The Truth of Tellus

 Episode Name:  The Truth of Tellus

   Written By:  Eidolon

         Cast:  Eidolon, Jatila, Jolvan, K'net-mauri, Karntor, Kran'dok and Veltor.

  Produced By:  Starfleet

  Directed By:  Eidolon

     Aired On:  Fri Dec 16 00:01:02 2005

     Stardate:  55485.2

Time: Thu Dec 15 19:33:01 2005

Stardate: 55484.8

The deepening twilight slowly cloaks Natora in shadows, the village all but vanishing due to the flickering of various fires within its boundaries.

In the hills above the city, two figures, clad in cloaks with hoods, make their way higher into the mountains. "It was a night much like this when my father brought me here to see the Star of Trelan," the first figure remarks to his companion as he pauses for a moment to gather his breath. "The heavens parted, and I wept for its beauty."

The other's voice lifts in a girlish laugh. "I think you've been drinking too much kalifel, Vrel," she teases softly, leaning on the first. "It does tend to bring out the poet in you."

"There is no such thing as too /much/ kalifel, ashana," Vrel replies, clearly amused as he turns to pull the female closer. "Especially not on a night like this, so far removed from..."

Suddenly, the air fills with the noise of thunder, and a brilliant meteor streaks overhead, trailing fire as it passes. A few moments later, the rumble of a nearby impact sounds.

"Vrel? What was that?" the female asks, fear in her tone.

The features on the male's face harden, and he lowers the hood on his cloak to reveal his profile -- a delicately pointed ear and a faint v-shaped ridge on his forehead. "I do not know," he admits quietly. "But I believe that we should learn."

FIVE WEEKS LATER...

The light of the system's primaries flare brightly as the terminator is crossed, then fades a bit as the twin stars lift rapidly over the curve of Trelab's surface. It's, without fail, a beautiful sight for those lucky enough to see it. The space above Trelab, however, is empty -- or so it would appear.

But, as always, appearances may be decieving.

"A planet of primatives, scratching at the dirt," grumbles Subcommander Trav as he looks over the readout at the science console on the bridge of the Romulan swift warbird Vhorani, orbiting under cloak. "Were they not in the Neutral Zone, we would have conquered them long ago." He exchanges a look with his science officer, then crosses to the central command chair. "Take us into synchronous orbit above the source of the energy pulses detected eminating from the surface."

The view on the warbird's viewscreen shifts as the ship changes position over the planet's surface, and Trav turns to face his guests. "We've arrived on our assigned station, Ambassador," he remarks to K'net-mauri. "There are large deposits of kelbonite ore in the area, which makes it difficult for us to scan what exactly is down there, but we have pinpointed the location of the energy emissions." The man can't help but smirk. "Undoubtedly, our comrades at the science directorate are excited over a dilithium deposit. At any rate, the area we'll be transporting you to is mountainous, with low scrub vegetation, and is rather pleasantly warm. Hopefully the natives won't give you too much trouble."

K'net-mauri eyes Trav irritably and doesn't comment. He does not like Trelab. There are few places he hates more, even. But he wouldn't want just any subcommander to wonder why, so he simply nods and replies, "Very well."

Jatila's gaze flicks from her Ambassador and the Subcommander toward the viewscreen. She retains her silence.

. o O Jatila thinks, "They better /not/ give us trouble. Especially the dangerous kind."

Kran'dok stands slightly off to the back, hands clasped comfortably behind his back as he does his job guarding the Ambassador and Adjutant, even aboard one of their own vessels.

Jolvan quietly stands behind the group listening to them and watches the screen

"Very well," Trav replies, tipping his head respectfully. "The transporter room has been prepared. Our duties do require us to leave the system to inspect the sensor relays near here, but we will return in no more than two hours after our departure from orbit." He clears his throat and offers an apologetic smile. "I will attempt to return before the scheduled time."

K'net-mauri grimaces. He gets to his feet, nodding, and replies, "We will see you then."

Jatila shifts heavily away from the wall she's leaning against, preparatory to moving. She glances toward Trav. "I don't suppose you've a disruptor to spare?"

. o O Kran'dok thinks, "Hardly an ideal or safe situation for the Ambassador. I will have to be extra careful."

Trav quirks an eyebrow. "Anything that you require will be provided in the transporter room," he replies to Jatila before he returns his gaze to the viewscreen. "Enjoy your walk in the sunshine."

Several moments later, four pillars of green transporter energy coalesce into the familiar figures of K'net-mauri, Jatila, Jolvan, and Kran'dok. Trav's report was accurate -- it's a pleasant day in the mountains, the sun high overhead and a rather balmy 78 degrees fahrenheit. Currently, they stand in a small valley, next to a rushing creek.

K'net-mauri looks around and scowls.

. o O K'net-mauri thinks, "Nice day. It's bound to get worse."

Jatila glances up, squinting at the sky. "Enjoy your walk," she mutters. "Anybody with a sense of humor like that should be shot." Shaking her head, she takes a glance around, then pulls out her tricorder. "Suppose we should look for those energy signals."

K'net-mauri glances at Jatila. "Indeed. No doubt that is the point."

GAME: Jatila contests her Personal Equipment/Tricorder vs Routine and Marginally Fails.

Kran'dok nods sypmathetically to Jatila. "Indeed. I wonder if he was making a jab at your condition or simply callouse." The guard loosens up a bit now that they are on the planet and carefully searches the horizon and immediate area. He subconciously reaches down to his medical kit, sliding the disruptor rifle out of the way so he can be sure both are present.

Jolvan forcefully shrugs his shoulder up to adjust the pack on his back and rechecks the power on the his rifle before letting it hang from his shoulder,"What direction?" he askes looking at the horizon

K'net-mauri casts a wry smile at Kran'dok, and then looks at Jatila's tricorder rather pointedly.

Jatila quirks an eyebrow, noting the Ambassador's scowl, then glances down at the screen of her tricorder... and does some scowling herself. "The ores around here are interfering with scanning. However, the source of the signal seems to be rather close." She sighs. "Though I wish it were closer. It's about a half kilometer off or less. Trying to narrow down direction."

K'net-mauri shrugs. "Half a kilometer is a pleasant walk. Given that we don't meet anybody."

GAME: Jatila contests her Personal Equipment/Tricorder vs Routine and Fails.

GAME: Kran'dok contests his Search vs Moderate and Dramatically Fails.

Jolvan glances at Jat and Smirks,"Half a kilometer? Any closer and we'd be standing on it."

Kran'dok pauses for a few moments in his search as he spots some especially lovely water off in the distance. The man stands there staring for some time, not able to put it out of his mind.

. o O Kran'dok feels a little sad and lonely, with an under current of pride and hope.

On the ridgeline, a pair of humanoids appear, headed downhill. One carries a large basket, the other just walks behind. They don't appear to have noticed the Romulans.

. o O Kran'dok thinks, "That water is the most beautiful color, it reminds me of Mirantha's eyes."

K'net-mauri catches sight of the pair and swears, softly, and quite vehemently.

Jatila glances up to eye both the Ambassador and Jolvan. "Remind me to put tacks in your shoes sometime," she comments, and goes back to scanning some more. A tiny admonitory smack is given the side of the tricorder, before she glances up at the swearing. "Oh, lovely."

GAME: Jatila contests her Personal Equipment/Tricorder vs Routine and Succeeds.

Jolvan instinctively crouches and heads for cover to determine the threat.

K'net-mauri, still cursing, moves behind one of the low bushes and crouches there. Not great cover, but it's something.

The pair of humanoids change course slightly, paying careful attention to their footing as they start to move down into the valley that the party is in. They appear to be heading for the end of the short ridge to the left, and still -- apparently -- haven't noticed that they're not alone.

Kran'dok sighs a little sadly and turns around to see what the others are doing. He is surprised that Jolvan seems to be taking so much care. The Uhlan's gaze drifts up until he sees just why that is. In an instant the guard snaps back to duty and makes his way towards the Ambassador and looking for some cover of his own.

Jatila hunkers down to follow the Ambassador, keeping her voice low as she points toward the ridge. "The signal's coming from that way, from about 350 meters off. Follow the ridge, then we take a left. All downhill, thank the Elements." She glances toward the natives, who are headed in the same direction. "Wonder if they're going there too. They'll have to come down from the ridge and pass through this valley to get there though."

K'net-mauri sighs. He says softly, "Let us proceed. If they come along after us, we will deal with it when it proves necessary."

Kran'dok looks over to Jatila and Jolvan as he lowers himself to his belly, crawling towards the edge of the bushes so he can see. "Should we take them out now?" he asks in a whisper. "I could wait until they are below the ridge, obscured from the view of others. No sense in just letting them wander around and make our mission difficult."

Jolvan nods to the ambassador,"We should wait till they get a few meters ahead of us before we follow." he looks back to Kran,"And if they are being expected by someone it could trigger a search."

K'net-mauri shakes his head to Kran'dok. "If they leave, they will not trouble us. If we stop them and someone comes looking for them, we will have more difficulty than is perhaps necessary."

. o O Kran'dok thinks, "Fine, they are right. I do hate to leave loose ends though where the Ambassador is concerned."

As the humanoids come closer, it becomes obvious that they're Trelans. "Is it your turn to carry the basket yet?" the male in the lead asks the slightly shorter female behind him. "It's heavy."

"Perhaps we should stop bringing him these gifts, Vrel," the female observes. "He doesn't seem to like them, and this is all from my garden. We might not be able to trade later."

"But we cannot allow him to starve, either," Vrel counters brightly. "Come now, Krina. Just around the end of the ridge."

. o O Jatila thinks, "He?"

K'net-mauri nods to Jolvan, silent now as he listens to the Trelan's conversation.

Jatila's eyebrows lift as she, too, listens, and she glances toward the Ambassador, mouthing, 'He?'.

K'net-mauri, silent, makes a face at Jatila, a look as if he's tasted something bitter.

Jolvan crouches behind the bushes disruptor on stun aimed at the Trelans. He follows them with the weapon hoping not to use it.

Kran'dok relaxes a little as he resolves to allow the pair to go about their business. He remains lying behind the bush where he was as he listens to their conversation and waits for them to pass further ahead.

Krina sighs rather heavily as she vanishes around the ridge Jatila indicated with Vrel. "It's all so... strange," she protests. "People just do not fall from the sky. Gods, perhaps, but not people." Whatever Vrel replies, however, is lost to the distance.

K'net-mauri straightens up when the pair passes, and starts to follow along.

Jatila gives K'net-mauri a long look, her eyes narrowing a bit, before pushing herself up awkwardly. She moves to follow, silently thoughtful.

. o O Jatila thinks, "He knows something. Damnation, but I wish he weren't so close-mouthed sometimes!"

Kran'dok quickly snaps to his feet, rifle in one hand, but lowered to his side as he makes to follow the Ambassador. The Uhlan takes one last look around to be sure there is on one else in sight.

Jolvan stands with rifle pointed down across his front and looks up the trail to see that there isn't anyone else coming down that way,"I think we just need to follow them." he whispers to the group

Once the group rounds the end of the ridge, it becomes quite clear what the source of the energy emissions is -- or rather, was. It's upside down, has hull breaches, is missing pieces that are certainly important (most notably, the starboard nacelle), but the raptor-shaped prow and distinctive green hull identifies it as a Romulan shuttle -- or the remains of one, at least. Judging by the furrows in the ground, it was travelling at a rather high rate of speed when it hit the ground, too.

The two Trelans stand approximately ten feet from the hatch, which is propped open slightly. "We have come to give you gifts," Vrel declares to the open hatch, apparently reluctant to move closer. "And to tend to your needs."

Krina adds, "Please come out to speak with us? We only wish to please you."

There's nothing but silence from the shuttle for a long moment before a voice calls, "Please, leave me be. I have much work to do." The owner of the voice sounds irritated, is most likely male, and is definitely speaking Romulan.

K'net-mauri listens to this, nods as if to himself, and begins to look around, seeking another place in this region of meagre cover. He murmurs, "Let is wait a short time, perhaps they will do as he asks and go."

Kran'dok looks over his shoulder to the Ambassador with a bit of confusion. "They sent you for this? So far it looks like a simple rescue or extraction." The guard looks around for a better position and ends up inching towards the ridge wall.

"Not with our luck," Jat mutters, but she puts her tricorder away. Still watching the shuttle remains, she wonders aloud, "Who is he, sir?"

K'net-mauri says softly, "I don't know."

Jolvan looks down at the shuttle and looks around for better cover,"We should get off the trail then. Way off. They will most likely come back this way if we are going to wait." he says quietly to the party.

"The village leaders would like to come speak with you, if you'll allow it," Vrel tries, apparently being rather persistant. "They come now, in fact. They sent us as their emissaries, as we were the ones who first met you."

"It's no use, Vrel," Krina whispers to the other Trelan. "He won't come out." They both seem disappointed.

"No, thank you," the Romulan voice replies. "I must finish my work, then rest. Return tomorrow."

Jatila hmmms softly at the Ambassador's answer, then turns her attention back to the villagers. An alarmed look starts to rise. "They come now?" she whispers. "They'll be swarming here."

K'net-mauri grimaces. He curses, rather creatively, but briefly. "If they are coming now, we had better not wait."

Kran'dok nods to the Ambassador then silently looks to Jolvan for how to proceed. The guard lifts his rifel so that he holds it with both hands, bending at the knees slightly, ready to move when needed.

. o O Jatila takes mental notes. The Ambassador's bursts of swearing are always something to remember for later use.

Jolvan raises his weapon not fully at the Trelans though that will only require the slightest movement,"Stun the two and grab the romulan?" Jolvan suggests.

K'net-mauri looks at Jolvan. "How would that help?" he asks, straightening up.

"They will approach within the hour," Vrel replies rather sadly. "They insisted on coming." The two Trelans look indecisive, as if they're trying to decide what to do next. The voice from the shuttle doesn't respond, however.

Jatila nods her agreement with the Ambassador, looking back toward the shuttle. "Our ride isn't due to return for at almost two hours, and..." She gestures at Vrel's comment, pushing on the ground to stand.

Kran'dok raises his weapon at Jolvan's words, aiming for one of the pair, but holds for the Ambassador. After a few moments he lowers the rifle to his hip and goes behind them to check around the ridge in the direction the pair of emissaries originally come from.

GAME: Kran'dok contests his Search vs Routine and Fails.

Jolvan drops the rifles barrel as the treat doesn't seem that imminate, and shrugs to tha ambassador,"Thought the natives would complicate things, sir. Thought it would be earier with them asleep."

K'net-mauri nods to Jolvan, and replies, "They will complicate things. But two of them won't complicate things nearly as much as a whole damn village of them. Are you having trouble staying alert?"

Jatila considers thoughtfully. "So. Shall we head down? They might assume we're from a different village, though. No telling what sort of relations they have with other villages. Or," she smirks, "We're gods too."

Jolvan is bows his head and looks back to cover the rear,"I was thinking speed, sir. Before that whole damn village got here."

Vrel turns as if to leave, but freezes. "Krina? There's more of them," he whispers to his companion. Apparently he's laid eyes upon the Romulans.

K'net-mauri laughs, unpleasantly. "Jolvan, if we can't leave for another hour and a half, how does that help? Do you want to try to hide from the village for that time?" He doesn't seem to expect an answer, but nods to Jatila and starts to walk down the slope.

Jatila moves to follow the Ambassador, straightening her spine to walk tall and proudly. Her gaze goes straight to the pair of villagers, in cool measuring.

Kran'dok finishes checking around the corner behind them. "All seems clear," he says to the Ambassador. "I see no signs of the villagers coming yet." He glances back towards the shuttle and pauses as they appear to be spotted.

. o O Jatila thinks, "Barana is going to /kill/ me if I get hurt."

The pair seem awed, and they both drop to their knees in a gesture of supplication. "W..we welcome you," Krina stammers. "Brave tr...travelers."

There's a brief mechanical wheezing, and then the hatch to the shuttle slides all the way open, revealing a Romulan male in a sublieutenant's uniform. He looks a bit harried, but other than that, he's the very model of a modern Star Navy officer. He looks like he's about to berate the Trelans, but then he looks up the hill and takes on a shocked expression. "Romulans?"

Jolvan stays at the top to watch the trail even going up alittle higher to see more of it if needed.

K'net-mauri looks at the Trelans irritably. "Did you say the people of your village were coming here?" he asks, a bit sharply.

. o O Veltor is shocked -- absolutely stunned at seeing a group of Romulans.

Jatila smiles faintly at the villagers' reaction, then turns a sharp gaze toward the unknown Romulan. "Uhlan," she comments, "Why don't you make sure our friend is alright, hmmm?" And her eyes turn back toward the villager.

"Y..yes," Vrel replies, keeping his eyes on the ground. "They should be here soon."

GAME: Jolvan contests his Search vs Routine and Fails.

Kran'dok lowers his rifle, letting it hang by the shoulder strap and quickly makes his way over to the man. "Yes sir," he says simply as he goes for his medical tricorder on the way. He addresses the Sublieutenant before even lifting the tricorder to him. "Jolan'tru sir. How are you feeling? May I scan you for injuries?"

Jolvan stands at the top of the ridge gazing back along the trail then retrieves his tricorder for a more thorough scan.

GAME: Kran'dok contests his Personal Equipment vs Moderate and Marginally Fails.

. o O Jatila allows herself some irritation.

. o O Jatila thinks, "Just make sure he doesn't do something stupid, Kran'dok."

GAME: Jolvan contests his Personal Equipment vs Moderate and Succeeds.

K'net-mauri studies Vrel with his hawkish eyes. He says, "Do you think you can detain them for three hours? I am sure you will find such an action to be of benefit to everyone involved."

Jatila allows her expression to warm, her smile almost kindly. Almost. "You have done well," she assures the natives. "And your patience is to be rewarded."

"I..I can try," Vrel replies quietly. "If that is your command." Krina just continues to cower.

The sublieutenant grins slightly at Kran'dok. "Of course. I am... relieved... to see actual Romulans again. I thought I'd never get off this horrible planet." The smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, however.

Jolvan moves at a careful but hurried pace down to the shuttle and to the ambassador,"Sir, ten natives are headed this way 1.5ks away. I would say 20 mins."

Kran'dok nods and raises his tricorder to get some readings from the man. "I am getting a little interference," he says slowly as he frowns. "You do appear to be in peak physical condition though sir. Everything feels alright?" He casts a glance over to the pair of proto-Romulans to check their positions before looking back to the Sublieutenant.

. o O Jatila thinks, "If he's relieved, I'm a human stripper."

K'net-mauri glances at Jolvan. He grimaces, looks back to the Trelans and says, "Run and stop them. It will be much better if they come here later."

Jatila nods and turns to stroll toward the shuttle itself, her keen eyes on the sublieutenant.

Vrel nods, and both of the Trelans get to their feet. "Of course. Your wish is our command," Krina replies as they turn back the way they came and beat a hasty retreat.

The sublieutenant, in the meantime, tips his head to Kran'dok. "Of course. I am Sublieutenant Veltor from the Exploration Command." As Jatila approaches the shuttle, he adds, "You may not wish to go in there. There's a problem with vermin here, and I was trying to exterminate them when you arrived."

Kran'dok turns slightly to glance at the parting pair of Trelans. "Oh, I was under the impression that they were the ones bothering you." He lowers his tricorder and puts it into it's pouch as he steps back to a more comfortable distance.

K'net-mauri lifts a brow at Veltor. "I imagine she'll manage. What were you exploring?" To Jatila he inquires, "Is this the source?"

Jolvan looks up at Sublt Veltor and listens to his conversation for a momement then turns back to K'net,"What do you want to do if they can't stop them?"

Jatila looks at Veltor for a moment, and brings out her tricorder again at the Ambassador's question. "I'll be bloody surprised if it isn't."

K'net-mauri nods to Jatila. "So will I." To Jolvan he says, "Suggestions?"

GAME: Jatila spends a courage point.

GAME: Jatila contests her Personal Equipment/Tricorder+A vs Impossible and Fails.

GAME: Jatila contests her Personal Equipment/Tricorder+A vs Difficult and Marginally Succeeds.

"I was trying to report back to my home base," Veltor replies to K'net-mauri. "The navigation system failed, and I found the closest planet to land on -- which, unfortunately, was here." To Kran'dok, he adds, "The place is crawling with vermin, Trelans included. It's been difficult to keep them out of the shuttle, they're here so often."

K'net-mauri smiles dryly at Veltor. "When was this?" he asks. "And how long have those two been coming?"

Kran'dok silently takes up a position near the shuttle, pulling out his normal tricorder to scan the craft.

GAME: Kran'dok contests his Personal Equipment vs Moderate and Marginally Fails.

. o O Kran'dok thinks, "There may yet be some one in there hiding, injured or dead. It is also worth confirming these reports of vermin."

Jatila swings the tricorder slowly back and forth over the shuttle, then her eyebrows rise at the results. As she passes by the Uhlan, tapping at the device, Jatila whispers to Kran'dok, "Keep a very sharp eye on Sublieutenant Veltor, Kran'dok." Reaching the Ambassador's side, she says politely, ''Definitely the source of the pulses. However...'' and shows him the screen of her tricorder.

K'net-mauri looks at Jatila's tricorder. He raises an eyebrow, the expression a bit dour, and then nods to her, quite calm.

"Every day for the last five weeks, sometimes for hours on end. I rarely get a moment of peace to myself," Veltor replies with no small hint of irritation. "They were here soon after I crashed, and it seems like every second thereafter. I'm... tired." His face flickers, a brief shadow crossing across it as Jatila approaches K'net-mauri.

Jolvan rubs the back of his neck while he thinks he looks down at the rifle at his side a descides against that suggestion,"I could run ahead and set a communicator or a tricorder to emmit an sound so loud that they wouldn't want to come through it." though the suggestion is lacking full confidence.

"I was stuck here for about two days once, myself," remarks K'net-mauri conversationally. "I'd just as soon the entire world was seared from space."

Kran'dok does not even nod, as she passes. After a few moments of fruitless scanning, the man nods with satisfaction and puts his tricorder away. "The shuttle seems intact Madam Adjutant. It should be safe." He looks around idly, seeming to relax as he rests his hand on handle of his rifle, appearing to use it as an arm rest.

GAME: Jatila contests her Intellect/Perception vs Challenging and Fails.

GAME: K'net-mauri contests his Intellect/Perception vs Challenging and Fails.

GAME: Kran'dok contests his Intellect/Perception vs Challenging and Fails.

GAME: Jolvan contests his Intellect/Perception vs Challenging and Fails.

"Thank you, Uhlan," Jat says amiably. And heads firmly for the shuttle interior itself.

. o O Jatila thinks, "Good man, Kran'dok."

Veltor rubs the back of his neck, watching Jatila's progress toward the shuttle. "If you should see one of the the large blue insects? Don't let it get near you, they're quite toxic." He nods to K'net-mauri. "I would tend to agree with you, sir. They're extremely... irritating." He seems to be rapidly losing energy, looking more tired by the second.

K'net-mauri tilts his head slightly to one side, regarding Veltor. "You may as well rest," he suggests. "I take it progress on your navigational system has not been good?"

"I'll keep that in mind," Jat comments, disappearing inside the shuttle.

. o O Jatila thinks, "I'll probably get a craving for large blue insects now. Gah."

GAME: Jatila contests her Personal Equipment/Tricorder vs Challenging and Succeeds.

Kran'dok slowly wanders between the shuttle door and the Sublieutenant as he looks around at the scenery and idly gazes at the shuttle's damage. "Quite the crash," he remarks. "Good to walk away from it."

Jolvan stays close to the group but looks up the hill in the direction of the trail every so often.

GAME: K'net-mauri contests his Intellect/Perception vs Moderate and Marginally Fails.

GAME: Kran'dok contests his Intellect/Perception vs Challenging and Fails.

GAME: Kran'dok contests his Intellect/Perception vs Moderate and Succeeds.

K'net-mauri stares at Veltor, scowling now. He looks puzzled, and as if being puzzled makes him angry.

. o O Jatila thinks, "What the...?" Her ire rises, nearly to fury. "I'll /rend/ him!"

Veltor settles heavily next to the shuttle. "I very nearly did not walk away from it," he replies tiredly. "And the navigational system is a hopeless pile of trash. There's no way to repair it now. Which is why I sent my distress signal by alternating the energy output through the communications array."

K'net-mauri says, "Did anyone scan this man?"

Kran'dok watches the Sublieutenant for a while, giving the man a slightly quizical look. "Excuse me sir, who was your commanding officer? I think we should send off a report to him or her right away." He turns a concerned gaze towards the Ambassador and readies himself just a bit more.

Jatila appears again at the door of the shuttle, and /stalks/ from it. She casts a look sideways toward Veltor as she passes him, a very cold look indeed. ''Sir,'' she addresses the Ambassador. Nearing K'net-mauri, Jatila whispers to K'net-mauri, "He has a ream of paper inside. Very old paper, around 2000 years old. About the same age as the Tellus parchment that Horta brought to the station, hmmm?"

Jolvan thinks outloud,"What would an Exploration command ship be doing along the neutral zone. That is left to the /real/ fleets."

Veltor sags against the hull of the shuttle. "Admiral Tomalak is my commanding officer," he replies, almost gasping for breath now.

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

GAME: Kran'dok contests his Intellect/Perception vs Routine and Dramatically Fails.

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

Kran'dok turns his attention away from the Sublieutenant, not really hearing his answer, as he glances back towards the shuttle. The Uhlan squints a little bit as he spots something on the console. "A book? Must be some rather boring exploration," he says abscentmindedly.

GAME: K'net-mauri contests his Intellect/Perception vs Routine and Succeeds.

K'net-mauri lifts a brow at Jatila. "I see," he says softly. "How nice." He glances at Veltor, lifts a brow at him again, and smiles. "Dear old fish-face. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you."

GAME: Jatila spends a courage point.

GAME: Jatila contests her Personal Equipment/Tricorder+A vs Challenging and Marginally Fails.

Jolvan glances down at Veltors feet then looks at the Romulans face,"What's wrong with you pants, Sublieutenant?" he shoots another glance up the trail.

Jatila's eyes narrow on Veltor, even as she turns to face him. A brief glance down, fingers moving subtly on her tricorder, then up again... and she starts to edge sideways slightly, protectively, in front of the Ambassador... and then Jolvan speaks. She doesn't bother taking the time to groan at his words. "Cover him," she snaps toward Kran'dok with a frantic gesture of her tricorder toward Veltor. "Founder!"

K'net-mauri nods, probably to Jatila, but he doesn't look away from Veltor. "It seems to be sick," he remarks.

"I would... suppose... so..." Veltor whispers before his eyes slide closed. "My apologies, but I... must... rest." It'd be obvious to a blind man at this point that there's something very, very odd about this sublieutenant, and then it becomes clear what, exactly -- a golden ripple starts at his feet, then overtakes his whole body, and 'Veltor' loses his shape and becomes a puddle of golden fluid.

It's at this moment that two Trelan heads appear at the top of the ridge, peering down at the scene below. "They don't want us to come!" calls a frustrated voice from behind the pair. "We must GO BACK!"

K'net-mauri looks at the puddle and sighs. He says, "I wish he'd done that in a container." He looks up at the sound of the shouting, and starts to swear again, tiredly, irritably, and at some length.

Kran'dok's hand quickly grasps the handle of his rifle. He had nearly forgotten it was resting there as he noticed the book. Silently cursing himself the Romulan moves to interpose himself between the Ambassador and the rapidly deteriorating Romulan like substance. The Uhlan covers the goo with his rifle, no ttaking any chances.

Jolvan brings is rifle up to coverthe changling but quickly turns to cover the Trelans as he hears the voices,"Damn."

There's a brief moment of muttered arguing up at the top of the ridge, and then the Trelans start making their way down. "We come with open hands!" one calls. Meanwhile, up at the top, Vrel and Krina appear. "No, stop! Come back!"

Jatila looks up and toward the ridge. "Oh, of course," she says disgustedly, and looks back toward the puddling Romulan. "Something odd there. But, this is probably not the time to discuss it." Oddly, perhaps, she casts glances toward Jolvan and Kran'dok as she says that, before looking back toward the Ambassador. "Kran'dok, there's a crate in the shuttle," she says hurriedly. "Full of paper. Empty it, and try to get /that/ into it!"

The Changeling, in the meantime, just puddles. It's not being threatening in the least.

Kran'dok nods to the Adjutant. "Yes sir," he says, already in motion and still holding his rifle at his hip. He ducks in to the shuttle taking a careful look around for the crate before he hurridly empties it and emerges a short time later. "Where would you like to ship it?"

GAME: Kran'dok contests his Intellect/Perception vs Moderate and Marginally Succeeds.

Jolvan shouts up at the villager,"Stay back!"

K'net-mauri sighs, "I don't think we can pick it up without a transporter," he says. He looks towards the decending villagers, shakes his head.

Jatila grimaces. "Well. Obviously their 'god' has ascended. They'll have to settle for us."

"We only wish to serve you," the villager on the left calls, holding up his hands. "Please, do not send us away." They do pause, however.

GAME: Kran'dok contests his Intellect/Perception+A vs Routine and Succeeds.

. o O Jatila thinks, "Oh, you'll serve us, when the time is ripe. WHy can't you just go away for now?"

Jolvan shakes his head at the villagers,"Come back tomarrow. All will be revealed tomarrow. For Tomarrow will be the holy day." grimaces as he feels its against his traing to impersonate a deity and he is not sure it will work.

"I wonder if he did anything special," says K'net-mauri to Jatila. He looks over at the calling villager. "If you wish to serve me," he suggests, more loudly, "Bring me twenty kilograms of refined iron, seven quartz crystals each at least five centemetres in length, and a hard boiled egg." A pause. "Tomorrow."

Kran'dok sets the crate on the ground. "The papers in the shuttle may be important. I would hate to leave them behind. Where a founder may not talk, a report will." He ducks back in the shuttle and begins to sort through the papers. Seemingly satisfied, he neatly stacks the sheets as best he can, slipping some in to his tunic and others he carries in his hand. When the man emerges again, he is carrying an armload of paper, leaving his rifle slung at his side.

Jatila gestures slightly, nodding toward Kran'dok. "Fine. We'll take them with us." She turns back.. and her Romulan cohorts may very well recognize her expression- it's the one she uses when highly amused at idiot Starfleeters, and trying to hide the fact that she's amused. Glancing back and forth between K'net-mauri and Jolvan, she nods toward the Ambassador. "Perhaps." A rather vague statement.

"Yes, of course," the leader replies, starting to back away. "We will, of course, do that." The Trelans turn to leave, starting back up the hill when suddenly there's a new sound: an energy weapon fires and cuts down their leader.

Three seconds after this, a squad of five Jem'Hadar unshroud, weapons raised and trained on the Romulans.

"SURRENDER, OR YOU WILL ALL BE KILLED!" the largest Jem'Hadar calls out in a tone that indicates he's certainly not joking -- not that Jem'Hadar are known for their humor in the first place.

. o O Jatila thinks, "Oh @#$^&"

Kran'dok looks towards the Ambassador, knowing that he is busy speaking, but not caring. "Ambassador. I ...." he trails off, excitement ended. "Get to the shuttle sir," the Uhlan says as he tries to go for his disruptor pistol, still holding many of the papers.

Jolvan is just about to comply with the Jem'Hadar's order before an evil grin come across his face,"Uhlan If one of the buggers moves an milimeter fry that puddle of goo." Jolvan's voice is raised so the Jem Hadar can hear.

That was unexpected. K'net-mauri startles at the appearance of the Jem'hadar, turning abruptly to look at them and drawing back with the sort of hissy-pissy sharp expression a hawk gets when you frighten it. He settles back down almost immediately and steps sideways toward Kran'dok, and better under the sort of cover the Ulhan and his rifle might throw. He calls back, "Surrender what? You're master? Take him. As for this craft, shall we talk about it?"

Jatila's gaze snaps toward the Jem'hadar. Okay, call her a coward. Or call her a pregnant woman trying to protect her child. But she steps back swiftly, and sideways, to sidle behind Kran'dok. "Give me those!" she hisses, grabbing for the papers.

"Ambassador Va'raeh, we care nothing for your shuttle," comes a silky voice from the hillside opposite the Trelans, where a male Vorta (who, for those who have watched earlier episodes, would be recognized as Karntor from Sigma Iotia II) has apparently appeared from thin air. "Nor for its contents. We only wish to secure the return of the Founder to his home. We have no quarrel with you or your people, and wish only for peaceful coexistance." He pauses. "Of course, if you should harm the Founder, I cannot vouch for your safety. The Jem'Hadar are rather... /touchy/... about such things."

. o O Kran'dok thinks, "Well that saves me the trouble of handing her the papers, but I was afraid it would decrease her chances of survival."

. o O Karntor is extremely worried about the Founder's safety.

"I had heard that," replies K'net-mauri, bland and calm now. He looks at the Vorta. "Perhaps you'll be so kind as to explain what has happened here, it being the case that you have no quarrel with me or my people?" He glances at the puddle of golden goo.

Kran'dok quickly hands the woman the papers, both gladly and reluctantly. "I still have the best one," he says quietly as he reaches for his rifle, replacing his pistol. He slowly levels the weapon on the puddle and waits for the Ambassador to finish his duel with the Vorta.

Jatila sucks in a deep breath, and hugs the papers to herself, as she stares at the Dominion minions.

. o O Jatila thinks, "Please, please, let us get away safely. I swear I will share this with the Allies, just let us get AWAY."

Karntor makes his way down the hillside. "We were, of course, aware of the theft of certain sensitive documents from your central archives," he replies soflty. "Being concerned for our neighbors, we launched a search for the responsible parties at once. Once we captured the brigand, the Founders, in their infinite wisdom, decided that what this vile criminal had taken should be returned to you at once, and the Founder you see here took the mission personally upon himself. Apparently his vessel encountered difficulties and crashed here, and we have just arrived to rescue him." There's a pause, and then a rather predatory smile. "So, neighbor to neighbor -- friend to friend -- let us end this amicably. You have what we want, we have what you want, and there's no need for violence."

The Jem'Hadar don't flinch, of course, keeping the entire party under the aim of the business end of their weapons. In fact, when Kran'dok draws his pistol, the aim becomes even more unwavering.

"You may wish to put your disruptor away," the Vorta advises. "Like I said, the Jem'Hadar are touchy, and there are no stun settings on their weapons."

Jatila blinks, and leans back a little to consider the papers in her arms, reading swiftly.

GAME: Jatila contests her Intellect/Perception+A vs Routine and Succeeds.

K'net-mauri reaches out and gently, slowly, pushes the barrel of Kran'dok's rifle away from the Founder. He looks at the Vorta thoughtfully. "Indeed?" he says. "How courteous of him. I can't imagine why he would not leave such a small task to one such as yourself."

Kran'dok allows his weapon to be loweres, but maintains his position and holds the weapon, ready to be raised again.

. o O Jatila moans, "Sweet Elements..."

Jatila's lips start to move as she reads, then her jaw drops a little, her eyes widening, and her arms tremble a little, their hold suddenly very, very gentle.

Jolvan watches the Jem Hadar his weapon low but his hands still remain on the handle and barrel.

"The Founders are a peaceful people, Ambassador," Karntor replies, dipping his head slightly. "It was considered far too delicate a matter to leave in the hands of someone such as myself, as the return of such important historical documents to your people could help repair the unfortunate rift between the Romulan Star Empire and the Dominion. The Founders had hoped that such a gesture on our part could lead to the normalization of relations." He glances around, then adds, as if disappointed, "I see we have a long way to go."

The Jem'Hadar don't relax as the weapons are lowered, keeping theirs aimed squarely at heads.

K'net-mauri smiles faintly at Karntor. "I do not like being pounced upon by armed people, or made demands of on pain of death," he says. "And so perhaps indeed it was too delicate a matter to be left in the hands of someone like you. In any case, as I have said, I yeild this being," he indicates the puddle, "To you, under the condition that you stop pointing weapons at me and collect him with some semblance of civility."

The corners of Kran'dok's mouth turn up in a slight sneer as he sees the Jem'Hadar apparently have no intention of relaxing. He maintains his position as the Ambassador speaks, waiting for the next move.

Jatila shifts to move aside. "Kran'dok," she says in a low voice. "Move off. Give them room." She settles into her usual 'public' stance, a bit behind and to the side of the Ambassador.

Kran'dok nods slowly and does as instructed, not saying anything as he has not been instructed to. He moves back to a position that seems relatively close to where Jatila would have intended.

Karntor gestures at the Jem'Hadar, and as a unit, they lower their weapons. "Thank you, Ambassador," the Vorta replies as two more Jem'Hadar unshroud, carrying what is effectively a large bucket. "I knew that you were a man of reason." He gestures once more, and the two Jem'Hadar move forward and kneel, reverently allowing the Changeling to slowly flow into the container they have for him.

"Hopefully this will open a new era of peaceful relations between the Star Empire and the Dominion," Karntor adds as the operation proceeds.

. o O Jatila considers spitefully, "Not if I have anything to say about it."

K'net-mauri smiles at that, wryly. "I am sure if you wish to discuss that, you know where I am usually to be found. Are you aware of what trouble he may have encountered to land him here?"

Jatila remains silent, watching the ironic retrieval operation.

Jolvan looks up at the Trelans and wonders what they must be thinking

Kran'dok looks around carefully, wishing he did not have to remain at the ready.

. o O Kran'dok thinks, "We need to get the flight logs for this shuttle. If only I could get to my PADD."

. o O Kran'dok feels nervous, anxious and very excited.

"Unfortunately, his message did not say," Karntor replies as the Jem'Hadar finish their recovery, stepping back to stand with the squad of armed troops. "When he has fully regenerated, perhaps he will allow me to learn the tale. Thank you once again, Ambassador Va'raeh."

With another ingratiating smile, the Vorta nods, then taps his wrist -- and they all vanish in a transporter beam, Founder-in-a-bucket included. All that remains are the Romulans, the shuttle, and the mourning Trelans, standing over their fallen comrade and weeping rather loudly.

Kran'dok sighs a little, only slightly relieved. "Ambassador. I would like to see if we can get the flight logs from this shuttle." He glances over at the Trelans for just a moment. "I could also see if there is anything that could be done for that one if you would like."

K'net-mauri looks at the Trelans and snarls, "Carry him away and come back /tomorrow/, you fools! You think I sent you away for nothing?!" then, more quietly, to Jatila, "What is it?" Kran'dok gets a nod, "I was about to tell you to do just that."

Jatila, finally letting herself shake a bit, looks toward the Ambassador. "These are Tellus' writings. His true writings." She relaxes her arms enough to let the face of the topmost paper fall away from her breast. (In the old fashioned terminology). "His notes. His handwritten notes..." She's in awe.

Kran'dok lowers his rifle and carefully extracts a parchment from his tunic where it had been tucked safely. "Take this Jatila," he says as he hands the woman an original D'era. I did not want to drop it before. The Romulan pulls out his PADD and goes in to the shuttle to see what he can do with the computer.

Jolvan looks around half expecting someone to appear telling him that resistance is futile when he turns to Jatila at her words and looks with revence.

Jatila nods, still stunned, as she carefully takes the parchment from Kran'dok. "His speech. When they landed on Romulus," she continues, and can go no further, swallowing a lump in her throat.

The Trelans pick up their dead, and slowly carry him away, moving over the ridge -- and out of sight.

"That's nice," says K'net-mauri tiredly. "Don't smudge it, then."

Jatila looks toward the Ambassador, and blushes, then looks toward the military men to say softly, "Secure the shuttle, please, for our return to the ship."

GAME: Kran'dok spends a courage point.

GAME: Kran'dok contests his Computer+A vs Difficult and Marginally Succeeds.

Kran'dok places himself at one of the consoles to see what he can do. He attempts to get the computer in the ship working, then talking with his PADD. The Uhlan has to issue a few non-standard repairs with his fist before the lights on the console remain on long enough to get any good information.

K'net-mauri smiles wearily at Jatila and looks at the shuttle's damaged nacelle. He says, "Package it up safely however you can, for now, and we shall return it to the archive."

Jolvan stands by the door of the shuttle,"SO they got caught stealing the thing and they act like they did us a favor can't wait till we beat them back to their own quandrant again."

Jatila nods and moves off toward the shuttle. "Jolvan..." She stops her own words, shaking her head, and proceeds in carrying out the Ambassador's order.

Kran'dok skims the data as he transfers it. "The logs seem to corroborate the Vorta's story. The ship was indeed traveling from Sigma Iotia II to Romulan space." He works at the computer a bit more. "I could use just a little more though. We need to know if they intended to return them or give them to another party."

GAME: Kran'dok contests his Computer+A vs Difficult and Fails.

Jatila gives Kran'dok a bit of an odd look as she works to safely stow the papers. "Uhlan. It was a ruse. They had to steal these to make the Horta's parchment seem authentic. A poor attempt, of course, but I daresay they cared not how these may have been disposed." Her task done, she moves outside of the shuttle once more, and settles wearily onto a handy rock.

K'net-mauri glances towards where Kran'dok's voice is emerging from the shuttle. He says, "We'll see what other evidence this wreck can yeild on the matter. And the engagement records." He's still looking at that damaged nacelle.

Jolvan follows Jatila like she was Praetor and he was a Praetorian guard and says nothing.

K'net-mauri's communicator beeps, and the voice of Subcommander Trav emerges. "Vhorani to landing party, we've managed to return early. Have you enjoyed your walk in the sunshine, Ambassador?"

. o O Jatila laughs wryly. "About as much as a walk on red hot lava, Subcommander!"

. o O Jatila's thoughts bother her, worming their way up. "Is the NFA involved with this? Is there an agreement between them and the Dominion?"

K'net-mauri makes a very irritable groaning sound in response to that hail, before tapping the communicator to answer it. "Nice weather, but I wouldn't go nearly /that/ far, Subcommander," he says. "We will want a team to remove and analyze the wreck that is here."

Jatila mumbles, "We should leave the natives something. A sign of approval from their gods." A quiet, sharp laugh, and she tears her false hair from her head and tosses it onto the plain.

"Yes, sir," Trav responds, and one can almost hear the smile in his voice. "We'll beam you up, then send the team down. Vhorani out."

The view slowly closes in on one of the parchment pieces that Jatila holds securely in her arms, moving in to focus on the text.

'For one hundred and five years we have travelled the endless void, banished from the warmth and light of our ancient home. Whole generations of children have been born who have never felt the heat of Ket-cheleb, nor looked upon the majesty of Shir'kahr as the primaries sink behind the hills.

I am old -- older than any warrior deserves to be. The cold seeps into my bones -- the cold of darkness, decay, and death. But death does not, cannot come for me. These people look to me for guidance, for assurance, for the strength to hold them unified as one.

Even now, Debrune agitates for change. We have passed so many worlds in our search for a place to call our own, where we can continue the traditions of the Vhorani. Many of them have been paradise compared to the world we left, and yet, we have settled none of them.

Debrune wishes to know why. He has followed me faithfully this far, but he cannot believe that we do not settle a place of our own.

I tell him that it is not yet time, but I know the truth in my heart.

D'era is the true way.

It will sustain us through the dark void of space. It will nourish us when we find our home.

It will make our people strong again.

I will speak with Debrune in the morning. I will give him and his followers leave to do as they will, to make their destiny in the stars. They do not wish to reclaim our Vhorani heritage, whether it be through impatience or weakness, I do not know.

I pray that I will once again elude death's grasp, as I have each night since I took my leave of our breathren. I will see my people find their destiny. Rom'laas awaits!

On the eighty-seventh day of the one hundred and fifth year of our exile,

Tellus'

The transporter claims the party then, pulling them away from Trelab and back into the stars that Tellus intended as his people's destiny.