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

Graham spares a flick of the eyes toward T'Var and Onn, scowls, and stands back up. Ship has gotten as good a briefing as they can get, he thinks.

"Mr. President, I'm sure we all appreciate your warm fuzzies for the the Federation, but unless you're planning to kidnap us or gun us down I think being held under gunpoint has gone on long enough. So can we cut the gangland crap, now?" he asks, not at all confrontationally.

Now we'll see if his men really don't have itchy trigger fingers.... Every piece on me is one not on anybody else, or entry points for the reinforcements...

"And tell your boy to pick on someone his own size!" he shouts, turning and pointing sharply at where Cledd for whatever reason has a hold on Kylah.

Onn observes that none of the President's mooks appear to be focusing their attention outwards. All of them are facing into the room, as was the man that Onn passed on her way in.

T'Var slowly opens her bag and removes a small handheld mediscanner. She activates it and waves it over Onn's head and upper body, glancing from it to Onn as she does so. The nearest mook watches her carefully but doesn't interfere.

Upon further thought - difficult as it is with the welter of Cledd's emotions and memories pressing in upon her - Kylah recalls that Cledd was disarmed by his father's men, as has been everyone else.

Cledd looks at Kylah and his jaw sets. "You keep talking, sister, and bad things just might happen. I don't know what you're talking about." Another lie, she's sure of it.

The President tells Graham, "Relax, pal. I want to get to the bottom of this just as much as you do. And as long as my boys are the only ones here with heaters, everything's going to be just fine." He glances at his son and frowns. "But take it easy with the dame, OK, son? She's a Feddie, too."

Graham raises his hands just slightly, about shoulder level, and starts sliding--very slowly--around the table, in the direction of T'Var and Onn, going slow enough to preserve the option to flip it depending on the president's response.

"That's very civilized of you, Mr. President. Only thing is, as long as I feel like my team is at risk of being ventilated or manhandled, I ain't going to feel like we're doing much collaborative problem solving, so to speak. And, fair enough, I'm no Captain Kirk but these people are my responsibility. So what I propose is that I collect my doctor and my little lady, and you can sit Mr. Krako and his men down on the floor with their hands on their heads, and we can have a nice discussion without any guns pointed at us."

Graham keeps his voice even, amiable, while modulating his breathing carefully, expecting one of three outcomes: success, being shot out of hand, or giving backup a "go now" order and flipping the table. Which doesn't preclude number 1.

Keep eyes on you, Booker, if the shit hits the fan, everybody's better off it you do...

Remembering that Cledd was disarmed calms Kylah's racing heartbeat somewhat. He and Krako are both possible threats--they each must know she is capable of revealing what really happened, even if it seems like mere speculation to those who have not felt their emotions as she has. But what can they do to her without their guns? They would have to make her disappear, and fortunately the one thing Krako seems not to have access to is a transporter.

Then again, the rigid grip of Cledd's iron-like fingers reminds her that he could easily rip her arm from its socket. Krako is only steps away as well. If she could just get free...

Mr. Graham's movement catches her eye, and she hears his proposal to Okmyx. "He is right, Mr. President," she says in a rush. "We can talk more rationally if we are not under threat of your weapons." Or your brutish son, she thinks with a frustrated attempt to wrest herself away.

Nia says an inward prayer of gratitude for Booker's running narrative. So apparently Kylah is in Cledd's grasp. Because of course she is. Managing not to roll her eyes, she calculates the odds on whether it would cause more trouble if Kylah were to remain a damsel in distress or for her to get beamed up out from under Sonny Boy's hands.

Surely Rangin is within close enough range to identify where the only non-Iotian in that clump of people is. He's listening in, he must know Kylah's in jeopardy. Which... may mean nothing to him, if that last performance in Sickbay meant anything. No, he's a professional... isn't he? Damn it, she just doesn't know him well enough yet.

In any event, maybe beaming her up would just cause shock and chaos. Adding more uncertainty to the situation is not desirable.

As Booker talks, Nia frowns. She doesn't know what he's planning. But she does know he has something in mind, and hopefully that includes the knowledge that she's leaving it up to him to call in for backup. She also hopes that whatever he's scheming doesn't trigger a bad reaction by Okmyx, who at least now seems relatively reasonable.

But if she ends up watching Booker get shot again--without even a phaser in her hand to defend him--she will never forgive herself.

"Watch it, Doc," she mutters irritably, mostly for the goon's benefit. "You're crushing my bag. Lemme move it while you wave that whatever-it-is over me."

Now Kylah is saying something, but it doesn't sound informative so Nia focuses on T'Var. "Block my hands," she mouths. Just for twenty seconds. And if the good doctor seems to be protecting her from sight, Nia will swiftly pull the phaser out from her purse and slip it underneath. Out of sight but ready to blast whichever target seems appropriate.

"Not yet, buddy," the President says to Graham. "All in good time. I still want a straight answer outta my son and this joker," he says, pointing to Krako, who rolls his eyes.

The elder Okmyx ignores Kylah. Cledd loosens his grip slightly, seeming to obey his father, but she is still unable to get away. His mind is racing with dark thoughts, weighing his options and thinking through the situation, and it makes her almost ill as she is telepathically swept along.

T'Var nods fractionally at Onn and then fusses with her bag and the mediscanner, seeming to be about to drop one or the other, which gives Onn the cover she needs.

Kylah lowers her head, fighting Cledd's churning emotions as well as her own. Two weeks of feeling nothing, and now she must suddenly face this bombardment. It is not fair! And worse, she fears that if she tries to accuse Krako, she has nothing, nothing, to prove her words. He has outsmarted her--them--at every turn.

Her free hand lifts feebly to cover her perspiring temple. Why is she taking this so personally? Kylah closes her eyes to sort out what is happening. I cannot tell if the resentment is mine or Cledd's.

"You will not get an answer from Krako, Mr. President," she says, almost a moan. "He has no reason to tell you the truth, why should he? He has used your son and there is nothing to prove otherwise. But if he thinks he will gain from this..." She drops her hand to glare at the man in the ersatz Federation uniform. "He is wrong. Dead wrong. He did not take everything into account when calculating his scheme, and did not know he would be so transparent..."

Wincing, she falls silent. Cledd's furious thoughts are pushing through her sense of self-preservation. Anything more and she will have to reveal how she knows what she does. Unless she can think of some connection to the kidnapping plot. Her own words nag at her. There is proof, there must be! And something tickles at the edge of her mind. Something that has not made sense through any of this. But Kylah feels too disjointed and cannot pinpoint it yet.

The President's eyes narrow. "Used my son?" He whirls on Krako. "What does she mean? He lied about me ordering it, and he still hasn't explained why... but did you put him up to it?"

Krako waves disgustedly. "Of course not. Get real, Bela. What could I offer Cledd that you couldn't offer him yourself? Family is family, after all. He's your boy."

Kylah can't help but sense Cledd's reaction to that, to those lies, and has a sudden and disorienting view into the younger man's memories. That night, that fateful night... a secret meeting... just the two of them, down by the docks, late one night... Cledd chafing under his father's orders, ambitious, so ambitious, always wanting more... but frustrated at how little power the President was willing to cede him... given only a small territory, a handful of men, and a nightclub... and Krako by then ready to displace Bela Okmyx, to be seen by the Feddies as the hero for helping them find their poor kidnapped officers... rewarded by the offworlders for his help in exposing that turncoat elder Okmyx, and generously rewarding Cledd in turn for... for....

The pieces click into place, and Kylah thinks she can see it all.

Rangin checks with the others next to him that they can hear and understand the coded messages being played out in the ballroom.

Despite the need to be ready, Rangin flips outs the tricorder and identifies those standing around and marks them by Graham's mutters giving a better idea of where everyone is located.

Then, at this close proximity, he can start to work out where the group is in relation to Onn and T'Var, the two non-humanoid members out there and also Kylah, who as half human should also be any easy spot. Then its a matter of trawling through the rest for initially Graham, who should be obvious from his muttered location and Morris, about whom they have less data.

Then again, everyone with a phaser is currently one of Okymx's men, so its adds a little extra marker to each signal. With a good element of surprise and a well drilled Security team, as least as he remembers them from the USS Lexington, they should be able to take them all down in a matter of moments. Of course, that assumes all things being equal.

Quickly, Rangin scans back over the room to see what might be out of the ordinary.

Kylah's mouth tightens. It is as she has suspected since first sensing Krako's lies, but the deeper understanding and confirmation of her guesses do not make it easier for her to decide what to do. The temptation to call Krako out as a filthy liar is powerful... and yet, if she does, she still has the problem of there being no proof whatsoever. Cledd might speak himself, and that might be evidence enough for his father, but not Starfleet.

Worse, it may not even get to Starfleet. If the President believes Cledd, what will stop him from using his gun on Krako? The vice president may be guilty of kidnapping--or at least, conspiring to kidnap--but he does not deserve death.

Cledd's anger enflames her own frustration. She tries wildly to jerk her arm free. "Do not say any more, Krako, you will regret it!" she seethes. "Cledd, let me go!" She is almost desperate to block Krako again; it may be the only thing that saves him at this point.

Infuriated, she whips her head around to the President. "Sir, this is best addressed on board our ship, in neutral space. You know we can force you up there, without your permission. We can do it to Krako and your son--and we should," she yells, intending her words for Lt. Onn--although Dr. T'Var is in the way and Kylah cannot see the other woman--and Mr. Graham. "Why are we allowing this to continue? He will kill him!"

The phaser safely tucked away, Nia looks up just as she hears the back-and-forth between Okmyx, Krako and--goddamnit--Kylah. The latter sounds on a knife's edge. Fucking sub-cadet-level discipline, what the hell or who the hell is she doing on a Constitution-class ship?

Since she asked T'Var to cover her, Nia can hardly complain now that the doctor is blocking her view. But she needs to see what's going on ASAP.

"Wow-that-feels-great-how'd-you-do-that-so-fast-thanks-Doc," she says in a rush, almost shoving her way past T'Var's body. Nothing seems to have changed except for Kylah now being visible thanks to her jerky efforts to get loose from Cledd Okmyx's grasp.

A twinge of sympathy lessens her anger at the Ensign. Maybe Cledd is hurting her. The guy is practically three times her size. "Hey kid, don't mind me butting in, but maybe you should calm down," she says sharply. "No need to get all upset, y'know? No one's gonna kill anybody. Am I right or what?" Nia smiles... somehow... and looks from Okmyx to Cledd. Can't see Krako, unfortunately.

She turns to Graham and smiles flirtatiously, though her eyes are like lasers. "You seem to know what's going on, mister. Can you calm that girl down or what?"

Rangin is able to develop a pretty good map of who's where in the ballroom, judging by the phasers and Tommy guns now being held by President Okmyx's mooks, and the non-Human lifesigns of Kylah, T'Var and Onn. He cannot be sure of Graham's and Morris's exact locations, however.

"Calm down, sweetheart," the President says to the young Communications officer, his eyes narrowing. "I'm thinking." He nods when Onn speaks. "Better pay attention to her - she's got the right idea."

Neither Okmyx, father or son, makes eye contact with Onn.

"You're thinking, huh, Bela?" Krako guffaws. "Thinking about how to wiggle out of this one, most likely. Now that the Feddies are gonna see you as the bad guy, and know that I'm their real friend. I wouldn't waste your time, bub." He buffs his fingernails on his lapel and then looks down at them.

"Shut up, Jojo," Okmyx says, irritated. "When I want your opinion, I'll beat it out of you."

Graham laughs. "Beat it out of him? You've given me a good idea, Mr. President. Yorktown, power up the Agonizer."

He nods slightly toward the communicator on the table. "Yeah, this thing is transmitting. And in about two minutes, once the...Agonizer Field...reaches full power, everybody here who hasn't had the cellular ah immunotherapy treatment is going to become real forthcoming about the truth--that is, assuming they don't like bleeding from the eyes and losing bowel control while doubled over on the floor in enough pain to make you wish you'd never been born."

He glances from the President to Krako and some of the goons. "New innovation since Kirk's time. No permanent harm. Of course that means we can keep it running as long as it takes until folks decide to come clean."

He shrugs and looks at Cledd. "Probably going to make a real mess of your club, though."

The condescending words from Kylah's senior officer are bad enough, as is the President's dismissal of her entirely. But Krako's smug certainty is enough to temporarily destroy her wish to protect him. She does not want him hurt, but she cannot allow him to believe Starfleet will reward him for having helped 'find' the hostages.

She continues to think while listening to Mr. Graham's ploy--a clever bluff, to be sure, and it might work on any of these men, if they know so little about Starfleet's ethics. But what happens when there is no follow-through?

In which case, how can she stop Krako? He has no reason to confess. And none of the others know Krako was involved. He cannot have executed this plan perfectly! He must have left some proof of his actions, maybe one of the CAG overheard something? Or one of Cledd's associates, either the guards of the hostages or of the mainframe...

Kylah's disparate thoughts coalesce and sharpen. She tosses her head to clear the hair from in front of her face, then glares at Krako. "The mainframe," she says quietly. "That is it. Cledd would not have thought to steal the computer. He probably does not even understand their potential. But you do. You, Mr. Krako, and your interest in Federation technology."

She moistens her lips, thinking. "Surely, once you had control over it... how could you resist examining it? Just once? Did you, Mr. Vice President? Did you marvel at its design, touch its buttons, open a panel, peek inside? Because if you did, I wager you left something behind." Her voice rises so she can be certain to catch Mr. Graham's attention. "Did we retrieve the mainframe, sir? If so, we should look for fingerprints. And especially DNA. I hope President Okmyx will allow us to get samples of each from him, his son and Mr. Krako.

"You do not know about DNA yet, do you?" she asks, returning to Krako. "It is something miniscule, invisible to your eyes, but unique to every being. Even a hair follicle, a skin particle scraped from your fingers as they brushed against something--a screw, perhaps, holding the computer control panel together... Even something that tiny will contain what might as well be a blown-up image of your face." Kylah remains calm though her face is flushed with anger. "If that mainframe has your DNA anywhere... we have you."

Nia marvels at both her colleagues--Booker for his sheer ability to invent such b.s. in a split second like that. It's a brilliant concept, and frankly a little scary that he came up with it so fast, but bless him, he is not a man made for guile; he's a straight-shooter, and though he tells a good tale, there's something too blunt and honest to completely sell it without hesitating.

And then there's Kylah, who Nia is certain has an astonishing ability to never understand when it's time shut the hell up.

For once the latter "talent" might come in handy. The first time Kylah mentions DNA, Nia realizes where she's heading. It makes sense, and just in case the team listening in didn't catch her words, she lowers her head, pretends to cover her mouth against a yawn, and then whispers into her chest, "Did you hear that, Commander? DNA check on mainframe. If these guys are in our database from the Enterprise, might be a match."

She looks up just in time to hear the end of Kylah's muttered speech. The petite young woman is surrounded by men who are either armed or strong enough to tear her head off, but she is managing to keep their attention. Nia reluctantly admires the Elasian's nerve. It may be frustratingly unpredictable but apparently it does exist.

Krako looks worried after Graham speaks. "Uh... I think you better close the lid on that communicator, there, Bela. If they're listening in 'way up there on their ship, and use that... agonizer thing down here, it could get ugly." He looks even a little more worried when Kylah speaks. "I don't know what you're talking about, honey. Sure, I admire the Federation, I like its technology, but I don't know anything about that mainframe other than my boys finding it in the basement. That was all Cledd's doing, for his pop, like I said." Kylah knows that he is lying, and notices he is sweating a little more.

President Okmyx, also reacting to Graham, looks skeptical. "I think he's bluffing." His eyes narrow. "But... close the lid, just the same, would you, buddy?" he says to one of his mooks. The mook walks over to Graham's, T'Var's and Morris's table, looks at the communicator for a moment, then flips its antenna lid shut with the muzzle of his Tommy gun. "And maybe we oughta find another place to chat...."

Rangin and the others outside of the ballroom hear the transmission from Graham's communicator cut off.

Thalen, from the Yorktown, says quietly to Onn, "Acknowledged. We're checking now. Krako was beamed up by the Enterprise, so his DNA template should be on file. We'll compare it to any readings of genetic material left on the mainframe. Stand by."

Any anger from Cledd seems to bleed into Kylah, who feels like an emotional sponge soaking up whatever spills nearby. Both his outrage and her own merge into something white-hot and fearsome. Despite her size, she has what may be Cledd's false sense of invulnerability.

The more rational part of her also suspects if they move to another room, she might be taken along as well. She does not want to be alone with these men. Thinking quickly, she spits out: "If the communicator channel was indeed open, there is no point in taking the conversation anywhere. Our crew will be here shortly.

"And you, Mr. Krako, do not call me honey." Kylah's chin lifts and her eyes almost burn with intensity. "I am an Ensign of the starship Yorktown. And you are a liar whose guilt will be proven by the technology you 'like' and the Federation you claim to admire. You had best pray that we are the ones to deal with you, because if nothing else, Starfleet seeks proper justice."

She lowers her voice until it can only be heard by Cledd and, as she leans as far forward as Cledd's grip will alow her, Krako. "With what I know about you, you should be grateful that I have not yet revealed how you preyed on his son's bitterness. You are not only an insult to the sham uniform you wear, Jojo Krako, but you are a gutless parasite as well."

Krako clenches his fists and angrily says, "Watch it, honey. I don't have to put up with your lies and your insults, Feddy or not."

Cledd loosens his grip on Kylah slightly and chuckles. His mood has lifted slightly, she senses, but only a little. He is enjoying seeing Krako held at bay by his father's mooks' guns as Kylah taunts him, even as his mind continues to race, trying to figure out how to turn the situation to his advantage.

As Cledd calms a little, Kylah feels the boiling anger turn down to a simmer. She shakes her head at Krako's inability to see that he cannot win. "You seem not to comprehend your situation," she says, trying to take a step nearer to see just how loose Cledd's grip really is--like a dog testing the length of its leash. "I know what you did, I can sense--see it," she amends hurriedly, "written all over your face. The DNA test will confirm your presence near the mainframe.

"Even if I were not aware of your collusion with Cledd Okmyx, and even without DNA, you are the natural originator of this plan. None of our people were killed. There was no attempt at ransom. Who else would have kidnapped the hostages without harming them, unless it was always intended to return them in some sort of gesture of triumph?"

She leans near him. "You must face reality. Your dreams of the Federation rewarding you for this scheme you concocted are over. All you have left now is punishment. It is up to you whether it is at the hands of Starfleet which--with all due respect to my team leader--prefers reason to torture. Especially given that, as I said, our people were not harmed, and you did not intend them to be. That is a mitigating factor." The last is far from certain, but she decides it is better to make this option as tempting as possible.

Then she lets her voice harden again. "Or would you rather leave President Okmyx to dispense his version of justice for using his son as a pawn? To punish you using that horrible weapon of his... or worse?"

Krako gets even redder in the face. "Shut up!" he shouts. "Just shut up, you!" The Starfleet officers notice that his voice shakes just a little. The President looks at him with renewed interest.

Yeg Okmyx, whom Kylah had almost forgotten about, looks from Krako to his cousin. He takes a step towards Cledd and says tentatively, maybe even worriedly, "Cledd, do you think...."

Cledd says curtly, "Always. Leave it to me, cuz, and keep it zipped."

Kylah's eyes shift to Yeg as she notices a potential weakness in their wall of silence. "You could help us. You could prevent him--" She gives a dismissive toss of her head in Krako's direction. "--From getting away with this, while your cousin is brought up on charges all by himself. Although I am now certain there is material proof in the form of DNA evidence left on the mainframe, since he is such a poor bluffer." Kylah turns slightly to send Cledd a dry look. "I did not lie about my ability to play poker," she mutters before returning to Yeg. "But it will still be of great use if we have testimony as well. You could at least get yourself out of trouble, even if Cledd refuses to acknowledge that he has been... what would your people call it?" Kylah gives a tiny, cold smile. "Oh yes. I remember our information sheet on your idioms: 'Played for a sap.'"

Nia does not like the sound in Krako's tone, and she lifts the phaser slightly, though it is still shielded by her purse. She also does not like her angle, and though she is a damn good shot with a ship's phasers or phaser canons, she is slightly less confident of a shot with civilians (and hapless ensigns) in such close quarters. So if anyone is to defend Kylah from... well, her own stupidity... she would vastly prefer it be Booker Graham.

"You left your drink over there at your table, doc," she says softly, barely paying attention to herself. "You don't mind if I take a seat and finish it, do you? Don't worry, I'll just take a sip." She looks around to see if anyone is watching. Probably not, everyone seems to be focusing on the foursome--fivesome, including this new speaker. If the coast is clear, she will slowly make her way toward Booker.

The Agonizer... Rangin groans when he hears Graham inventing things like that. Typical of the man, and the chances of Rangin helping out with his bluff were low. Of course, given how loud he is and his proximity to the communicator, he should be able to narrow down Graham to just a couple of bodies in the hall.

Or would it cause more problems if he did lend a hand. Would be easy enough. Just have the communicator beep three times on a regular basis but the panic that ensued would be problematic.

When Graham's communicator is turnd off, Rangin switches to listening in to Lt. Onn's instead and waits to see what signal is given, although he begins to wonder if a visual on the room would be a good idea.

Yeg looks from Kylah to his cousin and says, "Cledd, I really think it's time we...."

Cledd snaps, "Shut up, would you? I know what I'm doing."

"And what are you doing, son?" the President asks, sounding skeptical. "This just doesn't add up."

T'Var nods to Onn, who gets within eight steps or so of Graham when Kalo says, "Hold it, honey. Not another step." He turns towards her, but doesn't quite point his Tommy gun at her.

Rangin can hear what's going on but of course cannot see anything.

Thalen says quietly over the open channel, "A full scan confirms that three examples of Jojo Krako's DNA are on the mainframe computer, consistent with finger or palm contact."

Graham shakes his head. "I think it adds up real nice, Mr. President, and while I'm still not happy about having weapons pointed at us, I apologize for suspecting you. Just thing about it: I say our ship is going to put the screws to everybody here, at the same time that our Mr. Kylah comes up with the smoking gun that will show Krako's behind the whole thing, and what does he say? He gets hot under the collar and says we should shut my communicator down."

He gestures slightly toward Krako. "Convenient, right? You can't hear the evidence and if I'm not bluffing everybody gets treated like a suspect."

Graham is kinda sorta inclined to believe Krako and Cledd are dirty--but at the moment he's trying to work the situation to a point where the Feddies...uh, us...can take control of the situation, regardless. He's kinda sorta sure Okmyx won't gun down Krako in cold blood...kinda sorta...

"Are you a gambling man, Mr. President? I'm willing to bet that if we turn my communicator back on in 30 seconds, we'll hear DNA results from the ship that show Krako's dirty. And that in the next 30 seconds, your boy Cledd is smart enough to ditch a loser and come clean."

Kylah watches Mr. Graham, and notices Lt. Onn's move toward him. She waits until the former finishes before she says, nonconfrontationally, "Mr. Graham is correct, Mr President. It will add up if you accept my version of events. Your son is not innocent, but he" -- again she does not name Krako -- "fed upon Cledd's ambition and probably proposed the kidnapping and eventual recovery of the CAG in order to earn Starfleet's loyalty. He probably promised Cledd a role in the new leadership once you were framed for the crime, but obviously he had no intention of following through. He is now throwing Cledd aside and framing you, all in hopes that Starfleet will dismantle your entire operation and install him. I--I mean, that is what I believe," she adds, realizing there is no way she should have this information.

She turns to Yeg. "If you can confirm this, Mr. Okmyx, you will be doing your cousin a favor. He seems to think he can ignore all this by remaining silent. But he does not seem to realize that no matter what, he will be blamed for his crime--and possibly you as well, if you are implicated. The man who manipulated him with false dreams of gaining power--power with which he feels his father did not trust him--will have won. At least..." Kylah looks with angry triumph at Krako. "...At least he thinks so. Evidence will prove him wrong."

"Acknowledged," Nia murmurs and turns to Graham. "I like a guy who knows exactly what he's talking about," she says with a smile and confirming nod. "I'd never bet against you."

She then turns to Kalo. "C'mon, mister. I just wanna sit down and get a little drink. The doc's magic whatsit made me a little too dry, if you know what I mean. Not to mention my feet are beginning to kill me. You aren't wearing heels like this." She lifts her right foot to show off the beautiful but impractical shoes Wardrobe provided for her--not to mention her own long, shapely leg.

"You seriously think I'm a threat to you guys, with all the weapons you got? In fact, why'n't you let all of us guests leave? We can scram and let you focus on whatever the heck's going on here. Seems to me your beef's with the Vice President and that mouthy girl over there. Plus the doc, and of course Mr. Medium, Dark and Handsome to my rear," she adds with a tilt of her head toward Booker, "who I hope likes the view. So why not let us go? Or geeze, at least let me sit down where I want to, so I can enjoy this floor show you got going."

Yeg Okmyx listens to Kylah, licks his lips and nervously glances between Cledd and the elder Okmyx.

Kalo looks from Onn to the President for orders. The Iotian leader rubs his chin and seems just about to say something.

But Kylah's last taunt pushes Krako over the edge, and his temper flares. He makes a quick twisting motion with his right forearm, and suddenly a silvery, double-edged knife is in his hand. He growls, "I warned you, sister...!" and lunges past one of the President's mooks, rushing towards Kylah and raising his knife.

"Look out!" shouts Morris, starting towards Krako.

Cledd grabs Kylah hard around the shoulders and starts to turn her away.

Time seems to slow down. Kylah has been facing the president and hears Krako's voice, but does not immediately think it worthwhile to look at him. ...Not until her peripheral vision catches the sudden movement and the flash of metal. Instinct and experience as a daughter of Elas send her free hand down to slip underneath the hem of her skirt, intending to grasp the hilt of her throwing knife.

Of course, there is nothing but a garter there. She has no weapon, neither Elasian nor Starfleet-issued, and the stark reality of just how vulnerable she is takes over from instinct. She gasps and tries to wrench herself from Cledd, but his arm wraps around her shoulder.

One flash of thought connects this instant among so many where she has been nothing but a useless body with no agency: with Jan in his bed, with Palver on his ship, on the cement pavement near the warehouse on Anubis, and in her own quarters in Zweller's arms--this last, a memory that bursts into life for the first time. And it is with this shock, this sinking, frozen sense of helplessness, that Kylah just stares at Krako's face as Cledd moves her on his own.

Having scanned the area for all its available data, Rangin contacts the USS Yorktown transporter room with the details just as he had done with the CAG. Although with everyone in there under watch by Okmyx's men there should be less chance of something happening than before. Although Kylah seems determined to continue to push for answers, a lot of it depends on Okmyx and what whims he is having today.

"Rangin to Chief Ngyuen. Here is an updates set of data on our people in the room in case of..."

His words stop as he hears the calls from the ballroom. He can see the dots moving on his tricorder, hear Morris's shout of warning and can only imagine what is happening.

"Chief. Emergency transport. Ensign Kylah." The words blurt out without thinking as Rangin does the only thing he can think of to pull Ensign Kylah to safety.

Nia is damn glad that she's looking at the president, rather than at Booker. Normally she'd much rather focus on the latter, but if she'd been indulging herself with pleasant activities she wouldn't have noticed Krako's odd motion with his arm while he muttered--something.

The knife is only a blur, but she sees it, and her brain registers it and turns it into the logical deduction: Krako. Knife. Attacking. And his target is obviously Kylah, who makes some weird gesture with her hand before Cledd takes hold of her shoulders. She's basically as threatening as a sacrificial lamb.

Nia's gaze sweeps around to Okmyx with his gun, and the goons who are just as armed and deadly. Kylah might be the immediate prey, but Krako--and all the guests nearby or anywhere in the path of those machine guns--are about to be just as imperiled.

All hell's about to be turned loose. And Nia's mind distills the situation into a single thought.

Shit.

She drops the purse to reveal her phaser. "Officer in danger," she hisses. "All teams get in here now!" into her communicator. Then, darting forward, she shouts to the room: "Everybody get down!"

Even as she speaks, she lifts her phaser and starts to aim it--but Morris has moved shockingly fast and she has to stare at his back. Fuck me, what is this idiot doing? The answer is obvious before she finishes the thought. He's heading to Krako, and will probably block her shot.

Assessing the scene, Nia makes a split-second decision. I'm not the one for this.

She's already in motion, and so it just takes a slight swerve to her left to find Graham. If necessary, she'll slam her body into anyone in her way as she locates Booker and reaches her phaser out to him. "You're the better shot. Take anyone down you have to!"

Time seems to slow to a crawl.

Krako, his face contorted by anger, charges closer to Kylah.

Cledd pushes her sharply away, putting himself between her and Krako. Morris is closing the distance, too.

From the Yorktown, Nguyen says worriedly to Rangin, "The signals are all intermixed. I'll try... stand by."

Three Crows says, "On our way," and Mahmoud echoes her.

Nia's flirtation is doing a good job killing time and also, kind of arousing but that little distraction ends in a milisecond.

What to do is obvious. It's as if the room is moving in slow motion.

Back up is certainly on its way but you see the weapon, the threat

Booker immediately sends the table, with the full strength of both hands under the edge, moving in a direction opposite of his shortest path toward Krako and Kylah (preferably in the direction of a nearby goon if that happens to be the case).

From the corner of his eye he registers Onn's movement.

I could kiss you intrudes at the back of his mind, but he's already moving by instinct toward her, just far enough to grab the phaser while angling to get the best shot and the most direct path to Krako.

It's just as far in the back of his mind: Nia could watch me get shot, right here.


But it changes nothing, he's working by muscle memory: you see the threat, you go for the threat, you count on your backup.

Stumbling after Cledd has released her, Kylah feels the full weight of the emotional chaos filling the room--fear, rage, confusion. Tears blur her vision and she winces at the pressure and pain of it all. She cries out no! and in sheer desperation grabs hold of Cledd--though her watery eyes can barely make out his distorted form--hoping to pull him out of jeopardy. A mouse trying to move a bull.

While playing 'hot potato' with the phaser, Nia glances at Booker for those frozen seconds, knowing he's plenty capable of handling himself but wishing like hell he was anywhere but here. Once the weapon's in his hand, he's already focused on whoever he's aiming at, not looking at her--which is good: that's what he should be doing.

Now that she's delegated one job away, she needs to act herself. Mentally she's already made her decision of what to do once the phaser is gone--find a weapon she can use well. Melee is more her style, and she darts her gaze around to hunt for a chair. As she does, she exhales another request: "Cheverez, be ready to stun if necessary."

With the flood of energy through her veins, Nia feels the cool, prickly sensation of her body's natural instinct turning skin to scales. Not that her scales will be of much use against these particular enemies. If she were in Kylah's position, her protection would keep her mostly safe from Krako. Knives, teeth, claws, thorns... all are a big part of why her race maintained its scales over millennia of evolution--along with her planet's oppressive heat.

Bullets from a meter or less away? She might as well be covered in lace. Still, her body reacts as is natural, and it might have some tactical advantage; an instant of a "what the hell?" reaction from the gangsters might buy her the time she needs.

Meanwhile, if or when Nia finds a chair, she'll grab it, target the goon nearest to her, and slam the chair at him--hopefully avoiding getting slammed by blast of bullets for her trouble.

Everything seems to happen almost at once.

The table Graham flung knocks down one of the President's mooks with a loud crash. One of the nightclub's guests screams shrilly.

The older Security man deftly catches Onn's phaser in midair just as Krako knocks aside Cledd, who was stepping towards him but is kept off-balance by Kylah grabbing at him. Morris comes even closer to Krako, hands outstretched. Cledd and Morris are both, for a moment, in Graham's line of fire, but then they fall away, pushed away by the heavyset Krako's bull-like momentum. Kylah loses her tenuous grip on Cledd.

Onn clocks the nearest mook with a chair, and he falls heavily to the floor. Someone else is shouting, and another woman screams.

Kalo brings up his Tommy gun, firing at Krako, missing him but tearing up the far wall. The sound is deafening, and the room fills with the smell of burnt gunpowder. All the civilians drop to the floor.

Krako reaches Kylah and slashes with his knife, cutting her deeply on her right shoulder and upper right arm.

Only then does Graham have his shot. He fires his phaser, stunning both Kylah and Krako. They fall heavily to the polished dance floor.

Through her ringing ears, covered in her race's distinctive scales, Onn hears Cheverez saying something indistinct over the comm channel.

Rangin's only thoughts at this time sre to get in there as quickly as possible with the security team to help restore order.

He can only hope Cheif Nguyen is successful in getting Kylah out of trouble in time given that Rangin had just provided the coordinates for her.

Kylah's heart thumps with success at having moved Cledd, but the emotion is quickly followed by alarm when he slips through her fingers again, and finally fright as Krako comes raging toward her, knife still aimed straight at her chest. She tries to evade by jerking to the left, and instinctively reaches toward the president in a kind of pleading gesture.

Even as she does, an empathetic fury explodes within her once Krako is upon her, and then--

A millisecond of shock as the knife slices through the thin strap of her dress, then her skin. Krako's blade digs in and down, sending pain hot as fire coursing along her arm, shoulder, neck and chest. The cry from her own lips seems so unfamiliar, it could be coming from someone else: maybe Krako, who is right on top of her as she grabs hold of him, intending to push him away but also needing something to keep her steady. But neither effort works. She starts to crumple, suddenly terribly, terribly cold despite the thick, warm liquid seeping through the long wound, to her dress and arm and chest.

She does not want Krako to be the last thing she sees. So she turns away to the rest of the ballroom, dizzy and terrified, and finds Mr. Graham. He is aiming his phaser at her and she nearly gets the world help out. But the flash of his weapon is faster. A blast of energy slams into her side; in this endless moment of clarity she can almost identify every cell the phaser beam paces on its long journey through her body.

Krako, inches away, topples over just as she does, and they reach the floor together. But Kylah does not know this because now Kylah sees nothing at all.

Rangin, Rawlings and Garcia come crashing through one door, out into the ballroom, and moments later, Three Crows and Mahmoud lead their Security squads in, also on the run, emerging from the lobby and a backstage door. They all have phaser-2s leveled at President Okmyx, his mooks and the other people in the room. Two of the mooks turn and raise their weapons towards the Starfleet redshirts, and are immediately stunned and dropped.

"Guns down, hands up!" Three Crows loudly orders, and the Iotians all speedily comply. They are herded away from Onn and her people, searched and scanned, and their weapons are collected.

T'Var swiftly goes to Kylah, takes out her medical tricorder and medikit, and begins treating the Communications officer's wounds. Soon her heavy bleeding is stanched.

Rangin sees Kylah and Krako, crumpled together on the floor. Nguyen says over the comm channel, "Mr. Rangin, I'm sorry, the lifesigns are all intermixed. I am unable to get a lock on Mr. Kylah."

Mahmoud looks around, kicks away Krako's knife, then sees Graham and strides over to him. "Are you OK, Book?"

Nia curses to herself as she dives low, aiming herself at the dropped weapon. She's never used a model like this, though the mechanics seem obvious enough. But she doesn't want to use it--this is a weapon to kill, not to stun, and her unfamiliarity with the gun and its action means she can't fathom taking a non-lethal shot, or even a shot aimed at the right person.

If she has to kill, she'll have to. But the main intent now is to get the weapon away from the goon or any of Krako's men--or just some random gangster.

Next move is to get somewhere safe, or at least not right out in the open now that she's revealed that she's no ditzy lush. When she spots the impromptu barricade not far away--the upended table, courtesy of Booker Graham--Nia exhales in relief and pledges to thank the hell out of Booker when they're alone.

While she uses a rather reptilian crawl to get behind the barrier, she finally has an opportunity to respond to Cheverez. "Say again?" she asks, hoping he can even hear her through the crazy amount of noise. And others are also audible via the open nature of their comm link. Damn it. "Private channel," she tells her device. "Onn to Cheverez, repeat?"

Her mind is hammering itself with strategies. Maybe I should just get him to stun the building. Fuck whatever kind of non-intervention idea Singh has. This isn't an exercise, we've got feet on the ground in trouble here-- Which is when she takes a worried glance to see how Booker's shot went.

And sees blood. A lot of it. With Kylah on the floor.

Shit. Shit shit shit! As pissed off with the ensign as she is, Nia is sickened that something happened to the girl on her watch. Her throat spasms into a tight knot of muscle. But she has to keep moving and she does. "Repeat!" she yells again into her communicator, then adds: "Open channel. Teams, move faster! Nguyen, beam Ensign--"

She stops mid-command. Because at last the entire team comes barging in. As she watches, everything seems to happen with extraordinary speed, including the stunning of two gangsters. An act that causes the rest of the supposedly hardcore gangsters to just... give up.

Nia grabs the edge of the table and scrambles to her feet. Her whole body is so tense and taut that it's shaking, and she doesn't seem able to let go of the gun. She stares at the Starfleet officers in mute gratitude--for a few seconds, the only kind she can offer. Okay. Okay. Get it together. "Good work," she manages after what feels like forever. "Onn to Yorktown. Situation is under control." After a deep breath, she forces her gaze back to the girl lying on the floor. "T'Var, how is she?"

Graham glances at Onn briefly, grateful for the role she played and that she's safe.

But his eyes immediately turn to Kylah.

That's a lot of blood...

"Tell you in a minute, Faisal," Graham answers. "Doc?" he asks, following up Onn's question.

in the intervening moment he turns back to Mahmoud. "Take Krako, Cleedd, and Yegg into Federation custody. Confine each in the brig in isolation until we can interrogate."

He turns back toward Kylah, then stops, and turns sharply and take a step toward Okmyx, his voice tight. "As a head of state and ostensible friend of the Federation, Mr. President, I am going to ask you--and Kalo--to voluntarily participate in our investigation without bringing charges in this matter against you. But if she dies all fucking bets are off, Okmyx."

Nia takes a few deep breaths, listening to Booker but watching T'Var patching Kylah up. At least the bleeding's mostly stopped, as far as Nia can tell. Meanwhile, as she relaxes her guard, she feels her own scales receding, though the usual ones remain around her temples.

She walks up to Mahmoud and Three Crows. "Thanks," she says quietly, then turns to Booker. He seems externally calm, but his voice sounds like a blade being honed by steel. Before he starts anything, she needs to apprise him of... certain changes in the cast.

"Excuse me, Mr. Graham. Mr. Mahmoud, belay that order; that is, take hold of them, but they stay here for now." She turns to Okmyx and curtly says: "Mr. President. I'm Lieutenant Nia Onn of the U.S.S. Yorktown. I'm in command of this mission. Excuse us for one moment."

She moves closer to Booker and, facing away from Okmyx and almost resting her cheek against Booker's--close enough to feel the heat from his skin and light prickle of stubble--murmurs softly into his ear:

"Few things, Book. Take some breaths. FYI, I replaced Rangin as mission leader a couple hours ago. We need to get Singh's approval before you can get your hands on Krako, much as I know you want to. He's the vice president, not just some rando bad guy. Don't worry, we've got evidence, and obviously plenty of witnesses to what he just did to Kylah."

She feels how tense he is--she was just as tense only moments ago, but she's very aware of his bond with the Elasian officer, and the fact that he might be replaying the attack in his head, wondering if he could've prevented it somehow. Knowing this, it's all she can do to keep her hand from reaching up and rubbing his arm to reassure him. But obviously, that's not possible. She keeps her body professional, straight and tall as she continues:

"In the meantime, roll with it, okay? Bad cop routine is fine, but don't undercut me. I'm dressed like a tart and I've been acting like a lush. I need to get some cred. with this guy. Got it?" She leans back just far enough to see if his eyes are glaring at her or if he's at least somewhat cooled down.

Cheverez says to Onn, "Your report is acknowledged. We were standing by to stun everyone in the building, but then your transmission was drowned out by gunfire and the Security teams went in. Mr. Nguyen is standing by if you need to beam up Ens. Kylah or anyone else."

Dr. T'Var, working with her instruments on Kylah and not looking up, says, "They're deep wounds, but not life-threatening. She is capable of being transported; I think I should return to the ship with her." She sounds as worried as an emotionally-controlled Vulcan can be.

Mahmoud replies to Onn, "Understood, ma'am." Krako is still phaser-stunned, but one of the Security guards stands next to him for the Transporter Room to identify and beam them both up. Cledd and Yeg are taken into custody by another guard.

Yeg says, "I've got a lot to tell you Feddies." Graham has a glimpse of the disgusted expression on Cledd's face before the young Okmyx assumes a carefully-neutral expression.

President Okmyx, his hands still raised, says hastily to Graham, "Sure, sure! Anything I can do, you know I will. Kalo and all my boys are here to help, too. I'm just glad you nailed Krako, the punk."

"Thank you for trying anyway Chief," Rangin says quietly back over the comm channel. His instincts had been spot on for once and yet Kylah is still there in a bloodied heap on the floor. Whatever happened it appears that Mr. Graham's much vaunted prowess is not as sharp as he makes out.

Feeling sad and disgusted tfat once again Kylsh is injured, he wonders if she should ever be allowed on another away trip. Then again you're aversge redshirt would not have survived past the second planet.

With T'Var treating her, Rangin gives a wide berth to the rest of the group. No doubt Lt. Onn will be celebrating the end of a successful mission and Rangin wants little part of it. Instead he takes out his tricorder and does a sweep of the room looking for the anomolous signal that had appeared previously.

A whispered I wouldn't have ever wanted you down here in harm's way but I'm glad you were... dies on Graham's lips as Nia moves close and he hears what she has to say.

His jaw clenches and unclenches, and he looks away.

"I'd recommend Security handle this scene," he says quietly. "But your orders are understood, Ma'am."

Nia watches Booker's eyes shift away from hers, and though she's been wearing this glittery handkerchief of a dress for a while now, she feels cold for the first time.

"Don't worry. We've got plenty of Security." She keeps her voice low and tries to be reassuring, but now there's an unnatural layer of uncertainty that she can't hide, and adds even more quietly: "At least, I thought we did."

Nia returns to the still disconcerting view of the injured young officer. She wonders if Booker's upset with her because now, instead of being able to blame Rangin for Kylah's injury, he has to pin the guilt on Nia herself. If that's the case, he'll have to get in line.

"Okay, T'Var. If she can be moved, then get her up there." Nia, sick of having to talk into her cleavage, sticks her hand down her front to yank the communicator from her 20th century undergarments, which are just as ridiculous as the clothing. Her breasts are a bit sore where the metal device pressed against her flesh, but she refrains from rubbing them in front of the mixed company.

"Onn to Nguyen. We need to get Ensign Kylah to Sickbay. Did I hear right--is there something wrong with the transporter?" While waiting for a response, she examines Cledd. "Didn't get wounded yourself at all, did you? Looked like the two of you were trying to help each other. As the team leader and her crewmate, I'm grateful for your attempt. But in the end, she made sure she got the knife, not you. Hope you appreciate that. Maybe enough to start telling us the truth? Though why you wanna protect that vermin is beyond me."

She shakes her head and faces Okmyx again. "Mr. President, we need to question your son here. And you. Do you have any objection to--willingly--assisting in our investigation, by going up to our ship? That'd be the ideal arrangement."

Rangin's tricorder sweep reveals nothing unexpected in the ballroom, except, he notices, that Kylah's readings do not appear to be those of a typical Elasian.

T'Var nods and says, "Understood, Mr. Onn." She gets her communicator back from the pile of equipment earlier confiscated by President Okmyx's men, and stands next to Kylah. "T'Var to Yorktown. Two to beam up. Please have a gurney and med team ready for us in the Transporter Room."

"Acknowledged, Doctor," says Nguyen, and shortly beams them up, after assuring Onn that the transporter is working fine.

Cledd, hearing the Sidonian woman, crosses his arms and glumly says nothing.

His father glares at him, turns, smiles at her and says, "Like I said, I wanna help. Here, up there, wherever you like, hon-- er, Lieutenant."

The placidity of Okmyx the Elder is a bit surprising, but Nia just raises an eyebrow slightly and gives him a brief, cool smile. She's not his 'honey' and is no more pleased than Ensign Kylah was to hear the endearment, even if he was smart enough to cut it off. "Good to hear, sir. In the meantime..."

She glances around the room. There's such a mixture of people that she can't possibly determine which are regular guests and which were--are?--were Krako's now-disarmed goons. Probably the better-dressed types are guests, but you never know. "Okay, everyone," she says, projecting as clearly as she can. "Many of you are guests--and musicians," she adds with a nod a the stage. "You've just been through an ordeal, and on behalf of Starfleet I'm sorry you had to endure all this. I know you wanna get home, or at least find a place to relax. We'll make sure that happens as soon as possible. Just give us a few more minutes."

She lifts a corner of her mouth in a crooked smile toward Cledd. "I bet after a night like this, you might not be getting repeat customers from this group. Not so good for business, betraying your dad and kidnapping people who meant you no harm, huh?"

Petty, sure, but Nia doesn't care. Let him realize what a screw-up he is. He had a nice setup here and he let some kind of daddy-issue ruin what genuinely seems like an attractive club, from what little she's seen of it. She focuses on the pretty impressive number of red-shirted officers in the room. Scanning the group, she absently realizes she's slept with nearly a third of the men. Or came close, no pun intended, she thinks, eyeing Booker before returning to address the armed squadron.

"I thanked the leads on this, but all of you did excellent, efficient work. I appreciate it immensely. What we need now is to separate the guests from the goons. Mr. Graham," she says abruptly. "Could you and Doub--um, Ensign Rawlings here please coordinate with Mr. Kalo and help identify Krako and Cledd's men?"

A thought occurs to her and she grimaces. Zabo. That bastard.

She snaps her head to Mr. Kalo. "Krako's guy, someone named Zabo. He and a handful of men were 'helping' us at the hostage site. We're not gonna be able to deal with them. Guess that'll be your job, unless my higher-ups have a solution to that. There was also one of Cledd's boys, Yommyck, I think it was? Real quick on the trigger, that one."

Nia smiles at Cledd. "Thanks to about a hundred bullets, I think I came about two inches away from never seeing this lovely establishment of yours--or any other establishment, lovely or not. That would've been a shame. Rangin, do you remember if I got his name right? Yommyck? Either way, Kalo, he's someone to watch out for." She shrugs Yommyck, if that is in fact his name, out of her thoughts.

Suddenly she reaches out to Booker under the pretext of stopping him from moving away. Mostly she just has a strong urge to... connect. Maybe it's the memory of how close she came to death not long ago. "I just wanted..." Nia hesitates, not knowing what she can say to him, then just nods toward the area where the amassed weaponry is being stored. "Before you start to separate the guests from the goons, you might as well follow T'Var's lead as far as retrieving whatever was taken from you. And Kylah's equipment too, whatever she had. She'll want it back, I'm sure. Maybe you want to be the one to..."

Nia doesn't finish, just releases Booker's arm with a pretty useless shrug. He needs to get to work, she might as well let him. They'll deal with... whatever this is... later.

She knows she needs to get in touch with the Yorktown, but before she does, she takes stock of everything and, when her gaze falls on one almost-forgotten individual, she sets her jaw as she mulls over what to do about him. Okay. Time to take advantage of the non-Security officers in the room. "Lt. Garcia," she says, addressing one of the three remaining non-Security officers in the ballroom, aside from her, of course. "And Ensign Rangin. C'mere, if you will, please?" While she waits, Nia moves closer to the stage, making sure she, Rangin and Garcia can have a little privacy as she discusses this slightly delicate issue.

Rangin mulls over the readings from the room. Ensign Kylah not being a full Elasian doesn't bother him anymore and indeed, one of these days he would be only to keen to find out just how far her abilities stretched towards being a full Elasian.

But that is merely scientific curiousity, and besides, the chances of Kylah ever allowing him now to investigate such a option, on such a personal topic, is laughable. Another of the Universe's mysteries dangled just out of reach.

No, he is more bothered by the reading from earlier that appears to have vanished and he runs a quick diagnostic on the tricorder, which will, of course, come back and tell him everything is fine with it. As they always do.

His thoughts are interrupted by Lt. Onn and her slight informality grates on his nerves. No, wait, it's not so much her as the fact she's in charge that grates. Then again, why Captain Singh had ever put him in this position is beyond him, as it appears that nothing he had done was either quick enough of good enough for the mission. Then again, he thinks back and the order to let this group go to the casino is his. Knowing his current luck, Singh will be tearing a strip off him for allowing it and in due course, being responsible for the injury to Ensign Kylah. Odds on that Graham already thought like that.

But at this point in time, all he can do is suck it up, obey orders and wait for later. He shoulders the tricorder and heads across to where Lt. Onn is waiting.

"Ma'am?" he enquires politely as he approaches and waits for her to speak.

Nia nods at Rangin and, whenever Garcia joins them, will begin. "Thanks again for everything. Aside from Kylah's injury, which... is a big aside, I know. But let's face it, the girl's an injury magnet." She hesitates, then shakes her head. "Sorry. I won't make light of her situation. Point is, we all did a good job with minimal casualties. I know security saved the day, they usually do when tactics and muscles are needed, but it took solid background snooping and strategizing to get us here too. So, go Team Brain. We techies and engies prevailed too."

She smiles briefly. "Anyway. There's a little unfinished business, and I'd like your opinions here. We need to make sure Lt. Morris is handled carefully. We've all been teamed up, so unless I'm mistaken, none of us has dealt with him yet. While Security separates everyone, I'd like you to chat with him. I'd ask Mr. Graham, but I think... well, Morris will be less inclined to assume he's being interrogated by one of you. With Security, even the best officers when put under stress can make people feel defensive. Whereas Garcia, you're a Comms expert, I assume you know how to communicate. And Rangin..."

She looks at the shorter man. He... he doesn't like her. Or trust her. Or both. She doesn't need him to, and frankly she might not like or trust him much, either. She really can't get a reading on the guy. Is he slippery, as Booker thinks, or just super-self-contained and hyper-defensive? Could be one, both, or neither.

"Rangin, you're a sharp observer. And a scientist. You might be able to connect with Morris on that level. Since none of us has met him formally... again, as far as I remember... this is a good chance to get to know him. You guys should try to see if he's been incredibly lucky in evading all these intertwined gangster factions or what."

Her fingers drum a rhythm on her hip as she stares at the lone CAG member thoughtfully. "I mean... his group was supposed to be taking measure of this place, right? I'm not a sociologist, but seems to me they've done kind of a crappy job if they weren't able to suss out that Cledd here was in league with Krako, and that Krako's little Feddie cult seems to have been a load of bullshit. At least if Kylah's accusations were right. Before Krako went after her, she was spouting off some pretty sharp claims, stuff I don't think any of us saw. As you heard, the DNA evidence she thought of backed her up as far as Krako's involvement goes with the mainframe. So was that just a lucky guess while she was busy provoking him just for the hell of it, or did she manage to get Morris--or even Cledd--to say something privately to her? You know her way better than I do, you've been close to her, how do you think she figured all that--"

Nia cuts off at once when she realizes she's been focusing on Rangin during this last part. If she were the blushing type, she'd blush now--but she isn't, so she doesn't. Further, with Garcia here, she can't elaborate on why she just stopped herself. All she can do is shake her head in a tiny, apologetic gesture, and continues. "Um, I'd like some ideas on that, but... anyway, just find out what Morris knows, please. Both of you. I'd appreciate your insight."

She ends with a smile--open toward Garcia, slightly regretful to Rangin. "That okay, or do you have any other ideas before we clear out of here? I do think that cousin might be ripe for the plucking, informationally speaking, that is. What do you think?"

Graham's surprised as Nia takes his arm, but does not pull away. He listens silently, then says quietly, "Thanks. It's all right, I'll just get to work here."

He nods slightly, still wondering why she felt it necessary to belay his previous orders, but whatever...

He gestures toward Kalo. "Kalo...I assume you have a good read on who's-who here? We need to ID all Krako's or Cledd's muscle. Plus anybody who might've been in his inner circle or heard any juicy stuff...girlfriends or whatever."

Cledd makes a sour face. "Go to hell," he says to Onn.

All of the previously-confiscated Starfleet gear is soon properly redistributed.

Kalo is able to easily point out his men and Krako's, as well as those who are just guests of the Paramount. He tells Graham, his lip curling a little, "All of these guys with Krako are just his goons, his gunsels and foot soldiers. I doubt he confided in any of 'em. Zabo is his right-hand man, and I don't see him here."

Garcia listens to Onn and says, "I'd be glad to talk to Mr. Morris, ma'am. And of course I agree that the Okmyxes, father and son, and the cousin, are definitely worth further questioning. Seems to me you have things well in hand; I don't have any other suggestions for next steps."

Graham nods in acknowledgment. "Right. Well if I had my way, we'd round this Zabo up for questioning too." He scowls and shrugs. "We'll see how that goes, I guess."

Nia smiles appreciatively at Garcia. "Thanks. Also, you get some points for pronouncing 'Okmyxes.' Doesn't exactly roll off the tongue, does it? Guess that's why you're in Communications."

Garcia seems like a decent guy. Ajay told her the gossip about some dust-up down on OCIII regarding his allegedly having endangered Kylah--who else?--but it was pretty bad luck to be assigned to be that girl's backup in the first place. Like trying to lead a snowman through a forest fire.

Anyway, he's not someone she's worked with much, and he's been awfully quiet since she's joined the mission. Then again, his role seems nebulous. Why did Rangin choose two Communications officers? Well, maybe Garcia came in handy before I got here, who knows?

She turns to Rangin with her warm smile still intact, expecting a reply, or a nod, or really anything at all would be nice. Maybe he's pissed off at her alluding to his connection with Kylah. Or maybe he's also still steamed at her taking over the mission. Not my idea, bub.

Her hips shift slightly. She's anxious to get in touch with the Captain already and get permission to beam the hell off this planet and take a bunch of alien prisoners with her. "And you, Ensign?"

Rangin patiently waits while Lt Garcia finishes, before he responds politely to Lt Onn's questions with a nod of his head. "The only dealings, I have had with Mr Morris, were when we first beamed down to make sure he was safe. Other than that he was with T'Var's group."

He's not sure why she is bringing up any history he has with Kylah, probably at Graham's request to needle him when they can. That would be typical of him and quite possibly of her. Better to stay calm and neutral and give little away.

"I think talking to all of them to try and discern what they know is a good idea, although I don't believe inviting him for a drink to relax will necessarily work at this point. As for any ideas, I'd ask if there are any more private rooms in this establishment where it is more likely to put people at ease when talking to them instead of trying it here."

Well, at least he's talking to me. Nia nods at Rangin's comments. "Good idea, that. Morris probably wants to get back in touch with his comrades--at least, I would, if I'd been separated from my colleagues who were then put in danger--but I have the inclination to keep them separate for a little while longer. So go find a waiter or maybe one of the fellas up here--" She tilts her head up at the stage and musicians. "See if they can offer some space to chat with Morris. I need to contact the Captain, so maybe I'll have more info for you if the news that Cledd and Krako are in custody has reached the hired hands we beamed up. Seems like a bargain can be made now that they know their boss or bosses are out of the picture."

She examines both of them. Garcia has rank and communications experience; Rangin has... well, he's from Coridan. You don't survive a place like that without some skill in negotiating with thugs. Plus, for whatever reason Nia can't fathom, Singh did originally want him in charge of the mission. Just because he took too long to make decisions doesn't mean he can't still gain leadership experience.

"Rangin, you had charge of things before I got here. I'm gonna deputize you, so to speak, by ceding the leadership role to you while I speak with the ship and possibly beam up, either temporarily or permanently. Both of you are smart and you don't think like Security. Sometimes law and order types are the figurative hammers who think everything's a nail, know what I mean? We need hammers, but we also need... um... other tools. Levers, crowbars, tweezers..." Nia finds herself grinning. "Okay, I lost the metaphor, but I'm sure you get the point.

"So, talk to Morris, and... maybe some of the other Krako goonlets. They might know where Zabo is likely to hide, not to mention Yommyck or whatever the fu--the hell his name was. Given how long you were working with Zabo, you're probably interested in seeing him get his comeuppance." Comeuppance? Where did that come from? Talk like a normal person, lady. "If that means coordinating with the other Security folks, go for it. Okay? Thanks, guys."

She gives them an encouraging smile and, assuming they don't have any more words for her, will walk back to lean against the stage--damn, these heels are killing her--and will flip open her communicator. "Onn to Captain Singh and Commander Vargas. I have a status report and a couple of questions, time permitting. Can I proceed?"

Three Crows gives orders, and the Yorktown Security personnel fan out throughout the Paramount. They secure the building and establish checkpoints. They also find several comfortable suites upstairs - apparently for private parties, gambling and who knows what else - that would be suitable for discussion or interrogation.

Krako begins groggily emerging from having been phaser-stunned.

The Captain says, "Singh here. You and your landing party should know that Ens. Kylah is being treated in Sickbay and her injuries are definitely not life-threatening. But yes, please proceed, Lieutenant."

"Thank you, ma'am. Just a moment..." Nia mutes the communicator and takes a moment to exhale in relief. She might not think much of the girl but she sure as hell doesn't want Ensign Kylah seriously hurt. She looks around at her team. "Landing party members. Ensign Kylah is being treated and should be okay. Thought you'd wanna know." If she can catch Graham's eye, she'll smile encouragingly.

Then she returns to her communicator. "Here's the situation, Captain, and it's a little tricky. There are upwards of a dozen people involved in this CAG scheme, which as far as I can gather was as much a con job as a kidnapping. The primary figures are Mr. Krako, who is still stunned..." Nia tilts her head to judge if this is still accurate. She didn't think her weapon was set high enough to knock him out this long. Yommyck, or whatever his frickin' name was, recovered more quickly and he fell down the stairs and bonked his head. Ah, but now she sees he's moving around a bit. Good.

"...And, uh, his apparent but unadmitted cohort, Cledd Okmyx, the President's oldest son. To be honest, Ensign Kylah seems to have gotten some kind of admission from Krako or Cledd, or maybe she just guessed, but all I know comes from her own accusations. And that's what got Krako to try and shut her up with his knife. So it'll help us figure out motive if we get Kylah's testimony at some point. Unless we get some confessions, but from what I'm seeing of Cledd Okmyx, that seems unlikely.

"The short version, at least according to Ensign Kylah's theory, is that Krako arranged for Cledd to kidnap the hostages, intending to frame the President. Krako's alleged idea was to help us 'find' the CAG in order to curry favor with the Federation. So it doesn't seem the hostages were ever in real danger--not that being held against their will for a week isn't bad enough.

"Anyway. The tricky part is how to deal with the suspects. In addition to Krako and Cledd Okmyx, there are also their associates and various gunmen in our custody too, although some are at large--including Krako's right-hand guy, who I'd really like to get my hands on. What makes me pause is the jurisdiction issue. And, less important but still significant, the, uh, protocol.

"The President's agreed to help us and come aboard the Yorktown, and I think that someone at his level warrants being met and spoken to by... well, you, Captain. Or Commander Vargas, anyway." She winces at her last words, although she smiles simultaneously at the phrasing. Vargas won't like being called an 'anyway,' she suspects--not by her. Damn, how many stupid things have I said this mission? Bilitrium, where are you when I need you? She inhales deeply.

"Meanwhile, of course, I need your decision on who to bring up to the ship. Security wants possession of them, I'm sure, but... well, I'm looking at the bigger picture here. This is a sovereign planet, not a Federation member. The suspects aren't our citizens. But Starfleet personnel were kidnapped, and one officer just had an attempt on her life, so... whose jurisdiction is this? Who gets to prosecute and advocate for the suspects? Or judge them? Or even take care of the punishment, if any?" Nia lifts her arm, somewhat helplessly. "That's all above my level, I know, Captain, but before I drag anyone off this planet I want to make sure it's okay to do so without messing up any future legal proceedings. And, finally, there's the issue of the missing suspects, like Krako's associate, Zabo, who's at large. Do we try to round him up, if we can? I await your instructions, ma'am."

Graham sighs and forces himself to relax a bit and nod in response to what he takes to be Nia's deliberate glance his way.

He notes that Krako seems to be stirring, and while Nia is--as well she should, he conceedes, although it's not how he would have secured the scene, briefs the Captain--moves toward the prone goon.

He waits for her to be done in order to ask if he can take custody of the prisoner--because for god's sake he can't be free to leave...

He's more at peace with being patient, positioning himself above Krako, because as far as he is concerned any threatening move by the goon by every standard of procedure, until told otherwise, justifies using whatever force is necessary to control a violent felon.

"Thank you, Mr. Onn," the Captain says. There is a pause, and Onn can practically hear her thinking. "Federation law generally permits us to arrest, and take offworld for prosecution, those who commit crimes against Starfleet personnel. But the Prime Directive still applies, although only partly, to Sigma Iotia II. It's a pre-warp culture, but it was contacted and extensively culturally contaminated by the Horizon crew before the Prime Directive ever took effect. Capt. Kirk did his best to repair or ameliorate the damage, and the Civil Advisory Groups, and the Syndicate he established, were intended to continue that process." She sighs. "Recent events have complicated things even more, obviously. In short, it's a mess." Another pause. "All right. At a minimum, I think you should determine who are the principal wrongdoers, and either interrogate down there, or beam up to the ship, those whom you believe, using your best judgment, deserve further investigation. I leave that to your discretion. And if you believe you can safely do so, Lieutenant, you should release all innocent civilians from the scene - guests of the club, for instance - and any subordinate, uh, gangsters, who did nothing but follow orders from their bosses."

Krako sits up, shivers and rubs his eyes. Mahmoud is standing nearby, watching him, and smiles as Graham approches.

Rangin nods at Lt. Onn orders and turns to Lt. Garcia. "Let's start with Lt. Morris and see what he will say."

He heads off to find Morris and one of those quiet rooms for an effective debrief.

Nia thanks the captain and looks around the ballroom, hoping to get her ducks in a row. She notes Graham's changed position and moves over to join him.

"Sorry about the delay. I needed to discuss protocol and jurisdiction issues before we started beaming up possible prisoners to the ship. Long and the short of it is, the Captain says we can bring up whoever our main participants/co-conspirators are--or, you can interview them down here. It's up to you.

"Meanwhile, the guests are free to go, and apparently so are the gangsters who were 'only following orders,' which I guess is the kind of justice one can expect on this planet." Nia shakes her head slightly and says in an undertone, "One of those 'following orders' types did his best to drill two dozen holes into me not long ago. If I ate more pasta and swam fewer laps, he'd've caught me for sure and I'd be the one getting stitched up--or more likely I'd be joining Fujishiro out in the vast vacuum out there. So I'm not feeling as charitable toward the foot soldiers as those on the Bridge."

She shrugs. "Anyway. I survived and I'm here. So can we talk for a second in relative private? I need your advice. This is obviously a Security specialty. Not to mention that of the entire original landing party, you're the only one still planetside who was present for this whole..." Nia's hand whirls to gesture around the room. "...This whole escalating mobster showdown thing. With Kylah in Sickbay and T'Var there too, you're our only witness. We only heard the bare essentials through your communicator--which, by the way, smart move on that."

She smiles, glances down at Krako, and takes a step backward. "Let's talk and let Mahmoud babysit the ersatz Feddie. That okay?"

Graham takes a deep breath and blinks for a long moment. "Of course," and, he adds more quietly, "Nia."

"Bear in mind this...guy...is likely up on attempted murder charges, Faisal," Graham says gruffly, glancing from Krako to his friend.

He gestures for Nia to follow and says under his breath, "Just following direct orders from their bosses and taking the initiative wihtout a direct order to take a shot are two different things I'm willing to take issue with, to the Captain." He pauses. "I'm...I'm glad you're OK. And, uh, you're a convincing flirtatious drunk."

Rangin and Garcia head upstairs with Morris and find a quiet room to talk. "What's going on?" Morris asks on the way. "Aren't we going up to the ship now? I'd like to see the other CAG members."

Mahmoud nods and says to Graham, "Understood. He's not going anywhere."

Three Crows, who overheard the Captain, says, "Anybody who actually shot at you should qualify as a 'principal wrongdoer,' I'd say, Mr. Onn."

Kylah wakes up alone in a darkened Sickbay recovery room. The lifesigns status monitor over her bed emits a quiet, regular thump, tracking her heartbeat. Her shoulder is a little sore; she is very tired but feels all right otherwise. After a few seconds Dr. T'Var comes in. "Hello, Ensign," she says. "I'm glad to see you again. You needed a little surgery and a blood transfusion, but your injuries are healed. How do you feel?"

Kylah tries to focus on the doctor. Part of her mind is still on the planet, in the ballroom--she was there only a second ago, it seems--and she cannot quite accept her new surroundings, familiar though they are.

"Tired. Bruised. But..." She starts to look toward her right, to the shoulder and chest where she remembers seeing the knife slicing through her flesh, and then nothing but blood. The movement hurts and her head falls back on the bed. "...I am all right."

Her voice sounds weak and groggy even to herself, but she persists. "I do not know how I got here, but I know I must owe you my life. Thank you, Doctor. It is not enough, but... thank you." Licking her lips, which feel dry, she takes as big a breath as her leftover soreness will allow. "How long have I been here? Is everything... are all of us safe? The crew, I mean. And what happened to--"

A man's reddened face, twisted in fury, flashes before her. She closes her eyes with a shudder, pauses, then finishes, "What happened to Krako? And Cledd? Please tell me, Doctor."

Something that's been stretched and taut within Nia seems to relax when Booker utters her name in that quiet voice intended just for her. The fact that a kidnapper/con-man/potential murderer and the guy guarding him might have overheard it doesn't diminish the moment.

She catches Three Crows' comment and smiles, somewhat ruefully. "Good to know. Trouble is, I kinda gave him a free ticket to splitsville when he, uh, passed along some information." Nia prefers not to give further details until both Okmyxes, Elder and Lesser, are out of hearing. "I have no idea where he ran off to, but I know he didn't intend to be found. So, yeah, that one's on me. What can I say, I made the deal and I keep my word."

She follows Booker and accidentally-on-purpose brushes her arm up against his as they reach a more private space. Nia is glad to view him, squarely, not having to use her peripheral vision or a sidelong glance. "Thanks for the compliment. Flirtatiousness isn't really my style. Usually I just get straight to the point." She smiles up at him. "And truth is, I've never actually been drunk--I can't get drunk, at least I haven't found anything that's worked so far. Not since I left Sidonia. Even there, women like me aren't allowed--"

Shit. Shit shit shit. Nia stops that line of thought dead. She sure as hell isn't going to get into that now.

"Doesn't matter. I just mean, I can thank my act to how many of my pals have gotten soused to the gills. Now I get to compliment your playacting: From what I heard, you make a pretty convincing jealous, proprietary pig when it came to trying to get Kylah out of there. Almost too convincing." Her eyebrow raises with mock suspicion. "Then again, you didn't know I was nearby."

Her playful tone fades. "I hope my showing up wasn't a problem. I made sure Rangin didn't tell you I was down here. I didn't want to throw you off your game. I know you're a professional and you've probably served with women you've been involved with... but it felt like the right decision once I was called in."

It's on the tip of her tongue to explain about Collins--he doesn't seem to have noticed that his protege's not here--but Nia quickly makes another judgment call to leave that unsaid for now, at least until either they're back on the ship or he asks... whichever comes first.

She also wants to talk about her experience and find out how he feels about what happened with Krako and make sure he's not beating himself up over Kylah... but none of this should be dealt with now. Tonight, she thinks hopefully. Though the dull ache in her chest reminds her that tonight she needs to rest and replenish. Fuck. Okay. Tomorrow night, then.

"Anyway. To business. As I said, this is obviously a Security job, and you're the guy who's been present this whole time, so as far as I'm concerned you are it regarding any interrogations or operations you find necessary to undertake. The president's willing to join us on the ship, but I'm wondering how he'll feel with his son getting the third degree, much less how in hell Cledd will get punished. Or Krako or any of the others. Krako's as good as dead if he stays here on the planet. But we can't cart him around on the ship, so..."

She shakes her head at the big mess. Singh was right. This really screws things up as far as the Prime Directive goes--or any semblance of Federation justice.

Can't think about that now. "Point is, what are your thoughts? Who do we interview down here, if anyone? Or should we go up to the ship? Who gets questioned separately, who gets grouped together?"

Dr. T'Var says, "You've been back aboard ship for about half an hour. Everyone is safe; no one else was injured. Lt. Onn and two Security teams have established control over the nightclub. Mr. Krako was phaser-stunned by Ens. Graham just as he attacked you, and is now, I believe, in custody. Cledd is also being detained."

Kylah take another deep breath, this one of relief. But she is still uneasy. "Mr. Krako... he was the instigator, Doctor. He fed off Cledd's resentment toward his father. Cledd was offered a position of power, in return for taking the hostages. I know this. They...I was so close to them... they as much as told me. But not aloud." Her voice is very soft as she acknowledges what she sensed from the two men.

Then she shakes her head. "But you know that such information is of no use. Both because I cannot reveal how I know this, and also because... there was no real proof. I took a guess about there being DNA on the mainframe but even if such tests were positive--" She stares up questioningly at T'Var, but goes on before the doctor can answer her. "Even if fingerprints or DNA existed, I knew they could be explained if, say, Krako ever visited the CAG building. It was not enough.

"So... that is why I... why I escalated things. I thought we needed an admission. I thought if I kept accusing Krako, and he continued to blame Cledd and his father, eventually Cledd would have to acknowledge the truth. But he was willing for his father to be framed, even for himself to be considered the only guilty party, rather than reveal that he had been acting on Krako's behalf. I do not understand that."

And yet, as she speaks, she wonders if she might understand after all. Would she give up Aldaan in such a scenario? As much as she fears him, she still feels loyalty toward him, as family, as the only person who accepted her, more than her parents ever did. There is also a faint sense of pride. She would not want to be considered a mere puppet.

"That is why I goaded Krako, Doctor. It did not work. I never expected... I never expected to be attacked. Again." Kylah closes her blurring eyes, hoping to prevent herself from crying, but when she opens them again the hot tears against her skin prove the effort failed. "Dr. T'Var," she says after a time. "Was I right? About the DNA, I mean? Do you think I will be questioned? And if so... what can I say if people ask me how I knew?"

T'Var replies, "I understand that the rescued CAG personnel have already said, in debriefing, that Krako was never, to their knowledge, in the safe house. He would thus have had no opportunity to come in contact with their SC42-D3 mainframe until after they were kidnapped, but traces of his DNA were found on it. Your stratagem worked, Ensign, although unfortunately not quite as you had hoped it would." She thinks. "You may indeed be questioned, or at least debriefed. If you still do not wish to disclose your telepathic gifts, perhaps you could say that you made an educated guess, or simply, as I recall the Earth phrase, 'played a hunch.'"

She gives Kylah a handkerchief and says tentatively, "I regret that you are distressed. Would... a hug be welcomed by you at this time? I could raise my mental defenses to avoid any unwanted psi contact."

Graham clears his throat. "Sorry I was, ah, put off earlier...I wanted to take advantage of the situation, use the momentum...get Krako, Cledd and Yeg off-balance and into an unfamiliar environment where they felt powerless--and we could let 'em stew for a bit--ASAP."

He shrugs. "Figure somebody could file a diplomatic complaint later. From a Security perspective we had an officer down and a hot scene."

"I think we want the president--voluntarily, even I get that--on Yorktown. Ditto Krako and Cledd, I think we have full justification to hold them onboard, and sepratetly, till we interrogate them. We want Yeg too...I think he'll turn evidence. But we may have to ask him if he'll come volnutarily, given that we secured the scene at this point. Maybe we treat Yeg kinda nice, get him a drink, a comfortable room, so long he seems amenable to coming clean."

Graham frowns. "Trick is Okmyx...I mean, what's he gonna want to believe, and then wants he gonna want to do when it comes to Cledd. And even I don't want Krako executed out of hand."

"Even you," Nia says, smiling despite the gravity of the situation. "That is saying something. Everyone knows you're a shoot-first, sort-out-the-dead kind of guy. But yeah, I think we both know the odds of Okmyx letting Krako live after attempting that kind of betrayal and getting his stupid kid involved are slim to none.

"But... as far as how you were handling the scene... your instincts were probably right. You and I both know this whole thing should've been led by Security in the first place. Maybe I was wrong to put the brakes on things. It's just, I've seen the Federation get a bee in its collective bonnet over legalities. Sometimes they let some really crappy situations stand rather than violating their code of honor. I'm sure you've bumped up against that sorta thing even more than I have.

"Anyway. We'll go with your instincts--and since I have kind of a hostile thing going with Cledd, maybe I shouldn't be in there with him. Or maybe I should; your call. I agree with you about Okmyx being a problem, too. Right now he's Mr. Helpful. But if he can, I think he'll try to make sure his kid is protected no matter what.

"But what about... Damn, I just lost my train of thought. Sorry, I'm a little..." Nia rubs her temples, feeling somewhat dizzy. What time is it? She pulls out her communicator to check, but continues speaking as she does. "Oh, yeah. What about legal representation? You had more time with the mission briefing than I did--my briefing took about five minutes. So maybe you know: do they even have lawyers or whatever the equivalent is here on the planet? Delaney acted as the defense for a court martial case not so long ago--before you got on board--so maybe he'll have to be present. Or... well, I guess we can just ask Okmyx..."

Nia is slowing down not just because she's tired or because her Bilitrium levels are low. The truth is, she's been staring at Booker's face and right now the pull to kiss him is almost overwhelming. And it's not that he's attractive--though he definitely is--or even because she cares deeply for him--though she definitely does. But after that gun incident and the Kylah stabbing, Nia needs to feel connected to life. The real, warm, pulsing life of Booker's mouth beneath hers, on hers. On her.

"Um..." Her skin feels hot. "Also... so... one more thing. What are your thoughts on Morris?" She realizes she's stepped closer to him, and reluctantly inches back. Talk about Rangin. That'll throw cold water on the situation like nothing else will. "I sent Rangin and Garcia to chat with him 'cause from what little I did hear when I was briefed, it seemed weird that he managed to escape all this. Am I paranoid? Did you spot anything off with him?"

Kylah has started carefully dabbing at her tears with the handkerchief when T'Var makes her offer. She looks up in surprise. And then she cannot help it: despite her soreness and fear and self-recriminations, a sound bursts from her lips that starts as a sob, but quickly turns into laughter.

"Forgive me, Doctor, I am not laughing at you. It is just... the way you asked, so formally..." After blowing her nose and satisfying herself that her face is clean, she shakes her head. "I suppose that is laughing at you. I am sorry, truly, Doctor."

The laughter settles into a small smile, and then her expression returns to normal. "I do not know when I last laughed," she says, looking down at the crumpled handkerchief. Finally she returns to T'Var. "I am relieved that it seems Krako will not be able to talk his way out of the evidence. At least I did something right. And..." Her voice is very soft. "I would appreciate a hug, actually."

T'Var says "No apology necessary," and gives Kylah a long, close hug.

Rangin smiles politely at the CAG member as they settle quietly in one of the rooms, wondering what information they are likely to get out of him.

"Thank you for joining us Lt. Morris, unfortunately, we need to try and gather as much information as possible about the situation while we can." He sighs as if the activity they are about to commence is undesired but necessary. "With the scenes that just occurred, we need to know what the people on this planet knew about the CAG and its situation, at least from your point of view. Once we have that down, I'm sure you will be able to visit the others, but duty calls first."

He casts a quick glance aside to Lt Garcia, to see if he is happy playing along with this. If Morris knows something or was in some way partially responsible, then they need to drag it out of him. Rangin sets up the tricorder to capture the conversation. He isn't hiding it, he's not going to use it for some forcing confession like some would.

"So Sir, perhaps you could, in your own words, mention the dealings between the CAG and Krako..." he nods at Lt Morris, the implicit gesture of asking him to start and fill in the blanks.

"Sometimes they let some really crappy situations stand rather than violating their code of honor." Graham repeats what Nia said, shaking his head slightly. "On the flip side, the only reason I'm still in Starfleet, or for that matter, not in a cell is because command had its head up its ass... Anyway, not the time for that story."

Bad memories vanish for a moment as her smile sort of percolates through his mind...because she's just beautiful, and...well, happy to see me, I think...

The he scowls. "Morris worries me a bit...he was all keen on contacting the CAG as soon as I--stupidly in retrospect--let them know they'd been secured. Sent some kind of message shortly before things went wonky here." He sighs.

"I think we should spin up somebody on Yorktown who can keep us honest about the legal niceties, but in the meantime just get these assholes in custody, and cross that bridge when we come to it if they make any legal protest." After a small pause he adds, "Fortuntately Rangin's not here to bust my balls about it, but the fact is if you're entitled to a lawyer but you don't ask for one and you keep talking, it's on you...."

He cuts himself off and looks more closely at Nia, leaning in a little bit. "Nia, are you OK? Uh--that mask thing, do you need that? Regardless," he says quietly, "for whatever reason, you can lean on me." He slightly extends an arm toward her - not enough to be obvious to a casual observer in the room, but enough for her to notice.

Morris blanches. "Well, I already discussed all that with Lt. Collins and the members of her party. Did you discuss it with them already? It's been a long day and I'd rather not repeat myself."

Three Crows approaches Onn and Graham and discreetly coughs into her fist before coming close. "OK if we let the guests and club staff go home, ma'am?" she asks Onn.

Feeling the older woman's arms around her, Kylah returns the hug with her left arm and closes her eyes. The moment reminds her of her old maidservant, the most maternal figure Kylah had growing up. She was tall and sturdy--thicker than T'Var, but her frame was muscled from work, not soft. Still, Kylah felt safe and comforted in her embrace. What would she think of me now?

"Thank you," she says, and releases T'Var to sink back against the pillow. She looks at the monitors, displays that mean nothing to her. "Will I recover fully, Doctor? My left hand still bears the scar of the Slime Devil attack, and my left knee sometimes aches from both the accident on OCIII and the beating on Anubis." She attempts to smile. "I suppose my right leg will be the next limb to suffer some injury."

Nia turns to Three Crows with a little frown. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry, I thought I'd said that you should let 'em go once you separated the goodies--or at least the neutrals--from the baddies. Please, send them home, whoever's home that may be. Thanks, Three Crows, and sorry I wasn't clear."

If Three Crows leaves to follow orders, Nia will look up at Booker. "Really could've sworn I said they could..." That's when she notices his extended arm, and she loses the tiny frown immediately. "Oh Book," she says in an exhale. "Leaning on you is the best suggestion I've heard all day. Trouble is, if I do, I'm not gonna want to let you go. Seriously... I'm feeling okay, don't worry. Just tired. I wasn't expecting to be this active today, and expending adrenaline takes a bit of a toll. As does seeing one of my team hurt."

She lowers her gaze to Booker's chest, which is clad in a sharp shirt and suit jacket--but she's seen him naked and she knows the scars he bears. "Also... I won't lie," she says in a murmur. "Getting shot at by one of those weapons was... not good. When all this is over I may need to process how close that call was. But not now."

With a deep breath, she mentally brushes away the darker thoughts. "So. Let's get it done, then, Ensign. Formally arrest Krako and Cledd, and maybe yank Yeg too, as a material witness--or if you think he rates the scare of a formal arrest to help grease his way to turning against Krako and/or even his dear cousin himself, go for it.

"Meanwhile, I'll tell the other goons that they're free. Although," she adds, "maybe I'll first see if I can get a hint of Zabo's whereabouts--he's Krako's chief errand boy." Suddenly she grins. "I think I have an idea how to sneak it out of them, too."

Leaving the corner, she says under her breath, "By the way, not to hit a sore spot, but I suppose you wouldn't feel like sending Rangin a note just to update him on the Morris stuff, would you? Just, y'know, mentioning the text so he's not flying blind while questioning the guy?" Nia tilts a sideways smile up at him. "I'd phrase it as an order but I'd hate to lose the general mood we've got going..."

"I could've kissed you when you said 'material witness,' but then you had to bring that guy up..." Graham replies, nonetheless smiling slightly.

"I'll take care of it. And..." he pauses a moment. "As far as Zabo goes, stay safe..." He shakes his head. "We're not short on Security personnel. You don't want us flying the ship, but we don't want pilot taking a bullet unnecessarily, OK?"

Assuming Nia departs, Graham thinks for a moment then decides it's a win-win: an urgent text to Rangin is probably better than voice, since he might be someplace this news shouldn't be overheard.

Graham here. Morris was all keen on contacting his team as soon as he learned they were safe. Seemed a little fishy to me. Sent a text before the shit hit the fan here. Might be worth finding out where it really went - to his team or somebody else.

Dr. T'Var steps back and straightens her uniform. She says, "I see no reason why you shouldn't make a complete recovery, Ensign. However, you should know that, when I gave you a complete scan just before surgery, I noticed that there is some slight nerve damage near your lower spine. Nothing debilitating, but it is unusual." Striving to sound light-hearted, she adds, "And has nothing to do with your right leg."

Three Crows hears Onn, nods, moves off and speaks to the other Security officers and the Iotians wearily standing or sitting around. All of those not part of Krako's, Cledd's or Bela Okmyx's entourages head for the doors with alacrity. As they go, Mahmoud helps Krako up from the floor and into a chair.

Rangin's communicator beeps, and he sees Graham's text appear.

A little frisson of nervous energy widens Kylah's eyes at T'Var's comments, although it does not sound as if the doctor is worried. "Nerve damage," she repeats slowly. She tries to concentrate on her back to see if she notices anything unusual, like pain or numbness, but she does not, nor does she recall any difficulty there.

"I... I remember feeling something during Mr. Krako's attack--a phaser blast. Somebody stunned me. It was quite powerful, more than when we were stunned as part of weapons training in the Academy. Although I suppose the weapons at the Academy were set at the lowest level, whereas this... Did Mr. Graham stun Mr. Krako and me at the same time? Could that have caused the damage?"

Nia gives a tiny salute at Booker's reminder to be safe, and murmurs "Aye aye, sir, but I expect that kiss you owe me, with interest." She turns and heads to the area where Three Crows and the other Security officers have gathered the various factions' employees.

"So, Ensign," she says, eyeing the motley crew but talking to Three Crows. She taps one silver-clad foot impatiently. "These are the muscle men, are they? Other than Team Krako, who come thoughtfully color-coordinated in their fake uniforms, do we know who belongs to which boss?" She then shakes her head and shrugs. "Actually... y'know, it doesn't even matter. Each of you kidnapped someone, whether it was the CAG or the group of innocent guests and Starfleet officers right here, who were held without their permission. Putting it mildly, Starfleet doesn't approve of that sort of behavior."

She flicks a knowing look at Three Crows, roughly translated to Prepare for a string of B.S., then paces the length of the group to survey each of the goons on her own. It'd make an interesting experiment to see if she can pick out which guy is most likely to flip, but she's not a mind-reader or a Security expert. After reaching the end, she paces her way back to the other side and finally turns around.

"Well, boys. I've got some bad news and some good news. The bad news is, most of you won't be seeing me again." She smiles and rests her hands on her hips in a way Booker would probably call 'flirtatious.' "I'm not Security and I don't handle arresting, much less incarcerating kidnappers in the ship's Brig."

This is where she tosses another glance at her landing party. They know these guys are being let go. But hopefully none of them will bother refuting her threat. After all, every word is true. What the goons infer isn't her problem.

"But one of you, or maybe two, depending on how things turn out, will get me as your personal escort out of this building, where--after helping out with a little favor--you can scamper off to do... whatever you gangster types do for fun. Wondering how to be part of the second, elite group?"

Nia smiles, her eyes still scanning the men. She wants to notice if one or two of them perk up once she reveals what she wants. "That's easy. We've got Mr. Kalo, who's the President's right-hand man. And Yeg appears to be the yes-man for Junior. But guess who's missing? That's right. Zabo. Krako's boy. Guy wearing one of those uniforms--" Nia tilts her head toward the mock Starfleet uniforms worn by Krako's men--"But who isn't even fit to wear the dress that's barely covering my ass."

After a second or two, Nia loses the smile. "And we want him. We want him pretty damn badly. My guess is, at least one of you knows where he's likely to be. In fact, I bet one of you Krako kids could get in touch with him and arrange a meeting." She looks especially hard at this subgroup of gangsters, trying to see any flickers of interest.

"That's the offer on the table. Free ticket out of here, accompanied by me and a few of my Starfleet cohorts only as long as it takes to grab Zabo. As you think this over, you might be worrying about payback from Krako... yeah, trust me, that's not gonna be a problem. Any way I see this playing out, he's not gonna be around to wear his fake costume and pretend to be a Starfleet Captain anymore."

Nia flips a palm over, gesturing as if she's asking for a dance. "So who's it gonna be? And make it fast, this has dragged on long enough thanks to your bosses and their asinine power games."

Dr. T'Var tells Kylah, "Mr. Graham did inadvertently stun both you and Krako simultaneously, since you were so close together, but that would not have caused this sort of injury. Besides, it is not that recent." She thinks. "Just a moment, and I will compare these readings to the scan results from when you asked to be examined regarding the disappearance of your empathic abilities." She does so on her medical tricorder, and eventually says, looking chagrined, "The damage appears in that scan, as well. I confess I was focusing your brain and neurochemical status at the time, and not your spine."

Krako looks around and scowls at his mooks, some of whom don't meet his gaze or who look at each other and then away. Some try to stare down Onn. No one speaks up.

President Okmyx glances at them all and then says with disgust, "Ah, don't worry about it, sister. My boys can find Zabo, just you wait and see."

Rangin smiles peacefully back across at Lt. Morris as his brain starts to tick over at the words being spoken. Words that would make sense if it had not been for several facts that highlight what he has said as false.

"I see sir, well I am aware of a few brief discussions that you have had with Lt. Collins' away team. But we do need to debrief you and understand what you are aware of."

Rangin looks across innocently despite the fact it was, at that time, his team and can't quite believe that Lt. Morris is unaware that the person sat in front of him was the first person down to greet him. He glances to one side to Lt. Garcia to see if he noted the slips as well.

"So where were we. Perhaps you could tell us what interactions you had with Oxmyx and Krako over the past few weeks?"

No sooner has he askd the question than his communicator buzzes. Rangin gestures for Morris to continue while he casually looks at the message before texting back a single Understood in reply

Graham lets Nia, and, subsequently, Okmyx finish, then approaches Krako.

"You are under arrest and will be taken into Federation custody, for kidnapping, interfering with a Starfleet officer in pursuit of official duties, assault, and my personal favorite attempted murder. Maybe more when I have some time to think about it."

He scowls and turns toward others. "Cledd, Yeg, you are each under arrest for kidnapping, interfering with a Starfleet officer in pursuit of official duties, and criminal conspiracy. You will also be taken into Federation custody."

He snaps open his communicator. "Graham to Yorktown, we have three suspects for beam up. Separate escort requested for each to a cell in the brig."

The doctor's news disconcerts Kylah even further. Anything that reminds her of the mysterious loss of her abilities also brings back the thought of Darren Zweller and... whatever happened to her. First, she must rule out other possibilities.

She takes a deep breath. "Might it go back to the incident on Anubis? Those men used clubs and it felt... it felt as if they were hitting me everywhere." She shuts her eyes for a moment, then looks at T'Var again. "Whatever the cause... could this be connected to--to the temporary loss of my abilities? Something on the base of my spine could affect my brain?"

Nia turns in the direction of the Krako gangsters' stares, frustrated to see that Krako heard her offer. She's glad that Booker is keeping him busy, and she positions herself between the goons and their hopefully soon-to-be-departed boss. When Okmyx butts in, she faces him and nods politely.

"Thank you, Mr. President, I'm sure your men can find him--although, with the greatest respect, they weren't able to find the hostages, despite having a week and more bodies to leave a trail." She continues to smile. "So Zabo seems to be awfully good at hiding things, and he's got extra incentive now. Besides, I'd like him back in one piece, and preferably with all the parts still in working order."

She looks at Three Crows. "Can you please have the Okmyx clan's various helpers moved a bit, so I can talk with some more privacy?" Finally she folds her arms over her chest and eyes the Krako bunch. This time she lowers her voice to avoid being overheard. "Come on, gentlemen, don't be shy. Surely one of you has the brains to take a freebie when it's offered to you."

Morris sighs and answers Rangin's questions, saying much the same as he did when first asked about his contacts with Okmyx and Krako. Rangin has the sense that, although annoyed, he's telling the truth.

"Acknowledged, Mr. Graham," Chief Nguyen replies. "We'll see to it." Krako, Cledd and Yeg do not resist and are soon beamed up to the Yorktown under guard.

T'Var checks farther back in Sickbay records for Kylah's earlier treatments. Finally she says, "No, the wound was not there when you were scanned just after the Anubis... incident. It is more recent than that. And it should have had no effect on your loss of empathic ability."

President Okmyx looks like he's about to say something in response to Onn, but then doesn't. He merely shrugs.

Three Crows moves the various Okmyx mooks to different tables, so they can't hear each other, or Onn. But Krako's men remain silent.

Nia rolls her eyes at the absurdly stubborn goon gang. Nothing pisses her off more than people inexplicably acting against their own interest. She whips out an order, not moving her gaze from Krako's team: "Three Crows, you can let the President's men go. Have a good night, boys."

Shaking her head, she examines the remaining prisoners. "Seriously? Your boss is gonna be in a Federation prison or he'll be given over to the President for dealing with. You really want that same fate, all due to your misplaced loyalty to Zabo--a guy who's left you and your boss in the lurch?"

Raising an eyebrow, she moves closer. "Maybe, being such fans of the Federation, you're just looking forward to seeing what getting transported to our ship via our magical science stuff is like. Well, let me explain how it works. First you'll be put into a sort of beam of light. You won't be able to move. Next, every little piece of your body that makes you you--they're called atoms--will be taken apart. Imagine a you-shaped jigsaw puzzle made up of microscopic... uh, sorry, teeny-tiny puzzle pieces. Then picture 'em all being blasted apart."

Nia smiles. "Then, if our science works the way it should--it usually does, but there've been exceptions, especially when dealing with races we don't have that much experience with--all those millions of jigsaw pieces are crammed back together up on our ship flying thousands of miles in the air. Ideally in the right configuration." She shrugs. "Although, as I said, there are exceptions. Sometimes the process doesn't work as hoped and we're left with a pile of goo. Or the pieces just..." Her hand opens up as if scattering dust into the air. "...Vanish into the big, empty vacuum of space."

After a pause, Nia's voice hardens. "So. Anyone with more working brain cells than the rest, who doesn't wanna make the ultimate sacrifice for a cowardly thug like Zabo, had better speak up now. You have five minutes." She pivots on a heel and walks up to Booker for a private tete-a-tete.

"Okay," she says softly, exhaling in frustration. "What am I doing wrong? Why are these guys being so freakishly obstinate? I refuse to believe they're that loyal to Krako, who they're never gonna see again, or Zabo, who's ditched them entirely. I usually don't have this much trouble getting men to do what I want." A tiny smile lightens her expression. "But maybe that's the problem--maybe you're more to their taste. Seriously, guys like this aren't used to taking orders from a woman. Could be that giving in to you will let them save face. Whatcha say, handsome? Help a girl out?"

Kylah looks at her hands, not really seeing them. Dr. T'Var does not think this is connected to her loss of empathic abilities, but Kylah is not so certain. Some of the tests her parents' private physician put her through had used clamps all along her spine and neck to locate, if possible, the source of these abnormal powers. The objective then was to use surgery to get rid of the malformation, but the doctor had determined that he could not do so with any certainty of maintaining Kylah's ability to walk--or talk, or even avoid brain damage.

Since that physician died long ago, Kylah knows her medical records are in her Guardian's hands. She has already violated her promise never to reveal her skills to anyone; she cannot ask him to allow T'Var to access her history.

Nerve damage. What has happened to me? She shakes her head, trying to come up with an explanation, but the answer is one she is afraid of considering: Darren Zweller. What little she remembers terrifies her. Some argument outside her quarters. Then they were inside. He grabbed her. She tried to use her communicator to get help. Then he held something against her and she...

"Oh..." She did not intend to speak aloud but the moan escapes her nonetheless. The memory of falling into Zweller's arms and being utterly, completely unable to move is too much to keep silent. Since the memory ends there, she focuses on what is most relevant. I dropped my communicator. And... the next time I saw it, it was damaged. Lifting her gaze to T'Var, Kylah hesitates before continuing. "There was... something happened to my communicator just before I lost my abilities. I took it to Mr. Delaney, and he said it was melted inside. As if from some electrical damage or..."

Kylah frowns, unable to remember what Delaney told her. She tries to come up with some explanation that avoids bringing up whatever Zweller did to her. "What if my communicator malfunctioned, had some sort of--electric shock, I suppose? If I was holding it at the time, could that cause nerve damage?"

Graham gives Kylah a small shrug and mumbles "well, I'll do my best."

He scowls, squares his shoulders, and stalks over the to assembled mooks. "OK, look, my job isn't to make friends, or do deals, or give anybody the fucking warm and fuzzies. It's to put assholes like your boss Krako away for a good goddamned long time when they fuck with the Federation."

He turns and gestures in a vague direction of where the prisoners were beamed up. "And you may have notice we snatched his ass up without him saying 'boo.'" He's done. Whatever your state of employment wa with Krako your next paycheck is worth precisely jack shit right now."

He pauses a moment, then punches a fist into an open hand. "And you know else is worth jack shit? Loyalty to Zabo. See the thing is, he can hide, maybe, maybe not he can hide from us for awhile. But as soon a he pops his head into the open, as soon as maybe he contacts anybody and suggests he can take Krako's place and give you a job in his new organization, we'll take him. He made his choice: he tried to kill a Federation officer. There's no going back from that."

He shrugs. "Any one of you who've been on our bad side..." he points in Nia's direction. "She's offered you a an alternative. Maybe she didn't mention we can set you up nice to make up for the paycheck you ain't gonna get from Krako or Zabo in the future. Maybe she didn't mention that if Okmyx wants to be a friend to the Federation, we can make it a point to say that we'll be checking in on the guys who cooperated with us to make sure they are OK in the future."

He pauses and spreads his hands. "Look, you guys didn't fuck up by being loyal soldiers. Your bosses fucked up by picking a 100% unwinnable, dumbass suicidal fight. And they're going to pay the price, one way or another. They let you down. There's no shame in looking out for your own after that."

Dr. T'Var frowns. "It is possible, I suppose, although I have never heard of that sort of injury. I will check the Starfleet Medical database later."

After Onn and Graham speak, some of Krako's men shift on their feet a little, and a few glances are exchanged among them, but none speak up, and none step forward.

"Thank you Lt. Morris, that is very kind of you and yes it has been a long day. I'm sure you will be looking to some well earned R&R."

Rangin reaches over and checks the tricorder has recorded everything correctly. "Just one last question, please excuse me for asking, but it has been requested. Just before events overtook matters, you sent a communique out, could you tell me who it was to?"

It's not like the USS Yorktown wouldn't be able to find out anyway, everything like that being recorded as a matter of course, but Rangin will do as requested, and if Lt. Morris complained then he can raise it with those higher up.

Morris crosses his arms. "It was to Lt. Cmdr. Hadley, my CO on the CAG. I wanted to congratulate him and the others for escaping and find out how they were doing. It was a short discussion, because Ens. Graham came and got me almost immediately."

"That makes perfect sense, I'm sure I would have done the same thing in your situation." Rangin responds amenably, before looking across to Lt. Garcia. "Any last questions?"

Garcia has some questions about CAG communications and security procedures, which Morris answers straightforwardly. "Can we go to the ship now?" he finally asks.

Nia listens to Booker in amusement and curiosity at seeing him go to town on these idiots. When he refers to Zabo as the one who tried to shoot her, she automatically opens her mouth, but clamps it shut immediately. She'll wait on correcting him in private. The outrage works better if Zabo's seen as more of a danger, anyway.

But the gangsters' continued stubbornness wipes away her last shred of patience. Seht'Dar's Fiery Balls, I don't care what Singh said, these imbeciles need a good scare.

She strides up to Booker and takes him aside, pulling him in for a whisper in his ear. "Call me stubborn, but I do not wanna go back on my threat to beam these little shits up for questioning. Talking to them separately in an unfamiliar environment might get some info on Zabo's hideouts, and I honestly don't trust Okmyx's men to find that slippery bastard. We can make a case for these guys being more culpable than the rest, right? It'd give me a little extra pleasure to dismiss Cledd's guys in front of them too."

Kylah thanks Dr. T'Var softly, then lowers her gaze away from the older woman. It is not easy to lie to someone as forthright and kind as T'Var, when she has helped Kylah so much. "Perhaps Mr. Delaney will know if any such malfunctions have occurred, or..." She searches her mind for another option. "Or I can research myself to see if this is a known problem with that communicator model."

With a sigh, she lies back on the pillow, afraid to learn more about what really happened to her, sickened by the dread of not knowing, and uncomfortable at the realization that she must reveal yet another injury to her uncle. And I have not yet heard back from him after writing about Anubis. He will be so angry...

She feels a wave of exhaustion at all these thoughts. "Doctor," she says, her voice weak, "how long will I need to stay here? I think I have spent more time in Sickbay than in my quarters."

Graham chuckles softly, careful to keep his face out of view of the goons. "Well getting them alone is itself a good idea. Nobody may want to be the rat in front of their buddies, but in private...if he bring 'em up, speak to 'em one on one, and return them all later, perferably to separate locations, anybody who rolls over has plausible deniability."

He shrugs. "We can take them one by one into a side room, beam 'em up, and hold them on ice till we talk to them all. Shouldn't take long. Say it's standard procedure for processing and releasing suspects."

"Sounds like a plan," Nia says, her smile evident in her voice. After a few seconds' thought, she second-guesses herself on allowing Cledd's team to leave. "Mull over whether we should nab any of Cledd's people. Singh said to release anyone who was just following orders, and I know space in the Brig isn't infinite. But... I don't know. That's really a call for someone with way more Security experience than me. Maybe you and your folks can talk it over?"

Then she steps back soberly and turns to Krako's goons. "All right. You're going into custody. Enjoy having your atoms taken apart for the first time." She then moves to explain Booker's plan to the Security officers still present, and asks them to notify Chief Nguyen, take each suspect off and beam them up. Privately and quietly, she adds: "If there's room to put them in separate cells, let's do that. I wanna prevent the group from boosting one another's team spirit."

She moves to Okmyx. "Mr. President. Are you ready to beam aboard now?" Then she lifts an eyebrow at Graham. "Or is there anything else left to accomplish here that I'm forgetting?" Her gaze casts around the room, making sure everyone is accounted for. Right. Rangin and Morris. Nia makes a mental not to talk with Rangin and get the results of the interview.

Dr. T'Var thinks a moment and says to Kylah, "I'd prefer to keep you for observation overnight, but if you really would prefer to rest in your quarters, I'll allow it if you wear a medical monitor strip. I don't want you on duty for at least 24 hours, however."

President Bela Okmyx actually looks excited. "Yeah, sure! I've been wanting to have a peek at one of your fancy spaceships. Why should Krako have all the fun, huh?"

Three Crows and Mahmoud acknowledge Onn's orders; Nguyen and Security personnel are soon ready on the Yorktown.

Kylah tries to picture getting up and returning to her quarters right now; the thought seems overwhelming. But she does not want to stay, either. She nods to the doctor. "Yes, please, I will wear the monitor. Thank you, Dr. T'Var."

Dr. T'Var nods, leaves, and shortly returns with the familiar, flexible, adhesive matte-black plastic strip that will keep Sickbay posted on Kylah's biosigns. She places it across Kylah's abdomen and helps her get dressed. She then asks a Medical orderly to walk the Elasian officer to her quarters and ensure that she's settled in all right.

"Ready when you are, Ensign," the young woman says.

Despite herself, Nia can't help appreciating Okmyx's level of excitement for something she herself holds so dear. "It's pretty special," she says with a grin. "It's too bad you can't see the ship from the outside, but her interior's impressive too. And that first glimpse of your own planet will be something else. Just a minute more to make sure we have this situation cleared, and we'll get going."

She pulls out her communicator from her bag, preparing to contact Rangin, but looking down at the beaded purse sparks a little memory. "Landing party members, those of you who have a free moment, let's check that all our equipment and belongings are accounted for. I overheard Kylah mention something about a purse and her phaser... maybe that was part of a bluff, I don't know. If not, we need it back. Might've already been taken care of, but..."

Ending with a shrug, she lifts the communicator. "Onn to Rangin. When you've finished up, report back here and we'll beam up as a team. Unless you need more time, for any reason...?" While she speaks, she watches Booker with interest to see what he ends up deciding about the Cledd gang.

Kylah nods and thanks T'Var one more time. She moves slowly to join the orderly. "I appreciate your help. May I ask your name?" A sigh escapes her, and she purses her lips in recrimination. "I should know all of you by now, given my record. I am sorry."

Rawlings has already taken an inventory of the Starfleet gear. "All present and accounted for, ma'am," he tells Onn with a grin. "And if I may say so, it was smart of you to check, given the Enterprise's experience here."

"Orderly/3 Dina Billingsley," the young woman in blue says. "And no apology necessary, ma'am." She is Human, with dark hair, a broad, friendly face and a spray of freckles across her nose.

"Let me check, Sir," Rangin replies to Lt. Morris sensing the impatience that seems to be brewing. It looks like Graham had gotten to someone else and Rangin could feel a little sympathy for him as he had appeared to be honest in his answers. Besides, Rangin's starts thinking more on what happened to Ens. Kylah than about Lt Morris and the interview. It seems that Dr T'Var had things in hand, but he had not had the chance to find out for sure what had happened.

However, just as he is reaching down for the communicator, it goes off and he finds himself listening to Lt. Onn. "No ma'am, nothing else here, we will be down shortly," he responds to her question, "Rangin out."

He looks back across at Morris and Garcia. "We have been asked to report back as they are starting to transport back to the ship." He stands up and gestures to the door, "After you, Sir." he addresses Lt Morris.

"Finally," Morris mutters as he rises from his seat and heads for the door. He adds in a more conversational tone, "Thank you, Ensign." Rangin goes back downstairs with him and Garcia, and returns to the main ballroom. Onn, Graham and the others are there, as well as, you see, many fewer Iotians than before.

Graham calls Three Crows and Mahmoud aside."Ok, here's what we're going to do. Find a room off here--preferably one with no other exit. We walk each of these goons in, one by one, to be beamed up for, uh, processing...and release. As I see it, under Federation--not necesarily local, I'm not sure--law any one of these goons could make a big deal about whether or not they are really free to go, but in the absence of that kind of speicifc appeal I think we can run with taking them upstairs to ask a few questions." He pauses a moment. "While we're in the process of beaming these guys up and holding them, let's have somebody offer them coffee, a snack or something in the brig...stress 'em out a bit, then show the softer side."

He exhales deeply. "Maybe that'll get one of them to give us some info when they can do it in private."

Nia winks at Rawlings. "Hey, if I can't out-think one of those Enterprise slackers..." She pauses in thought. "Although now I'm wondering if all the extra phasers and other tech that Krako seems to have stolen are accounted for. There should be enough to match up with the CAG folks. And speaking of the CAG..."

Her hand lifts her communicator again. "Onn to Cmdr. Vargas. Sir, it just struck me that the CAG building is currently open and unguarded, unless I'm miscalculating. If we'll be in orbit here for a few hours or longer, I think it might be prudent to put a guard on the house until we either clean it out or the CAG return--assuming they're willing. Recommendations?"

Three Crows and Mahmoud understand and carry out their orders. Soon all of the remaining Iotians not in President Okmyx's entourage have been beamed up to the Yorktown under guard.

Vargas says to Onn, "Probably a good idea. Did you want to send a detail from there, or have us beam down a small Security team from here?"

Nia frowns at the relatively empty room, wondering if she missed what happened to Cledd's gangsters while she was occupied speaking with Rawlings and Vargas. "I think a few from the team here, sir. Most of the Security officers haven't been here long and don't need to be relieved." She eyes Booker and, though her face remains neutral, enjoys the rear view. "I'll confer with Ensign Graham on where to place the detail, since he's been to the building and I haven't. Once that's taken care of, we'll be beaming up with the President, unless you or the Captain have any further suggestions."

If Vargas signs off on the plan, Nia will head over to Booker and ask his opinion regarding whom to leave behind.

Kylah, glad to be back in her uniform, begins her walk carefully. She starts to thank Billingsley when she realizes that she cannot recall the correct form of address to an orderly. Since she also has a cultural distaste for using "Mr." for women, she thinks of a possible workaround.

"Thank you... and please, call me Kylah," she adds. Hopefully, she will receive a similar invitation that will help her avoid the embarrassing memory slip.

Vargas says, "That will be fine. Carry on, Lieutenant. Vargas out."

"Thank you... Kylah," the orderly says, smiling warmly. "And you're welcome to call me Dina." The two leave Sickbay together.

Rangin waits until Lt.Onn is more or less free, before excusing himself from Morris and Garcia, and walks over to her to report.

"Ma'am, I hope I am not interrupting, I thought you would be interested in what Lt Morris had to say, which was actually little to nothing further on what he has already said. His communicator call was to the head of the CAG," Rangin informs the officer in charge.

"...So you Security guys decide how many officers to leave at the CAG building, and who. Okay?"

Nia's just finished asking Booker to make the decision when she senses Rangin beside her. His brief report isn't elucidating, but obviously there's not much to be squeezed from Morris.

"Good. Thanks, Rangin. Kind of a shame, really; it'd tie some things in nicely together if he had a link to Krako. I guess we should get a confirmation from the head CAG guy that Morris contacted him. Of course," she murmurs, casting a look at Booker before returning to Rangin, "he could've contacted the CAG as an alibi and given Krako a heads-up... if he had enough time. But short of confiscating his communicator, asking Thalen or Garcia to snoop on his transmissions, or Krako turning on him, we're kinda stuck. Especially since Krako would have to admit his part of the conspiracy, and that doesn't seem likely."

She exhales, tired. "Listen to me. I'm probably just seeing conspiracies where there are none. Well, I appreciate your efforts, Ensign. Let me catch you up a bit."

She fills him in on her attempt to get the Krako goons to give up Zabo. "...And so we've taken them into custody, hoping they'll be more likely to squeal if they're separated. But who knows. Anyway, Krako, Yeg and Cledd are on the ship. I'm about to arrange for a detail to watch over the CAG building. I've made sure we haven't left any tech behind, though there's always the possibility that Krako stole more from the CAG than we know. Otherwise... I think that's everything."

Nia's head tilts down so she can look him in the eyes. "What do you think, Rangin? Anything I've missed? You were here longer, you might have a better idea of the overall. You too, Graham," she says, conscious of how bizarre it is to involve these particular men in a collegial powwow.

"If Lt. Morris did contact Krako then it is likely that Krako also has a communicator. Perhaps if would be worth checking to see if he has anything else Federation related that he should not have?" Rangin calmly looks back up at Lt. Onn. "If he is in possession of several items he should not be, then the question becomes not only how did he get them but who supplied him."

"When we first met him, Krako was very happy to meet us. It’s quite possible he has engineered the whole thing to gain favour with us with or without any assistance."

Graham's not sure what rock Rangin's been hiding under while everything has been going done, but fundamentally he's grateful not to have had to deal with his snide bullshit. Seeing Rangin reminds him of the fact that Kylah's in Sick Bay--for god's sake, hopefully OK...

He doesn't wait for Rangin to respond. "Faisal's solid, I'll ask him to pick a Security officer and perhaps more important to get some technical help from Yorktown securing the building as its security has been compromised, uh...ma'am," he says to Nia, giving her a slight smile if he can manage to catch her eye.

If not otherwise interrupted, he finds Mahmoud. "CAG HQ's physical security measures have been compromised. Pick another Security officer, beam over there, and get some technical staff from the ship to put stronger protections in place...keep an eye on things while they do."

Mahmoud nods. "OK, will do." He turns to one of the Security ratings and says, "O'Neill, come on, you're with me. Duty calls." He takes out his communicator, calls the Yorktown, and they soon are beamed away.

Kylah and Billingsley slowly reach the Elasian's woman's quarters. Kylah feels exhausted by the trip, although it was not all that far afoot. Collins is not there, of course, as she is still in Sickbay.

At Rangin's suggestions, Nia tilts her head, then gives a wry chuckle. "Of course--Krako must have a communicator. I'm embarrassed to say I didn't even think of that, and I was literally just asking Rawlings whether we'd confiscated all the Federation tech from the Krako crew. Good call there, Mr. Rangin. As for where they got the phasers and so on, I'm assuming they stole them from the hostages. So I guess--"

Nia's eyes widen, and then she gives a slow smile. "The hostages," she repeats, much more quietly. "Rangin, you had them beamed directly from where they were being held, right? Their belongings certainly weren't with them. Their captors had everything. Do you see where I'm heading?" She makes sure her back is to Morris and only Rangin can hear her--although she wishes Booker were still with them.

"Morris sent that message before Krako showed up. He knew we hadn't taken anyone into custody yet--the captors still had the CAG's communicators. So if he sent a message to the CAG leader's device, it would've gone to whoever was actually in possession of it. How much you wanna bet that Krako took Hadley's communicator for himself? Maybe Morris knew that. I mean, he had to know Hadley wouldn't have his communicator yet, right? They're all being debriefed, they won't have been reassigned new gadgets yet.

"So... assuming Krako had control of Hadley's device, if we take a look at the messages sent and received since the hostages were first captured, maybe we'll find some interesting info there. What do you think?"

Kylah sees that her quarters are empty, and briefly wonders if Collins is still on the planet. She is glad to be alone for now; she is not certain what her roommate will say about her having been injured yet again. Their relationship has improved somewhat, but Kylah does not believe they are on firm ground yet.

"Thank you very much, Dana," she says, sinking onto her bed and looking up at the orderly with a wan smile. "I wish you a good evening. And a quiet one--hopefully there will be no more casualties from the landing party."

Rangin watches Graham with distaste as he barks out some orders and generally being his usual impolite self. Then again he was probably responsible for not protecting Ens. Kylah and Graham will promptly take that out on anyone else.

Rangin shakes his head half in anger,half in disgust before returning back to the pont. "Yes ma'am, I do follow what you mean and given that they have been in the hands of people who may misuse them, if would make a lot of sense to see what they used them for. It might be worth hetting a more accurate inventory of Federation equipment and trying to account for all of it."

"The only thing I would urge caution on is any presumed guilt or innocence. Let the facts speak first." Rangin casts a side glance at Graham, who by now would have had thumbscrews out with gleeful abandon and let justice go hang.

Rangin lets the silence last a beat or two before squaring up and looking directly at Lt. Onn. "If it is acceptable to ask and as you were here at the time ma'am. What did happen to Ens. Kylah?"

Graham's about to get on with figuring out which Security personnel are needed to wrap things up in the club versus accompany Okmyx versus question the goons they beamed up--all with Nia's OK, of course--when he hears Rangin ask what happened to Kylah.

He certainly knows, but he doesn't know her current condition (and has been trying not to think about it...). He freezes, listening silently to hear Onn's reply.

Nia puts her hands on her hips, listening to Rangin. She's about to react to the implication that she's presuming anyone guilty when he brings up Kylah. Not surprisingly, Booker is suddenly rapt with attention. "All I've heard from Dr. T'Var is that her injury wasn't life-threatening. Doesn't mean it wasn't bad, but it sounds like she'll be all right. Probably sleeping by now, or maybe getting debriefed, depending on how well she's recovering." Nia glances over at Booker. "Vargas will probably want to interview her, given how much she seemed to know about Krako and Cledd's relationship. Which makes me wonder--"

She pauses, about to ask whether it was possible Kylah heard something private between the two, given how the perpetual damsel-in-distress managed to get herself stuck in a ridiculously vulnerable situation yet again. Mmm, no. Better rephrase unless you want these guys to start something.

Needing a second, she holds a finger in the air and calls out to Garcia. "Garcia, can you search the stuff we confiscated from Krako and his boys and dig out the communicators? We'll want to secure them and check their usage during the past week. Thanks."

Then she returns to the two men who'd probably rather eat those communicators rather than stand next to each other. "Sorry. Uh, as I was about to say... I noticed that she successfully positioned herself close to the major players during that confrontation. You were there before us, Graham. Any chance she witnessed or heard something that we couldn't hear over the communicator?"

Graham squeezes his eyes shut for a moment and tales a deep breath.

"A bit chance, Ni-- uh, ma'am," Graham replies. "Ens. Kylah...I wish'd we'd had stronger security procedures in place, for which I take equal responsibility. But all things considered, as a communications officer, she took initiative to, uh, get in the faces of the principal players, here, so to speak, and as far as I can tell shook them up and shook loose the scheming going on between, I think, Krako and Cledd and Yegg."

He shakes his head. "I couldn't hear a lot of detail. Don't think the communicator picked it up, either."

He pauses briefly, then realizes the implication is that someone among this group should speak with her... "Lieutenant, seeing as I...well shit, goddammit, I stunned her, I'd like to check on her well-being now. I could follow up on this as well."

The variety of emotions washing over Booker's face twist Nia's heart a little. She doesn't like seeing him this concerned or remorseful. Then again, she probably wouldn't be drawn to him as much if he didn't react this way.

"Of course you can check on her, if the doctors say she's up for it. But..." She softens her voice before continuing, because she doubts Booker needs to be reminded of this--or at least, he wouldn't if he weren't so emotionally involved here. "...But of course, debriefing needs to be done by an objective party, someone who wasn't on the mission. My guess is she'll have to deal with Vargas, maybe the Captain or Thalen if she's lucky. If she wants you to be there... I mean... for support or whatever..."

She suddenly realizes that while Booker's made his protective instincts toward Kylah pretty obvious, Nia has no idea whether the Elasian appreciates how lucky she is to have Booker looking out for her. Someone with her royal background probably takes such protection for granted.

Which would explain why she's so frickin' hapless. Girl probably thinks if she steps off a cliff, a dozen servants will magically appear to build a walkway right under her feet.

"...You can ask and see, is what I'm saying," she concludes, smiling briefly. Rangin's presence is inhibiting her natural instincts. With a friendly look at him, she tilts her head. "C'mon, gentlemen. Might as well beam up together." She makes sure Garcia has the communicator situation well in hand, murmurs to Three Crows and Double-T to stick near the President, Kalo and Morris, and walks up to join Okmyx. "We're ready now, Mr. President. Sorry for the delay."

She gives a last look around the ballroom and asks her remaining crew if they're all ready. If no one holds her off, she'll contact the Yorktown and ask for a beam-out, in groups of six to different transporter rooms if necessary.

"It's actually 'Dina,'" the orderly says to Kylah, "and you're welcome. If you need anything else, just call. Get some rest and I'll check on you later." She leaves.

President Okmyx is still in a good mood. "Hey, no problem, sweetheart! Ready when you are."

Everyone is soon ready to go. All of the remaining Yorktown personnel plus Okmyx, Kalo and Morris beam up in groups of six. Onn, Graham and Rangin find themselves in Transporter Room 1; Chief Nguyen is behind the transporter control console. Okmyx, Kalo and Morris, and Three Crows and Rawlings are there, too. Garcia gets a carryall for the communicators and excuses himself to take them to the Communications lab.

Morris tells Nguyen, "I'd like to see the other CAG members. Do you know where they are?"

Nguyen says, "Resting in guest quarters, I believe, sir."

Once on the ship, Graham nods to Nia and Okmyx. "If you'll excuse me for the moment, ma'am, Mr. President, I have some matters to attend to."

If not otherwise interrupted he heads to Sickbay and asks to see Ens. Kylah.

Kylah flushes at having misunderstood the orderly's name, but the other woman has left before she can apologize. After a few moments of just sitting in silence, she notices the aching emptiness in her stomach--she cannot remember when she last ate. She is too exhausted to walk to the Mess, or even any of the rec room areas with a replicator. Slowly she gets to her feet again and walks to the bathroom for a glass of water. Perhaps slaking her thirst will also help her hunger.

As she sips, she returns to the room and just stands there. Ideally she would get undressed and crawl into bed. But she cannot think of sleeping with the rest of her crewmates on the planet. I hope they will tell me when everyone is back safely.

Then she remembers that she has no communicator. Again. It will undoubtedly be returned to her, assuming Dr. T'Var was right and the situation in the ballroom is under control. But she feels bereft without the device. And yet again, the irony of being a Communications Officer who cannot seem able to hold on to her communicator is not lost on her.

Her thoughts turn to her old damaged communicator and the new disturbing discovery T'Var made regarding the nerve damage to her spinal cord. It cannot be a coincidence that her communicator was 'melted,' her nerves damaged, her memories vanished and her mental capabilities blocked all during the same time period--right after Darren Zweller was in her quarters.

Kylah backs up until she finds the edge of her bed, sitting down once again. He pushed his way in, she thinks, staring at the door. I tried to stop him, I know I did. Then I... I meant to call for help. I had the communicator. But... what happened then?

The memory of Darren Zweller rushing toward her swiftly morphs into Krako running toward her; she cannot divorce the two. Perspiration beads on her forehead and she closes her eyes. She cannot dwell on such things or she will go mad. Her hands cradle the glass and lift it to her lips. All she focuses on is the cool water and the sounds of the Yorktown that form a sort of white noise in the background; Kylah does not allow herself to think about anything else.

Booker moves so quickly from the transporter pad that by the time Nia remembers to warn him, it is too late. She looks at him regretfully. She should've pulled him aside to let him know about Collins. Even when all the security officers were gathered in the ballroom, he didn't seem to notice that his mentee wasn't there. Well. He'll find out soon enough. And maybe it's nothing serious.

Nia is surprised that neither the Captain nor Vargas is here to greet President Okmyx. Hoping the Iotian isn't offended, she gestures for him to step off the transporter pad before her, then follows suit. "Welcome to the Yorktown, Mr. President," she says easily. "I hope your journey was smooth. You have Chief Nguyen here to thank for that."

She herself grins at Nguyen. "Actually, I'll thank you first, Chief. You and your crew performed a pretty intricate number of operations during this mission. I'm extremely grateful for all your help. Can you do me one more favor? Can you please inform Captain Singh and Cmdr. Vargas that President Okmyx has arrived, and ask where they wish me to escort him? I'd do it myself but I need to get in touch with the crew still planetside."

She turns to Okmyx. "Feel free to look around the room if you like. I'll be with you in just a second." With a flip of her wrist, she opens her communicator. "Onn to Mahmoud. Can you confirm you're in position and that everything's clear down there? I'd like you to check in every thirty minutes, please. And if you need a bigger detail, don't hesitate to ask."

Morris says, "Thanks, Chief," and leaves.

Graham soon makes his way to Sickbay, where he's told that Kylah has been released to return to her quarters.

The young Elasian woman feels a little better after a glass of cold water. She may call Sickbay or the nearest mess hall for a meal to be brought to her, if she wishes.

Nguyen calls the First Officer, who says, "Please have President Okmyx brought to Conference Room 1."

Mahmoud reports from the CAG safe house below, "We've searched the house to make sure no one else is here, and changed the codes on all the locks. Everything's fine now; don't think we need any additional personnel. And yes, ma'am, I'll check in every 30 minutes."

Graham's gratified to hear Kylah's been released...good sign.

He heads to Kylah's quarters (and, if he arrives there, righs at the door).

Along the realizes Collins wasn't around once Rangin re-appeared, and frowns slightly when he realizes she wasn't on-scene at the club--did Rangin have her off doing something else, or what?

He makes a mental note to give her a buzz as soon as he has the chance.

Scowling at Morris's quick departure, Nia thanks Mahmoud and ends the communication. She moves closer to Three Crows and says quietly, "Maybe follow Morris at a discreet distance? Kinda like to know just where the hell he thinks he's going without an escort."

Next, she turns to the Transporter Chief with a nod before Nguyen needs to share Vargas's order. "I know. Heard him loud and clear, thanks, Chief." Her attention slips over to Rangin. "Not sure what you want to do before we all meet for the inevitable debriefing. If you'd like to join me in bringing our guests to Cmdr. Vargas, you're more than welcome. You were an integral part of the mission longer than I was, so your take will be useful. Or if you need to get something to eat or drink, or... whatever... that's up to you."

Inhaling deeply, Nia takes a moment to thank all the personnel present who were down on the planet under her command. Then she sweeps her arm out toward the corridor. "President Okmyx? Our First Officer will be honored to meet you. And you too, Mr. Kalo." She'll follow them out and then lead the way to Conference Room 1.

As Kylah tries to work up the energy to turn on her terminal to get in touch with the Mess, the electronic ring of her door startles her out of her trance. She nearly says "Come in" when another flash of Darren's face haunts her.

Darren Zweller is, of course, no longer on the ship. But Mark Ferguson is still on board--and by now she has no idea who else might be one of Zweller's cohorts.

Rising and clutching her glass as if it is a weapon, she draws nearer. "Who is there?" she says, her voice more anxious and defensive than she realizes.

Three Crows raises her eyebrows and says, "Uh... OK, Lieutenant. Kind of hard to avoid being noticed following someone on a starship, but I'll do my best." She leaves.

"Thanks, dollface," Okmyx says to Onn. He appears very interested in seeing all of the Starfleet personnel in the corridors, including the occasional uniformed alien; Kalo, however, seems ill-at-ease. Rawlings comes along, too, keeping an eye on the Iotians. The Captain and First Officer politely greet the Iotian leader and his aide in Conference Room 1, under the famous painting of Cornwallis's 1781 surrender to Washington.

Graham can hear Kylah clearly through the door.

After introducing everyone and waiting for the initial pleasantries to subside, Nia mentally shakes her head at Three Crows. 'Hard to follow someone on a ship' my ass. Walk a few yards back staring intently at your tricorder and pretend you're just casually going the same way. Did someone skip her 'Basic Sneaking-Around Skills for Security Drones' class?

She remains at attention, waiting to be invited to sit down or to be dismissed--she's not sure which way Singh wants to run this show. Normally she'd assume she'd be mandatory, considering she was the nominal mission leader at least part of the time. But the truth is, the people who spent the most time with Okmyx are Booker, T'Var and Kylah--and none of them are here.

Hope Kylah's all right. I should check on her myself... She suspects Graham prefers to be alone with the girl. And since Nia had almost no interactions with Kylah, she's not sure whether she'd be of any comfort. Still, the young officer was brutally stabbed while under Nia's command, and that's not something Nia can brush aside. The sight of all that blood, Kylah's helplessness as that psycho grabbed at her, and the look on Booker's face are all permanently imprinted in her mind.

It's all she can do to focus on the here and now. When there's a natural break in the conversation, she asks, "Pardon me, Captain. I'm sure President Okmyx will ask himself, but I'm curious as well: are Cledd Okmyx and Mr. Krako currently assisting our investigation?" There are imaginary quote marks around the last few words. She doesn't want to use the term 'interrogation' but, well, that's what this boils down to.

The Captain glances at the First Officer and Chief of Security and says, "Mr. Krako is, but I understand the younger Mr. Okmyx is not, at least for the moment."

Singh, Vargas and the President chat politely for awhile. Kalo remains silent.

With the rest of the people meither giving their excuses or dealing with the Peresident's party, Rangin feels a little like a third wheel and it is easy enough for him to step out unnoticed by all and sundry. At least no-one appears to be paying him any attention and Lt. Onn is in charge of everything now, he's just some science guy along for the ride.

But that still doesn't stop him wondering a few things, like why Lt. Onn didn't actually say what had happened to Ens. Kylah, just that she was in care. Had Graham really been so careless in protecting her that she had been that badly injured. And then there was Lt. Collins, who had had to return as well. If anything Rangin worries more about her and heads along to Sickbay to find out what the current situation with both is. He can't help it, he was leading the party at the time, whereas Lt. Onn was in charge when Kylah was injured.

As he walks along, he wonders if leading a team is always like this.

Rangin finds his way to Sickbay. Dr. Villa greets him with a smile and, when asked, says that Lt. JG Collins is still in Sickbay, resting and not to be disturbed. Ens. Kylah, however, has been discharged and is, last the Chief Medical Officer heard, in her quarters. Both are expected to make complete recoveries.

Graham clears his throat. "It's, uh, Ens. Graham...I mean, well, me. I was- uh, I wanted to see how you were doing."

He pauses a moment. "Seeing as I shot you and all."

* * *

Kylah's mouth parts and she slowly walks forward, pressing the control that slides the door open manually. Mr. Graham is indeed there. He looks tired and worried. Her gaze scans him for any sign of injury before she speaks. "You are back," she exhales, though of course it is stating the obvious.

Still holding onto the glass, she backs into the room. "Please come in," she mutters. She keeps looking at him. "Then... then is it all over? Was anyone hurt? Is everything..." Slowly what he said to her sinks in. "You did not mean to shoot me. You stunned Krako. I was in the way. I am always in the way," she mutters. But she shakes her head, not wanting to change the subject. "Thank you, Mr. Graham. If he had not been stunned... he would have kept going. I might be dead."

Her free hand reaches out tentatively to touch his sleeve as she repeats a fervent "Thank you."

* * *

"You don't need..." Graham's somewhat taken aback by her response.

He takes a deep breath, and gently takes her extended hand between both of his.

He shakes his head slowly and speaks softly, not, for whatever reason, comfortable meeting her eyes at the moment.

"Security isn't your job. You did a--a great job as a comms officer, drawing Cledd and Krako out. I wish I--No, I should have put better protocols in place, controlled the situation...that's my job." He takes another breath and looks back at her, directly.

"But I am glad you'e OK--I mean, are you OK?" he asks.

* * *

Even now, with Kylah's trust for Mr. Graham, her raw instinct is to pull free from his grasp and stare at the open door for an escape. But her fingers only twitch slightly before she controls herself. She sets the glass down clumsily on her dresser--some spills due to her trembling--so she can cover his hand with her own.

"I am as... okay... as I can be. My shoulder and arm are sore, but healed. I am tired, though. And hungry. But mostly I am just..." She bites her lip and tries to meet Mr. Graham's gaze, but it is elusive. "I am ashamed," she finishes. "My emotions were everywhere, not the way a Starfleet officer should be. After everyone reports, Cmdr. Vargas and the Captain will know how unprofessional I was.

"You know it, sir. You know it was my fault things suddenly escalated as they did. I put everyone in jeopardy. Myself included, but worse, the rest of you, who were not out of control. You. Dr. T'Var, Lt. Morris... even Lt. Onn..." Kylah frowns, just remembering now that the other woman was there. Why? She shakes her head in confusion. "All those gunmen around us, we were outnumbered and you could have been killed. Instead you saved me, and you are still trying to protect me by being kind."

Weary, she suddenly bends her head and rests her cheek against his large, warm hand. "It is Elasian custom," she says softly, closing her eyes. "One owes a life-debt to someone who has saved you. I cannot repay all you have given me, but I will try. I will do what you ask."

* * *

She hates me, but she's so tired..

Lizzy finally falls asleep, lets her head fall against his hands, her check against his them..

Will my scars, callouses, scrape those gentle cheeks....

But he doesn't dare move.

Let her sleep if I have to sit here all night...

"Ah...." Graham is frozen still. "No , there's no...I was--am--going to put in a commendation for your initiative, it's...Well, right now it doesn't matter."

He clears his throat. "Look, far be it from me to buck Elasian custom, deserved or not...I ask--I ask that whatever else is going on, I ask that you trust that I want to--that you can trust me. I guess you have reasons otherwise, and I know you can't read my mind to prove it, but...

"You said you had no choice but to go things alone. Don't do that, OK?"

* * *

A commendation? He is mocking her, surely. She lifts her face, little by little, to stare up at him as he speaks. And of course she gets a jolt with his words "I know you can't read my mind"... Her cheeks burn and at once she straightens like a soldier, widening her eyes to take him in while stretching her focus to encompass his emotions as well. She cannot help it, it is instinctive; defensive; strategic.

And so she knows he speaks in dead earnest.

She tears her gaze from him and looks down. "I will try," she whispers. "I believe... somehow I believe you wish what is best for me. I have not known that feeling before. Not without being proven wrong." Her fingers tighten around his, dwarfed and feeling his rough skin but gentle touch around hers. "It is frightening to trust again, after being so wrong. You understand that, I think."

* * *

"Being wrong?" Graham replies quietly. "Yes, I understand that really well."

Momentarily his gaze is far away, but he keeps his mind on the present.

"Uh, look," he says, clearing his throat. "I didn't mean to disturb you if you were trying to rest...is there anything you need? Anything I can get for you?"

* * *

Kylah can feel his concentration wavering. Something is discomfiting him. "No. You have given me enough. Although..." She glances down at the water, then back at him. "There is one thing. I would like to eat, but do not wish to ask someone to serve me a meal in my quarters. Much of the ship already believes me to be a spoiled princess. Yet I would rather not walk to the Mess alone. I am still physically drained, and besides, I might run into..."

Her lips shut tight for a second, and she curses herself for nearly uttering names. Instead she changes course. "That is... I might run into difficulty walking. Would you come with me? If you have other plans I understand," she adds hurriedly.

* * *

"I may have to talk to some Iotian goons, but they can stew for a few minutes," Graham replies, smiling slightly. "Just give the word if you need a hand," he adds.

* * *

With a small smile of thanks in return, Kylah starts to the door, then gives a quick, automatic brush of her hair. She would like to look in a mirror, but after the thought floats through her mind, she realizes she does not have the energy to make the effort. Besides, she cannot keep Mr. Graham waiting out of vanity.

Once she enters the corridor she gives a quick, furtive glance in both directions, hoping no one is around. Then she waits for Mr. Graham, and together they begin toward the nearest Mess.



Graham by general_urko, Kylah by me.

Nia listens to the inanity for as long as she can tolerate it. Finally, again waiting for a break in the chat, she shifts her weight from her left to her right leg, with her arms resting on her hips. "I beg your pardon again, Captain. Mr. President. Mr. Kalo." She focuses on Vargas. "Commander, permission to speak with you privately?"

Vargas says, "Of course, Lieutenant," and steps out into the corridor with Onn.

Nia takes a few paces from the door, waits until it's closed, and turns to face the First Officer with her hands clasped behind her back.

"Commander," she says in a measured, low tone. "I understand that it's important to keep relations cordial with a planetary leader. But if you don't mind my asking..."

She hesitates and only continues after working out the least offensive way to ask the question. "If it's not being too presumptuous, may I ask what strategy is being employed here? The president's son is one of the parties guilty of kidnapping the hostages we were sent down there to find. Why isn't Cledd Okmyx being questioned? Why aren't we asking President Okmyx to get Cledd to talk? Most of all, why is the entire landing party, especially those of us who were down there the longest, being left to our own devices instead of being debriefed as soon as possible to aid in the investigation?"

Nia takes a deep, calming breath. "Sorry for being so impatient. It's just that two of our officers were nearly killed in the line of duty; one was under my command at the time. So I'm sure you understand my vested interest in and urgent need to see this mission successfully completed."

Graham and Kylah make their way to the nearest mess hall. It is not crowded.

Vargas says to Onn, unruffled, "I don't mind, Lieutenant. Cledd is being questioned by Lt. Jones, but has not been cooperative. Krako has had much more to say to Ens. St. Croix. The Captain thought that making nice with the President was good for reasons of diplomacy, as you suggest, and also because he might be more willing to help persuade his son to talk. I understand from Mr. Three Crows, though, that Cledd does not exactly dote on his dear old dad, and our leverage on him is limited. All of the landing party members will be debriefed in due course."

Graham clears his throat. "So, if you fee well enough to uh, dig into this, there was a bunch of conversation I couldn't hear planet side. Did you draw anything out of Cledd or Krako that I should know?," he says to Kylah.

Rangin thanks the Medical Staff for the update and ask if they can let him know when Collins does awake. He considers what to do next or more specifically what he should do about Kylah.

He considers that she will be fine, although for her that could mean any number of things, but heading to her room, no that's not something he can do, not after what last happened there between them.

It doesn't leave much else, probably debriefing later on when they get round to it, which guides his actions. He pats the tricorder at his side and heads off to sort out his notes for later on while everything is still fresh in his memory. At least with Kylah in her quarters, he can go to the mess hall without bumping into her.

He heads off and the closer he gets the hungrier he feels and a weary feeling settles over him, as the worries and stress of the away mission start to fade away. A cup of coffee would do fine and as he gets there he just heads straight across to the replicators to pick it up along with a light snack, the thought of it giving him tunnel vision.

Having grabbed his coffee, Rangin looks round the Mess Hall to find a clear table and see both Kylah and Graham together talking away and if they had seen him they are giving no notice. It would be oh so easy to just walk away, leave them to it, ignore them, but he still wants to to confirm to himself she is ok after what happened. It's one thing for a medic, it's another given that Kylah can't help but get injured every time she walks off ship.

He walks up to them, the coffee and snack out front and between, a small barrier of sorts, but enough to keep Graham just that little further back.

Stopping next to them, and frankly unconcerned whether or not they saw him coming, Rangin clears his throat to, more obviously, attract their attention. "Ens. Kylah, I heard what happened down on the planet, I just wanted to find out if you are ok?"

Kylah is unsure how to respond to Mr. Graham's question. Did she draw something from Cledd or Krako? She can say 'yes' and be truthful, but not the sort of truth that she could ever repeat without either Cledd or Krako denying it vociferously. And their denials would also be true.

"If you mean other than Mr. Krako's attempt to murder me," she says, not even intending to be humorous--as she rarely is--but she does realize how absurd the question is. "Then there was nothing overt. I just... intuited how things were between them. There was too much smugness from Krako in his accusation of collusion between father and son. Cledd seemed, to me... from his expression... betrayed. I am not an expert on judging men--" She looks away from Mr. Graham, and adds a soft, "--As you will likely be the first to acknowledge. But the way they betray others...."

While averting her gaze from Mr. Graham's, Kylah spots a familiar figure walking toward the replicator. Her heart beats faster and she turns away, not wanting to be seen staring at him. Still weak, she needs to place a hand on Mr. Graham's arm for support, but just as quickly releases it. "I am sorry, perhaps I am not very helpful--or hungry--maybe I should just--"

But she is too late. His inquiry, polite but cool, nothing more than an observation he might make about a strange new species of beetle that was accidentally trodden on.

Kylah swallows and wishes she could respond professionally, but she cannot. "I am glad you were not there to see it, Ensign Rangin. You would have discovered that my blood is not as blue as you believe it to be. I remember little but the sight of red. And intense pain. And that too might be a new discovery for you: that I feel pain far more keenly than you and your friends realize."

Nia is not surprised that Vargas has spoken to Three Crows before the actual mission leader--Vargas is nothing if not predictably trustful only of his Security pals--but she wonders why Booker wasn't the Chosen One instead. And she would've expected better from Singh, but the captain sometimes rivals Vargas for her hands-off leadership style.

"Of course, Commander. It's clear Cledd isn't planning on sending Bela one of those hideous ties for Father's Day, assuming they celebrate it there too. Still, since the alternative is keeping his mouth shut and getting thrown... wherever you plan on throwing the kidnappers... I thought leaving them 'alone'"--Nia makes the finger quotes--"might allow Cledd to air his grievances rather than trying to hide his gullibility in front of strangers he loathes. But, anyway, I look forward to being debriefed by you."

With anyone else on the ship, up to and including Singh, Nia would play with the double entendre. Vargas has never exhibited that level of good-natured humor, nor does she like him enough to try and coax it out of him.

So she continues seriously. "The sooner we report, sir, the more likely our memories are to be accurate. I'll be ready whenever you and the ccaptain need me." After a pause, she adds, "Just one thing. You might want to double-check on Lt. Morris. He sent a message to a communicator in the kidnappers' possession, at a time when he knew that his team leader didn't have it. I've asked Lt. Garcia to check up on whether Krako received and responded to the message. He might have the information by now."

She ends with a pleasant smile and waits to be dismissed. Her lungs are beginning to feel sore, but mostly she really wants to check in on her team.

As spiteful and vicious as ever and still making no sense, at least in part it seems she is recovering physically, while her brains are still addled like a set of over ripe eggs. Perhaps it was time to remind her that petty, personal, thoughts and feelings are her purvey and not his.

"Had I had been there, I would have tried to stop it, after all you were on this mission at my request, my responsibility, hence why I am asking about your well being." Rangin looks at her, sighs and thinks back to what happened. "Hearing it over the live comm link was almost as bad, when all I could do was to try and get Chief Nguyen to transport you to safety before you were struck." He shrugs wondering if Kylah is really worth it. He could easily make some crack that if her blood is blue, it would have made it easier to transport her out, but at this time with Graham hulking around, it's not worth it.

He shakes his head and turns slightly, "I still do not know what friends you are referring to," he says, "but speaking of them, if you didn't already know Lt. Collins will recover."

Unwilling to engage any further, Rangin starts to move away to find a table some way distant from the pair.

"Thank you, Mr. Onn," Vargas says. "Point taken. Have your people report for debriefing in Conference Room 2 in... let's say half an hour."

Graham's already low expectations are exceeded by Rangin's hootspah in inquiring---in what appears to be an intentionally insulting manner--about Kylah's well-being after his previous performance in Sickbay, and not sure what at all she means by "friends..."

But he's even more taken aback by the mention of Collins. He reacts instinctively, his attention shifting to remembering the trouble on OC3 and seeing her get back on track afterward...

"Wait--what happened to Collins?" he blurts out.

Rangin's eyes narrow at Graham's sudden outburst in surprise that someone in Security hadn't noticed Collins' absence. Then again it appears he is far more interested in indulging his father fetish for Kylah.

"She needed to come back to Sick Bay. Doc is not saying why but she should recover." Rangin keeps his voice low not wanting to inform all and sundry in the Mess Hall like that.

Kylah just looks at Rangin, cold to the bone. She feels nothing from him, a void; he expends no apparent emotional energy when talking to her. The difference between what she shared with him that last night in her cabin--desperate passion on her part, need and heat on his--and the dismissiveness so evident now is immeasurable.

She does not know what is more frightening: a maliciously charming monster like Darren Zweller, or someone who can apparently turn his emotions on and off like a light switch. All she knows is that with men like Zweller, she feels like a cut of meat for them to slice and devour; with men like Rangin, Kylah is merely garbage; worthless.

The news about Collins hits her hard and she takes a step back, staring blankly at the Mess doors for an unthinking moment. As she does, they whoosh open and a woman dressed in a silver flapper dress walks in. Suddenly the picture clears. "We were told none of this," she says in a quiet monotone. "So that is why Lieutenant Onn was there. You requested her."

Why would he replace a security officer with a navigator? To order around someone of an even higher rank? Is she a new target of interest? Kylah knows little about the Sidonian woman, but if she has caught his eye, he could not have picked someone less like Kylah if he tried.

Ignoring the extraordinarily unwelcome ripple of sadness that rises with this thought, she looks back at Mr. Graham. "I suppose you will visit Lt. Collins? If so, please give her my best wishes and tell her I will see her in our cabin. I... I no longer have much appetite. Thank you for escorting me here, sir, and I apologize for wasting your time."

She turns around to find the alternate Mess exit that will allow her to leave without passing by Ensign Velir Rangin.

Nia enters the Mess while finishing tapping in a broadcast message to everyone in the landing party. When she sends it off, she hears little communicator alert sounds simultaneously peeking through the noise one expects to find in a ship's Mess.

Her chin lifts and she sees, standing out among the rest of the uniformed crew, Booker and--oh crap--Rangin, squaring off in their mobster suits. And double that order of crap, because just off to the side and turning to leave is, of course, of course, the damsel-in-distress herself, albeit clad in the proper uniform.

The recognition of the others in their undercover wardrobe forces Nia to look down with a waaay belated realization. Triple orders of crap. She completely forgot that she's still wearing this absurd spangly handkerchief... including the whole time she spent talking to the Captain and, worse, much worse, Cmdr. Vargas.

Unfuckingbelievable. No wonder he didn't take me seriously after I waltz in looking like an only-slightly overdressed Argelian belly dancer. Vowing revenge yet again on her friend in Wardrobe, Nia sighs and decides to forgo the cup of coffee she was heading for and break up this whatever-it-is between the bestest pair of friends on the Yorktown.

"Briefing in about twenty minutes, gentlemen," she says loudly as soon as she's close enough to avoid yelling. And a little louder still: "And you too, Ensign Kylah. If you're feeling well enough, that is." Nia is careful not to invest this with anything but genuine concern. She can't help adding mentally, Although if you're well enough to create whatever-the-hell-this-awkward-situation-is in the merely five minutes the rest of us have been back aboard the ship, I'm guessing you're well enough to sit in a debriefing.

As Kylah turns, Nia sees her face is a ghastly white, making the girl's eyes seem opaque black, nothing but pupil. A stab of actual genuine concern hits Nia, along with some guilt. "I'm just glad to see you up and around," she says, her voice gentle. "I regret not being able to prevent what happened, Ensign. I'm sure we all do."

Nia eyes Booker, hoping he knows she's sincere. She doesn't want to meet with the others; she wants to be far away from the Iotians and the CAG and their problems.

Mostly, she wants to lie naked in bed, in Booker's similarly bare arms, breathing deeply. And feeling peaceful.

Hopefully this wish will come true.

Graham casually but with a great economy of motion moves so that Rangin would have to go through or around him to follow Kylah.

His frown of concern for Collins brightens when Nia approaches.

"Uh, I'm not sure every Nav specialist could carry off the new uniform, but it works for you,...lieuntenant," he says, with a hint of a smile.

Onn and Graham are able to meet privately later when off-duty, and Graham appreciates her slinky Roaring Twenties dress all over again.

Rangin and Kylah go their separate ways from the Mess Hall. In a day or two, she has fully recovered from her stab wounds.

Collins also fully recovers and is discharged from Sickbay the next day. Three days after that, she learns that she has been promoted to full lieutenant and reassigned to be Chief of Security aboard the USS Theseus.

Mission debriefing, led by the First Officer, goes smoothly. Onn and the others incidentally learn that Morris sent his text from the lobby of the Paramount nightclub not to the communicator of any of the kidnapped Starfleet officers, but to the Yorktown's Comm Center, which then passed it along to his Civil Advisory Group colleagues (with whom he is now happily reunited).

Jojo Krako makes a full confession, implicating Cledd Okmyx and others in his gang in the kidnapping plot; Yeg Okmyx separately corroborates it. With the Captain's permission, President Bela Okmyx then meets privately with his son for over an hour. The next day, with obvious reluctance, Cledd makes a full confession of his own. The Captain orders Krako and Cledd arrested for crimes against Starfleet personnel; they will be turned over to the Federation for eventual trial.

Starfleet Command decides to reevaluate the policy of having a CAG on Sigma Iotia II. For the time being, the Potemkin personnel will remain aboard the Yorktown pending reassignment.

The Captain commends each of you for your role in figuring out the kidnapping plot, freeing the CAG and bringing the wrongdoing gangsters to justice.

The Yorktown breaks Iotian orbit and leaves for its next destination, Beta Antares IV.


THE END