Chakotay sat in the captain's chair, chin resting on his fist as he watched the currently uneventful viewscreen. He'd gotten an updated assessment of their status just as Paris departed the bridge, and it didn't look promising. They were holding steady for the moment, but their overall average was at less than half of normal operating parameters. The repeated stings from this fleet were wearing them down, and they needed help. Their fleet was overdue by more than three hours now, and his gut was telling him that they would appear the second Paris left the relative safety of Voyager.

"Delta Flyer to Voyager," Tom Paris's voice came through the speakers. "We're ready for launch."

"Permission granted," the captain responded, his eyes still fixed on the viewscreen. "Good luck."

"To you too. Delta Flyer out."

"They've cleared the shuttle bay," Lieutenant Kim reported just moments later.

Waters reversed the angle on the viewscreen to show the area between Voyager's nacelles just in time to see the Flyer's departure. The small vessel banked off to Voyager's port side, and got about ten seconds of flying time in before all hell broke loose.

"Enemy vessels are dropping out of warp twelve thousand kilometres astern," Harry called out in what was now a practiced tone.

"Shields up!" To Lieutenant Henz, Chakotay directed, "Keep us between them and the Flyer."

"Aye, sir."

It was in their imaginations, but they could almost feel the ship bank and veer left. "Time to intercept?"

"Fifteen seconds."

"Number of ships?"

"Same as last time – eighteen," Waters jumped in.

"They're firing on the Flyer!"

"Return fire!"

In the cold of space, concentrated beams of light and energy pulsed out from Voyager's hull, desperately trying to hit as many small vessels as they could in order to provide cover for the Flyer long enough for them to go to warp. It wasn't nearly enough, and about ten of them were able to get through Voyager's fire pattern. In the Flyer, Tom was doing his best to dive and weave throughout the greenish-blue bolts that rained down on them, but they still took a number of serious hits. "Shields are down to eighty-five percent," Vorik calmly called out, his fingers flying across the console.

"Mike, can you take some of them out?" Paris questioned.

"Let me see!" His brow furrowed in concentration, Mike Ayala concentrated all of their firepower on the ship that was making a direct line for them, hoping that focusing on a single point would weaken its shields enough to punch through them. A few seconds' burst was enough, and a flame erupted from its bow. "Direct hit!"

"Confirmed," Vorik added. "Their shields are down."

Mike's elation abruptly disappeared. "And they're careening out of control – right toward us!"

"Hang on!"

Paris dropped their ship into a tight spin, narrowly diving out of the way of the oncoming wreck. It missed them, but then collided with one of its companions, splitting the second ship in two and sending one of its spinning halves right into the Flyer's flight path. With no time to react, the larger Starfleet vessel rammed into it nearly head on, a deafening crunch and squeal of strained metal filling the cabin as it tore its way along the hull. Sparks and smoke filled the air, and while Paris had managed to stay in his seat, the others had been thrown into the bulkheads.

Vorik was the first back at his station. "Serious damage along the starboard hull, but no breeches."

"How's the nacelle?"

"There is some damage, but it is still operational. I would not recommend a velocity exceeding warp four."

"I'll take it. Mike, you okay?" Paris hollered back over his shoulder as he tried to move them to a clearing where they could generate a warp field.

Though moving more slowly, Ayala climbed back up to his console. "Bloody and singed, but alright."

"See if you can get some of these assholes off our back for a few seconds so we can get out of here!"

"I'm on it!"


Voyager was being picked to death. The enemy ships seemed to be employing the same strategy that they themselves had used during their last encounter, concentrating their firepower on weakened areas of the shields. "Aft shields down to thirty-eight percent!" Waters announced.

"They're going after our propulsion systems," Harry concurred.

"Fire at will," Chakotay ordered, wishing he could go out there with a phaser himself. He was more than tired of this.

Harry kept firing in random patterns to try and knock off whoever was in range, but there just seemed to be too many to inflict any significant damage. He didn't even bother stating the fact – they all knew it. So he plugged on, doing the best he could under the circumstances.

"Where's the Flyer?"

Waters brought the visual up on the screen, where they could see that Paris was speeding away, closely pursued by three of the ships. "He'll never be able to jump to warp with them there," someone commented.

"Christina, get us closer," the captain ordered. "Harry, concentrate on disabling those three." He held onto the arms of his chair as they were tossed around, knowing he just put Voyager in significant danger. But in the heat of the moment, Chakotay knew that sending the Flyer for help was going to be the only way to finally resolve this situation. He watched as Voyager swooped in on the trio, orange phaser bursts raining down on them. A power conduit over the Ops station overloaded and blew, filling the bridge with smoke and sparks, but when he glanced back, he saw that a battered Waters was still at his station.

"Aft shields are down to six percent!"

Their attention on the ships pursuing the flyer was beginning to work. One of them already broke off, while the other two were starting to lose speed. "Come on, Tom…" Chakotay whispered. As if Paris heard him, the Flyer suddenly took off, leaving a wink of light in its wake. They were gone. "Concentrate all fire on the remaining ships!" he called out to Harry, then to Henz, "Get us out of here. Best speed."

He barely had the words out of his mouth when the entire ship lurched. "Aft shields are down!" Waters reported, a bit of panic creeping into his voice.

Seeing a vulnerable point, the remaining ships converged on Voyager's back section, or at least tried to, as Henz kept the ship spinning and turning to try and protect that side. The inertial dampers were beginning to strain, and most people kept their eyes deliberately away from a viewscreen or portal so that the spiraling starfield wouldn't make them sick. Lieutenant Kim kept on firing, though it was having little effect. "They're swarming us!" he reported, which was an understatement.

Shot after shot rained down on the hull, creating havoc in Engineering. Consoles exploded, bulkheads shattered, and flying debris caused injury after injury. One shot blew out the secondary power couplings, plunging the entire compartment into darkness. B'Elanna picked herself up off the deck, letting out a relieved sigh when she found herself able to do so, and when the red emergency lighting came on. She cursed when she heard the comm line open. "Bridge to Engineering. Respond!"

She slapped her commbadge as she clambered to her feet. "Torres here. What the hell happened?"

"One of the ships that we disabled slammed into the hull just aft of Engineering," Chakotay's strained voice relayed. "Status?"

"Uh…Standby…" Weaving her way past a fallen beam, she went to two different consoles before she found one that was working. "Warp power is down!" she listed. "Impulse is damaged, but you can have up to half. Fractures all along the aft hull, and massive fluctuations in the port nacelle…" Hearing a cry of pain, she whirled around and saw that her staff was scattered throughout Engineering, all in various states of repose. "We've got injured here too."

"Understood."

On the bridge, Chakotay turned to Kim. "How many are left?"

"Fifteen, Sir. They're regrouping for another pass."

The captain's brain was grinding, trying to find a solution. It hit him like a bolt of lightning. "Harry, let's set off a depth charge."

Kim thought for a moment. "An antimatter containment pod detonated with a photon torpedo would do the trick."

"Get on it. Bridge to Engineering."

"Torres here."

"B'Elanna, I need you to prepare an antimatter pod that we can eject."

"A depth charge?"

Despite the situation, Chakotay smiled to himself. It had been one of the first things she'd ever done for him on the Val Jean. "You got it. And we need it yesterday."

"I'm on it."

The ship continued to spin and turn and dive as Henz did her best to keep out of the enemy's sights and buy them time. It took two critical minutes for B'Elanna to get the pod ready, but then she called. "Engineering to Bridge. Depth charge is locked and loaded."

"Photon torpedoes ready," Kim added.

"Launch the charge."

The pod, no larger than a piano, was ejected from the surviving launcher, its build-in engines guiding it toward the target. "Charge is launched," Waters confirmed.

"Fire!"

Three photon torpedoes sped toward the enemy ships, honing in on the depth charge. One of them missed both the charge and the fleet entirely, a second glanced off the shields of one of the ships. But the third found its target, igniting in a fireball that engulfed six of the closest vessels and blew the rest off course. "Five vessels destroyed," Harry reported, "one heavily damaged and adrift. The others are bugging out."

Chakotay let out a held breath. "Stand down red alert. Dispatch repair teams, give B'Elanna whoever she needs." As everyone got to work, he made his way back to the command chair, dropping down into it heavily and taking a moment just to breathe before activating his console to assess the damage. We're down to three… he reminded himself of their severely low photon torpedo count. Good luck trying that again. His gaze wandered to the viewscreen again, now blessedly empty of enemy vessels. Come on, Tom.