The first step of the plan was easier to accomplish than you had anticipated. It was your first time actually using any of the moves from the physical training classes (which everyone at the Academy was more or less forced to take), but much to your surprise, it worked exactly as advertised. The male Romulan slumped to the ground, unconscious. Spock, who had taken up a position on the other side of the door, achieved the same result with the female – although he used one of those Vulcan nerve-tricks that you'd heard about rather than his fist.
"Great," you murmured, stepping over your own victim to kneel over the female. "I'll take her uniform. You should fit in his, and . . ." You trailed off, noticing something you hadn't considered before. "Oh, hell. It would be a skirt, wouldn't it?"
"Female officers on Romulan ships have that option," Spock agreed. "This one seems to have selected it."
"Ugh." Oh, well. You didn't have any other choice at the moment.
Ordinarily, you would have felt wrong taking off an unconscious person's clothes, but you barely spent a moment on the thought. Your mind was more occupied with the fact that you'd have to change your clothes in the same room as another person, something you hadn't done since you were less than five. You didn't think you'd ever dressed yourself so quickly in your entire life. The Romulan uniform was simple enough to figure out, even with the stupid skirt, and you ruefully tugged the hem downward as you turned back to face Spock.
Oh – great job, (Y/N). Spock was still dressing, and as of right then, he had not managed to pull the shirt on yet. Was it some sort of regulation violation to impulsively stare at your superior officer's chest? After several mental slaps in the face, you noticed that he was giving you something of a wide-eyed look; something in his human half probably didn't want to be watched while half-naked. Well, who would? What was wrong with you?! Pretending not to notice anything and sternly refusing to let your eyes wander back to his chest, you turned again and examined the still-unconscious female Romulan.
"My ears don't match the uniform," you commented mildly, hoping to anything that your face wasn't as red as it felt.
"Perhaps if you rearranged your hair," Spock suggested, and you detected a slightly tense tone to his words, which just made you want to bang your head against the wall even more.
"Right," you agreed, contemplating the Romulan woman. She was presently sprawled on her back, with her hair falling away from her ears, but if she had been standing normally, it probably would have concealed them nicely. "Do you have a brush, then, or maybe a comb that I can borrow?"
"There is one on the stand to your left."
You strode over to the stand and, without looking around in case he was still shirtless, you managed to force your hair into some fashion similar to the Romulan's, taking extra care to hide your very human ears. Hopefully, no one would notice that your eyebrows curved rather than slanted; you couldn't do anything about that right now.
"There," you said finally, replacing the comb on his stand and risking a glance in his direction. Fortunately, he was fully clothed now, so you turned to face him. "How do I look?" you asked, subconsciously tugging the skirt down again.
Spock's gaze slid along your figure for a moment as he contemplated you. It did not help the red in your cheeks. "You make an excellent Romulan lieutenant," he said at last. Was it just you, or did his eyes flicker back to your legs?
"With the exception that I know absolutely nil about Romulan military life beyond their salute," you reminded him. "What if someone tries to speak to me?"
"I do not believe that they shall," Spock said, frowning slightly. "In the Romulan Empire, it is customary to only address the highest ranking officer of a mission. I have taken a centurion's uniform, so any questions should be directed at me. However, someone may choose to give you an order. Here, (Y/N); tie up the other one."
He had pulled a few lengths of fabric from somewhere in his quarters, which you guessed to be some sort of ceremonial Vulcan belts, or maybe sashes.
"I could memorize a couple phrases just in case," you suggested, leaning over the male Romulan and tightly binding his hands and feet with the fabric. "How do you say 'yes, sir,' in Romulan?"
"Ie, rreki."
You blinked, brow knitting. "Uh . . . maybe a bit more slowly?"
He obligingly repeated the phrase more deliberately, finishing his tying up of the female Romulan and straightening back up again.
"Ie, r-rreki?" you managed clumsily. "How was that?"
"I would suggest that you phrase it less like a query, (Y/N)," Spock said, raising an eyebrow. "Romulans tend not to appreciate their orders being questioned."
"Ie, rreki," you said again. "Better?"
"You have an accent, but if you speak quickly enough, I doubt that anyone will notice." He bent down and picked up the two phasers that had fallen from the Romulans' hands.
You accepted one and tucked it into your belt. "How do we get to auxiliary control from here?" you asked.
"The quickest way would be by turbo lift."
"If they're still working."
"Indeed."
