Unity – So the Story Goes (Part 2)
by Commander Karen Villiers & Commander Chelsea Dunham & Captain Tasha Tahir (NPC) & Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal & Chief Executive Officer Wayne Bradshaw
Post Details
Bryan moved aside, shouldering Mercy to allow the small party to exit the Box of Delights.
This seemed to be the signal for the crowd to re-ignite their voiced grievances.
"We should leave..."
"Yea, ain't gonna get anything outta these fleeters..."
"Aye, if we want somink done, we gotta do it usselves..."
"With you there, we have to look after ourselves, not be mamby pambied by flaming terrorists in our own shops..."
"Hah, they can't even look after themselves, how can we expect them to look after us...."
"They don't care about us, so long as we keep our shops and bars open for them, they don't care if we live or die, we're not fleeters!"
From nowhere a glass flew over head and crashed near the door behind Mercy. Bryan hadn't seen it coming, but as he looked around at the broken glass, a silence fell over the room as the door opened and the Romulan Ambassador entered.
He walked with an easy gait, as though on an afternoon stroll apparently oblivious to the chaos around him. Rh'vaurek had been out trying to clear his head, trying to come up with a solution to shake Isha out of herself other than physically assaulting her; he'd failed at that, and when the explosions came and when he tried to get back into his embassy he found himself on the wrong side of a lockdown.
Rh'vaurek paused and let his gaze run over the assembly, "What's a man got to do to get a drink round here?" he said with a twist of his lip, allowing them a moment to get used to the idea that the Tal'Shiar had joined the party.
Yolanthe looked him up and down. Not bad. Pretty. Down girl! More important things to think about right now. She finished upending various liquids into the blender. "You come ask the woman who owns the bar." She looked around, trying to spot who chucked the glass at the man with the Fleet woman doing all the talking, then raised her voice for the benefit of everyone else "Who is, by the way, the only-" the blender buzzed, drowning out her next word, "-person here allowed to throw the-" buzz -"glassware!" She nodded at the bar chair Klia had vacated. "Take a seat, I'll be right with you."
She tipped the blender contents into two glasses, added straws, and brought the drinks out to the administrators, offering one to Bryan before turning back to Mercy. "You're going to have to come up with something better than a chain of command. This lot are drinking real alcohol and getting ugly. Can't you get a superior officer down here? Let them get lynched, instead of you?"
Bryan shrugged his shoulders. "We could, but I don't think that they will enter under these conditions." He stated matter of factly.
"That's crazy." Yolanthe shook her head and shoved her way back to the bar. This was going to end badly. And I thought tonight couldn't get any worse
Rh'vaurek angled himself on the barstool so that he could see the room, leaning back with one elbow on the bar; it was quite a crowd, and none too pleased. He let his gaze roam over the faces, guaging the mood as he waited for the colourful bar owner to return.
Tharek descended down the stairs from the upper holosuite where Yolanthe had given him his 'trick'. Even for a Cardassian, he looked flustered. He spotted Rh'vaurek over by the bar, and lurked his way over.
"What brings you here, Tharek?" Rh'vaurek asked with a hint of amusement at the man's somewhat dishevelled condition, "I take it that it wasn't the explosions that left you less than perfectly groomed."
"No... I call it pleasureable business." Tharek said with a wicked smile. He positioned his hair back to it's flat state and took the seat next to Rh'vaurek. "What about yourself. What brings yourself here?"
Rh'vaurek offered a knowing chuckle, "So its that sort of place," he said. "My reason is rather mundane. The Consulate went into lockdown when the devices were triggered, I happened to be out at the time. I have my staff under strict orders to let no-one in or out, no exceptions - it would be a real fool who disobeyed that in order to admit me."
"I suppose they would." After Tharek had finished grooming himself, he lent back against the bar, glaring at every pair of eyes that crossed his gaze.
"They're only marginally less popular than we are," Rh'vaurek said with a nod towards the Starfleet types who were still failing to calm the angry crowd. "Don't you relish watching the way some species go to pieces when something unexpected happens." It was a comment rather than a question, and Rh'vaurek suspected that it would not take much for he and Getal to become the focus of the mob's fear.
"I don't relish it, Rh'vaurek. I find it quite hilarious. Look how pathetic the Federation is at helping it's own citizens. It takes people like me and you to come in and sort things out." Tharek said, containing his laughter at the Starfleet officer's futile attempt of calming the crowd down.
"Its an embarrassing reflection on the competence of our hosts. They don't have the authority to mollify this rabble."
"Should we help our hosts, or stay here and laugh till our lungs cave in?" Tharek said, jokingly.
It was tempting to sit back and watch, but the prospect of a drink with which to toast the moment appeared remote. "They will not appreciate it if we show them how its done, I don't expect the gratitude to flow."
Yolanthe returned to the bar, wishing she kept a deck sweeper, or some other sort of riot gun under the counter. There, the pretty newcomer - Vulcan or Romulan, she could never tell - was talking with the Cardassian Ambassador. For a moment she was surprised, sending a rainbow of colours over her skin, before settling at a shade of coral. In the confusion she'd forgotten all about him. She'd just assumed that he would have run back to his embassy. Unless of course, Madame Meow hadn't let him leave. She could be very... persuasive. She kept the knowing smile off her face. "Gentlemen, what can I get you?"
"Kal`iFhou, the good stuff," Rh'vaurek said, as an aside to Getal he added, "I think we laugh our lungs out. This place is new," he observed, "Not really the usual opening night I guess," it did no harm to have a friend with a bar, people talk in bars, and though the swirling colours hurt Rh'vaurek's eyes, the woman was pleasant enough.
"Sweetie, the only thing I have is good stuff." She picked a carafe of the delicate blue liquid from the rows of bottles he had to choose from, and poured him a generous amount. "And no. It was not the opening night I had planned." Her skin shifted down to gold again thinking about it. She turned to the Cardassian. "The Special Reserve or the 42, Ambassador?"
"It's a nice night, not one for boasting. The Special Reserve, if you will." He smiled as he turned from her to Rh'vaurek. "Laughing it is."
Rh'vaurek's lips split into a wide grin, something that would dispell any doubts she had about his species if the uniform was not giveaway enough. The colours were oddly hypnotic ... Rh'vaurek blinked. If Isha wanted to throw things at him, at least she could do it for a reason. "What's the mood over there?"
"Uglier than a .." her grasp of Federation Standard failed her. She gave up. "Ugly. Its not going to be a bar fight. Its going to be an execution. They've got about sixty seconds to get a superior down here before someone gets hurt." She poured Tharek's Kanar and set it in front of him. "I planned for a gala opening, not a riot."
"Hmmm," he grunted, taking a gulp from his glass. "Not bad. You'd think that would be motivation enough," he continued, "The comm system isn't down, I was able to communicate with my people in the Embassy - it uses the same relay ... they don't look the type to have something to prove."
The administrators' attempts to mollify the crowd were becoming increasingly inefficient. Fists flexed, and the crowd pressed tighter towards them, pinning them in. And more than a few of those pushing at the back were turning back towards the two ambassadors, busy maintaining diplomatic 'neutrality', before nudging companions and sending more furtive, angry glances their way. And then one of them spoke. "If it was one of them getting attacked, we wouldn't be able to move for fleet officers."
A Ferengi next to him agreed. "Command would get down here for you two quicker than these two useless lumps. Do something useful instead of necking kanar. You call them."
Rh'vaurek continued to lean casually against the bar. "Our friend here has a point, Tharek," he remarked, as he began to appraise those in the crowd who were beginning to pay attention to the diplomat's enclave at the bar. "Question is, do we let them strike first, or call for Federation 'assistance'?" to this last he added a disparaging cough.
"We could just do it ourselves. If we stood up for the people, that would give us a rather good political image on the station. A Cardassian and a Romulan, standing up for the people when the Federation can't." Tharek said, taking a large swig of his drink. "Exquisite." He exclaimed as he swallowed.
Before he straightened, Rh'vaurek touched his hand over the top of his glass as though he had been going to drain the pale blue liquid then changed his mind. "Together then," he said.
"Together. Cheers." Tharek spoke, as he swallowed all of the Kanar left in his glass.
As they made their slow approach Rh'vaurek spoke, he had very good hearing and would have heard the remark even if it had not been said in an overly loud tone, "Nobody needs to attack anyone," he said in flawless, unaccented Federation Standard, "we are as far down the list when it comes to assistance as you are, but we can help you."
Tharek stepped forward to acknowledge he was to speak next, he continued on from Rh'vaurek. "We can help relieve the pain, sorrow and misery these events have brought. We offer sympathy, where the Federation demand control. We give peace, where the Federation give chaos." He looked over to Rh'vaurek, for him to continue on.
"We can get you the assistance you require, as much, or as little as you want. All you have to do is ask for it."
"We are willing to help you all. I will offer up any spare space I have to people that have been left homeless. I will feed and clothe those that have none." Tharek looked over to Rh'vaurek, and nudged him with his eyes.
"Who is your spokesman?" Rh'vaurek asked. There was a very good chance that if they pushed too far, too soon with promises and platitudes that the crowd would turn. They needed to speak.
Bryan allowed Mercy to pull away slightly. The crowd had cooled down momentarily and he felt confident in Mercys ability to speak with them once again. As she stepped half a pace forward, he knew the crowd were ready to erupt again and he cursed under his breath, pushing a man to his right aside to afford himself a reach towards Mercy.
The crowd muttered amongst themselves for a moment, unsure now the focus was on something other than their rage. Even amongst themselves there didn't seem to be an agreement. either that or no-one wanted to identify themselves to the two diplomats. Random demands just floated out:
"Get Command down here"
"We want power back on level 1"
"Who's going to pay for repairs?"
"why weren't we warned?"
"Compensation! Loss of earnings!"
And more angry faces turned on Bryan and Mercy
"What aren't you doing anything?"
"How come we have to ask the Spoonhead and Slanty Eyebrows?"
"Why have you bothered coming, you don't care."
"You only do something when it suits you, or you can gain something from it. Your in bed with the fleeters!"
Rh'vaurek paused.
=^= Adams to Acting Ambassador Raedheol =^= she waited for a response. It seemed to be years before the few seconds passed until his reply came through.
"Doctor Adams," Rh'vaurek said with a glance at the uneasy crowd, "I'm in the middle of something."
=^= Yes, you are, more than you know my brother. When will you be free to talk? I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. =^= she said all she *could* say on an open comm in a noisy place.
"I'm a bit busy. Listen," he said in a hushed tone, "do something for me, first contact Nahir i-Orinwen at the Consulate say - lyrr-t'ddreen as well as you can, and then contact your Starfleet friends and tell them that if they don't get a presence down here fast there will be a riot. Understood?"
=^= Down where? =^= Chelsea replied, bewildered. =^= What riot? What are you up to? =^=
"I'm in a bar, a lot of unsettled people. Two paper-pushers failing to keep a lid on the situation. After them, me and the Cardassian Ambassador are on the mob's list. I don't intend to give them a chance to tie that many nooses. DO as you're told and contact i-Orinwen, and your own people. Box of Delights. Now."
=^= I'm going to, right now. How could I until you told me where? =^= Adams cut the connection.
Mercy looked very pale indeed and felt even worse than she looked. It didn't help that this situation was getting out of hand. She looked at Bryan and felt braver.
"Please!" she tried to make herself heard. "This won't help anyone. You all have claims that need to be dealt with and we will do that but we can't do anything like this!"
Bryan as once again behind her and he moved slightly to her left.
The interruption was unwelcome, but it could work for them. "Don't speak for them," Rh'vaurek barked, "I asked for their spokesman, let them speak. Who represents you?"
"Don't talk to me like that!" a surly looking Bajoran stepped forward and pushed Rh'vaurek's shoulder. "You and your spoonhead buddy should get walking."
What is it with the male of this species, Rh'vaurek asked himself as he jerked his head to his shoulder then back to the man, "Did you touch me?" he asked, He was about the same height, civillian, and given the man's opinion of his fellow ambassador had probably spent some time actively fighting Cardassians. Rh'vaurek pushed back, "I don't fancy a walk."
The man swung a punch. Rh'vaurek moved aside and caught his wrist, twisting it and the Bajoran away from him. He followed through, crunching his free hand into his jaw before letting go. The Bajoran staggered, spitting blood then struck back, the misplaced blow catching Rh'vaurek's skull. As the man clutched his damaged hand Rh'vaurek grabbed his hair and shoved him into the nearest wall, "You tell the doctor exactly why your nose is smeared across your face," he hissed before releasing him.
As the Bajoran slumped to the floor Rh'vaurek turnd back to the room, "It pisses me off when people don't appreciate a genuine offer of assistance," he said to no-one in particular making it quite clear that he had pulled a disruptor from beneath his jacket and had no qualms whatsoever about using it.
The moment the Bajoran had stepped forward, Yolanthe had started moving, vaulting the counter top, though even as she slid across the marble surface she was no longer sure who's side she was on. Just as she knew the outcome of any fight she saw, she knew how it was going to end. She had moved to save the pretty Ambassador but before she was half way over, she knew that was not necessary, and the Bajoran was going to be a stain on her floor. By the time her feet hit the ground the Bajoran was gasping feebly. She kicked the disruptor away under the tongo tables, and put herself squarely between the two ambassadors and the mob, determined to prevent more violence, and fervently wishing she'd installed crowd suppression measures rather than chandeliers.
"What did you go and do that for," Rh'vaurek growled at the barkeeper, he was impressed, he had not seen the kick coming but that could wait. "Now we're unarmed. Great plan there."
"You are not 'unarmed'." She hissed back, then turned from him. She glared at the mob, her skin so pale yellow it was almost white. "Alright people, dial this back. They're offering to help. Don't make me bar people on my first night."
As a threat, it wasn't terribly effective. A human on the edge of the crowd was the first to move. He leaned over and smashed the bottom of his beer bottle out on a dabo table, and all hell broke loose.
TBC
by Commander Karen Villiers & Commander Chelsea Dunham & Captain Tasha Tahir (NPC) & Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal & Chief Executive Officer Wayne Bradshaw
Post Details
| Title | So the Story Goes (Part 2) | |
| Mission | Unity | |
| Author(s) | Commander Karen Villiers & Commander Chelsea Dunham & Captain Tasha Tahir (NPC) & Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & Cardassian Vi'kar Gul Tharek Getal & Chief Executive Officer Wayne Bradshaw | |
| Posted | Fri Feb 12, 2010 @ 2:26pm | |
| Location | Box of Delights | |
| Timeline | SD 16 - 23:30 |
This seemed to be the signal for the crowd to re-ignite their voiced grievances.
"We should leave..."
"Yea, ain't gonna get anything outta these fleeters..."
"Aye, if we want somink done, we gotta do it usselves..."
"With you there, we have to look after ourselves, not be mamby pambied by flaming terrorists in our own shops..."
"Hah, they can't even look after themselves, how can we expect them to look after us...."
"They don't care about us, so long as we keep our shops and bars open for them, they don't care if we live or die, we're not fleeters!"
From nowhere a glass flew over head and crashed near the door behind Mercy. Bryan hadn't seen it coming, but as he looked around at the broken glass, a silence fell over the room as the door opened and the Romulan Ambassador entered.
He walked with an easy gait, as though on an afternoon stroll apparently oblivious to the chaos around him. Rh'vaurek had been out trying to clear his head, trying to come up with a solution to shake Isha out of herself other than physically assaulting her; he'd failed at that, and when the explosions came and when he tried to get back into his embassy he found himself on the wrong side of a lockdown.
Rh'vaurek paused and let his gaze run over the assembly, "What's a man got to do to get a drink round here?" he said with a twist of his lip, allowing them a moment to get used to the idea that the Tal'Shiar had joined the party.
Yolanthe looked him up and down. Not bad. Pretty. Down girl! More important things to think about right now. She finished upending various liquids into the blender. "You come ask the woman who owns the bar." She looked around, trying to spot who chucked the glass at the man with the Fleet woman doing all the talking, then raised her voice for the benefit of everyone else "Who is, by the way, the only-" the blender buzzed, drowning out her next word, "-person here allowed to throw the-" buzz -"glassware!" She nodded at the bar chair Klia had vacated. "Take a seat, I'll be right with you."
She tipped the blender contents into two glasses, added straws, and brought the drinks out to the administrators, offering one to Bryan before turning back to Mercy. "You're going to have to come up with something better than a chain of command. This lot are drinking real alcohol and getting ugly. Can't you get a superior officer down here? Let them get lynched, instead of you?"
Bryan shrugged his shoulders. "We could, but I don't think that they will enter under these conditions." He stated matter of factly.
"That's crazy." Yolanthe shook her head and shoved her way back to the bar. This was going to end badly. And I thought tonight couldn't get any worse
Rh'vaurek angled himself on the barstool so that he could see the room, leaning back with one elbow on the bar; it was quite a crowd, and none too pleased. He let his gaze roam over the faces, guaging the mood as he waited for the colourful bar owner to return.
Tharek descended down the stairs from the upper holosuite where Yolanthe had given him his 'trick'. Even for a Cardassian, he looked flustered. He spotted Rh'vaurek over by the bar, and lurked his way over.
"What brings you here, Tharek?" Rh'vaurek asked with a hint of amusement at the man's somewhat dishevelled condition, "I take it that it wasn't the explosions that left you less than perfectly groomed."
"No... I call it pleasureable business." Tharek said with a wicked smile. He positioned his hair back to it's flat state and took the seat next to Rh'vaurek. "What about yourself. What brings yourself here?"
Rh'vaurek offered a knowing chuckle, "So its that sort of place," he said. "My reason is rather mundane. The Consulate went into lockdown when the devices were triggered, I happened to be out at the time. I have my staff under strict orders to let no-one in or out, no exceptions - it would be a real fool who disobeyed that in order to admit me."
"I suppose they would." After Tharek had finished grooming himself, he lent back against the bar, glaring at every pair of eyes that crossed his gaze.
"They're only marginally less popular than we are," Rh'vaurek said with a nod towards the Starfleet types who were still failing to calm the angry crowd. "Don't you relish watching the way some species go to pieces when something unexpected happens." It was a comment rather than a question, and Rh'vaurek suspected that it would not take much for he and Getal to become the focus of the mob's fear.
"I don't relish it, Rh'vaurek. I find it quite hilarious. Look how pathetic the Federation is at helping it's own citizens. It takes people like me and you to come in and sort things out." Tharek said, containing his laughter at the Starfleet officer's futile attempt of calming the crowd down.
"Its an embarrassing reflection on the competence of our hosts. They don't have the authority to mollify this rabble."
"Should we help our hosts, or stay here and laugh till our lungs cave in?" Tharek said, jokingly.
It was tempting to sit back and watch, but the prospect of a drink with which to toast the moment appeared remote. "They will not appreciate it if we show them how its done, I don't expect the gratitude to flow."
Yolanthe returned to the bar, wishing she kept a deck sweeper, or some other sort of riot gun under the counter. There, the pretty newcomer - Vulcan or Romulan, she could never tell - was talking with the Cardassian Ambassador. For a moment she was surprised, sending a rainbow of colours over her skin, before settling at a shade of coral. In the confusion she'd forgotten all about him. She'd just assumed that he would have run back to his embassy. Unless of course, Madame Meow hadn't let him leave. She could be very... persuasive. She kept the knowing smile off her face. "Gentlemen, what can I get you?"
"Kal`iFhou, the good stuff," Rh'vaurek said, as an aside to Getal he added, "I think we laugh our lungs out. This place is new," he observed, "Not really the usual opening night I guess," it did no harm to have a friend with a bar, people talk in bars, and though the swirling colours hurt Rh'vaurek's eyes, the woman was pleasant enough.
"Sweetie, the only thing I have is good stuff." She picked a carafe of the delicate blue liquid from the rows of bottles he had to choose from, and poured him a generous amount. "And no. It was not the opening night I had planned." Her skin shifted down to gold again thinking about it. She turned to the Cardassian. "The Special Reserve or the 42, Ambassador?"
"It's a nice night, not one for boasting. The Special Reserve, if you will." He smiled as he turned from her to Rh'vaurek. "Laughing it is."
Rh'vaurek's lips split into a wide grin, something that would dispell any doubts she had about his species if the uniform was not giveaway enough. The colours were oddly hypnotic ... Rh'vaurek blinked. If Isha wanted to throw things at him, at least she could do it for a reason. "What's the mood over there?"
"Uglier than a .." her grasp of Federation Standard failed her. She gave up. "Ugly. Its not going to be a bar fight. Its going to be an execution. They've got about sixty seconds to get a superior down here before someone gets hurt." She poured Tharek's Kanar and set it in front of him. "I planned for a gala opening, not a riot."
"Hmmm," he grunted, taking a gulp from his glass. "Not bad. You'd think that would be motivation enough," he continued, "The comm system isn't down, I was able to communicate with my people in the Embassy - it uses the same relay ... they don't look the type to have something to prove."
The administrators' attempts to mollify the crowd were becoming increasingly inefficient. Fists flexed, and the crowd pressed tighter towards them, pinning them in. And more than a few of those pushing at the back were turning back towards the two ambassadors, busy maintaining diplomatic 'neutrality', before nudging companions and sending more furtive, angry glances their way. And then one of them spoke. "If it was one of them getting attacked, we wouldn't be able to move for fleet officers."
A Ferengi next to him agreed. "Command would get down here for you two quicker than these two useless lumps. Do something useful instead of necking kanar. You call them."
Rh'vaurek continued to lean casually against the bar. "Our friend here has a point, Tharek," he remarked, as he began to appraise those in the crowd who were beginning to pay attention to the diplomat's enclave at the bar. "Question is, do we let them strike first, or call for Federation 'assistance'?" to this last he added a disparaging cough.
"We could just do it ourselves. If we stood up for the people, that would give us a rather good political image on the station. A Cardassian and a Romulan, standing up for the people when the Federation can't." Tharek said, taking a large swig of his drink. "Exquisite." He exclaimed as he swallowed.
Before he straightened, Rh'vaurek touched his hand over the top of his glass as though he had been going to drain the pale blue liquid then changed his mind. "Together then," he said.
"Together. Cheers." Tharek spoke, as he swallowed all of the Kanar left in his glass.
As they made their slow approach Rh'vaurek spoke, he had very good hearing and would have heard the remark even if it had not been said in an overly loud tone, "Nobody needs to attack anyone," he said in flawless, unaccented Federation Standard, "we are as far down the list when it comes to assistance as you are, but we can help you."
Tharek stepped forward to acknowledge he was to speak next, he continued on from Rh'vaurek. "We can help relieve the pain, sorrow and misery these events have brought. We offer sympathy, where the Federation demand control. We give peace, where the Federation give chaos." He looked over to Rh'vaurek, for him to continue on.
"We can get you the assistance you require, as much, or as little as you want. All you have to do is ask for it."
"We are willing to help you all. I will offer up any spare space I have to people that have been left homeless. I will feed and clothe those that have none." Tharek looked over to Rh'vaurek, and nudged him with his eyes.
"Who is your spokesman?" Rh'vaurek asked. There was a very good chance that if they pushed too far, too soon with promises and platitudes that the crowd would turn. They needed to speak.
Bryan allowed Mercy to pull away slightly. The crowd had cooled down momentarily and he felt confident in Mercys ability to speak with them once again. As she stepped half a pace forward, he knew the crowd were ready to erupt again and he cursed under his breath, pushing a man to his right aside to afford himself a reach towards Mercy.
The crowd muttered amongst themselves for a moment, unsure now the focus was on something other than their rage. Even amongst themselves there didn't seem to be an agreement. either that or no-one wanted to identify themselves to the two diplomats. Random demands just floated out:
"Get Command down here"
"We want power back on level 1"
"Who's going to pay for repairs?"
"why weren't we warned?"
"Compensation! Loss of earnings!"
And more angry faces turned on Bryan and Mercy
"What aren't you doing anything?"
"How come we have to ask the Spoonhead and Slanty Eyebrows?"
"Why have you bothered coming, you don't care."
"You only do something when it suits you, or you can gain something from it. Your in bed with the fleeters!"
Rh'vaurek paused.
=^= Adams to Acting Ambassador Raedheol =^= she waited for a response. It seemed to be years before the few seconds passed until his reply came through.
"Doctor Adams," Rh'vaurek said with a glance at the uneasy crowd, "I'm in the middle of something."
=^= Yes, you are, more than you know my brother. When will you be free to talk? I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important. =^= she said all she *could* say on an open comm in a noisy place.
"I'm a bit busy. Listen," he said in a hushed tone, "do something for me, first contact Nahir i-Orinwen at the Consulate say - lyrr-t'ddreen as well as you can, and then contact your Starfleet friends and tell them that if they don't get a presence down here fast there will be a riot. Understood?"
=^= Down where? =^= Chelsea replied, bewildered. =^= What riot? What are you up to? =^=
"I'm in a bar, a lot of unsettled people. Two paper-pushers failing to keep a lid on the situation. After them, me and the Cardassian Ambassador are on the mob's list. I don't intend to give them a chance to tie that many nooses. DO as you're told and contact i-Orinwen, and your own people. Box of Delights. Now."
=^= I'm going to, right now. How could I until you told me where? =^= Adams cut the connection.
Mercy looked very pale indeed and felt even worse than she looked. It didn't help that this situation was getting out of hand. She looked at Bryan and felt braver.
"Please!" she tried to make herself heard. "This won't help anyone. You all have claims that need to be dealt with and we will do that but we can't do anything like this!"
Bryan as once again behind her and he moved slightly to her left.
The interruption was unwelcome, but it could work for them. "Don't speak for them," Rh'vaurek barked, "I asked for their spokesman, let them speak. Who represents you?"
"Don't talk to me like that!" a surly looking Bajoran stepped forward and pushed Rh'vaurek's shoulder. "You and your spoonhead buddy should get walking."
What is it with the male of this species, Rh'vaurek asked himself as he jerked his head to his shoulder then back to the man, "Did you touch me?" he asked, He was about the same height, civillian, and given the man's opinion of his fellow ambassador had probably spent some time actively fighting Cardassians. Rh'vaurek pushed back, "I don't fancy a walk."
The man swung a punch. Rh'vaurek moved aside and caught his wrist, twisting it and the Bajoran away from him. He followed through, crunching his free hand into his jaw before letting go. The Bajoran staggered, spitting blood then struck back, the misplaced blow catching Rh'vaurek's skull. As the man clutched his damaged hand Rh'vaurek grabbed his hair and shoved him into the nearest wall, "You tell the doctor exactly why your nose is smeared across your face," he hissed before releasing him.
As the Bajoran slumped to the floor Rh'vaurek turnd back to the room, "It pisses me off when people don't appreciate a genuine offer of assistance," he said to no-one in particular making it quite clear that he had pulled a disruptor from beneath his jacket and had no qualms whatsoever about using it.
The moment the Bajoran had stepped forward, Yolanthe had started moving, vaulting the counter top, though even as she slid across the marble surface she was no longer sure who's side she was on. Just as she knew the outcome of any fight she saw, she knew how it was going to end. She had moved to save the pretty Ambassador but before she was half way over, she knew that was not necessary, and the Bajoran was going to be a stain on her floor. By the time her feet hit the ground the Bajoran was gasping feebly. She kicked the disruptor away under the tongo tables, and put herself squarely between the two ambassadors and the mob, determined to prevent more violence, and fervently wishing she'd installed crowd suppression measures rather than chandeliers.
"What did you go and do that for," Rh'vaurek growled at the barkeeper, he was impressed, he had not seen the kick coming but that could wait. "Now we're unarmed. Great plan there."
"You are not 'unarmed'." She hissed back, then turned from him. She glared at the mob, her skin so pale yellow it was almost white. "Alright people, dial this back. They're offering to help. Don't make me bar people on my first night."
As a threat, it wasn't terribly effective. A human on the edge of the crowd was the first to move. He leaned over and smashed the bottom of his beer bottle out on a dabo table, and all hell broke loose.
TBC