Away Mission, Day 3

Rai sat on the bridge as the Hippolyta navigated through the treacherous territories of the badlands. They carefully passed through a plasma storm, which made the vessel shudder despite the raised shields.
"Lieutenant Inabnet, what's our heading?"

The plasma storm was exactly what T'Pren needed, even if the rest of the crew wasn't enjoying it. Guiding the ship through it as smoothly as possible required attention that left little room for worrying about what the future might hold and she'd been flying ships since around the time she started picking out her own clothing. The ship may have been shuddering, but it could definitely have been worse.

"112-mark-058, sir," she replied after a glance. A patch opened up in the storm and she maneuvered into it. "Make that 120-mark-058."

Rai leaned to his right and rested his chin on his fist. "What's our ETA to our destination coordinates? Within a few hours, correct?"

After another glance down at the part of the console that contained such information, T'Pren reported, "Three hours, twenty-eight minutes, sir. Less if we can punch through this interference."

"Take your time and keep her steady Lieutenant," he said. "We'll be there soon enough." The ship shook gently. "What's our shield percentage?"

"Try adjusting the shield harmonics - that may make this a smoother ride," she told an ensign at the helm.

Tal'Ara sat with her legs crossed, to the right of the Captain, counting silently in her head.

At Tal'Ara's suggestion, T'Pren rankled a little silently, but said nothing to contradict her senior officer. Instead, she adjusted her method of flying the storm to suit the ensign's adjustments and concentrated on the task at hand rather than on her pride or her irritation.

"Shields at 95%, Captain, and holding steady for now."

Rai stayed on the bridge for the next few hours, quietly directing the steady hands of Inabnet and the other bridge crew through the turbulent storm. When they arrived at the Cardassian prison planet, he had Pren run a scan.

Watching the hours ticking by would have been excruciating if it weren't for the storm. Thankfully, T'Pren's attention was on handling the ship. When they arrived at the planet, she let go of the controls for the first time since the storm began, stretching her fingers and pushing her hair out of her face before pressing the appropriate buttons for the scans.

Rai could probably feel her anxiety steadily increasing now that she had nothing to distract her, but she was fighting it nobly.

"750 prisoners, sir," she reported, "And 100 Cardassians. The temperature is approximately 39 degrees Celsius. Moderate winds and sunny."

"Open a channel," he said. "This is Captain Darren Rai of the USS Hippolyta. I understand that your base currently holds 750 prisoners, the majority of whom are Federation citizens. This is a violation of the peace accord between the Federation, it's allies, and Cardassia. Please prepare to have all prisoners released into Federation custody." He hoped that the authority in his voice would be enough to have them relinquished without bloodshed.
"This is Legate Loran," a gruff disembodied voice answered through the channel. "I've received no authorization from the Council regarding their release. Until I receive orders, these prisoners will stay on the planet."
Rai sighed. "That's very disappointing, Loran," he said. "Because I have received authorization from Starfleet to use force to have those prisoners returned. There's no need for violence. You can make this very easy for both of us," he said.
"We both know what you're risking, Captain. Are you sure they're worth it?"
"More than you know," he said.
"Suit yourself, Captain Rai," said Loran.
"I suppose I'll be seeing you soon, Legate. End transmission."

At some point in the conversation, T'Pren's anxiety leveled off. It was high, but she wasn't panicking. She was, perhaps because so many people's survival depended on it, managing to keep it in check. But as it seemed particularly clear that violence was coming, her heart began to hum painfully against her lower ribs.

With nothing left to do with her hands, she folded them in her lap, clasping them together to give them something to hold onto. And as the transmission ended, she turned green eyes that were wide despite her best efforts to keep her expression neutral to settle them on the Captain, waiting for orders. Or guidance. Or a miracle. Or something.

"We can take them back by force, as we originally planned. Commander Tal'Ara, what are our other options?" He glanced sideways at the Romulan woman, who was calculating as deeply as he was.

Tal'Ara took a moment.

"Beaming the hostages out will be impossible without a more specific lock. And I think we would all like to avoid heavy combat, if at all possible. I suggest we send an empty shuttle craft, on auto-pilot, towards the prison area. With some clever programing, we can probably make it look like the craft is occupied. Once the ship is en-route, we drop into cloak - they wont be expecting that - then maneuver the ship to the other side of the planet. In their confusion, they will have no options but to focus on intercepting the shuttle - which we should rig with and EMP. The shuttle should make it to the prison camp, albiet barely. When it gets near enough, we trigger the EMP. Then, we send two shuttle crafts from the other side of the planet, armed with our ground units. They fly in the cloud cover until they are within a reasonable distance from the prison. The ground troops should be able to make it to the prison undetected, due to their power shortage. The surprise will give us an advantage. Once the prisoners are recovered, we can set up a transport beacon, and get them all up as fast as possible. We will only have to break cloak during the transportation sequence. Once it is over, drop back in to cloak, and we can get the hell out of here."

She finished talking and looked for approval from the Captain.

"Make it happen. Send a shuttlecraft and prepare the ground units. Lieutenant Inabnet, you'll arrange the transport beacon. I'm going in," he said.

"Sir, I must object," she said sternly. "You are the Captain. Your place is on the bridge. Besides, I have been drilling the ground units for the last few days."

"I suppose your right. I'm sure you can handle this, Commander," he said. "I'll stay aboard and hopefully compel them to reason."

For a moment T'Pren thought Rai was telling her she's be staying on the ship, but then it clicked just what he was asking her to do, she gave a "Yes, sir," that was slightly softer than she meant it. But the gratitude that radiated at the Captain was practically palpable to non-empaths.

"I wouldn't bother negotiating. As soon as the shuttle craft leaves the docking bay, you should jam communications and immediately go in to cloak. The sudden action will cause confusion, and buy time for the shuttle craft to breach the atmosphere. We only need to get it within a few kilometers for the EMP to do its job."

"Well then, Commander. It's time for you to do what you do best. Take it planetside. I'll deploy the shuttlecraft and raise cloak. Lieutenant, go with the Commander," he said.

"Aye, sir," she said.

She headed towards the turbo lift, motioning T'Pren to come along with her.

There was a sudden rise in T'Pren's anxiety and terror at the idea of going through this ordeal with neither Akhil nor Rai by her side, with, in fact, a former Tal Shiar agent in charge of a mission that may mean the rescue of her fathers...and then the half-Vulcan took a breath and gained control, compartmentalizing and containing her emotions the way she seemed to always do when faced with an actual crisis.

She stood and straightened her uniform, disentangling herself from her station chair.

"Captain," she offered by way of goodbye and thanks and good luck, confident that he would receive all of what she meant. And then, tight French braid keeping her hair from her face and her ears exposed, she followed Tal'Ara onto the lift.