Time Warriors Chapter 7

Argus VI was a small planet – it orbited a minor star in an insignificant star system, far away from the galactic core. Nevertheless, for all its ordinariness, it was about to become more important than any of its inhabitants ever dreamed.

Port City 4 was in the northern hemisphere of Argus VI, on the eastern edge of the major continent. It was situated next to a strange topographical anomaly called the Alerian Sink, one of several gaseous sinks found around the planet's equator. The city held the largest spaceport on Argus VI, and it was the political focal point and military command center for the planet. Large, modern buildings of all colors and sizes were clustered at the heart of its downtown, the tallest ones dominating the skyline. Moving away from the center of the city, towering structures gave way to long, low, warehouses – and finally, at its very fringe, a rugged desert connected the city with the sea. To all appearances, it seemed to be just an average metropolis on an average Class 2 planet.

But Port City 4 was different – it was schizophrenic, bordering on the psychotic.

It presented its best and brightest face to the politicians and diplomats housed in its inner city, showering them with culture and refinement, the best of civilized life. If shopping and cultural events weren't enough, the city also offered a large, galactic-class recreational resort for the use of its visitors.

Political power was another draw to Port City 4. It was a natural resource – something taken for granted by its visitors and carefully cultivated by its natives. It was power, after all, that brought people there – it was power that paid for people to stay there – and it was the siren call of power that insured people wanted to return. This side of the metropolis was beautiful and refined, with only a hint of corruption staining its edges.

Not every visitor, though, was a politician or a diplomat. Many were crewmembers from space freighters moored above the atmosphere at the orbiting space station. Shuttles moved back and forth between docking platforms and the Port City 4 spaceport, transporting crew and cargo to the planet's surface. Once shipments were unloaded and work crews released from duty, an entirely new clientele roamed the side streets and alleyways of the warehouse quarter. This side of the city was coarse, untamed, and rapacious, its violent nature gleefully exposed.

Spacer bars crowded next to each other, nondescript doorways bunched side to side that swallowed their patrons whole, belching wisps of smoke and odd, raucous sounds and smells. Off-duty Argarian soldiers were always in the district, paying no attention to anything except their own mercenary pursuits. Law enforcement was left in the hands of the individual. Offer the right price, and just about anything was available.

Nearly everyone who had been to Argus VI knew about or had seen the city's dual personalities. It was part of its charm, after all; the experience of high class elegance and civility, with an added dollop of danger for the adventurous. Very few natives or visitors, though, knew about the city's third face – the one hidden in the Alerian Sink. Had they understood that some of their highest political and military leaders were doing business with aliens that had a definite 'taste' for their kind, interspecies war would have been the next logical step.

"Hello? Hello, Mom? Are you there?"

Bulma was standing with her arms akimbo, frowning at the small platform in the corner of the great room. Her travel suit was creased and rumpled, and several stray pieces of fine blue hair straggled across her forehead, dipping into the furrow between her eyes. The Argarians showed the Earth delegation to their various suites in the heart of Port City, the most elegant of which had full holographic communication ability.

"Dad? I don't understand why this thing isn't working. What's the problem – are we doing something wrong?"

Turning to look at her father, Bulma saw Dr. Briefs hunched over a small computer terminal near the platform, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, the ash dipping precariously toward the keyboard. His fingers tapped out several intricate sequences as he squinted through his thick glasses at the screen, watching the figures slowly scroll.

"I don't know, Bulma – I told your mother to stand at these precise coordinates right at this time. I even put the platform in the corner of the kitchen, so she wouldn't have to go to the lab looking for it." He rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand, controlling the keyboard mouse with his right as his eyes searched the screen. "I just don't understand it. Can you see anything wrong?" he asked, turning his head to look at the Argarian liaison standing next to the console.

"It appears that everything has been set correctly, sir," Lieutenant Grant replied, scanning the output on the screen. "The power's there and the connection's open. There will be a short lag time between transmissions due to the distance, but that shouldn't—"

Suddenly a soft blue glow covered the platform's base, then pulled itself to the middle and shot vertically in the air. It immediately expanded, showing the translucent figure of a woman, shocked in mid-sentence, holding a large pitcher of something she was pouring off to the side. The liquid was flowing out of the pitcher into nothingness; apparently, the glass holding the liquid was not in the transmit range. It was a strange tableau.

"Oh, what a surprise!" the holographic woman squeaked, immediately straightening and smoothing back her blonde hair with her free hand. "I had no idea I'd be able to see you – can you see me, too? Oh, please pay no mind to the state of the kitchen. We've had guests ever since you left, and the robots haven't been able to keep up with all the laundry and the cooking and cleaning –"

"Mom—" Bulma started, but was cut off as her mother continued to chatter.

"—and this technology is simply amazing, isn't it?" While she was speaking she put the pitcher down outside of the transmission range; it appeared that her hands vanished for a moment, then reappeared. "Bulma, dear, I can see you plain as day, but I can't see your father – is he there? Did everyone make it there all right?"

"Well—" Bulma said, but again was cut off by her mother.

"—Everyone here is just fine, just wonderful. Bra is so bright and precocious, she's into everything – oh, she's just like you when you were young. It reminds me of the time when you decided to take apart one of our cleaning robots, just to see what made them work. Oh, I think you were about three or four at the time, and—"

"Mother, please," Bulma hissed, shaking her head and making cutting motions at the holograph, "don't tell that story."

"—well, you took that little ratchet of yours and—"

"What GOOD is a device where the other person can't even hear what you're saying? She doesn't even know we're trying to speak to her!" Bulma exploded, quickly turning to include her father and Lieutenant Grant in her wrathful glare, her face turning pink. "This is ridiculous!"

"Try asking her to stop talking for a moment," the lieutenant replied, momentarily taken aback by Bulma's brief display of temper. "There is a lag time between transmission signals, so—"

"—and it was just so cute when you stuck your hands on your hips and declared—"

"MOTHER, PLEASE STOP TALKING, FOR KAMI'S SAKE!" Bulma shrieked at the translucent woman, her body trembling with suppressed rage. "No one cares what I did when I was that young –"

"Oh, I do," immediately drawled a sarcastic baritone from across the room.

"What?!"

Bulma's head snapped around in that direction, her wide blue eyes narrowing in vexation as she watched Vejiita, Gokuu and Gohan amble across the marble floor toward her. Gokuu openly gawked at their fine surroundings, while Gohan was a bit more circumspect; however, his eyes still darted back and forth, lingering over some of the more extraordinary pieces of art displayed in the room. Vejiita, though, looked neither right nor left – his attention focused entirely on Bulma as he stopped at the computer table and smirked, his eyes dark and knowing as he folded his arms.

"So?" he prompted, nodding toward the holograph. "Don't you have something to say?"

She opened her mouth with an angry retort on the tip of her tongue, then thought better of it and turned to face the image of her mother. Even though it was transparent, Bulma could see that her likeness wore a puzzled, hurt look and was shaking her head slightly, hands clasped in front of her body. Guilt washed through her as she realized she had not only lost her temper, but had done it in front of everyone else – again.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you, Mom," Bulma sighed, momentarily closing her eyes. "You didn't hear me the first couple of times. It must have been the transmission lag, I guess. Let's try not to speak so quickly."

Mrs. Briefs stood still for a moment, her holographic image motionless on the platform. Then all at once she smiled and nodded vigorously, her short drop earrings bobbing with her head.

"I see what you mean, dear," she said briskly, smiling. "It took a little while for me to hear you that time. Well, then … why don't you tell us what has happened to you so far?"

"What does she mean – 'us?'" Gohan murmured to his father as they looked at the holograph. "I thought she was alone. Except for Bra, I suppose …"

"I dunno," Gokuu whispered back, staring at the holograph with unfeigned interest. "This is great! Did you see how much food was in the kitchen? And look!" he hissed excitedly, pointing. "It's Bulma's mom! Wow, can she see us?" Gokuu started waving both hands and grinning broadly. "Hey – we're over here! Hi! How are you?"

Vejiita looked at the younger man, shook his head in exasperated disbelief and shrugged his shoulders. "On Earth an idiot, everywhere an idiot."

"Who else is there with you, Mother?" Bulma asked, raising her voice a bit.

An expression of delight spread across Mrs. Briefs' face as she responded, "Well! It took a bit of doing, but nearly everyone is here, and I couldn't be happier. Once I explained how you'd be calling every now and then, and that parts of your new machine were here, and that things would get sent back and forth between us – well, it was amazing! Now someone is always here with me!"

"You told Mom that we were going to send 'things' back and forth?" Bulma asked, looking sidelong at her father, incredulous.

Dr. Briefs cleared his throat. "Um … well … I had to tell her something, Bulma …"

"Yes, but Dad …"

Lieutenant Grant stood next to Dr. Briefs, his blue eyes glued to the computer screen, ostensibly studying the output from the connection but listening carefully to what people said around him. You can't send 'things' through a holographic connection, so they must have plans to use their own equipment here, he reasoned. Sliding his gaze across the console, he noticed a nondescript large bag sitting next to the holograph base unit.

Fascinating, he thought. That's just about the size I'd expect for some type of disassembled portable machine … and they told everyone else their equipment was still in their spacecraft … so that means that—

"See anything you like?" a voice purred in his ear.

Startled, the lieutenant instinctively pulled himself away from the computer console to find himself nearly nose to nose with Vejiita. Even though he was shorter than Grant, his physical presence was extraordinarily intimidating as he leaned forward and glared directly into the officer's eyes. Grant swore silently and forced himself to stand his ground.

Mrs. Briefs' voice floated through the air as the men stared at each other: "… Goten's just at the refrigerator again. Goten, dear, come over and say hi to everyone on Argus … and Bulma, pull Trunks over so Goten can see him – he's been so lonely lately … do you know that he's the strongest person on Earth since everyone else left? Well, except for Juuhachi, I suppose … "

"Well?" the prince said softly, an aura of power surrounding him as he continued to stare at Grant, his arms folded across his chest.

"I … no sir, no, not at all," he stammered back, momentarily disconcerted, instinctively reaching for his gun.

Vejiita saw the movement and raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Don't let me stop you," he said, nodding to Grant's hand. "But you'll only have one chance."

Dr. Brief took that moment to push his chair away from the computer table, slamming into the lieutenant's legs and pushing him to the side.

"Oh … pardon me, pardon me," Dr. Briefs said, dismayed, rising from his chair to offer a hand to Grant. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, yes, I'm fine, thank you, sir," the lieutenant said, waving the doctor off as he massaged his injured leg. "No harm done – there's no problem, no problem at all."

"Ah … well, then …" Dr. Briefs said, his quicksilver attention being drawn back to the computer console readouts, "thank you for showing us how to operate the equipment, Lieutenant… ah … Lieutenant …ah …" said Dr. Briefs, stumbling over the officer's name.

"Grant, sir. Lieutenant Grant," he offered, relieved that something other than Vejiita claimed his attention as he backed away from the computer console and turned toward the door of the apartment. "And now … if you won't be needing me any more …"

"Ah, yes … Grant," said Dr. Briefs absently, his attention pulled back to the equipment in front of him as he sank back into his chair. "No, no, no problem … see you later …"

"Thank you, sir," he said respectfully, bowing slightly toward Bulma and her father. "If you require anything else, please don't hesitate to call me. We are pleased to serve you, and wish to make your stay on Argus as pleasant as possible." Staring at Vejiita again, Grant backed into the door, then simultaneously pushed his weight against it and twisted the door handle, escaping into the building corridor. The door closed softly behind him with a barely audible click.

Gokuu looked over at the smaller Saiyan with a puzzled expression. "Why'd you do that, Vejiita?" Gokuu asked, bewildered. "Why'd you scare him like that?"

"Because I don't like him, I don't trust him, and I don't want him around," Vejiita rejoined shortly, lowering his eyebrows at Gokuu. "Is that good enough for you?"

"I don't trust him either," a voice rumbled from the opposite end of the room. As Gokuu and Vejiita turned, Piccolo and Kuririn walked across the cool marble tiles from the kitchen. Piccolo was scowling fiercely at the door.

"That means that you agree with Vejiita," Kuririn muttered to the green man while they walked toward the other warriors. "You never agree with Vejiita."

The Namek snorted. "There's a first time for everything, I suppose," he said, nodding to Gokuu, Gohan and Vejiita as they reached the small group. "I'm just as surprised as you are."

"Well?" the prince demanded, glaring at Piccolo.

"Don't rush me," Piccolo rumbled with a frown. "I was watching him from the other room. There is something about that man I don't like. It's obvious that he has other things on his mind other than just greeting us and giving us shelter here. He bears watching."

"Gee, I dunno, guys, he seemed fine to me," Gokuu said, rubbing the back of his neck as his forehead puckered. "Nervous, I guess – but hey – who wouldn't be with Vejiita staring at them?" He grinned lopsidedly at his own joke. Vejiita rolled his eyes and shook his head in despair.

"You're much too trusting, Gokuu," Kuririn said, looking past Gokuu toward the holograph platform. "People are out for all sorts of things. You can't trust everyone all the time – you just have to get tough, that's all."

Gokuu shrugged good-naturedly. "Whatever you say, Kuririn. You're probably right."

Following Kuririn's gaze to the back of the room, Vejiita grunted and said, "Heh. So that machine actually works. I'm surprised."

"What? Bulma's machine? But that's not Bulma's invention, Vejiita," Gohan said, looking at the older Saiyan. "That's just the holograph platform. Bulma's stuff is over there, in that bag. She hasn't connected it yet."

"I don't need—" Vejiita started to snarl at Gohan, but was interrupted by Bulma's call.

"Gohan! Get over here – Videl's waiting for you, and we can't keep this connection open forever!"

"Oh!"

Relief flew across his face as Gohan literally leaped over to the console to see Videl's image waiting shyly for him. Gokuu grinned at his son's eagerness as he watched him bound across the room and skid to an abrupt halt in front of the platform, grabbing Trunks' shoulder and nearly falling into the transmitting beam.

As she watched Gohan push Trunks out of the way and slide into the beam to speak with Videl, Bulma chuckled. Turning to her father, she said offhandedly, "I think we're going to need a larger range when we're using the holograph, so that everyone can see everyone else in the beam. Plus, we're going to need several more odds and ends to readjust our own machinery. I also think we'll have to get a few more pieces of equipment from the Argarians." Thrusting her chin in Vejiita's direction, she raised her voice a bit and said, "That should be no problem. There are plenty of people here who can take me, aren't there?"

"Take you where, woman?" Vejiita scowled, still annoyed because she had interrupted his 'conversation' with Gohan.

"We need more parts for the machines," she responded, a mocking smile touching her lips. "And that means that you'll have to take me –"

Kuririn stopped in his tracks where he heard what Bulma had said, a horrified look in his eyes. Almost immediately, a collective groan came from the rest of the warriors as they realized what they were going to have to do. Anything was preferable to that – in fact, in their minds, fighting Buu was preferable to –

"—shopping!" Bulma finished, cackling at the senshi.

The warehouse district boasted the oldest buildings in the city: in fact, the oldest buildings on the planet were there. Settlers from other worlds in the Argarian system landed on Argus VI centuries ago and found no indigenous sentient life – the desert and ocean fauna and flora were untouched - so decided to build their own colonies there. The Port cities had been the first establishments on the planet. While Port Cities 1, 2, and 3 eventually fell into disrepair and disappeared, Port City 4 flourished – due, in no small part, to its location next to the Alerian Sink.

As they wandered through the twisted alleyways of the warehouse district, Theo and Allyssa heard about one of those historic structures. It used its age as its guarantee that it served the 'best ghee west of the Alerian Sink.'

"That sounds like a challenge to me," said Allyssa with a twinkle in her eye. "Let's go find this place."

They took about ten minutes to find that particular bar. Theo's method was to pop her head into a building, take in a lungful of air and have a quick look around, then pop back outside again.

"What are you doing?" Allyssa asked the third time Theo came out of a bar empty-handed.

"I refuse to drink in a place that doesn't smell right," she said, sniffing at the Gant's obvious utter lack of sensibilities.

Allyssa snorted, twisting her face into a grimace. "Who are you kidding, Princess? You're the one who sucks ghee straight from the bottle – what does it matter what the place smells like?"

Theo became frosty. "It matters," she said between clenched teeth, tossing her dark hair back from her face. "If I'm going to drink, I'm damn well going to be comfortable. I'm not drinking in a place that smells like … that smells bad. Besides," she added sullenly, "I'm looking for something else, too."

Allyssa shrugged. Two more bars later, Theo had found one that was satisfactory – not only did it pass her "smell test," it was the bar that advertised it served the 'best ghee west of the Alerian Sink.'

"See? I told you so," Theo said smugly. "And it even has an old Earth style pool table. We can play pool – or whatever the local game is here."

"What's this 'we' business?" Allyssa said, arching one eyebrow at her. "Do we want to make money, or not?"

"Oh … right," Theo said, grinning up at her. "You play – I'll lure the customers and test the quality of the ghee."

Theo and Allyssa had been inside the bar for several standard hours, playing pool, drinking ghee and chatting with the bartender. Allyssa leaned casually against the pool table and scanned the bar, looking for her next mark.

"We could use a little more of that 'coercion' talent of yours to get these guys to play," murmured Allyssa to Theo quietly as she chalked her cue.

"Your wish is my command," Theo said. She scanned the bar for new faces, then briefly closed her eyes.

Almost as if called, a large military type person seated at the opposite end of the bar stood up, walked over to the table and gestured at Allyssa, challenging her. She nodded slightly toward Theo, who grinned drunkenly up at the soldier and held out her hand. Grunting, he dug into his back pocket, pulled out a wad of bills and slapped them on her palm.

Can he play pool at all? Allyssa thought. She could not send her thoughts, but if Theo brushed her mind, Theo could read what was there and respond. She and Theo had been communicating with each other that evening using that method.

Didn't check … just thought you wanted a warm body, Theo replied. Allyssa could tell that Theo had been drinking pretty heavily; her thoughts were heavy and thick, and she had absolutely no finesse when she accessed Allyssa's mind. It felt more like clumsy mental fingers poking inside her head. Not unpleasant, just … fumbling.

The Gant gave the soldier an easy smile. He grunted again and reached for a pool cue hanging on the wall; as he stretched over the table, Allyssa swiftly took his measure. Not too tall, not too old, and rather humanoid – meaning that he probably wasn't as intellectually dull as the group of Cronch standing next to the bar. Just your average human male out to prove his prowess.

Of course, Theo did give him a push to get him here – but he wouldn't do anything he didn't want to, she reasoned. The Cronch drinking at the bar had responded reasonably well to Theo's prodding, too; they were just sullen and bad-tempered now because each of them lost to Allyssa.

Stupid things, she thought maliciously. They're lucky they remember to breathe most of the time.

"Heh – so are you going to do anything, or are you just going to stand there and look pretty?" Theo jeered at the solider. She was sitting at a small table with a large amount of half eaten wings and a huge glass of ghee, leaning on the table with her chin in her hand, her eyes half closed.

They flipped a coin; Allyssa won the toss and leaned across the table to make the first strike. Crack! went the cueball against the racked balls. As perfectly as if she had asked, the one, three, five and seven all rolled to their own separate pockets and gently fell in.

The soldier stood there, his mouth agape, not believing his eyes.

Allyssa straightened up and studied the table. "Nine – left corner pocket. Eleven – side pocket. Thirteen – right corner pocket," she said, businesslike, pointing out the striped balls and their respective corners.

The soldier snorted. "Double or nothing says that won't happen. You were just lucky before."

"Really?" murmured Allyssa, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. You haven't seen luck yet, buddy. "Let's find out."

Normally she would have tried to push him into playing several games, but the soldier's attitude annoyed Allyssa. She gave him another beautiful smile, smoothly aimed the cue and lightly smacked the cueball. The white ball danced among the solids and the stripes, banking several times, and by the time it came to rest the balls that Allyssa had pointed out were sitting safely in their respective pockets.

"I just love watching her play pool," declared Theo, smiling nastily at Allyssa's competitor. "Don't you?"

The soldier just glowered at both of them and growled "I quit" to no one in particular, forcefully tossing his cue on the table. He dug deeply into his pocket, pulled out another fistful of bills and threw them, uncounted, at Theo's face before stalking away.

Theo laughed and picked up the fluttering currency, thumbing through it with an obviously satisfied expression. A faint chorus of "I told you so," along with masculine laughter, came from the direction of the bar. Allyssa sauntered away from the table, put the pool cue away and joined Theo.

"So how much is there?" asked Allyssa. She was in an exuberant mood

"Enough that we won't have to beg for food on the street for quite a few days," Theo responded, chortling. She gave the half the stack to Allyssa, who quietly put it in her inside vest pocket, before stowing the balance in her hip pocket and slumping back in her chair, satisfied. "I want some more ghee. Let's get the bartender over here."

"Why don't you finish what you have in front of you first?" suggested Allyssa, eyeing the glass on the table.

"Oh….sure, why not?" Theo smirked, drained her glass in one gulp, and slammed it down on the table. "Feel better? I certainly do," and she chortled at her own joke. "Now I'm going to get some more ghee."

"Theo … I think you've had enough for a while," Allyssa warned, watching Theo slide out of her chair and stumble to her feet.

"Oh … I'm fine, Ally. Really, I am. Besides, it looks like someone else wants to play you." As she stood next to their table, clutching the edge with her left hand just to keep her balance, she waved vaguely as another spacer walked over to Allyssa. "I'll see you in a minute."

"Fine. Don't get lost. The bar's over there," Allyssa said, thinking she'll be fine – if she falls on her face, at least I'll know where she is. Turning to look at her new challenger, she said, "Want a game?"

"Only if you're good," he drawled, stopping next to the pool table. "And if you've got cash."

She took in his appearance quickly – a soiled jumpsuit, eyes gray and flinty, hair the same color, large gunbelt – definitely a spacer, possibly on his own. "Don't worry, bud," Allyssa retorted, grabbing her cue from the wall and chalking it. "I only play for money – and if you bore me, I'll end it real quick. You won't feel a thing, except your money leaving your pocket."

The man stared at her and slowly nodded, then racked the balls. Allyssa noticed his hands were steady and strong, lined and creased, but scrupulously clean.

Heh – maybe this one can actually play, she thought, narrowly watching him. That'd be exciting. She pushed her thoughts about being responsible and looking after Theo to the back of her head as she concentrated on the man in front of her, watching him flick the chalk around the jointed cue magically produced from his jumpsuit, feeling his eyes on her.

Allyssa smiled and offered the coin for the toss.

Theo stumbled to the bar, grinning stupidly. She was feeling absolutely no pain; the voices in her head weren't there, she felt as happy and giggly as she had when she was a young girl, she had money in her pocket, and her best friend in the world was having fun toasting people at pool.

At least she thought she was her best friend in the world. Looking at the other woman out of the corner of her eye, Theo had the nagging feeling that there had been someone else – someone else at another time that used to go drinking with her.

Who – who was it? she wondered, stopping to catch her balance as she ran the thought through her mind thick and slow with liquor. Long red hair – and laughing, always laughing – but … and her mind burped and jiggled, pushing her into another batch of memories, …but there was screaming … and she was burned, horribly burned … Beryan …

Abruptly her mind shut off those memories, pushing them as far down in her consciousness as they would go, keeping the pain at bay.

"Kami, I need a drink," she groaned as she shuffled up to the bar, pushing herself through the crowd and waving to get the eye of the bartender. She pulled herself up on a high stool with graceless ease and gripped the edge of the bar to keep herself from falling on her face.

"Another ghee?" the bartender asked, popping up in front of her. He was a large man with a broad face, long, black hair and dark eyes; kind, Theo thought. But then, everyone looks wonderful to you when you're like this, she thought wryly. Especially when they're giving you drinks.

A glass as tall as her forearm and nearly twice as thick slid neatly into her hand. As she reached into her pocket to pay for the drink, the bartender waved his hand at her.

"Keep your money," he rumbled, jerking his head toward the knot of Cronch hovering at the end of the bar. "They bought it for you."

"Really?" Theo beamed at them, and the closest raised his glass and nodded at her, his teeth gleaming in the barlight. "That was awfully nice."

The bartender regarded her somberly; shaking his head slightly, he put his hands on the bar and leaned toward her. "Listen, girlie," he muttered, looking straight at her, "I'd watch my step if I were you. Cronch don't do favors for anyone, especially those Cronch. Take your drink and go back to your friend over there."

Theo snorted; 'girlie,' indeed! "I can take care of myself," she said, an arrogant note creeping into her voice. "You don't have to worry about me. In fact, I think I'll go over and thank them myself." I have such good ideas sometimes, she thought, congratulating herself for being clever enough to think of that.

"Suit yourself," the bartender said, watching her slither from the high stool to the floor. "But I warned you. They eat little girls like you for snacks."

"I am NOT little!" Theo snarled, glaring at him as she snatched her ghee from the bar. "I'm probably older than you and your grandmother put together, and I've been practically everywhere in this galaxy. Now piss off!"

Keep your stupid opinions to yourself, she thought angrily as she tossed her head and stalked over to the Cronch at the end of the bar. I can take care of myself … I've been doing it for long enough, for Kami's sake.

As she drew near the aliens, a wave of contempt washed over her. Besides, these Cronch are morons. They can barely button their own shirts, let alone trap someone like me. I could *think* them to death, if I had to. Heh.

Armed with nothing but pride and chutzpah, Theo walked to the largest Cronch in the group, put her hand on his huge arm and asked, "Whom do I need to thank for this lovely drink? You?" She turned a brilliant smile on him, pushing every watt of charm into it she could muster. Her body melted against his suggestively as she slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. Unconscious coercive power surrounded her, causing all the Cronch to stop their conversations and look at her.

The larger Cronch stared at her, his crest flexing on top of his head as his eyes narrowed in appreciation. "Ah. Well, if it wasn't me, it is now – and believe me, you are entirely welcome." Gesturing toward the small tables near the bar, he said, "Would you care to have a seat? We both have our ghee to finish, and it's quite comfortable over there …"

"Why, I'd love to," Theo replied, a large, flirtatious smile on her face. See, she thought smugly, I can take care of myself – I don't need anyone else, as she walked toward the back of the bar with the alien.

The Cronch turned her toward the tables next to the rear exit, beckoning his men to flank and follow them, his eyes reflecting an angry, hard gleam in the murky light.