Renegade Reflections

 Episode Name:  Renegade Reflections

   Written By:  Eidolon

         Cast:  Albertz, Donavon, Eidolon, Foster, Haven, Hurley, 
                Klingon Behemoth, Krylow, Nabrun, Soral, 
                Takamura and Valentine.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Eidolon

     Aired On:  Mon Nov 29 21:56:12 2004

     Stardate:  54570.6

Time: Sat Nov 27 17:38:37 2004

Stardate: 54565.4

The Thomas Paine slowly pulls away from the twinkling lights of Station 419-Upsilon, sillhoutted by the strobe of the Anomaly.

On the viewscreen, holding down the center seat of the station, is Lieutenant Robert Harris. "You're cleared for departure on vector 192 mark 39, Thomas Paine. Local traffic has been cleared to a distance of 10 AU." He pauses for a moment, then offers a nod. "Good luck, and good hunting. Station 419 out." The screen blips out to show the station receding in the distance.

The turbolift doors slide open with a hiss.

Valentine steps out of the turbolift.

Valentine has arrived.

The turbolift doors slide closed.

Takamura sits in the Command Chair of the Thomas Paine, filling it out with his mere size if not his actual starship command experience. Nodding to Harris, he smiles. "Thank you, Lieutenant." Turing to his helmsman, Takamura instructs, "Mr. Foster, please take us out at one quarter impulse. Mr. Valentine and Mr. Krylow prepare the translaprt device."

. o O Takamura thinks "Alright, Hiroshi, here we go. Your first major command of a joint mission. Let's get this done right and bring everybody home this time."

. o O Takamura feels a little anxious.

Valentine glances over her shoulder toward Tak with a nod, then looks back to Krylow as her fingers dance on touchpads. "Aye, sir. Alek, you got your eye on that port feed?"

Krylow is settled in at Engineering doing that thing that Engineers do. Checking systems, watching scans and making sure everything looks good as the Paine gets underway. He glances up as he hears Takamura and nods. "All systems are five by five Lieutenant. We're ready to roll on your command."

. o O Krylow is feeling focused, though a touch nervous.

Haven slides into the Science seat on the Paine and takes a moment to get things settled to her liking. Terminal up and readings on line. She glances up at the screen as Harris speaks then looks over towards Tak. She listens for a moment then shifts back to her terminal.

Albertz takes up station at the after section of the bridge, finding himself a nice unoccupied bit of console to lean against. He folds his arms across his chest and watches the bridge proceedings unfold. As always, the doctor has his ubiquitous medkit emblazoned with 'RFC', slung over his shoulder. Either a bold fashion statement or a good luck charm. Or both.

Nearest to tactical stands Lieutenant JG Donavon who maintains a stern eye on its readouts. She's no open book on this mission, more cold and gravely silent.

. o O Donavon thinks "Tomorrow you'll be having breakfast with your Hurley, Rob. Count on it."

"Aye, aye, sir," Foster says, tapping almost boredly at the Conn controls. This is how he concentrates - by focusing on what he's doing and little else. "Vector 192 mark 39, engaging at one-quarter impulse."

Hurley's eyes lock on Harris' image on the viewscreen while he speaks, with her hands clasped behind her back and large, saddened eyes starting to tear just slightly as the image abruptly ceases before she forces herself to look away. Her sulky expression immediately turns to a glower as she notes one of the two guards stationed next to her and her arms come up to fold against her chest as she turns the scowl to the rest of the crew on the bridge.

. o O Hurley thinks "My one chance at a good life... and the one man who was making me happy is the one responsible for everyone finding out and me being tossed aside like a common thief. Why couldn't he just accept me?"

Nabrun watches Harris for a moment from where she's perched not too far from Hurley. For whatever reason, the Betazoid has chosen Christine Hurley as her own special little project and seems to have no intention of moving anywhere else. Oddly enough, she's got her own medkit with her, though it's tucked neatly between her feet. She watches, and she waits.

Soral, more a guest than an officer assigned to a duty station, stays on the spare/jumpseat reserved for such rare occasion. Having modified his viewscreen to display a multitude of information at the same time, he consoles himself with monitoring the data it presents.

. o O Hurley is angry beyond all belief, but is miraculously not showing it physically.

Takamura rises from his seat and glances around the bridge to survey his crew. Clearing his throat, he begins to speak. "Before we jump over to the other side, I want to thank each of you for volunteering for this mission. We will be facing several unknown factors and much risk. However, it is all for a worthy cause; the rescue of Christine Hurley." He pauses a moment to take a breath. "Once we arrive on the other side, we will attempt to contact the resistance cell that brought us over there in the first place. They are main lead we have to follow. Stay on your toes people and remember that although people from the otherside look like us, they grew up in a much different universe with different loyalties. I have a great deal of faith in this crew and know we will be successful in our mission." Nodding briefly, he retakes his command chair.

Valentine turns around fully to listen to Tak as he speaks, calm and quiet. The faintest ghost of a grim smile touches her lips at the 'look like us' comment, then she nods once and turns back to her console again.

Krylow remains quiet during the talk. He's just waiting on word and not doing much else right now.

Haven shifts a glance to look over Hurley, the doc in her still present as she gives her a thorough once over. With a frown, she looks back at her terminal with a shake of her head.

Albertz turns his head to watch Takamura as he addresses the bridge. Once the big commander is finished, the Scot inclines his head slightly, acknowledging the speech.

For the briefest of moments, Donavon permits a look directly at the other Hurley. A sigh, a rub of her wedding band and a head shake later, her attentions return to tactical.

Foster turns in the Conn chair, and says, "May I suggest that we establish some kind of security procedure, to make certain that... well, once we're ready to come back, we are who we say we are?" He adds, "And, absolutely no offense meant to Ensign Hurley, but it might be a good idea to negotiate that if she was not here at the time."

Hurley's glare just ever so naturally falls on Takamura. And, after his words and the ceremonoius retaking of his command chair, her jaw sets firmly and tear-filled eyes jerk away from him, finding a plain, empty bulkhead to focus on. This is just enough for her to keep her composure and just enough to keep her thoughts focused.

. o O Hurley thinks "Unbelievable. They're risking a *ship* and this *entire crew* for *one Ensign*. It's no wonder they lost her in the first place if they're seriously this naive and foolish."

Nabrun smiles a bit as Tak speaks and dips her head in acknowledgement. Once he's finished, her eyes move to all of the others aboard, one by one, studying each person. "Sir," she calls quietly, "LT Foster just stole what I was about to say. I can assist with this, if necessary."

Soral turns his attention briefly from his viewscreen to Takamura to listen to his speech. Not unexpectedly, it goes back to aforementioned screen after a short nod of acknowledgement and a glance to Mirror-Hurley without any change in his expression.

. o O Valentine is struck by the memory of Hurley- /their/ Hurley- and the way she looked so happy when they were about to beam out of the prison. "And I thought it was just relief at surviving..." A snort of disgust.

Takamura glances first from Foster then to Nabrun. "You both bring up a valid point. That is why Doctor Haven has developed a way to scan for the tell-tale signs of both universes. Station command has a similar device as well." Gesturing to Nabrun, he continues. "That is also the reason Counselor Nabrun is a member of our crew. This way we have two methods for identifying individuals."

. o O Nabrun thinks "Everyone here is accounted for. I know most of them well enough that I HOPE I could pick them out of a crowd. Ahhh, yes. I'm the pet telepath. One mention of a leash and I'll probably hit someone, pacifist or no. At least, this time, I know I can shoot my way out of a wet paper bag if necessary. This Hurley really needs counseling. There's no time now. I wish I knew what I was walking into. How many of this crew went on the last mission? Am I the only newcomer?""

Valentine glances toward Hurley briefly, her face carefully neutral, before looking back and forth between Foster and Takamura, the heel of one foot starting to jitter against the floor.

. o O Valentine thinks "C'mon, let's /go/."

Haven frowns a touch as she's pulled into the conversation. "Station command has the parameters to scan all life forms on the vessel to determine who carries the mirror anomaly and who doesn't." She offers a smile and shrugs, "The station transport buffer and sensors both know what to look for."

. o O Nabrun is worried, terrified, actually. But over that are feelings of contentment, purpose.

Albertz begins drumming a quiet tattoo on the side of his medkit, "Och weel...I'd expect my counterpart is probably a Celtic supporter. Easy peasy."

Donavon rubs the scars on her chin with the base of her thumb in consideration before dropping both hands to either side of the console. "A lowlander, Albertz, is most probable," she murmurs evenly between studying readouts. Charity has connected.

The man in the pilot's chair nods, and says, "Actually, Doctor Albertz's comment brings up another thought: it might be worthwhile to note any similarities or differences that we already know of between ourselves and our Mirror counterparts. Affectations, for example, that might lead us to realize who someone is before we go placing our lives in their hands. Information is power, and all that." That said, he spins back around to keep watch on his own instruments.

. o O Donavon thinks "No one really knew Hurley on the last run else this mistake would never had occured."

The talk of mirrors and identification gets little reaction from Hurley. She simply stands there, arms still folded across her chest in a small pout with a scowl that travels, once in a great while, away from her favorite bulkhead. Though, just for good measure, Foster does receive a good amount of glare before she releases a sigh and looks back at her bulkhead with renewed irritation.

Nabrun listens, then nods slowly. She doesn't speak again, merely assimilates the information. Of course, her attention goes back to Hurley, head cocking to the side a little. The counselor -almost- says something to the woman, but manages to refrain. Barely. "Either that or he plays North American Football, Hamish."

Takamura holds up a hand to Foster. "Those concerns are best addressed by the objective methods put in place with Dr. Haven's scans. We don't have time to discuss this further. If we are going to rescue Hurley, we need to proceed." Looking to his engineers, he orders. "Misters Valentine and Krylow, activate the device."

. o O Takamura thinks "Geez, Caleb. You seem more cautious than you normally are. I thought you flew by the seat of your pants."

Valentine looks toward Tak as if she'd like to give him a cheer, then nods. "You betcha, sir." She reaches out to code in the key for a locked, protective cover over a newly installed touchpad, flips it open. Tara presses a set of buttons in a specific order, nods to Krylow, and looks up toward the viewscreen.

Krylow nods to Valentine in turn, and goes back to watching the console in front of him. He too punches in a few buttons on the pad and then looks to Lieutenant Takamura. "Here we go Sir."

Albertz stifles a small laugh at Nabrun's comment. Deadly missions are no place for levity. No sir.

. o O Valentine thinks "Okay, folks, hold onto your butts."

. o O Valentine is a heck of a lot more nervous about this than she's letting on.

Donavon shakes her head wearily and focuses on her work.

. o O Nabrun groans mentally. "Tara's nervous. It'll be alright. She's GOOD at what she does. I'll just pretend I didn't hear that."

Hurley slowly moves her glare from the bulkhead and around the bridge again. A cold, calculating gaze meets each officer on the bridge while she silently studies every change in demeanor or any small twitch in their expression. The only one she seems hesitant to watch carefully is Nabrun, who she skims once in awhile, then passes her gaze off to another officer.

. o O Hurley thinks "We're on our way. Escape. I have to escape. These fools are going to get me killed! But, how am I going to separate from them long enough to lose their attention?"

Nabrun clears her throat quietly and just looks at Hurley for a time. Nothing else is going on. The Betazoid is simply watching the mirror ensign with unblinking black eyes, rather the same way a cat would watch a goldfish.

Now that was what he was waiting for, Soral keys his display to show scientific telemetry of the devices action, only momentarily distracted by a long look over to Nabrun.

As the device activates, a rippling wave of visual distortions pass across the bridge -- and then reality goes to hell in a handbasket.

The bridge becomes impossibly large, stretching from each officer's viewpoint to infinity, and perhaps a bit beyond... before it vanishes entirely, turning inside out and sucking into an impossibly small pinprick. Each officer is left to face the sucking doom alone...

..before they stand upon Liberty Island, New York Harbor, watching buildings crumble under the green of Klingon disruptors and the gold of Cardassian phasers. A Bird of Prey races past, firing a photon torpedo directly into Lady Liberty...

...the Golden Gate collapses in on itself, a majestic (and rather cruel-looking) building standing on the Marin County side of the San Francisco bay burning out of control...

...a plain on Vulcan, filled with the rotting carcasses of the Starfleet troops who struggled in vain to keep this world from falling to the Alliance...

...Klingon shock troops mowing down passive Betazoid protestors with little more than raucous laughter...

...fire and pain...

And then, everything returns to normal, save for the flicker of the red alert tracers. "Warning: Temporal disturbance detected," the computer's calm tones repeat over and over again.

. o O Foster thinks "I wonder if this Hurley really WAS an Ensign on he other side... whhhhhhoooooooaaaaaaa!"

. o O Takamura thinks "Oh boy. It's happening again just like it did with Tara. Temporal disturbance? I hope we ended up in the right time."

Takamura sits back in the command chair, his hand holding onto the armrests. Once things settle down, the big man takes a deep breath. "Foster, get a fix on our location. Dr. Soral, try to determine when we are. Everyone else, status report on your station."

. o O Hurley is strangely mentally calm amidst the death and destruction, though a small amount of fear grips her, making her want to break into a scream and run for her life. But, with wits about her, she is very careful to not let a soul *see* a thing.

. o O Hurley thinks "Welcome to my hell, Ladies and Gentlemen."

. o O Nabrun thinks "Tara? I don't love you anymore. No. Really. THAT'S what you meant. Deities bless."

Valentine's eyes widen, and she leans forward urgently over her console, recovering fairly quickly. After all, it ain't the first time she's gone through that particular phenomenon. She shoots a significant look toward Takamura before scanning her readouts. "Status... normal, Lieutenant." She sounds fairly surprised at that. "The device is reading green lights across the board."

<CONTEST> Foster contests his Space Sciences (Astrogation) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Soral contests his Personal Equipment (Temporal Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

. o O Valentine thinks "Kinda nice, for once being the expert on a weird occurrence. Not that I would mind, terribly, if it had never happened to any of us."

<CONTEST> Haven contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

Shock washes over Loni as the device activates and her world goes to hell, taking her mind along for the ride. The only thing that comes to mind for her is the attack on Earth by the Breen. As it fades away, she shakes her head to clear it and blinks at her screen. It takes her a moment to focus on her screen then she's all business. "Science on line.." then she's silent for a moment. "Lieutenant.. Decaying ion trails indicate that several vessels passed through this area several hours ago." Again she's silent then she frowns, "I'm showing.. at least six Bajoran raiders and a single Constitution-class starship, and they were all headed for Bak'TUR."

Albertz's brow furrows as the Paine translates into the mirror universe and he blinks a couple of times, an almost disbelieving look on his face.

. o O Albertz struggles to come to terms with what he's just seen. Finally he simply pushes it to the back of his mind, something to reflect upon once they're back home. Safe and sound.

Foster busily runs his fingers over the controls of the Conn station, frowns, and then looks at them again. Almost visibly, an 'aha' lights his face. "Showing all green here. We are in the same position we were in when we left our universe, continuing to maintain one-quarter impulse. There is no Anomaly, but all other stars are in the proper configuarations."

Hurley stands emotionless while watching the death and destruction around her. Once she finds herself on the bridge again, she lifts her chin only slightly and slowly takes a head-count of those remaining. Much to her dismay nobody is missing and with an exhale, she looks back to her spot on the bulkhead. Though Haven's announcement gets a slight glance from the woman, she doesn't seem to care about any of the other station reports.

Nabrun is hit rather hard not only by the force of what she's seen and her own emotions, but also the emotions of those around her. It takes her a moment longer than the others to recover, and there's an odd glimmer in her eyes, but she blinks it away and straightens. Eyes touch each and every one of the others before finally resting once again on Hurley.

. o O Foster has banished his revulsion at those thoughts, and even his consideration of the images given, into a little portion of his mind, to be thought of later. Now is not the time.

Soral rose with the first indication of trouble from his seat and stepped over to the science console and murmurs to Haven to excuse him for a moment while he taps into some systems. Only moments later he takes out his Tricorder, a special, modified version, to take a scan. "The quantum signatures define the time and day to be the present within the accuracy tolerance of the tricorder - There is no derivation from the norm line." pause "However, the signature is hereby confirmed of the alternate universe number one, more commonly referred to the Mirror Universe." he walks back to his seat "It appears from this limited analysis, that we have reached the intended destination."

. o O Soral started to emanate calm serenity as if deliberately trying to soothe someone.

Takamura litens to the reports from the different stations and relaxes a touch. "Excellent. At least we are in the right place and time." At Haven's report, he quirks a brow. "A Constitution-class? Well, I think I know who that might be. Can you determine their ETA to Bak'TUR? and if there any residual traces of combat?"

Valentine snorts softly. "I bet I know who it is too," she mutters, glancing briefly toward the Mirror Hurley.

<CONTEST> Haven contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!

Haven waits for Soral to finish at her console then she takes control once more. She nods at Tak's order and begins to work. A frown sweeps over her features as she tries to narrow the sensor trace to pick up specific details. "Working on it.." she murmurs to Tak. "Nothing yet.."

. o O Krylow thinks "Barana can't have taken that well. Hell, I didn't take that well."

<CONTEST> Foster contests his Space Sciences (Astrogation) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Foster contests his Computer (Research) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds!

"ETA to Bak'TUR from our current position at Warp 9.2, approximately 90 minutes," Foster says. "A Constitution-class vessel from our universe would take rought 2.75 hours to make the same trip from this location."

<CONTEST> Haven contests her Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

"Thank you, Mr. Foster." Takamura replies. Turning to Haven, he inquires, any more luck in finding out how much of a lead they have on us?"

Valentine casts a look toward Tak, then Haven, chewing on her lower lip.

. o O Valentine thinks "A lead? What's the difference? Whatever Rob Harris is doing here has nothing to do with our mission... does it?"

Krylow remains at the console, watching the scans and listening for now. He's got his game face on, no emotions showing.

Haven keeps working at it. Yay for being a workaholic. Ahha! After making a few adjustments, she has what she needs. "I show no combat in this area in some time.. as for a lead.." She frowns a moment then smiles, "One hour and 15 minutes."

Foster adds, on the heels of the Lieutenant's comment, and perhaps unnecessarily, "Assuming that a Constitution-class on this side of the Mirror is capable of the same as our own, if we head towards Bak'TUR at maximum speed, we will get there at the same time they will." Not that he knows who THEY are, but that's besides the point.

Soral studies the data display at his seat once again, then gives some members of the crew curious glances as if trying to determine what the undercurrent seems to be.

Suddenly, the operations officer looks up. "Sir, incoming transmission..."

Without further ado, the viewscreen pops on."REBEL PE'TAQ, YOU WILL RETURN MY MATE!" Churas screams into the viewscreen, a drop of spittle flying and landing on the pickup. "RETURN HIM -NOW-, AND I WILL MAKE YOUR DEATH EASY!"

On the other half of the screen is an almost-reflection of Robert Harris, a bit younger and sporting a goatee, looking rather non-plussed as he leans back in his command chair in his dark reflection of the familiar 23rd century Starfleet uniform. "I'm willing to discuss returning him, in return for..."

What he was going to say never escapes his lips. "THERE WILL BE NO DISCUSSION, PE'TAQ! GRE'THOR WILL BE PAVED WITH YOUR ASHES AFTER MY FATHER HAS FINISHED WITH YOU!" And then Churas cuts the commlink, and the viewscreen resets.

The communications officer looks sheepish for a moment. "Sorry, sir. It was a broadband signal."

. o O Hurley can't hold her emotions any longer. She's *TERRIFIED* of what she just witnessed. Absolutely, breath-takingly, terrified.

Takamura listens carefully to the information he's been given. He's about to speak when the viewscreen catches his attention. Quirking a brow, he watches the exchange attentively. "Mr. Foster, set course for Bak'TUR, maximum warp. That was the last known location of Ensign Hurley and this Harris might provide a distraction for us."

Valentine looks up at the viewscreen, quirking an eyebrow. She comments, not.

. o O Valentine thinks "Kid or Taimol? And who /does/ have him, whoever 'he' is?"

. o O Takamura thinks "Much as this seems wrong, I have a gut feeling this is the right place to look for her. If nothing else, we can find out what's going on with Harris providing a distraction. If she's not there, we head to Okuda Sector."

Haven rolls her eyes as she listens. Klingons. Oy. "I certainly wouldn't want to get caught up in the cross fire of that little show down. Not is this Harris is anything like ours." She just shakes her head and taps her console, keeping an eye on the ion trail left by the Constitution class ahead of them. Just making sure they are following the ship still.

Once again, Foster only responds with an, "Aye, aye, sir." His fingers dance over the console, "Course to Bak'TUR laid in, engaging at Warp 9.2." He adds, "If we can push the engines slightly harder..." A glance towards Krylow. "... even managing to maintain Warp 9.3, it will cut about five minutes off of our travel time."

Finally, Hurley doesn't look irritated or angry any longer. The transmission has her attention quickly and immediately; her eyes fly open, jaw drops and breath simply catches in her throat. When she does actually move again, it's to visibly tremble, arms hugging against her chest tighter as she tries to calm herself again. "It's unwise to get into her way," she finally speaks out, voice trembling as much as her body does. "If they.. if they have Master Taimol, she will rip through us like tissue paper..."

Nabrun looks from the view screen to Hurley then back again, though she remains quiet.

Soral tilts his head to the side at listening to the communique, but then turns to look at Hurley, still the same, studying expression on his face. No words come from him at this time.

GAME: Valentine spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Valentine (claiming advantage) contests her Propulsion Engineering (Warp Drive) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Fails!

Takamura shakes his head at Foster. "Warp 9.2 will be fine. I don't want us to push the engines anymore than we have to. I'd rather have the ship in good shape incase we have a fight on our hands." He glances quickly over his shoulder at Hurley, but doesn't say a word to her. Looking over to Foster, he motions his hand forward. "Engage."

Krylow catches Foster's glance and then turns to Valentine. "Propulsion's your area. I'm learning from you there, so give it whi...." He trails off as he hears Takamura and simply nods, eyes going back down to his console.

"We remain dead on, following the ion trail of the Constitution class" comments Haven from the Science console.

Albertz quietly watches the bridge crew go through it's paces. There's not much a doctor can do at this stage, so he stand unobtrusively to one side and waits.

. o O Nabrun thinks "Dead on. What an unfortunate choice of phrase, Loni. Please don't have jinxed us."

. o O Krylow is starting to feel a little more anxious as time goes on. He's still focused one the mission.

The terrified expression hasn't left Hurley's eyes, but has instead enhanced a wild-eyed gaze of astonishment at Tak. "You don't know this woman! You don't understand! You're going to get us /all killed/! And for what? For a lead you don't even know will /go anywhere/?!"

Nabrun tilts her head to the side slightly, then straightens, watching Hurley carefully.

The next hour and a half passes quickly, with everyone going rather efficiently about their work. As Bak'TUR appears on the viewscreen, an orbital battle takes center stage.

Bajoran raiders and a Constitution-class starship race through rather complicated attack patterns, firing over and over again into what is, quite possibly, the largest Klingon ship ever constructed in any universe. Easily three times the size of a Galaxy-class starship and bristling with more weapons than is right or holy, it bears down on the far smaller ships.

Bordering on the edge of the miraculous, the Terran ships manage to weave through most of the Klingon ship's fire, although the raiders take far more hits than the larger Starfleet ship.

The comms hum with chatter, some familiar voices, some not. "I can't take another hit like that," yells Randal Thorne. "She -had- to go and call daddy, didn't she?!"

"Wing, come to 241 mark 89," orders Jim Stewart.

"Are you insane?" sneers Minos Evanginor. "We can't take the fire coming from that photon battery!"

"Damn it," growls a very irritated Hiroshi Takamura. "Stick with those damned 'Fleeters. The Klingons can't hit them!"

"This is /Gr'laH/?" Megan Donavon demands. "What /idiot/ thought up this plan?"

"This idiot," fires back Robert Harris. "Cut the chatter and concentrate fire on the bridge."

When the Thomas Paine comes out of warp into the thick of battle, Takamura calls out. "Computer, red alert. Shields up. Foster, set an intercept course for the Klingon ship. I recognize those voices as the people from the cell we were going to contact. If we help them, it will give us a bargaining chip. Haven, take Tactical. I know you're rated for it. Soral, take her place at Sciences. Valentine and Krylow, give us all the power you can."

The computer acknowledges Takamura with a bleep.

The red alert klaxon sounds throughout the ship.

Valentine looks up sharply- she recognizes those voices too. "Aye, sir!" She works frantically at rerouting power where it will do the most good.

GAME: Krylow spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Krylow (claiming advantage) contests his Shipboard Systems (Engineering) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

. o O Takamura thinks "Why is it things always have to go down the hard way?"

. o O Hurley thinks "Oh god. We're going to die. We're going to die at ChuraS's hands. Because of this. FOOLISHNESS!"

Krylow nods to Takamura and begins to work at his station. "Bringing all the power reserves online, Lieutenant. That should be everything extra the Paine has to give," he has, still looking at the console.

Haven with a blink, she listens to voices she's knows, some for years, and she shakes her head. Bloody hell. Then Tak issues orders, she blinks over at him and nods, twisting in her seat to move over to tactical. With a few taps, the console is ready. "Tactical on line and ready to go on your order."

. o O Krylow thinks "You know, I really wish we were in the Aegis right now. That's damn big ship.""

Albertz listens to the transmissions with a kind of horrible fascination, picking out familiar voices as they come across the line.

If people had thought they'd known Foster before, they would probably be surprised now. It's likely not even the Betazoid on the team is getting anything from him now, feelings or thought. His concentration is total as he shifts into what he was trained to do. He's a combat pilot, and this is a combat. Still, the woman ordered to Tactical isn't the one he's used to working with, and who knows what that might mean in the long run. "Intercept course laid in and engaged. Slowing to combat engagement speed." He asides, mostly to Krylow, "Keep an eye on the engines, in case I need to tap them fast." He /does/ know the Picard Manuever, after all, amongst others.

Hurley tries desperately, "Prime directive!" She's been pacing a small area of the bridge like a caged animal - a very nervous caged animal - who is helplessly watching her executioners approach. "Prime directive *demands* you not get involved! Think of the mess you all have historically already made, and continued to make! You're going to /make matters worse/!"

Nabrun assumes a "parade rest" stance, at least for a time, as she watches Hurley pace. The Betazoid's face is completely devoid of emotion and her concentration is on Hurley. It looks as if she'd knock the ensign out if it came down to it. She doesn't react to the other voices.

"Fascinating." Sorals short exclamation at noticing the large warship as he taps out a little on the data display and studies it intensely, only an occasional glimpse goes up and around the bridge to update himself of the status of those around. Takamuras relocation of personel gets a short eyebrow wiggle but he proceeds to Sciences to relief Haven. "Very well."

The communications panel whistles. "This is the Starfleet vessel Exeter. Identify yourself, please." That perky voice, even in combat, can't be denied. Christine Hurley has managed to get herself in the middle of the mess on the viewscreen -- where one of the raiders explodes in a fireball and goes skidding across the hull of the Klingon behemoth.

Takamura directs a quick look at Hurley when she makes her outburst. "Nabrun and Albertz, please make sure our /guest/ behaves herself on my bridge." He then returns his attention to the viewscreen, grinning when he hears that voice. "Open a channel. Exeter, This is the USS Thomas Paine, Lieutenant Takamura commanding. It's good to hear your voice, Ensign. How may we be of assistance?"

Valentine grimaces at the Mirror Hurley's words as she works. "She's got a poi-" Head snaps up. Fingers never stop working, going by instinct. "Chris! Found by friends indeed!"

. o O Takamura feels shock and relief at the sound of Hurley's voice.

. o O Takamura thinks "Well, we found her. Now we have to survive this battle and get her aboard the Paine."

Krylow still watches his console, quiet except when responding to an order. He doesn't know the real Hurley very well so her voice wouldn't produce much response. He does spare a nod to respond to Foster.

<CONTEST> Soral contests his Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

Haven glances at Tak. "Two Takamura's on that combat channel? Something is going to get messed up, Tak" she points out softly, as they all heard the mirror Tak just moments ago. She's not looking at him but at her console, already dialing in firing patterns.

Albertz nods silently at Takamura's order. The doctor moves over to the pair, standing by Hurley so he and Nabrun flank her. Apparently he hopes the addition of another person by her side will be enough to quiet her down.

"Two minutes to firing range of the Klingon vessel at current speed, sir," is the only phrase that comes from the Conn position.

. o O Valentine thinks "She's alive? Now how the /hell/ did she get on that ship?!?"

. o O Nabrun thinks "Can't they just beam her aboard THIS ship, we'll beam the other Hurley aboard THAT ship, and we can all go home?"

"Impossible," Hurley mutters, widened eyes fixing on the viewscreen and jaw slacking slightly.. "It's.. simply.. not.. possible.. /How/ could she have survived?" She is now completely oblivious to the officers flanking her, attention held by what sounds like her own voice over the communication channels.

Nabrun finally speaks, for the first time in almost two hours. "Christine," she says softly, "Please calm down. I don't know either, but it's happened."

Soral familiarizes himself with his new station, pulling up data on the ships around the Paine. a soft shaking of his head the only reaction to the Klingon ship's superior weaponry.

"I hope you remembered the chocolate!" Christine calls over the comm channel as an explosion sounds behind her. "Grandfat... Captain Harris says we're a little too busy at the moment to drop me off, but he'll try to get me over there just as soon as possible. In the meantime, we could use some help!"

On the viewscreen, the raiders and the Constitution regroup, then blister across the Klingon's hull once again.

"Of course I did, Ensign," Takamura reassures. Over his shoulder, he says to the other Hurley, "You better start believing in the impossible. Foster, close to weapons range. Haven, target the Klingon's weapon systems. Let's see if that will take some of the heat off the resistance."

Valentine snorts softly, overhearing the Hurley on the bridge with her. "She's a Harris," is her only answer to the whole survival question. Then her eyes widen at Takamura's orders, and she spares a wide-eyed look toward him. "Sir, we /can't/! The Prime Directive..."

Krylow glances up from the console, and watches the viewscreen. He's frowning now as he watches, but doesn't say anything.

Haven weee's and loves to be ignored. With a shake of her head, she focuses on the job at hand. She watches the the batter go back and forth about Prime Directive violations against the threat and the need to complete the mission. In the end, it's Tak's call.

Albertz looks over at Nabrun with raised eyebrows when Takamura gives the order to fire.

. o O Albertz isn't at all pleased with the order. But he holds his tongue, there being a time and a place for that sort of argument.

"45 seconds to combat range at current speed," Foster intones from his position at the Conn. "Sir," he adds. "A two second jump to warp would put us right in their face. It might surprise them. If we can target their weapons array, we might be able to disable some of them."

Caught between terror and complete /shock/, the 'beloved' Mirror-Hurley just *stares* at the viewscreen. "Prime Directive," she mutters again, though this time much less forcefully, afterall, she's too busy trying to figure out how in the world this Harris Spawn could survive Churas and Taimol Edan once already and she could press her luck by going on twice.

Nabrun meets Albertz eyes, her face gone a bit pale. The contact lasts for only a second before she closes her eyes, briefly. A hand clenches at her side and she reaches toward Hurley, as if to calm the other woman.

Soral looks at the data presenting itself. "Mr. Takamura, I assume I do not need to advise you on the probability of an successful attack run like this. The Paine is not even remotely a match for the Klingon vessel. A first estimate, taking into account the composition of the fleet attacking the vessel already, our odds of survival in this confrontation are" he raises and turns around to finish the sentence "ten thousand, sevenhundred and fourty-two - to one."

. o O Takamura thinks "I just need to buy us enough time to get Christine off that ship. Ghorev knew we might have to make a fight of it."

As the Paine crosses the threshhold into the Klingon ship's weapons range, threat alarms start chiming as multiple weapons batteries lock onto the ship. A rough Klingon voice sounds from the speakers -- Gr'laH, it seems, is unhappy. "Surrender, Terrans, or -die-." The fleet regroups for another assault, Stewart's voice cutting out of the chatter mid-sentence as another raider flashes out of existance.

Takamura leans forward in his chair, his own game face on. "Our mission is to rescue Ensign Hurley. The ship she is aboard is under attack. If we do not assist, the Exeter will surely be destroyed and our mission will be a failure. Foster, give us that burst. Haven, be ready with the phasers as soon as we come out of the warp burst. This ship has taken on the Iconians and won. She can get us past some Klingons."

Valentine starts to open her mouth, then gets a good look at Tak's face. Her protest was noted; she shuts up, fairly sure that further pointing out of facts would be fairly useless.

After watching the screen for a moment Alek glances back down the console. "Engineering standing by sir," adds Alek simply, probably just to say something. He glances briefly to Valentine and then back to the console.

GAME: Foster spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Foster (claiming advantage) contests his Shipboard Systems (Flight Control) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Succeeds!

. o O Nabrun gets a mental picture of Ghorev as a half-fuzzed, huge blue beaver, nibbling on a PADD as if it were a piece of wood. That switches, immediately, to Tak as a glorious bull, resplendent, standing on the head of a pin and looking utterly baffled.

. o O Valentine thinks "Oh God, Hiro, I want her back too, but that's not the point and neither is the mission. She's a Starfleet officer; she's expected to sacrifice herself for the Directive if necessary. We all are."

<CONTEST> Haven contests her Shipboard Systems (Tactical) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!

Foster nods to himself, taking a moment to lift his hands and crack his knuckles, then stretch the fingers slightly. "Warp jump on my mark." He places his hands on the console before him and states, "Mark." Suddenly, the viewscreen blurs and, well, the phrase 'in their face' takes on a new definition as the Thomas Paine jumps to within low double-digit kilometers of the Klingon vessel in a fly-by. "Fire at will."

. o O Hurley emotionally reels as the panic starts to build. She's seen these odds before - when she was enslaved at just about every stage of her life. And, the panic brings the thought of her last encounter with the mysteriously lucky Christine Hurley, and how she shoved Christine into a closet and ran - ran as fast as she could, just hoping to get out of the palace before she was found out and now, here she is, facing the same haunting terror that filled her months ago.

"We're going to die," Mirror-Hurley merely whimpers not even above a whisper, widened eyes staring at the viewscreen. "We're all going to die.. to rescue *one woman*. An ensign at that. We're going to lose this ship and we're going to die, and she's going to die and our deaths will be for nothing.."

. o O Krylow thinks "Once more into the breach, dead friends. Things are about to get ugly."

Haven picks a really had time to glare over at MR Hurley. "Would you just shut up?" she hisses before looking back at her console. She shakes her head as she enters the firing order. Whoops.. was that a 3.. or a 6? Crap, too late. The shot is off and goes wide. Well crap.

. o O Foster isn't letting ANYTHING out. Nothing. Nada. It's like he's a dead space in the wide circle of life that is human mental and emotional states, yep. Not even there. Hopefully that will console him when the Klingon ship blows him (and the rest of the people) to kingdom come.

Albertz's grip on the strap of his medkit tightens. In anticipation, perhaps. Trading phaser blasts always results in exploding consoles. And the faces. Oh the toasted faces!

Nabrun touches Mirror Hurley's arm, or tries to. "We're going to be quiet and let them do their work," she murmurs quietly. "This is MY team. I trust them. We will get home. If it helps, just close your eyes and think of England." She offers a faint smile.

. o O Albertz thinks "England?! BAH!"

Soral simply monitors the output of the science console, no word for either Hurley nor the others. The later since he has no new facts to report.

<CONTEST> Klingon Behemoth contests his Shipboard Systems (Tactical) skill vs Foster's Shipboard Systems (Flight Control) skill and Fails!

The Klingon ship opens up on the Paine, but Foster's manuever caught them off guard -- all the shots go wide. At this range, it's clear that this ship is just barely this side of a Borg cube in side. The Exeter and the remaining raiders race past once again, spitting fire in all directions -- but their little fleet is slowly getting torn apart.

<CONTEST> Soral contests his Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

. o O Haven thinks "You are a dollop of freshly made whipped cream floating on a warm bed of chocolaty delight. Yea.. that's the groove. Feel the foamy froth tantalizing your senses. The sweet aroma surrounding you in a cloud of goodness. The sinful wonder carrying you away where the meanies can't reach you. A fluffy marshmallow, dead center, holding steady so a core can be reached. Now open your eyes, quit the crap, and fire the damn weapons!"

. o O Nabrun thinks "Deities Bless, Loni. Now is NOT the time to remind me of my addiction. Though, mmmmm. Whipped cream on chocolaty delight. A mug of hot cocoa right now would be just the thing. Granted, I'd throw it all up again, but it'd be nice to hold the mug."

Takamura grips his armrest bracing for the worst when the disruptor fire lances out at then. When all the shots go wide, he nods faintly. "Excellent flying, Foster. Let's give Haven another go at that thing. Valentine and Soral, see if you can find a waekness in that beast. We have to find a way to slow it down."

. o O Nabrun is, apparently, pretending to be an oasis of calm in the middle of a battle. The mental image of a rather rotund feline, behind in the air, head buried in the sofa cushions, comes to mind. A little thought bubble appears over the feline's head that is, essentially, if I can't see it, it's not happening.

Valentine waves a hand distractedly in Hurley's direction. "Would somebody please hit that woman over the head with a brick or something?" she requests quietly, working on power allocations and shield configurations. Glancing over a series of readouts, she comments, "Aye, sir. Y'know, retreat on our and the rebels' parts sounds like a really good idea right now." And gets to wrok on the weakness thing.

GAME: Krylow spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Krylow (claiming advantage) contests his Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

GAME: Haven spends a courage point.

. o O Valentine thinks "Great. We're gonna die, and not even for a good reason this time. This is /stupid/."

<CONTEST> Haven (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Tactical) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

. o O Takamura thinks "Something. We have to at least scratch that thing. If we can't slow it down, running away will do us no good."

. o O Hurley thinks "Hit me over a brick. Hah. Maybe /this/ universe isn't quite as barbaric as I'd thought. At least it's not human against human here."

Krylow doesn't seem to worry about Mirror Hurley. He's gone to work on something at his station, and focuses on it. After a moment he frowns deeply, and glances up briefly before glancing back down to the console.

Haven is back on track, it seems as this time her firing pattern is a solid hit, full volley of weapons. She frowns after the hot is made. "Wow.. that only dropped them about 5. their shields are really strong. Suggest locating a potential weak spot.. or we'll be at this awhile."

GAME: Takamura spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Takamura (claiming advantage) contests his Command (Starship) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Dramatically Succeeds!

"Sounds good to me, sir," comes Foster's voice, though it seems rather detached. "Respectfully, the way that thing moves, I could run rings around it all day. In the Aegis. With one warp nacelle inactive." No, not bragging, just Putting Down The Enemy. Not that it hurts the Klingons, but hey, it helps his own confidence. Not that it need much help on the worst of days. "However, if that thing DOES hit us, it could, quite possibly, punch right through our shields and disable or destroy us in one shot. I second the motion for a tactical retreat. After leaving our mark, so to speak."

The touch from Nabrun is acknowledged as Mirror Hurley simply looks at her and pulls her arm away to return to her nervous pacing over a small area in the back of the bridge. She is, for all intents and purposes, terrified.

Nabrun returns to a relaxed, attentive stance. Her back's to what's going on on the viewscreens and attention is focused on Hurley.

"I already predicted this request, Lieutenant and have taken the liberty of conducting an appropriate evaluation already. Mr. Valentine, I am sending you data to correlate with my findings." Soral resonds to Tak at first before turning to Valentine. "The aft ventral shields of the Behemoth derivate from the optimal efficiency and oscillate at a 0.03981 phase variance. See if you can not compute the offset needed to momentarily puncture the vessels shields at the point indicated on the schematics i send you to take out the generator." And thereby bringing the shields down.

<CONTEST> Klingon Behemoth contests his Shipboard Systems (Tactical) skill vs Foster's Shipboard Systems (Flight Control) skill (given advantage) and Fails!

The Klingon vessel belches more fire, but Foster's manuevers keep the hits from landing and breaking the Paine's back.

In the meantime, Christine's voice comes back on the comms. "We've noticed an oscillation in the aft shields, but we need help bringing them down. Captain Harris says he can launch me in an escape pod before making the attack run."

<CONTEST> Haven (claiming advantage) contests her Shipboard Systems (Tactical) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

Takamura glances in the Vulcan's direction with a nod. "Very good, Doctor Soral. Valentine get that variance and give it to Haven. Target their shield generators and then prepare a tractor beam to lock onto that escape pod." Into the comm, he replies, "Hurley, tell Captain Harris, we've noticed the same thing and are targeting the shield generator. Once the shields are down, have the Exeter disable their engines so we can fall back. We'll have a tractor beam ready to bring your pod to us."

Valentine tilts her head slightly, catching Soral's words. If anything, her hunched position of concentration gets even more intense. After a few seconds, her shoulders stiffen. "Confirmed." She looks toward Haven, driving the calculated data toward the tactical station, her tone and expression utterly neutral. "Take out that generator, and their aft ventral shield goes down." Looking up at hearing the message from the more familiar Hurley, she gives it one more shot. "Lieutenant," low voice, aimed below the pickup, "Let's pick her up and /go/. This isn't our battle."

GAME: Krylow spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Krylow (claiming advantage) contests his Systems Engineering (Weapons) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

Krylow is still working on something or another at his console, but not having a whole lot of luck based on the deepening frown. He mumbles something and glances up to the viewscreen to see what's happening.

. o O Takamura thinks "What do you think I was going to do, Tara? Didn't you hear me say to fall back?"

Haven's brows shoot up. Wha? Hot Hands on the flight controls to keep us in one piece, precise fire patterns.. and in the middle of this all, a pod we'd need to tractor or try to beam aboard in battle?! Madness. Oh yes, madness. With a low groan, she shakes her head as she reads over the new data piped in from Val's console. With a swift and accurate change in her firing pattern, she sends a full volley off, "Weapons away..tracking.. " There is a pause as she tracks the firing arch. Direct hit. "Aft-ventral shields are down!" she calls out, more then loud enough to be picked up on the open link between their vessels.

Albertz just kind of stands there, watching the battle unfold and trying very hard to look...cool?

Foster continues, effectively, bobbing and weaving, though the image of that - a rather large spaceship dodging the 'punches' of an much larger one - is rather comical. "Respectfully, sir," he begins again. "Recommend not having Ensign Hurley launched in an escape pod until that behemoth's weapons are offline or we are at least twice as far as the outside range of those weapons. I know of humans on our side of the mirror who would think nothing of spitefully destroying a slow, relatively-defenseless escape pod, to say nothing of the Klingons on this side. They might target it just to spite us, since they can't hit us. If this Gr'laH is anything like ours, he knows how important it is to demoralize us." Yes, there's the confidence in there, but there's also real worry, apparently about Hurley. He might not live on 419 anymore, but she WAS his neighbor.

Hurley draws in a deep breath and looks between each of the officers on the bridge with a pause in her pacing. But, with nothing more to say that would allow her to remain conscious, she returns to her nervous pacing, hands now wringing with worry.

. o O Hurley thinks "Why am I even here? What good am I? Here I stand, on a bridge of a ship commanded by a Japanese monkey and some sort of ragtag group of Starfleet and Timefleet officers to save.. well, me, from a fate so much better than what I with."

. o O Hurley thinks "..what I was living with."

<CONTEST> Klingon Behemoth contests his Shipboard Systems (Tactical) skill vs Foster's Shipboard Systems (Flight Control) skill (given advantage) and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Klingon Behemoth contests his Shipboard Systems (Tactical) skill vs Foster's Shipboard Systems (Flight Control) skill (given advantage) and Fails!

<CONTEST> Valentine contests her Coordination skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Foster contests his Coordination skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Nabrun contests her Coordination skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

<CONTEST> Nabrun contests her Fitness (Vitality) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Hurley contests her Coordination skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

<CONTEST> Hurley contests her Fitness (Vitality) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Krylow contests his Coordination skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

<CONTEST> Soral contests his Coordination skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Krylow contests his Fitness (Vitality) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!

<CONTEST> Takamura contests his Coordination skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

<PROVE> Haven has the merit of Excellent Balance at 1.

<CONTEST> Haven (claiming advantage) contests her Coordination skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

As the Paine swoops away, the Klingon ship lands a blow... and what a blow it is. The ship drops sickeningly downward, with collision alert alarms sounding as the behemoth lurches sickeningly close before twirling away. Sparks fly from the ceiling and most consoles, the normal lights flicker out to be replaced by emergency lights, and an unused science station actually catches fire.

On the viewscreen, the Exeter sweeps past with the remaining raiders. A hull plate on the port side of the engineering section flies off and an escape pod launches at a high rate of speed before something extremely unusual happens -- the entire saucer of the Exeter detaches and rams directly into the aft end of the Klingon monster ship. The aft end of the Klingon vessel crumples, and then the warp core breaches, creating yet another explosion which slams the Thomas Paine about all over again.

<CONTEST> Albertz contests his Coordination skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

. o O Hurley thinks "How.. can I face her? God, once she tells everyone else..."

Takamura grips the armrests of the command chair as the Thomas Paine rocks under the heavy fire of the Klingon Behemoth. His eyes widen as he watches the Exeter rams into the giant monster. Pointing at the screen, his hand follows the trajectory of the escape pod. "Lock onto that pod and get it aboard. Foster, once the pod is secured, get us out of here."

Valentine looks up just in time to watch the collision, her expression turning to one of horror. Some piece of training comes back to her in time for her to grab at her console, steadying herself against the shock wave of the dying ship. Ships. "Oh God..." she whispers.

. o O Takamura thinks "Spirits protect you, Robert Harris. Thank you for giving us our Christine back."

When the ship shakes, Alek tries to steady himself on the console. That doesn't work as his hand slides off and he slams into the console left arm and shoulder first. When he starts to push himself back up, the left arm is just limp.

Yeehaw! Ride'em cowboy! Loni rides out the waves that follow their last volley of fire. This is so much fun. Ahem. She holds herself steady as the ship bucks. "firing pattern remains locked in.." she calls out as her hands remain on console. "Just in case they can still get a shot off."

After falling to the floor, but managing to roll and thus avoiding injury, Mirror Hurley looks up. "I..." shestutters, watching the explosions on the viewscreen. "I.. don't want to go back." She looks directly at Tak and states with a slight tremble, "Leave me with one of the Resistance fighers."

Nabrun ends up tripping over her own two feet in an attempt to make a grab for Hurley. It looked like she was trying to -help- the prisoner, but the Betazoid ends up face first, chewing floor. She lays there, stunned for a moment, then pushes up to her feet again, a little slowly.

<CONTEST> Soral contests his Shipboard Systems (Sensors) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Soral contests his Shipboard Systems (Transporter) skill vs a difficulty of Routine and Succeeds! Charity has disconnected.

. o O Krylow is in severe pain from his left arm and shoulder.

Soral holds onto the science console to keep himself upright. After the explosion he voices, "Total casulties on the Behemoth 2018, none on the Exeter." beat some more typing, "the pod got beamed abroad successfully and... the quantum signature checks out to be from our reality, it is Christine Hurley."

Foster's face takes on an almost catlike grin as he rides out the shock of the blow to the Thomas Paine. "Well served, Gr'laH," he murmurs to himself. "But that would have been the last shot you got to take at me, even without the current situation. K'plah, Gr'laH." He's not so much talking to this Gr'laH as to any of them. He'd had a lot of respect for the Klingon Ambassador. He clears his throat, and says, louder, "Executing 'Getting Us Out Of Here' Manuever. Setting course for position of Station 419-Upsilon on our side of the mirror. Engaging at Warp 6."

. o O Valentine thinks "It shouldn't have happened. We shouldn't have interfered. Two thousand lives... gone, just like that. Starfleet... Timefleet?... murdering again for its own purposes."

And one or two people go flying, so the Doctor finally moves from his position at the back of the room with all the cool kids. Giving everyone a quick onceover with the eyes, the doctor nods. No blood and guts anywhere, always a good sign. So, Alek Krylow gets the magic sponge, that arm is probably needed to run the console. Moving to his station, the doctor begins a scan of the Ensign's arm.

. o O Valentine is more than a little shaky there, knowing very well her own actions and their consequences in that battle. If she hadn't passed on that shield information to Haven...

. o O Albertz finally comes to. A raging space battle is all well and good, but he doesn't see much point in getting worked up over something he has no control over. So he views it as he would the kiddies having a kickaroud down at the local park. Once there are injured crewers, though, he kicks into overdrive...mind racing through assessments and possible treatments. There is a thought, deep down, that he'd have been quite content staying at the back of the bridge. All things considered.

With the sky clear of hostiles and the request of the Mirror-Hurley, Takamura calls to the helm. "Belay that order, Mr. Foster. Set a parallel course with the Resistance ships." Looking to Valentine, he says, "Damage report. Excellent job, Doctor Soral. Doctor Albertz, once you've seen to the casualties on the bridge, check on Ensign Hurley."

Valentine closes her eyes briefly in deference to those two thousand-odd lives snuffed out, then comes out of her reverie quickly to start coding the transport device for a destination in their home universe. Her expression remains tight. "/Outside/ the station, if you please. Don't land us in the middle of the bulkheads, Lt. Foster," she mentions. "I'm fairly sure Lt. Harris would be at least mildly upset if that happened." At Tak's orders, though, she merely bends over her station to retrieve the damage information. "Retrieving, sir."

. o O Nabrun thinks "You know, I was utterly useless. Why did Tak even want me along? They had what they needed to spot the real Hurley. At least I'm not injured. Let's see...Oh, look. Alek's injured. I'm going to keep my stomach where it is for now. I just watched 2000 people die."

Krylow takes a slow breath, and pretty much ignores Albertz. He glances to Valentine, mumbling, "You've got Engineering," before moving to push himself up and step out of the way. The whole time he doesn't move his left arm, or shoulder and his teeth are gritted painfully.

Krylow stands and leaves Engineering.

Now that order gets a look from Haven. "You're sending her back?" she questions, no small amount of shock in her tone. "I admit that I don't know all the ins and outs of the Command mind but.. The last time I spoke with Miss Hurley, she wasn't exactly forth coming with information the bosses deemed necessary..." As she speaks to Tak, her fingers are bringing up a damage report on the tactical systems.

. o O Krylow thinks "At least now I can get out of Valentine's way without looking like an idiot."

Albertz follows beside Krylow, he can do medicine on the fly, no worries. "Och, nice break. Two of them, in fact. It'll take some time tae knit those. And we'll have tae do that back home. In the meantime...." Hamish rummages through his kit and produces a hypospray, "This'll get rid of the pain and keep the fractures from worsening. Nae tennis or arm wrestling for ye today."

"If that were the case, at least this time a ship crashed into the station, they'd keep us in the loop instead of ignoring us," Foster mutters VERY quietly to himself. He seems to do that a lot: talking to himself. But you know what they say about seeking out intelligent conversations and all that. Or maybe it's just old Starfleet Academy mneumonics still speaking through him. Louder, he says, "Course cancelled. Programming new course to meet the Exeter and other Resistance vessels. Engaging." Once again, there is the blurring of the viewscreen, but it lasts a bit longer this time, before coming back out near the vessels as they move away from the massive collision.

Hurley's eyes fall on Haven, now irritation growing again. "I'm *here*. The deal was I come along on this fool-hearty mission and help if needed. I came along, I wasn't needed, but regardless, I held up my end of the bargain. Are you suggesting Command renig on their promise of freedom?"

Nabrun moves back to a seat and just settles down, eyes moving over everyone present. They linger, briefly, on Alek as he receives treatment, but she makes no move to interfere.

Soral continues some generic scans of the area and the other vessels present, back to the usual. If he has any considerations about what just transpired in this universe, he does not show it. This is not the time or place for critique.

Takamura rises from his seat, turning around to face the others with his arms behind his back. "Miss Hurley agreed to the terms presented to her by Station Command. They stated that she would assist us and possibly accompany us on this mission. She came with us, risking her own life. Her assets turned out not to be required. She fulfilled her obligation. Once we are sure that Ensign Hurley is alive and well, I will fulfill Starfleet's obligation. Now, would one of our fine doctors please tend to the Ensign so we can conclude our business here and we can all go home."

Valentine looks toward Krylow, and nods, keying to refer damage info to the main engineering console, which she signs into. After a moment, she frowns at the readouts. "Moderate damage to all systems, sir, nothing major. Everything works, but she'll be sluggish." She glances toward Foster, then back to the screens to continue reading off, "Ventral shields at twenty-eight percent, all other shields at seventy-five percent." She gives the nearest bulkhead a 'no worries, we'll take care of you' pat, paying no attention to the debate over the the Mirror Hurley's fate or destination.

. o O Valentine thinks "/Home/. Weird, it's a wonderful word now, just like it was when I was trapped here."

Krylow glances up to Takamura, still gritting his teeth. "I'm fine Lieutenant, let's just go," he says, making a shooing motion to Albertz. "Go see to Ensign Hurley, Doctor," he says.

Haven shrugs, "What the hell. You got a 'get out of jail free' card, lady. I do hope you enjoy it." She has no problem meeting that irritated gaze given her. Eye contact only breaks when her console beeps with the results of her damage check. "Moderate damage was taken to all weapons systems, Lieutenant. My protest for this course of action can be duly noted to the command log." Then she returns her gaze to the terminal before.

. o O Takamura thinks "Well, I can see I've definitely been Mr. Popularity today. Just about every order I've given has been questioned."

Alek taken care of, Albertz hurries off the bridge to the medical bay. After a couple of minutes his voice sounds over the comsystem. "Albertz tae bridge, we've got our Ensign Hurley on board. She's rather bashed about, a trio of broken ribs...a concussion...some internal injuries. Nothing a sleep-over in the infirmary wilnae fix."

. o O Krylow is still feeling pain, but as the doctor's hypo kicks in that fades, and is mostly replaced by relief and anger.

And Foster still believes he can fly rings around that Klingon vessel. And the truth is: he can. Anyone can get one lucky shot in - that's why there's more than one person manning a vessel, more than one expert on a mission, in the first place. That said, he makes pace with the lead vessel and settles in. Something is patently bothering him, though it seems that he's not going to comment on it.

"Somehow," Mirror Hurley notes with a hint of venom, "I'm not *terribly* surprised that there are those in Starfleet who would much rather mislead me to gain a stronger stake in their aims. I don't see, in that case, how *you're*," the implication is clearly to Haven, "any better than any of those who you all protest to be ammoral and 'selfish'. Yes, let's consider it a 'Get-Out-Of-Jail-Free' card. Because that's a lot easier to swallow than actually *keeping promises* and not *misleading* people with nothing to live for." Slowly, she looks around the bridge in disgust, then turns with her arms against her chest and back to the rest of the crew. "And I thought my life could be better in that universe. At least here you know you're on your own and everyone else will stab you in the back if they desire to get ahead. You're expecting it *here*."

Nabrun stands up and turns to face Mirror Hurley. The Betazoid's face is perfectly blank, showing no emotion. "Sit down and shut up," she tells Mirror Hurley, her voice very, very quiet. "You have five seconds to make up your mind before I administer a sedative, for your own safety and the safety of this crew. This is not a request. Sit. Down. Shut. Up. You will be released as soon as we can safely do it." No affect whatsoever. She does, however, add a very quiet "Please," do the end of it.

. o O Nabrun thinks "I am done. I have had enough. We don't need to worry about damage from within when we're limping back."

. o O Takamura thinks "That ungrateful little wench. I stick up for her and she lashes out at us. Gratitude is definitely /not/ one of her strongpoints."

. o O Nabrun is suddenly shocked by something, and the anger starts to broil, very quietly.

. o O Takamura feels frustrated and a bit angry.

. o O Hurley is absolutely - furious - now. She lacks energy, which is her only saving grace at the moment.

. o O Nabrun thinks "GRATITUDE. She was locked in a PRISON for months with no medical attention and no counseling. NOTHING but Starfleet Security Detail interrogating her. And you want GRATITUDE? I CAN diagnose you as dillusional, LT Takamura."

. o O Hurley thinks "Shut up? SHUT UP?! They're /DEBATING/ whether to keep a promise to me or not over a technicalitly and I'm told to /SHUT UP/? When I have *nothing* left to live for; when I would assume to roll over and die than eat another prison ration - which is exactly where *she* wants me to return.. I'm told to /shut up/ or face being sedated? What the hell kind of Starfleet is this anyway?"

Takamura listens to Albertz's update and nods. "Well, that seems to make things final. Ensign Hurley will recover from her injuries." He slowly gazes at each person on the bridge. "Starfleet made a deal with Miss Hurley and I intend to keep it. Now, if everyone will keep thier commentaries down, I will contact the lead Resistance vessel and arrange transport for her. Lieutenant Haven, open a channel, please."

. o O Nabrun thinks "Ah. After referring to her as ungrateful. After the...Oh, nevermind. I give up."

. o O Nabrun is tired and thoroughly disgusted. At this point, she's looking forward to getting back to the station and dealing with the cleanup.

. o O Takamura thinks "The sooner I can get her off my ship, the better. I'm tired of her attitude and the reactions of the crew. If she doesn't like our universe, then she can stay here where she belongs."

. o O Krylow thinks "Why don't we throw her out an airlock. Maybe that will show our appreciation for her risking her life."

Krylow glances to Nabrun and raises an eyebrow and then offers her a little smile and a small nod. "Very nice," he says quietly to her. He glances to Mirror Hurley. Its not an angry look or a spiteful look, but just a sad look. He makes his way over close to Nabrun, finding a happy spot along to the wall to lean against.

. o O Hurley thinks "I will not return to that .. cursed .. cell. I won't do it. I. Will. Die. First."

Haven's gaze remains on Hurley for a moment longer. "Nothing is black and white and not everyone is lumped together into one pot. Not even in *your* world, Miss Hurley." And with that, she turns back to her console and opens a channel to the lead vessel, "Exeter, this is the USS Thomas Paine. Stand by for Lieutenant Takamura" she states over the channel then adds, "Channel open."

. o O Hurley's anger builds even more, but alas, her energy keeps her fists locked against her sides.

Albertz works quickly at treating Hurley down in the sickbay, glad that he's separate from the baiting of the Hurley back on the bridge.

Mirror Hurley gives Nabrun a defiant glare, arms still crossed over her chest, and the glare finds its way back to Haven again. To Nabrun, she says, "I'm doing nothing more than defending myself - something nobody else has bothered to do for well over a month now. Humanitarian concerns indeed." She does eventually fall silent, but her glare remains quite fixed on Haven despite what happens around her.

Nabrun looks at Hurley for a long moment, then says quietly, "ENS Hurley, if I thought it would help either of us, I would stand quite still while you took several punches at me, given what you've been through. Right now, I think the LT would probably have my hide if I tried that. Please...We just watched 2000 people die. It's time to go home." She turns and gives Alek a very tired smile, eyes moving to his shoulder, then back to his face.

Soral keeps any comment about the emotional currents to himself, however he studies the persons making such comments in all scrutiny, his eyebrows almost in constant movement. Just as he turns back to the console, a single word escapes him. "Intriguing."

After some discussion back and forth, and after this universe's Christine Hurley is transferred back to the ship under the command of Randal Thorne, the Thomas Paine makes for the location of the station before returning to the proper side of the looking glass... reappearing near Station 419, battered and beaten, but by no means broken. As she glides into her docking port, Robert Harris turns his attention from his viewport to offer a wan smile to a graying woman, connected to him by subspace from Earth.

"She's home, Jeanne, safe and sound. She's a little banged up, but she's home," he murmurs, sounding just the slightest bit guilty.

Tears start to glisten in the woman's eyes, and she dabs at them with a hankerchief. "My little girl... oh, my poor little girl. I never wanted her to join Starfleet. Not after what happened to you... and to my Robert." She pauses, gazing at the man across the lightyears for a long moment. "She -listens- to you. Tell her to come home to Earth."

Harris shakes his head. "You know that I won't do that, and that even if I did, she wouldn't listen. She's picked up some of my more... charming personality traits, like being stubborn as all hell."

"Yes, I know," Jeanne Hurley admits, releasing a soft sigh. "She won't. Please... please, just keep her safe?"

"With my life. I owe that to you," Rob replies, steel filling his tone. "I'm heading down to check on her. I'll let you know how she is."

Jeanne nods once, accepting that and ending the transmission. As his daughter-in-law vanishes from his terminal, Robert releases a soft sigh into the dimness of his quarters.

"Welcome home, kiddo."