Author's notes:

Weird how it sometimes goes – I have a zillion plot bunnies ready to go, but haven't decided what to go with yet. I've got two chapters for each. So I'll allow my devoted and adoring readers to have a voice. A trip to the Mirror Universe Voyager style, a visit from a DS9 style Defiant-class cruiser a la 'Valiant', a hyperactive Q who shows Janeway a path not taken vis-a-vis Equinox -- what do you want to see?

But this one isn't quite yet done yet.

Worker72: Yes, the Vor'moch crew is having some doubts, but Janeway doesn't. I will promise you this: they won't blow up the ship at the end.

Marshpusey: I did not sign the Cliffie Non-Proliferation Treaty, nor did I ever sign the UN Convention on the Rights of Fanfic Readers, and therefore there isn't much that can be done about it. :)

KrazyKatKrueger: Glad you liked it. I figured B'Eleyra would be a good character to deliver that message.

Stoko: Here's where you get to find out what she ordered them to do.

LibertyMaquis: Yes, the Vor'moch crew has some dirty tricks. Here's more.

The time was at hand.

Admiral Rhoden of the Karnaii Defense Organization had quite literally grown up to hate Latarrans. His father had told him of how the colony at Salim Ru had been a paradise. A paradise taken away from them by the brutal, villainous Latarrans. For over a century, recapturing their home had been the burning, central focus of every Karnaii old enough to know the story.

He had been there when Vor'moch, low on food and dilithium, entered the Karnaii reservation. Others in the KDO had felt they were a threat. Rhoden had known better. They were only travelers, and they had far better technology than his race had been able to scrounge up on the desolate planets that the Latarrans forced them to live on.

He would have been satisfied with disruptors and cloaking devices. The doomsday device in trade for the wormhole had proved to be a masterstroke. He'd always been a cunning negotiator, and wheedling Vor'moch into carrying out both a test and an attack had been his finest hour.

No, he thought, looking over the screen on which white points indicated cloaked Karnaii vessels. His finest hour would be very soon, when Vor'moch deployed the baryon warhead. It would be his feet that set foot on Salim Ru for the first time in a century. He would be the first Karnaii governor of the colony. It would be his name that would be in the history books.

He still had doubts as to whether or not Vor'moch would be able to use the wormhole. Occasional Klingon garbage – unmanned satellites and similar things – had come through. They had never been able to send anything through from their end; their ships could not hold up under the immense gravitational forces of the wormhole. On the few occasions they had tried, the ships had been crushed like eggs.

Even so, the miraculous technology that this ship had gave them immense advantages. One ship that was far larger than anything the Karnaii could produce. One ship that had slipped through the Latarran military net with ease, and devastated the colony on Spanos. Their weapons, their cloaking devices – he'd known he had to get them.

Now, he had it all. He had the disruptors and the cloaking devices, and his engineers had worked night and day to deploy them on as many Karnaii vessels as they could. Sending Srask to the wormhole had hurt – there was no better engineer in the entire Karnaii Defense Organization. Still, he had confidence in his ragtag fleet. He needed Srask to get the very last card Vor'moch had to play – the secret of the baryon warhead.

Rhoden's ship was small by the standards of the Federation or the Klingons. It was roughly one-quarter the size of Vor'moch or the Latarran bootlick Voyager. It was the best the Karnaii could manage, and it was up to the task required of it. It could reach warp five, and it had sufficient facilities to direct the invasion of Salim Ru. The Karnaii had learned to make do with what resources they had.

Soon, they would have more resources than they knew what to do with.

There was talk in the Karnaii Defense Organization about what they should do with the Latarrans, once this was all complete and the Karnaii held the whip. Some admirals had suggested a punitive peace with their former tormentors. Some had suggested attacking the remaining Latarran planets, driving the Latarrans slowly but surely to Latarra Prime and imprisoning them on their own planet forever. Some of his more extreme staff wanted to extirpate the hated race entirely.

Rhoden had not yet decided. The best part was that the Karnaii would have the military power to carry out that threat, if things went well. But he was not so drunk with the possibilities of power as the others. The Latarrans would have to be crushed. Their ships would be destroyed, their officers killed. It was likely they would need a stark lesson on their new circumstances. He was ready to give that lesson.

He stared at the map of Salim Ru on his wall. The Vor'moch did not intend to fight off the defenses over the main cities of Salim Ru; the ship itself would be somewhere over the vast ocean, or perhaps hovering over a faraway continent. They had a relatively easy part to play. Vor'moch did not need to engage Latarran defenses; they could be on the other side of the planet and fire their baryon weapon.

Rhoden sat down and closed his eyes. Salim Ru would be theirs again, and the Latarrans would at long last taste their due justice. The Karnaii would rule triumphant. A century of oppression and bitterness, and it would be over within a few hours.

The time was at hand.

Vor'moch dropped out of warp approximately a million kilometers from the sun of Salim Ru. The cloaking device was well within tolerance, and there would have been no more than a momentary flicker on any nearby ships' sensors. The only nearby ships were planetary defense ships which were buzzing around Salim Ru. Their sensors couldn't even penetrate the old cloaking devices that the Karnaii had, let alone the Vor'moch's state-of-the-art technology. They buzzed over the colony, protecting it like bees protecting their hive.

That did not bother the crew of the Vor'moch. They could eavesdrop on the Latarran frequencies. Their allies in the Karnaii had given them the keys to the encrypted military frequencies, so they could hear everything. There was no indication that dropping to impulse had aroused any suspicion from their target. They would have to enter the atmosphere, but they could enter wherever they wanted; the baryon warhead had a standard torpedo engine, and could be launched from anywhere.

The fire control crews had already loaded the large weapon into torpedo tube three, and the other torpedo tubes were loaded with standard photon torpedoes. All five would be launched. It would take no more than two minutes for the warhead to fly from Vor'moch to just over the central city on Salim Ru, where it would explode high over the skies.

The Latarran military was on high alert, but Koth was not worried. They would see Vor'moch and fire on her, assuredly. That would be a problem if Vor'moch planned to stand and fight. He didn't. Even at warp eight, he would be able to outrun any Latarran ship. This was the Karnaii's battle

Koth sat on his bridge, Kinsey alongside him. The senior bridge crew were all at their posts. Everything was as it should be. This might prove to be easier than he had thought. They would enter the atmosphere of the planet at the southern pole, then slowly vector northwest until they were over a large planetary landmass they'd identified from maps the Karnaii had provided. He'd identified that as the best point from which to fire: within torpedo range, but far enough away from Latarran patrols that they would have a small head start to exit the atmosphere and get en route to Karnaii space.

Staying cloaked in an atmosphere was a difficult matter; the cloaking devices of the Klingon Empire were designed to work in deep space. In an atmosphere you had to deal with sonic booms and the simple, inescapable fact that you were pushing through air and could thus be detected. The K'Vort class worked well in atmospheric conditions, although nothing could match the small, highly maneuverable B'Rel.

For a moment Koth thought back to his first posting. He'd been weapons officer on a B'Rel class ship. Later, he'd helmed one. Nothing could swoop and toss like those little scouts. But Vor'moch was up to the task. They only needed to be in the atmosphere for a few minutes.

He stared at the viewscreen, the bright living world of Salim Ru ahead of him. It would take perhaps ten more minutes to reach the planet at full impulse. It wouldn't be long until they were done with this unpleasant duty, and then they could be on their way.

"Something coming up fast. Warp...nine point nine seven five," Sayba said abruptly, breaking off his reverie. "It must be Voyager."

He grunted, surprised. "On screen."

The screen flicked from planet view to the sun of Salim Ru. A small speck hurtled towards it. Koth tilted his head. Were they planning to plunge themselves into the star? It didn't make sense.

Voyager altered course just slightly, still heading towards the star but now moving up, as if it intended to slice off a chunk of superhot gas. It turned again, wheeling inside the huge ball, shuddering occasionally under the intense gravimetric forces. Koth frowned.

"What in the bloody hell?" That was Karg, who had adopted a few phrases of his inamorata.

"They cannot last long inside a star."

That much was true; starships were capable of passing through a star at warp, or even at impulse. Yet no starship could spend too much time inside one, not if it intended to maintain the crew aboard it. Voyager curved again, still inside the sun.

He realized what they were doing.

"They are attempting to slow themselves using the gravity of the star," he mused. Clever.

"Either that," Crowley added from the engineering station, "or they'd prefer burning to death to being crushed."

"Belay that," he admonished, his eyes still on the screen. She was right, though. If they stayed in the star too long they would die just as assuredly as if they had dropped out of warp without inertial dampers.

The sun emitted solar flares as if objecting to this tiny intruder, but they did not concern Koth. The cloaking device could compensate. Voyager could play in the sun for as long as it wanted. His job was clear.

"We could hit them while they're busy," Kinsey suggested. "The Latarrans probably wouldn't detect it."

Vor'moch continued at full impulse towards it target. Behind it, Voyager careened and capered in the sun. What was happening on that ship? He tried to calculate how long it would take to use a star's gravity to gradually slow. It would be hellishly difficult, and if one small move was incorrect – one course change executed a few seconds too late, one calculation slightly off, or one system failing at an inopportune time – the result could mean instant death. Deep space was unforgiving of mistakes. At ten thousand degrees Kelvin, it was triply so.

Would they have time to slow from high warp to normal space? Perhaps. All the same, he intended to move carefully and stealthily until he had some indication that they didn't see him. For a moment he was tempted to turn about and fire on the Federation starship while it frolicked in its inhospitable environment. Then he shook his head.

"Maintain course," he directed. "Weapon status?"

Barkovitch checked his console. "Loaded in torpedo bay three, ready to fire. We need thirty seconds to arm the warhead."

Koth nodded. "Arm it now," he said.

Far below the deck, in the belly of the ship, the homemade baryon warhead began to hum as it armed.

The time was at hand.

If the bridge had been tense before, it was charged now. Stubbornness and anger radiated from the captain's chair. Tom Paris manned the helm, misgivings on his face and churning his belly. Tuvok was stone-faced in the way only Vulcans had mastered. Harry Kim was noticeably twitching as the ship approached the sun.

Salim Ru's sun was a small star, but even so, it was at least ten thousand degrees Kelvin. That was more than enough to cook every last member of Voyager's crew to a crisp. Under normal conditions, this was dangerous. With most of Voyager's safeties undone, it seemed suicidal.

"Mr. Paris. Alter our course by forty-five degrees mark two." Janeway's voice was ice.

"Altering course, aye," Paris said, his voice strained and wracked.

"Mr. Kim. Hull temperature."

"Seventeen hundred degrees."

Next to her, Chakotay sat silently, his hands bunched into fists. Voyager plunged into the star and shuddered under the gravitational forces.

Thirty seconds of intense, strained silence passed.

"Current speed," Janeway said.

"Warp nine point five...nine point three five...nine point two," Tom recited weakly.

"Good. It's working." She did not move. "Hull temperature, Mr. Kim?"

"Two thousand degrees," Kim said.

"Alter course. One thirty five mark four."

"Course altered, aye," Paris said.

There was no camaraderie, no pleasantry, nothing but the tension of a captain determined to stop her ship as fast as she could and a crew who believed she was risking their lives to do so. Yet slowly but surely, Voyager was able to use the gravity of the star to coast to a stop, making tight, quick turns that the degraded inertial dampers couldn't keep up with.

"Warp eight point three. Eight point two. Eight."

"Hull temperature three thousand degrees. Sensors in the hull are degrading."

"Maintain course," Janeway said inexorably.

An alarm sprang to life. Kim tensed at his post. "Captain, the main sensor array is overheating. It can't take that much heat."

"Maintain course."

Another few tense minutes, another course change to remain inside the star. Alarms began to peal overhead. Janeway ignored them. They had to slow down, and they were slowing down. It was working. All they had to do was slow down enough to return to normal space before the ship took too much damage.

"Speed," Janeway said.

"Warp six point four," Paris said. "Six point three. Six point two."

"Phaser arrays four and six are overheating," Kim reported nervously.

Chakotay glanced over at his obsessed captain. "We can't spend much more time in here," he said.

Janeway turned around and stared at him with steely, hard eyes. "We'll spend as much time as we need to," she said, her voice bitten and hard.

As Voyager slowed further, the gravimetric forces began to have a stronger effect. But over a billion Voyagers could have fit in the star, and those same gravimetric forces tossed the ship like a twig on a river, and its systems could not take the abuse.

"Warp three. Two point seven. Two point four," Paris reported ten minutes later.

"Phaser arrays four, six, and eight are offline. Main sensor array is cutting in and out. Structural integrity field is fluctuating."

"One more turn ought to do it," Janeway mused. "Bring us about, two twenty five mark three."

Paris acknowledged the order, carefully maintaining the slowly dropping numbers. The intense heat of the star was beginning to overwhelm the environmental control systems, and the temperature of the bridge had risen. Janeway held firm.

"Warp one point five...one point two...normal space!" Paris said.

At the same time, sparks spat from several consoles. Harry Kim ducked away from his own with the quick reflexes of youth. A moment later, he returned to it and scowled.

"Main sensor array is cutting in and out, phaser power relays are fused. Shield generators functional, but only to twenty-five percent. And we can't go back to warp until we fix the inertial dampers."

"We still have torpedoes," Janeway said dismissively. "Mr. Paris, get us out of here. Full impulse."

It was the first order he had been happy to receive, and Voyager darted out of the star and into normal space. The ship showed signs of the immense abuse it had been asked to take. Sensors mounted on the hull were fused, burned and misshapen. Its lights flickered. The phaser strips had gone dark and useless. The hull, normally a proud bright white, was now a dull gray that had scorched black in irregular shapes.

But if Voyager was bloodied, it was unbowed. It was whole and armed and could make impulse, and it could do what its captain demanded it to do. Virtually the entire crew heaved a sigh of relief when Voyager left the star and proceeded towards the planet.

"Sensor sweep," Janeway ordered. "See if we can find them."

Tuvok cleared his throat. "If we lose the main sensor array, our sensor capacity will be severely degraded." he said. "Our shields are weak and phasers are offline. The ship is functional only in the most basic way. I must recommend against combat operations at this time."

Janeway frowned. "Duly noted, Mr. Tuvok," she said.

Chakotay looked over at her, his eyes straining for any sort of reason in her. "Think this through," he whispered. "We can't see them, we have no phasers, and we can't go to warp. They're in fine shape. If we get into a slugging match, we will lose. Captain, please. "

Janeway turned and eyed him with not an iota of softness in her gaze. "I have thought it through," she said archly. "We are not sitting idly by while a war crime is committed. Scan whatever we can. Set a course for Salim Ru. Maximum impulse." She smiled coldly.

"Course laid in," Paris said tightly.

"They're cloaked," Chakotay said. "We can't detect a cloaked vessel."

"Once they're in the atmosphere we'll be able to detect them," Janeway grinned. "Once they're in the atmosphere, they have to move air. Air in front of them, and air behind them. We can detect that as long as the main sensor array is online. Look for sonic booms, look for moving air masses."

"And if we lose the main sensor array, then we're a sitting duck for when they fire back. Kathryn!"

Harry Kim's voice was strained; he clearly didn't want to say what he was about to.

"There's a moving air mass over the southern pole of the planet. The size is about right."

"That's them," Janeway said. "Photon torpedoes. Full spread. We get one good shot, so let's make it count."

Chakotay stared blankly at her. "Have you lost your mind? We cannot fight them, captain. We're barely functioning as it is."

She turned to him and stared at him with eyes as merciless as any Klingon.

"Mr. Chakotay, you are relieved of duty until further notice. Report to your quarters or I'll have security escort you there."

Chakotay rose, looked around the bridge, sighed, and left without a word.

"I believe you should consider Mr. Chakotay's advice," Tuvok said.

"Mr. Tuvok, you have a choice. You may join Mr. Chakotay, or you may obey orders."

Tuvok seemed miffed. "As always, I will obey your orders."

"Good. Obey this one. Target the air mass...and fire."