"No." Terenia says, speaking up abruptly to the Hork-Bajir newcomer. Her own hand makes its way to her right holster, gripping her Dracon Beam firmly in case he decides to draw his. "We do not need your assistance...Dara." She brushes a bit of blonde hair from her face with her free hand and jerks her head back towards the bar, "You will likely find any number of disasters back that way though. Feel free to be as helpful as you want."
----
Tamora, in the bar, falls back into an uneasy silence. Prince Ronny's presence isn't the only thing making her uncomfortable. She is beginning to wonder where the bounty hunter had disappeared to and whether Myitt or Terenia or Ossanlin would ever return. It would be difficult to exact revenge on phantoms. The Director's perpetual cheerfulness only seems to put her more on edge.
----
On his ship, Trey is on his back, wedged beneath a computer console that is spewing irrational images and sounds. Every few minutes small sparks shoot up from the console, and Trey winces from his position until they die out. His bandage has come loose, sticking to his head only by a bit of coagulated blood, and his face is covered in grime as he works to fix the device.
"Almost..." he mutters in Galard, hooking two wires together. Immediately the place erupts in a fierce shower of madly dancing sparks, blue-white demons that rain upon the ship and quickly find spilled fuel to feed them. The entire skyline seems to briefly light up from the demons, which quickly die down and turns into the low thrum of a steadily building fire.
"Uh-oh..." Trey says, pushing himself out from under the console. His one-piece uniform catches on an exposed piece of metal, tearing it from his hip to chest and taking a good amount of skin with it. He cries out in pain, but his cries are immediately swallowed by thick black smoke that forces its way down his throat. He devolves into a fit of coughing, struggling to draw air from a ship that is rapidly becoming a vacuum.
