Lover's Rest
Ecstasy Street
Nuvia City, Risa

T'Pol was Vulcan.

They didn't have very many trees on Vulcan for little Vulcan children to climb, to build tree houses in or fall off and suffer their first ever broken limb.

They did, however, have cliffs and bluffs just about everywhere, in and amongst all the shifting sand and sand dunes. Those served essentially the same purpose for little Vulcan children.

So climbing up the alleyway wall of the Lover's Rest to the second story balcony of Caros R'Lon's room under the relative three-quarter gravity of a Minshara class planet like Risa…

Literally child's play.

She was up and on the balcony in mere seconds. She even arrived quietly, without drawing attention to herself, despite the fal-menya currently sitting at rest a block down the street and providing no noise to cover her movements at all.

Inside the room, Caros was hastily babbling everything he could think of to keep the men in the room from hurting him anymore and that served the purpose adequately enough.

"Six of them!" He was saying. "Uh…four Humans! Uh…the British and another light skinned male. They called him 'the Tripper', I think! Like when you make someone fall down? Uh…one female and…uh…one dark male…uh…a Vulcan woman and…uh…an Orion…they called her 'the Royal', I think…"

Smack.

"We know all that. What else?"

"They have a ship! Down on the docks! They're off-worlders!"

Smack.

"Of course they're off-worlders! What else? You're running out of time, Caros!"

"I…I think they're working for Du'kar!"

Sudden silence.

Which Caros took immediate advantage of.

"At least I think so! They said they were going to the wedding reception. Du'kar's daughter? Like they were invited. Yes, they had an invitation! I remember now! And they…"

Sounds of shuffling, Caros being yanked about a bit. His sudden whimpering.

"You said they worked for Du'kar. Why did you say that? Going to a party doesn't mean they work for him…"

"They kept calling him 'the client'! Like…they had a job! Like he hired them!"

Silence again.

For several seconds.

Caros whimpering a little more lightly now. Trying not to distract from whatever was keeping these men from smacking him around for a moment.

"J'Mar…that sounds like…"

"Shut up, I'm thinking."

"Sure, but…'the Tripper'? 'The British' and 'the Royal'? These people sound like real professionals. Maybe we should…"

"I said shut up!"

Outside, down the street, the fal-menya suddenly picked up again. The music blaring and thumping in the air, signaling that they were on the move.

And that meant it was time to burn Caros a little more.

T'Pol could hear the sounds of the man in the room hastily begging for them not to do that, because he suddenly had a lot more to say…

She sent Trip the signal, giving him a little nudge to let him know she was on the balcony and ready to begin. For him to signal to Malcolm and Loya in turn, to let them know to prepare to take advantage of the sudden stillness following the fal-menya's noise, to attract attention to themselves.

But there was that annoying and entirely unavoidable aspect of plans of this sort…

They never actually go according to plan. In fact, it seemed the more one carefully and precisely planned for every eventuality, the more likely something entirely unexpected would occur.

Such as J'Mar's sudden anxiety causing him to decide to have a quick stim while his men busied themselves scorching Caros' face in what was left of the burning Pink on the table. And the fact that he preferred poppers…small capsules you broke under your nose for a quick whiff.

Poppers of that sort had a bit of an acrid after-scent that lingered a little. So it was considered polite to step outside or into another room for a second to pop them. A habit he'd naturally picked up over the years, so he stepped out on the balcony to do that despite it not really being necessary under the current circumstances.

J'Mar was worried, after all. The people they were after seemed like they might be professional mercenaries of some sort. Maybe even assassins. And maybe the Orions were even aware of what his boss was planning and had taken steps to prepare for it. Maybe even…taking steps to prepare to strike back.

That was troubling, to say the least. Things hadn't exactly gone very well the first time they ran into those guys back at the shacks. So he suddenly found he wasn't looking forward to the prospect of being hunted all over Nuvia City by these mysterious off-worlders, should the boss's bid to snatch territory from the Orions fail.

Naturally he wasn't paying much attention to what was waiting for him out on the balcony. He had no reason to. It was a balcony. It's not as if the British would be out there waiting to snatch him or anything.

He focused on his worries instead, and on the popper he quickly produced from one pocket, popped and took a good whiff of as he stepped out onto the balcony.

He was completely unaware of what happened to him then, when T'Pol simply reached over from where he'd completely failed to notice her, pinched him on the neck with one hand and gave him a little shove at the small of the back with the other.

Except for a quick, vague wondering at how that popper must have really been some good stuff right before the lights went out. Because it sure seemed like he was flying all of a sudden.

Tamish was getting tired of this, really.

The alcohol in the Pink didn't even burn all that hot. Sure it gave the guy blisters and they'd burned most of his hair off. And, sure, his face and neck were all red and angry about it all.

But it's not like they were peeling his face off or anything. You'd think he'd toughen up a bit and stop wailing like a little girl. It had gotten pretty irritating a long time ago. Even the loud, thumping music from the fal-menya down the street was starting to get on his nerves. He was already kind of looking forward to being done here and just burning the guy's face off for real. With a plasma pistol this time.

You know, just to be done here.

And besides, this was starting to make him very nervous. These guys sounded like they might be real badasses…

J'Mar needed to get back in here and tell them what to do. Say they were done so they could blast this guy and…go do whatever they were going to do about all this.

But…he wasn't on the balcony out there anymore. Tamish could see that right off, when he glanced nervously over there. And he still wasn't out there when he took a second look.

That…

Okay, that might be a problem.

"Benti, Siles…" He said, quietly. Warningly. To get the guys focused on how there might be a problem.

They didn't hear him of course, because of the stupid fal-menya. So he raised his voice…

"Hey, guys…!"

Right exactly when the fal-menya stopped and went quiet again, so his voice rang out and startled everybody. Which at least got them all focused and listening sharply.

So they immediately heard the big, clomping sound of boots out in the hall just to either side of the door. And heard how those boots suddenly, very threateningly stopped clomping out there the very second they could be heard.

Tamish glanced warily, wide-eyed, between the balcony and the door to the suddenly too-small room he found himself trapped in.

Then glanced back and forth again, hand already reaching nervously for the plasma pistol in his waistband.

Because…right, those guys were professional badasses…

Trip got a general impression of what had just happened on the other side of the door. T'Pol sent it, whether intentionally or inadvertently, he couldn't tell. But one guy had wandered out on the balcony and was suddenly not a concern anymore. And the other five guys in the room had heard Malcolm and Loya in the hall, so they were drawing guns and looking back and forth in both directions, instead of just at the door…

So he improvised. Because, yeah, things never go exactly according to plan. You had to be ready to improvise.

He was already standing in the bathtub, right next to the door, taking advantage of the cover of the wall. Just in case. So he reached out and knocked politely on the door to the other room. And he whispered, loudly and harshly.

"Hey, Caros!" He whispered, anxiously. "I think the British is out in the hall looking for you! He looks really mad!"

Definite sounds of people shifting around in the room now. T'Pol sending the impression immediately…yeah they were taking cover in there, weapons ready.

Okay, so that was a bit more according to plan then.

Tamish kept his plasma pistol trained on the door, crouching down behind Caros where he sat in the chair slumped over mumbling a little to himself.

He spared a glance back at the balcony every few seconds, because J'Mar stubbornly insisted on still being not there anymore. But there was no one else out there, so maybe he just got sniped or something. The balcony was in clear view, so no one could be hiding out there unless they were crouched up on the side of the thing, along the railing. That wasn't very likely.

So he focused on the door, along with everyone else. Waiting, tense…

Nothing happened.

Which made it all the more tense and anxious.

He knew what was going on here. Those guys were out in the hall, waiting for the fal-menya to move again. Then they would burst through the door and start shooting.

So he focused on the door, like everyone else. Because they had to start shooting when that happened, too. Shoot more and shoot faster. Shoot like their lives depended on it. Light that whole doorway up so nothing could get through to kill them all…

Caros suddenly lolled his head back, face blistered and red but otherwise stoned out of his gourd. He blinked at the ceiling a bit, right in front of Tamish.

"Is it the British?" He slurred, curiously.

That just made Tamish even more anxious. The rest of them, too. They all tensed, waiting to fire the split second…

An odd thing happened then, which none of them noticed right away, being so focused on the door and the horrible, terrible thing about to happen there.

Caros R'Lon had grown up poor and like so many poor native Risians, his family couldn't afford the more sophisticated ja'risia. Not the kind that bonded to the skin of your forehead, with that symbiotic biomechanical bond. He had the much more affordable version of that. Still a ja'risia, still composed of the proper metallic materials and with the precise inscribed symbolic design.

But it was just glued on there. So it came off sometimes, now and again. Not very often, but often enough. Certainly when dunked repeatedly into a pile of burning Pink.

His ja'risia fell off. Came lose, hanging for just a moment…before gravity finally had its way with it and it fell, plopping unnoticed onto his chest, sliding down to fall and impact his knee and go spinning off in the rough direction of the door. Spinning off to land almost precisely between the table and the door to the hallway…

With a sharp 'ting' that practically rang out in all the heavy silence going on…

*ting*

Everyone started shooting.

Loya was waiting outside the door, just a meter away to the right across from Malcolm, who waited just a meter away to the left. They waited because, if everything was going according to plan in there, the men in the room would be focused on the door by then, waiting for them to burst in and start shooting.

They were waiting for the fal-menya to noisily kick off again down the street, because if the men hadn't figured it out yet, then they certainly would then. That the noise would cover their own attack, so that would bring tensions to a nice peak in there.

Then T'Pol would poke her head out from where she perched on the balcony, shoot a two or three of them in the back and get their attention. Then take cover again immediately so that she and Malcolm actually could kick in the door and attack whoever was left. With Trip then kicking in his door a second or two later to shoot anyone else that was still standing.

Which there probably wouldn't be by then. Because all of that would have the guys spinning around every which way.

So she was a little surprised when the men in the room started blasting the door all of a sudden. And they kept on blasting it until bits and pieces were flying off, smoking and burning, with nice big holes in it.

That went on for nearly three seconds, at which point she leaned forward a bit to catch Malcolm's eye, with a questioning look on her face.

He just shrugged and gave her a look. So he didn't know what those guys were trying to do either.

The shooting eventually stopped and there wasn't much left of the doorway anymore, other than a few pieces stubbornly hanging on smoking around the edges. So the doorway was practically open for them, which was nice. And the men in the room were focused on the door still, with tensions peaked perfectly in there.

T'Pol didn't bother waiting for the fal-menya to kick off, apparently, because they heard her open fire in there right away.

Tamish heard the professional badasses in the hallway firing back at them. He even saw Benti and Sharel go down to either side of him.

He just didn't see the professional badasses in the hallway shooting back at them. It was like they were shooting through the walls somehow and the beams of their weapons were completely invisible in some way.

He honestly assumed that must be the case at first, as much as the thought terrified him…

Then he realized someone was shooting them from behind. Someone out on the balcony.

They were just ducking out of sight when he spun about to find them, aim at them and shoot them back. By then Siles had gone down too, so only he and Kava were left.

He aimed his plasma pistol at the balcony…and his aim trembled. Because he just knew he was going to die…

Then he heard movement behind him and spun back around…to see nothing at first. He could hear the sizzle of a beam weapon of some kind being fired at them and he saw Kava convulse, gurgle and go down…

But he didn't see the Orion, way down there close to the floor where she was, firing into the room. She was leaning out, maybe only a quarter meter off the floor somehow, and she'd walked a particle beam right up Kava, from his knees right up to his chest, before disappearing back out of sight.

He barely had time to stand up a bit from where he was crouching behind Caros to aim down there…then she was gone…

Neither of them had even had time to shoot back.

And then the British…

He popped out then, out of nowhere, up high now where Tamish wasn't aiming any more…

That was it. Tamish had enough. He ducked right back down again, hiding behind Caros.

Plasma bolts flew all over the place from the doorway. Flying overhead, to either side, one or two down by his ankles. A few things exploded here and there…

Then a quick moment of silence. And Tamish knew then that whatever terrible thing was going to happen next would happen in only a second or two at most. Maybe not even that long.

So he ran.

He panicked and ran, wailing in terror. Ran to the bathroom where whatever friendly and helpful…and especially non-threatening…person who had been kind enough to whisper a warning was hopefully still waiting to not shoot and kill him. Maybe he could even take them hostage…

They even opened the door for him, like they knew he was coming…so he could run and escape…

But…wait…

Trip knew there wasn't any point trying to expect anything when he opened the door to lean out and take a few potshots. There was no predicting what would be going on in there. If everything went according to plan, the guys would be panicking and firing wildly all over the place. Who knows what they'd be doing or where they'd be in the room.

His role here was mainly just to add another layer of chaos to things. If he managed to actually hit someone, that would be great. It wasn't really necessary, though.

That one guy, stumbling around wailing and trying to get to the door he'd just opened…

Not exactly expected.

But, okay.

He tossed off a quick shot, hit him and dropped him before he could even get halfway there.

And truth be told, he was happy to. This was really the reason he'd lingered at the truck, back at the thoroughfare, to find just the right weapon. It was why he'd dug around in there until he'd found a phase pistol.

Never mind that it was the Starfleet weapon of choice and the one he was most familiar with, phase pistols were Human designed and so they typically had a stun setting.

Sure, he was Starfleet. Or, okay, ex-Starfleet. But he still wasn't a big fan of burning holes in people. He'd much rather stun them if he could get away with that.

So he'd kinda hoped he did get a chance to shoot somebody. Because that'd mean he'd spare that one from having a bolt of plasma explode somewhere on their body when either Malcolm or Loya shot them.

He was happy to oblige then. And it made him feel a whole lot better about things, shooting that guy.

Once he looked around a bit, peeking around the edge of the doorway to be sure everyone was down and out in there…he gave T'Pol the 'all clear' nudge and she joined him in the room. Then he called everyone else in and they went right to work tying up the four guys that he and T'Pol had stunned.

The one Loya had shot…that guy was pretty dead. So they just left him where he was.

Caros was very helpful and forthcoming, answering all their questions. But he was also pretty wasted on all the powder he'd inhaled, so they had to repeat a few of the questions more than once.

Not much there that they hadn't figured out on their own. Caros had seen them get into a big brawl at the Pink Cloud, seen Malcolm take out a couple dozen guys on his own, saw an opportunity to make some credits and had jumped at it.

Led them all to the Iron Pit, fronted the entrance fee for Malcolm and took a cut of the winnings. And took a few bruises from the Orions when they didn't throw the fight and ran off instead, until the Orions figured they'd still made every bit of the profit they'd expected by just seizing all Malcolm's winnings and they let him go.

Then all this happened.

That was pretty much all he had to offer. Except that Travis had snatched one of the Orion guy's jackets by mistake on the way out the door, decided he liked the colors and kept it. And they found the invitation in the pocket, recognized Du'kar's name and decided it would be a fantastic idea to attend.

And, yes, T'Pol still had her Vulcan Guard jacket at the time.

T'Pol found all of that very helpful and was very appreciative. Enough that she allowed Hoshi and Trip to fetch a first aid kit from the bathroom, untie him from the chair and tend to him a bit. While she, Malcolm and Travis tossed the unconscious men off the balcony. And the dead guy.

So Caros wouldn't have to bother with that portion of the clean up.

They even got Travis's jacket back, since Caros had taken it, hoping they'd come looking for it and he'd have a chance to try to talk the British into fighting again.

All in all…not a bad day they were having so far.