The security chief got up, glared at the men and women who had accompanied us, came over to me, and took that stun pistol from my hand. He eyebrows went up as he returned the setting to "stun".
"Why does your... your 'administrative assistant',"he asked gruffly, "carry a pulse dart weapon? They're illegal on this station."
"And cutter beams and blasters are not?" I retorted facetiously.
The chief nodded sourly. "Your were expecting this kind of trouble?" he asked. "Your aide was very good, very very good. Is someone trying to kill you or was this all some kind of publicity stunt?"
Publicity stunt? I crossed my legs in my dress and smoothed it in front of me. "How many dead?" I asked grimly. Publicity stunt? How stupid could he be?
"Three of them, two security and one service provider at the scene. That's six in all," he said, "and this is just in from the men who went into the alleys, two more bodies in a disposal unit on the work level below where you were. Descriptions of armor and weapons match the men who shot at you."