Bringing Them Home

 Episode Name:  Bringing Them Home

   Written By:  Adama

         Cast:  Adama, Fioravanti, Foster, Harris, Hurley, Jatila, Krylow, P2348437, Takamura and Turtledove.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Adama

     Aired On:  Mon Feb 14 12:22:21 2005

     Stardate:  54754.4

The mission is set. An announcement from the Romulan Star Empire indicates the scheduled assassination of a number of people, including at least two familiar names, one Robert Hurley, and one Megan Donavon. The assigned crew of this joint mission also includes some familiar names.

* Lieutenant Robert Harris, husband to one and rumored to be father to the other.
* Lieutenant Hiroshi Takamura, the recently-married Timefleet Commander.
* Lieutenant Tera Turtledove, the Timefleet XO and specialist in all things stealthy.
* Lieutenant JG Caleb Foster, Timefleet pilot and Training Officer, assigned mostly to help the last, most surprising, member of the insertion team.
* Ensign Gabriella Fioravanti, called back from her mission on Fimdari to coordinate medical issues.
* Ensign Christine Hurley, daughter to one, granddaughter to the other.
* Ensign Alek Krylow, leading a team of Starfleet and Timefleet engineers.
* Jatila, newly-promoted to be Romulan Ambassador K'net-mauri Va'raeh's Adjutant. Scuttlebutt indicates that it is this person who is most responsible for this mission, that she provided, and continues to provide, the intelligence necessary for it.

The Thomas Paine is the ship-of-choice for this mission, due to its size. While there may have been other choices available, there was a chance that a ship as small as the Paine might be more easily ignored. Still, it is a risky mission: go deep into Romulan territory, invade a Tal Shiar base, and rescue those imprisoned there. And who knows what other missions the crewmembers might have in mind?

After being wished Fleetspeed and leaving Station 419-Upsilon, the border between Federation and Romulan space soon approaches...

Takamura sits in the command chair of the Thomas Paine, going over details for the mission. As they close in on the border, he calls out. "Prepare the ship to translate to the Mirror Universe. Once we're on the other side, we'll have to keep on our toes and avoid all contacts. Once we reach Tegedaar, we'll slip back into our Universe. Then the insertion team will disguise ourselves as Romulans. Lieutenant Foster and Ensign Hurley will remain aboard the Paine to support our ground operations. Serona Jatila has prepared identities, uniforms and equipment for our mission." The large man looks about at his crew to gauge their responses.

Fioravanti sits down at Science.

With a grim set to his features, Harris' hands work the Operations console. There's tension in his shoulders as he hunches over the console, gaze locked on his readouts. If he's worried or concerned about the conditions of the mission, he doesn't show it. He just continues his work in silence.

. o O Harris thinks, "We're coming, Meg. We're coming."

Standing quietly at tactical, on the other hand, Turtledove likely has a contrastingly soothing presence, her eyes soft with the light of the data before her, her fingers shifting lightly across the console. "Tactical is preparing for translation, Captain." She gives Takamura a quick, and very slight half-smile, before returning attention back to the work ahead.

Krylow is working away at Engineering, monitoring the ship. At Takamura's orders he glances up and nods to the Lieutenant. "Aye, sir." That said, he looks back to the engineering station, fingers gliding over the panel. A moment later he looks back up. "We're prepared for the changeover, sir. All systems are green."

Foster just nods, hands brushing the controls almost lovingly. "Showing all systems green. Ready to shift." If he's disappointed he's not going, he's not saying anything about it.

Fioravanti is seated and Sciences, medkit ready and stowed. While clearly picking up on the "somber" mood, for the most part, Brie almost exudes the "Let's rock and roll, people!" attitude. It's that professional mission adrenaline going. Everything's been checked and rechecked before she looks over to Tak, grinning. "Medical's ready, Sir," she says, looking as though she's got complete and utter confidence in Tak and the team.

This is one of those moments where the relationship between Harris and Hurley is obvious. For her part, Christine's attention is absolutely locked on her own displays and read-outs, currently scanning for any, positively *any* chatter that might be out there as well as going through situation possibilities in her mind, mirroring Harris' grim and determined expression. The only portion of Tak's mission order that incites any reaction from her is the announcement of intentionally crossing to the Mirror Universe. Her jaw sets even firmer and she holds her breath, but she refuses to react beyond that.

Takamura nods his approval at the reports as they come in. Taking a deep breath, he releases it slowly. "Very good. Mr. Krylow, activate the translation device." The 'Captain' grips the arms of his chair in preparation.

"Here's the fun part," Harris murmurs, pressing his eyes closed.

. o O Takamura thinks, "Alright, here we go. I hope we don't run into any trouble while over there."

. o O Takamura feels slight apprehension, then a sense of calm.

. o O Hurley thinks, "What are the chances that we'll transition and run into an Alliance fleet manned by their Taimol Edan? Well, considering we have *two* Harris' on this ship with the intention to get more, I suppose those odds just quadrupled."

Turtledove looks up from tactical to give Harris a quick smile (that he can't see), but otherwise stands by.

Krylow nods to Takamura and looks back to his console. A couple of quick taps, and then he says, "Activating now, sir." As he says that, he taps his console one last time.

Foster also braces himself, hands on console. He says nothing.

Fioravanti grips the arms of her chair and settles back for the ride. She appears to be caught between "oh, God, I'm going to be sick" and "kid on the world's biggest roller coaster."

Hurley's eyes slide shut as well, and she continues to hold her breath, but continues to listen to the chatter in, and out of, the bridge.

With the activation of the device, everything seems to skew to the right... and continue skewing. Round and round and round you go, in tighter and tighter circles, as if you were a drop of water making your way through an immense funnel. Or like being in a tornado, without all that, well, wind. Oddly enough, it just seems to be you. The rest of the ship, and the people on it, seem unaffected. After forever and a moment, things stabilize, the viewscreen ahead unchanged.

Takamura closes his own eyes when the shift occurs. After a few moments, he reopens them to look at the viewscreen. "All stations report."

Harris swallows a few times as if to keep from vomiting on his console, then cracks his eyes open as he works the controls. "There's no hostiles in sensor range."

Turtledove exhales, then replies, low and light. "Tactical is stable, with no obvious identity-ambiguities."

Krylow takes a moment to look over his console and then glances back up to Takamura. "Engineering is green across the board. That includes the translation device."

"Helm is stable," Foster reports. "All systems show ready."

Fioravanti's voice is quiet. "Medical, save for extreme nausea, is ready."

"Alive, well and still me," Hurley reports as ordered, eyes finally opening to look at the viewscreen almost expectantly. "And nobody's talking out there." She only seems slightly relieved by this, and maybe only just a smidgeon at that.

. o O Jatila weakly gets her thoughts back together down below. "Great and sweet Elements, large and small. Note to self: conquer the Federation and teach them decent engineering. Note number two: put saltpeter in Takamura's food for lack of warning."

GAME: Fioravanti spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Fioravanti contests her Medical Sciences (Plastic Surgery) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Fioravanti (claiming advantage) contests her Medical Sciences (Plastic Surgery) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Fioravanti (claiming advantage) contests her Medical Sciences (Plastic Surgery) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!

GAME: Krylow spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Krylow contests his Material Engineering (Personal Equipment) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

<CONTEST> Krylow contests his Material Engineering (Personal Equipment) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Krylow contests his Material Engineering (Personal Equipment) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Fails!

<CONTEST> Fioravanti contests her Medical Sciences (Plastic Surgery) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

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

<CONTEST> Krylow (claiming advantage) contests his Material Engineering (Personal Equipment) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

<CONTEST> Takamura contests his Medical Sciences (Plastic Surgery) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Fails!

GAME: Takamura spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Takamura (claiming advantage) contests his Medical Sciences (Plastic Surgery) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

And so it goes. Travel through the Mirror Universe is scheduled for nearly eight days of Alpha, Beta, Gamma, and Delta shifts, putting a considerable strain on the Brilliant-class Light Escort's engines. The territory that would be Romulan in the normal universe is quiet, almost disturbingly so. Planets known to be homes of large populations are deserted, though some show evidence of old civilizations. There is the rare incidence of signals picked up, either on sensors or communications, that indicates there is more to what's going on here than is apparent, but there is no time to spend haring off to investigate.

Everyone is kept busy or keeps themselves busy during this flight. The pilots must maintain high-speed flight. Most of the engineers must maintain the engines to sustain that high-speed flight, with the exception of a small team led by Ensign Alek Krylow, working to replicate Romulan disruptors. The Operations and Tactical crew run scans on every system passed through, more for information's sake than anything else. Medical personnel take over one cargo bay in order to prepare it for the care of the rescued.

The team scheduled for insertion, on the other hand, is special. Aside from their regular shifts, they undergo several other, more unusual, situations. The surgeries begin almost as soon as the ship settles down for long-distance travel, and rather sooner than later, the insertion team looks more Vulcanoid - or, in this case, Romulan - than Federation. Subcutaenous communicators are embedded behind the ears of the Federation part of the crew as part of their surgeries. The training to use them, including speaking subvocally, is part of the followup.

Four days into the journey, the uniforms change, even for those who have not yet undergone plastic surgery. Members of the insertion team don't wear Starfleet or Timefleet uniforms, instead wearing Tal Shiar uniforms, the better to feel comfortable in them when the team must go in. Jatila spends her time teaching 'How To Be A Romulan' classes, somewhat to her amusement and others' dismay. She follows these up with 'How To Be Tal Shiar' classes, only rarely needing to check her notes on the subject.

Despite the almost constant complaints of the Starfleet VME aboard, almost eight hours is knocked off the estimated time of arrival. The Mirror Universe version of the Tarquin system, and Tegedaar proper, lay just ahead...

The now Romulan looking Takamura looks upon his crew with a somewhat amused grin. "It looks like it's time to cross back over. Once back on our side, we want to set a course for the larger moon and hide there. Try to keep our emissions minimal to prevent detection."

Harris furrows his brows as he has to remind himself for the millionth time not to scratch at his newly pointed right ear. "Operations standing by."

. o O Harris thinks, "I can't wait until I get my face back."

Turtledove's new Romulan eyebrows give her the appropriate deviousness, and her slight grin brings the whole package somewhat oddly together. "Tactical is ready when you are, Captain."

Krylow has settled back in at Engineering, wearing his new Romulan mask. At Takamura's words he makes a couple of adjustments at the console and then says, "Prepared for the translation process, sir."

Foster has, of course, not gone through the process, though he did spend enough time hanging out in Medical asking them questions about what they were doing and how they were doing it. He didn't make a nuisance of himself. Not really, honest. He's back at the Conn now, scanning systems. "I'm showing some slight degradation in engine efficiency, but if that's all after the last week, we're good-to-go. We might want to consider moving into the system, towards the moon, before we transfer over. Best to keep our profile visible as short an amount of time as possible."

Fioravanti seems a touch peevish about her new ears and the like, but rather, well, more than a little proud of the job she did on the others. She's spent time checking ears and brows with the fussiness of an artist before opening night. Otherwise, she remains quiet. "Medical's ready, Sir," she calls, tugging at the tip of her right ear.

Even though she's been given days to get accustomed to the new look her team sports, Hurley still tries to avoid eye contact with any of them - especially Harris. However, the time has also given her a chance to clear her mind and settle her nerves, and that semi-permanently-affixed smile has returned now shining at the prospect of leaving the Mirror Universe again.

Takamura nods to Foster at his suggestion. "Excellent idea, Lieutenant. Make it so. Once we are in position, translate us back into our universe." The formerly Japanese man doesn't seem to be having as many problems with his disguise as others.

Harris just hunches his shoulders as he works the console again. "Shutting down emissions as much as possible," he reports softly.

"Likewise." Romu-Turtledove has an adequately fluid demeanor, but lacks the immediate hot and firey edge that posseses most young Romulan officers.

"Proceeding into the system," Foster states from the helm, putting words to actions. Slowly, the Thomas Paine eases into the system, coming nearer and nearer to Tegedaar and her moons. Once he's close enough, he nods towards Krylow. "Ready to go."

Krylow waits for Foster to confirm the position, and once done he nods to the pilot and then begins to tap on his console. "Beginning translation back to our universe, sir." With that he staps on the console and the change begins.

Fioravanti digs her fingers into the chair again, grinning. It's bad that she's grinning, because she's got Brie's grin on a Romulan body.

"We're receiving radio signals," Christine softly states out of the blue. "Standard," she continues, eyebrows furrowing as she concentrates more. "Some encrypted some.. broad....cast?" Head canted, she listens for a moment, then glances in Tak's direction, though still avoids his eyes. "There's civilization out here, and.. I'm not sure what stage they're in, Sir." Krylow's warning, though, makes her brace her console and look back towards the viewscreen before closing her eyes tightly.

A crowd of thousands, or so it seems. You are surrounded by many people, not all of whom you recognize. More ghosts, really. There are the obvious ones: your parents, and your parents' parents, and your parents' parents' parents, cousins, sibings, uncles and aunts. There are also faces you don't recognize except for the family resemblance. Could they be your children, and your children's children, and your children's children's children? Their faces are all different expressions, so many that it's hard to match any single one with a word that describes it. They are all voicelessly screaming the same word at you, but before you can tell what it is, they vanish, everything snapping back into the place as it was a moment before, on another side of the mirror.

. o O Hurley thinks, "I. Really. Hate. That."

Takamura quirks a Romulan brow at Hurley's report. But before he can reply to it, they are traveling back to their home universe. Taking a deep breath, he glances about the bridge. "What's our status now? Is everyone alright?" Looking in the direction of Hurley, he says, "Serona, see if you can decipher those signals and also monitor the Romulan frequencies."

GAME: Harris spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Harris (claiming advantage) contests his Computer (Data Alteration) skill vs a difficulty of Difficult and Fails!

Harris is silent for a long moment. "I've got multiple bogeys, sir. Attempting to mask our sensor signature." His brows furrow a bit more, and then he shakes his head. "Recommend we find a place to hide, and quickly."

GAME: Krylow spends a courage point.

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

Krylow frowns a little as he listens to the reports coming in. He looks down to console, fingers working quickly on the controls there. "Attempting to mask our engine trail," he says to the bridge in general. "There, done. That should cover the engine trail until we reach cover."

Turtledove's v-shaped brow deepens during translation, her lips purse, and her brown eyes haze over, quietly disturbed by the apparent ghosts, perhaps. In the aftermath, her eyes clear, as her thoughts shift to work. Not long after, the more familiar, if vaguely more sardonic, quirked expression emerges. "Tactical concurs. There are three D'eridex, one just entering the far-side of the system, one on the far side of Tegedaar, and one further in-system. Also, a D'valek class patrolling the system. Their weapons are on stand-by, but their sensors are hot." <re>

GAME: Foster spends a courage point.

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

Ever seen a ship scat like it was scalded? If you were watching from the outside, you'd see the Thomas Paine do that right now. Yep, straight for the cover of Tegedaar's larger moon. Luckily, the Paine is soon sheltered by both its bulk and its magnetic field.

Fioravanti remains in her seat, seeming to relax. She's pumped. She's ready to go.

Hurley only needs a moment to recover from the ghosts and other hauntings. Really trying to ignore it for the most part, she reopens her eyes to look at her console. "I'm assuming entertainment broadcasts," she states softly, "with others. Some encrypted - I assume those are military in nature. I'll see what I can do with them, but brute-forcing encryption protocols takes time. It'll be something I'll have to get back to you on." Pause. Change subject. "I don't hear any chatter from the Romulans at the moment."

Takamura's lips for a thin line as the reports come in. "Once inside the moon's shadow, bring us down to minimal power. Keep monitoring the comm traffic and location of those ships. I don't want any surprises before we transport to the prison moon." He then taps a message into his console sending for Jatila to join them on the bridge.

Harris glances at his readouts, falling silent.

Turtledove maintains vigilence over tactical, meanwhile. "Major." Speaking to Takamura, of course, and not un-wryly. "Active scans of the prison moon show four major populations of personnel. That's all I can read at this distance, with their shields up."

Krylow is quiet now at his station, just watching the information there.

"Moon's shadow achieved," Foster says. "We're good to go, I believe."

Fioravanti remains quiet, watchful.

Hurley, as well, is absorbed into her own readings and listening intently. "No chatter," she states softly. "Well, no increase over the typical background from Tegedaar, so.. they didn't see us." Pause. "I think."

Jatila steps onto the bridge, looking a bit ill-at-ease. She is, no doubt, plotting evil, evil fates for the Starfleet engineers that make things like ghosts appear. Like, say, stuffing their pillowcases with butterscotch (not chocolate- they don't deserve chocolate!) pudding. The non-faux Romulan moves down to join the mission commander. "Yes, Major?"

Takamura rises from his chair, walking toward the station at the rear of the bridge. Glancing to Turtledove, he says, transfer your data to this console." He then waves Jatila over towards him. "Using the data we have here, where is the best insertion point?"

Turtledove nods to Takamura, and makes it so.

Hurley flashes a greeting smile back to Jatila as she enters the bridge, but silently returns her attention to her console and continues listening for an increase in comms traffic.

Jatila joins Takamura, lifting an eyebrow slightly at the question, then turns her gaze to the screen as the data filters through. Eyes narrowing in on the ship traces, she breathes a soft curse, then flicks her gaze toward the prison blueprints for a quick study. A sharp-nailed finger stabs at a spot. "There."

. o O Jatila thinks, "The great insertion team asking my advice on insertion. Funn- Oh hell. Where did /those/ come from?"

Takamura nods to Jatila, looking to the others. "Alright, everyone on the insertion team, gather around here. We'll go over the insertion point and then the objectives once on the ground."

Harris pushes to his feet, adjusting his uniform as he heads to the table.

Turtledove steps quietly into the group meeting.

Krylow stands from his station and moves to a spot where he can watch the screen.

Fioravanti moves to join the meeting as well, quiet.

Hurley, on the other hand, stays where she is, but turns her attention to the group gathered, eyes specifically focused on Harris.

Jatila doesn't move, already being 'here', and falls silent for the nonce.

Once the team has assembled, Takamura, aka Major Takra, points out the insertion point, the holding areas, and the control room where the shield and sensors are controlled. "Alright, the plan is pretty simple. We insert here, free the prisoners, take over the control room, take the shields, sensors and comms off line and then extract from there. We are to avoid causing casualties. All our weapons are to remain on stun. If the opportunity presents itself, we will also release any Romulan prisoners to cause more confusion for the Tal Shi'ar. And under no circumstances are we to attack Senator Kassus if he is present."

Harris nods once, still silent. His expression is inscrutable -- game face and all.

. o O Jatila thinks, "Oh great. First I can't assassinate him. Now I can't even /attack/ him. I'm starting to feel like I got a raw deal here."

Turtledove's eyes shift quietly from the assembled group, returning to 'Takra'. "As I mentioned earlier, there are four major groupings of life-signs. Three appear to be in the general prisoner holding areas. The fourth is near the control room."

Krylow glances briefly to Brie as she joins the others, but then he glances back to Takamura. He's quiet and still, just watching the console with a steady, intent look.

Foster sits at the Flight Control console, not looking towards the rest, but keeping his eyes on the Flight systems and the locations of the four Romulan vessels.

Fioravanti gives Alek a brief smile, then turns her attention back to Tak and Turtledove.

Arms folded across her chest, Jatila listens quietly, her expression never changing. She nods once, curtly, acknowledging the instructions.

Takamura looks over his team and says, "If there are no questions, we will get our equipment and head to the transporter room."

"None." Harris' look says it all: let's go!

Turtledove nods, her expression warm, calm, and ready.

Krylow echos Harris, with a simple, "None."

After another quick glance to her console, Christine's gaze once again turns to Harris.

. o O Hurley thinks, "Good luck, Grandfather."

Jatila shakes her head, turns, and heads for the lift.

Takamura touches the pad beside the turbolift door.

Takamura summons the turbolift.

The turbolift doors slide open with a hiss.

Takamura boards the turbolift as the double doors slide open.

Jatila boards the turbolift as the double doors slide open.

Turtledove boards the turbolift as the double doors slide open.

Harris boards the turbolift as the double doors slide open.

Krylow boards the turbolift as the double doors slide open.

The turbolift doors slide closed.

Fioravanti touches the pad beside the turbolift door.

Fioravanti summons the turbolift.

The turbolift doors slide open with a hiss.

Fioravanti boards the turbolift as the double doors slide open.

Takamura steps into the transporter room and the door slides shut behind him.

Jatila steps into the transporter room and the door slides shut behind her.

Krylow steps into the transporter room and the door slides shut behind him.

Fioravanti steps into the transporter room and the door slides shut behind her.

Time: Sun Feb 13 22:42:35 2005

Stardate: 54753.1

Turtledove steps into the transporter room and the door slides shut behind her.

Waiting behind the transporter is a Starfleet-dressed Transporter Chief. "Ready to transport, sirs. Location is programmed in already."

Takamura doublechecks his disruptor and reholsters it as he steps onto the transporter pad. Once everyone is in place, he nods to the transporter chief.

Harris steps onto the pad as well, checking his weapon in like fashion.

Turtledove's disruptor already checked, she instead checks her bladed arsenal --- a neca, and a set of kailune. As she steps onto the pad, she draws her Romulanized-tricorder and winks at the Transporter Chief, in all of her Romulan glory.

Krylow moves onto the pad, his Romulan style bag with his engineering and explosive gear in place. He double checks his weapon and settles into place.

Fioravanti makes a lovely little Romulan, truly. She's got her medkit, she's got her disruptor, and both have been checked twice.

Jatila steps a trifle hesitantly onto the pad, comfortable with her gear, and braces herself. Considering what their warp drive is like... "Elements be with us," she breathes.

Once everyone is on their transporter pad, the Chief nods back to Takamura, and says, "Energizing."

The transporter room vanishes, replaced by what, apparently, is the surface of the moon. The environment has minimal oxygen, as if you were high in the mountains on Earth. The two Romulan guards standing near the door, which isn't more than one hundred yards away, wear breathers over their mouths, just for additional support. There is cover, in terms of large shrubs and other such growths. Boy, that's a real lack for their sensors, isn't it?

GAME: Turtledove spends a courage point.

Takamura inhales deeply of the thin air. Straightening his uniform, he motions for his team to follow behind him. He then marches right up to the guards. Afterall, he /is/ Major Takra of the Tal Shi'ar.

Harris puts on his best 'put upon' look, falling into step behind Takamura.

Turtledove holds her hands behind her back, the picture of Romulan efficiency, as she walks beside Harris.

Krylow takes slow, deep breath, and then a second to get used to the air. He falls in beside another of the Sublieutenants, Fioravanti, as they head for the door.

Fioravanti is simply a lowly sub-lieutenant, but she, too, falls into line behind the others, looking for all the world as if she belongs.

Jatila takes her spot a step behind and to Takamura's left as she falls into pace with him. Chin high. Back straight. A confident officer of the Tal Shiar.

The nearest guard turns towards the approaching group, his hand moving to his disruptor. The other guard also places a hand on her weapon. By their rank insignia, both are similar to Jatila's actual rank, probably on their own Serona. "Identification?" The tone is polite, even respectful, but a little suspicious. Like all Tal Shiar, it seems.

Takamura stops in front of the guards, presenting his credentials. "I am Major Takra and these are my personal guards. We are here to assist with the executions." He eyes each guard as they do their jobs, almost tempting them to question his right to be there.

Harris arches a brow at the cadets, still silent as he keeps his hands at his sides.

Turtledove's eyes are direct, scrutinizing the guard --- albeit softly. She moves well enough to be a personal guard, though.

Krylow comes to a stop behind the others, hands clasping behind his back while he watches them.

Fioravanti is mirroring Jatila in expressions and confidence. She stands ready, properly, waiting.

The male guard looks at the credentials and nods, "Yes sir. When he looks at the female guard, she asks, "I guess there's been no update on when the Senator's ship will be arriving, sir. I heard that there were technical difficulties and that he wasn't expected until tomorrow."

. o O Jatila is thoroughly disgusted. "Oh, of /course/. Might as well turn around and go home."

Takamura holds out his hand for the credentials to be returned. "I can not speak to that. Afterall, we wouldn't want a security leak that would endanger the Senator's safety."

Jatila lifts an eyebrow slightly at that bit of news, her face immobile.

The two guards step aside, clearing the doorway.

Once the guards step out of the way, 'Takra' leads his entourage inside of the facility.

Harris follows along, his eyes sweeping back and forth as he watches every nook and cranny -- like the good guard he is.

. o O Harris thinks, "Where are you, honey? I'm here."

Christine Hurley's voice sounds in the subcutaneous communicators of everyone (except Jatila): "Movement to the Central Control room. No increased patrols. It looks like they may be preparing for a meeting of sorts."

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

<CONTEST> Fioravanti contests her Personal Equipment (Tricorder) skill vs a difficulty of Moderate and Succeeds!

Turtledove proceeds. Once inside, she adjusts her tricorder to run a quick scan of the local environment.

Krylow unclasps his hand as they begin to move, following along with the others with the same steady, stiff posture.

Fioravanti does like Turtledove, attempting to be as surreptitious as possible.

Jatila waits for the doors to close, takes a quick look around. "We need a sca-" Noting Turtledove already on it, she simply nods.

Takamura waits for the doors to close then looks to his team for the results of their scans. "Can we get a fix on where the Federation prisoners are being held?"

Harris tugs his tricorder out of his belt as the doors slide closed, eyeing it. "The first cellblock has nine prisoners in it. There's humans in all the blocks, so no help there. As for Federation prisoners -- all the cellblocks have Federation-affiliated lifeforms." he murmurs softly. "There were nine people that were scheduled for execution; seems the logical thing to do is go see if the Romulans are like everyone else and have a death row in block one."

Turtledove nods to Harris, then reports to Tak in kind. "And their security doesn't appear to readily discriminate bio-signs. Which is good." A slight grin.

Fioravanti dips her head, apparently concurring with Harris. "Two has 22, Three has 29," she murmurs, voice very quiet.

Jatila's brow furrows, then she shrugs. "Sorry, no help on this one. Offhand, considering the two extra warbirds, I'd guess they're slightly more alerted than hoped, and go for the one with the most Romulans in it. Beefed up guard patrols."

Takamura listens to the reports of his officers, nodding to Harris. "Let's try cell block one then."

Harris slides his tricorder back into its holster, gesturing in the appropriate direction. "That way."

Turtledove is exploring the mellow pace of this away mission. "Let's rock this moon-based penal institution."

Krylow is still going to the junior officer thing. You know, follow along quietly and watch for problems.

Jatila glances toward Turtledove, and in the direction Harris points, uncommenting.

It doesn't take long to get through the corridors that lead to cell block one. What Christine said is true - there don't appear to be any guards to intercede. This is either clumsy or just overconfident. Or both. The final door is... unlocked. Once inside, it's dark, and hard to identify anyone. Unless they choose to voice themselves...

. o O Turtledove thinks, "I have a mixed feeling about this."

Melodious tones which drift from another cell coax this crumbled body into breathing. How long has this body laid stretched out in waiting to be taken is anyone's guess. Wretched breaths drive home the dryness of her throat. Terribly parched for water, a bony hand flays out to tap the ground surrounding her frail form. Soft moans escape from chapped and dried bloodied lips. Another cough tosses the body into a tightly knit ball.

That is until light shines directly into shadowed eyes. "Whatever you're selling. I don't want any. Come back tomorrow," grunts the aching form, tired and withering, hoping at an attempt to stay sane.

. o O P2348437 thinks, "Stay away from me"

Takamura steps toward the cell to get a better look at the prisoner. Once she speaks, the fake Romulan's eyes widen. "Meg? Is that you?" He then glances around for a way to unlock the door.

<PROVE> Harris has the flaw of Impulsive at -1.

<PROVE> Harris has the flaw of Romantic Attachment at -3.

<PROVE> Harris has the merit of Quick-draw at 2.

The words are no sooner out of the mouth than Harris' disruptor is in his hands. He sets it to full intensity, quite coolly levels it, and vaporizes the door -- over Tak's shoulder, since he's partially in the way. "Excuse me, but you're between me and my wife," he murmurs in Takamura's ear, in a tone that suggests that movement is perhaps the best option.

Hurley's voice comes across the subcutaneous communicators again, "The base is on alert. Repeat - the entire base just went on alert. Watching movements."

. o O Fioravanti thinks, "Gee. I wonder WHY the base just went on alert. Rob, dear? You're an idiot. Remind me to kick your tail when we get home."

Turtledove's eyes shift directly to the emaciated body as soon as realization hits. Then she looks at Harris, but obviously too late. And, as the systems go berserk, she sighs, pauses, and draws her disruptor.

Turtledove quietly aims at Harris' back.

What do you do when one of your team starts blasting stuff? Krylow draws his side arm and moves to cover down one of the hallways, watching for the company that is likely on its way.

Fioravanti sighs quietly and moves forward, the medkit at the ready.

Jatila starts to look a bit uneasy the further they head into the block. Hearing Meg Donavon's voice makes her nervous demeanor triple. "There's something wrong here. I've got a bad feeling about-" Disruptor? Levelled? Her eyes widen. "No, you fool!" Too late. Swearing, Jat draws her disruptor and moves to follow Krylow's lead.

Hurley's voice sounds again, "Patrols are moving from the command center towards prison area one."

. o O Jatila thinks, "Yeah, sure, Alek, /I'm/ the one endangering this mission. *snort*"

"Hey, what the hell's going on out there? You leave her alone, you freak!" The elderly gentleman in the cell next to Meg's tries to reach for Takamura or Harris.

Dread seeps through every aching atom in her body. An explosion vibrates in rumbling the ground. "Kiiiiiid," comes a choked cry, a known word in the misty haze which fogs in around her. "Kiid?" Blindingly, she guides a hand as a prop in pushing the side of her body up. Prisoner 2348437 jerks her head towards the cell door. The elderly sound renews a shaky strength. "What's going on? This is it?"

Takamura doesn't have time to draw his disruptor, but he can block the way. Glaring at Harris, he spits out, "Stand down, Lieutenant. You've just blown our cover." He then throws an elbow in Harris' direction. "Tera, take Jatila and Alek and get those shields down so we can extract."

. o O P2348437 thinks, "Execution. Espionage. Kid. Crimes against Eagl--no. Bir--no. Romulan Empire."

<CONTEST> Takamura contests his Unarmed Combat (Starfleet Martial Arts) skill vs Harris's Unarmed Combat (Starfleet Martial Arts) skill and Fails!

Harris bats Takamura's elbow aside, hand tightening around the disruptor. "Don't start something you can't finish, Hiroshi," he warns. "She's probably hurt, and we've got bigger problems now. Get -out- of my way."

Turtledove lowers her disruptor readily, eyes still on Harris, but her actions are decisive. "Aye, sir." She moves quickly out the way they came, to gather Jatila and Krylow, for a trip to the control room.

Krylow nods once to Turtledove, and then begins to move with her towards the control room. Disruptor is raised and ready, and he moves along a wall for a little bit of cover. He's also giving a little space to others, so the three of them don't bunch up into one target.

Fioravanti's voice is very quiet, soft. "Rob," she says quietly. "You're too close. Let him do his job." The voice is gentle and soft, but the words have a slight urgency to them. "Let US do our jobs. I'm prepared and can do what you cannot. Please...get out of the way. If she's badly injured, *I* need to be the one at the front, not you. You've waited months, ten more minutes. If you don't, I WILL sedate you."

Jatila's sharp ears catch Takamura's order. She's ready when Turtledove moves toward her and Alek, and swiftly- almost naturally- falls into movement with the two humans.

Hurley's voice again, "I repeat - patrols are moving from the control room *to* the prison area. Moving to the control room *will be met with hostiles*"

In space above, a communique appears out of, seemingly, nowhere. Romulan in language, it sounds the clarion call of Kassus' enemies. "We've taken them for our own!" is one exultant phrase.
Hurley's voice sounds, "Enemy ships moving in. Trying to divert them."
It works, apparently, for the ships start swooping in on the signal.

Teeth grind together. A body is forced to her knees before a scream erupts. Snarling at this pain, she jerks into standing. Wobbly at first, Prisoner 24348437 stumbles into position, body propped against the wall. Fists are made. This is it. The last chance.

Takamura gets out of Harris' way, drawing his own disruptor. "We've got bigger problems because of you, Lieutenant. Now cover us so Brie can get in there." Moving to the next cell, he calls out in Federation Standard. "Stand back so we can get you out." Into his communicator, he replies, "If they don't get the shields down, we don't get out of here." All of this is said calmly, but firmly."

Hurley's voice again: "Enemy ships approaching angel ship. Working to get those shields down."

Harris just ignores Tak for the moment, sticking his head into the cell. "It's alright, babe, we're going to get you out of here." And then he clears the way for Brie, moving to the doors to watch for enemy soldiers.

Turtledove speaks over the comm as she walks evenly down the corridor. To Hurley's first statement, regarding the control room, she replies, "I know, Ensign. I still believe that we can talk our way out of this. Call me optimistic." She pulls her tricorder, since Krylow has his disruptor. "It might be better if you lead, Lieutenant." She eyes Jatila with quiet boldness, but not without humour. This is interesting. Hurley's second statement goes by without reply. "We had 18 guards in the control room when we started. I'll see how many are left, and how many are coming this way. Alek, watch our backs. Jatila, do you think that you can divert the incoming guards without arousing too much suspiscion?"

Hurley's voice: "We're taking fire. Well, avoiding fire."

Krylow nods to Turtledove, doesn't slide his disruptor away. His movements change a little though, adopting more of the Romulan stiffness and moving away from cover a little. Lowering the weapon though? Not happening. "Aye, sir," he acknowledges simply.

As Turtledove and party round a corner, a number of fully armed Romulans also round a corner further down the hall. They stop there, and level weapons. One of the ones in the back shouts, in Romulan, "Drop your weapons and surrender!"

Fioravanti steps forward, her focus on whomever's in that cell for now. The medkit's out.

. o O Krylow thinks, "Remind me again why we're carrying Romulan garbage. I want my rifle. And some backup."

<CONTEST> P2348437 (claiming advantage) contests her Unarmed Combat (Starfleet Martial Arts) skill vs Fioravanti's Unarmed Combat (Starfleet Martial Arts) skill and Succeeds!

. o O Takamura thinks, "Damn you, Harris. You compromised this mission's success."

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

Jatila quirks an eyebrow, thinking a beat. "It's worth a try. Come on." She breaks into a run... and skids to a stop, snarling to the guards, "They're headed for the door! Move it!" Her free hand waves in the direction the infiltration party came in.

Turtledove holds her tricorder, and looks vaguely put-out.

Hurley's voice: "Be ready for transport. *oof* I may not get time to advise before we do it."

GAME: Jatila spends a courage point.

<CONTEST> Jatila (claiming advantage) contests her Presence (Willpower) skill vs a difficulty of Challenging and Succeeds!

"Hey! Who the hell are you people?" The elderly man says. "You leave my step-mother alone!"

The guard moving in on Jatila, Turtledove, and Krylow looks at her curiously for a moment, then orders half his guards to head for the door, the other half to go secure the cells.

There's a sudden massive explosion that shakes the entire prison center. Almost immediately, the whining sound of a Federation transporter in action can be heard from six of the untouched cells.

Hurley's voice, a little late, says, "Prepare for transport. All of you."

<PROVE> P2348437 has the flaw of Intolerant at -2.

Rage neatly wrapped inside a tiny knuckle sandwich readily drives home at the Romulan Guard. "Demon Foul Beast!" spats out Prisoner 2348437. "Back to the hell you crawled out from!" Exasperated, deep breaths wheeze from her burning chest. Living on hot-blooded instinct, wild eyes of a caged animal kept too long and beaten with sticks glower at the other woman. A foot rises in pursuit of following up with a rib-cage kick but the frail body and deep-seeded head pains cause this Irish Creature to collapse. Like a sack of potatoes, she drops while wearing a satisfied smile. At least she got one.

. o O P2348437 thinks, "I die today knowing I fought"

Takamura cranks up his disruptor's setting and aims for the Elderly man's door. Then the explosion causes him recoil slightly. Into his communicator, he calls, "Ensign get us out of here and report." He then aims the weapon down the hallway where the real Romulans should be coming from.

Harris levels his weapon down the hallway, waiting for a clear target.

. o O Takamura thinks, "What the heck is going on up there?!?"

As the guards make swiftly for location-elsewhare, Turtledove trades her tricorder for the faux-disruptor. She gives Jatila a quick grin, meanwhile, for her effort, before the light cavalry arrives, with shaking. She pauses wryly. "Looks like we aren't going to be doing this the quiet way. Prepare for transport."

Krylow steps up behind Jatila and mumbles quietly, "Stand still, or stay behind." With that he steps beside her, arm around her shoulders to make sure his transport picks the two of them up. He still has his weapon raised and ready.

Hurley's voice: "Three Enemy ships. Lieutenant Foster has managed to avoid all of their fire so far."

Fioravanti's nose begins to spurt blood and there's a quiet yelp of pain, followed by something murmured softly. The hypo's out and shoved against the Prisoner's skin. Once that's done, she shoves the hypo away and deadlifts Meg into a Fireman's carry.

Jatila shrugs lightly in an 'ah well' sort of gesture, then blinks. "Transp-?" She manages not to drive an elbow into Alek's solar plexus in utter startlement; considering the adrenaline-packed goings on, that's a near miracle. Quickly nodding her understanding, she swiftly raises her disruptor to increase his field of fire and her own.

Once again, the whine of the transporter begins, and the remaining two prisoners, along with Fioravanti vanish. The scream of anger from down the hall indicates that Turtledove, Krylow, and Jatila have been taken as well.

Krylow steps out of the transporter room.

Takamura waits for his turn to be transported away. All the while he looks for hostiles to come and give him a samurai's fate.

Harris releases a puff of breath. "Hey, Tak? If we die, I'm sorry."

Four Romulan officers circle the corner and charge into the room, disruptors raised, set to kill. Energy lances out of all four towards the two remaining officers, just as the whine of the transporter fills their ears and the area changes, becoming ... the transporter room of the Thomas Paine. The transporter chief practically yells into his combadge, "Got 'em! Got 'em all!"

. o O Hurley thinks, "Father, please be with them. Please be there. Oh please let Father be alright."

It's a most-uncomfortable feeling, being turned inside-out and backwards. I mean, gee, trying to walk is a brain teaser that just doesn't seem to one you can solve. For a moment, each of you is faced with a version of yourself, each in your normal clothing and form, each with a sad look of their face. And then each of them gets vaporized. Or... is it YOU who got vaporized? For several seconds, you're just not sure, and then reality asserts itself. Mirror Reality, but Reality all the same.

Takamura staggers a little bit on the transporter pad, then resets the disruptor to stun and holsters the weapon. He gives Harris a hard look before heading for the doors. "We will talk later." Takamura states cooly. "First order of business is getting back home."

"If it had been Tara in there, you would understand," Harris replies softly, holstering his disruptor as he pushes away from the wall -- still pale from transition weirdness. "I pray you never do, though." Without further ado, he heads for the doors as well -- undoubtedly with a different destination in mind.

Turtledove holsters her 'disrupter', and eyes Harris, wordless, then shifts her attention to the dispersing group at large. Her v-brow creases lightly. "Well, we all made it out alive." A quick, reassuring smile to Krylow, and to Jatila. "It was good working with you." Then she, too, proceeds to the exit. Probably taking the Tak-path.

Fioravanti makes haste for the Cargo bay and the prisoners. Her smashed nose is obviously broken and oozing blood, but she doesn't seem to notice. The Combat Medic is off at a run.

Jatila's nose wrinkles a bit when Takamura materializes, safe and whole. Yeesh, how depressing can a mission get? She gets no time to mull over that question before getting turned inside-out and backwards, then she too staggers in recovery from the effect. With a tightly courteous nod toward Turtledove, the woman whirls to follow her.

Takamura steps out of the transporter room.

Jatila steps out of the transporter room.

The turbolift doors slide open with a hiss.

Takamura steps out of the turbolift.

The turbolift doors slide closed.

Takamura steps out of the Turbolift, heading directly for the Captain's chair. His face is set like stone, though the look in his eyes give away his displeasure. "Lieutenant Foster, report!"

Krylow is sitting at his station, watching the readouts from the translation device on the Paine.

Foster is sitting at the Conn, looking, well, exhausted. He stares dully at his console for a long moment, not even looking around. "Translation to Mirror Universe successful. All systems green. All systems showing full stop."

Hurley, tense, is still at her console, but now visibly jostled from the expertise flying of Foster and constant worrying from orbit. She's still doing her thing, though. She hasn't hauled herself to the cargo bay, she hasn't run to the transporter room; she's stayed on the bridge the whole time and coordinated as she was ordered to do. And her antsiness is showing itself as she glances to the turbolift, to her console and back to the turbolift even after Tak appears.

Jatila steps off the lift, pauses, and remembers this isn't exactly her ship. Whoops. She sidles to one side to lean back against a bulkhead, folding her arms across her chest. Eyebrows shoot up abruptly.

. o O Jatila thinks, "Mirror Universe...?"

Takamura sits down in the chair, frowning when he notices Jatila present on the Bridge during the report. "Did we suffer any damage? And what is the status of the prisoners?" Looking over to Jatila, he says, "Serona, please assist the wounded in the Cargo Bay."

Krylow glances up to Takamura. "No damage. The Paine is in perfect shape," he says simply before glancing down to the console again.

Hurley lifts her head at the order for Serona to assist the wounded and lifts a brow. She has, afterall, been answering to that name for the last few days as well. But, her eyes glance to Jatila, then back to Tak. She wants to ask. So desparately. Duty first. Her gaze turns back towards the turbolift before returning to her console. Prophets help the first Harris that comes through that door. "We have fifty in the Cargo Bay being aided by medical. Ten Romulan prisoners.." she blinks and lifts her eyes to look at Tak. "We have ten Romulan prisoners in the brig." She's confused, it's obvious.

Jatila curtly nods and spins on her heel to head for the turbolift. Just before reaching it, she glances intently toward Krylow, her murmur meant mostly for him. "Odd, the guards didn't shoot at us. I wonder why." Narrowed eyes slew around toward Hurley, then to Tak, and she heads out.

Jatila touches the pad beside the turbolift door.

Jatila summons the turbolift.

The turbolift doors slide open with a hiss.

Jatila boards the turbolift as the double doors slide open.

The turbolift doors slide closed.

Takamura looks to Foster, first. "Set a course for the station as quickly as the engines can take us without overly straining them." Then to Hurley, he says, "Transfer those Romulans to the Cargo Bay. They were Romulan political prisoners. I want them to receive medical treatment. However, also dispatch a security detail to help keep an eye on things. Once that is finished, Ensign, you may report to the Cargo Bay yourself."

Foster turns back to his console and begins setting the course. "I think I can give you 8.0 without overly straining the engines. That's normal maximum cruising speed for the Brilliant-class."

Once she realizes what she's said, Christine looks over towards Tak, draws in a breath and is just about to request, but is given the order. She nods. "Yes, Sir," and is on her feet and to the turbolift in a flash. Seriously. All that focused energy suddenly becamse a warp coil inside that typically bouncy body. And, in fact, she does it so quickly, that the headset is forgotten, apparently becoming her new fashion accessory. Of course, it's only forgotten for a moment - before the Turbolift doors close, she's calling for security to help her escort the guests from the brig to the makeshift medical bay.

Hurley touches the pad beside the turbolift door.

Hurley summons the turbolift.

The turbolift doors slide open with a hiss.

Hurley boards the turbolift as the double doors slide open.

The turbolift doors slide closed.

Takamura turns back to face the viewscreen, rubbing his disguised face. "Very good, Lieutenant. I look forward to reading your report." He then leans back in the chair, releasing a heavy sigh.

And so, the Thomas Paine clunks along at a paltry Warp 8.0, heading back to Station 419-Upsilon. It takes a bit over eleven days to return, during which time the surgeries are reversed, and the subcutaneous communicators removed. The transition back to normal space isn't pleasant, but none of them are, seemingly. The greetings of 419's Communications Officer is one of the most pleasant things to hear in a long time. Until it can be known what to do with them, the Thomas Paine becomes, once again, a place for refugees to remain.