IX

The Doctor, now disguised as a Romulan Centurion, which meant he was basically a Crewman, wouldn't draw much suspicion. A D'deridex Class Warbird usually had a crew compliment of fifteen-hundred. Tuvok and Shelby had made an educated guess that there were not that many aboard this ship, but there certainly had to be at least half that many to effectively run the vessel.

The entire layout of the ship had been downloaded into his holographic matrix. It was based on the last known configuration of this type of vessel. According to the schematics, he was one deck below the Bridge, about three hundred meters from what was though to be the Romulan version of the Brig. While a ship the size of Voyager didn't have a lot of Brig space, since it was designed for short missions, a Warbird would probably have dozens of cells for prisoners, and most likely on multiple decks. The Doctor would take his chances.

As he left the area he had beamed into, he walked down the hall toward the aft part of the ship, where the cells were on this deck. So far, the layout was as advertised. The holographic Centurion saw only a few others in the area, to his surprise, some were Human, as well as Romulan. The few he saw pretty much ignored each other, which was fine with him. The less interaction the better. Part of his programming for this mission was the downloading of the Romulan language, both written and verbal, so he was able to read the signs, and would be able to communicate in Romulan if needed.

The sign ahead of him indicated the prison cells were to the right. It was a vast layout, with fifty cells in this section, but there was no sign of Janeway anywhere. He knew he was on a tight schedule, and since he didn't need rest, he headed toward the next section, another five-hundred meters away. That, too, turned up no results.

Accessing his memory, he knew there was at least a half-dozen more areas like this throughout the ship, but he didn't have time to search all that. Then a thought occurred to him. What if she's not in a cell? They said she was their "guest". Could she be in VIP quarters?

Again accessing the schematics of the ship, he was able to determine that VIP quarters, of which, according to the layout, there were at least a dozen, lay three-hundred meters aft of, and on the same deck, as the Bridge. He mapped out the quickest route, sought the nearest turbolift, and headed up to the main level of the Warbird.

Seven, Tuvok, and B'Elanna had finished the work on the program to trigger the cloak on the Romulan Warbird. They tried it quickly twice in the Holodeck, and it had worked, but there was no guarantee it would work in the real world. Tuvok and B'Elanna had then returned to Phantom. Tom was already onboard, getting the ship ready for action. The other two were able to tie the computer program to disable the cloak, into their own weapons array, to fire the moment that ship began to disappear. Since the Qeh couldn't detect Phantom, and Phantom could fire while cloaked, they had an advantage.

It was hoped that The Doctor would find Janeway, and have her ready to beam aboard either Voyager or Phantom when the shields on the Qeh dropped. There was a party of fifty SpecOps forces that Shelby had brought with them in case the Romulan ship had to be stormed.

Now, it was simply a waiting game.

Kathryn Janeway had felt better. She admitted to herself she had felt a hell of a lot worse as well. The roughing up she had received had been more for show, but still hurt like hell, she thought wryly. She also knew if this became a stalemate, she might not live through it. But if it was a choice between her living and Seven, she'd choose Seven. She didn't like either choice, now that they were on their way to reconciling, but Seven had far more of a future than she did. She had made peace with that fact during her confinement.

At the moment, there was no one in her "VIP suite". Under normal circumstances, such VIP accommodations would have been impressive, as they were very impressive quarters, indeed. Obviously, her treatment left something to be desired, but at least they had not deprived her of sleep or food, or clothing. It was still a prison, however.

Having seen Seven and Shelby on the viewscreen, she well knew Voyager wasn't here just to make an exchange of prisoners. She had been mildly surprised that Shelby had been tasked to retrieve her, and Voyager being here was lost on no one. That alone made Kathryn realized The Federation was playing for keeps.

Not being aware of Sloan's demands, she had no idea if other ships were nearby. Her instincts told her that Sloan had demanded only one ship be sent to wherever they currently were. Yet her instincts also told her all wasn't as it might seem. Whether that was a curse or a benefit, Kathryn Janeway wasn't sure at the moment.

"The four hours end in forty-nine minutes", Seven said, checking her chronometer, which was in perfect sync with Shelby's, and those aboard Phantom.

Shelby nodded. "Nineteen minutes until showtime."

"I really hope there isn't much of a 'show', Admiral."

Seven had been serious when saying those words, nonetheless Shelby gave a small smile. "That makes two of us, Seven. Which reminds me." Shelby hit her communicator. "Bridge, Strike team lead."

"Strike lead, go ahead, Admiral?"

"Mr. Marinovich, twenty minutes until insertion."

"Aye, Admiral. We're locked and cocked, but hoping we don't have to be used. But we're ready."

"That's what I like to hear, Commander, Shelby out." Shelby turned back to her First Officer. "Seven, when it's time to execute the cloak and for Phantom to fire, I want you in the Big Chair. You can sense time faster than any of us, and that might be needed."

"Kathryn would have a coronary, seeing me in her old chair", Seven said with some nervous, wry energy.

Shelby couldn't help but chuckle. "Janeway doesn't need a heart attack after what she's been through, We'll make sure you're out of there by the time she's on the Bridge."

Seven nodded, but made no verbal response. She was becoming too nervous for that.

The Doctor had reached the VIP section of the ship. He had been ignored so far, and had run into very few others. As he entered the VIP area he noted two Romulan Centurions flanking one of the doors. He could deduce easily enough what that meant.

He wouldn't try to pull any elaborate scheme here. He would simply present himself to the guards for what he was-someone in the medical profession. Paris had once called it by the acronym KISS: Keep It Simple, Stupid. He hadn't liked the sound of it, but it was a good lesson to remember.

"Halt" one of the guards said in Romulan as he arrived. "Who are you and what is your business here?"

"Centurion Chatet, Medical Assistant. I'm here to give a quick check-up on the prisoner. There's a chance she may be exchanged shortly, and Captain Maxwell wants to make sure she has no underlying injuries."

By their nature, Romulans were very suspicious and paranoid, but The Doctor simply looked at them impassively showing nothing on his face but a look that said, Will you guys just make up your mind and let me do my job?

After a few moments, and a few words between the two guards, they both nodded and let him in, The Doctor seriously hoping there wasn't more than one VIP prisoner on this itinerary.

The door closed behind him, and he gave out a holographic sigh of relieve, seeing Admiral Janeway reading a book, looking up at him with more than a little anger in her eyes. He understood that, approaching her as if he was going to give her a brief physical.

"Oh, you're a new one, I haven't seen you before? Come to rough me up?"

"No", the hologram said. It wasn't his voice, but he hoped his message would help. "I can only tell you the crew of Phantom sends you their regards, Admiral."

That caught Janeway's attention. Her first thought was that Phantom was out here, had been discovered, and the crew held on this ship? "What the hell have you done with that crew?"

The Doctor huffed. "Relax, Admiral", he said calmly. "Haven't I always told you that you shouldn't stress yourself out over things you can't control? You were always my most difficult patient."

Confusion sluiced over Janeway's features at first, then it dawned on her. "Doc...Doctor?"

"Right the first time", he said, pulling out what was a Federation tricorder, but disguised as a similar Romulan device. "A few cuts and bruises, but nothing permanent, I see."

"What's going on, Doctor?"

He knew he had to speak quickly. According to his internal chronometer, he had less than six minutes before the operation began. His timing had to be precise.

"In a few minutes", he said in a whisper, "Voyager is going to engage the Romulan cloak, which will bring their shields down. Phantom will then fire at the ship, disabling the engines, I hope, and making it so they can't disengage the cloak. At that moment, you and I are going to beam to one ship or the other."

"These people are pretty paranoid, Doctor", Janeway warned him. "I think you better start examining me, and being a little rough about it." She held up her hand. "It's all for show, Doctor. Those idiots out there will be in shortly, you know that."

"Very well."

The Doctor did begin a routing evaluation of the Admiral. Heart rate, blood pressure, checking for signs of any deeper injuries. He took his time. Sure enough, about three minutes before all hell would break loose, the two guards entered the room.

"Admiral", he said to Janeway, in broken English, as a Romulan would, "if you would cooperate with us, such things like this wouldn't happen to you. You're a typical human...oh", he said, finally turning as if he had only just realized they had company, "and what do you two want?"

"We're checking in on the prisoner?"

"I'm checking the prisoner", he said roughly in Romulan, "you're supposed to be guarding the door, so why don't you continue doing your job, so I can do mine?"

He looked at them expectantly. He was certain they both blushed slightly, and might have laughed if it was under other circumstances.

"Just don't take too long, Centurion Chatet." They turned on their heels and closed the door loudly, to show their anger at being made fools of.

"OK, Admiral", he said as quietly as possible. "Any time now."

"One minute until Seven engages the program", Tuvok said from the Tactical position on Phantom. Tom was at the helm, while B'Elanna was doubling on Engineering and Ops.

"So the computer will fire the phasers, correct?" Tom was simply making sure he had everything up to speed.

"Correct, Mr. Paris. At that time, it is hoped that the Admiral and The Doctor will materialize onboard here or Voyager. If not, the SpecOps forces will storm the Bridge of the Warbird."

"I prefer the former", B'Elanna said, wanting simply to get things going.

"As do I", Tuvok nodded, looking back at her. "Thirty seconds, stand by."

Seven had taken the Conn at five minutes before go-time. She was familiar with the technology that was on Voyager now-much of it had come from the work she had done on the ship two decades ago. The computer was online, ready to send out a burst transmission to engage the cloak, then fire the phasers from Phantom, with Kathryn and The Doctor beaming to one of the ships. Seven keyed for an all-hands broadcast.

"Attention all hand", she said calmly, "this is Commander Hansen, forty-five seconds. Strike team, prepare to transport on my mark."

There would be no response from anyone on the ship. Had there been a problem, the Transporter Room would advise her. No such advisory was forthcoming.

"On my mark, thirty seconds...mark."