T'risa smirked, she had her own mental images, but she didn't let any bleed into her own mental broadcast. "Are we done shopping here? If so we'll move on to the next major component of our shopping. Shielding technology. I don't know how much time we'll need for this, but I need protection. With all the trouble we get in to, I'm going to try for shielding for all of us."

Elsbeth appeared to space out for a few moments as her frontal cortex processed the flashes of imagery that Balkiir projected into her mind.  She alternately raised a confused eyebrow, flashed a dopey smile and nodded with satisfaction throughout the cascade of images.  Invariably, the nods and smiles came from those images that displayed mostly the large Valkiir male's incredibly-toned and unadorned physique.  Her tastes seemed uncomplicated and relatively unrefined in that way; the tall, artificially-cultivated Praetorian was quite simple when it came to clothing.  Well, as simple as any woman can really be.

She glanced in T'risa direction, the Marshal having become very popular in the past couple of minutes.  There were now no less than six individuals (if you counted the proprietor, Arla) clustered there.  And one of them was a ... "bug..." Elsbeth exhaled and jostled Balkiir gently to get his attention - a sort of, 'what do you make of that?' gesture and tone.  The approach of the Omeadan male and his companion - who moved like a bodyguard - had not triggered any alarms - for neither T'risa nor M'kira had really reacted (well, more than with amusement).

But, when the woman that Elsbeth might eventually come to know as Nyssa deliberately interposed herself between the creature that Elsbeth might eventually come to know as Twitch and her male charge, the raven-haired Praetorian was already intently watching.  Her body was very still - yet the tension palpable, which Balkiir knew meant that she was on edge.  As if her thoughts hadn't already betrayed that fact.