The Mercy beamed down clothes and currency, both paper and coin, a casual suit for Sorek and a hat to cover his ears, and dresses for Cordon and Crawford.  They found separate areas to change, and Sorek was ready and waiting for the ladies.

Crawford was not happy with her dress.  She wasn’t sure the chief was going to be either.  Carolyn preferred pants and a shirt any day of the week.  She took a few deep breaths and reminded herself that they were going into a time and a place well outside of their own.  Whatever world they were about to step into, it wouldn’t resemble 2400 in the least – both in dress code and culture.  She worked on the dress, and after a frustrating ten minutes, she figured it out and stomped back into the main area, glaring at everything except for Commander Sorek.  It was unwise to glare at a Vulcan.

“God, I hate dresses.”

Neva came out of the room she’d been given to change in, patting back down the errant curl sticking out from under the hair ribbon she wore. Swishing her hips a little to flare out the long skirt, she smiled at her Assistant Chief.  “Yeah, they aren’t for everyone.”  She walked up to the woman and plucked up the corners of her shirt on her shoulders she shuffled it back & forth a sec.  She smiled a little brighter and as she stepped back she murmured, “Calm down, Carolyn.  That dress won’t kill you.”

She chuckled dryly.  “You haven’t met my family, Chief Cordon.  Dresses can and will kill.  I’ll do my best to carry on.”

Neva lifted an eyebrow and smirked.  “Oh, really?”  She asked, dripping sarcasm.  “Sounds like there’s a story in that.”  Cocking her head, the smirk got bigger.  “Once we get back, Crawford, we need to trade family horror stories.  I’ll bring the wine.”

Neva inclined her head to the Assistant Chief in dismissal and pulled her PADD from the pouch she always carried.  Apparently, that item wouldn’t stand out.  She tapped out a couple of things and then returned it to its place.  She then pulled her tricorder from another pouch and checked it before returning it to its place.

The Chief Engineer looked at her XO and nodded.  “Ready when you are, sir.”

Sorek took a moment to study the two women.  He almost displayed the tiniest crack of a smile.  Almost.

“Now that we are ready, please remember the importance of this mission and do your best to remain in character,” said Sorek.  “Halandria women do not have the same rights or status as men.  Do not question or contradict me in the presence of others.  Be in deference to me.  Our cover will be that I am going to propose marriage to Chief Cordon, while Ms. Crawford is my sister.”

Neva’s eyes widened in surprise, mouth pursing into a flat line instead of the fish open one she wanted to show. “You…y-” slipped out before she caught it again. It took a couple of minutes for the shock to wear down some, but Neva managed it. With a long sigh through her nose, she looked up at the Vulcan. “While that’s going to be an interesting ‘relationship,’ to be sure, what do I call you as my fiancée?”

Neva looked over at Crawford a moment before her eyes went wider and a grin spread across her face. She turned back to her Commanding Officer. “If I pick up anything, like a lie or something like it, I’ll reach over and subtly rub your arm. I think that should be in the realm of what a woman is allowed.” She made air quotes for the last word. 

Crawford was still trying to accept that she was going to play Commander Sorek’s sister.  Her first thought was, ‘What kinda family birthed him and me?’ and she nearly laughed out loud at the concept.  She reigned in her humor and breathed slowly to gain control once more.  “I’m all for playing dress-up.  Excelled in drama club over the years.”  She glanced at Sorek, “Brother of my blood, lead us on into the wilderness!”

Sorek expected surprised reactions, but he didn’t comment.  “The temperature is hot, so try not to overexert yourselves.”  He paused.  “Anything else before we leave?”

After several seconds, no one said anything.

“All right, let’s go,” said Sorek.