Imperial Glory

 Episode Name:  Imperial Glory

   Written By:  Eidolon

         Cast:  Dane, Donavon, Eidolon, Harris, Lopez, Park, Randal and Takamura.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Eidolon

     Aired On:  Sun Jul 17 22:25:00 2005

     Stardate:  55122.5

Time: Sun Jul 17 17:31:09 2005

Stardate: 55122.1

LAST TIME, ON STAR TREK: ANOMALY:

A Constitution-class starship, hull boldly emblazoned with the name 'USS LEXINGTON NCC-1709' cuts through a flurry of purple energy-weapon fire, taking several hits in the process.

Harris keeps working the helm. "I can't shake them," he calls over his shoulder. "They're all over us, and we're a bloated cow in comparison." That doesn't stop him from trying, though, even as the ship shakes under another impact.

"Shield integrity at 17, Lieutenant, and severely dropping. We're left with fully charged phasers." Eyes glance again to the console and back at Takamura. "All torps are rigged as fireworks. We could fire 'em in the Jem'Hadar's path. Cause a distraction to buy Rob time to jerk the Lexington free of this melee." Donavon preps to fire upon command.

Randal drops the extinguisher unceremoniously and steps over to the Cadet. "Come with me. We need you." He steps over to the science console with the Cadet and starts the scan. Likely, he'll end up doing the work what with the Cadet being in bad shape. "I can try and do something with to give you more speed in the engines in a bit..."

Takamura steps off the turbolift, heading for the command chair, using the railings to keep from being thrown too much. "Donavon, lay down some suppressive fire with the phasers first. If Thorne can get us that speed, we'll use the torpedoes to cover our escape."

Randal shouts, "Rob! Check out heading 216 mark 10," he calls out, peering into the sensor hood. "There's an opening in the Dominion fleet that we can use to get out of this furball." He looks around. "Engineering... which console's engineering?" He goes down the row of consoles along the bridge.

Harris keeps his gaze in the tactical viewer. "Suppression fire, aye," he calls. "Evasive manuevers, pattern delta." As the ship veers around, he swallows hard. "Hang on."

Meanwhile, on the speakers, there's a familiar voice -- an all too familiar voice, in fact. "I trust, Lexington, that you have a reasonable excuse for being here?" Akeen Ghorev asks over the communications channel.

Takamura manages to settle into the command chair just as Harris begins his evasive manuvers. He holds onto the armrests since there are no seatbelts on this ride. "Commander, we were on a routine passage from the station to Dulcais Prime. There shouldn't have been any Dominion activity in the area."

The viewscreen slowly flickers to life, revealing Commander Ghorev, seated in the center chair of the Thomas Paine.

There are differences, though. The interior decoration is done in black, yet has a cushy look to it -- like the person who sits there is meant to enjoy his power.

Ghorev, too, is different, hair spiked, and a cruel scar running up his left cheek and underneath a black eyepatch. His uniform is totally black, save for the communicator on his chest -- a knife impaling a Starfleet delta.

"Your passage has been anything but routine, Mister Takamura," the man on the screen replies. "I'm afraid you're in far more trouble than you realize."

AND NOW, THE CONTINUATION...

The Lexington rockets up and away from the Starfleet/Dominion battle, trailing plasma from her port nacelle. Scorch marks mar her hull, but she's still mostly in one piece.

On the bridge, the smoke from the recently extinguished fire casts a cloud over everything, with the red emergency lights cutting through the gloom. The red alert klaxon continues to wail in the background, calling the crewmembers that once walked these corridors to battle stations.

On the screen, Akeen Ghorev -- who is not Ghorev, but also is -- waits on the viewscreen, expression reminiscent of a cat who has the mouse cornered, and is well aware of it, too.

Takamura blinks at the unfamiliar, but similar, image facing him on the screen. "Considering we are in the middle of a battle that we were unaware of, I would say that is an obvious statement, sir. Will you be able to provide us assistance?" He glances about the bridge to check the status of his crew before returning his gaze to the Andorian."

Donavon taps her console in a retreating concerned fashion. The image on the viewscreen hardly calls forth complete faith and trust or even pixie dust. Suspicion rises as she taps her controls for a scan and darts a glance at Randal and Lopez, questioning this situation.

Lopez holds her ear piece, no longer necessary with the onscreen presentation of a very different picture. Stunned is a good term for her expression. She responds to Donavon with little more than a little shrug of: you got me.

Dane looks up at the screen in shock as she sees Ghorev but it's not, she blinks and mutters. "Nice hair cut " before looking around for anyone injured her medical kit held firmly in her hands.

. o O Lopez thinks, "Look at that insignia...."

Randal tosses a furrowed expression at the viewscreen, but for only a moment. He meets Donavon's glance with a sort an equally questioning expression, then focuses back on the engineering controls. Now would be a very good time to get the Lexington's warp drive working.

GAME: Donavon spends a courage point.

GAME: Donavon contests her Shipboard Systems+A vs Moderate and Succeeds.

GAME: Randal has the merit of Innovative at 1.

. o O Donavon thinks, "We're not in the Beta Quadrant anymore."

GAME: Randal contests his Propulsion Engineering+A vs Challenging and Succeeds.

"C'mon baby, c'mon," Harris mutters at the helm as his fingers work the console. "Just a little bit more, and then I promise we'll rest."

GAME: Harris spends a courage point.

GAME: Harris contests his Shipboard Systems/Flight Control+A vs Difficult and Fails.

The bridge is littered with dead bodies from the crew who was supposed to be up here, laying at odd angles around the bridge.

Ghorev, in the meantime, just smiles in a way that's just this side of completely feral. "If you power down your engines and signal your surrender, Mister Takamura, I will not blot you -- and your ancient starship -- from existance. Those will be the extent of the assistance that you recieve." As if to prove his point, he makes a slight signal with his right hand to someone off-screen, and then the ship jerks as if it's been kicked. The auxiliary environmental control station explodes and catches Kran'dok in the blast, and the Romulan falls to the deck without a sound.

GAME: Donavon contests her Shipboard Systems+A vs Challenging and Marginally Succeeds.

Takamura makes a gesture to cut the transmission by passing his thumb across his throat. "Lopez, end transmission." Once the channel is closed, he continues. "Thorne, get us those warp engines. Harris get us out of here. I don't care where as long as it's away from here and that sadist." The Japanese man then leaves his seat in the command chair to take up the navigator's seat next to Harris. "Donavon, try to keep those shields up."

GAME: Lopez spends a courage point.

GAME: Lopez contests her Space Sciences+A vs Challenging and Marginally Succeeds.

Donavon waits for the transmission to end. "Aye, sir." She verifies that the shields are boosting before announcing. "Rob, I picked up scans of the surrounding area. Sending them to nav conn. We're about three lightyears from Dulcais Prime and I'm not picking up the Anomaly. There's some damage to our sensors which is interfering with more definitive scans, but I can surmise we are near the course it would have taken to get from the station to Dulcais."

Lopez snaps off the display, and leaves communications in a hurry to join Mr. Harris in the neighboring navigation station, beside the helm. "Not your abuelito's Federation, and thats for sure," she comments under her breath, throwing herself into the station. "Machine this old Mr. Harris, you treat it like a baby and its going to act like one. Mr. Thorne, how's propulsion looking?" She pokes for a seconds, and says, "Theres a small asteroid field at 90 mark 47, range one light year... can we make that?"

Dane looks back up at the screen, surprise and fear flickers across her face when the Andorian demands their surrender. "What the... " She says trailing off when the ship jerks, she turns in time to see the Uhlan go down. Gasping the Trill is at his side almost without thinking. She grabs for the medical case fingers thumbling at the catchs to get it undone, quickly she brings out her medical scanner and runs it along the Romulan's prone body.

Randal smiles as his efforts are rewarded by the changing of several red indicators on his console to green. He is distracted in the next moment, however, when the console near Kran'dok explodes, his eyes fixing on the prone form of the Romulan with alarm. "You've got Warp 3," he comments. "The portside plasma injectors are heavily damaged, so if we push them any farther they might blow apart from the strain."

. o O Takamura thinks, "Meg said that I needed some adventure in my life. I hope this qualifies."

Harris grips the console as the ship rocks, going a bit pale. "You want me to outrun the Thomas Paine for a light year at warp 3? I hope everyone's updated their wills recently." He pauses for a moment, then swallows. "Alright, here we go. Aft phasers firing."

GAME: Harris contests his Shipboard Systems/Flight Control+A vs Difficult and Succeeds.

GAME: Harris contests his Shipboard Systems vs Moderate and Succeeds.

. o O Harris thinks, "I'm good, but I don't think I'm -that- good."

The Lexington's aft phasers whine, scoring a direct hit on the Paine's shields as Harris coaxes the old girl to warp speed -- moving the ship out of the return fire just before another torpedo impacts the aft shield.

The acceleration, though, is anything but smooth. The whine of the engines has become a roar mixed with a gravel truck, and the inertial dampeners just out of phase enough to make the bridge vibrate rather theatrically.

. o O Dane thinks, "Please be ok, please be ok!"

. o O Dane shocked, frightend dread.

Dane looks up from her scanner. "He needs to go down to sick bay. " She says softly. "Do I have permission to take him down sir. " She says looking at Takamura her face a mask of worry. "I can also check on the folks down there. " She says. "I'm not much use up here. " She adds softly, "Should have crosses trained. " She mutters.

With Lopez taking the navigation spot, Takamura returns to the Captain's Chair. Holding onto the armrests, he does his best not to get rattled out of it. "The asteroid belt is probably our best bet right now until we can find a better place to lay low. Donavon, get me a damage report. Thorne make sure we don't blow ourselves up with the warp engines. Dane, go ahead and take him to the infirmary and help Commander Park."

GAME: Donavon contests her Shipboard Systems vs Moderate and Marginally Succeeds.

GAME: Lopez contests her Shipboard Systems vs Challenging and Succeeds.

Donavon manages by gripping the console not to tumble or toss over the bridge. Pressing weight to one side of her body, propped on the console, she examines assets the Lexington. "We have moderate damage across the board. Life support is out on decks 15-21. Dispatch is being ordered to begin evacuation on those decks. And it looks like what Randal feared. The portside plasma injectors are shot. I'm not picking up more due to damage to our computer systems. We need to find a place to tuck down or she's likely to fall apart, sir."

Lopez displays a sensor-sweep of the field, and points to a point on the representation.. "That asteroid, there, might fit the bill. Its got a pocket of space inside big enough to hold us... and that one, and that.... yes that one. Options."

Dane nods her head at the Lt and quickly gets a group of people whom aren't injuried to carry the Romulan down to sick bay. She rushs on ahead of them to perpare for his arrival.

"Yeah, well, pick one," Randal says brusquely. "A couple more photon torpedoes from the Thomas Paine and we won't have to worry about the warp drive blowing itself apart. Isn't there anything we can do to slow them down, jam their sensors frequencies, something? I mean... you guys should know that ship inside out, yeah?" He turns to look at Takamura. "Because outrunning them? Not an option at the moment."

. o O Lopez thinks, "No, really? Thank you, Mr. Thorne, for that genius observation."

"Not to throw a damper on this parade," Harris snaps over his shoulder, "But it's going to take a little less than two weeks to get there at warp 3, and I can't evade a fleet. As soon as they dispatch the Dominion ships, we are going to be in a lot of trouble. Tactically, we're about equal to the Paine, but..." he squeezes off another phaser blast, "...I'm not God. We're going to need to find another option, and we're going to need to do it soon."

GAME: Harris contests his Shipboard Systems vs Moderate and Dramatically Fails.

As Harris hits the control for the phasers, a bunch of red lights that indicate very bad things are happening show up on Randal's engineering board, and there's a distant rumbling in the ship somewhere -- internal explosions.

The roar of the engines takes on a new, whining sort of note -- like a scream of pain, almost.

"Aw, geez!" Randal slaps a button on his console, abruptly cutting power to the warp drive. "The portside plasma conduit just breached on us! I've got take warp drive offline... and I'm not sure there's anything I can do to get it back online." He stands. "Certainly not from here. I can go down and see what I can do, but don't be optimistic."

Takamura clenches his jaw at all the news reports. "Then head down to engineering and see what you can do." He directs to Randal. "With phasers only, can we disable the Paine to keep them from destroying us? Otherwise, I'm open to suggestions."

. o O Lopez thinks, "Don't we have ANYTHING on this thing to serve as a deterrant?"

Donavon jerks about across the chair, still clinging to her spot. Murmurs continue as she communicates with Dispatch, concentrating on directing personnel and civilians.

Lopez reports, "We've got several other ships breaking off to assist the Paine, coming on. A Galaxy and... two I-don't-know-whats... We've got torpedos converted to fireworks in the bays, didn't you say?" she asks Donavon. "Nothing more than a BRIEF surprise for them. I've got nothing."

Dane rushs down to the medical bay, quickly her feet carring her almost at a run. She slips in ahead of the paient and his carries. "Nurse set up a spare bed. " she calls voice just a little shak. She nods at the commander before helping the nurse set up a bio bed. "Place him down. " She then turns back to the nurse. "Monitor him, he's got slight trauma. " She says, then rushs off to see whom else needs her attention.

Randal braces himself as he waits for the turbolift doors to open after he reaches them, then grabs a hold of control handle. "Deck 21!" he orders, figuring it may be safer to disembark one deck above the proverbial hot zone and assess his options for restoring warp power from there.

GAME: Harris spends a courage point.

GAME: Harris contests his Starship Tactics/Naval vs Difficult and Succeeds.

GAME: Harris contests his Shipboard Systems/Flight Control+A vs Difficult and Marginally Fails.

Harris grits his teeth as the ship drops out of warp speed. "If we target their aft shield generators, we might have a prayer. The friends, though, we can't do anything about." The stars slew around for a moment, bobbing crazily as he initiates evasive manuevers once again.

There's a barely audible rumble as the Paine catches up with the Lexington and fires phasers, scoring an indirect hit. The speakers click on, and Ghorev's voice comes on. "Lexington, surrender. You are outnumbered, outgunned, and out of time."

GAME: Takamura contests his Starship Tactics/Naval vs Challenging and Fails.

. o O Lopez thinks, "Nice alliteration. Now please don't blow us up?"

Takamura frowns deeply at all the bad news around him. "As much as I hate to admit it, I think the commander is right. We're going to have to heave to and surrender. Contact the Paine and signal our surrender. Then power down our weapons and shields."

Donavon suddenly feels the dread rise up within her, lingering a gaze upon each individual on the bridge. "Aye, sir," is said clearly but without much energy. She waits for the signal to be sent before lowering shields.

. o O Lopez feels a cold knot of disbelief and despair sinking in her gut.

Lopez turns in her station, looking toward command, and then the neighboring station.

GAME: Randal spends a courage point.

GAME: Randal contests his Search+A vs Moderate and Marginally Succeeds.

Randal, meanwhile, discovers that Deck 21 is currently not a fun place to be, particularly if you need to breathe. As the hot, thin air fills his lungs once departing the turbolift, he makes finding a breather unit his first priority. Just as his vision is starting to blur out from the lack of air, he manages to find a storage space with one in it, which he promptly straps over his face. He collapses against the wall for a few moments, catching his breath.

. o O Randal thinks, "Right. Life support, offline. I forgot."

Harris swallows heavily. "Disarming weapons," he states softly. "Lowering shields."

. o O Harris thinks, "And may God have mercy on our souls."

As the shields drop, there's the whine of the transporter effect -- little canisters appearing about the bridge, one in front of Randal, and several between Park and Dane in the infirmary. They sit silently for a moment, then release a white puff of what would appear to be a gas of some kind.

"A wise choice, Mister Takamura..." Ghorev's voice says through the fog, sounding very distant before the white fog of the gas turns to the blackness of unconsciousness.

Park has arrived.

GAME: Harris contests his Fitness/Vitality vs Moderate and Fails.

GAME: Dane contests her Fitness/Vitality vs Moderate and Succeeds.

GAME: Lopez contests her Fitness/Vitality vs Moderate and Succeeds.

GAME: Donavon contests her Fitness/Vitality+A vs Moderate and Succeeds.

GAME: Donavon has the merit of Excellent Metabolism at 1.

GAME: Takamura contests his Fitness/Vitality vs Moderate and Fails.

GAME: Park contests his Fitness/Vitality vs Moderate and Marginally Succeeds.

GAME: Randal contests his Fitness/Vitality vs Moderate and Marginally Succeeds.

Gradually, the lights come back up for the vast majority of the team, which has been stripped of its equipment. There's a roof with light panels in it, and a floor -- but it would appear that there are no walls, the lights from the distant stars shining brightly in the far distance, but there's a much closer sight to see than the stars, or even the Sandstorm.

Before the group is Station 419-U -- its shape is distinctive, and the fuel pods are labeled with the registry of the station. Some of the colors are different, with red and black striping around the identification pennant, which is a Starfleet sigil impaled with a knife, as it was on Ghorev's uniform. It's different, though -- instead of an Anomaly, there is a small planetoid or moon, and orbital drydocks as far as the eye can see, filled with Starfleet vessels of all kinds. Some are familiar -- the Paine hangs at her docking port, several of the drydocks contain half-completed Galaxy and Niagara-class starships, and the Lexington's scarred hull can be seen enclosed in one of the docks as well. Most, however, are different -- and even the familiar ships have a warlike feel to them, with dark grey hulls and bristling with weapons emplacements that Starfleet vessels generally don't sport.

Park sits up, trying to shrug off the effects of the gas and the massive headache that comes with it, but wisely stays on the ground. He does, however, look around to take stock of who's present and who's not.

Donavon clamps a hand to her forehead, rubbing to ease the after effects from the gas. One thing is immediate when her eyes open - alarm. She jerks up, much to the ache against her skull, and creeps around to locate, "Rob? Lieutenant Takamura? Lopez? Randal?" She hears another wake and spots Park as the star patterns illuminate his position. "Lieutenant Commander." Teeth bite down upon her lip, chewing off a curse.

Lopez nrghs uncomfortably, and shifts, one hand dragging up towards her head. Her green eyes pop open, and then cautiously shutter half-closed, making no immediate attempt to sit up. "What...?" she murmurs, and just lets the thought trail off. "Here, Meg." She shifts her eyes around slowly, focusing. "Your head," she says, making out Park. "Ow, caca, MY head."

Dane sits up slowly and shakes her head. "I've been at the ale again. " She mutters looking around and noting that her CO is also awake. Reality comes back to her quickly and she looks around for the Uhlan and the other injured. "Aaron?" she says crawling over towards him. "You ok?" she asks, blinks to stop the room spinning so fast. She also spots a few of the others, her eyes going to the two passed out officers. "Orders sir. " She says softly.

Randal makes an unhappy groaning sound from where he lies. "Five more minutes," he mumbles. "Let me just..." He opens his eyes slowly. "Ow."

Harris snores softly from where he's sprawled on the deck, not making any move to get up -- or even stir, it would seem.

The stars shift slightly as the globe they're enclosed in turns, and it becomes obvious that it isn't attached to anything at all. It just floats, like a seed on the breeze, between the station and one of the drydocks.

Park silently takes stock of the situation through barely opened eyes. "Tak and Harris. Wake them up.", he says quietly, wincing as he does. "Everyone else OK?"

Takamura moans softly as he slowly opens his eyes. Rolling over onto his back, he raises a hand up to cover his eyes and rub his head. "That bastard." He rolls onto his side so he can help himself up into a sitting position.

"Yes, sir, aside from the knocking on St. Peter's Gates," murmurs Donavon who has managed to reach her husband's side. She pulls at his body to try and prop his head upon her lap. "It appears we're in a stasis bubble." Hands pat her sides. "No equipment. Don't suppose anyone was left with anything?"

Lopez starts to slowly sit up. "... this is so -not good-..." she says more to herself than anyone else. Yep. She's fine.

Dane nods her head and moves towards Harris a quick glance is given Takamura, as she passes him she stops and looks up at the big guy "You ok. " She asks softly, seeing Meg has her husband in hand, when the woman speaks up she shakes her head. "I had a medical kit but it's in sickbay, I can go grab it?" She offers.

Randal sits up slightly, and looks around. "Where're the walls?" He says, sounding more confused than alarmed. "Why'd they take the walls?" His brain is slowly catching up with the rest of his body in this returning to consciousness thing.

. o O Dane thinks, "Where's Kran'dok!"

Harris slowly opens an eye, wincing at the jangling bells that sets off in his brain. "No more whiskey," he grumbles, having apparently come to a conclusion on seeing Meg above him. "Never again, okay?"

. o O Harris' brain is on fire. Ow.

. o O Donavon feels a wave of relief once Rob wakes. Safe.

Park glances at Dane and then over to where the Lexington is docked, but doesn't say comment on the suggestion. "Well, if anyone has any bright ideas, I suppose this would be a good time.", he comments, attempting to see if his legs will support his body.

"I see that you have begun to wake," Ghorev's voice says, piped over an intercom link. "So, let me begin by assuring you that you are in an extremely precarious position at the moment. You will answer my questions truthfully, succinctly, and as clearly as possible -- or you will all die. Allow me to demonstrate."

Another bubble floats into view, containing two Jem'Hadar within. With a flash of light, the forcefields containing them collapse, and they're both explosively decompressed before the collective eyes of the group.

"Do we have an understanding?" Ghorev asks softly.

. o O Lopez thinks, "Hijo de perro..."

. o O Donavon thinks, "I'm never going to think of bubble baths the same way again."

Park looks on a bit impassively at least from all appearances. "Yes, we do.", Park answers.

. o O Park thinks, "This is really not good."

Takamura manages to push himself up into a seated position. Holding his head in his hand, which is propped on a knee. He waves Dane off. "I'm alright." Only then does he begin to comprehend the situation around them. Since Park has answered for the group, he doesn't say a word.

Donavon threads her fingers through Harris' as she begins to assist in sitting him up. The bubble pops and she blinks before nodding. Donavon whispers to Harris, "Wish it was only the whiskey. Next time, I'm picking our vacation."

Lopez chokes on a gasp, not being a particularly battle-hardened individual. She gags as she twists away from the grisly scene out beyond the forcefield.

Dane mutters as she didn't realise they were not on the ship anymore. "Anyone got a space suit I can borrow. " She mutters staying close to the men, "How it he, Lt. " She asks Donavon.

Randal arches his eyebrows, looking a bit startled at the fate of the Jem'Hadar nearby. And he also deigns to remain silent, figuring it's best to let anyone except him answer the questions for now.

. o O Randal's mind reels as he tries to rationalize what he sees, in his small single-universal perspective.

. o O Randal thinks, "I knew Ghorev was up to something! But... how did all these drydocks get here? Maybe this is another Timefleet conspiracy..."

Harris shakes his head, then pauses as that causes more fireworks in his skull. "I think you're right on that," he replies to Meg as he first takes in the sight of the dead Jem'Hadar. "My choices aren't great."

. o O Takamura thinks, "Meg, remind me to never listen to you again when you say I need to get out more."

"Very good. We have here a torturer, an assassin, a captain's woman, a security officer," -- that term is filled with particular loathing -- "another torturer, an insurgent, and a dead man, assembled in a cell in the middle of my sector." Ghorev's tone changes a bit, filling with a deadly amusement. "I want to know why this is so. You will each speak."

Park waits to see if there is anything further. "I know very little of how we came to be here.", he replies to the man. "We ran into a massive ion storm while we were traveling to Ducalis aboard that ship." Aaron points toward the Lexington. "Next thing we knew, we were here."

Takamura takes a deep breath, trying to clear his head. "It's like I tried to tell you earlier, Commander. We were all on a routine trip to Dulcais. The ship encountered a storm of some sort and then you're attacking us."

"Pleasure cruise to Dulcais Prime," states Donavon clearly, "for Federation Day festivities. The Lexington was in charge of the fireworks portion. You've probably scanned her already and discovered she's rigged with 'em instead of torps." She brushes her thumb across her husband's hand. "To further prove my superiors' explanations, you only need to review the Lexington's flight patterns."

Lopez pulls her knees up to her chest, not looking at all certain which of the listed roles is hers. I don't know, obviously, is not a choice on this particular test. "Vacation, for Federation day to see the plasma displays...I was standing in a corridor, and then the ship started shaking. We were under attack, and we went to the bridge, and thats when you encountered us."

Dane looks rather scared herself and looks around, she doesn't say anything but moves to Park's side.

Randal looks upward, as if to find the currently disembodied source of the interrogator. "Ah... I'm supposed to be the 'insurgent,' right?" he asks, then adds, "Anyway, there isn't much to add, here. Ship leaves station, ship hits ion storm. Ship finds itself in the middle of a Dominion ambush, and then you show up and threaten to blow us out of the sky. What's the deal with that, Commander? I mean, you have to have most of what we're saying in your sensor logs."

Harris just clears his throat. "What they said."

Ghorev's voice turns deadly again. "I issued very clear and concise directions, and yet, you could not obey them. Miss Dane, I take it you wish to be responsible for the deaths of everyone assembled here?"

The forcefield winks out, and the air starts to escape in a rush before it's reactivated.

"I trust the lesson need not be given again? If it is required, you will all die." Randal's questions are ignored. "So, you are from the Federation?"

Park just nods, but shoots a look at Dane as he does.

Takamura reaches for his throat as the air rushes out. He nods his head vigorously as the forcefield reactivates.

Donavon gasps in deeply the moment air returns. "Yes," she croaks and leans into her husband's warmth unconsciously.

Lopez rubs her hands taking on a stony expression. "Sm-- yes," at the volume expected of a being that has just had half its air drawn from its lunggs.

Dane looks up at Ghorev and shakes her head. "I'm...I'm sorry. " she says softly. "They are right... " she says finding it hard to speak and breath at the same time. "It was a pleasure cruise nothing more, fireworks....Where's the injured...We have people needing medical attention. " She says, glancing around.

Randal reflexively flinches in response with the brush with death. "Yeah, of course!" he shouts hoarsely, although his indignance is washed out in the urgency of his reply.

Harris takes a slow, shuddering breath as the air returns. "Yeah," he agrees. "We're from the Federation."

"So you are either terrorists or spies," Ghorev muses, that same edge on his voice. "I will remind you that I am asking the questions here, and that I am quite capable of ending your life at the single press of a key on my console." That's left hanging for a moment. "I am well aquainted with this Federation of which you speak. Your people attempted to subvert our people, but their loyalty to the Empire was stronger than the propaganda which you attempted to infect them with. Why should I not end all your lives right now? You will all speak."

Park takes a second to regain his breath before speaking. "We are not spies nor terrorists, sir.", he begins. "The story that you have been given is the entirety of the truth. We are here due to a simple mishap, nothing more, and wish to do nothing but return home."

Takamura has regained his breath and the pounding in his head is starting to clear. "We are neither terrorists nor spies. That implies that we intentionally came here. We did not. Our ship was caught up in a freak storm. If we could go home now, we would."

. o O Dane thinks, "Where are we, what's happen, where's my e'lev!"

Donavon opens her mouth for an initial comeback but chews off the idea. "Because what spies or terrorists would use a vessel like the Lexington to sneak behind enemy lines without torpedos? A mere study of her systems will verify our accounts."

. o O Donavon thinks, "Well I don't know Mister Blue & Nasty. We've faced death's door plenty of times that ach, this time around I'm not feeling it. You could have killed us earlier. You want something from us but what?"

Reiterating the refrain, Ana volunteers icily, "We are neither terrorists, spies or subversives. We do not know anything about your Empire -- the insignia we saw you onscreen with is in all ways alien to us. You should not kill us, because obviously you are curious as to what we're doing here -- not a one of us fits the description of what you've listed for us, and a ship of that age showing up randomly, outfitted as we were in the middle of your sector has raised question marks. And if you kill us, you'll never know... and that might not bother you, except for the possibility that it could happen again. We're benign, and obviously helpless-- what would our deaths serve?"

. o O Lopez is absolutely terrified. But that goes without saying.

Dane nods her head slowly catching her breath, she looks towards Ghorev. "I'm not expert on the ship or it's systems sir, but we have no desire to be hostile. " Mir says, looking down after she spoke up.

"Because..." Randal starts out slowly, picking up speed as he assembles an answer to the question. "You...haven't learned the secret to defeating the Dominion yet?" He smiles, faux-innocently. "I'm not really familiar with this Empire you speak of, but, ah... it seems like you aren't faring as well against the Dominion as our Federation did. If you kill us, then this war of yours could go on for quite a long time. And you might not even win it."

Harris turns his gaze to Randal, giving him a 'what the hell are you doing?' sort of look.

Harris turns his gaze to Randal, giving him a 'what the hell are you doing?' sort of look. "You don't have anything to lose by letting us go," he adds.

. o O Randal thinks, "Okay, so this isn't /Ghorev/ Ghorev. So how did a relative of Ghorev join up with an Empire that uses Federation starships? I still don't get it."

"If you do have secrets, I will have them soon enough," Ghorev remarks, his voice waxing icy. "Since I have no reason but to believe you are spies, saboteurs, and terrorists, your sentence is as follows: hard labor for the rest of your natural lives, under the watchful care of the Empire. There is no escape but death." One can almost here the smug, satisfied smirk creeping into his voice. "Your sentence begins immediately."

The forcefield drops once again, and as the air rushes out, there's the rapidly fading whine of a transporter being engaged, and the disorientation of dematerialization.

The men appear in what would appear to be a prison barracks, Andorian guards in Imperial Starfleet uniforms patrolling overhead.

The women appear in what could only be described as a harem.

. o O Lopez thinks, "I really hate that guy..."

Donavon materializes on a platform and takes a firm step forward. "Oooooh nonnonono. That son of the devil is going to beam us immediately out of here." Hands drop to her hips. "This *has* to be a joke. We are *not* going to be their beck and call girls." She sneers at the harem draperies, especially at the pink hues.

. o O Donavon thinks, "Just get him within an inch of me. I'm ready to pull the Poole maneuver."

Lopez looks around them with eyes that narrow to mere slits, and her hand finds her mouth as she crouches down, taking their new setting in. Not a single word passes her lips. Clearly, Ana is just plain stunned.

Dane looks around her eyes widening as she sees where she is. When the horroid decompression feeling is over she finds her voice. "Oh this is so not happening. " She says softly, she seems scared and turns to look at Donavon. "They aren't going to make us...." she can't even finish it, her eyes just seem to dart here and there.

A tired-looking Klingon approaches the males of the group, looking unlike any Klingon any of them have ever met. He's not proud -- in fact, he refuses to meet their gazes, his posture is slumped, and he talks softly. "Welcome to Barracks 929, serving Drydock 18. Work well, and you will be treated well. Work badly, and you will die. The Empire will see to that."

To those of the former timeline, he's recognizable -- barely -- as a two-armed, two-eyed Gr'laH, former Klingon Ambassador to 419-U. To the others, he's just a defeated Klingon.

Park just looks at the man, utterly stunned. "Gr'laH?", he stammers in disbelief.

Takamura catches his breath yet again as they suffer from another exposure to the depths of space. After looking around, he turns to Harris. "Rob, this is the last time I'm letting your wife talk me into taking a vacation with the two of you." He sounds about as serious as the situation that they find themselves in.

Randal raises his eyebrows, peering at Gr'laH. "So, I'm confused," he starts. "Where are we? I this another part of the galaxy? Or did we go through another timeline shift? Or what?" The implications of their immediate vicinity doesn't seem to sink in just yet.

Harris just breathes. "Trust me, I want to leave myself behind next time," he grumbles before he stands to look the Klingon over -- and there's actual sadness in his eyes. "Randal? It's... gonna be a long story."

. o O Harris thinks, "It's... frightening to see no pride in him."

"Like, hi!" greets a bubbly voice from behind the group of new harem girls. Upon turning, they see a very-much almost naked Taylor Green, although she's definitely a blonde here -- both figuratively and literally. "You're new, huh? I'm Tay, but they, like, call me Tricks. Get it?" A giggle. "Like, we're going to have to get you some new clothes and stuff, 'cause you're not gonna fit in too good around here, huh?"

Tay grins again, then turns and calls over her shoulder, "Look, Jiasha, we've got new friends!" Havaris Jiasha raises her arm in a languid sort of wave.

Donavon mocks this Green. "Like Tricks that isn't going to happen, kay?" Eyesrolling at the absurdity of the situation, Donavon turns heels to face her fellow officers. "Perimeter survey." She gestures to Dane and Lopez to take up points to the outskirts. Back to Green, she studies the woman's face, arms crossing over her chest. "We aren't going to be here long so save the speeches. Where is this place?"

Lopez hasn't moved, though the stunned look is gone. She doesn't have Donavon's pluck, or Dane's sweetness to fall back on. Just orders. "Sir," she cautions, as she walk toward the far wall between other bodies at play, "-ease up? Its not their fault. They're in the same boat. I think. And they are potential sources of information." A pause. "About the setup, possibly where the men are, the routine of the guards... the exits?"

Dane looks shocked when she sees Green. "Lt. Green?" she says stunned this is not the woman Mir remebers from her few brief meetings with her. At the suggestion of the change of clothes Mir shakes her head violently and backs off. "I aint wear anything like that." She says pointing to Green's own outfit. "I don't want to fit in I want to go home, I have someone waiting for me I can't be a harem girl!" upon hearing Donavon's order she nods her head going to check the outskirts keeping awat from the other woman. She glad to be doing something to keep her mind from other things.

"That is my name," Gr'laH replies as he turns away. "Shift begins at 0600. Rest. You will need your strength." Still bowed, he moves off into the barracks once again.

"This is just getting better and better.", Park comments under his breath, then turns to look at the rest of those with him. "Let's get the lay of the land, gather what information we can and try to find a way out of here."

. o O Dane thinks, "Oh gosh, please someone wake me up."

Takamura smirks as he looks between Randal and Harris. "Well, it looks like we'll have plenty of time for you to explain it. Unless one of you has a bright idea of how to get out of here and back home." Turning to Park, he nods once. "Aye, sir." And then he heads off to explore the barracks.

. o O Takamura thinks, "Even if we get of the barracks, I don't know how we're going to find the women and the others and then get us all home safely."

Randal, for his part, is not especially good at following directions, and decides to find an empty bunk nearby to sit on. "Yeah. Who are these people? I mean first Ghorev with the funny hair, and now Ambassador Gr'laH with the corrective surgery. Is this supposed to be the past? Because it doesn't look anything like the history vids I watched growing up."

"Well, Randal, it's like this," Harris remarks as he settles next to the bartender, warming up his parallel universe speech, "let's say you have two choices for breakfast -- cereal or yogurt..."

"Oh, silly..." 'Tricks' Green replies with a brilliant smile to Donavon. "Station 419-Upsilon, of course!"

For both halves of the party, it's clearly going to be a long night, but all their thoughts are already turning, as was inevitable, to one topic: escape.

TO BE CONCLUDED...