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The Voyager Exile.

"Captain's Log: Supplemental.

Voyager is still travelling through Borg Space. We have not suffered any new attacks from either the Borg or from Species 8472, and while some of the crew may have been happy about it, I'm worried. What makes it even more annoying is neither side relies upon conventional means of communication; Species 8472 are telepathic according to Kes, and even she has not felt or sensed anything for days, which only makes me worry even more. The Borg rely on their technological telepathic ability to communicate with one another over vast distances, and without being able to tell what's going on out there, we have no idea if we're going to be targeted or not. Meanwhile, the crew are developing new means of fighting both the Borg and Species 8472. Tuvok's has taken a team of from Sciences, Engineering, and Tactical to work on the projectile rifle while using the Doctor's knowledge of the Borg corpse we recovered months ago, and although the simulations hold up so far, there is a fine line between artificial reality and real life. Meanwhile, Tom Paris's "crimson death" idea derived from the 20th-century comic books he enjoys is gathering pace. And all that time we have two high-yield photon torpedoes with the modified nanoprobes prepared for immediate launch, just in case."


When he had first made the decision to become a Starfleet officer, Harry Kim had always been inspired by those stories of Jonathan Archer, Robert April, Matt Decker, Christopher Pike, and James T. Kirk, and he had dreamt of being on a starship exploring deep space and even commanding the ship while coming home to a hero's welcome that would put him up there with the heroes of Starfleet and the United Federation of Planets.

But now, as he walked through the holographic simulation of Voyager's corridors, which were programmed to show extensive damage to them - bulkheads had been buckled, the artificial gravity was fluctuating to simulate serious damage which was likely to happen considering how much of a death trap the Delta Quadrant was on a good day, Harry Kim wished he had taken stock in the old expression; "Be careful what you wish for, you may get it."

Now he and a small group of the crew - the simulations were compulsory, every member of the crew had to take part - were walking through darkened corridors of the simulation to test the new weapons and countermeasures B'elanna and Tuvok had come up with, with some help from the Doctor and other members of the crew who had the experience or the ideas to make it work, but Harry had no doubt in his mind their hearts were pounding in their chests, his was.

Harry looked down at his tricorder - the device had been programmed to work in this holographic program, and it was picking up their quarry - and he lifted his head to look at the detachment through the viewing plate of his armoured suit. It's almost unbelievable, he thought to himself, we've not had to use full-body armour for decades, and now here I am, as a 24th-century knight of the Round table!

The armoured suits were a recent addition to Voyager's armoury, and they were designed to resist the cybernetically enhanced strength of the Borg drones, though how much they could take from Species 8472 with their enormous forms and lightning quick reflexes, Harry did not know, but he was dreading the prospect of once more being struck in the chest like someone had waved a particularly sharp Klingon mek'leth at his chest. He shuddered, thankful his armour stopped anyone from seeing his fear of once more being infected, but he was glad neither B'elanna or Tuvok were arrogant enough to think the armour was going to be the end-all of their hopes to protect themselves.

But as he walked through the simulated corridors with his detachment, hefting up his rifle - the TR-116 rifle was completely different from the phaser rifles he had used in the past, either when he had been training at the academy during those numerous tactical training sessions or when he had joined the Voyager crew, but this rifle was different, it was slimmer and in some ways it felt like he was holding a flute instead of his beloved clarinet - Harry couldn't help but think.

In the last three weeks since the captain had made her announcement they needed to rethink Voyager's defence strategy, many of the crew had come forward including the Doctor when the hologram had thought about using the nanoprobe technology of the Borg to prevent assimilation, but while she had been willing to give the premise a chance, B'elanna had taken extra steps to make sure there was a lot more on offer to prevent any of their people from becoming mindless automatons. B'elanna was an engineer, the doctor was a, well he was a doctor, with the mindset of a physician but while the Doctor's program was flexible enough to make him think and see outside of the box enough for him to come up with fantastic ideas, there was only so much that he could do, though Harry would be forever thankful to the Doctor for coming up with the idea of reprogramming the nanoprobes to destroy the infection Species 8472 had inflicted on him.

B'elanna had taken some of the nanoprobes and she had studied their technology, and she had learnt they were vulnerable to omicron particles. Once she had made the discovery, she and Tuvok had tried to work out ways of using that knowledge to prevent the Borg from assimilating them. They had thought of simply inoculating their people with omicron particles or finding some ways of generating a field of omicron energy to render the probes useless before assimilation could even take place. The bad news with that idea was omicron particles were dangerous in enormous doses, but B'elanna and her team had not given up. And then someone had come up with the idea of building a kind of tactical armour that had a kind of immune system that generated a low-level omicron field around their bodies, but if the Borg tried to assimilate them the suit would detect it and the computer was programmed to generate a massive surge of omicron energy to combat the nanoprobes.

The hard part was the suits were rather bulky. They had been assembled in a hurry using the minerals taken from an asteroid belt; after the captain had come up with the rather mad idea to develop nuclear weapons, of all things, B'elanna had used the opportunity to get her hands on enough material to create the armour, which was composed of layers. The outer layer was composed of a composite with a layer underneath where an omicron field was located near a forcefield generator - the Borg, B'elanna had reasoned, cheated with their ability to adapt, so why shouldn't they do the same? - followed by two other layers. Harry was thankful her friend had thought about using cybernetics to make these suits essentially exoskeletal in nature; they augmented their user's endurance and physical skills. The drawback was they were bulky and made him feel like he was a giant.

The suits were essentially robotic, and Harry wondered if B'elanna was using her experience with the Pralor robots they'd encountered two years before for inspiration for some of the robotics since the experience had given B'elanna a load of insight into robotics you wouldn't learn in the Federation or in the Maquis.

Harry studied the tricorder again before he nodded, and became tense. None of the rest of the detachment could see it, of course, but he still became worried. "It's done this corridor," he spoke through the comm channel the suits were designed to work with, "ready your weapons."

As he watched the detachment clumsily release the safety on their weapons - it was a motley collection of regenerative phasers and projectile weapons that Harry himself was using - Harry was thankful B'elanna and Tuvok had plans on improving the suits. They were collecting a huge amount of useful information about them with each simulation, and the engineering crew were constantly modifying the design so then it would be perfect for use against the Borg and Species 8472.

But Harry had his doubts and his concerns. There was simulated reality and there was real life, after all; the program was as good as it was going to get, and while Starfleet had some good experience with the collective after the first encounter when Q had flung the Enterprise into the path of that original cube, to the massacre at Wolf 359, and the band of Borg the deranged android Lore had commanded to work with, they still didn't have a lot of experience with the Borg to know what they were capable of in a fight.

He just wasn't sure if the armour would really work out in the long term in a practical fight, still, it was a good idea, and if he were honest with himself he would rather be protected than exposed to the open as he had been on that cube that had been hanging on by scaffolding.

"Come on," Harry said, and he led the way down the corridor slowly, ignoring the sparks from the simulated damaged conduits and the flickering lights, and the green glare of plasma fires. The gloom of the corridor and the dim lighting made it easier for their quarry to hide. Harry sighed under his breath; the hand beacons mounted on the composite alloy gauntlets of the armour couldn't cover a lot of ground, and besides their quarry had been programmed to make this as difficult as it could possibly get.

"Keep it tight," Harry added in a whisper as though frightened what lurked in this simulation could overhear him and sense his fear, "this thing is fast. Keep it calm, and keep your weapons ready at all times." He lifted his own rifle and flexed his fingers over the silver body, following his own advice to the letter as he slowly led the team through the maze of corridors.

Suddenly out of nowhere, the massive form of one of the extra-dimensional aliens appeared out of nowhere in front of Harry who was so taken by surprise he almost fell, but he was relieved when he didn't, the hand beacon picking out the shape of the holographic version of the alien that had attacked him, but one of the detachment behind him shone their own light past the creature and found two more.

Harry didn't hesitate. "Fire!" he yelled, lifting up his rifle while the others did the same.

The members who had the regenerative phasers fired their own shots at one of the creatures, and the creature shrieked with pain and rage, but the force of the energy beams which were laced with modified Borg nanotechnology, and the way the probes attacked the creature's body made it crumble under the stress and it died. Meanwhile, Harry squeezed the trigger on his rifle and fired off round after round. When he had been younger, Harry had studied human history and technology, and while he had a rather inflated view about how wonderful the Federation was to the point where it occasionally caused friction between him and his Maquis crewmates, he knew enough history to know there was a large bang when projectile weapons were fired.

Not this one.

The bullets were fired, yes, but the rifles had been modified so they featured a micro-transporter that passed through matter. It didn't take long, even in the gloom of the corridor and the limited glare of their lights, the team could see the effects instantly; the skin of the aliens began to turn ashen grey in colour, and they began getting physically weaker and weaker before they collapsed. Harry had to admit to himself it was a fairly dramatic idea of what everyone thought would happen if the individual aliens and not their ships were exposed to the probes, though he didn't know if they'd shrivel up, become a pile of dust like a vampire exposed to sunlight or turn to stone like a gorgon had stared at them.


Janeway and the rest of the senior staff were reviewing the numerous simulations that had been going on non-stop. As she and the others of the command staff watched the briefing room monitor, they saw the numerous simulations one after another as the crew faced off against the holographic Borg and members of the extra-dimensional species.

As she watched the monitor, Janeway wasn't sure how she should be feeling. On the one hand, she was pleased with the ingenuity B'elanna and Tuvok had shown when they'd come up with the armour, and she was just relieved her crew were well trained enough to meet and fight the odds, but on the other side….

Armour. Projectile weapons. This was basically a scene out of Earth's history virtually every human had put behind them for years, but she had to admit the armour was practical in this case especially after the crew had discovered the Borg's assimilation technology was vulnerable to omicron radiation, and besides after Harry had been infected with the aliens' DNA which had nearly eaten him from the inside out and killed him, Janeway had no intention of seeing the other members of her crew go through the same hell again; the Doctor may have devised a treatment, but when the armour idea had been pitched, she'd realised she had had enough of her crew being injured.

When the simulation replay ended, Janeway took a moment to gather her thoughts. "Alright, I know for many of the crew, the idea of wearing powered armour must have been difficult, but the simulations say the suits were highly effective," she said, "now we need to know the risk. Doctor?"

"I'm looking into the long-term protections of using the omicron particles, Captain," the holographic doctor began, not sounding particularly happy with the need to use a dangerous radioactive element to protect themselves from the Borg, though Janeway could hardly say she liked it any more than the hologram did, "however with the right inoculations there do not seem to be any risks despite the toxicity. I am also trying to find out if there are any other means of preventing assimilation, and my research is going into modifying nanoprobes, however, my work is still in its early stages."

"Keep at it," Janeway told the hologram before she turned to B'elanna. "What about our plan to use our transporters to beam torpedoes and nuclear bombs directly into the bioships?"

"It's going slowly," B'elanna replied, giving a tired smile; Janeway knew how she felt. She had put in a lot of hours going over the numerous means given to her to come up with plans to fight both the Borg and Species 8472, moving from project to project, on top of maintaining Voyager's systems. "The trick is adapting the transporters to transport the bombs close or inside the fast moving objects while doing it multiple times. We're also having to strip out most of the torpedo arrays to fit the new transporters, but we're close to finishing up."

"Keep me informed. I want to begin tests as soon as you're ready," Janeway said, knowing from long experience applying time pressure to B'elanna's work would not help the temperamental woman. The engineering staff had a lot on their plate, she didn't want to make things even harder for them, and she owed them a great deal.

B'elanna nodded, "Aye, Captain."

Janeway turned to Tuvok. "Where are we with the new weapons?"

"The new projectile rifles are certainly exceeding projections on the holodecks," Tuvok reported, though thanks to her long association and friendship with the Vulcan, Janeway could tell he was troubled by something, "however we still lack any first-hand knowledge of Borg adaptation technology."

"I think I can help you there," the Doctor suddenly interrupted, and everyone looked at the hologram questioningly. The Doctor's excitement dimmed slightly when everyone's attention shifted over to himself, realising he had spoken a bit too loudly, but the holographic physician quickly regathered his confidence. "I have been studying the data I've gathered from the Borg corpse and from the tricorder readings taken when the away team boarded that damaged cube. I think I can modify the rifles to match the Borg's forcefield frequencies so the bullets can penetrate them, and kill the drones."

Janeway noticed that as he said the last bit in a more subdued manner, and she needed a moment to recall the Doctor's Hippocratic oath was a major part of his programming though he knew that occasionally that particular rule had to be occasionally bent because sometimes it was necessary to destroy rather than to save.

She also noticed while he wasn't happy about the way he was casually speaking about killing Borg drones, he was aware it was virtually impossible to save them since they'd been wired into the collective consciousness of the Borg.

Janeway wished no-one would have to kill the Borg considering they were made up of victims sucked in forcibly by the collective who had battered down their former homes, their ships, destroyed their peoples and their lives, but she also had to accept the fact death might actually be seen as their release.

"That's great, Doctor," Chakotay's voice broke through her thoughts, and Janeway wondered just how long she had been silent. Embarrassed, she paid more attention to the conversation as Chakotay went on, "when will you do this?"

"I will need to work with Lieutenants Torres and Tuvok, but I think we can modify the rifles very quickly," the Doctor replied.

"Good," Janeway said, racking her brain now for something else they needed to cover. She found it fairly quickly. "What about the nuclear weapons themselves?"

An air of sudden unease fell over the table at the change in subject. Janeway couldn't blame them. Nuclear weapons had once brought the human race to its lowest ebb, after decades of peace caused by the awareness of what a full-on nuclear holocaust after the Second World War which saw the destruction of two Japanese cities, and the contamination caused by accidents that took place at later dates - Chernobyl sprang to mind, however she was also aware of the testing of nuclear weapons which spread radioactivity into the Earth's atmosphere. Humanity had known the dangers of nuclear war since the 1940s and harm the effects of radiation could have on organic matter - cancers, birth defects, health problems, death, the destruction of cities… And they still used them in the long-term, and the Earth was so battered down, six hundred million people dead, it was a miracle anyone managed to survive before Cochrane broke the warp barrier that changed the entirety of human history, and for the better.

Janeway was aware thanks to the compulsory history lessons she had taken in the past and her long association with Tuvok which had given her insights into Vulcan history as well that the Vulcans had used nuclear weapons themselves before Surak appeared, and the Time of Awakening took place which solidified the logicians philosophy of peace, but the damage to Vulcan was many times greater than what had taken place on Earth.

Through their savagery and intense emotions, Vulcan civilisation was nearly destroyed, their planet was devastated and many parts of the planet contaminated by radiation, conditions were so bad for the Vulcan people they needed 1,500 years to rebuild and clean up their world, use their new reason to develop their culture, open up new resources on their world, and discover the secrets of science which allowed them to eventually become an interstellar power.

Many people and races, Janeway knew, were flabbergasted and horrified when they heard what humanity had done to their planet, the only world they had, the one they lived on and needed to survive, and recklessly poisoned it. Janeway agreed with them and even envied those same races, but she was also proud because, without that war, there was a good chance First Contact would never have happened, but still she could understand the unease in the room at the thought of using nuclear weapons, devices which were, by Federation scientific standards, obsolete.

To her credit B'elanna looked almost at ease at the thought of constructing the weapons, however, there was something that looked like a tinge of unease like the half Klingon looked like she was feeling sick at something but didn't have the time, "It's going slowly. Our first batch should be ready soon.

"Alright, good," Janeway replied before she turned to Harry Kim, but before she could say anything the familiar background hum of the warp engines suddenly gave out.

"Janeway to the bridge," the urgent voice of Tom Paris who had been left in command of the bridge temporarily while the staff meeting had been taking place came over the comm. At the sound of the urgent command and the sudden dropping of warp, Janeway was on her feet and heading straight for the bridge, the rest of the senior staff following her out.

The moment she crossed the threshold and saw what was on the viewscreen, the immediate question on Janeway's lips died when she caught sight of the number of Species 8472's dart-like bio-ships which were surrounding Voyager.

"They appeared out of no-where a few seconds ago while we were travelling at warp," Tom explained, "there was no quantum singularity, no warning. Nothing. The moment they appeared, our warp field suddenly shut down like it wasn't even there"

The scientist in Janeway momentarily wondered how the bio-ships were able to do that. Did they have some way of hiding in subspace, was that how they had managed to appear without the sensors picking them up, though the cloaking devices used by the Voth, the Klingons and the Romulans worked by bending light…. but she quickly pushed that aside - it wasn't exactly the time to make guesses, and besides, it wasn't likely the aliens would tell them how they'd done it. What mattered now was they were far from ready against this many ships.

"How many ships are there, Tuvok?" she asked the Vulcan, who'd quickly retaken his console, acknowledging Tom's brisk report over what happened as she did so he could resume his station.

"I am picking up thirty-two bio-ships, Captain," Tuvok's unemotional voice was calm and steady, but his concern over what could happen was broadcasted clearly to everyone on the bridge. "They are also generating a dampening field which is obscuring our sensors. If they fire, we will not be able to retaliate."

Thirty-two? Janeway thought, studying the screen quickly for inspiration over what they could do about it while the inclusion of the dampening field was even more frightening. The torpedo tubes B'elanna, Tuvok and Harry had been modifying with the transporters were far from ready. She had been keeping abreast with what they'd been doing recently with the transporters, and so she knew the whole system was a complete shambles there was no doubt in her mind it would take time for B'elanna to get it sorted out in time, and besides a lot could happen in a few moments, especially with this many ships surrounding them in such a tight formation that made it very difficult for them to move.

"What are they waiting for?" she overheard Harry whisper, though the ensign's voice carried, she didn't rebuke him for speaking out like that, because the question was a fair one, and it was on her own mind.


On their ships in the formation, the aliens were currently in mental communication with the rest of their kindred as they carried out the final assaults on the Borg which would completely weaken the hold the Queen had over them before they made their next move. They were able to multitask between monitoring their ships, coaxing and encouraging them to carry out their assignments, observing their enemies while they remained in communication contact with their race in their home realm.

In the weeks since their first encounter with this small, seemingly insignificant ship with its primitive, inferior crew, their kind had suffered casualties caused by this one ship, which was a surprise given the war they'd had been fighting had been fairly even since hostilities with the Borg Collective had begun when the Borg had intruded in their domain and tried to assimilate them before they had driven the original group off and followed them through the gateway into a universe dominated by impure races.

Command wanted this ship to be destroyed, but the leader of the formation wanted to play psychologically with the crew first. All they had to do was to charge their weapons up make a few threatening moves in the hopes the crew would panic. It was more fun that way than playing with the mindless group mind of the collective.


B'elanna ground her teeth together so hard a part of her mind, the part dominated by her human half, was afraid she would develop lock-jaw as she struggled to work with the transporter. The moment she had seen the bio-ships on the view screen she had immediately headed for the nearest transporter room after telling Chakotay what she planned to do, knowing her former Maquis leader would understand and would tell the captain what she had in mind.

There was no time for her to head to a torpedo bay where the main work in refitting the torpedo firing system with a transporter was taking place around the clock depending on how many of her engineering crew she could actually spare on the project, but as she worked on the transporter, knowing it was her only chance since all of the modified torpedoes were stuck in the torpedo bays.

Sure, Tuvok could fire a high-yield torpedo from the bridge, but firing the torpedo when the ships were so close, and with that dampening field in place, it would be hard to target a point close to the ships…. That was why she was working on the transporter system, which had seen a great deal of damage since they'd entered Borg space, making everything nine times more difficult than it needed to be. The idea she had was to beam a torpedo or two behind the bio-ships before the aliens could react, destroying them from behind.

B'elanna was so caught up in her work and she was in her stride when the comm annoyingly chirped, and it made her jump and drop her tools. Cursing under her breath, she tapped her comm badge as she gathered up her tools to get back to work.

"Torres here," she said over the line, hoping this was not a long conversation.

"B'elanna, how's it going?"

B'elanna sighed mentally when she heard Janeway's voice; ever since she had become the chief engineer, a job she really enjoyed because she loved working with technology, though it came with drawbacks such as never-ending pressure and time constraints, she had learnt the hard and the easy way how demanding Janeway was even if she liked the other woman. Still, she would have preferred it if no-one had called her at that point.

"Not well," she said bluntly as she worked, "the transporters have taken a fair amount of damage, and they weren't designed to hold such in-depth programming and rejigging like this… What are the bio-ships doing?"

Over the line, she heard Janeway sigh. "They're still sitting there," she said, "they keep arming and powering up their forward weapons, but that's all they do. There are occasional energy spikes that look like they're about to fire, but they don't do it. Chakotay says they're playing with us, and I agree with him."

B'elanna nodded, struggling to concentrate on what she was doing while she worked. "It's a trick the Cardassians used against our hideouts or suspected hideouts," she said shortly, "they would arm and lock on with their forward disruptors and pretend they're going to fire, but they power down at the last moment. They did it to invite an attack, and some really stupid hot-headed Maquis fell for the trick. Hook, line, and sinker. They quickly learnt the depths of their mistake."

"That's what Chakotay described," Janeway agreed. "He says we just have to keep calm and only fire if they do."

"Good thing we've got Tuvok at tactical, then," B'elanna commented absently as she worked, but she yelped in shock as an unexpected electric spark burnt the tips of her fingers, and reflexively she let out a string of rude and extremely creative Klingon curses.

"B'elanna?! What's happened, are you okay?"

Pleased Janeway was not immediately calling her up on her language since Starfleet regulations frowned on the use of such language, B'elanna calmed down quickly and sucked her fingers. "Ow, there was power in that circuit… I wasn't expecting it to be that overpowered…," she whispered, gazing at her fingers for a moment before she resumed her work. "I'm still here, Captain," she went on, guessing that Janeway wanted a more in-depth report, "I just electrocuted myself, but I'm okay."


On the bridge, Janeway winced with sympathy when she heard about what had just happened, and she was just about to ask the other woman for an in-depth report but decided to leave her to it. "Get it seen to when you're finished, B'elanna," she ordered, "but keep us informed."

"Aye, Captain."

When the line was closed down Janeway looked at the view screen and the bio-ships surrounding them. She wondered what was going through their minds and what they were planning to do, though the answer was pretty redundant. There were so many ships if the aliens had not despatched so many of them to where Voyager was in order to batter it down relying on sheer strength through numbers, she would be very surprised.

Janeway distantly heard the turbo lift doors open, but she paid it no attention - it was probably just another member of the crew coming to the bridge, besides she had a lot on her mind as she tried to work out what they could do.

"Mr Tuvok, have you managed to break through the dampening field?" she asked.

"Negative Captain," Tuvok replied, futilely stabbing at the buttons on his console.

Janeway sighed under her breath, and she turned around to face the Vulcan to offer him some suggestion to help compensate for the dampening field in case B'elanna was unable to get the transporter working on time, but she found her view obscured by the sight of Kes.

"Kes?" she whispered, surprised to see the girl on the bridge; the Ocampan girl had been keeping herself to herself recently, whether it was to get on with her work or because she was trying to find a way to contact Species 8472 without endangering the crew because of some telepathic property beyond Janeway's comprehension, she didn't know.

"I can hear them," the girl whispered in her calm, serene voice, though it was trembling with the effort like she was trying very hard not to collapse in agony, and Janeway's gasped when she saw the tears coming down Kes's face. "They've been trying to rip through my mind, trying to get knowledge of our defences… I've tried to lock them out, but there are too many of them. I've been trying to tell them… tell them we just want to leave Borg space. They just don't listen. I-I came here…. hoping you can help me, Tuvok…."

Tuvok was instantly by Kes's side, his hand raised as if to perform a mind-meld with the Ocampan, but Janeway, while she could understand the logic behind that, knowing Tuvok's mental control might be enough to help Kes resist the aliens' assault, wondered if he had weighed up the consequences of his own knowledge of Voyager's defences and their current plans becoming known to the aliens.

But she was surprised when Tuvok instead laid his hand on the girl's shoulder. "Kes, listen to my voice," the Vulcan instructed softly, "concentrate on the aliens and their attempts to probe your mind. Imagine yourself constructing a wall. Now relax. Concentrate on that wall, you are building it block by block."

Janeway and Chakotay exchanged a look. Both of them were in tune enough despite the often fraught relationship they had whenever something came to shake it up to know what the other was thinking, and both of them were worried this might not work. They had faith Tuvok's attempt to help Kes resist the aliens, but they guessed the Vulcan was trying to help teach the girl to hold them off long enough to help B'elanna with the transporter, but they also had doubts it would work.

Tuvok was good, they knew that, but they didn't know enough about the aliens to tell if this was going to work out enough.

Kes's face screwed up with the effort, and she shook her head, more tears trickling down her face. "N-no," she whimpered uncharacteristically, "I can't...I can't, Tuvok. There are too many of them… .they're battering down my mind!" Kes threw her hands up and pressed them against the sides of her heard as if she were trying to hold off her attacks in the physical world as well.

"Torres to bridge. I think I've gotten it, Captain," B'elanna's came through over the comm, sounding both relieved and worried at the same time.

Janeway sighed with relief. "Proceed, lieutenant," she ordered, making a mental note to find a way to treat B'elanna to something fantastic later.

On the viewscreen, a small number of torpedoes were seen being transported into space by the bio-ships, taking the aliens by surprise and the ships were destroyed. Janeway mentally cringed at the number of torpedoes B'elanna used, but she guessed the engineer wanted to make absolutely sure.

The result of the destruction of the alien ships had on Kes was dramatic. The girl closed her eyes and almost collapsed over the railings, and Janeway flinched at the sight, wondering to herself just how much strain the girl had been under to get into that state in the first place.

Tuvok and another crew member were instantly there to help stabilise the girl so she didn't collapse to the ground, but Kes recovered more rapidly than Janeway had expected; she'd had her attention diverted when they had first fled a bio-ship after beaming Chakotay's team back after Harry had been attacked, so she wasn't sure how long it had taken but Kes had been alright after a moment after they'd managed to escape.

"Kes? Are you alright?" she asked gently.

Kes nodded, but it looked like she was trying very hard not to be sick. "Yes, I'm fine," she croaked, "there were just so many minds attacking my own mind when they were killed it was like the contact was a piece of frayed elastic."

Janeway flinched at the visual image Kes had just given her.

But Kes was not finished. She looked up at the Captain with hooded eyes that gave her a haggard expression. "There's something you need to know, Captain," she said breathlessly as she tried hard to recover from her ordeal. "The aliens, before they died, told me they had won against the Borg."


Oooh, a cliffhanger. Love those.

Anyway, what do you think is going to happen next?

Until the next time...