Community Ties

 Episode Name:  Community Ties

   Written By:  Daedalus

         Cast:  Daedalus, Dana, Hurley, McTiernan, Mikkelsen, Milosevic, Moyra, Occan Guard and Randal.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Daedalus

     Aired On:  Sat Jun 04 13:46:19 2005

     Stardate:  55018.5

Time: Fri Jun 03 20:43:52 2005

Stardate: 55016.8

A familiar overvoice as a shot of a familiar ship passes over a mildly familiar orb. "Ship's Log, USS Thomas Paine, Stardate 55016.8, Commander Akeen Ghorev recording. Lieutenant Commander Goodwin assures us the ongoing delay is worth the wait, and since the Captain and I have already agreed that his word has to have weight in dealings with the Occan government, I've agreed to continue letting some more of our people, as well as a few civilian guests of Ambassador Rome's diplomatic and trade advisors, down for shore leave, with the usual admonitions to watch their step." Cut to the planet's surface, a hustle-bustle of activity in a civic center. It is much like any post-Dominion War urban neighborhood on a formerly occupied planet. There are still people rebuilding in minor ways, years after the heavy damage has been repaired. "In the restored timeline, the Dominion had covert operatives on Occa well into late last year -- one such team caused severe problems, and even a few deaths, when some of our people, as current history records the matter, started these negotiations eight months ago." Cue the image of a bombed out shell of a building, and then another, and then another. "Joshua Goodwin thinks he and Ambassador Rome can get the final talks back on track, and by mid-summer on Occa Prime, there will be a grand opening of the Federation Embassy and Humanity Heritage Complex the very groundbreaking of which was disrupted by the Dominion last fall." A pause as we cut to the interior of Thomas Paine, a crew shot, folks working at stations, as Ghorev starts to lower his hand over the 'terminate recording' control. "Having to leave this amount of decision making authority to a man I barely know because Tarsis Balin and I are excluded by xenophobic tradition from the highest halls of Occan power galls me, but hopefully some good will come of it. I can only hope the few non-human officers we've allowed down for shore leave watch their steps." He terminates the log.

Cut to the interior of some kind of courtroom. Two junior Lieutenants and an Ensign of Starfleet, and three civilians, stand in front of a high bench. "....and so it is the decision of this court that for your breach of the peace, in the assault on Occan citizens in violation of their civic duty as the popular militia, that you spend one year in our jail." As a few onlookers gasp, the judge continues, "However, I have already been advised by my superiors in the Magistracy of Justice that such a sentence is to be altered in light of ... political niceties." The corpulent justice looks displeased by this, and folds his hands over his ample belly. "Accordingly, the sentence is suspended, pursuant to completion of one night of hard labor with the Magistracy of Community's Subdepartment of Relocation and Redevelopment." He motions to a suited fellow by the door who seems to have been waiting this whole time. "Sub-Director Mikkelsen, these people are yours to do with as you see fit. Do advise the court if they do not adequately complete their sentence." And then he looks at the defendents. "And if you are ever caught brawling in our streets again, no matter what you claim as your cause, you *will* spend the year in jail." Wham of the gavel. "This court is adjourned!"

Randal, perhaps rather wisely for once, keeps his trap shut for almost the entire proceeding, and wears something of a chagrinned expression. "Well. That didn't go as bad as it could have," he murmurs to his fellow convicts after the court adjourns.

Hurley looks on at the judge with as much of a neutral expression as she can muster. The sentence of a year in jail does chase the little remaining color in her cheeks to leave her just slightly pale, but a sigh of *almost* relief pushes from her lips. A sideglance to Randal and she lifts one of her hands to finally push some of the stray strands of hair away from her eyes, having been rustled from the otherwise still intact pony tail. "Considering," she agrees softly and looks towards McTiernan with concern. "How you holding up, Piper?"

. o O Hurley thinks, "Commander Ghorev is going to /kill/ me."

Milosevic whispers back to Randal under his breath. "Yeah, tell that to the pregnant woman whose going to kick my ass for this later?" Milo sighs and steals a glance around the Occan courtroom, checking the natives and on his people, civilian and Starfleet alike. "Let's just get this over with and get back to the ship."

. o O Randal thinks, "I hate this planet."

There is no fury as that of a redhead with her temper piqued. Dana's lower lip is bloody, though it would appear that her continual biting of it is the cause, rather than any apparent injury. She remained quiet during the proceedings, but the wheels are clearly turning, the smoke all but pouring from her ears. Hands remain balled at her sides as she looks to the others. Milo first, then Randal and Hurley, and finally Taimol and Piper.

Moyra is thoroughly satisfied with herself. She wears the few brawl room bruises she's sporting with pride and has seem to be rather in a chipper mood while the proceedings occurred. She glances over at the others and smiles, "Ahh, one night of labor...now that isn't so bad and all." She places her hands in her pockets and balances on the heels of the feet, enjoying the mess that's she's ended up in.

McTiernan just -stares- at Milo for a long long moment, dark eyes wide. She's -so- on the verge of letting loose a good tongue lashing, and no.. not in that good way either. Twice she opens her mouth to speak and twice she snaps her teeth together with a click. Just as her hand hovers toward her stomach, she stops herself, forcing it to her side instead. "The -first- cross word thrown at me by Commander Park and I'm serving you all up on a silver platter." She pulls her combadge off and shoves it at Milo. "You're the Engineer. Figure out why it didn't work when I tried to hail the Paine." Then she rolls a shoulder at Chrissy. "Lets just get this over with, okay? My ankles are going to be balloons inside three hours."

At that point, The Suit approaches. He is flanked by two court bailiffs. "Come with me, please." He looks the six misdemeanants. "You all look respectable enough that I doubt we'll need the bright jumpsuits and the magnetic manacles. Can I take that basic assumption as fact or are you going to make me regret it?"

Hurley flickers a glance towards Moyra, tries to smirk, and fails as she glances to the Suit. "Piper," she murmurs softly to Preggers, "if you need us to pick up part of your load, you *tell* us. Don't you endanger that child, hmm? I have enough energy," even though she doesn't look it at the moment, "to work for both of us. All three if necessary." A glance to McTiernan's belly and a smile finally forms when she lifts her eyes to the other woman's. "Come on." She pauses long enough to get her head-count in, then nods to Suit. "We'll behave," she states for the entire group without sparing a glance to Randal, she adds, especially and obviously for him, "All of us."

"Actually, sir, that tall one over there. The terran, Randal Thorne? He needs watching of the highest order. Terrible man with a past more dark than a black hole." Milo smirks as he glances at Randal and offers a very innocent and sincere smile. "Perhaps the bright jumpsuit and manacle might not be a bad idea? Just kidding, sir...Mostly, anyway?"

. o O Hurley thinks, "Milo, shut /up/. If they give Randal a hard time because of you, believe me, you'll fear me much, much more than I'm worried about Commander Ghorev at the moment."

Moyra shakes her head, smiling at The Suit, "Oh no sir, no trouble from me." She looks over at the court bailiffs and gives them a wink, still facing this whole thing with a rousing sense of humor that's almost in bad taste, "I'm ready to go and take my punishment as it were." She gives a wink to Hurley and chuckles under her breath at Milo's attempt to get Randal leg shackled.

Dana lifts her chin at the Suit, looking about two breaths from lamblasting him, but then his tone, and words, penetrate. She blinks at him for a long moment, mouth opening in fish-like motions a few times before she shakes her head. "No, Sir," she says quietly. "I think that's a very safe assumption." She looks to the Starfleet officers again, Hurley in particular, listening for a moment before she turns to Moyra. "I have a tissue, if you need," she offers the other woman.

Randal smirks at The Suit. There was a reason to sit nice and be on best behavior in front of the judge, but this guy's already got it out for them as far as Randal is concerned. Of course, Milosevic's statement causes that smirk to go away pretty quick. "Hey! That's not true! I am a respectable businessman. He just has a personal grudge because he punches like a girl." He glances toward Milosevic. "Also? I'm not from Earth, thank you very much."

Milosevic looks over at Randal and speaks low and sullenly. "I do not punch like a girl. Maybe like a Ferengi that one time, but not a girl." The young engineer chuckles and then looks back to the suit, giving the man his most amiable and charming grin. "We're prepared to see out out sentence, Sub-Director Mikkelson."

"Well, you're Human enough," says The Suit, to Randal, "so we can hardly hold *where* you were born against you. Look around you." There is a flicker of a smile and a finger-gesture to indicate the courtroom. "Let's go." And with that, he moves to depart and the bailiffs flank the Thomas Paine Six.

Piper, you are the weakest link! McT's jaw tightens as she shakes her head. "I'll be fine. Really." As she falls into step behind the Suit, she kicks Milo in the leg and flashes him a 'enough trouble from you already' look.

"Boys," Christine speaks up only slightly to get attention as she moves, and to whom that is directed should be fairly obvious. "Let's save the next brawl for the station, k? Then Commander Dakin can deal with it all." She pauses and a small smile forms - a small shimmer of hope. "This'll all be over soon and, Milo, you owe me one helluva brownie batch."

Hurley whispers to Randal, "And, I'll have you know, girls can throw perfectly good punches."

Moyra shakes her head at Dana, "No, I'm fine, I don't need a tissue or anything." She follows along with all of them, whistling a tune under her breath as they move out.

Dana falls into line with the others, hanging back just slightly as she studies the five different personalities she's serving time with, as well as Suit and his minions. Someone's quiet and contemplative.

Sub-Director Mikkelsen starts to talk again as the group walks along to a transport. "I don't suppose any of you know anything about the bandithen? It would make this much easier if you did, but I suppose it's too much to hope for."

Hurley loos at Randal questioningly. She doesn't and is apparently waiting for him to volunteer if he does.

Randal comments with feigned innocence, "Bandithen? Didn't they play at the Dulcais Festival of Seasons last year?" He smiles with amusement.

GAME: Milosevic contests his World Knowledge vs Challenging and Fails.

GAME: Moyra contests her World Knowledge vs Challenging and Fails.

GAME: McTiernan contests her World Knowledge vs Challenging and Marginally Fails.

Milosevic stumbles a step with a sharp intake of breath that barely stalls the yelp as his shin finds itself the owner of a soon-to-be bruise. "Ow. You didn't have to kick me! Vicious wench...And no, sir. I've never heard of the bandithen, but if its mechanical, I can fix it, break it, or make it hum."

Moyra shakes her head, not at all worried that she doesn't know what it is, "Nope, can't say that I have." Then chuckles at Randal's smart remark.

The Suit eyes the Engineer, with a slightly amused look. "Young man," -- Sub-Director Mikkelsen is himself perhaps the far side of 50, maybe -- "if they were mechanical, I assure you, we'd have far less trouble." He climbs into the front seat of the transport, a driver already waiting at the controls, while the bailiffs motion the others into the back.

GAME: Dana contests her World Knowledge vs Challenging and Succeeds.

"Feel free to give us information about them," Christine says amicably with that ever present smile as she does, indeed, climb fearlessly into the back of the transport. So much trust.

McTiernan makes a face as she listens to the Suit. "Bandithen? Isn't that like.. an animal?" She turns a glare on Milo. "If we're cleaning up.... leavings all night, you're so going to be in trouble and I'm so telling your mother on you."

Randal smirks at Milosevic as he boards the transport himself. He says in a sing-song playground voice, "Ooh. Someone's gonna get grounded."

Milosevic climbs into the transport as well and grins at McTiernan. "To which Mom will say 'A little hard work builds character." To my parents, /everything/ you detest builds character. And shut up, Randal, this is all your fault somehow. I know it."

. o O Hurley thinks, "Commander Ghorev is going to eat every organ in my body raw. While I watch. I just know it. /What/ was I thinking?"

GAME: Milosevic has the flaw of Pacifism at -2.

Mikkelsen says, "They are animals, yes," as he motions for the driver to proceed, "and their leavings are far from the best of it." The transport lifts. "Justice Haldane is something of a sadist. Lucky for me. Not so lucky for the lot of you. But it's only one night." The transport moves a little higher, going over buildings. "Though it will probably seem much longer." Then, realizing he's maundering a little, he adds, "Bandithen are primates. Similar to baboons. Smaller, thankfully. They are also, unfortunately, just monkey-like enough to win sympathy from the deluded masses who oppose progress. And apparently I am the spawn of ten different incarnations of Old Scratch for wanting to renovate the destroyed block of buildings in which they have chosen to take up squatters' rights."

. o O Hurley imagines the Andorian man sitting behind his desk getting larger and larger and larger and teeth getting sharper and sharper until he's nothing but blue skin and white teeth coming straight at her.

Dana considers all of the information for a time, drinking it in. "They were an endangered species for a time," she says quietly. "Now they're just "watched." There are quite a few people who aren't happy by that decision. Something about protesters, if I remember - a lot of them."

Randal smiles. "See. That's what you get for building your colony on a planet. Especially one with native creatures. Should have just built yourselves a nice space station or a lunar dome, or something." He chuckles. "Planets are a nice place to visit, but I'd never want to live here."

Hurley considers the information given quietly, eyes scanning the inside of the transport and slowly down the sides. Finally, she speaks with curiosity, "Do you have a reservation of sorts for them? A place where they *can* squat and not be... well, a burden to the society? Or is that where we come into play? Oooh, maybe we could talk to Station Command and use the Paine's transporters!"

Moyra gets onto the transport as more of the punishment comes to light and she laughs, "Oh, now this is just getting from bad to worse." She glances at The Suit and asks him, "Will they outline our full duties and procedures once we get there?"

. o O Randal thinks, "I really hate this planet."

. o O Hurley thinks, "Endangered. Protesters. And a sentence to be in the middle of this. Why do I get a feeling this isn't going to be over soon enough?"

"So, as I understand it, you want us to..catch..monkeys? Like she said, are we to transport them somewhere?" Milo looks a bit confused, or at least like he is hoping for a misunderstanding in his logic. He reaches a hand up to rub the tip of his nose as he looks around the transport at the other members of the TP6. "Monkeys. Are they sentient?"

McTiernan wears a look of dread on her face, her features pale and growing more so as the seconds tick by. Monkeys? "The Academy didn't prepare me for monkey wrangling. I'd have remembered if that had been offered on the syllabus."

Randal glances over at Milosevic and comments simply, "Ask Zephram."

Mikkelsen says, "They're about as sentient as your average well-trained canine. But about as selfish as your average poorly trained feline. As greedy and rapacious as a Ferengi," he says that with some undisguised distaste, "but for some reason considered as cute and cuddly as lap-dogs. You'll be trying to herd them out of the building, into a transport, then cleaning up after them so that the actual demolition team can come in in the morning." A pause. "Bandithen droppings are ... well, high in certain nitrates that don't evaporate well when they explode."

And *speaking* of explosive, hey, look at that crowd of people lined up around the block towards which the transport is beginning its descent. With protest signs. And pushing and shoving and chanting.

Dana tilts her head slightly to the side. "Monkeys," she says quietly, consideringly. "Well, at least Tora hasn't discovered THEM yet. Hopefully it won't be much worse than herding kerra'vein," she says, settling into the transport. Then she hears the last of that and just stares. "You're telling me that their leavings...Oh, dear."

Hurley snaps her attention in Randal's direction at the mention of Zephram, but slowly returns her gaze to the sides of the transport. "Zephram wasn't sentient at first. Cute and cuddly, sure, but not sentient." She pauses, lifts an eyebrow and peers out at the protesting crowd.

"Oh this just gets better and better. Flammable feces, monkey and liberals. My night is complete now." Milo sighs deeply as he turns to look straight ahead to the building in question. "Will we be assigned any equipment for this or are we just to jump and scream at the little creatures?"

. o O Hurley thinks, "We're going to be cleaning up poop. For going to the defense of one of our own NCOs, we're going to be cleaning up poop. For a night."

Randal smirks at Hurley. "So, what? Your definition of sentient is defined as the ability to speak?" He glances out the window. "Oh... that does not look like fun." His attention, it may be noted, is focused more on the crowd then on the buildings they're destined for.

Moyra looks at The Suit and asks, "I don't suppose they'd give the Fleeters here back their stun guns?" She gives him an innocent look, "It wouldn't hurt the little guys...just knock them out long enough."

Two other transports now convene on the transport bearing Mikkelsen, the bailiffs, the Thomas Paine Six, and their driver. In a moment, the driver says the first words any can remember him -- oh, wait, apparently, she's a her, or a really HIGH-pitched him -- saying since the transport was reached. "Peacekeepers ready to deploy to secure our admission past the crowd, Sub-Director."

GAME: Dana contests her Social Sciences vs Moderate and Fails.

"Self-awareness," Christine adds to Randal. "Not just be able to speak, but to be able to make major decisions, understand and be able to reason through sensations." She looks to Moyra and shakes her head. "We don't know what will and won't hurt them. For all we know, a shock could completely alter their physiological bio-electrical chemistry. And, not being a scientist to understand what I just said much more than being able to pronounce it, I'm not willing to endanger.. an endangered species." Pause, "Except in defense."

Dana remains in the back of the transport, viewing all of what's unfolding, listening, and apparently taking mental notes. There's something going on behind her eyes, and she's way, way too quiet at this point.

"If only we had a post-phasic distortion transponder...this would be a breeze." He looks over at Piper apologetically. "Think of the stories we get to tell the little munchkin one day? Yes, yes, you're gonna tell Mom. I know."

Mikkelsen motions a go-ahead to the driver. "If I give you your phasers, I guarantee you'll be using them on that mob. They even *see* a flash of weapons fire from inside that building, and they'll be rather unpleasant." The other two transports dip low, as if to scatter the protestors in a small part of the area, ready to drop out riot-patrolmen.

McTiernan sighs. Another fine mess. She steps between the short Randal and the tall Milo. "marching order, boys" she offers with an attempt at a smile. Monkey's that'll fight back, and exploding poo. A fabulous locale for the pregnant woman of the 24th century. "sadly I left my wrangler outfit on station."

GAME: Randal contests his Planetary Tactics vs Moderate and Succeeds.

Hurley cants her head and looks back towards Mikkelsen, "Where will the transport take them?"

Mikkelsen says, "Far enough outside our current settlements that they won't be a bother."

Randal stands up. "Wait, wait, wait... You're doing this all wrong. Those people are going to riot if we set down like this." He glances toward the others. "We're not going to have a safe path for very long."

"We should be dropped off at the roof and work our way down anyway. That way we are sure to get them all out." Milo offers as an aside, nodding to Randal's words. "It makes more sense."

Hurley turns her gaze towards Randal, back to Mikkelsen, then back to Randal. She knows who to trust. "Do you have suggestions, Randal? A safer way? For everyone - us and the protesters, of course."

Dana blinks and tilts her head to the side, looking between Randal and Milo for a moment or two. "I hope this isn't going to require many acrobatics," she says softly. "It's been years since I last chased toddlers or Pakleds."

Mikkelsen says, "Look around you," with a frown. His tone is decidedly less friendly now. "Those people are going to riot anyway, and the roofs of these buildings aren't safe. That's why we're demolishing and rebuilding this block to begin with."

Moyra glances out towards the protesters and frowns, realizing that there's probably more threat from the rioters than from the monkeys themselves.

Hurley lifts an eyebrow. "But, if Randal has a .. better idea to protect everyone.. isn't that in your best interest, too?"

"Yeah," Randal says, sounding annoyed. "The safer way would be to address the crowd's concerns instead of charging in against the wishes of these people anyway."

. o O Dana thinks, "Well, I know what Milo's going to chase, at least."

. o O Hurley thinks, "He /wants/ to put us in danger. Wait. Randal? Wanting to address a crowd's concerns? Has he been replaced by an alternate universe version?"

. o O Dana is more than a little peeved, which has its root cause in fear. Arrested. HER! ARRESTED! She's having issues with that, well, with that and the indignity of it all.

McTiernan lets out a low sigh. "Beaming us to the top floor would be out of the question I take it? Working top to bottom beats the heck out of bottom to top."

"I don't think we are in the position as prisoners, to make changes to our sentence, Randal. We do as they say, but I still think a roof top dust off makes more sense, rickety roof or not." Milo growls as he watches the protesters getting downright ugly toward the transports, some tossing rocks and other objects against the hull of the small craft. "Otherwise, we have to climb to the top anyway and work our way down."

Mikkelsen says, "'Beaming'?" The Sub-Minister turns to look at McTiernan. "Oh. You mean a transporter? On Occa, only the military and the Leadership Council have access to those. Remember, we don't *have* the unlimited resources you may be used to." He ceases looking back at the six misdemeanants and two bailiffs in the back of the transport, eyes forward now. "Their concerns, at any rate, are that they want us to let this block stay just the way it is, and fall apart slowly under caked on layers of bandithen waste." He shakes his head. "But my job is to make this city a good one in which to live again. If that means a few misguided protestors have to get body-checked because they feel like not giving a work detail room to move, so be it."

. o O Hurley thinks, "But *what* is the contention? That can't possibly be it."

Randal peers at Milosevic. "I didn't come to this planet to do the dirty work of the Occan government for them. For that matter, I haven't seen anything of economic value this far that justifies the Federation seeking any sort of relations with this government." He glowers at Mikkelson. "Those are the people you are supposed to be serving, not vice versa." He gestures out the window. "If you take an attitude like that toward Occans, how can we be sure you even care about the humane treatment of these bandithen?"

Hurley finally, gently rests a hand on Randal's arm, looking up to him calmly and with a small smile. "Randal, we'll do what we can as we can. We'll keep our eyes *and* minds open, ok?"

. o O Hurley thinks, "Pleasepleaseplease don't make matters worse. Commander Ghorev is already going to kill me."

Dana now focuses on Randal, fingers twitching, as if itching to be typing on a PADD or writing. A reporter without her instruments of recording is like drug addict without her fix. She stands, finally, and stretches, seeming to brace herself. "We going to work as one team," she asks, or separate into two? Perhaps one team to run them out and the other to KEEP them out?

. o O Randal thinks, "I can't believe I even bothered coming back here. There was never anything on Occa that's worth anyone's respect, let alone interest, that wasn't brought by someone who wasn't Occan."

Mikkelsen snaps at Randal, his head turning, "I serve The People. Collectively. Not individual people. Not subsets of people. Not mobs of people. The People. Every single person that owns one of those buildings has agreed to these condemnations and repairs. Every single person *down there*" -- well, down 'here', really, since the transport is now making its final vertical drop -- "is trying to interfere with the rights of someone else who wants their property value, their property use, back. You think you have a better way to do things? Move to Occa, and run for office. Until then, you'll keep your mouth shut and do the job you were assigned as punishment for your crimes."

Moyra snorts at the 'all work together' comment, "Not much luck on that one." She scowls at the protestors, "Hmm...I'd just as soon as get started as soon as possible." She puts her hands in her pockets and quietly mourns the loss of her little gadgets...maybe one of them at this point would have helped the situation. Maybe they missed something.

And that's when the Hell breaks loose, as Randal's deductions about the crowd are true. The riot patrolmen are barely able to contain them. One bailiff flings open the transport door. "Double-time, prisoners!"

GAME: McTiernan contests her Athletics/Running vs Routine and Succeeds.

GAME: Milosevic contests his Athletics/Running vs Routine and Marginally Fails.

GAME: Randal contests his Athletics/Running vs Routine and Fails.

GAME: Dana contests her Athletics vs Routine and Succeeds.

GAME: Hurley contests her Athletics vs Routine and Fails.

GAME: Moyra contests her Athletics/Running vs Routine and Succeeds.

GAME: Hurley contests her Athletics vs Routine and Fails.

Milosevic looks back to Randal just as intently and sighs. "You didn't come to this planet for anything other than some R&R, Mr. Thorne, or some shady business deal. Now go! Everyone out!" Milosevic stands at the door, waving his friends and others out to the building entrance, a pat on the back to each at the pass him and he takes up the rear, running behind them.

. o O Hurley thinks, "If Randal doesn't deck him, I'm going to."

Moyra winks at everyone present and announces, "Everyone for themselves." Then she takes off towards the transport, running as fast as her little legs can carry her. Strangely, even though she's short, Moyra is in shape and rather spry so she manages to make it to safety without tripping or getting caught by the mob.

Hurley's teeth grind at Milo's 'pep talk', and she pauses just long enough to consider the Engineer.

. o O Dana thinks, "That hand better remain on my back, buster. I can remember a time when you tried to slide it lower. Running. I haven't run for YEARS. I don't run unless someone's chasing...er. Yes, well."

McTiernan doesn't have to be told twice. Once she see's a light at the end of the riot tunnel, she moves. Yes, pregnant woman can run. Err.. waddle. Fast. Leave the others to bicker if that's their choice. Her aim is to get through the crowd in one piece, thank you very much so she's right there with Moyra. Short and short. yay them.

Right behind the little Centauran merchant, the Centauran reporter, and the pregnant human Operations officer, the others get jostled more than a little. An egg or some similar slimy projectile smacks Milosevic in the back of the head, lobbed by one of the protestors. Randal and Hurley suffer worse fates, in the form of body checks and grabs by screaming, chanting pro-Bandithen protestors.

GAME: Hurley contests her Dodge vs Routine and Fails.

GAME: Randal spends a courage point.

GAME: Randal contests his Dodge+A vs Routine and Marginally Succeeds.

Randal finds his shoulder grabbed by one of thos irate protestors as he tries to run by, which halts his progress. For a moment, anyway. Almost by reflex his arm sweeps up and around in a hard circle, breaking the grip and pushing the offending limb away. Randal might sympathize with these people, but personal space is personal space.

. o O Randal thinks, "I really, really hate this planet."

More concerned about those around her, Hurley pauses to look for Milo, then Randal, the pause just long enough for a protester to nail her in the head with his sign while shouting rather rude things that would normally cause the new Mission Ops officer to blush. However, shock at being hit in the side of the head causes her to stumble and look in the direction of her attacker, automatically preparing to square up if needbe. But, to her rescue is one of the riot-cops, who slings her over his shoulder like a very large sack of potatoes and hustles it for safety.

Dana dashes through the crowd as fast as her legs will carry her. She's not waiting around to make friends and influence protestors. Interviews appear to be the last thing on her mind. She doesn't even wait to hear how they're going to work this - she just goes, right behind Moyra.

Eww! Milo runs in behind the others, slime running down the back of his neck and soaking the collar of his uniform. It takes a little jostling, but he finally reaches the building front with the others and waits for the door to be opened so they can get this over with. "With me, people. Let's go in together. Keep your eyes open and let's get this done quick as possible."

Within a few more minutes, the riot cops start shoving the protestors back, and hasty barricades go into place -- transporters may not be so available to these grunts on the front of the thin blue line, but last generation's portable force field generators? Those they seem to have. At least enough to keep the protestors back at a safe distance without causing an even more crazy riot scene. Mikkelsen, of course, is back in the transport. One of the riot cops motions the Thomas Paine Six inside, handing them their own neat little 'riot shields' from officers being relieved by the force-field activation. "You may need these. These we're allowed to give you." A pause. "Just ... keep quiet about it."

When Hurley goes down, Piper turns and heads back out to get her. But she's stopped by a riot cop. She's about to have words with him when she sees Hurley picked up and carried. She blinks at the 'riot shield' and sighs. Oh great.

"Why?" Randal states to Milo, managing to muster his sarcasm between breaths as he recovers from the gauntlet. "They're going to make us do stuff all night. What's the hurry?" He grabs the offered riot shield and says, "Thank you," in a tone that manages to sound like a venomous insult.

Dana blinks at the riot cop and tilts her head to one side slightly, studying him. "Thank you," she says quietly and then studies the shield as if it's a new manner of coture item.

GAME: Randal contests his Intellect/Perception vs Routine and Succeeds.

"Thank you," Hurley murmurs to the riot-cop as he gently places her on the ground. Taking just a moment to reclaim her composure, she brushes at her uniform pants, as though that'll actually tidy them, and turns to see the shield being handed over to her. "Anything else that might help?"

GAME: Hurley contests her Intellect/Perception vs Routine and Marginally Fails.

GAME: Dana contests her Intellect/Perception vs Routine and Dramatically Fails.

GAME: Moyra contests her Intellect/Perception vs Routine and Succeeds.

Milosevic takes a shield as well, "Yeah, thanks. I am sure this will stop the crap-slinging at least?" Milo glances over at Randal and shakes his head. "I'm back to thinking the manacles was a good idea, Randal. Maybe a gag as well." He falls back to Piper and looks her over slowly. "You okay, Piper? Hurley? You still in one piece?"

GAME: Milosevic contests his Intellect/Perception vs Routine and Marginally Succeeds.

GAME: McTiernan contests her Intellect/Perception vs Routine and Marginally Succeeds.

Hurley turns and snaps at Milo finally, highly irritated with the entire situation and everything just spilling over. "No, manacles were *not* a good idea. They were *never* a good idea. They won't *be* a good idea. Lay off Randal and do it now, Ensign. He's with us, he's on our team and you, as an officer, need to extend the courtesy and respect whether you think it's deserved or not. If you can't do that, then just shut up."

Moyra gives a sweet smile to the riot cop and takes the shield, "Thank you sir." Then she glances back out at the crowd that almost got Hurley and gives a little shudder. Then she looks at Hurley, "You okay?"

. o O Hurley thinks, "Alright. I haven't passed my LOE exam yet, but I'm still higher in the CoC. I'll let Station Command sort this out when we get back, but I will /not/ have this team ripped apart because an *officer* can't seem to hold decorum while we're in a very serious situation. Poop or not, this is serious."

Randal gives Milosevic a rather unpleasant look, and was probably about to say something snarky when Hurley goes off on him. He remains quiet for a moment, then glances around, sniffing the air. "Oh. I hope I'm not already smelling what I think I'm smelling." He blanches.

The guard who handed Randal the shield says, simply, "You are."

McTiernan makes a face at the smell of the egg. It's enough to make her tummy flip flop. "Milo, you stink" she tells him, edging away. Thankfully she can't smell the poo yet and that's just fine by her. When Hurley lashes out at Milo, she blinks and quietly notes. "Can we all just focus on the problem at hand and stop with the pissing contest? There's enough smell as there is and I'm sure more urine would irritate whatever delicate balance there is in their monkey society." She turns away then to peer into the building, holding the shield before her belly more then anything else.

Milosevic looks at Hurley and takes a few steps closer, crowding the girl before Piper's words reach him and stop him. "I am the officer in charge here and you will do well to remember that, Lieutenant Hurley. You, Piper and these civilians are my priority until we get back to the ship. One more outburst like that and I promise you a report made when we get back. Now do I as I say and you can just ignore the banter between Mr. Thorne and myself as it does not concern you, nor the isolinear chip you have apparently gotten stuck up your..." He snaps his mouth shut and turns away from the Mission Ops officer. "We have too much to do to put up with your attitude tonight, Chrissy. Considering who got us into this mess to begin with."

GAME: Hurley calls Social Advantage over Milosevic for a Presence-based contest. See 'news social' for more information.

Dana takes a few steps forward, and there's a very odd noise. She simply pauses and gets this...look on her face. She's quiet for a moment, then asks, as if she's afraid of the answer, "Does it explode if you step in it, or does it need to be set on fire, first?" The poor Centauran is pale to the roots of her hair.

Moyra looks at Randal and shakes her head, "Now this is exactly why I left Starfleet..." She sighs and runs her fingers through her head, wrinkling her nose at the smells that are in the air, "This whole situation stints." She looks at Randal and Dana, "I'll get your backs, if you'll get mine." She readies herself with her shield and does her best to ignore the in fighting between the Starfleeters.

Hurley's eyebrow flickers up. "You can file your report, *Mister* Milosevic, if you so wish, and in the process, you can explain comments made completely out of line here this evening. I will be *sure* to let Station Command know *exactly* how much *respect* you were showing towards those you were aiming to *protect*. Furthermore, I will *not* ignore the banter between you and Mister Thorne as long as *you* are not acting as an officer should in this kind of a situation. Act professional or I will file a complaint against you directly." She pauses, blushes and draws in a deep breath and glances to the others. "With that said, I agree with Piper. We have a job to do here and we need to get it done." And off towards McTiernan's side she heads, eyes casting down to her shield.

One of the guards, taking up a defensive posture for a moment at the vehement display of infighting, then realizes no violence is to take place on this side of the force field. He then looks at Dana, then down at her feet. "You ... should be fine, Miss. Just ... don't try to stick your feet into a high energy field until you clean your shoes."

Randal gives Moyra an appreciative smile and a nod, and Dana gets a sympathetic expression before he turns his attention to Hurley. "Doesn't it bother anyone else that there are a /lot/ of protestors out there? I mean... if this was just a matter of the building infested with vermin, I don't think you'd have whole scads of people coming out in droves to protest."

. o O Hurley thinks, "Yes, Randal. It bothers me a lot. And it also bothers me that they didn't answer me where they're taking the ... whatedver they are. There's more to it than this, I'm sure of it."

GAME: Dana spends a courage point.

GAME: Dana contests her Social Sciences/Political Science+A vs Moderate and Fails.

Dana simply whimpers softly and nods, turning her attention to Moyra and Randal. "We'll let them fight amongst themselves," she says quietly. "Perhaps their chattering will distract the beasties, they'll come to investigate, and we can push the whole lot out the front door." It's clearly meant as a joke. A weak one.

McTiernan sighs as Hurley and Milo continue to have go's at each other. She shakes her head and steps up beside the others. "It's getting dark" she notes, if case any of the others have missed the losing of their light source. She makes her way to a hole with what appears to be emergency lights. "Spirits, please let these work.." she prays aloud as she reaches up to switch the light on.

Milosevic looks Hurley up and down with a quick glance backward and then shakes his head, dismissing her from his mind for now. "It is odd, Randal. I don't get it either. Must be very popular monkeys? Let's just get this done and over with." He hefts his shield and moves to the door to the building, looking over at one of the guards. "Can we go in now? We're wasting time out here worrying about the mob."

The guard says "We weren't the ones stopping you, boyo. In fact, it looked like we were going to have to use stunners on the lot of you a moment ago." He motions. "Get to work."

Randal sighs. "You want to get started, go right ahead," he mutters to Milosevic, waving a hand. "Something doesn't smell right here, and I'm not talking about the floor decorations. Or your new shampoo." He looks to the guard. "Why are these people so upset? I mean... these bandithen are endangered, right? How did they end up that way?"

The guard looks at Randal blankly for a moment. Then says "I wouldn't know", in case the helmet makes the expression less obvious.

Hurley peers into the doorway, then turns towards the guard, asking for the third time, "Where will the transports take them?"

McTiernan just wants some light on the subject. There is something about being in the dark in this building that just doesn't appeal to her sense of adventure. Se glances over at Randal and frowns, "Do you think they're using us to do something they don't want their own people involved in? Setting us up to be the bad guys and in the end, screwing over the treaty talks?"

The guard looks at Hurley less blankly. "I guess the wilderness. Where do monkeys go? Now, really, you guys have to get to work or we have orders to break out the stunners."

Moyra doesn't bother arguing with the guards. They were sentenced to route out the monkeys and so Moyra is ready and willing to try to capture the little buggers. She makes her way tentatively into the building, trying to see if there are any of the little guys around.

With the light of the flicked on emergency lanternpole, the tableau is one of a burned out building. There has been firefighting here. Old damage to the walls, the kind of damage polaron beams leave. The Thomas Paine Six stand with these few guards in what is some kind of entryway to what was, once, a small office office and warehouse building. A large cavernous room, and then side stairs that take one to upper floors with office suites.

Randal steeples his fingers. "Look," Randal comments. "We came here as part of the Federation's diplomatic and economic party," he says. "Now, granted, we've caused a bit of disruption inadvertently, but we're still here on a fact-finding mission. The way I see it, that judge is going to keep us here until we finish the job... and he's going to keep /you/ here to make sure we do." He smiles. "And we can't very well do it if we're unconscious. Now, nobody wants this to blow up into a huge, huge diplomatic incident, so why don't you answer just a couple of questions, then we can get to work, and you don't end up standing around day and night until that force field generator runs out of juice." He smiles.

And, true to her word, Dana is right behind Moyra - she's got the other woman's back. "It's a shame we don't have more illumination," she tells the other woman, scraping one foot along the ground to clean her shoe off a bit. Of course, the easy way to do this would also be the most ecologically damaging one, and would really tick the mob off. Explosive waste, high energy beam, problem solved. Of course, we'd be killing a watched species." The look she gives her foot clearly shows that she's not exactly adverse to that notion at the moment. Then she sighs. "I know, ecologically irresponsible."

Milosevic starts walking the perimeter of the large room, looking up and down carefully as he makes the circuit, leaving the others for the moment. "Nothing yet on this level."

Hurley glances down to her combadge, to the guard, then to Randal with pursed lips.

. o O Hurley thinks, "Why didn't it work when Piper tried to hail the Thomas Paine? If I try to use it now, I risk having it confiscated, but.. things are really weird down here. Commander Goodwin /needs/ to know before someone gets hurt in all of this."

Nothing simian appears to poke out a head. But there is plenty of bandithen waste, indicating that they *do* come around here, and often. Perhaps the offices on the catwalk above, or the rafters themselves? Problem is that the emergency lights are set to keep illumination at *ground* level.

The guard then looks at Randal. "

The guard then looks at Randal. "I won't debate this with you. You're a prisoner work-detail just like the last dozen prisoner work details this week. You seem to think you're special, but you're not. You got a sweet deal from the judge, a night of hard labor as a show of our strength and independence -- the last off-worlders to involve themselves in militia business got much worse. Why can't you be satisfied with that and do the job, okay?"

Hurley slides over to McTiernan and lowers her voice. Hurley whispers to McTiernan, "We need to get ahold of the Paine and update them - let them know what's going on in the event that we need to get medical help, among other problems. I don't like how this is going and... well, I agree with Randal. I'm afraid of getting my combadge confiscated, though." Her eyes lift up towards the darkness of the second level. Hurley whispers to McTiernan, "So.. privacy.. might help."

Randal smirks at the guard. "Really? Huh. So what happened to the last set of off-worlders to get on the bad side of the law, huh?" He chuckles. "Forced them to do garbage collection? Pick up trash in the city park?"

"They're serving 5 to 8 years on our southern island penal colony," is the guard's flat response to Randal.

McTiernan starts to slowly bounce back and forth in that full bladder dance little kids are famous for. She gives Hurley a slight nod as she edges for the stairs. She really hates pitch blackness with monkey poo on the deck. Who wouldn't? "Please let there by a head on the next floor.." she mutters. She grabs Chrissy's wrist and drags her with. After all, don't the girls always go to the loo is pairs?

Milosevic is already heading up the stairs now, halfway to the next level. He is taking his time, watching more for movement than anything in particular. His shield is held in front of him like some futuristic gladiator. Milo steps carefully around piles of dung, although missing all of it is impossible.

Randal, meanwhile continues to content himself by chatting it up with the guard. "Well, what were they doing here in the first place, these other off-worlders?" He takes some of the sarcasm out of the tone and tries to inject a tone of serious interest. He's got the guy talking, maybe he can get some useful info if he keeps stringing the conversation along.

Looking a little surprised, Christine is dragged behind McTiernan. With a shrug offered to Randal, the pair moves past the guard et. al. and further into the darkness. "Keep your ears open," she murmurs as she passes the civilians.

GAME: Milosevic contests his Intellect/Perception vs Moderate and Fails.

GAME: McTiernan contests her Intellect/Perception vs Moderate and Succeeds.

GAME: Milosevic contests his Dodge vs Moderate and Succeeds.

As McTiernan and Milosevic head up the stairs, they get about 2/3 of the way to the next level up when a loud last second shrieking betrays the sudden advance of something small and simian. Milosevic manages to raise the shield enough to keep the thing from latching directly onto him, but now it's a tug of war between man and monkey for a riot shield.

Moyra hears the commotion and looks over at Dana stating, "We better go help them." She puts her shield in front of her and moves towards the stairs, trying to do her best to avoid the most of the feces on the floor and probably only marginally succeeding.

GAME: Milosevic contests his Fitness/Strength vs Routine and Fails.

The bandithen attempts to yank the shield away from the human officer, but, being a monkey, is trying to do it ways that defy the laws of physics, gripping the top with hands, and pushing at the bottom with feet, completely suspended off the ground as it yanks against Milosevic's mass. The Engineer can't quite dislodge the little fellow, but unless the money learns physics really soon, it ain't taking that shield away, either.

GAME: McTiernan spends a courage point.

GAME: McTiernan contests her Unarmed Combat+A vs Moderate and Succeeds.

Dana nods to Moyra and follows behind, moving carefully, shield up. She's NOT happy by this turn of events.

Hurley's wrist is still held by McTiernan, the grip looses and her attention is dragged from Milo's magical tricks up ahead of them to the pregnant woman next to her. She pauses, furrows her eyebrows, then the lightbulb. "No! Piper, don't!"

McTiernan is in a really bad position, standing between Milo, above her on the stairs and Hurley, below her on the stairs. If Milo falls, it's bowling for Fleeters time. Not a good place to be. When the monkey and Milo start fighting over the shield, she reaches out and grabs for the monkey. She doesn't /really/ expect to to catch the thing then next thing she knows, her hands are full of fur. Now the problem here is what to -do- with the furry beast now that she has it. Almost without thought, she turns and sits on the stairs, bracing her feet as she curls the monkey into her body, one arm across the animals neck to keep it from being able to bite her while her hands grabs the monkey's hands and feet. She's not totally clueless about holding animals.. only she's used to the slick ocean kind. "I'VE GOT ONE!" she calls out, trying to summon help. She can't hold this position forever.

GAME: Milosevic contests his Intellect/Perception vs Moderate and Succeeds.

Milosevic is stunned still from the sudden attack and the rapid saving of himself from the monkey. He quickly looks around and then turns to look down at Hurley, giving her a nod to help Piper. Once done, he takes the rest of the steps up to the landing, eyes peeled for any movement, ears listening for rustling and especially screeching from the beasts.

Randal glances away into the building, toward the stairway which is now filled with angry shrieking and shouting. "Whoa," he says, turning back to the guard and flashing a smile and chuckling gently. "That doesn't sound good, does it?" He glances back as he here's McTiernan shout a victory cry, of sorts. "Hmm. Need any help over there?" He calls out across the building, ever the helpful one.

Moyra makes her way over to the foot of the stairs with the riot shield up. She doesn't look like she knows quite what to do other than wait to see what Hurley does. She calls over her shoulder, "Hey Randal, we might be able to use another guy here."

Fortunately, the sounds of screeching now are obvious enough to give Milosevic sufficient warning to deflect the next loud ball of monkey muscle that comes hurling his way. And the next. But soon the catwalk, and the top part of the stairs, are swarming with creatures.

Dana moves toward the foot of the stairs as well, then up, heading toward McTiernan. "I don't know what to do with it any more than you do," she says. "Club it over the head? Take it to the front door? Maybe run it down and have someone watch the door?" she says, hopeful.

Hurley looks at Milo like he's absolutely insane. "Oh, like *I* know what to do with it," she mutters, eyes widening at the monkey in McTiernan's arms. "Um, try tossing it down the stairs? Maybe Randal can chase it out?" As she talks, she raises her shield, preparing to battle the monkey in the event her plan doesn't work. And then she slowly turns her gaze up towards the catwalk, the top of the stairs and around. "Oh Prophets protect us," she murmurs, lifting the shield to cover above her and shifting to help cover McTiernan and Danaas well. And, she does what she's best at in situations like this. She taps at her combadge to hail the Paine.

GAME: McTiernan contests her Fitness/Strength vs Moderate and Fails.

McTiernan knew she'd never be able to *hold* the critter but the feat was in being safe from it's sharp teeth. The monkey yanks away with a vicious kick to her belly with its strong legs. She grunts and bends in half in a position of self protection as it scampers off. "Incoming!" she manages to get out as she sucks in a breath, trying to not get ill from the poo fumes.

GAME: Milosevic contests his Athletics vs Routine and Succeeds.

Milosevic dodges left, then right, as balls of fur fly at him with shrieks. After the second one, he watches a wave of monkeys flow his direction on the top of the stairs and without thought, he takes three steps forward and jumps forward through the crowd of primates to a clear spot behind them, rolling to a crouch and looking around quickly for new attackers. "Ha! Damned dirty apes!"

Randal sighs, and jogs over to the bottom of the stairs, coming up behind Moyra and Dana. "What's with all the... oh." His eye fall first upon the seething mass of angry primates. "Ah... guys? I don't think the direct approach was such a good idea." His eyebrows knit as he watches the others forge a path up the stairs ahead of them.

The guards, for their part, flip out stunners and start stunning the things that make it to the ground level. There's the occasional flicker-flash of energy, but nothing so hot as to, you know, combust volatile monkey-poo. There's the sound of a voice over Hurley's combadge. A familiar blue voice. "Go ahead, Lieutenant."

. o O Hurley automatically cringes at the sound of the voice. Yup. Dead Hurley.

Moyra is at the base of the stairs, trying to knock out the primates with the blunt end of the shield. She doesn't want to hurt them, just stun them long enough to get these dirty creatures where they need to go.

Dana studies the situation for a moment or two, then puts her back to the wall, the shield in front of her. "Maybe we could use Milo as bait to get them down here and herd them out the door?" she offers. "We CAN get them out of here, and they seem to like Milo quite a bit." Yes, she's referring to Milosevic in the familiar. Unlike Moyra, she's NOT taking swipes at the apes, just trying to stay out of their way.

"Sir," Hurley speaks rapidly into her combadge, trying to keep her voice above the screeching sound of the monkeys in the background without sounding panicky, "We, ah, have some new friends that we need transported from our location to a nearby transport. For our safety and theirs, I'm requesting assistance." She's learned by now to not just divulge all information without being available to debate it all with her superiors, and, taking a few notes from the Book of Edwards, gives out as many details as is necessary without forcing a flatout refusal of assistance. Pausing, she glances to Dana, then up towards Milo. Away from her combadge, she says, "The longer we stay here, the more in danger we put ourselves /and/ those primates."

McTiernan really has to go to the bathroom. It wasn't just a ploy and now, her tummy is flip flopping too. She ducks under the shied that Hurley is holding up as her hands find the one she dropped while holding the monkey. She comes to her feet, a look at Chris as she talking to Ghorev.

. o O Hurley thinks, "Wait. If Milo's in charge, Commander Ghorev will be glaring at *him*, not *me*."

. o O Hurley has sudden relief.

GAME: Milosevic spends a courage point.

GAME: Milosevic contests his Presence/Willpower+A vs Challenging and Fails.

Milosevic stands up from where he landed and sees the crowd of bandethin between him and the stairs, most of them near the edge of the level. He looks left and then looks right. Taking in a deep breath laden with the scent of spoor, he lets it out, then takes in another breath, holding it for a moment. And then he holds the shield in front of him and screams and yells, running full tilt at the main crowd of monkeys near the edge and angled away from the stairs, trying to scare/push them off the edge to the level below.

GAME: Randal contests his Intimidation/Bluster vs Moderate and Marginally Succeeds.

"No, wait!" Randal shouts, trying to be heard over the angry, angry monkeys. "You can't beam them to the transport, that's exactly what the Occans want!" And we couldn't have that, could we? He watches Milosevic's display. Taking his riot shield by its bottom edge, he climbs the stairs just a few steps and slams it on the railing with a horrendous -WHACK- before shouting at the top of his lungs "RAAAaaawr!" It's only slightly more dignified than beating his chest before his distant primal cousins, but still, at least their keeping their distance as Randal advances up the stairs. Of course, their still making grabs at him from their little arms' reach.

The bandithen don't seem to like Milo's loud return, either. Half of them get in his face, practically puffing up and returning the display of male aggression. The other half, well, they back up a bit, clustering near the doorways to the office suites, likewise screeching and shrieking but in a more defensive vein. Over all this, those who are close enough to Hurley can hear Ghorev's voice -- "... sounds like a Klingon Opera at double-speed down there ... locking on transporters ..."

GAME: Dana spends a courage point.

GAME: Dana contests her Social Sciences+A vs Moderate and Fails.

Moyra decides to join the men in yelling at the monkeys. Beating her shield and screaming at the top of her lungs at the little evil creatures. Moyra is giving it her cheerleading all, trying to intimidate the darn things.

Dana looks up, studying the gathering of apes. "You know," she says wonderingly, "It reminds me of the time the Pakleds were having a party." She's still making herself as small a target of possible. "Err, folks? They're packing together. That's not a good sign. I don't know WHY they're packing like that, but it's not going to be pretty. Perhaps have the Commander beam US out and we can come back, better armed, to complete our punishment?"

"What do you suggest, Randal?" Hurley shouts above the noise, this time not caring if the combadge picks up the conversation. "We were sentenced to clear them of this building. Should we run the risk of further punishment by not relocating them?" She reaches down and grabs the shield McTiernan dropped and tries to create a Roman shield with the two to protect the two women plus her huddling under them. "Commander, I'm at a loss. Ensign Milosevic is currently trying to herd the creatures away." She pauses and looks down at the guards.

. o O Hurley thinks, "I really just wanted fresh air. Fresh, clean air. A nice little down time. And here we are. This is very much not fresh air."

McTiernan's voice is clear enough to be picked up by her open link to the Paine. "Sir.. there is concern that the Occan government is using us to do something that's just .. not right. Can you have them transport the non away team animal life forms to the top floor of the building we're in to give us time?" This comes out in a rush so she'll be lucky if Ghorev can break through what she's asking.

Milosevic stands his ground, still screaming and screeching loudly at the creatures, matching Randal now in his ferocity. He bangs the shield and advances more now on the bandethin, seeking to push them back together into a knot.

Randal stops with all the beating and primal screaming to turn to Hurley. "Did you see any animal control specialists?" He shouts, fully hoping to be head over the comm channel as well. "Do you think those transports can safely and comfortably carry this many monkeys?" You know, it isn't the best time to have a moral debate when you're hip-deep in hostile native creatures, but Randal always seems to pick the absolute worse timing for that sort of thing. Par for the course. "Beam them to their natural habitat! We clear the place of monkeys /and/ we one-up the Occans! Everybody wins!"

There is the sparkle, and the superheterodyne whine as the baboon-like bandithen fade to motes, all dozen or so on the main top-side catwalk. Oh. Right. USS Thomas Paine can transport 12 at a time, not 6. After a moment, the Big Blue Voice: "Mister Hurley, we have seven minutes to put those creatures *somewhere*. Frankly, it hardly matters where to me. But our sensors are showing four or five more in one of the rooms about twelve meters from your location. Life signs too erratic to risk beaming, and I don't think they're a threat to you. Thomas Paine's trainsporter room is standing by for your choice of a final destination for the ones we have."

At the transport of the hostile monkeys, Moyra stops her banging and yelling and straightens up. She glances over at Randal as if to say, 'Now what?'

Dana looks up the stairs and whimpers softly, then pauses, considering. "Um, where do the Occan's WANT them? We can have the Paine put them there while we work on getting out these last six. Six we can handle. Eighteen we cannot. Sir," she calls, addressing Hurley. "Where do our hosts want them? We've got the resources, let's use 'em. There was no rule that we couldn't have help with our punishment."

Quick decision! Hurley glances to McTiernan, Randal, and up to the swarmed Milosevic. With a nod, she shouts, "Natural habitat. Look for a place that primates would like to hang out and do their thing safely away from civilization. Far away from civilization. The erratic life signs... are they in danger? Do we need to transport them carefully?" She pauses, then nods. "We'll handle the six, Sir. The rest, though, we'd be much obliged."

McTiernan jumps up and turns to make her way up the stairs. "This is a mistake" she mutters aloud, thinking that they've GOT to be missing something simple. why the protestors if the Occan's where just going to move them to their natural habitat? It doesn't make sense.

Milosevic walks forward to the office door the ones were protecting, guessing it is the one in question that holds the six with erratic lifesigns. "I'm going in to check on the other six! Opening the door...now!" He taps the door panel and takes a shallow breath as the portal opens. He calls out to be heard by Hurley's combadge, "Prepare for emergency beam out, one Milo Milosevic if this isn't what I think it is.

Randal moves up the stairs, now that it's clear of primates. "Well, we got seven minutes to look around before we beam those guys anywhere. We can take a closer look now," he comments. He glances around, looking to follow shortly behind Milosevic.

"Very well, Mister Hurley," comes the voice of the Andorian Commander. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm reasonably sure I'm going to have to prepare for an angry hail sometime within the next half-hour from a Justice of the Peace, concerned with our interference in your .... situation." Well, clearly there's no keeping this one from The Blue Fella. "Thomas Paine out." And as Milo completes the process of pushing the half-opened manual hatch the rest of the way, there, in the darkness, a few bandithen crouch, making hissing, threatening displays. Well, three of them do, at any rate, looking all clawed up and wounded themselves. They crouch near the three others, whose noises are ... different. Pained. Harsh and labored, in a significant way.

Moyra steps aside to let Randal go before her, "You can go first, I'll just stay here and follow up from behind." While Moyra is by no means a coward, those nasty primates are something she doesn't want to get too close to.

Dana moves to the steps as well, following up behind Randal. "Might as well get this over with."

"Be careful!" Christine calls as she bounds up the stairs after McTiernan with both shields. "We don't know what kind of diseases they're carrying or what they're guarding and none of us, that I know of, are animal control specialists as Randal pointed out." She stops speaking to finish running up the stairs without much panting when she gets to the top.

McTiernan isn't far behind Milo as he opens that door and she freezes. Oh Spirits! This isn't good. "Hey!" she calls out as she slides to a stop. "What if they want the babies? I'm not expert but I know with baby well enough!"

Milosevic looks over the situation and then makes a snap decision. He taps his combadge, "Payne? Drop that dozen into the courthouse south of our current position and then beam out the six lifeforms around my combadge in ten seconds! I think we've found the real reason we were sent in here!" He pulls his combadge off and tosses it lightly to fall at the side of one of the pregnant females in the center of the six, as best as he can get anyway.

Randal's brow furrows. "That explains the erratic life signs," he comments. "Three of them are pregnant, and three are very injured. I think we need to stay out of that room... I'm pretty sure we'll get attacked if we try to approach those pregnant bandithen. Of course, that being the case, how we're going to safely move them is now very complicated." He glances toward McTiernan, then says in a slow, thoughtful voice, "Would there be any information on the bandithen in the Thomas Paine's databank?" He glances over at Milosevic with a wry smirk. "I like that idea, I really do, but aren't we asking for trouble if we do that? Plus, I don't think they'll use nonlethal force to clear the courthouse of bandithen, if they're suprised."

"Negative, Ensign," comes Ghorev's reply. "In case you couldn't hear through the earlier screeching din, we cannot transport those six -- life signs are too weak. And I am hardly going to turn a dozen howling lesser primates loose on the Occan justice system." A pause. "They have too many already." Wow. A sense of humor. Who knew? "Complete your task there, and hail in the morning when the magistrate signs off on your work. Ghorev out."

. o O Randal thinks, "I'm being nice. You're a nitwit, Milosevic, and you're going to get these poor creatures exterminated. Look... they even protect their injured with their pregnant mothers."

Moyra glances at Dana and Randal, "I guess there goes the cavalry," she says with a wry smile. "So people...what do we want to do?" She looks now over at the Starfleeters, "Any ideas on how to get the rest out of here?"

Dana peers around the Starfleeters and the skittering combadge to tilt her head to the side slightly. "Three dying, three pregnant," she says quietly. "What CAN we do? None of us is qualified in ape delivery. And I'm not sure about you all, but my studies taught me that approaching injured wild animals was generally a very, very bad thing. Maybe we can close the door, work on cleaning out the rest of the place of the..." She crinkles her nose, looking at her poor shoes. "Stuff. Then check back in on them?"

Hurley blinks rapidly a couple of times, stares at Milo and turns to thrust one of her shields at Randal. "Watch for the guards," she states simply. "If something's hokey, then they're likely to be joining us *very* soon." She pauses, lowers her voice and murmurs *barely* above a whisper, "If you can get one of their stun guns, all the better. We'll, ah, claim it's for defense, hmm?" Defense against *whom* is another question entirely, however. Glancing back to the room, down to her shield, she turns a quick smile to Moyra. "Carefully," she says with a small nod added to Dana. "Agreed."

McTiernan just stares at Hurley's combadge then snorts through her nose. She closes the door, leaving the mommies alone for the moment and also keeping them contained. She crosses her arms over her chest and digs in. "I am NOT turning these guys over to them without know why in the hell they want them so badly. Lets just get that out there in the open right now. I won't do it. Shoot me, leave me here, whatever" she growls. "I seriously doubt that they just showed up out of no where and took root here. And if they where just moving them, those protestors wouldn't be out there rioting!" Poor Piper is spinning up into a full blown snit over this. Flaws suck but you're stuck with them. "Let the guards come.. they'll have a hell of a fight on their hands."

. o O Dana thinks, "Shoot her. You know, that holds some appeal right now. I wonder if we could hit Milo with the same shot? I want out of here. I want to go home. Their protesting the removal from the endangered species list. They're not OUR species. This is not OUR world."

Randal gives Hurley a nod and a smirking grin as he takes the second shield. "I'll see what I can do. But we're forgetting one thing. These six can't survive without the help of the others, and if we beam those other bandithen down in the middle of nowhere they'll... well. Go ape." He nods to the room. "This is why the bandithen were squatting. The pregnant ones can't be moved safely and the injured ones won't be able to travel either. The others were just protecting them." His brow creases. "We can't move these bandithen safely. I... think... I have a different idea." He glances around, in that shifty-eyed 'I'm up to something sneaky' way, then turns to go downstairs.

Moyra meanwhile has set herself to cleaning one of the areas on the lower level. She really doesn't have any ideas to help so she's moving on to the other taste. Occasionally she makes a few, "Ahh now that's just nasty," as she finds the large piles of poo. But Moyra does do her best to make herself useful.

Dana considers everyone and everything for a moment. "You know," she muses quietly, a running commentary addressed to no one in particular. "This is not our world. These are not our animals. There's only so far our principles can take us. On the other hand, if someone were to go down and tell the transport guards, in an elevated voice, to make oneself heard over the crowd, that the pregnant and injured ones can't be moved right now..." She trails off, leaving the rest unsaid - and apparently hoping someone catches on.

Hurley lifts her eyebrows as she watches Randal disappear back down the stairs and a grin slowly starts to form. "Let's see what Randal is up to, first," she says to Dana. "But, yeah, I see where you're going with that, I think. See what *they* say about it." Pausing, she looks over to McTiernan, "What do you think about the protestors? Maybe they might be able to help?"

Randal walks down the catwalk just far enough to have a good look around the lobby again, then trots back upstairs. "Well..." he comments returning to the otherss, "One idea would be to distract the guards long enough to cut the force field barricade, and then the protestors could, ahem, stop us from proceeding." He furrows his brow. "That's kind of risky, though. If we give the Occans any evidence that we're breaking our punishment parameters, well. We're screwed."

McTiernan mutters, "Sorry, son. You're mother was thrown out of Starfleet for mutiny and inciting a riot over the treatment of an endanger species of ape on a planet not your own." She rolls a shoulder and nods, "I'll go talk to'em. Not a problem." At Chris' question she pauses and says, "Well, from what I remember of your history on Earth, the animal rights folks didn't usually riot when you where trying to 're-locate' an endangered species to its natural habitat. Of course.. most of those groups where blow off as insane fanatics but you see my point? Something is hinky."

Dana tilts her head to the side slightly, considering. "Sir," she calls to Hurley, quietly. "If you think the guards would let us out long enough, maybe with a shield full of dung, one of us could ask the protestors what the problem is?"

"Of course it is," Christine says mildly, glancing back to the closed door and then to Dana and Piper. "Randal's right. That crowd is far too large for a simple relocation project. And they've had this done several times? Things aren't adding up well, but if we irritate these people, they're not going to sign our release papers in the morning." She exhales and lifts her eyes upwards. "You should probably ask Ensign Milosevic," she murmurs, "though, perhaps a better alternative is having *one* of the protestors come in *here* rather than one of *us* going out there."

There's a guard's voice, calling up the stairs. "Given that the noises have stopped, we're going to assume you either placated or got them out of here somehow. Therefore, prisoners, fall in downstairs to begin clean-up detail."

"I was about to do that, sir. A window. The forcefield only covers the front. I want to go out and talk to them, try to get their help or information on this situation. With your permission of course, sir?" Milo is chomping at the bit to do something, eyeing a window in an abandoned office across the way. "I can make it down and back pretty quick, if you keep the guards busy and downstairs?"

. o O Hurley thinks, "I really don't like the idea of leaving 3 in there to die."

McTiernan whispers to Hurley, "Maybe there is a doctor in the crowd out there. I am.. in a delicate condition?"

Randal sighs. "Well. I suppose we can try talking to that Mikkelson person. I don't think he's going to be reasonable, but I don't see a way we can do something clever and not get caught yet." He glances toward Milosevic. "Not bad. I got a better idea. Toss a compin down there and talk to the protestors through that. Then we don't even have to risk leaving the building." He grins.

Dana looks down the steps and head tilts. "Here we come," she calls brightly, a bubbly note to her voice. "Can we close the door?" she asides to the others. "We haven't seen them, you know." Yup, very low voice.

Hurley peers at Milo, then at Dana, and finally at McTiernan, thoroughly confused. "Piper," she finally says, "You're not going out there alone. Forget it. One person we could deal with. A mob has a mob mentality." Glancing down the stairs, she calls to the guards, "We're starting clean-up up here, we'll be down in just a few minutes." Looking back to Randal, she shakes her head. "Sending a combadge into that mob is only going to get us shouts - mob mentality. We can only deal with *one* person."

This time the guard *barks it*: "Prisoners, fall in immediately!"

Randal crosses his arms. "Well, short of beaming one of the protestors in here, I don't see how we're going to accomplish that. Actually, give me a compin. Why don't we find out what the local news has to say about all this?" He peers toward the door. "You know, those guys are really getting on my nerves. We might want to play along and see what they want."

"Yes," Christine says softly. "They do, afterall, have to sign our release papers." She pauses and looks at McTiernan. "How good are you at faking injuries?" Doesn't wait for a response. "Good. You're our ace. Let's go downstairs and report as ordered."

McTiernan just stares at Hurley for a long moment then sighs. Finally! She grabs Milo's arm and says, "Carry me down? I do believe that darn monkey hurt me something fierce when he kicked me?"

Dana makes for the steps. "Coming, Sir," she calls brightly. "One of us got hit by a monkey and we were making sure she's alright.

Milosevic nods and picks up Piper with a little grunt. Letting her wrap an arm around his neck, he hefts her and heads toward the stairs. "We're coming down. Got an injured, though. Hope one of you guys is a doctor!" He struggles a little not being able to use the rails to guide down the stairs. "If not, find a damn doctor outside! She's pregnant and I doubt your planet wants a murder on its hands?"

By the time the group makes it downstairs, the guards are waiting, and they look to have lost what little comraderie they were displaying earlier. They are harsh now, all business. "Put her down," says the one who appears to be in charge. He gestures to another guard. "You. Have a look at her." Then to the group of prisoners. "There's supplies and equipment over there. Get to work. Now."

Dana doesn't hesitate. She drops her shield off to one side and goes for the supplies, getting ready for the cleaning portion of the games.

"So they *do* have a doctor on staff," Hurley notes softly as she grabs supplies to start cleaning up the waste with one last glance up the stairs.

. o O Hurley thinks, "What do we do about them? We can't leave them."

McTiernan curls in on herself as she's set down by Milo. It' snot difficult to act hurt. She just mimics how she was a few days ago in the Infirmary. She makes her breath shallow and panting, hands holding her pregnancy belly as she groans pitifully.

Milosevic moves over to grab some of the supplies and starts cleaning as well, but keeping a close eye on the guards and especially on Piper. As much crap as there is, it actually it's that hard to scoop and dispose.

Randal shrugs. "Or at least, somebody who took a one-week first aid course," he answer Hurley sardonically. He grabs some of the cleaning supplies, but as he starts to clean he keeps looking at Hurley expectantly every few moments. He's apparantly not going to do anything out of turn without following her lead.

After a few moments, the guard giving McTiernan the once over says "She's no good to us, Sergeant. We'll have to evac her to the jailhouse clinic and let the judge decide what happens with her in the morning."

Dana continues to work, though tilts her head to the side and looks at the guard who spoke, giving him the big, wide eyes of doom, as it were. "If I can do her share, can we keep her, please?" she asks quietly. "I...I hate to think of us separated."

Hurley looks at the guard, lowers her cleaning supplies and states, very softly, "I will pick up her workload. She'll still be released with us." It's not a request, but it's not exactly said to sound like an ultimatum, either.

"Please" Piper pleads with the guards. "it'

"Please" Piper pleads with the guards. "it's the smell.. it makes me.. vomit. Morning sickness, you know?" Surely these guys have wives or sisters or someone female that's been pregnant. "I.. I want to finish, I do.. don't you have someone that can.. give me a shot for the nausea? Please? I want to finish what I started." She's pale, the smell is icky, after all.

Milosevic cleans his way over to where Piper is lying down in pain. Carefully, he gives her back her commbadge, slipping it into her hand as he goes to get more cleaning fluids. He whispers something to Piper on the way by and then moves to the pile of supplies.

Randal glances over at McTiernan, then to Hurley. This is an opportunity for something. "Uh... you're gonna need some help keeping that crowd back when you lower the field," he says, glancing toward the guards. "You can't carry her out, keep her safe and cover the entrance to keep those wackos out. Some of us have security training, you know." Well. training in circumventing security maybe, but that counts, right?

The sergeant barks. "Prisoners, Atten-SHUN!" That isn't a request, either. He looks around, angry now. "You lot don't seem to get that you're not officers down here," then, with a glance to Dana and Randal and (the quiet) Moyra, "or whatever you are. You're prisoners, duly convicted and lawfully sentenced, and you don't get to make bargains or set conditions. This woman, since she clearly is in no condition to work, and we lack the medications to treat her here, will be sent to the jailhouse clinic for further examination and treatment. The rest of you will work without a peep until morning. If that is not abundantly clear, I can have you all transported to a jail cell right now to face the magistrate in the morning." He looks from face to face. "Now, *is* that abundantly clear?"

Dana looks at the guard, turns of lovely shade of skim-milk, hastens her cleaning and squeaks, "Yes sir."

Hurley eyes the sergeant for a long while, glances to McTiernan, then to Randal, and back to the guard. Finally, she nods. "Crystal, Sir," she says with a small crack of a smile. "Thank you, Sir," she adds after just a moment of thought. "I'll keep that in mind when requesting aid for this planet from my superiors, Sir." And, as instructed, she's at attention waiting to finish her sentence in silence.

It's more Randal's words then the guards that get through to Piper. Her fingers curl around the combadge given her by Milo as she lets out a small whimper. After Hurley speaks, she remains silent.

Milosevic sighs and then goes silent as well. He nods to the guards and gets back to work. "Time's running out, people. Let's get this finished up." He stops working for a moment and goes to the Sergeant, clearing his throat to get his attention. "Sir, take good care of that lady there. Regardless of our punishment, I swear by the Great Bird of the Galaxy that if you or your people harm a hair on her head, you'll regret it. Understand me?"

Randal and absolute authority make for a volatile combination, especially when that authority is being exerted over him. Fortunately, though, he manages to restrain his response to rolling of his eyes and an indignant, "Yeah, whatever," before he gets back to work, although he keeps the guards and the force-fielded exit in the corner of his vision after his reply.

The sergeant makes a gesture to one of his people, then to McTiernan, then to Hurley. "Get the expectant mother, and Little Miss Smart Mouth, out of here, and into the transport. You are authorized to use incapacitating force if she" -- Hurley? -- "resists, or if any of these prisoners, or the crowd outside, attempt to intervene." Then he turns to Milosevic. "As for you, tough guy, not one peep. You so much as move, you so much as *speak again*, and you're going to be napping until the magistrate authorizes medical attention. Now *work*."

Dana keeps her head down and her hands busy as she dives into cleaning up what remains of the inhabitation without any real thought for hands, comfort, shoes or clothes. Apparently the guard made his point to the Centauran, and she's working double-time. She falls into a rhythm, and just keeps going. The only odd note is that she stays a sickly shade of "terrified." Dana apparently doesn't even dream of making a peep.

Hurley offers no resistance as she's led away from the rest of the team, but she does cast one last worried glance back to Randal.

. o O Randal thinks, "Four guards against that throng of people? I hope this gets messy. These jack-booted thugs deserve a complication or two."

. o O Hurley thinks, "Oh Prophets. No, we can't bargain with them now. But, what? They expect me to give a glowing report of our experience on this planet when asked for information while our superiors are considering *aid* to them? I'm not being sarcastic, you overbearing tub of bulky carbohydrates. I'm /warning/ you that we're /not/ going to forget any of this."

McTiernan groans, for all kinds of reasons at this point. Randal, the others, Milo's mouth. Ugh. She flicks a glance at Hurley then the pissy guard and sighs.

. o O Hurley thinks, "And for that... I can't even make sure everyone's going to be alright."

Milosevic stares at the sergeant a little longer than he should, but says nothing else. Finally, with a nod, he turns and goes back to cleaning the floors. Eyes lift up to look at Randal.

. o O Dana thinks, "One night. One night versus one year. One night. Hands, I'll pamper you when we get home. I promise. Think of a nice shower with pretty scented lotions. Rose. No, maybe lilac. Baby powder. Think of nice scents. Don't think of the guards or of what could happen to you if you don't work. Work as fast and as hard as you can. Working for three. Think of the pretty smells and soft sheets on the station."

. o O Dana is terrified out of her wits and firmly settled into survival mode.

Randal glances to Hurley, then Milosevic, then the guards, and then the barrier and the crowd that lies beyond. He's considering something, but he waits to see what happens next.

Within a couple of minutes, the guard in question has taken McTiernan and Hurley away, out to a back loading ramp where a small pod picks them all up -- no need for a large transport for only a few people. Work continues quietly for the remaining misdemeanants until, from upstairs, there is a series of howling shrieks, different than the ones before. "What the---?" says one of the guards.

Dana keeps her head down and doesn't respond. She works. And she works hard. She doesn't react to the shrieks or the guards. Dana simply continues to shovel and move, shovel and move.

Milosevic ignores the sounds as well, keeping to his work and doing his best to make it through the night without being stunned. His eyes meet the head guard's, then he looks upstairs with a questioning, raised eyebrow.

Randal turns to peer at the guard who speaks. He doesn't say anything, for fear of breaking silence, but his look just wreaks of 'Are you stupid, or something?'

The Sergeant says to one of his men. "Since our work detail seems to have done an incomplete job, go check on that. There doesn't sound to be many of the creatures left. Stun them and drag them down in a pile."

Dana makes a quiet sound in the back of her throat, almost a whimper. "I'm sorry, Sir," she says quietly. "Three pregnant, and three very injured. You called us down before we could get to them." She doesn't stop working, however. "They appeared more dangerous than the others."

. o O Dana thinks, "At least the guard will know what he's going into and may not get hurt, even if he hurts them."

. o O Dana's terror is briefly overlain by sadness. Briefly. Terror wins.

Milosevic looks over at Dana, and nods once. He does not break the silence either, but with this floor mainly cleaned, they need to start upstairs soon anyway?

"Wait!" Randal says, speaking up and dropping what he's doing. "You can't. The ones left up there are either pregnant or injured," he says, speaking up finally, and rather urgently. "You might kill them, even with the stunner."

GAME: Randal has the flaw of Compulsion at -1.

Occan Guard says, "Right," with a curt nod. "And clearly it was so important to you that you *rushed* down to tell us this extremely important information before the whining, complaining, veiled threats, sarcasm, and deal-making." Then, his own sarcasm spent, the Sergeant just shakes his head. "I hope you all are happy, then, in your smug Federation superiority. Becuase clearly you know what's right and we're just a bunch of ignorant chest thumping morons who can't run our own planet." He looks at Randal, who is, ironically, often on the flip side of this very argument with, oh, Starfleet officers. "Now shut up and get back to work."

Dana flinches, but she doesn't argue with the guard. If anything, her head hangs just a little lower. Her pace picks up a little, even though she's clearly starting to tire.

Milosevic continues cleaning as well. So long as they have Hurley and Piper, he is not going to buck the system and take a chance on them being hurt or mistreated.

Randal glances at the stairs, then at the Seargent. "Look, you really don't want to do that." He slides a glance to Dana. "You know... she's a reporter, here. It's bad enough she's getting an expose on the way Occans treat prisoners, even fellow humans," Okay, actually she's Centuaran but she does look human. "You... do know that she's linked to her newsfeed through an implant, right?" When it doubt, lie. "I mean, is it really in good taste for the extermination of a 'watched' species to go live on air?"

GAME: Randal spends a courage point.

The Sergeant looks at Randal for a long moment. "A reporter? Those people are worse than protestors. Get half the story, call it a day. But alright." He motions for the guards to keep an eye on the prisoners, walks off to one side to open a wrist com-link to .... someone. Then, after a hasty minute, returns. "Miss Reporter, Mister whatever-your-name-is, here's the deal. You got 3 minutes to write a quick statement Sub-Director Mikkelsen can give to that crowd out there, about whereever you people put the other bandithen, because that's where these are going to go, nice and easy. And you're going to help us move them. Then you're going to finish out your sentence until morning, then you're going to leave Occan space and not return. Ever. The alternative is that the Sub-Director has the Magistrate reimpose whatever sentence this was supposed to be instead of."

She just gives Randal a look for a long moment, like she'd like to spatter his face in the excrement she's been shoveling. Luckily, however, terror wins out and she nods to the guard. "Yes, Sir," she says quietly. "No problem, Sir." It's a good guess that she's scared spitless, because she doesn't even ask for anything to write with, or on. Her head simply bobs, quickly, even as she continues shoveling.

Milosevic relaxes slightly, looking at the other two and smiling. He keeps working, as he wasn't invited to the confab, nor was he part of the 'deal'.

Randal nods to the Sergeant with a smile. "See? Now I knew you were a good man." Oh, that was sincere, but at least Randal was honestly trying to sound that way. "Um... I should point out that by the sounds of things, we may need to move more than just the six that were up there, originally. You guys might want to cart in some experts on caring for these bandithen creatures. Like, soon."

And that is where things start to happen. A speech is thrown together, Sub-Director Mikkelsen arrives to address the crowd. Thomas Paine confirms transport of the males to some isolated patch of wildnerness, a shuttle is sent down to bring the mothers and babies to join them. And, in the end, all that's left is shoveling the manure away. "A dirty job," confirms the magistrate come morning, "but that's what we primates all do, I suppose -- groom each other, beat on our chests, protect our pregnant mates, foul and clean our lairs. The ties that bind us all. Case dismissed. Court adjourned."