Mission of Mercy

 Episode Name:  Mission of Mercy

   Written By:  Eidolon

         Cast:  Dirha, Eidolon, Gro'th'aak, Jatila, Khitra, 
                Kisa, Nertora, Randal, Taimol and Torata.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Eidolon

     Aired On:  Mon Sep 27 00:04:22 2004

     Stardate:  54417.1

Time: Sun Sep 26 16:28:01 2004

Stardate: 54416.4

The Sandstorm flickers with lightning, billowing clouds of plasma and dust covering a large portion of the darkness that Korolev Station floats in.

The station itself twinkles with light and bustles with activity -- USS Merrimac and USS Discovery slowly circle the station, keeping watch over the precious cargo within.

In the midst of this all creeps up a rusted hulk of a freighter, with bold Ferengi script proclaiming its name as 'The 62nd Rule'.

The interior matches the visual impression given by the exterior. There are dripping pipes, odd sounds, and rather creative scents eminating from all corners of this vessel. Of course, she is the pride and joy of her captain -- a rather stout Ferengi that barely reaches five feet in height that goes by the name of Frak.

"We're here, hew-mon," the puny Ferengi mutters to Randal, gesturing at the static-filled screen at the front of the bridge. "Korolev Station, as promised." He lowers his voice considerably, adding, "I will take fifteen percent off the price if you can convince the pointy-eared fee-male to... ah... provide -other- services to myself." He makes a meaningful gesture to his rather considerable lobes.

Khitra has arrived.

Randal glances over at Frak and flashes him a grin. "Ah... well. I wouldn't want to short-change you on either your payment, or the... ah, challenge, of bargaining with her yourself." He leans in toward the Ferengi and says, quietly and conspiratorily, "Part of the excitement in pursuing a warrior woman is the hunt, you know." It should be noted he very studiously avoids making eye contact with Jatila at this point.

. o O Randal thinks "Yeah. Challenge. You'd have better luck going toe-to-toe with a Borg cube in this ship, Frak. Good luck."

A touch excited, Kisa fidgets in anxiously waiting to arrive. Hands smooth down over the length of her gown before hiking the strap to her frenikan and satchel further up her shoulder. Wide eyes look upon the Korolev Station from the viewport she stands near but all this briefly is interrupted in overhearing conspiratorial whispers. Antennae twitch, cheeks flush faintly, and her head tilts slightly towards Jatila as though to weigh her reaction.

Near the bridge door, her arms folded across her chest as she leans back against a dubiously dry spot on the wall, Jatila quirks an eyebrow. Having spent the journey alternately ignoring and glaring in a particular Cardassian's direction, and now being handed a target for her ire on a platter, she smoothly bends to draw a gleaming dagger from her boot. "You wish your ears removed, Ferengi?" she inquires amicably. "That is an acceptable bargain."

Nertora folds his hands behind, him his face in a schooled mask of diplomatic neutrality. Dark eyes surveying the area and ongoings. The diplomat does seem faintly amused at the ferenghi's insinuation, and the Romulan's response. Other than that amidst any glares and distasteful looks he retains his mask of cool indifference.

Taimol bustles in from the back, consulting a PADD. "Replicators... medical kits... emergency rations... bedding... hmm, yes. I believe everything is in order." He pauses to allow his eyes to adjust to the dimness, noticing the dagger in Jatila's hand. "Well. I see we're all getting along famously!" he notes enthusiastically, even if he looks doubtful.

. o O Taimol thinks "I don't want to know. I -really- don't want to know."

Dirha shakes his head, smiles rather serenely, and moves to place his stocky little self between the tall Romulan and the Ferengi. He says, "Hey, come on, aren't we kind of busy for this?"

Torata comes following along behind, carrying some of his own luggage on a little hand cart. This consists mostly of pots, pans, and cooking implements, along with a thin black metal case on top, next to a small black wooden case. He looks over towards Jatila and the Ferengi with a raised brow, "I think a simple no would likely have sufficed."

Khitra steps into view carrying a neat box and humming to herself. The humming stops as she regards the hubbub with the knife; she heads over to Taimol's side.

Undaunted, Frak unleashes his very best toothy smile at Jatila. Besides, there's a rather convenient Bajoran shield between him and instant death at the moment. "If cutting is a euphemism for oo-mox, then yes. Otherwise... we may have to speak to an arbitrator for proper recompensation." With that said, he tugs on his cheap jacket and tabs the hailing controls. "Korolev Station, this is the luxury liner Sixty-Second Rule, requesting permission to land in one of your docking bays."

A rather dry Starfleet officer comes back over the comms. "You are cleared to land in bay three. Your reactor looks a bit thready, though... please avoid powering it beyond eighty percent while in our airspace. Korolev Station out."

Frak mutters an obscenity in Ferengi, then snaps at the Ferengi at the helm, "Land us!" In response, the ship lurches sickeningly to the right and begins its approach.

Randal glances toward Jatila as he notices the flash of the blade on the edge of his vision. He gives her a grimacing sort of smile in consolation. He then turns to look at the flickering view on the main screen during Frak's communications. After the channel is closed he makes a 'huff' sort of noise and comments with slight disdain, "Starfleet. They think they can give everybody orders, don't they?" He makes a sort of instinctive grab for the nearest support as the barge's captain gives the landing order, making himself prepared for the inevitable lurch the ship makes. Glancing back toward Taimol after the maneuver, he says, "Well, we're just about there. Anything I can help you with over on the station? I know my contract simply stated to help you get the supplies here, but there's no reason I can't chip in since I'm here anyway."

Kisa's hand lays upon the frame to the viewport, steadying herself while the ship lurches towards the dock. The tiny race of butterflies within her stomach rapidly flutters until she ever so softly starts to sing beneath her breath; a serene tune that few can hear except those up close. Kisa whispers to herself, "Gently gliding in the night." She ruefully shakes her head in hearing the interplay between folks. Kisa whispers to herself, "Ushaani long would settle that, but..we're almost there."

Jatila sighs softly, replacing her weapon in its sheath, and mutters something about the 19th Rule of Acquisition. (Hanging out with Lux really does have its advantages.) She offers Dirha a little smile and shakes her head- the gesture is meant to be reassuring- and grabs for a bulkhead when the ship lurches, looking around quickly toward Torata.

Nertora continues to keep an eye on things, retaining his air of mild indefference as he awaits the ferenghi craft to take the ship in. He does glance about though finally having to turn his shoulders a bit to keep an eye on the rest of the group gauging reactions to the....altercation.

Taimol offers a grateful smile to Jatila as she puts her knife away, and lets a warm one loose for Khitra. "I was actually hoping you'd take the lead on a group, Captain. I thought it may be more efficient for us to work in two groups, rather than just one."

. o O Taimol bubbles with warmth and good cheer.

Dirha doesn't seem to preturbed by the lurching, though he sets the head of his broom to the deckplates to steady himself. He smiles a warm and sunny smile at Jatila, evidently grateful.

Torata reaches out a hand to keep the little case from sliding off the rest of his goods, and then shifts that to a position under his arm, tucking the smaller box into a pocket in his robes. And then he gives Jatila a small wave, smiling.

Khitra yelps softly, leaning over to brace herself against a chair. "Oof. It's been a while."

The freighter comes to a rather rough halt on the docking bay floor. On the screen, a group of Nausicaans can be seen milling about one side of the bay, while a far smaller group of Romulans is on the opposite end.

Frak turns to face Randal again. "We'll remain here until you decide to leave, as per our agreement. Remember, use of our antigrav sleds is fifteen slips of latinum per day."

. o O Khitra thinks "Let's try not to fall on our rear, Khitra."

Randal glances over at Frak, giving him an amused smile and saying, "Yes, yes... I'm keeping a very close eye on running expenses, don't worry." With a brief chuckle, he looks back to Taimol. "Very well. So, what's first on our to-do list, anyway? Offloading supplies, I imagine?"

The jerk into port sends Kisa's feet, one after the other. A bit of a stumble draws her backwards until her hand latches onto the hull for balance. She lightly smiles, flush rises in embarrassment, yet she inches towards the exit while listening to cues as to where everyone should go.

Jatila straightens carefully, retaining her balance, and leans forward to peer out the viewport. Absently she chews on the corner of her bottom lip toward the Romulans that can be seen- the Nausicaans are pretty much ignored- and looks toward Taimol for his answer to Thorne.

Nertora leans over a bit bracing his feet finding something to grip as he watches the the rest continuing to keep his quiet as he glances towards Taimol along with the rest to see what's first another amused glance towards the ferenghi.

"Undoubtedly, Captain," Edan replies, bobbing his head. "That, and making contact with the people here. They've been through a lot; kind words and a helping hand will undoubtedly go a long way toward easing their minds."

Dirha turns to look at Taimol attentively, still smiling. He flips his broom up over his shoulder and says, "So where shall I start!" The kid is eager to get to work.

Torata just remains quiet for now, leaning up against his luggage. The things going on outside don't seem to concern him at all, he's watching the people inside quietly.

Khitra straightens up, looking from Randal to Taimol and smiling a little. She picks up her box again.

Frak opens the airlock, and then he and his Ferengi crew melt into the woodwork. After all, they're not being paid for this part. The people outside start to move closer to the ship, although the strict racial division between the Nausicaans and Romulans continues.

"Okay," Randal says as he makes his way toward the cargo area where the supplies are being kept. "How are we splitting up? I assume one team will be circulating among the Nausicaans, while the other takes the Romulans. Unless you had specific arrangements in mind, I'll work with the Nausicaans, myself. I'll have a better rapport with them, then the Romulans, I wager."

Kisa peers over the various faces outside, hunting for a particular one especially on the Nausicaan's side. Near her feet, she picks up a box from the pile and carries towards the station's entry from the ship.

Jatila turns, her eyes going to where she last saw Frak... and shuts her mouth as he disappears. Frowning slightly, she shrugs, and turns with a faint chuckle for Thorne's words. "It is fairly obvious who I will be working with. Vedek, I warn you, they will be suspicious. I would, in their place."

Nertora looks somewhat ill at ease when he's not the one being primarily ignored. He waits a moment than turning towards Taimol offers, "If you wish, Vedek, I could accompany whoever is going to meet with those here. I am trained in diplomacy, though my race may give pause to those if I were the primary speaker." He offers politely.

Taimol offers a slight grin. "We're counting on you to help defuse some of that suspicion," he replies softly to Jatila. "Working with the Nausicaans will be Captain Thorne, Prylar Dirha, and Mister Torata; Khitra, Jatila, and I with the Romulans. Miss Dra, Ambassador -- you may work with either group as you see fit, or you may shuttle back and forth and speak to the various groups. Is that equitable to everyone?"

Dirha just grins at Taimol and nods. He takes a few quick steps towards Randal. Grouping up.

Torata leaves the bulk of his goods where they are, taking the small case he has tucked under his arm as he walks over to stand next to Randal. He looks the man over briefly, and then says, "I think that is suitable."

Khitra nods to Taimol and Jatila, heading for the exit. "Sounds good to me."

Randal gives a nod as his group gathers up. "Sounds like a plan." He focuses his attention on Dirha and Torata. "Alright. Well, let's start by moving the first set of supplies to the airlock. Before we move anything out of the ship, though, we should make sure things stay... organized." He grimaces slightly. "Don't want to make any assumptions but we want to make sure some sort of frenzy doesn't break out while we're trying to get things situated. Vedek," he says, looking toward Taimol, "we do have enough supples for everyone out there, right? We might want to make absolutely sure. Just that things get nasty if it becomes apparant that things are 'first come, first serve.'"

Jatila shakes her head slightly, heading for the hangar floor. "To do that... Well. I may say some things that sound... strange. In advance- no offense intended." She ducks out of the airlock, moving toward the Romulan contingent, her stride and bearing strong and confident, as befits a citizen of the Romulan Star Empire. It's not as if she'd be carrying supplies- that's a job fit for lesser species.

Nertora inclines his head, "Very well, that is quite acceptable. I will do my best to help out how I can." He offers lightly, "Perhaps one of the groups should go out and meet with them, and check on those numbers while the other makes a final check of what's being brought. We wouldn't want to lose anything." An innocent glance towards where the ferengi busy themselves.

"I've taken the liberty of having everything divided up equally," Edan notes as he enters the cargo bay. "Each group has five replicators, and ten pallets of emergency rations, medical kits, and housing supplies." A curious sort of grin follows Jatila as she exits, and then he gestures to the pallets. "The only thing that we do not have enough of is replicators. The budget I was assigned didn't allow for a large amount of them."

Content with his status as a lesser species, Dirha nods to Randal, then listens to Edan. "We should ask them about the best way to make sure the replicators get shared, and help them organize to self-police against hoarding." Now to Randal he asks, "Should I start offloading, then?"

Torata looks back and forth between Taimol, Dirha, and Randal. "I am not sure I have ever seen a group of Nausicaans listen politely to a lecture on sharing. And I would point out that I have never dealt with starving Nausicaans. Hungry yes. Starving no. This may get unpleasant." He doesn't particularly seem bothered by that, though. He then turns to Randal, "I hope you won't mind if I take only a light load or no load. I am recently out of the infirmary."

An exhausted Romulan approaches Jatila as she exits the airlock. "Jolan'tru," he greets, inclining his head. "I am Doctor Svralin."

A nearby Nausicaan, towering above the rest of his species at nearly seven and a half feet tall, snorts derisively as he spots her. "Romulan come to -help-," he spits at his friends. "Gro'th'aak wonder if they help like -Tal'Kaden-." A general murmur of discontent passes through the crowd of Nausicaans.

Svralin, for his part, manages to look pained. "They've been like this since they arrived."

Randal's brow furrows, and he seems rather worried about something. "Yeah, let's start moving some supplies out. Dirha and I can load up the antigrav sled, while you maneuver it. How's that sound? Shouldn't too stressful, physically. Glad to see you're doing much better, by the way, Mr. Torata." He frowns even further as Jatila crosses the bay toward the Romulans. "Hmm... actually, why don't you too get started. Someone needs to talk to the Nausicaans so they don't perceive they're being neglected." He moves to depart the airlock and approach the Nausicaan camp.

. o O Randal is anxious about an argument he foresees.

Kisa eyes the Romulan doctor considerably. "Do not fault them when many passed for them to bear grudge." Antennae twitch for she heard the murmur quite clearly. "And be fortunate arms were not held against you." Then she moves softly towards the Nausicaans, offering a polite nod and the tiny box she carries to a familiar refugee.

. o O Randal thinks "There's a lot more Nausicaans than Romulans. I know Taimol is trying to be equivocal, but they'd need a proportionately larger amount of supplies..."

Jatila pauses at a polite distance to bow slightly, switching to her native language as she addresses her fellow Romulan. "Jolan'tru, Doctor. I am Jatila." She pauses to glance toward the Nausicaans. "Not especially surprising." She pauses, then speaks in Standard again, desperately hoping the Nausicaans understand the language. "The Tal'Kaden." Hatred and loathing show in her voice and expression, even the way her body quivers before she suppresses it, though she continues to address Svralin. "I barely survived a Tal'Kaden attack not two weeks ago..." A deep breath. "Unimportant. We are here to help. Romulan, Bajoran, Andorian... all of us." A gesture toward Kisa. "She suffered much in that attack."

. o O Kisa thinks "Has consideration been long overlooked? These people suffered enough. Lose of home and now of people."

Nertora inclines his head to the man in greetings. Eyes flicker around he remains quiet frowning lightly, surveying the group quietly he doesn't speak up yet just taking in studying each person and reactions.

Taimol manhandles a pallet onto the antigrav sled for his group. "I do hope that we're doing the right thing," he murmurs to Khitra, concern in his eyes.

. o O Taimol is worried. He didn't think that there would be simmering tensions.

. o O Taimol thinks "And I brought Khitra into the middle of this. Good move, Edan."

Dirha nods cheerily to Randal, then grins at Torata and starts up towards the supplies and the sleds. He starts to work, setting his broom aside so he can start muscling pallets around.

Torata looks around for things that are suitably light to move onto the gravlift, noting, "I'm kind of surprised he's going out there on his own right now. One would think he'd wait to go out with the supplies." He shrugs slightly, "Wait... also, isn't that the man who I keep hearing has managed to spectacularly insult people on board? Going out to talk with starving Nausicaans?"

Khitra nods to Taimol. "I think so, Edan," she says quietly. "These people need the help, after all." She hauls her box onto the sled and finds another box to tote over.

"It will raise the spirits of everyone to see a Romulan with her head held high," Svralin replies softly in Romulan, nodding before he turns toward the Nausicaans. "I feel sorry for them. Not that they believe that, of course."

Gro'th'aak, for his part, seems to be considerably less than pleased. "She barely survive, she say. They suffer much, she say. We lose whole families and our home! To Romulans! First Nausicaa, then our lives!" Another ripple passes through the crowd, at a higher volume this time. "We suffer more, woman. We suffer far more." Sadness wells up in the beady black pools of the Nausicaan's eyes, and he turns his attention to Kisa and Randal, accepting the box from the former. "What this?"

"Look," Randal says Gro'th'aak, "Anyone who's been forced to take refuge on this station has lost family and property. Everyone is suffering. We're here to fix that. For everyone." His eyes shift to the Romulan refugees, then over to the crowd of Nausicaans, looking faintly uncomfortable about something, though he says nothing else. He looks toward the box that Kisa offers, then to Kisa herself with a quizical expression.

. o O Randal sympathizes and agrees with Gro'th'aak, in spite of his attempts at diplomacy. It may become increasingly hard for him to demonstrate impartiality.

Kisa agrees with Gro'th'aak so sayeth her eyes and expression. "Far more than what happened to Jatila," is echoed. A tiny grin forms at the Nausciaan's question. "One of many supplies the Federation offers. This should contain medical kits and on the pallets behind me there are some replicators." She pauses, then lowers her head and antennae in greeting. "Despite the grievous time to which I share the sorrow, it is good to meet again, Gro'th'aak. I hope what I sent was honorable for whom were lost."

Jatila considers Svralin for a long moment. "Every Romulan's head should be held high. Including yours." She turns slightly, her words meant for the other Romulans as well. "You all are serving the Empire, even now. You protect yourselves, your children, the Empire's most valuable asset. And the Empire does not forget the sacrifices you have made." She turns slowly to stare at Gro'th'aak. Finally she says, "What happened to you was wrong. Now, you have a choice. You can accept the help offered you here and now, or not. You can allow your children to starve and shiver in the cold. Or you can survive and help us defeat those who did this to you. To be quite honest, I do not care which you choose, though I will grieve for your children."

Nertora lets the others talk and convince with them. Since after all they seem to be doing well, enough. He pauses at some though, but otherwise he keeps an eye on the group taking some mental notes one can only assume. The Cardassian man helping to move a few things here and there, nothing overly heavy while he watches on.

. o O Nertora thinks "Women at least do have good uses when coming as benefactors. I shall have to remember that. Even Romulan ones, intriguing, that was not expected."

Taimol allows a small smile after a moment. "They do, don't they?" He muscles another pallet over, then wipes a bead of sweat from his forehead. "Do you want to push, or shall I?"

Dirha isn't a big fellow, but he's energetic. He's got heart. He just grins reassuringly at Torata and drags the heavier items about, awkwardly but with a will.

. o O Kisa thinks "Do you not see how your words can rile those whose grief is worn upon the sleeve? Give them space and let them make the decision to accept or not. Now you put them in a position to disagree with you out of spite."

Torata is content to take the lighter aspects of the task, and adds, "They seem to be doing well enough. Or at least, within acceptable tolerances. There shouldn't be too much to worry about."

Khitra glances in Jatila's direction, then back to Edan. "I'll push, Edan." She smiles at him, touching his shoulder before turning to take control of the sled.

. o O Khitra thinks "This is very diplomatic, in a way that isn't. You think big, Edan."

A ripple passes through the Romulans, and several backs straighten at Jatila's words. Svralin, though, offers a wry grin. "Of course," he replies softly before he freezes. "You are aware that there is a Cardassian with you?"

Gro'th'aak nods to Kisa. "It was," he replies softly before nodding to Randal. "We have not killed Romulans here. Yet." And then, Jatila's words cause him to pull up to his full height and stare back. "You -no better- than Tal'Kaden. Maybe you not use words, but tone say it all: 'Be silent, Nausicaan, and accept what your master give you!' We -not- slaves, and you -not- better than us." A snarl escapes from several of the Nausicaans standing behind the big lug, but he silences them with a raised hand. "We take your help, Romulan... for no reason other than to be able to return home and -kill- every green-blood on our world!"

. o O Khitra thinks "Oooh. Hmn. Not good."

. o O Gro'th'aak want to smash Romulan!

Randal turns his head and gives Jatila a scowl that is somewhat aghast, as if to say, 'What do you think you're doing?' Quickly refocusing on Gro'th'aak, he says quickly, "No one is going to go without supplies, believe me. No one deserves to go without life's necessities, regardless of who they are and what they choose." There's a brief pause before he adds, "And it isn't like the Nausicaans have been offered a lot of choice to this point. They, certainly, haven't done anything wrong." There's a slight, borderline smirk to the smile he wears.

Kisa tilts her head in a bow for the short words of gratitude yet this warmth diminishes when her thoughts come to life. Her head snaps about to glower outright at Jatila, as a mother would to a child for saying something impolite. Grievous and pained, she turns towards Gro'th'aak to offer, "Your home will be yours soon again. Will you show the rest of us where you'd like the supplies to be brought?" Her hand gestures towards those behind who push or carry ahead the boxes of supplies.

. o O Kisa thinks "Still thy words and barbs, Jatila. It is not important compared to giving every person here the supplies needed."

Jatila glances over her shoulder toward Nertora, and sighs a bit, saying in Romulan, "I know. Its presence," and she is most definitely referring to the Cardassian as an 'it', "Is my personal burden, here and in my duties." Back to Standard, as she glances toward the Nausicaans again. Very slowly, ignoring the looks she's getting from her cohorts, she smiles.

. o O Jatila thinks "That's right, little Nausicaan. Go home, and destroy Kassus' forces. Please."

Nertora tilts his head as Cardassian is mentioned. He gives a polite smile and offers a light nod of greetings but doesn't actually make any verbal response. A quiet glance across Gro'th'aak and the Romulan, but as Randal responds he leaves it be a faint look of amusement once more.

A worried sort of smile graces Edan's lips as he follows Khitra down the ramp into the docking bay. Crossing to Jatila's side, he leans in close to her ear to speak. "Perhaps we should get them to go back to their respective corners? We have the first sled of supplies ready -- the replicators are on it, so if there's anything they need immediately, we should get them set up."

Dirha glances over at the simmering angry people and frowns in a worried sort of way. He'd work faster, but his enthusiasm already put him at top speed.

. o O Taimol thinks "Blessed Prophets, please do not let this explode into violence. We are here to help, not provoke."

"Of course, I could be wrong," Torata states blandly, adding, "Of course, it is events like these that can so easily provide flash points for civil wars. I do hope that people will speak a little more graciously."

Khitra puts on a smile and inquires, "Will you show us to your camp?" to the Romulan representative.

. o O Khitra thinks "Moving right along and out of each other's faces..."

Gro'th'aak' mandibles click together for a moment. "You wise, for a human," he finally rumbles at Randal before nodding to Kisa. "We come here for supplies. That side..." he gestures to the far wall, "...ours."

Svralin wrinkles his nose in distaste before he gestures to the opposite wall. "We do much the same. It facilitates distribution when the Starfleet aid shipments arrive. If you and the dog... Cardassian gentleman would direct your traffic this way, I would greatly appreciate it."

Jatila tilts her head, listening to Taimol, and nods. "Very well, Vedek." She gives Svralin a wry smile at his comments, both complete and 'corrected', and takes a step back so that those moving the supplies about can get past her. "What do you find yourselves most in need of, Doctor?"

Randal's eyes shift over to Svralin with a piercing expression. He then smiles in a way that belies the sarcasm laced in his tone. "Doctor, it seems you are a bit lacking in your command of Federation Standard. You should work on that, it gives you a distinct air of unprofessionalism. That is, of course, if you want to be able to coexist on a station with the rest of us 'lesser people' in relative safety." Uh, yeah. Randal's diplomatic veneer is starting to wear thin. Back to the Nausicaan, he says, smiling, "Thank you. I try to be open-minded, especially when such qualities in others. We'll have your supplies delivered to your people as soon as possible."

Kisa hastens back to the ship to retrieve another box, then strides towards the appropriate wall. Back and forth she goes in delivering supplies. All done in silence save for trilling.

Nertora offers politely, "My title would be Aide, Nertora at worst, Doctor." He says, a quiet glance surveying the romulan than the nausicaans with wry disdain, as he assists in the supplying as well keeping an eye on those of the refugees in line of sight as well as those who came from the station.

Taimol inclines his head slightly, turning to Khitra and giving her an abject look of relief. "There are a total of ten replicators. Five for the Nausicaans, five for the Romulans."

Dirha pauses and looks at Taimol, worriedly. A moment later he starts his struggle with another pallet.

Torata looks up, sighs, and says quietly, "Excuse me a moment." He gets up to his feet and comes out to address Svralin, "I'm sorry to disturb you all, but I am beginning to believe that there is some sort of problem with my Cardassian," and here there is a carefully-planned pause, "friend." He takes a moment to adjust his hair neatly over the little pearlescent spheres dotting his head, as if to draw attention to the fact that he is a Flaxian. "I do hope that there won't be any problems with my friend here," he says, now accentuating the word slightly for emphasis. "That would be unfortunate. Most sad. Or, indeed, if there were problems with any of the others here, for that matter."

. o O Torata thinks "Might as well see if my reputation can get people to behave..."

Khitra glances at Torata, then at Taimol, and then back at Svralin. "Ooof. I'd like to get this sled moving."

. o O Khitra thinks "C'mon. Let's seperate already!"

Gro'th'aak chuckles at Torata's words, a wet snuffling sort of noise as he wanders toward the far end of the bay. "Romulan no like Cardassian. Gro'th'aak -shocked-."

Svralin, on the other hand, offers a tight-lipped smile. "My apologies. My grasp of Standard is quite... limited. This way, please." True to form, none of the Romulans lift a finger to help Khitra push the cart. It's below them.

. o O Jatila thinks "And that Nausicaan pet's Standard is /so/ much better. Heh."

Randal quirks Svralin a curt nod, but doesn't follow the Romulan himself. Instead he wanders over to Torata and Dirha. "Alright. I'll give you a hand with supplies, now that that's handled." Pause, and then a muttered, "Sorry about that." It's not necessarily clear what he's apologizing for.

Jatila ducks her head, half-hiding a brief smile, then looks up again, her expression brisk. "Now then, while the supplies are being off-loaded, Doctor, how many of us are here? Are there any messages I can relay from our people here to their families back home?" No, she doesn't move to assist in the off-loading either.

. o O Svralin thinks "Cardassian slime. They should do the galaxy a favor and kill him where he stands."

Nertora inclines his head, "Of course, these things happen, a simple...misunderstanding of vocabulary." He offers calmly enough. A quiet smile at that he nods towards the Flaxian a polite nod of appreciation as well before back to Svralin, "Well then now that's straightened out." He offers moving on letting Jatila see to her questionings.

Taimol moves to the back of the cart, placing his hands on the handle. "Let me help," he murmurs, grinning once more at Khitra.

Dirha smiles at Randal. "It's okay," he says softly. "Talking to them's more important anyway. Do you think they're going to get mean about it? I don't understand why they're so angry."

Torata comments, "Amazing what happens when one just asks nicely." He then gives Nertora a nod, but remains where he can see everything.

Khitra nods to Edan, expression rueful. "Thank you, Edan," she replies, clearly grateful for the help.

The crowd disperses -- Nausicaans to one side, Romulans to the other. Svralin sighs softly, returning his attention to Jatila. "Two hundred and seventy-eight -- mostly women and children. We've compiled messages to be sent home and given them to Starfleet... but we've heard nothing since then. Have you any news from the Core?" The Cardassian and Flaxian are apparently given no further thought.

A young Romulan girl darts out of the crowd, tugging on Khitra's shirt. "Why are you green?" she asks, eyes wide. As soon as the question's out, five more children cluster around her and Taimol.

A younger Nausicaan male approaches Nertora at the same time. "You long way from home."

Randal chuckles as he looks to Dirha. "Well, to put in perspective... the Romulans are doing to the Nausicaan homeworld, what the Cardassians once did to Bajor." He sighs faintly, then glances toward Nertora. "Don't get me wrong, the Cardassians are making an effort to make amends, I'm sure. I hold nothing against your people." Randal hoists up a supply crate and maneuvers unto the antigrav sled. "I just fear the Romulans won't take the same lesson to heart, when this is over."

Jatila grimaces slightly, reverting to her native language. "The situation hasn't really changed." She pauses, chuckling as she watches the Romulan children. "If you can give me a list of names, I can make sure the families of those here will be notified that you are all alive and... well, in one piece. I can't guarantee responses, though. Communications out of the Empire are limited at the moment. But I will do my best." She casts a sideways look toward Randal Thorne, unruffled.

Nertora inclines his head, "So I am, so I am. But, I am here as a representative, the Detapa council wishes to see this situation resolved. so here I am, is there anything I can assist with?" He asks the young man, quietly, the reptilian features focusing on the young man head tilting the slight twitch to study he surveys lightly. He shrugs towards Randal, "There were many lessons in that time to learn."

Taimol chuckles wryly as the children swarm. "Looks like you're on the spot," he murmurs to Khitra as he starts to push.

Dirha frowns a little, and nods to Randal. "But these aren't the Romulans who are doing that," he objects, unhappily.

Torata just continues watching for the moment, though he now is watching the Nausicaan talking to Nertora.

Khitra smiles at the children approaching her. "I'm green because I'm an Orion, though I wasn't raised as one. I grew up on Terra," she supplies, pushing the sled along carefully with Taimol. Running over children? Not good.

"I will do so," Svralin replies wearily. "These people's families deserve that."

The young Nausicaan considers the Cardassian for a moment. "I curious. Never seen a Cardassian before." Meanwhile, the children bubble excitedly around Khitra. "An Orion?" "What's Terra?" "Why is this man wearing a dress?"

. o O Khitra thinks "It always comes back to the dress."

. o O Khitra is highly amused.

. o O Jatila thinks "I hope I can keep that promise, Svralin. /Damn/ you, Kassus!"

Kisa continues to deliver supplies without much in dallying, trilling as she goes, even a smile to Nausicaans who pass her way.

Jatila nods once, firmly, her eyes glittering with something unpleasant as she considers the war-worn Romulans. "That, and more, Doctor." But she does have to smile, watching Khitra and the brood. "The silver lining," she murmurs.

Nertora inclines his head quietly, with life politely. He waits for a few moments. He studies then shakes his head lightly in amusement, "Well we still aren't that popular so they aren't that common in this area."

. o O Taimol thinks "A dress."

Taimol shakes his head wryly as they approach the wall. "It's not a dress," he offers to the children, smiling.

Dirha grins at the kids. "Hi." He helps Randal wrestle the next pallet onto the sled.

Torata looks down at his own robe, and then over at Taimol. He gives him a slow, steady nod, and then goes back to watching over things.

Khitra continues to smile at the children. "Terra is a place where humans come from. Orions are pirates and very mean people; they deal in slaves." She tries not to smile at the dress comments. And mostly fails.

A few of the older male Romulan children begin to help pull things from Khitra and Taimol's antigrav cart, chattering excitedly back and forth at each other in Romulan. Doctor Svralin watches this for a moment, then offers a solemn nod to Jatila, slipping into Romulan himself. "Much more. All of the people here will never be allowed to return if Kassus should prevail." He makes an expansive gesture. "We cannot live like this. It is an insult to our dignity and our honor." The children with Khitra, meanwhile, continue asking questions. "Pirates? Are you a pirate too?" "My father is in the Star Navy! He kills pirates!" "If it's not a dress, what is it?"

Gro'th'aak stops Kisa as she passes by him. "Why you write song?" he asks softly, his voice intense.

The young Nausicaan pounds Nertora on the shoulder, laughing. "No one like Nausicaans either!"

Randal, who has been evading Dirha's question in the guise of being engaged in heavy lifting, finally answers. "Well. It's complicated. The Romulan government is responsible, if anything, and a government's citizens are the reason a government exists. But you are right... these people here aren't responsible, per se." He glances over at Nertora and his conversation with the Nausicaan youth, a faint grin crossing his features.

Kisa maintains low tones, though soothing and sorrowful. Kisa whispers to Gro'th'aak, "Because I had heard the ship strike the station. Felt the vibrations and heard echoes of whom were inside." The latter could have been her imagination. Kisa whispers to Gro'th'aak, "Stories and songs live on well past those who witnessed the tragedy. Innocents no matter what race should always be remembered. I thought it necessary to share what happened and let none forget." Antennae rise in listening to murmurs and chatter about; questionable eyes lay upon Randal and Dirha before shifting one of solemnity upon Gro'th'aak.

Jatila nods slowly at Svralin's words. "Yes, it is," she says softly. "The Empire will bring you home. This will not continue a second longer than necessary." She glances toward the doctor. "That is one thing I /can/ assure you on."

Nertora chuckles quietly, "Do they not? Well that is rather a pity, still I assure you. You get used to it. Become a diplomat if it worries you mmm? Everyone is required to be nice to you, and you can rely on big words to snub people without their knowledge." He intimates easily, "Now, then how are the things on this station? Has there been any trouble once you came here?" He asks questioning the child.

"Robes," Edan offers to the children before he starts moving the replicator. "They're for the job I perform."

Dirha looks at Randal, puzzled. "So you think these people could have stopped the Romulans from attacking Nausicaa? He asks, still working alongside the man. He shakes his head, "I don't think they're any different from the Nausicaans at all. People are silly."

Torata pales a bit, turning to Randal. "I don't feel well all of the sudden. I'm going to go sit down for a moment on the ship."

Khitra nods to the children. "Robes are very comfortable. And you can get a nice breeze in them." Her smile fades a bit and she shakes her head. "Pirates and slavers are bad - I'm not a pirate or a slaver because I wasn't raised by other Orions." She pauses to unload one of the boxes. "Most Orions view people like property. I'm no one's property."

. o O Khitra thinks "I can think of things I'd rather be doing other than explaining Orions to children. Yes, hello, I'm an Orion and I narrowly avoided becoming a sex slave! Ask me how!"

"That's good! You're too nice to be a pirate!" the little girl chimes, hugging Khitra's leg. "Thank you!" A little boy, meanwhile, inspects Taimol dubiously. "It -looks- like a dress."

Svralin releases a soft sigh, turning his gaze to the stars beyond the docking bay's forcefield. "I will keep their spirits up in any way that I can, then... starting by treating the children's medical needs." He gestures to a medical kit.

Gro'th'aak nods to Kisa before lifting the (relatively) tiny Andorian and crushing her in a hug. "We like song. Thank you."

The young Nausicaan lifts his shoulders in a shrug. "It boring. Stink of Romulans. We miss Nausicaa."

Randal gives Dirha a quizzical expression. "Well, you don't know better," he comments, in a tone that manages to be both amused and faintly condescending. Looking to Torata, he says, "Alright, go ahead and take a break." And back to Dirha, "That's the last of the medical supplies. We'll grab the replicators next, I guess."

Kisa is Andorian and is tiny in comparison to the Nausicaan but hardly is that breakable thanks to her higher cartilage-to-bone ratio. A solemn smile bursts forth. "You are welcome. It is for you and your people." She trills in response, the only means to 'hug' Gro'th'aak back since arms are crushed to her sides.

Jatila frowns slightly, taking a step forward to peer toward the children. "Are there many injuries? Starfleet did not offer medical assistance?" The young Nausicaan's comment goes unacknowledged, either through ignoring or the simple fact that Jatila has her mind on more important things than foolish upstarts who haven't been taught their place in life.

Nertora nods quietly and shrugs, "Well, with luck you shall be there again soon. Still boring is a bit more than some of the troubles there could be." He nods to the child and mms, "Now would you like to help me carry some of this out?" He offers to the child.

Taimol powers up the replicator, peering at the glowing screen for a moment. "It's much too... ah... manly to be a dress." He glances at Khitra, quirks a grin, and then goes back to prodding at the control panel.

. o O Jatila thinks "Ah, that's right. Insult nearly three hundred Romulans /and/ your colleages, Mr. Thorne. I cannot say that you do things halfway."

. o O Taimol thinks "I wonder if she thinks of it as a dress."

Dirha looks at Randal and shakes his head, smiles. "I don't? Okay. Should we carry the replicators one between the two of us, or?" He looks around. "How big are they anyway?"

Khitra smiles benignly at Edan and ruffles the hair of the kid hugging her leg. "Thank you! You're too nice for piracy, too, you know."

"Do -you- trust Starfleet doctors to do a proper job with Romulan physiology?" Svralin asks Jatila, lifting a brow and folding his arms over his chest. He waits a three count, then grins wryly at her.

The giant Nausicaan puts the Andorian back down, looking as bemused as a Nausicaan can. "Much thanks."

The younger Nausicaan eyes Nertora for a moment, then laughs. "S'tanak'al! Grn'tha'el! We help the Cardassian!"

The little girl beams. "My daddy says that I'll get to fight pirates on my Serona! What did you do on yours?"

"Let's team up on one," Randal says. "Either of us might be able to handle one, but replicators are full of delicate thingamabobs and the like, so let's not risk dropping them." He chuckles. "These ones will probably be a little bulky, I expect, since they're self-contained units rather than the basic wall-mounted type."

Kisa turns a faint shade of purple in the cheeks and seeks a hand to lay upon her frenikan for comfort. She pats the instrument, then gently pushes it aside to safety near her back. Her head bends back to look up at Gro'th'aak. "May I see more of your temporary abode? I have wondered how everyone has settled here."

"Not even on a bet," Jatila admits, smiling faintly despite her concern. "We're lucky to have you here, Doctor, considering the circumstances."

Nertora imagines there must be Nausicaan's somewhere turning in their graves at that. He nods, "Thank you." He offers to the child as he enlists help keeping a close eye on them making sure the right things get to the right side.

Taimol keeps pressing buttons for a long moment, frowning at the screen before brightening. "Ah, good. It works."

Dirha moves to one end of a replicator, coordinating with Randal. "Okay," he says, lifting a little, carefully. "It /is/ heavy."

Khitra grins at Edan, then pauses in the midst of unloading another box to peer at the little girl. "Your Serona? What's a Serona?"

"It the same as this," Gro'th'aak replies dismissively. "Old no want aliens in their home."

The trio of Nausicaans shuffle into action, hefting boxes and watching the Romulans suspiciously, almost daring them to come steal their supplies.

The little girl laughs cheerily. "-Everyone- knows what a Serona is! You join the Star Navy and go beat up bad people!" She pauses, then adds seriously, "You'd better hide if you didn't go. The Praetor will come get you! My daddy says that Neral is the Praetor, and Kassus is a fake!"

Svralin continues to grin. "If you have medical training, I could use the assistance. Even if you don't, it will do our children good to speak to you. It will give them hope."

Randal lifts his side. "Yeah. Although really, it's quite amazing to think of how small they are, for what they are capable of." He starts to move slowly, maneuvering the replicator toward the Nausicaan's proverbial zone of control with Dirha's help. "You press a button -- or speak a command on the newer models -- and out pops anything you want. Well... almost anything."

. o O Randal thinks "It takes a bit more finagling to get them to produce weapons, after all..."

Kisa responds with a nod, antennae listen and eyes observe the people interacting. "What do the children say?" is asked since she heard what the old believe.

Jatila spreads her hands. "I am at your service, Doctor. My medical knowledge is limited, but I'll be happy to do what I can." She lifts her voice a little, switching to Standard to call over helpfully, "Serona is a period of military service, mandatory for Romulans, uh, Khitra." She's fairly sure she got the name right. The Romulan woman pauses a moment, eyebrows lifting at the child's words, before her gaze turns to Taimol. "Vedek? Do we have time to assist with some medical treatment on these people?"

. o O Jatila thinks "Just how bloody long has it been since that child heard her father say those words? Hmmmm."

Nertora chuckles quietly as he watches, some faint amusement. He glances about at that now that he doesn't have to carry things he just keeps an eye on people watching them lightly in amusement.

"I don't see why not," Edan replies with a grin. "That is why we're here, right?"

. o O Taimol thinks "This is what I was meant to do. Help people."

Dirha grins at Randal, following the man's lead in carrying the device. "Yeah. It's wonderful. I'm glad we could get this many." That it's not enough doesn't really seem to matter to him, though his blue eyes are a little worried.

Khitra grins at the little girl, passing her box off to another Romulan. "Oh, really? I'd better hide, then." She nods to Jatila as well. "Thank you." Another glance about. "I don't have any sort of medical training, but I'll help where I can."

Time passes. The cargo bay on the freighter empties out, with piles of supplies being distributed to either side. The Romulans and Nausicaans press the replicators into immediate service, churning out liter after liter of water. Svralin digs out a medkit, having drafted Jatila to assist him, and begins to check all the youngsters for malnutrition before moving on to the adults. Gro'th'aak explains that the children don't know what to think about recent events, and then directs several of the Nausicaan males to begin handing out blankets to elderly Nausicaan women who still look mean enough to break bars of solid duranium in half.

The children dance and sing-song around, engaging the Bajorans in a rousing game of Star Navy and Starfleet. Of course, the valiant Romulan Star Navy vanquishes the evil Starfleet Bajorans every time. In the last game, Taimol takes refuge inside the opening to a Jeffries Tube to avoid the onslaught of the vicious half-pint Romulans.

Gro'th'aak asks Kisa to sing a song for him, and then several more after that. An elder Romulan takes Randal aside to grouse about Starfleet with him. The Nausicaans in general seem to take Nertora as a kindred spirit, asking him to regale them with tales about Cardassia.

The curious little Romulan girl parks herself in Khitra's lap, digging contently in her right nostril before she drifts off to sleep.

The atmosphere almost becomes pleasant inside the docking bay... indeed, it almost takes on the feeling of a block party or a fair.

Almost.

"Oh, exactly," Randal says, agreeing with something the Romulan said. "It was just a matter of time before something like the Tomed Incident was bound to happen. Of course, it's not fair to pin the blame squarely on either party, in that case. And records, public records anyway, aren't entirely complete." Randal seems to be enjoying the animated debate. He takes a moment to glance around the bay, a faint smile crossing his features as he watches the impromptu festival.

<CONTEST> Khitra contests her Search skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!

Several more indeed which wears upon the fingers and voice of Kisa. A smile, a frown, her expressions change with the passing of each song. Gro'th'aak's requests try her memory for her songs adjust to the audience. The one she plays now, light and strong, mirrors the tone to which a male's heart may sing, filled with bravery and strength. Pace is picked up to rouse a sense of merriment, sing on to encourage the troubled young warrior who battles on treacherous ground - against his mate.

Even Jatila is smiling a bit, the mood infectious. She stretches backwards a bit, looking rather satisfied as she works with the doctor, encouraging and comforting both children and adult Romulans alike, her words sure and strong in her praise of their courage and fortitude. A glance now and then, automatic and distracted, sweeps the docking bay.

Nertora smiles as he devolves into his light story telling about the planet. Notably biased, stories of the glory and the like. He smiles apparantly enjoying himself he takes occasional glances around keeping eyes on people along with the children he tells stories too.

Khitra smiles, listening to the singing with the sleepy child in her lap. She lets her gaze wander, a faint line appearing between her brows. Carefully rising from her seat, she takes the sleeping girl over toward one of the Jeffries tube openings, stooping down to peer inside. "Edan? You can come out now, you sorry Starfleeter."

. o O Khitra thinks "Silly. He's been gone a while."

Gro'th'aak looks pleased as he listens to Kisa's singing, although he pushes to his feet when he notices Khitra peering into the Jeffries Tube. He wanders over, peering over her shoulder for a moment.

Svralin does much the same thing, tilting his head to the side as he considers the interior as well.

Coincidentally enough, Taimol is nowhere to be seen. In fact, the only thing inside the tube is a strip of red cloth that peeks between the double sides of a closed door about two meters in.

Gro'th'aak stares into the empty Jeffries Tube for a moment before whirling and pointing a finger at Svralin. "So -that- your game, Romulan? Kidnap -priest- to get more supplies for yourself?" All the Nausicaans snarl, whirling to advance on the Romulans.

Svralin lets his tricorder drop to the deck with a clatter. "I have had -enough- of your pointless accusations, you ignorant savage! -You- probably kidnapped him to get more supplies for yourself. Elements, you barbarians have probably cooked and -eaten- him by now!" What few Romulan adult males there are stop what they're doing to face the Nausicaans.

Pleasantness? This docking bay suddenly has all the pleasantness of a warzone.

Randal's attention snaps over to the shouting. He quickly strides over to the confrontation. "Hold on a minute... let's not over-react here." He glances toward Khitra with a faintly confused expression, then stoops to peer into the tube from where he's standing. "The Vedek's probably just, you know, checking on the power conduits on this level." He says this very carefully, as he tries to string an explanation together. "This deck wasn't made for, ah, long-term population after all, and it's an old-model space station to boot. They've always had problems with their power grids, you know." Yeah, he's lying, but he's trying his darndest to make it convincing.

<PROVE> Kisa has the merit of Excellent Hearing at 2.

GAME: Randal spends a courage point.

Playing ceases the moment barbs quickly pit one race against the other; Kisa stands to dubiously stare at Gro'th'aak and Svralin, then speaks in a solemn tone. "I heard no screams or shouts above the merriment and I believe the Vedek would have been vocal if he were kidnapped." Her antennae bend and twitch, obviously attempting to decipher noises about the docking bay. "Instead of rising to accusations as Mister Randal suggests, let us locate his whereabouts. Does anyone here have a tricorder?"

<CONTEST> Randal (claiming advantage) contests his Fast Talk skill vs a difficulty of Impossible and Fails!

<PROVE> Kisa has the merit of Sexy at 2.

Jatila looks over at the little gathering around the Jeffries tube, and follows, her steps quickening when the shouting starts. With all those gathered, she can't quite get near it. Noting everybody jumping up ready to beat on each other, she drops her hand near to her thigh holster, though she doesn't draw. "/Gentlemen/. Let's not get overexcited here." That's aimed for Svralin and Gr-what'shis-name. Randal just gets a /look/. "Nobody bloody kidnapped anybody."

<CONTEST> Kisa (claiming advantage) contests her Diplomacy skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Fails!

Nertora pauses for a few moments he glances about frowning he lets, the Cardassian instead begins sorting and organizing his thoughts recalling the last movements and interactions of the Vedek, then the others. He hrmms and frowns eyes flickering about, "The station has internal sensors, yes, we can try a search like that, mmm?" He offers as he moves towards the Romulan and Nausicaan, he chuckles, "Gentleman indeed, as they say, but if there was a ploy by anyone it shall be uncovered have no fear. But we are going to need the assistance of everyone here."

Dirha looks up from the careful listening he was giving to a small Nausicaan child. He blinks. Woah. Wherever Taimol has got to doesn't seem to concern the boy-priest. He strides away from the child to interpose himself between Svralin and Gro'th'aak. Rael smiles at both of them, serenely, "Hey, wait a bit."

GAME: Khitra spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Jatila contests her Persuasion skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Fails!

GAME: Dirha spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Khitra (claiming advantage) contests her Fast Talk skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Fails!

Khitra scuttles over to a chair to deposit her sleeping charge, then holds up her hands and approaches the opening of the tubes again. "We don't know what happened, so let's all stay calm, please, until we know where Edan is. That is a scrap of his robe, however." She frowns. "Arguing isn't going to get him back any time soon!" Her irritation shows.

<CONTEST> Dirha (claiming advantage) contests his Persuasion skill vs a difficulty of Impossible and Fails!

Randal gets a -look- from pretty much everyone in the room. "What your take, human?!" a Nausicaan calls.

Gro'th'aak stares at Dirha for a moment. "Move," he growls in a low voice. Svralin goes one further. "Before you get hurt." Odd that they'd work in concert, but sentients are strange things at times.

Everyone else is pretty much ignored by both parties. The situation has been far too tense for far too long, and it finally explodes. Where the explosion starts isn't clear to any other observers, really. A Romulan slips on a spilled bit of water, tripping face-first into a pair of Nausicaans who both grunt in surprise. Three seconds later, it's a wild melee -- fists, feet, and various implements rapidly converted into weapons flying like mad. A Romulan goes flying here, while a Nausicaan takes a blow from a medical kit to the head and falls.

It's madness. Complete and total madness.

Well, that rather backfired. Anyway, the melee is breaking out and Randal's not one to stay on the sidelines. "You two, scoot," he states to Dirha and Khitra, raising his arms in a combat stance. No one's targetting Randal -- well, not /yet/ -- but Randal's going to try to play the peacekeeper, apparantly. He attempts to intercept the first attack that comes near him, no matter who's the target or who's assailant.

<PROVE> Randal has the merit of Indomitable at 2.

<CONTEST> Randal (claiming advantage) contests his Unarmed Combat (Aikido) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

Violence breeds violence; the aggression within Kisa's heart burns in seeing the chaos. She plants herself behind Dirha though between the two aggressors - Gro'th'aak and Svralin. "Have not more than enough died over this?" she calls out, using the Kisa angry tone which echoes fiercely. "Is this any way to honor thy people? Will this draw you any closer to home? Tell your people to lay down arms. If there must be a fight, settle this by Ushaani -- the dueling laws."

Jatila has enough time to look toward the Romulan children that had been pursuing the Vedek, asking, "Where did the robed-" Oh dear. Hmmm. All hell breaking loose. Jat backs up hastily, finding a wall to put her back against. She grimaces a bit- with this kind of free-for-all, disruptor fire would be a Bad Thing(tm).

<CONTEST> Kisa (claiming advantage) contests her Diplomacy skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Succeeds!

Nertora frowns, eyes darkening at the sight. He surveys them watching, and clears his throat again, then the Cardassian raises himself to his full height, "GENTLEMAN." He moves towards the melee and snaps out, "Mister Gro'th'aak, continue this and you condemn your people to forever be kept from their own planet, KEEP THEM IN CHECK. Doctor Svralin, if your people can't even hold themselves in check here, you give Kassus what he wants. Are your people so WEAK they cannot contain themselves. Listen to the Andorian." He attacks the two leaders verbally, and of course a reptilian man moving amidst the group is one of the stranger things to see his hands spreading wide, "If you two don't silence your groups, and help us find that Vedek, I assure you the 7th Order fleet tasked to clean Kassus' forces out will not be assisting, do you wish to explain to your people, why your own very /weaknesses/ lead to them losing....everything?" His voice comes across gravelly and sharp, admonishing and cool, reptilian logic he does his best to try and draw their attentions to him.

Dirha doesn't move. He hasn't even got his broom. He just lifts his hands, palms flat, and holds one to Gro'th'aak and one to Svralin. "No," he says. "If you want to kill each other for harming a priest, you'll have to harm one first." There's a spark of pain in his calm eyes as the room around him erupts into violence. He doesn't pay any attention to Randal at all.

<CONTEST> Nertora contests his Diplomacy skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Dramatically Succeeds!

. o O Jatila thinks "Hmmm. I wonder if anybody'd notice if I shot Nertora in all this."

Khitra winces, nodding to Randal; she glances about - first looking to the Jeffries tube opening, then over toward the little girl who'd fallen asleep in her lap. Another wince, for the girl she'd been looking after is far out of her reach, beyond the brawling. Khitra shakes her head and ducks into the Jeffries tube. May as well find out where Taimol went.

A Nausicaan rushes past Randal, earning a kick to the backside but nothing that will make him stop. The enraged Nausicaan pauses, turning on his human assailant to undoubtedly tear his head off...

And then everything stops. Gro'th'aak and Svralin pause at Kisa's words, but it is Nertora's words that ring through the chamber, touching every combatant in different ways. In the silence that ensues, all that can be heard is the sobbing of a small child and a soft musical refrain.

A Romulan girl that has her face buried in the chest of a crimson robe of a Bajoran vedek as he cradles her protectively, humming a soft Bajoran lullaby.

A most assuredly not-kidnapped Taimol Edan.

"Sorry..." he murmurs, shame burning on his cheeks. "I got lost."

In the madness that swept the through the docking bay, it took a Cardassian diplomat to save the day. The one who most of them despise became a hero.

The universe twists in on itself in irony.

Later, as the Ferengi freighter warps back toward the station...

Randal leans against one of the support struts on the bridge, arms crossed, idly watching the stars streak by, when he can catch glimpses throught the intermittent static on the faulty viewscreen. "Well that went well," Randal comments lightly, to no one in particular.

. o O Dirha thinks "People are crazy. They're just going to do it again. No. Don't think that way. People can learn. Can't they?"

Kisa hasn't left her spot by the viewport, always watching in deep contemplation. As she began this journey, so she ends it in solitude and wonderment.

Jatila is back in her semi-dry wall spot, arms folded across her chest again as she stares at the viewscreen. Several seconds after Randal Thorne's comment, she says, "We accomplished what we came to do. That is what is important." She glances toward Taimol. "Nothing that happened there is the fault of anybody here. It was inevitable. I believe the humans call it a powderkeg." She shrugs slightly. "If that had not happened, something else would have." She utterly avoids acknowledging even Nertora's presence at this point.

Nertora smiles quietly as he glances about and hmms quietly watching he offers lightly, "Mmm still, it could have been much worse," He glances towards Taimol, "Quite a scare you gave us, Vedek...mmm next time perhaps we should bring you a keeper?" He offers lightly.

Taimol sits silently on the floor near the door to the cargo bay, brows furrowed in thought. "It was an accident," he offers morosely. "I'm sorry."

. o O Taimol radiates humiliation and sadness.

Dirha is quiet, sitting on the floor a little distance from Taimol, his arms around his drawn up knees and his head resting on them such that he looks off at the wall, away from the group.

Khitra is seated next to Taimol, where she looks amused, relieved, or vaguely angry. And keeps close. "Perhaps some bells sewn into his robe," she murmurs, arching a brow at the Bajoran, though she does lean over to kiss his cheek.

. o O Khitra is feeling a mixture of emotions; mostly relief, though there's a flicker of amusement now and again - he disappeared - and flashes of irritation - he disappeared and look what happened!

Randal's gaze shifts over to Nertora. "I'm rather impressed by you, I have to say," he comments, giving the Cardassian a smile. "I can see why you became a diplomat." He chuckles. "Anyway, I can't believe they'd accuse me of being 'on the take.' I know it was an accusation in the heat of the moment, but really... I'm a professional." A professional /what/, Randal leaves that notion incomplete.

The fact that this Andorian separates from the social circle speaks volumes of her present state; tis most odd and uncommon for an Andorian to want to be alone. Kisa hardly tears a gaze away from the viewport, but does once to regard the Cardassian with solemnity.

Jatila glances sideways toward Randal. Looks back toward Taimol, her gaze passing over Nertora as if he doesn't exist. "Yes, it was an accident. Accidents happen. It is not your fault. In a way, it is a good thing. The... the air has defused there, somewhat, as a result."

. o O Kisa thinks "The unlikely hero in this tale, yet I am too cold and disturbed to write it. Certain players cause it so. Your actions today may likely be forgotten, Nertora...and that...is a shame."

Nertora chuckles, "Mmm it turned out alright, do not worry so Vedek."

A blush creeps into Taimol's cheeks as he's kissed. "Bells. In my robes." He sounds dubious as he snuggles against Khitra.

. o O Taimol takes comfort in Khitra's presence.

Khitra nods to Taimol. "Just so. Bells. Or something that beeps occasionally."

The Sixty-Second Rule races further into the darkness, aimed directly at the Anomaly... and home.

Elsewhere in the Dulcais Sector...

Gro'th'aak leans back in a chair, regarding the much smaller Romulan across the table from him. "Nausicaans agree to form governing council with you. Perhaps what happen today not happen again."

Svralin lifts a brow, considering the giant across the table with a wry grin. "Elements willing, it will never happen again."

The wet, snuffling sound once again escapes from Gro'th'aak's throat. "Never... that a -long- time."

"Indeed," the Romulan replies, extending his hand. "But definitely..."

"A time worth fighting for," the Nausicaan finishes as he lifts his own arm.

The two men clasp hands across the table and shake, cementing the peace between the Romulans and the Nausicaans on Korolev Station.