And you'll be better at wheedling something out of them that me."

He nods. "Play it how you want to--I'll have your back," he says to Ens. Kylah. He shrugs and smiles slightly. "Just bear in mind I think an appointment with Okmyx is a good lead. The head good is named 'Kalo.'"

He addresses T'Var and Morris. "Assuming all goes well, we'll give you the green light. In fact I may juts blurt our that phrase."

"If you're ready--" he says to Kylah. He glances at Morris. "You know Kalo? Any advice for Mr. Kylah?"

T'Var nods at what Kylah says.

Morris says, "Kalo is Okmyx's right-hand man, his chief muscle and enforcer. He's not the sharpest blade in the drawer... but he's no fool, I'd say. He's pretty hard-nosed and efficient." He thinks a moment. "I don't think I've ever known him to be dishonest. By Iotian Mob standards, anyway, he's a man of his word."

"Actually, we've only just arrived in town" Collins offers. "We heard that this was a good place to find out about a new and different way of doing things." She hopes that will satisfy Krako's curiosity, and he'll drop it and get back to talking about the kidnapping.

Krako's eyes narrow, and he sets down his drink. "But where are you from?"

Kylah nods at Mr. Graham and the others, then has a moment of doubt when she looks down at her outfit. Will men from an ancient Earth-based culture take a woman seriously? These gangs seem very patriarchal, and she does not recall hearing of any female members other than hangers-on. Should she act weak and subservient to Mr. Graham, to boost his power in their eyes? I am subservient and weak compared to him, she realizes with a flood of shame. What would her mother--much less Elaan--think of what she has become?

She refocuses on the present. If these strangers dismiss her as nonthreatening--certainly she is, physically--it could be advantageous.

With a deep breath she fluffs her hair behind her shoulders to tame the curls, and then, after putting her phaser back in hiding, walks through the kitchen toward the front hall.

Oh just great, Krako is a paranoid lieutenant type who is going to see problems with everything and be difficult to dissuade and get back on track. Rangin wishes he had spent more time researching this backwards hole of an outpost or paying attention to the briefing, but then he really didn't think he would be in this position.

"Westside, Fresco way." If this planet is like old Earth, there should be a San Francisco like place. At least, as the home to the Academy, the three of them could be convincing about the location, whether or not it existed.

Kylah sees the men with suits, Fedoras and machine guns still standing in the front hall. They all look at her. One tilts his hat back a little and whistles.

"Fresco, eh?" repeats Krako, with a glance at one of his subordinates. "What neighborhood?" He says to Garcia and Collins, "Are you from there, too?"

Collins is tempted to blurt out Haight-Ashbury, but instead she just nods and smiles.

Kylah looks the men over and is careful not to react to the whistle as she normally would. She also stifles the instinct to check to see if Mr. Graham is behind her--and to assure that he will not react as he normally would to such a man. No, he is too smart to offend them over a tiny thing. He is not the thug Velir believes him to be.

The casual thought of Mr. Rangin causes a pang of regret in her chest, making her lungs heavy when she takes her next breath. And she had done so well until now...

After swallowing back her feelings, she tries to give a pleasant smile to the group. She realizes she does not know which is the leader. Her gaze takes them all in.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen. Forgive my not having come out earlier," she begins, her voice quiet but not timid. There is no point in hiding her formal, Elasian style of speech; she could not approximate this culture's jargon or typical mannerisms with any believability, not without a longer period of study. Instead she plunges on and hopes these strangers might be curious about a woman who is not only un-Iotian, but not even from the planet they so admire.

"My superior did not wish me to come out before we knew your intentions. I am Kylah, and am pleased to make your acquaintance." Despite her dislike of handshakes, Kylah raises her bare arm gracefully toward the group; her hand's gesture is, in fact, regal enough that a more genteel person of this culture, or perhaps a slightly earlier one, would likely consider kissing it. "May I ask which of you is Mr. Kalo?"

Garcia, after seeing Collins's reaction, says, "Uh... yeah, me too."

The tallest of the gangsters in the front hall, a thin-faced man with dark hair (not the one who whistled), takes Kylah's hand and shakes it, lingering just a little too long before releasing it. "I'm Kalo. The pleasure's all mine, Miss Kylah."

Graham's not sure how Kyla h intended to play things: he would have been unsurprised if she claimed to be in charge--which would have been OK with him if it fit in with her game plan.

But given the wolf-whistle response, he gets why she takes a different approach.

He rolls with it, standing behind her looking large and in charge, as it were.

No sense in challenging the lecherous mook: I'm sure the culture is look but don't touch among the "made guys," he thinks.

All discomfort over the too-close-for-comfort handclasp is hidden by Kylah's gracious smile. It occurs to her that at some point walking from the kitchen to these men, she seems to have unconsciously morphed into her mother.

"Kalo," she repeats with a slight glimmer of amusement in her eyes. "Do you know, there is a word in an Earth language, from the land of The Book, that is somewhat similar--'callow.' Yet it means naïve and inexperienced. Such words could never describe a man like yourself, not with the high position you hold."

Kylah lets her gently teasing, apologetic glance flicker over the other men, then back at the leader. "I beg your pardon for the digression, sir. I am a linguist, and my mind sometimes takes such fancies. But you are men of action and do not wish to waste time. This is serious business, and engaging in pleasant talk is not suitable..." While her words fade reluctantly, she blushes and shakes her head.

"Mr. Kalo, we are very worried about our five CAG colleagues. When they ceased their usual contact with their own bosses--" Kylah is fairly sure she has used the local term smoothly--"our ship was dispatched to determine what might have happened. Mr. Graham is a security expert, a powerful man much respected for his strength, intellect and strategic prowess. And I, simply because... well, like many of the missing, I specialize in culture and communication. Our bosses thought it best to have a small team so as to be unobtrusive. That also explains all this."

Kylah spreads her hands to display the dress, not coincidentally letting her fingers brush the material of her skirt slightly so it rustles upwards an inch. Then, innocently oblivious to the effect, she turns back to gesture to Mr. Graham--who, she is relieved to see, is indeed right behind her--and his own outfit. She hopes he does not think she is a fool.

Back to Kalo and the men. "At any rate, it would be disrespectful toward your culture to linger and disrupt you any more than we already have. Indeed, we have been ordered to head back to our ship very soon, after this initial search of our five missing colleagues' apartment. They wish to hear from us immediately, and in person. This is my first mission, you see," she improvises, lifting her chin as if pride will not let her apologize for her low rank. "And they need me to prove myself. I believe your Syndicate has similar tests for its members?"

Please play along, she prays. If they allow her to continue, it might confirm that they do not know about Lt. Morris. Or at least, that they do not wish her to know about him. Any correction and it might prove that they do indeed have useful knowledge. Either way, she just wants the chance to further the conversation and gain their trust.

"Interesting," Krako says, turning from Collins and Garcia and looking back at Rangin. "So again... what neighborhood?"

Kalo smiles a little uncertainly and says to Kylah, "Sure, whatever, lady. I just want to take you all to meet the President first. Mr. Graham had agreed, I thought."

Rangin looks back at the other two and shakes his head slightly, all the while looking round at the man Krako had glanced at before looking back at the man himself. Given that this is the second in command of the entire planet, Rangin begins to feel a little nervous, after all if he crews up here, who knows how much damage it could cause to interplanetary relations. Rangin is really beginning to dislike Captain Singh for putting him in this situation, let alone being in charge...and the next time Rangin has a bright idea, he'll probably get Collins to slip the sense out of him. It'll probably do less damage that way. And then both Kylah and Graham would get to have a good laugh at his expense, yeah, this is not all its cracked up to be.

"If you don't mind me saying sir, I think they are a little overawed by the situation," Rangin says truthfully, "I'll admit, I was just looking to lend a hand, get to know a few people, and not just have the opportunity to meet someone of your stature. As for where I'm out of, it's 'Lito, not Fresco." Rangin wonders if the others will get the reference. He resists the urge to ask what he can do to help or ask any other questions, because Krako would likely take offence at having to answer.

"You said Fresco before," Krako says dismissively, "and your buddies agreed with you. But I never heard of Fresco, and I sure as hell never heard of Lito." He smiles, his face a mask. "Fact is, I don't think you're from anywhere around here... not even from this planet, I'm bettin'." He jerks a thumb and says to his mooks, "Search 'em."

At once, his henchmen - two by the door, and four ranged around the walls - draw small handguns from behind their backs. "Get up and raise your hands," the one named Veek says, walking towards Rangin.

"Mr. Graham may have agreed," Kylah says, uncertain whether this is true; she does not think Graham told them he has already accepted. "But during your conversation, our captain contacted me and ordered us to return once the search was complete and we had finished speaking with you.

"Unfortunately," Kylah goes on hurriedly, "I will have to report that we found nothing here. And my boss will not be pleased." She exhales in consternation and lowers her voice. "If you rose through the ranks yourself, you must know what prestige one can gain if one completes a task successfully. All this said, your offer to take us to your leader is an extraordinary opportunity, one that changes everything. After all, our colleagues were, I believe, on amicable terms with you and the President, were they not?"

Clasping her hands together, Kylah leans forward, eyes shining in excitement. "Please, sir... is there anything you might tell us about the group's disappearance that I could bring to my superiors? Even just how you learned about it? If we have something to show for our efforts thus far, it would raise my bosses' confidence, which means they would certainly allow us to return. In fact, such added information might let us accept your invitation at once. ...If our captain feels that we have turned up something useful."

Kylah turns quickly to include her colleague behind her with a darting examination that mutely seeks approval for her tactic. Finally, she swivels again to share a hopeful, expectant gaze with the men, particularly Kalo.

Collins surreptitiously reaches for her phaser. Her plan is to grab it unseen, and stun Veek and the other mooks before they have a chance to aim their weapons.

Kalo says, "That's all stuff the b-- the President is gonna want to talk with all of you about." He says directly to Graham, "So are we ready? Let's go. Tick tock."

One of the mooks notices Collins's movement, and points his gun directly at her. "Don't even think about it, honey," he says.

Collins releases her phaser and shows her hands to be empty. She maintains an expressionless face.

"I am standing," responds Rangin to Veek, as he has been throughout the conversation, "I know I'm short, but please..." He doesn't bother responding to Krako, who obviously knew well in advance of this given that Rangin hadn't said he was from Fresco, just that area, and that Krako was just playing along to see what they were going to say.

The fact Krako is second in command, just makes matters worse as he is probably far more valuable to the Federation than the three of them. Of course, this particular scenario is precisely why he wanted Garcia nowhere near them, to be able to call for backup. Rangin sighs inwardly, it looks like they had been spotted a mile off.

At Collins movement and the call from the other mook, Rangin looks round slightly. "Take it easy," he calls out to the other two before turning back to Veek, slowly and carefully opening the front of his jacket and then raising his hands. The phaser and communicator may not show in the line of the suit, but they are going to be found by a decent shakedown.

Rangin starts to get a familiar, sinking feeling on the matter of dealing with mobsters.

"It's your call if you don't want to take one 'tick' to do a lady who might be grateful at looking good in front of our boss a little favor," Graham replies. He shrugs slightlt. "I thought it might be a win-win, so to speak."

He shakes his head slightly. "Not what I'd do in your shoes...all...things considered," he adds, making an hourglass-figure gesture with his hands. "Figure'd you'd have something to share given how johnny-on-the-spot you were spying on us entering the front door..." He shrugs again, glancing at Kylah and then back to Kalo. "But if that's the way you want it..."

Kylah, whose gaze remains on Kalo and thus cannot see her colleague, is nevertheless pleased by Mr. Graham's support. He seems better able to connect with these men than she is, given his casual tone, and so she simply maintains her hopeful and accommodating smile at the gangsters.

However, she did not miss the curious verbal hiccup from Kalo. She tries to fill in the blank regarding what he had been about to say, and comes up with two options--one of which gives a new spin to the dynamics within the organization. It seems prudent to bring up the president's name again, this time trying to corral her dim empathic abilities to see if she can notice anything unexpected in the second-in-command's emotional response.

As a test, she waits for Mr. Graham to finish and adds a quiet, "I truly would be very grateful if you would grant my request, Mr. Kalo. Unless you need to ask President Okmyx's permission, first?"

Rangin, Collins and Garcia are quickly and thoroughly searched, and their communicators, phaser-1s and Garcia's tricorder are taken and placed before Krako. He has a big, big smile. "Why didn't you say you were Feddies, I mean the real thing Feddies? I was hopin' you were. This is great!"

"Nah, I know what he wants," Kalo says. He gestures with his Tommy gun. "Let's go already. You gonna call the other two out, or should I?"

"Given a few of our colleagues have gone missing, I hope you can understand our caution in not being as open." Rangin replies politely watching over Krako to try and judge if good for him also means good for the three of them.

Graham points upward with one finger. "You'd better let me--unless you want you and your crew to be transported into a location exactly one mile up in the sky overhead, there to find your way back down to the ground as best you can--which is the order I left if anything went squirrely," Graham bluffs in straightforward, un-dramatic tone.

"Doc, green light for you all to join us," Graham says over his shoulder. "We're going to see President Okmyx," he adds as he turns back to give Kylah a nod and what he hopes is an encouraging nod.

Kalo holds up his hands at Graham's threat. "Hey, take it easy, pally. There's not gonna be any trouble, I told ya."

T'Var doesn't reply to Graham, but soon walks out of the kitchen with Morris. Kalo smiles at both and says, "Mo-Mo, good to see you again! Been too long - a lot has happened since, eh? Busy week. Hope we can help you figure out what happened to the others."

Morris returns the smile but doesn't look especially happy, Kylah notices. "Thank you, Kalo," the officer says. "I hope so, too."

"And you are...?" Kalo says to T'Var, with a very slight bow.

"T'Var," she says.

"Well, hello. What do you do up on your ship?"

She glances at Graham, and then says, "I am a doctor."

"A woman doctor, and a pointy-ears too, just like Spock, eh?"

She nods calmly. "I am a Vulcan, yes."

Kalo says, "A Vulcan, right. OK, nice to meetcha. We got cars waitin'. C'mon, let's go."

He leads you outside. Three long black Twenties touring cars are parked in a row along the curb. Another six mooks, Tommy guns in hand, straighten as Kalo and the others emerge from the Federation safe house. Two, Graham notices, are keeping an alert eye on the street and passing traffic.

Collins is a little surprised at Krako's reaction. She tags on to Rangin's statement. "But now that you know, what can you tell us about our missing colleagues?"

Krako spreads his hands. "I have my boys looking now, but so far, there've been very few leads. Believe me, nobody wants to have the CAG found more than me. I want closer ties with the Federation - I want this planet to be a member of the Federation, your Federation, someday soon - and incidents like this only hurt our cause. Okmyx is still clinging to The Book. He wants to keep his piece of the action. He can't let go of the old ways, and he thinks like he always has - that violence, kidnapping and gunplay is how this world ought to be run. But everyone in this room knows that's wrong."

Rangin takes a careful look round at the goons seeing if they look like they feel the same way as Krako.

"Yes, any leads you have on our colleagues would be useful, we might have a better chance in tracking some of them down, technically speaking."

Kylah, intimidated by the guns, would not be able to move if not for Mr. Graham's obvious intention to push them into attending this forced 'invitation.' She feels trapped in a whirl of confusing and seemingly inexplicable circumstances. Until Mr. Graham called for T'Var and Morris, Kylah was about to affect perplexity at the notion that two more were in the building, but that tactic was ruined. She tries not to show fear while being escorted toward the car, but so many threatening men are nearby that her face seems bloodless and every instinct is telling her to run.

Nothing seems to make sense. She does not know what to make of Morris's reaction, although Kalo's greeting seemed condescending and over-familiar. And Kalo's remark to Dr. T'Var--Kylah has been too crowded by others to see the other woman, but the last time Kylah saw her, she was wearing a cloche hat specifically to hide her Vulcan ears... so how could the gangster have seen them?

Most of all, how did he have been so certain that there were two more people in the building? Dr. T'Var and Lt. Morris beamed in, they were not in sight near the building. If they were watching through binoculars, they could only have seen Mr. Graham and Kylah herself outside the door. So how did Kalo find out the others were inside?!

The last question is the most worrying. Was there some listening device hidden in the building? Is this culture technically capable of such an invention? Or could they have received some inside information from Lt. Morris himself, while he was alone? Is that what lay behind his discomfort at Kalo's greeting?

Overwhelmed by such doubts and desperate to ignore the sickening sense of déjà vu from being surrounded by armed men, Kylah blindly reaches out for Mr. Graham's arm and slips her hand around his elbow. Anything to remind her that these circumstances are different from that warehouse on Anubis.

They walked out a good 100, 200 meters along the sandbar on the Gulf Coast of North America. Standing together to look at the sunset like they were alone in the universe in the middle of a warm ocean...

Outbound, their feet stayed dry, despite the roiling waves where the water was deeper, only a few meters away. Inbound, the incoming tide threw water across their path. Halfway back a particularly large wave reached up to Lizzy's knees, strong enough to make her wobble for a moment...

Startled, her hand snapped up as if by instinct to grab his elbow. She was getting older...soon she'd be a teenager. Old enough to not want rides on daddy's shoulders anymore, or even to hold his hand in public... But at the touch it's as if she were little again, raising her arms in front of him, insisting he pick her up.

His opposite hand moves to clasp hers with a gentle but strong grip. "It's OK," he says quietly, wondering how many times a young woman who takes after a strong-minded mother would ever turn to her father for reassurance ever again. "Don't worry, I'll never let go."

At the touch at his elbow, Graham's opposite hand moves without conscious thought to Kylah's and gives it a gentle squeeze.

And then...

He doesn't let go, but he's back in the moment, stirred by the wary attitude of Kalo's men.

"You expecting trouble?" Graham asks Kalo evenly.

Krako looks cannily at Rangin, and pushes the Starfleet gear back across the table to the three. "All right, let's help each other, then. Take your stuff back. I'm gonna have you go with... Bullo, and see if you might have better luck finding the CAG guys." He nods at one of his mooks, a large blond man in Science blue. "Check with HQ, Bullo, and see what you can find out, what the latest word is on the street."

"Aye, Captain," the man says.

"And change into your civvies," Krako says. "I think you're gonna want to blend for this gig, and our Starfleet friends are already in such nice Chicago threads." He grins.

Kalo says wryly to Graham, "Trouble? Always. Expect it, and you'll usually find it, but at least you'll be ready for it. Let's see. You and the girl, you'll ride with me. Morris and the Vulcan doc, you go in the next car." The armed men begin to climb into the black hardtop cars.

Somewhere through the haze of confusion, Kylah feels Mr. Graham's hand covering hers. It dwarfs her fingers and warms them, but what sends a ripple of shock through her is that more than physical warmth, he radiates--

protection... concern... regret... nostalgia... love

--and she inhales as sharply as if someone just jabbed her with a fork. She sensed something. She sensed him.

Whatever he was feeling, it must have been so strong it actually penetrated through whatever veil has been shrouding her empathic abilities ever since the Klingon attack. Since the Zweller incident, whatever happened.

Reflexively she tightens her fingers around his, wanting to continue this link, wanting more, like someone starving who has finally had a taste of nourishment. Though the surge of emotions seems to have ebbed, the warmth is still there.

It allows her to remember she is a Starfleet officer on duty. Not alone and helpless in the dark. So when Kalo speaks, Kylah is able to hear him and process the order. At once her internal alarm goes off again--it does not seem safe to be separated--and she looks back at Lt. Morris. How does he look? Is he afraid?

"I am a woman, not a girl," she hears herself saying from far away. "And I do not see why we must go in separate vehicles. They each seem large enough to contain five of us, plus the person who runs the machine." Kylah aims a challenging look--as much as she can manage--at Kalo. "Three in front, three in back. You are not afraid to be outnumbered, are you? A strong man such as you?"

Graham has to give Kylah credit: she's probably doing a damn good job of pushing the buttons of a guy like Kalo in a mob-based culture.

Also, in the process, he thinks, creating a non-zero chance I'll have to duke it out with him man to man over her honor, or something like that...

But her bold response draws him back to the past again. It's hard not to turn to look at her...but that would break the spell.

I am a woman, not a girl...


So much like Lizzy...but after, when Jane was gone, when she...rebelled... As she should have against a father doing a shitty job...

Graham is reasonably sure Kalo is smooth enough operator to shrug off the provocations.

He's more sure that if he hurts Kylah, physically or emotionally, he's going to wish he'd never been born.

"Thanks for the suggestion, honey, but we'll do it my way," Kalo says dismissively. The mooks gesture with their Tommy guns.

Collins reflexively looks down at her outfit and smiles, and immediately brings her head back up.

"Talking about checking in with HQ," Rangin holds up the communicator and waves it slightly in the air. "It's been a little while and I'd hate for them to get nervous with us out of contact. Besides they might be able to help if we need it."

If Krako agrees, Rangin thumbs a quick note to T'var as she is leading the other party asking for a report on how they are progressing at the safe house. He remembers back to OCIII and makes it a silent caĺl ready to be picked up as and when she is ready. Then he calls Lt. Thalen, to fill him in on the details...and let him know where they are.

Graham is conscious of--actually, appreciates Kylah's efforts, enabling him to be good cop while she pushes on the goons. At the same time, he's feeling reasonably comfortable that a meeting is legitimately in the offing.

"It's all right, Mister--uh, Miss Kylah," he says, glancing at her. "I think we can trust Kalo's offer at the moment--assuming he and his crew remembers their manners," he adds with a shaper edge, addressed at Kalo.

Kylah responds to Mr. Graham with a tight-lipped nod before forcing out a quiet "yes, sir." She again tries to discern what Lt. Morris's reaction to this is, looking back over to him and T'Var as the colleagues are separated into pairs.

Once she examines Lt. Morris's expression--if she can see it--she reluctantly lets go of Mr. Graham's arm and moves to enter the car. It suddenly occurs to her that she might have to sit beside either Kalo or one of his goons, a thought that makes her even less comfortable with this situation. Aside from the unpleasantness of being in such close proximity with these men, she wants to send a quick message to the Yorktown... something she is unlikely to accomplish in secret if she is flanked by the strangers.

"Sure, go ahead," Krako says to Rangin, seemingly full of good cheer. Garcia takes back his phaser-1 and communicator.

Rangin has no immediate response from T'Var, but Thalen on the Yorktown at once acknowledges his brief report.

"You need an awful lot of reassuring, don't you?" Kalo asks Graham with a sardonic smile. "Now get in the car, please."

Kylah can't see Morris's expression before he and T'Var are led to another car. The young Communications officer and Graham get in a car together and find themselves shoulder to shoulder in the second seat. The driver and Kalo are in the front seat, and another two mooks are seated directly behind Kylah and Graham, Tommy guns still in hand and at the ready. The cars' engines come to a life with a roar, and the long black vehicles pull away from the curb, tires squealing, one after another, merging into traffic.

Collins also takes her gear and places it back in her bag.

Kylah keeps her arms at her sides, breathing evently to keep herself calm. While the others settle in, she gradually slips her left hand into her dress's drop-waisted sash where she hid her communicator earlier, almost presciently.

With the seatback behind her, and the other one in front, she hopes her fingers' painstakingly slow and subtle movement will be blocked and thus unnoticed. If anyone looks downwards in the direction of her hips...which seems unlikely, but with men one never knows...she will simply pretend to adjust her dress. It should not raise suspicion; after all, her purse, bulked up with the phaser and tricorder, is on her lap, and she will make no move to open it.

To maintain character--she has been quite vocal and any sudden lapse into silence might alert them to surreptitious activity--Kylah jerks her chin up in impatience, shrugging her hair behind her shoulders and not incidentally revealing her dress's attributes to their best advantage. "Very well, Mr. Kalo, you have given us little choice but to accept this ruse of an invitation. Where are you taking us? Where does your President keep his... 'guests'?"

Kalo feigns surprise, although Kylah sees that he notices her curves. "Whaddya mean, 'ruse'? That ain't nice. I invited - you accepted. We're going to the Syndicate HQ. And I don't know nothin' about 'keep'ing you. He just wants to talk, is all."

Kylah offers Kalo a slightly chastising smile, though there is some warmth behind it.

"Forgive me, Mr. Kalo. You must understand, I am much nicer to those whose invitations are not issued at the point of a gun." She crosses her right leg over her left and adjusts the skirt, a casual action to help shield the activity of her left hand. Beneath the sash, her fingers are now able to feel the familiar cool metal of her communicator.

"I did not feel I could refuse. Mr. Graham wished to attend, and he is my boss and I do what he tells me, just as--I presume--you do the same for the President." Kylah's smile tilts, again teasing, trying to determine whether this annoys Kalo or is considered a compliment. How does he really feel about the head of the Syndicate?

"...But I should not monopolize the conversation. I am sure my colleague here has many questions about the President and this organization...?" She prays silently that Mr. Graham will understand that she wants Kalo distracted, and wishes she could communicate with Graham telepathically to make this clear. As pressed up against her as he is, he is certainly physically close enough to have a conversation with... if her abilities were stronger, and if he were attuned enough to receive her thoughts.

Graham shifts a bit awkwardly, on the one hand to make his shoulders fit without bashing into the door and on the other in response to Kylah's baring some...things.

But she's trying to get Kalo to talk, he notes, which is what we want.

"We'll, speakin' of guns, ruses, and reassurance, you can't blame us for assuming it's not all one big happy family down here--what's the story between President Okmyx and...what's the other guy's name? Drako? Kraku?" Graham asks.

Kalo scoffs a little. "You must mean Krako. He's the VP, but he wants to be boss himself someday - and this afternoon, or tomorrow even, probably wouldn't be soon enough for him. When Kirk set up the Syndicate, Krako agreed to take the number-two spot but he's never been especially happy with it. He's stayed in the government but hasn't been all that helpful, you know?"

Rangin gived his update to Lt. Thalen and then puts the communicator away. He doesn't mention T'Var and the other team but hopes that she will get back in contact shortly.

He looks across at Collins and Garcia before he turns back to Krako and Bullo. "Ok, ready," he states.

Bullo has by now changed into Twenties garb and returned. He gestures towards the door. "This way, please," he says.

"Good luck!" says Krako cheerily as you go. He turns to talk to two other Starfleet-garbed advisors.

Bullo leads the three Yorktown crew outside. Two black cars and four mooks, all likewise dressed in Twenties suits and ties, await you there.

Collins sees the two cars and jumps to a conclusion. "We're not splitting up." she says assertively.

Bullo says, "No. No reason to."

Rangin can't help but smile at Collins' protestation, but he can't help but agree with her, after all he wouldn't want to be caught alone with three of the other mooks.

"On the other hand, Bullo...you don't mind if I call you Bullo do you...you do get to drive. I don't think it would be that safe for us to do so." Rangin chimes in an upbeat fashion. He checks to see what kind of reaction he gets, good humoured or not happy and only playing along due to orders.

"So whaddya think the Federation team--uh, eddies--have to do with Krako's ambitions? I mean obviously you know Morris--uh, "Mo Mo." Graham asks.

Bullo says, "Sure, call me whatever. And I'm not drivin' - Hebyx here is." Hebyx, a big, red-haired guy, takes the wheel with just a nod to you. Bullo sits beside him in the front passenger seat. Rangin, Collins and Garcia can all just fit in the back seat. The other mooks pile into the other car. Both vehicles pull smoothly out into traffic.

Kalo shrugs in response to Graham's question. "Dunno. But whatever Krako's up to, I can guar-an-tee you it won't be in the President's best interests, you know? And that's what's most important to me, natch."

The three sedans soon pull up in front of a very impressive granite-and-glass skyscraper with SYNDICATE HEADQUARTERS engraved in gold over its large, elaborately-carved steel doors. The other gunmen climb out and establish a perimeter, Tommy guns up and ready. Other guards come out from the lobby to meet them.

"OK, here we are," Kalo says briskly. "Everybody out."

It's quite a thrill to be riding in one of these strange contraptions, seemingly unsafe by modern Federation standard, although the mooks seem ambivalent to it, no doubt being used to the experience.

"There's no word back from T'Var at all," Rangin says quietly to Collins sat next to him, "I'm hoping they haven't run into any serious problems," before he leans forward and calls out to Bullo over the sound of the engine and the wind whistling past. "So, where we're heading then?"

Collins whispers back, "Should I contact her again?"

Bullo says, "Across town. While I was changing, a fresh tip came in from one of our, uh, friends. Sounds like it could be about your fellow Feddies."

To Collins, Rangin replies quietly, "Hold off for the moment. But if we don't hear in half an hour, we will try again. If that doesn't work, we can escalate then...assuming we are still in a position to do so."

To Bullo, "Ah, a friendly ear on the ground. Well here's hoping it's news one way or another."

Without time to attempt contact, Kylah keeps the communicator tucked in her sash and waits for either Graham to slide out, or for someone to open the door on her side of the vehicle for her. Whichever happens first, she will get out.

Once on the pavement, she examines the large-scale building. The planet until now has seemed rather grubby to her; it reminds her of her home, and she feels surprisingly comfortable despite the weaponry surrounding her.

"The building is grander than I would have thought," she says to Mr. Graham, having decided that attempting to engage Kalo in conversation is a useless effort. She then swivels to see how Dr. T'Var and Lt. Morris have fared, particularly interested in judging whether the latter is afraid or uncomfortable or... really, any reaction at all. In a lower voice, she adds, "Do you think it important to talk with the others in private, sir?"

Bullo grunts. "You said it, mac." The cars speed along.

One of the mooks opens the door for Kylah and even offers his hand as she gets out. A short distance away along the same curb, Dr. T'Var and Lt. Morris are getting out of another car; both have calm expressions. They, too, are surrounded by armed men.

Rangin sits back in his seat and lets them get on with driving. "What do you reckon?" he asks the others.

Graham surveys the scene and, while continuing to look about with a neutral to appreciative expression speaks in a low voice to Kylah.

"Stay alert but cool. Don't know Morris but I trust the Doc--uh, T'Var's instincts." He frowns just for a moment. "If we can get you some time out of sight, set your communicator for an immediate beam out signal. Grab Morris and go if things go bad."

Murmuring, Garcia asks Rangin, "What do you mean, sir?"

Morris and T'Var come over to Graham and Kylah. Some nearby mooks watch them, and others watch passing traffic on the busy street. "Are you both all right?" Morris asks.

"I'm not sure" Collins says quietly "but something tells me Krako and his staff aren't being completely forthcoming. Call it a gut feeling."

Garcia looks at her, frowns, shrugs. "Could be. I'm not sure about anything on this planet."

Graham briefly and instinctively glances at Kylah, reacting to his question as about broader concerns than their immediate surroundings.

"We were going to ask you the same thing. You know the players," Graham says in a low voice, leaning closer. "Any concerns about following through with the meeting?"
He glances at T'Var and then back to Morris, inviting her opinion.

Kylah nods at Graham's order to contact the Yorktown and arrange for a beam-out. If they are not walking into a trap--or at least, not a trap that will be immediately sprung--she should be able to arrange for a moment alone.

She is a little surprised by Lt. Morris's question. "The trip was uneventful," she replies under her breath, eyeing the gangsters surrounding them and trying to avoid being heard. "I hope we get a chance to speak further, Lt. Morris. I would like to know more about your relationship with Mr. Kalo. He seems... unpleasant toward you. Can we expect the same reception from the president?"

Morris says slowly to Graham, "No... I'm just as uneasy as before, but I have no better plan."

T'Var says, "Likewise. And they would not allow me to use my communicator in the car. I believe a text came in for me."

To Kylah Morris quietly replies, "Kalo doesn't trust the Federation. He's fiercely loyal to Okmyx and... resents our presence here. Okmyx is more easy-going, at least on the surface."

"OK, OK," says Kalo himself, coming over. "C'mon, let's all go inside. I don't wanna keep the President waitin'."

"I'd be amazed if they aren't holding something back, but as to what it is I have no idea." Rangin says quietly as he sits back and relaxes. "So, for the moment let's play good little Feddies and see what we can do to find the missing group. I know I'll be keeping my eyes and ears open to see what's happening."

"Actually, Garcia, can you use your tricorder to listen in on any conversation in that other car? They may be saying something of interest without us around."

Kylah nods at Kalo's request. As they walk she will stay near him, just in case there is any chance of gaining his trust, or at least his non-hostility, by being amiable.

She purposely hangs on tightly to her purse, as if everything she deems important is within. Their belongings might be confiscated, for all she knows. And while being without her phaser and tricorder would be a wrench, the communicator is by far the most important device in her possession.

Graham grunts quietly and scowls. "All right we go in - we can deal with the text when, hopefully, Okmyx takes down the tension level."

"Of course, he's the President after all," Graham replies more loudly to Kalo.

Garcia murmurs, "I'm not quite sure how to use my tricorder for that, sir... even if the Iotians were to let me."

Bullo glances over his shoulder and says, "Almost there." The car turns, and then turns again, going down a trash-strewn alley.

"Right you are, pally," Kalo says to Graham with an easy smile. He seems pleased - even relieved - to be here, and leads the way into the big building, the mooks fanning out and holding off pedestrians as you enter. You pass through the doors and enter a large, polished granite-and-brass lobby. A giant portrait of Okmyx looks down over a high, wide staircase. Just off to your left, a tall young man in a sharp suit is holding an older, shabby-looking man by the shirtfront. The young man seems angry; he shakes the shabby man. He is talking but you can't hear what he's saying at this distance.

"Good point and I wouldn't worry about it. Looks like we're in business," replies Rangin.

"Ok set phasers set to stun, let's let them take the lead and see what we get drawn into. Don't do anything obviously Federation-wise unless you absolutely have to."

Rangin sits up slightly and discreetly checks the phaser is set to the correct setting. He can feel a tense knot in his stomach as he waits for the car to come to a halt, as he wonders what they will find and whether Krako is on the level it is just a trap.

"I don't like the looks of this alleyway," Collins feels very uneasy as she talks very quietly to her crewmates. "Sure they gave us our gear back, but I've got a bad feeling about this."

After two more turns, the black cars come to a gentle halt, and Bullo, Hebyx and the others pile out, Tommy guns and pistols at the ready. The alley is, if anything, more decrepit than the first one you saw, and it smells. Another man in a suit appears at the far end of the alley, whistles piercingly and gestures. Bullo waves, says "That's Zabo - he knows the score," and heads in that direction.

http://memory-alpha.wikia.com/wiki/Zabo