Beka glances from face to face, part of her recording in memory each person present, part of her looking for someone to rescue her. She spots the woman easily enough - she's the only face in the crowd that doesn't slip away like a half-remembered dream. She tries not to look pleading.

When she opens her mouth to speak all that comes out in a squeak. She clears her throat and manages to sound professional.

"Clear- clear the area, please. All of you, about your business!"