Buying Time
Selina was hunched down behind the counter of the bar. She had retreated to the edge of the bar as soon as the first punches were thrown, thinking she could edge away toward the offices in case she was needed. However the Tygarian bartender had grabbed her and pulled her down beside him. As Tygarians considered humans rather odd-looking, he had done it out of pure fellow-feeling. For which she was profoundly grateful. If someone was going to put an arm around her right now she very much preferred that it be someone who found her not the least bit attractive. It was difficult enough to block lust with her shields completely up. Even non-telepaths could pick up that emotion when it was strong. To hear it from all directions, including from her supposed accomplices had been deeply disturbing.
Now she was nearly shaking with reaction as she tried to re-center and return her shields to proper order. The problem with projecting was that not only could you not entirely block hearing, but to project feelings, you had to actually feel them. Peace, serenity, cooperation - those were easy, especially when she had had time to mediate first. And the feedback loop of hearing their effects on the crowd only made it easier. Strong primitive emotions were far more difficult to handle, particularly because the same feedback loop applied. She had told Spock to stop listening just before she slapped Jim, and she sincerely hoped that he had. She did not want him to be affected by her overload.
The poor bartender seemed to think she was trembling with fright and kept making reassuring noises, covering her head when yet another glass crashed into the wall opposite the counter. If he only knew how very much she would also like to hit someone right now.
Centering was proving difficult. While it had been almost a relief to release the anger that had been building inside her, the feedback required careful suppression. However, the first techniques for control that Vulcans had ever developed were aimed at eliminating violent anger, and they were also the first that she had learned. She was accustomed to restraining her own not inconsiderable temper. The bit of desire she had added to the mix to distract the burly guard from pummeling Jim into dust was proving more difficult. She had buried that part of herself with David and had not dealt with it for a long time. Reinforced by the feedback, it was not dissipating easily. The feel of Len's arm around her... The rather vivid images in Jim's mind...
- NO! These things would have no home in her mind, most especially not in a bar and not in this outrageous outfit.
She took a deep breath and envisioned herself standing in the midst of the flaming pyre of her emotions. She chose to step out...
Disruptor fire shattered a light above the bar. Suddenly everything became very quiet.
"Right." said a deep male voice. "Now that I've got you're attention, the lot of you are going to line up over there. Then we're all going to take a little trip to the back and have a bit of a discussion about just who's going to pay for all this damage."
Bogozh! The back is where the offices are. She doubted the fight had lasted long enough for Jim and Len to get Lt. Hanlan out.
.
"Don't be so superstitious, Bones." Jim said, pulling out his communicator. "Kirk to Enterprise. Three to beam up."
"Ah'm sorry Captain. I kanna git a transporter lock," Scotty replied.
Bones glared at him.
"Um, patch me through to Uhura, okay?" Jim said.
There was a moment of dead air and a click. "Uhura here, Captain."
"Tell your locksmith to get their system to drop the shields so we can beam out," he told her.
"Can't do it. The shielding is built into the walls, not computer controlled," she replied. "You're going to have to find a way to carry her out. And I suggest you do it soon. One of their security guys just pulled a disruptor, so the fight is pretty much over now."
"A disruptor? Is Selina okay?"
"I think so. The bartender pulled her down behind the counter when the fighting started."
"Huh. Her and bartenders," Jim said, shaking his head. "Look, these guys are rats and rats always have more than one way out. Are there any other exits?"
"There's a small private transporter pad at the back and a private shuttle port. But besides the guys in the monitor room, the only guards left in the offices right now are watching those."
"Do you know where they keep the weapons?" Kirk asked. They hadn't been able to bring anything but communicators into the casino.
"The cabinet is in the monitor room, but there are three guards in there," she said. "Should I call Spock?"
"No, not yet. We're still stuck in here and the last thing I want is a shoot out between our security and theirs with a bunch of civilians caught in the middle. We'll find a way. Kirk out."
"Seems like we could do with a little more superstition," Bones muttered.
.
"Did I hear that correctly?" Sorenson asked. The raised eyebrow would have looked Spock-like except for the emotion in the rest of his face.
"So you, uh, know her too then?" Nyota said weakly. She'd known the odds were against keeping it a secret as soon as she realized he'd met Selina before.
"Yeah. You could say that." He was studying his hands on the keyboard. "Allow me amend my prior statement. I have definitely not been completely absorbed in watching her. In fact, I was too embarrassed to look and left the watching entirely to you." He sighed. "They'll probably both believe that."
.
Selina stood up behind the bar. She could use a few more minutes to settle herself, but she needed to find a way to either buy some time or get back to the offices and help. She carefully picked her way out over the broken glass. Open toes and spike heels were definitely not designed for this situation.
The big guard came over and offered her a hand. "You okay there, Miss?"
"Yes, thank you." It was an opportunity. She took his hand. "I am so sorry. I never meant..." She looked around to indicate the damage.
"There's been a bad vibe in the place all morning." He shrugged. "Something was bound to set it off."
Another of the security guys came over to them. "Hey, Belv, time to get these frazzoos moving upstairs."
Selina imagined Hanlan screaming and kicking against a closet door and stumbled against Belv allowing the image to leak into his mind. He paused, and then steered Selina to a bar stool. "Look, Miss, you have a seat. I need to have a word with Mr. Katrell here."
He stepped over to the other guard. "I'm thinking that right now might not be the best time to have a whole bunch of guys crowded up in the office. Ya know, on account of the guest we got sleeping it off up there."
Katrell nodded. "Okay, what do you want to do with them?"
"I figure the cashier's got all their financials. You line them up over there and have them sign transfers for..." he looked around. "I'd say 500 credits each ought to cover it - taking into account our time and trouble and all."
"Okay, sounds good. Let's get them moving."
"You and the other guys should be able to handle it." Belv glanced over his shoulder. "The lady there is pretty shook up. I'm just gonna stay here a couple minutes - make sure she's alright, ya know? Then I'll go up and check on our guest."
Katrell rolled his eyes. "Yeah. I know." He turned to the rest. "Okay, you lot. We're going over to the cashier so's you can all pay up. Anyone who doesn't want to cooperate can work it off as a practice dummy for my friends here." There was a groan from the men in line, but they began to move along peacefully.
Belv sat down next to Selina. "You sure you're okay?"
"I think so, yes." She looked down, affecting embarrassment. "I really did not intend - "
"Look, I seen the whole the whole thing from the start," he said. "I don't know what that guy said to you, but I seen his type enough to know he probably deserved to get hit a whole lot harder." He straightened his jacket sleeves. "Wanted to pop him one myself, but ...well, the boss, he don't like me throwing the first punch."
She gave him a little smile. It didn't even require affectation to convey that she appreciated the sentiment, although she much preferred to execute her own revenge.
"You look a little shook up." He put a hand on her shoulder.
Great, she thought. More lust. She had to try to keep him here to buy time, but there was only so much she could take. "I must look terrible," she said, wiping at her eyes to smudge her make-up in the hopes of making it true.
"Nah," he said and handed her a tissue. "Here, wipe your eyes. A pretty lady like you don't need all that goo anyway."
She took the tissue and dabbed at her face. "Thank you. I just want to look right for..." She looked away as though upset.
"Hey, class act like you don't need none of that to look right." He leaned against the bar. "And you don't need that blonde pipsqueak. Creep like that ain't worth being upset over."
She smiled. She normally did not read thoughts when I guy was trying to pick her up, since it was both unpleasant and unfair, but this was clearly an exceptional case. Belv had correctly assessed that his size and physical prowess would not draw her, so he was giving her space, playing concerned friend to get her to think kindly toward him. That was fine. That strategy of pursuit would take time.
"I suppose you are right," she said, laughing to herself. Belv was a thug with ulterior motives, but he also had a better pick-up artist routine than the 'blonde pipsqueak'. If they got out of this just telling Jim that would probably be revenge enough.
Note: 'Bogozh' means 'hell' in Vulcan. Vulcans don't curse, but humans living among them probably pick up and adapt a few words. 'Frazzoo' is entirely made up. Gangster slang changes fairly rapidly even in this century, so new terms are pretty likely in the 23rd too. It was incredibly tempting to write Belv with a NJ accent, because he works in a casino and I live a few hours from Atlantic City. Plus, I picture him looking a bit like a cross between Patrick Warburton and a mid-1990s Sylvester Stallone (with a little of The Sopranos Dante Silvio thrown in).
