The Colonel

by ray gower

In which Voyagers crew start with a mystery, which becomes deeper and gain a new passenger who proves invaluable...

8. 1-08 Stranded

1-08 Stranded

The Colonel leads a Dilithium mining expedition and finds himself stranded on an un-named planet with unfriendly creatures. Voyager investigates a nebula and runs into it's own difficulties.

Voyager and characters (except the Colonel) in this story are copyright of Paramount. No resemblance is intended to any person alive or dead.

The story line and the Colonel is my own.

Constructive criticism and comments are welcome on e-mail story@rgower.plus.com

Web page: www.thestoryboard.co.uk

If like me you like to know why things occur like they do, I would heartily recommend you start at chapter 1-01 Castaway.

This story is rated PG on the UK sensors ratings

©R Gower 2000

"Review personal log 26357.34," Seven commanded of the console.

She had come to the cargo bay to regenerate her implants. But now the necessary chore was done, she had allowed herself some time to review her personal logs on a problem that had and still was causing her some concern.

"I am still unable to determine the reason for my desire to be in the presence of the Colonel. Lieutenant Torres, has suggested it is 'love', but has failed to provide an acceptable definition, although she also claims to be in 'love'. My personal observations of Lieutenants Torres and Paris relationship suggest that love cannot be my affliction. I have had no desire to strike at the Colonel. I am however informed that Klingon mating rituals are often physical. Lieutenant Paris suggested a cold shower. As a cure, this did not work."

Her own voice was played back to her. This recording was from two months after the Colonel had joined the ship.

"Review personal log 26357.36," she commanded again.

"I have reviewed the medical texts on the subject 'love' but I am still unable to establish a pure definition in relation to the Colonel and my own feelings. The romantic fiction the Doctor recommended are unreliable. However they describe undesirable symptoms of faintness, accelerated heart rate, elevated temperatures, the illogical desire to hold somebody when in their presence. I believe I have been subjected to all of these. They provide no cure."

She still had no answer to the questions she had posed herself ten months ago, and the feelings and 'symptoms' were as strong as ever. It irritated her, she did not like unanswered questions. It showed inefficiency, she scowled at the console she was standing over.

"I don't see you in here very often anymore, Seven. Is there something wrong?" The Captains voice shook her out of her revere.

"I was reviewing my logs, Captain," she answered, slightly embarrassed. "I have found there are a number of questions I have omitted to find answers to."

"What are they, perhaps I can help?" the Captain suggested with a smile, coming closer.

"What is the emotion 'love'? how do people fall in and out of it?" Seven replied.

The Captain whistled. "The tough ones first, eh!"

"If you don't know what love is by now, then you've had us all foxed!" She continued, in amusement.

Seven of Nine looked at her curiously, trying to decide if the Captain was teasing her. Deciding that the Captains grin did not constitute 'teasing' she tried to explain. "The Borg believe that love is a virus, that the physical symptoms are undesirable. Yet I wish to remain in the Colonels presence and continue to experience them!"

"Yes. When your really in love they are and you do. They will subside as you adapt to the condition," the Captain smiled at her.

"But why am I in love?" Seven asked.

The Captain sagged onto a cargo container her face a picture of open mouthed incredulity. "Do you really want an answer? Most of us would be happy just to be in love, and not have to worry about why!"

"I believe so. It may prevent me falling out of love again, like I did when the Doctor tried to split us apart." Seven answered uncertainly.

"You didn't know then and the Doctor failed totally, despite all the technological toys and intimate knowledge he has available. I'd say it would take an event of cataclysmic proportions to split you two apart!" the Captain laughed.

She sighed wistfully, becoming more serious. "I was in love once. But the man I thought I loved made the mistake you are making. He tried to analyse why! We broke up within a week. You have been very fortunate. You seem to have found your perfect partner without having to look and making the mistakes the rest of us do. Take my advice, leave the analysing until after it's over, and hope you never need to!"

"Wat if the situation were to reoccur!" Seven pleaded.

"Then you will have to cope with it as best you can, like the rest of us," replied the Captain. "That is what being human is all about. Learning to cope with the things that change."

"Why does the Colonel still love me? I have proved unreliable," Seven of Nine, tried a new tack.

"He loves you because you are who you are. You love him because he is who he is. Just leave it at that," the Captain advised quickly. "Love is full of traps, if you look for them, you will still fall into one that you didn't see!"

"You sounded like the Colonel," Seven of Nine accused her.

"I suppose I did." The Captain agreed in surprise. "Every time I talk with him, I learn things from a different perspective, or relearn things I had dismissed as unimportant and find they are important after all. I really believe he has had a bigger effect on this ship than we have had on him!" She confessed.

"When I was replacing the Colonel's belongings in our quarters, I found his log," confessed Seven of Nine. "I found a poem in it on the subject of love. I read it."

"Go on!" The Captain was intrigued. The Colonel appeared to be skilled in many unusual things, but original verse seemed unlikely.

Seven closed her eyes, remembering. "It read," she announced.

"How great is my love for thee?

As great as the mountains?

Greater,

As great as the oceans of the world?

Greater,

As great as the sun?

Greater,

As great as the galaxy?

My love for thee is greater than these.

How long will I love thee?

As long as the giant elephant?

Longer,

As long as the mighty redwoods live?

Longer,

As long as there is air to breathe?

Longer,

As long as the stars shine?

My love for thee will last longer than these."

"It's not Shakespear, but it gets its point across. What of it?" The captain asked.

"Can he do that?" Seven asked in a small voice.

Janeway laughed. "On current performance, I'd say the Colonel could do anything he wanted. If somebody proved he couldn't, I wouldn't believe them. You've got something special, accept it."

"Come on, we'd better get back to work," she claimed getting up.

"When will Seven learn to accept what she has is better than anything she or anybody could wish for," she wondered as she continued her rounds.

The Colonel was in deep conversation with the youngest crew member on the ship, Naomi Wildman. At the age of nine, she was the most intelligent child the Colonel had ever met, yet despite this she still had a child's sense of enjoyment. To her that meant talking to the Colonel and teasing him. She liked getting him to tell her stories and teaching her songs, even without the holodeck he seemed to bring them alive in her mind. For his part he enjoyed doing it, he felt that gave him the opportunity to teach her there was more to life than the computers and cold facts that surrounded her. Today she was having him retell her the story of Cinderella.

Finally, when he had finished, she asked in a child's direct way, "Are you Seven of Nine's Prince Charming?"

"I really don't know. I'd like to be!" He admitted, "I think anybody you decide to be in love with will look like Prince Charming."

"Mummy thinks you are, and I do to!" She declared firmly. "She's much nicer than she used to be!"

"Perhaps that's because people are nicer to her!" The Colonel suggested evenly.

"When I grow up, you'll be my Prince Charming! Gallant and brave and so much fun to be with!" She declared earnestly.

"I'll have to tell Miss Nine, she has a rival, for when she turns me out," laughed the Colonel.

He sprang up and bowed deeply to her, "Your eternal and grateful servant Ma'am," he pronounced.

"Now it's nearly lunch time, and your mum will be coming off her shift and I have a luncheon appointment with Cinderella. Let's go down to the mess and meet them," he took her hand.

"Do you remember the little marching song we learnt yesterday? Lets see if you can sing it as far as the mess," he challenged her.

She laughed and sang, as they marched.

Lieutenant Caerey was carrying out maintenance upon a shuttle craft, balancing the shuttles warp engines. It was a delicate but routine activity that he should have been able to carry out with his eyes shut, as he had many times before. Today he found he was unable to concentrate upon the operation and as hard as he might he could not get the drives to correctly align their thrust patterns. His thoughts kept being drawn away to his past on Earth. Like most of Voyagers crew, he was a young man, full of promise when he had been unceremoniously dumped in the Delta Quadrant. Unlike most of the crew, he had been married less than six months when he had signed aboard, his young wife had been pregnant and he kept thinking of the child he had never seen. Was it a boy or girl, he wondered, how was it doing in it's studies. Somehow it seemed more important to him than the delicate operation that he was trying to complete. Eventually he decided he had achieved an acceptable result and slammed the covers shut and left the shuttle bay, head down, towards the mess and his quarters, preoccupied by his thoughts. So preoccupied was he that he walked blindly into Seven of Nine, who was stretching to inspect a power conduit, knocking her to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Seven!" He exclaimed, "I wasn't looking where I was going. Were you hurt?" He added absently. He made no attempt to help her up, but stood gazing blankly at her.

She got to her feet rubbing her elbow, it had taken most of the impact. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I am not seriously damaged," she replied coolly.

"Good!" He replied and continued on his way.

Seven rubbed her elbow again, considering whether to go and see the doctor to have the sting removed from the bruise she could feel forming. In the end she decided not to, it would make her late for lunch with the Colonel. She turned and followed Caerey towards the Mess.

Naomi ran up to her mother as soon as she saw her. "Mommy! The Colonel is going to be my Prince Charming and is going to be my 'eternal servant', when Seven of Nine decides she doesn't want him anymore!"

"I think you could have a long wait," her mother replied, laughing.

The Colonel visibly cringed and blushed deeply, at the laughter in the room.

"Cinderella again?" Samantha Wildeman asked sympathetically.

He grimaced and nodded.

"I think she will have to take her turn behind her mother!" She grinned at him mischievously.

"Seven is not here yet, Colonel," interrupted Neelix nervously, scurrying up and rescuing him from having to reply.

The Colonel glanced at his wrist watch before turning to him. "As I'm a couple of minutes early, I'm not in the slightest surprised."

"In fact here she is, exactly on time, as usual!" He announced, as she entered the room.

"It's one of her many good points," he confided. "Now what's on your mind?"

"I was wondering, if you would put on a concert or something?" Neelix asked deferentially. "To cheer everybody up a little. If you and Seven don't mind and aren't too busy. Everybody keeps saying how they liked your songs at the last dinner," he added quickly.

"We'll consider it," the Colonel promised, "Now what's on the menu?"

He and Seven took their plates to their preferred table in the corner of the room. "What's up?" He asked when they sat down.

"I was knocked to the floor by Lieutenant Caerey. He was not looking where he was going," she said.

The Colonel looked over to the table where Caerey was toying with his food. "Perhaps I ought to go and teach him some manners," he growled.

"There is no need," she said quickly, thinking of what the Colonels idea of teaching manners might involve. "He apologised and I was not damaged. You are due on Holodeck 2 for flight training in 30 minutes," she continued, reminding him of his lessons and rubbing her arm again.

He growled his assent.

"In that case we had better get the undamaged arm you keep rubbing fixed," he suggested.

"I do not wish to see the doctor alone," she protested. She still did not entirely trust the doctor, if she was on her own.

"If it's only a bruise, then perhaps I can do something about it," the Colonel suggested gently.

"You are not medically qualified," she retorted.

"True," he admitted. "But I do know how to treat sprains and bruises. Come on I'll escort you to your quarters, then show you. Besides as you're the instructor today, being a little late won't matter will it!"

He took her gently by her good arm and led her out.

"We need a new supply of Dilithium. Seven's scans have identified several planets that we can try," announced B'Elanna at the staff meeting. "The next leg of the journey looks like a long one and I don't want to run out half way."

The Captain nodded. "There is also what looks like an unusual dark nebula forming that we should observe while we've the chance. We'll do both!"

"How's the Colonel doing with his piloting skills instructions?" Thw Captain turned to Tom Paris.

"I'd say he was doing pretty well now he's not trying to fly it like an aeroplane," Paris announced. "He's not a natural pilot, but he'll be good enough!"

"Good!" Announced the Captain. "Seven, I want to see him in my Ready Room after the meeting."

Seven of None nodded her agreement.

Seven of Nine brought the Colonel up to see the Captain as instructed. 'After a year with the ship he still refuses to step on the bridge without an instruction to do so, those damn regulations of his,' the Captain thought.

He slammed to attention and saluted, as was his practice.

"Stand easy, Colonel!" She smiled. 'Did he ever stop being a soldier,' she wondered, 'is he like that with Seven when they're off duty? '

"Ma'am!" He replied.

"I want you to lead a party to a planet and dig up some Dilithium," she announced.

"The planet Seven has found appears to be the most peaceful place in the Quadrant, so it will kill a number of problems at once," she continued.

"Ma'am?" He questioned

"It will give you an opportunity for hands on piloting, gives the landing party sufficient protection, you can't go to war with anyone, gives you the opportunity to unwind a little in good company and I can spend some time 'star gazing'."

"Ma'am," he responded formally. "Who will be my crew?"

"I was thinking Ensign Wildman, Seven of Nine, Naomi Wildman and Lieutenant Vorik."

"Very good, Ma'am. But may I suggest Lieutenant Caerey, in place of Lieutenant Vorik. And why crewman Naomi Wildman?"

"I think Naomi needs a spell off the ship as well. Why do you want Caerey?" She asked.

"Looking at him, I would say he is under strain at the moment, Ma'am. The records show he's only been off the ship once in the last five years. So he is due some time off," the Colonel stated levelly.

"Vorik hasn't been off the ship that often," she pointed out.

"Vorik is a Vulcan and doesn't notice, Ma'am. Nor did he leave a young pregnant wife for a four week shake down cruise, that's now lasted over five years. I'd say Caerey has a right to be a little depressed," he pointed out. "I'll take both if you like, Ma'am?" He suggested.

"That won't be necessary. I've learnt that trying to negotiate with you will leave me without the shirt on my back. I'd like to pitch you against a Ferengi trader someday," she laughed.

"Very good, Ma'am," he announced impassively. "When do we leave?"

"Tomorrow will be soon enough, so get your equipment together."

"Well ladies and gentleman, thank you for your confidence in flying Learner Air," he announced to his crew the next morning in the shuttle bay. Somebody had painted a large red 'L' on the rear of the type 2 shuttle that was to be their transport, they were looking at it warily. "As you can see Lieutenants Paris and Torres have some doubts about my abilities, and have attached suitable warnings," he said, pointing at the 'L', "The flight will undoubtedly be bumpy, but I promise we will walk away from the crash. If only because I've always done so in the past," he admitted.

"I don't think you'll crash!" claimed Naomi loyally. She was excited, she had never been on a proper away mission.

"Bless you child! He pronounced. Shall we board?"

The shuttle lurched out of the shuttle bay and set course for their target planet, as the Colonel fought with the controls and the impulse to over correct.

"Well the paints intact," announced Ensign Wildman, wishing her stomach was.

"Back in the ides of time when I learnt to fly aeroplanes. My instructor was happy to inform me that takeoffs were easy, it's the landing at the other end that bites," the Colonel happily informed her, as he settled on course.

On the Bridge Captain Janeway waited impatiently for the shuttle to clear the ship. She watched it stagger away. "Well it could have been worse," she opined.

"Aye, he could of crashed in the shuttle bay," suggested Tom Paris, grinning at her.

"Set course for the dark nebula, Tom, Warp 2," Janeway commanded sternly, suppressing her own grin of agreement.

"Aye, Ma'am," he replied turning back to his console. "Estimated time of arrival six hours."

"Good, hail me when we are in position," she demanded, turning for her Ready Room.

Voyager turned away onto it's own course and shot off.

Five hours later the Captain was disturbed by a lurch from the ship and an urgent call from Tuvok. "Captain to the Bridge, Immediate."

"Report?" She demanded as she shot out of the Ready Room.

"We have been caught in an energy stream. Type unknown, Source unknown. Warp Drive and Impulse Engines have failed," Tuvok informed her.

"Thrusters, back us out!" She commanded.

"No effect, Captain," announced Paris his voice rising in alarm. "The stream has caught us, we can only go where it goes."

Janeway stood and stared at the screen in amazement. "Call the shuttle back!" she demanded. "Otherwise they may be stranded by the time we get out of this."

On the shuttle the Colonel was totalling up his flight adjustments, as they approached the planet. He turned to Seven of Nine. "Should I have needed to make this many course adjustments?" he asked, passing her the PADD.

She inspected them, then examined her instruments. "The warp drive is out of line. It is not a serious error, but regular course corrections will need to be made. You may programme them into the flight controls," she informed him, turning to demonstrate.

The shuttle suddenly lurched into a spin. "Stabilisers have failed," the Colonel announced controlling the panic he felt. "Attempting to compensate."

Finally he managed to right the craft, but found that changing course significantly was impossible, the shuttles helm was hard over to keep the small ship on an even keel. "This is not good. Anybody got some ideas, Mr Caerey?"

"We need to get back to Voyager," suggested Caerey, suddenly realising this was the shuttle he had adjusted the previous day.

"That may be a little difficult. I'm maintaining our original heading just. But everything's hard over to do it. I don't want to try and go after Voyager," he advised. "I think a call for help would be acceptable about now, Miss Nine."

They were interrupted by Tuvoks own message. "Voyager to Away Team."

"Go ahead Commander," Seven answered for the Colonel, as he continued to battle with the controls.

"We have lost propulsion and are being dragged in an energy stream. Adjust heading for immediate return to Voyager," Tuvok advised.

"That will not be possible," she replied evenly, "We are experiencing difficulties of our own. Lateral stabilisers have failed. We are experiencing difficulties holding course."

"Hold on chaps, we are going in!" The Colonel announced, as the shuttle started to bounce on the atmosphere.

"Miss Nine, can you control the thrust? I daren't let go of the directional controls or I'll lose it totally," he announced, calmly amidst the buffeting. "I want to lose speed, a lot of speed. Damn I wish these things had real flight controls!"

"I have thrusters," Seven announced. "You need to increase attitude to 30º to safely navigate the stratosphere."

Carefully the Colonel complied. Three times the shuttle lurched trying to enter a spin again, each time he caught it, levelling the shuttle out again.

"Everybody still with us?" he called, as the buffeting subsided as they entered the lower atmosphere.

Reluctantly everybody agreed.

"Good! Because at this attitude and speed we will bury ourselves a good 200 feet below the surface and there isn't enough control to level out."

He glanced at Seven of Nine. She was sitting stiffly poised over her control panel, still controlling the thrust. To her credit only her tenseness betrayed the nerves she must be feeling, he decided. He was going to make her a lot more nervous. "How aerobatic are these things?" He asked quietly.

"Type 2 shuttles are fully manoeuvrable!" She replied, carefully looking back at him. "Why do you ask?"

"Never mind, if we survive I'll tell you. In the mean time, get everybody strapped in tight, then do exactly as I request on the power."

She looked around, everybody was holding their seats. She could sense their fear, it more than matched her own. That at least was a comfort. "Restraints activated," she announced, pressing buttons on the console.

The Colonel felt the force field pulling him into his seat. "Hold tight!" he called needlessly, letting the ship dive forward.

"Cut power!" He yelled as the shuttle approached a 90º dive. He continued to fight the controls as the shuttle continued its outside loop. Gradually it levelled out, now upside down. "Now, Power, More Power!" He yelled, allowing the shuttle to roll back to it's normal attitude.

"Okay!" He announced, allowing himself to calm down, "We have a nominal landing attitude. You may reduce power again, Miss Nine. Can anybody please tell me where we are?"

Seven of Nine, recovering quickly, reduced power to the shuttles engines and studied the instruments. She had watched in alarm as the Colonel had pushed the shuttle into a loop, and had merely reacted to his shouted commands, silently complying as they were given. She now took a deep breath to steady her own nerves before replingl "We are approximately 80 kilometres from and heading towards our original landing site. Altitude 200 Metres, velocity 700 KPH."

"What was the manoeuvre you carried out, it is not an approved Star Fleet action?" She demanded.

"I dare say it isn't," he said more brightly than he felt. "The Air Force had a name for it, and it was strictly frowned on then as well. Too many hot shots drove into the ground trying to perform it. Now can you bleed enough speed for us to land near our initial site?"

She rapidly responded, but the shuttle was still doing over 150 KPH when the Colonel 'pancaked' it to the ground. "Hold on," He yelled, unnecessarily as it skipped and bounced across the earth. It came to a halt 400 metres after touch down, it's nose crunched on a rock. Silence reigned inside for a few minutes as the occupants struggled to regain their wits.

Finally the Colonel struggled from his seat, numbly. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your Captain speaking. Thank you for flying Army Air. I hope you enjoyed your flight and will consider travelling with us again!" He opened the door, stepped out and collapsed in a retching heap.

Samantha Wildman was the next to recover, desperately she grabbed her daughter and staggered after the Colonel.

"How is she?" The Colonel croaked, crawling over towards her.

"She's unconscious, but I don't think there's anything else," Wildman announced. "Should I congratulate you on a good crash, or kill you for stranding us here?" She added viciously.

"Neither would be appropriate," answered Seven of Nine, stepping off the shuttle as if 100 mile per hour landings in a shuttle were a normal landing pattern for a shuttle. "The shuttle underwent a series of catastrophic failures. They must be analysed before blame is proportioned."

The little display of bravado impressed the Colonel. He did not believe for a moment it was true, he had seen her look of horror as he had performed the outside loop. It buoyed up his own confidence.

Caerey was the last off. He stumbled towards the Colonel. "Colonel, I think the accident may have been my fault," he whispered. "I carried out the warp drive balancing that caused the instability!"

The Colonel turned to him, recovering his normal attitude. "At the moment I don't give a damn," he replied. "For the time being I'm happy that we are still alive and generally unhurt. What I do with you in the future," he paused, "depends upon how quickly you get that shuttle working again!"

"You're mad!" Caerey exclaimed hotly. "It's smashed. It'd take months in the shuttle bay to fix!"

The Colonel smiled at him. Caerey didn't like the smile, there was no humour in it. "Yes, I'm mad. I'm also in command, so forget Star Fleet rules and regulations. You have until tomorrow noon to come back and tell me how you are going to make the shuttle air-worthy. You are an engineer, live up to it and get inventive."

Seven approached him cautiously. "He is unlikely to succeed, the ship is extensively damaged," she pointed out.

"Maybe. But we will have wait and find out. In the mean time try and get a comm's link to Voyager working. I'll get Ensign Wildman started on the exploration work, and I'll start setting camp."

She looked at him, he was showing another facet of his nature, a survivalist and callous one. One that she wasn't sure she liked.

On the bridge of Voyager, they looked at each other silently, stunned at the report they had received from Seven of Nine. They had overheard the Colonel calling, "Hold on chaps, we are going in!". Since they had heard nothing, imagination was gripping them.

Finally Tuvok broke the silence. "The shuttle has entered the planets atmosphere, I am unable to regain communications! Captain."

She snapped her attention back to the here and now. "Conference call in two hours. I want idea's and they had better be good ones!" She announced heavily. She turned for her ready room, feeling tears sting her eyes.

Chakotay followed her, sensing her despair.

"They're not dead yet, Kathryn," he tried to assure her.

"Even an expert pilot couldn't get out of what they are going through and the Colonel is not an expert! They were on a collision course with a planet, A planet I sent them too so that I could watch stars, what else should I believe?"

"You could believe in 'Colonel the survivor'," Chakotay suggested gently holding out a crumb of comfort. "From everything we know of him, the more highly stacked the odds against him, the better he survives. Besides, we have our own problems that need fixing before we can go and find them."

She turned towards them, the tears bright in her eyes. "The Colonel once declared that exploring stars was a game to me, I did it for the kicks," she sniffed. "Well this is a game I'm not enjoying anymore, it's hurting." She buried her head in Chakotay's shoulder, in a rare display of emotion.

"The Colonel would also say, no pain no gain," he said placing an arm around her, pulling her close.

"But who's pain?" She asked, realising her position, straightening up and forcing herself to recover. "Get Tuvok to try and enhance long range scans and scan the planet, see if we can find the wreckage!"

"Yes, Captain," Chakotay replied, a trace of a smile playing on his lips. It was rare that his Captain needed such close comforting.

"They will survive, because they have the Colonel, Kathryn. We will because we have you! Believe in it, I do." He left.

"We have several problems," Janeway announced to her staff meeting. She ticked them off for clarity. "One, we are stuck in this energy stream and can't get out. Two, we have no power for warp engines or impulse drive. Three, we have crew members stranded on a primitive planet and they need our help. Now how do we handle it?"

They sat and watched each other in silence. Finally Torres spoke up, dreading what she had to say, "I can't do anything with the engines, until we get out of the energy ribbon, it absorbs everything as soon as we create it!"

"Thrusters aren't man enough to make headway," pointed out Paris. "We may have to live with the stream until it throws us out!"

"How long can the Away Team live on the Planet?" asked Kim.

"They took seven days rations and they have a portable replicator," replied Tuvok. "But we do not know if they survived the crash, how badly injured they may be or the limit of the damage."

"Nor have you counted upon the Colonels abilities to survive in a wild area, it's his natural environment," Chakotay pointed out quickly.

"I'll accept no suggestions that they didn't survive, until it can be proven," Janeway declared stubbornly. "Tuvok, have you calibrated the sensors to examine the planet."

"Yes, Captain. There is no positive sign of a crash site. But I cannot obtain the resolution required to get an accurate scan."

"Good, then we will assume they are alive."

They were interrupted by an excited Ensign Carver bursting through the door.

"Ensign, you are not permitted to enter the conference room during a senior staff meeting," Tuvok scolded sternly.

"I, I'm sorry Sir, but we have picked up a communication from the planet. I believe it's Seven of Nine. We're trying to enhance it, but it's very garbled. We would like help to try and decode it!"

"Harry, B'Elanna go to it!" Janeway could hardly contain her relief.

They ran onto the bridge. Gallantly Kim and Torres struggled with the message they were receiving, finally crying in triumph as Seven of Nine's voiced echoed onto the Bridge.

"Away Team to Voyager, respond!"

"We're still trying to respond, Captain!" Kim warned her. "I'm trying a simple ping response!"

"Got her!" He exclaimed, in relief. "It's not the best signal, but we can make contact for the time being, Captain."

"Janeway here. Report!" The Captain said slowly and clearly.

Seven's relieved voice came back. "The shuttle is severely damaged. Lieutenant Caerey is attempting to discover the probability of repair. Ensign Wildman is scanning for Dilithium. The Colonel is setting camp. We are undamaged."

"How did you survive?" Asked the Captain incredulously.

"I do not know," Sevens voice floated back. "The Colonel performed an un-approved aerobatics manoeuvre to bring the shuttle down intact. He is very resourceful." Even from the crackling response she sounded impressed.

The voice changed to the Colonel. "I'm sorry Ma'am, for not obeying your last instructions, but we've had a few problems of our own! We're just sorting them out. I believe you have a few of your own?"

"How did you survive the crash?" The Captain asked again.

"Captain, we didn't crash! The definition of a good landing is any landing that you walk away from, remember?" The Colonel protested.

She forced away the smile of relief, the Colonel was being the Colonel. If he was like that then things there were not insurmountable. "Okay, but how are you going to get off again?"

"It depends how inventive Lieutenant Caerey is," he responded. "I'm afraid I bent something when we landed, so we might need help. In the mean time we'll mine the required Dilithium."

"We can't get back for a while," the Captain warned. Briefly she went over the Voyagers predicament.

The Colonel was silent for a moment. "Very well, I'll keep the kettle on for your arrival."

He was silent for a moment, then came back again. "Forgive me for being a Caveman, Ma'am. But I once went white water rafting. To get out of the current you paddled like fury aiming for an outside bend."

"So?" The Captain asked curiously.

"The thing is. You paddle with the fastest current to get out, not across it!" His voice came back. The link was lost.

I am unable to regain contact, Captain, Tuvok announced calmly.

Tom Paris slammed the console in front of him. "Of course!" he exclaimed.

The Captain looked at him curiously. "Tom?" she asked.

"I'm sorry, Captain. But I've been using the thrusters to try to counter the stream. What the Colonel suggested was to use the stream to push us into calmer waters," he explained breathlessly.

The light of dawn shone on the Captain. "Do it! Tuvok map the stream pass it on to Tom." she demanded. "And Tom find us a safe bank, on the right shore, I want them back!" she added.

"Captain!" they replied, in unison.

Dark was gathering on the Planet and the Colonel called his team together around a lamp he had put on the ground.

"This is the situation," he started when they had settled. Briefly he described the situation Voyager was in as had been described to him.

"To sum up, we are on this planet for at least another couple of weeks, possibly longer, unless Mr Caerey can pull some thing together out of the wreckage. My intention is to work for a long term stay but hope that it is shorter."

"What about food?" Asked Ensign Wildman. "The replicator can't provide everything for that long."

"I'm not worried about food," he answered happily. "Don't forget, although I know next to bugger all about space and Voyager, I used to live in places like this. A lot of them were a whole lot less friendly. There is more food here than you can shake a stick at. Naomi and I'll find some of it tomorrow. In the mean time: Lieutenant Caerey will continue to create a working shuttle. You Ensign, will continue to grub out Dilithium. Miss Nine, I need you to plan out and produce what we need from the replicator and try and regain contact with Voyager. When Mr Caerey gets the shuttle working again, they will need the Dilithium and we'll need to know where to go!"

"Any questions, have I missed anything?" He asked.

There were no takers.

"That only leaves security," he suggested. "I know this looks like a safe place. But we do not know what there is here and I'm not taking the risk. We will each do six hours watch during the night on rota. I'll do tonight's. Mr Caerey will follow, then Miss Nine and Ensign Wildman. Any complaints?"

Again no comment was made.

"Okay. Tomorrow is going to be a hard day. I suggest you all turn in."

They all turned towards their accommodation. The Colonel had erected three tents, which he had pitched in a row. Samantha and Naomi Wildman took the centre one. Naomi turned before she entered, "We will go back to Voyager? Promise," she asked.

The Colonel looked at her. "We will get back, sooner or later, Scouts honour!" He promised.

She nodded, happily accepting his promise, and entered her tent.

"Seven, how long can you go without regenerating your implants?" He asked quietly. "I know you can handle a week and probably a fortnight, but we could be here for much longer than that!"

"I do not know," she answered. "Drones have been known to live for many months without regeneration, but my implants have been adapted, they may not last as well."

The Colonel nodded. "When working out the replicator requirements, find a method of re-energizing your implants," he suggested. "We may not be able to regenerate you properly, but perhaps we can prevent them breaking down. I need you too much to let that happen."

He pulled her into an embrace and kissed her gently.

"Why are you so insistent on completing the mission?" She asked from his shoulder.

"The first rule of survival is to have a goal, simply surviving isn't enough. If they're allowed to stop and think, they will see the situation as hopeless and stop trying. If I force them to carry on as normal then they won't think," he said quietly.

She pulled away, "You think the position is hopeless?" She asked pointedly.

"Not while I'm still breathing," he announced. "But it may take a little more time than people realise. Besides this is a beautiful place, I could get to quite like it, especially as the only thing I truly value is here as well." He smiled and winked at her in the light of the lamp. "Now go on to bed."

He got up and walked a little way from the camp and sat down, weapon on his lap. He pulled his flute from his jacket and started to play softly.

Seven watched him go, then turned to her own tent. Listening to the music, as he played, she fell to sleep.

Sunrise came up. The Colonel seeing no danger in the morning light, walked to the top of a knoll about a mile from the camp and scanned the surrounds with his set of binoculars. To the north he could see a rolling plain, more than twenty miles away. Even from that distance he could see creatures moving, but not make out what they were. He noted it for investigation in the days to come, hoping for the possibility of meat. To the south and west they were surrounded by a dark forest. It approached within three miles of the camp. Another possible place for food. Then squinting his eyes he looked east, past the camp. About a mile beyond there was a river, he could see it glitter in the morning light. Beyond that were more rolling hills with bushes sprouting at random. He could see nothing moving. He moved back to the camp studying the ground closely.

He arrived to find that Naomi and her mother were up and about.

"Tea, Colonel?" The Ensign asked, gently.

"Another Princess," he announced, accepting the proffered mug gratefully and sitting down. Naomi giggled.

"I want to apologise for what I said yesterday," she announced. "It was superb flying to get us down in one piece, but I was scared for myself, Naomi, everybody!"

"You only voiced what I was thinking," he assured her.

"Will we get off this planet?" She asked, seeking his eye's.

"Yes!" he said. "But it may take time," he added honestly.

Seven of Nine appeared from her tent, blinking sleepily. To be met by the Colonel holding another mug. "You may need this," he suggested softly. She took it and grimaced as the hot steaming tea scolded her throat.

"There was no danger?" She asked.

"Everything gave us a wide berth," he admitted. "But I saw what looked a little like wolf tracks over that way this morning and a couple I didn't recognise."

Caerey emerged in his turn. Together they ate a quiet breakfast.

"Okay folks," announced the Colonel, when he was happy everybody had finished. "We all have our tasks to do, lets get on with them!"

"Come on Naomi. We're going to find dinner!" He held out his hand to the little girl, who took it happily. Together they walked out of the camp.

"He doesn't think we will get away from here, does he Seven?" Samantha Wildman asked Seven of Nine directly, as the Colonel left with Naomi.

Seven looked at her. "He believes everything he says, he also believes in everything he does. He does not believe in failure," she answered quietly.

"And what do you believe?" Asked Caerey, pointedly.

"I believe in him," she replied firmly. "I have duties to perform," she added, getting up and walking towards the shuttle.

The party dispersed.

On Voyager things were progressing. Paris had eased the ship into the fastest currents he could find and was struggling to hold a course in the centre of the stream whilst still keeping the ship pointing in the right direction. Bucking and bouncing, it sped up. The ride was rough, so far it had lasted six hours. As soon as the buffeting had started Janeway had ordered the crew to collision status. Tuvok and the damage crews were being kept busy as the ship itself creaked and twisted under them. Those that weren't engaged in continued repair clung to anything they could find.

"Structural integrity down to 20%, Captain," shouted Kim in alarm from his station. "We can't take much more before we break up!"

"How much longer, Tom?" She had to shout to make her self heard above the groaning ship.

"Nearly there, just a minute or two," he yelled.

Klaxons sounded. "We have lost part of the outer hull," announced Tuvok. "Section 12, breach is imminent."

"Evacuate decks 10 to 13," Chakotay ordered.

"Tom, we're out of time, get us out of here!" The Captain yelled.

Paris hit the thrusters to steer the ship into calmer 'waters'.

"It's working, Captain!" He yelled as the vessel rocketed towards the edge of the stream.

The ship came to a halt in an eddy and the ship stopped creaking.

"We're still 500 Metres from the edge of the stream," advised Tuvok from his station.

"Applying full thrusters, Captain," Paris announced, predicting the next command. Slowly Voyager struggled out of the energy stream. A final shudder heralding its release, then peace.

"I want a full damage report," the Captain shouted. Suddenly she realised the silliness of shouting in the silence, she blushed, then in a more normal voice added. "That was some ride!"

Reports started to come in.

"Eighteen crew injured, three seriously. Structural integrity down at 15%. Sensors are out. Warp Engines are dead, Impulse engines are severely damaged. No weapons or shields. Almost every thruster is burnt out. Deck 12 is uninhabitable," Chakotay read from the screen at his side. "I think that is the closest we've been to being destroyed for a long time," he commented.

"But we're still in one piece," the Captain pointed out.

"Tuvok, concentrate on getting the sensors operational and finding a way of talking to the Away Team, they're going to know where we are," she ordered.

"Captain," Tuvok responded impassively.

"Bridge to Engineering," she called.

"Torres here, Captain," came the shaken reply.

"How quickly can we have power? I want to go and get the Away Team back!"

"Forget warp engines, they're totally drained," she answered. "We're working on the impulse drives, but it's going to take at least two days. We're still looking for all the bits. We should have main power in about six hours though!"

The Captain sat back defeated, her initial elation for having survived the stream, replaced with resignation for her away team. At least six hours until they found out where they were, plus a few more to contact the away team. Heaven knew how long it would take to get back to the away team on impulse drive alone. All she could do was wait.

"Are we really going to find food here?" Naomi asked as she and the Colonel walked towards the river he had seen earlier.

"I think it is a distinct possibility. There is animal life here, they have to eat something don't they. It might look a little different to what we're used to. But looking around, I don't think it is going to be that strange. So all we have to do is find it," he smiled encouragingly at her.

"How will we know it's safe to eat?" She asked looking around at the unfamiliar foliage.

"That's why your here, Duck," the Colonel replied, slipping into his colloquial English. "You can use a tricorder better than I can. So you'll scan the items I think are probably good and tell me if I'm right."

"But how will you know if it's probably good to eat?" She persisted.

The Colonel sighed and stopped and knelt by the girl. "You have been taught on the ship, all about cells and the physics of how things live and grow, right?"

She nodded.

"At your age, I was taught that God put all things on Earth," he started. "Everything he created had a value in sustaining him. When I grew up, I found that the idea had real potential, because I found that almost everything does have a value, even the most repulsive. Now this place is remarkably Earth like, so I don't think the differences are going to be extreme, after all the Earth has some really strange creatures of it's own. All we have to do is identify what sort of thing it is we are looking at, then what parts of it are edible."

"I'll give you an example," he offered, seeing her face cloud with confusion. "You see the tall purple flower there, the one that looks like a tube," he pointed to a tall tubular flower a couple of feet from where they were resting. "That reminds me of a plant I saw in the jungles of Borneo. You were taught that insects pollinate flowers by taking the nectar and picking up pollen on their skin, which they deposit in another flower, right?"

Again she nodded.

"I believe that gentleman, doesn't do that. I think the tube contains water to catch unwary insects, which it feeds on. That tells me two things. One, the soil somewhere near isn't very good for growing things and two, if I'm thirsty enough I can have a drink!" He grabbed it, pulling it out of the ground and tipped it into his cupped hand. His hand caught several insects and clean water poured through his fingers. She gasped in amazement.

"Now this chap here," he continued, pointing at one of the unfortunate victims of the flower. "Looks remarkably like a bumble bee. Remembering our story of Winnie the Pooh, what do bees make?"

"Honey!" She yelled.

"Correct," he laughed. "So there is a beehive somewhere near. Shall we continue on our way?"

They reached the river shortly after. The Colonel examined it and the banks carefully. It was about 10 feet across and about four feet deep at the edges, rocks broke the surface and caused it babble peacefully, reeds lined the bank. The Colonel sighed appreciatively. "I was afraid it was going to be a fully fledged river," he admitted. "A brook like this is much better."

"Why?" Naomi asked.

He smiled at her. "You have to work to get things out of a river. From a brook things can't escape so easily. I think we shall have fish for supper!"

To her surprise he slipped out of his jacket and shirt and laid down at the edge of the bank.

"Now if there is a trout in this river. He'll be here, in the shade of the bank on the outside of a bend," He explained softly. "Now if I lay down here and put an arm in like this, whilst waving my fingers like reeds, we can ease our hand around him thus and hey presto!" So saying the Colonel rolled quickly away, throwing something silvery well clear of the bank.

Quickly he got up, went to the thrashing fish, picked it up by the tail and smacked it hard against a nearby rock.

"As I said, a trout," he claimed proudly, showing her the silver fish.

She clapped in excitement.

"Now run the tricorder over it and I'll see about catching some more," he said. "Then we can see about vegetables to go with them."

They spent another two hours by the stream. Finally they put their haul together, it came to nine fish totalling about 9 lbs, some onions, water chestnuts and something the Colonel found that tasted like cabbage. "I think that will do for the time being, we might find some more on the way back," he said at last.

Cutting several stout cane like reeds, he fashioned two yokes and hanged their goods from them.

"If you put this over your shoulder, like this," he said, placing the shorter pole on her shoulder. "You'll be able to help me carry our goods home and won't spend the rest of the day smelling of fish."

They set off with the Colonel leading the way.

They arrived at the camp site in time for lunch.

"How are you doing with the shuttle Lieutenant?" The Colonel asked after they finished eating.

"Both engines are damaged, but the hull is sound," announced Caerey.

"Can you make a good engine from the two? Will the ship fly on a single engine?" The Colonel asked.

"If I can produce a good engine, in theory it ought to work, I suppose," Caerey admitted uncertainly. "But we would have to lose as much weight as possible."

"Do it!" The Colonel ordered.

"How about the Dilithium, Ensign?"

"I've found the deposit, but we'll have to dig it out. It's about 5 metres below the surface," she announced.

"I'll help you dig this afternoon," said the Colonel.

"Now, communications and power systems, Miss Nine?"

"I have repaired the transmitter, but I am unable to raise Voyager. I am assembling a solar generator for power," she reported.

"They may be too far away. If they took my advice, they may have gone a long way before they could get out of the stream," the Colonel suggested gently.

"They may also have been destroyed," responded Caerey through gritted teeth.

The Colonel ignored the remark. "All in all a reasonably successful morning. Keep it up and we'll be back on Voyager inside a week," he announced cheerfully.

"Naomi, those berries you found. Trot them out please, Duck!" He called.

"I missed these," he admitted.

"What are they?" Asked Seven examining the green and yellow encased fruit suspiciously.

"They appear to be very similar to Lychees," he said. "They certainly taste like them. If you peel the leathery skin off them, there is a really pleasant, sweet and juicy fruit inside. Just right to relite the taste buds after a ration biscuit. Watch out for the stone in the middle though and don't eat too many at a go or you'll end up with the trots."

Everybody tried one, then finding them as pleasant as the Colonel had claimed, took a handful for later consumption.

He set them to work again. Seven returned to her generator. Caerey to try and build a working engine. Naomi he set to work to collect wood for a fire, warning her not to enter the woods. He himself picked up a pick axe and shovel and followed Samantha Wildman to her prospective Dilithium source.

Reaching it she marked out the area she wanted dug, while he stripped his shirt off again.

As he dug, she admired his rippling muscular body.

"You've done a lot of digging, Colonel?" She asked at length, as he powered a shovel full of earth from the hole that was rapidly forming around him.

"It's a core ingredient in being a soldier, learning to dig in. The quicker you can bury yourself the better the chances of surviving when things get unpleasant," he claimed, moping his brow with his forearm, leaving a muddy streak.

"You like this planet, don't you, Colonel?" She accused, passing a water flask to him.

"I've lived in far worse places," the Colonel admitted, taking a swig and returning the flask. "In many ways it reminds me of some of the nicer places on Earth. Perhaps we ought to give it a name, 'fourth planet of the system G57452' seems so impersonal. Maybe Naomi can think of one for us," he suggested, returning to his digging.

Eventually he hit rock. He straightened his back painfully. "I think we'll need those phasor drills now," he announced.

Samantha Wildman nodded, impressed, he had been working for nearly five hours without a break and had dug a hole nearly ten feet deep and five feet across. "That's an impressive hole," she assured him. "I didn't think it possible as quick as that."

"It's easy soil to dig in, once you hit your stride," he explained. "Goodness is that the time," he exclaimed looking at the sun, "We've dinner to prepare, the rest can wait until tomorrow. Come on, or the rest will think we've eloped!"

"If only I could prise you away from Seven of Nine!" She laughed, following him back to camp.

The Colonel excelled himself with their dinner. He baked the fish and water chestnuts in the fire he built from Naomi's wood gathering and served them with the other vegetables he had found during their walk that morning, all topped with a fruit sauce made from the lychees.

"I think we have proved another of the Colonels many hidden talents," voted Samantha Wildman smacking her lips in appreciation. "Are you sure Naomi and I can't tempt you away from Seven, we would really like to have a man who can cook!" She added mischievously.

The Colonel looked up from the reed he was working on with his pocket knife, in time to see a flash of irritation cross Seven of Nine's face. "Not even remotely, I am quite happy with Miss Nine, thanks" he assured her cheerfully. He put the reed to his mouth and blew a short tune on it. "Perfect," he announced. "But it's a bit small for my shovels. Here Naomi, you were playing my flute the other day, try this, it's more your size," he handed the the girl the newly created flute.

She took it giggling, holding it as he had taught her the and put it to her own small mouth and blew. Nothing came out.

"You need to blow very gently," he assured her. "It'll be a little more difficult to play at first and sound a little deeper than my flute because it's wooden not metal. Try again!" He encouraged her.

She tried and came out with a long mellow tone. "Good! Now try the tune I taught you!" He continued.

Haltingly she played 'Friar Jack'. "Now try a little faster," he suggested gently. "Excellent, a real musician in our midst!" He laughed

Samantha Wildman laughed and clapped at the new talent her daughter had acquired from the Colonel. "I'll never stop her playing it," she exclaimed, as Naomi gathered confidence and played faster.

"Good!" Announced the Colonel. "There is more to being an efficient student than straight study. I hope she continues to enjoy playing it. Now lets see if her mother can keep the family tradition and sing to it as well!" He smiled.

"And you two," he called to Seven of Nine and Lieutenant Caerey. "We may as well make it into a full round," he announced, pulling out his own flute and joining in. They responded, embarrassed at first, but started to garner encouragement by the end.

The Colonel led them through the song faster and faster until they lost the plot and collapsed in laughter. Leaving Seven of Nine still singing. He turned to her. "I know you believe that this sort of thing is an inefficient use of time and so on," he said. "But I also know the Doctor has taught you to sing, and he claims you have a lovely voice. For once I'm inclined to agree with him. I also know that amongst the boring clap trap of opera he thinks he likes, he taught you 'Ave Maria'. If I play, will you sing for us, please?" He implored.

"Please, Seven?" begged Naomi.

Seven stiffened. "I shall comply," she stated, flushing. She had been feeling left out with the Colonels attentions being lavished on Naomi and her mother.

"Good," he announced. "Just give me a moment to remember the tune, then start whenever you like."

He played her in. Everybody listened captivated. Her voice to his ears at least was delightful.

"What was the tune you were playing last night, Colonel?" asked Caerey, warming to the entertainment, when she had finished.

"It was the tune to Psalm 23. It's restful, it helps me think," the Colonel admitted.

"That's in your bible," exclaimed Naomi, "Will you sing it too!"

"Please do!" The rest of the party chorused.

"It belongs to a different age, it may not work for you as it does for me!" the Colonel warned, he sang it for them.

Naomi came in on her new flute, almost perfectly, after the first verse.

"That girl is too clever for her own good," the Colonel thought as he sang.

After that they sang for a little longer, until the Colonel called time.

"You're on guard tonight Mr Caerey," he reminded the lieutenant. "There are some large creatures about, but the fire should keep them at bay. If they come, expect them from the direction of the woods," he warned. "Good night!"

"I'm afraid I've neglected you this evening, Seven," the Colonel apologised as he prepared for bed, stripping to his shorts. "For that I'm most terribly sorry."

"You were trying to make them forget we are marooned," Seven accused him as he lay down on the floor beside her.

"It was that obvious?" The Colonel asked.

She sighed, as was his custom he wouldn't use her bed, or cuddle her uninvited. She found it frustrating. "Yes!" She said simply. She moved and cuddled up to him.

"At the moment. I'm even more worried about how long I can keep them happy and comfortable than I am about keeping you going," he explained in a whisper. "I believe you are more adaptable than they are. You are less likely to panic or give up."

"How is your solar plant going?" He asked, kissing her gently and sliding an arm around her.

"It is complete. I can connect to it and recharge my implants. It is an imperfect solution, I cannot regenerate properly," she whispered back, snuggling closer.

"But you can survive and that is the important thing," he said, holding her as they fell to sleep.

For Voyager the day had progressed badly. Partial main power had been restored, but the demands placed upon it were proving too much too quickly, it heralded a whole string of power 'brown outs', that plunged the ship into darkness.

"I need it to get impulse engines on line, else we don't go anywhere," demanded Torres.

"I need power to enhance Astrometrics, or else we will not know where to go," announced Tuvok.

"We need power to repair structural integrity, or we'll fall apart if we try to move," pointed out Kim.

Janeway sighed at the argument that raged around her.

"Enough all ready!" she commanded, her temper rising to match her frustration. "We also need it for weapons, communications, replicators and everything else on the ship! We have faced problems like these before. Why are they so problematical now?" She demanded.

"Your list of priorities is more than the ships power can handle, Captain," announced Tuvok. "We must concentrate on Astrometrics, so that we can find the Away Team."

"We need engines to get back to them," started Torres.

Janeway held up her hand to stem the arguments.

"Tuvok can we still track the energy ribbon?" She asked.

The tacit Vulcan nodded.

"B'Elanna, how quickly can you get the ship moving at all and generating more power?"

"A day, maybe eighteen hours," she admitted.

"Do it," she commanded.

"Kim, reinforce structural integrity, while we're waiting, so that we can move. We can then follow the stream until Tuvok gets the long range sensors operational," Janeway finished. "You've got your instructions now do it and don't bother me with things you should be able to sort out yourselves!"

Chakotay looked at her sharply over the outburst.

"I think you need to rest, Captain," he suggested gently. "You've been sat there for over 24 hours, you need a break. I'll keep them working," he promised.

"I can't sleep. It's my fault they're stranded," she muttered.

He smiled at her. "Perhaps you should try what I do in these situations, meditate!"

Chakotay handed her a small red hard back book. "The Colonel gave this to me," he said, "when we compared our beliefs. It's not Leonardo but it's what he believed in, so perhaps it will help?" He said, referring to her holographic mentor.

She took it and smiled weakly at him. "Let me know the minute we're underway," she announced, walking to her Ready Room.

As she sat down on the sofa in her quarters, book on her lap, she remembered the prayer the holographic padre and offered at the Colonels Ball. She said it quietly to herself, with a few small changes:-

"Eternal Father,

Help me guide your lost flock, aboard the USS Voyager.

Protect her and her crew with your mighty hands.

So that I may guide them home, that they rejoin their families in joy.

This we ask in Jesus's name.

Amen."

For the first time in her life she sat and started to read a Bible. Eventually she drifted to sleep.

The night passed peacefully again on the planet for the Away Team.

"There were some snuffling noises during the night," Caerey reported to the Colonel as he emerged from his tent. "But I saw nothing."

The Colonel nodded an acknowledgement. Whilst the team were consuming breakfast he examined the ground around the camp, then walked up to the knoll he had used the previous day as a vantage point and looked around again. "Everything appears as it did yesterday," he thought. He was about to put the binoculars away, when he noticed a purple blotch that had appeared in the North, near the herd of what he assumed were cattle. He examined it carefully, trying to make out what the blotch was. In the end he was satisfied that it presented no immediate danger. He rejoined his crew for the completion of breakfast.

"How is your engine patching going?" The Colonel asked Caerey.

"I didn't think it possible, but I can do it!" He announced with confidence. "With Seven of Nine's help I should have it ready for testing in two days!"

"Very good. Keep on it. Any problems?" The Colonel asked.

"Yes. We will have to minimise the weight and it will not be fast," Caerey admitted.

"Keep up the good work," the Colonel ordered.

They broke up again as they had the day before, each to their own duties.

"Captains Personal Log," Janeway ordered of the console in her room.

"Finally, after sixteen hours concentrated effort, we have the ship underway at quarter impulse. Long range scans have identified our position and the power situation has improved. But it will take at least fourteen days to get close enough to pick up the Away Team, or gain the Dilithium we need to get the warp engines online and weapons working."

"Repairs to the communications array are in hand, but we don't know if or when we will be able to contact them. My only hope is that they can remain in good health until we can get there."

"I read part of the Colonels bible. If I look for the meaning behind the words then I can see much to help me come to terms with my own thoughts. I now understand why the Colonel carry's one and what inspired Leonardo De Vinci," she added.

Her communicator bleeped. "Tuvok to Captain," it announced.

"Janeway here," she replied.

"We have contact with the Away Team, Captain."

"I'll be right there," she leapt from her chair and ran onto the bridge.

"It's Seven of Nine, Captain," announced Tuvok, from his station.

"Put her on!" Janeway drawled.

"Seven, it's good to hear from you again," she announced, more calmly than she felt.

"The feeling is mutual, Captain," came Seven of Nines calm voice.

"What is your situation?" Janeway asked.

"We have commenced repairs to the shuttle engines. We will test it within 48 hours."

"That's good going, I thought it was badly damaged?" Janeway announced, surprised.

"Lieutenant Caerey has been very efficient," came Seven's simple reply.

"How's the rest of the party?"

"We are in good order and happy. Ensign Wildman has started to mine Dilithium. The Colonel is finding food and entertains us at night. I think he is enjoying the experience!"

The Captain smiled, she could well see the Colonel enjoying an expedition in wild country.

"We are making progress in coming to collect you," she announced, "But at the current rate, it will be over a week."

"Acknowledged, I shall inform the Colonel. We shall adapt," Seven signed off.

She turned to Chakotay. "You said I should believe in the Colonel the Survivor. A shuttle crash they should have died in and he's having it repaired. Then he continues with his mission. I believe in him now! I wonder if he knows the meaning of failure?"

Chakotay nodded. "I don't think he does. His experience in similar circumstances certainly tells. As Tuvok says, Not Star Fleet', but very effective," he admitted.

The Colonel looked out from his vantage point the following morning. He looked for the purple blotch he had seen the previous day. It wasn't where it was. Quickly he started to scan for signs of it. Finally a new one had came into view, less than fifteen miles from their camp. Desperately he examined it to try and make out more details. He caught his breath as he finally gained an image of what they were, they appeared to be plants, like the one he had pulled out of the ground for Naomi the day before, but much bigger. He swore under his breath and hurried down to the camp.

"Mr Caerey, how quickly could you get the shuttle working, with help?" he asked quickly.

"I'm draining fuel from the missiles at the moment, so tonight possibly. Why?" He asked in surprise.

"I think we may have to move in a hurry," the Colonel advised. "I need to check something I've seen from the hill. I will be back tonight. In the mean time please take any instructions from Seven of Nine."

Seven of Nine looked at him sharply as he turned and grabbed a handful of iron rations a water bottle and some of the Lychee's that were left from the previous day.

"You are leaving us?"

"I don't like inexplicable things," he answered cryptically. "Flowers that move more than five miles a day come under the category of inexplicable. I'll be back tonight!" Then he was gone, almost running out of the camp.

Puzzled by his rapid change of mood they set to work, stripping the shuttle.

The Colonel wasn't certain why he was worried by what he had seen. A sixth sense was warning him there was a danger and it was seldom wrong. He settled to infantry step, ten paces quick march, ten paces jog, so as to cover the ground as quickly as possible. Under two hours later he was laying on a ridge, overlooking the purple flowers he had seen that morning, watching them through his binoculars. He could scarcely believe his eyes.

The plants did indeed look similar to the purple flower he had picked the other day, but the similarity appeared superficial. These were nearly eight feet tall and five across. Shaped like a giant straightened phonograph trumpet. The narrow leaves at the base of the the small fly catcher had gone to be replaced by four vertical tubes around the base that rattled woodenly. The stigma that was so short, was now waving more than 15 feet above the plant like a giant tentacle. At the end of the tentacle was a long serrated hook. All this was acceptable to him, improbable as it looked. What caught his attention was at the base of the plant. The flower and tubes projected from a bulb, nearly four feet diameter and two thick. Below the bulb three thick roots supported it's weight, the problem was that each root in turn was moving.

He watched mesmerised, time forgotten, as they crawled along the ground, he had never seen anything like it. Suddenly, what looked like a dog, bolted from the undergrowth right in front of the advancing flower bed. Immediately the nearest plants lashed out at it with their tentacles, extending them to well over thirty feet long. The creature screamed as it was lashed. It fell, still screaming and thrashing. The tendril from one plant wrapped around its body and pulled it back, then started to rip it's still struggling body apart with the hook, dropping anything that caught into the bell of the flower.

He put down the binoculars, sickened by what he had witnessed. "They're like Triffids!" he thought, remembering a story he had read once. A thin shadow waved in front of him. With out thinking, he rolled from his position, bringing his rifle to firing position and shot through the tentacle of the plant that was less than ten feet behind him, all in one smooth operation. Only the fact that he had been laying so still had saved him from being ripped to pieces like the creature he had witnessed.

The sound of the shot alerted the plants, their huge heads twitched this way and that as they tried to locate the source of the noise.

Without waiting, he scrabbled to his feet and started running, checking his direction as another plant appeared in front of him. A tentacle lashed at him, he dived to one side and it whistled past his left shoulder, then ducked again as a second lashed towards him. A third whistled towards him, he grabbed it and yanked hard, pulling the plant down, a mixture of blood and gore spilled from it. Again he started running, only to be tripped by another tentacle wrapping itself around his leg. Shifting his rifle to his left hand he desperately hacked at it with his sword, cutting clean through the tightening thong. Dropping the sword he brought his rifle up again and shot out another three tentacles, then picked it up again. He started running again, parrying blows with the sword blade and rifle barrel.

After fifteen minutes, he stopped, blowing hard and looked back. He had out distanced the plants, they were no longer in sight. Carefully, he worked his way back towards them. He found them about a mile away. There appeared to be some commotion, with much woody clacking coming from the tubes, interspersed by periodic animal screams. They were still advancing, but now they had formed a long line, nearly 800 yards long and eight deep. They were systematically beating out the undergrowth. Anything that tried to make a break for freedom was immediately set upon by the leading plants, anything that tried to stay put was taken out by the next rows.

Quickly he mentally divided the line in half, then half again, and a third and fourth time, then counted the plants. "Nearly 5,000 of the bloody things," he thought. "More than I can cope with and they are heading towards the camp!"

Carefully he worked his way around the line and examined the area they had covered, looking for any sign that offered a potential method of survival. He found nothing, so he made his way around them again and continued to watch as they systematically stripped the land. As the afternoon gave way to evening they bunched up together and seemed to dig in as he watched. He was tempted to see if they physically went to sleep at night, but was immediately discouraged as he saw a tentacle lash out at something on the ground.

He made his way back to camp, mentally measuring the distance. They had travelled over seven miles that day.

It was pitch dark by the time he returned. He was challenged by Seven of Nine, as he approached the light he could see her with phasor at the ready. She ran towards him.

"We heard shots," she said matter of factly. "There was a problem?"

"There is a problem, a big problem. The natives are unfriendly," he answered.

"Is there a drink available?" He asked.

She fetched him a mug of coffee from the fire, then sat beside him as he described what he had seen.

"They are a threat," she stated when he finished. "Can they be destroyed before they reach the camp?"

"When they are moving in a line, no. If I knew where they were going to stop before they got here, then perhaps I could use the missile warheads as mines. It would thin the numbers a little, but I doubt it would stop them for long," he stated flatly, then yawned

"You are tired, you must regenerate," she ordered him to bed.

The following morning he once again approached his lookout point, fear and trepidation gnawing at his stomach. Once again he scanned the horizons, he could not see them, but he felt their presence hidden in one of the valley's. He returned to the camp, he took the proffered mug from Ensign Wildman and sat down.

"Seven has told us what you told her," stated Caerey. "I will test the engine this morning, but there is another problem."

"Go on," said the Colonel carefully.

"We cannot lighten the ship enough to take everybody, at least one of us must stay behind!"

The Colonel nodded. "When will you have the shuttle ready to launch?" he asked quietly.

"If nothing goes wrong, tonight," answered Caerey.

"How long will the flight take? And how quickly could Voyager return?"

"I have calculated the shuttle will require four days to reach Voyager, another two to get the warp engines on line, then another two days to get return here," answered Seven.

Again the Colonel nodded. He turned to Ensign Wildman. "Prepare tight rations for the flight, allow for five days for the four of you, get it stowed, with the Dilithium, Ensign."

"Seven, see if you can contact Voyager and brief them on what's happening. See if they can transmit a homing signal, that way you can beam ride the shuttle home. I'll be back at lunch," he ordered finally. Getting up with his weapons he walked from the camp, back to his view point.

"He took that calmly," commented Caerey, as they watched him leave.

"He knows he will have to stay, he is the only one that can survive here." Samantha Wildman pointed out quietly.

Seven of Nine contacted Voyager and gave them the latest news. The Captain listened to her in silence, then confirmed that there were no major improvements in Voyagers status. Then she followed him to his vantage point.

"Those bastards are moving faster this morning, Miss Nine" he commented without turning around. "There nearly half way already and I can't think of a damned thing to slow them down," he sighed, finally turning around.

"I think now would be a good time for me to pack," he smiled weakly at her. "But I will hold them off for long enough to get the shuttle airborne."

"I wish to remain with you!" She stated flatly.

He stopped and looked at her. "Why?" he asked simply.

"The chances of the shuttle reaching Voyager will be improved if two remain," she answered flatly.

"That's poppy-cock and you know it," he retorted irritably.

She hesitated, "I do not wish to lose you, or allow you to be damaged, fighting off the 'Triffid' attack."

"I don't want to lose me or get hurt either, but there is no choice. I'm the only one who can survive here and of least value to Voyager. My duty is to ensure that you, Wildman, Caerey and Naomi can get off the ground. Yours is to get them back to the ship. The rest can wait until everything's sorted itself out," he snapped at her, then stumped back to camp. She watched him go, swallowing hard.

"I guess that we have about three hours before our plant friends crash our party," he announced at lunch. "That is you deadline Lieutenant, if you can't get off by then, then you're not going anywhere. I intend to lay a few surprises for our horticultural nemesis, that may slow them up a little, but don't bank on it."

"I'm not good at good bye's, so I wish you Bon Voyage and leave you in Seven of Nine's hands. If you decide you want me back at some point, I'll be somewhere here," he smiled at them.

Picking up his pack he left, marching in the direction of the plants.

"We shall prepare for launch," commanded Seven. "Lieutenant Caerey, you will start the initial preparations. The sooner we depart the quicker the Colonel will be able to disengage for safety."

Caerey warmed up the engines as they took their places, Seven of Nine took a last despairing look from the doorway and sealed the hatch. She spotted something out the corner of her eye, she turned to look at it and the girl holding it.

"Naomi Wildman, you are aware we cannot take anything that is not essential for our survival," she scolded, pointing to the wooden flute she was trying to hide.

"Please, Seven. It doesn't weigh anything and it may be all I have of the Colonel!" Pleaded the little girl desperately.

She relented, thinking of her own thoughts for the tall soldier. "Very well. Maybe your playing will help the voyage go smoother," she agreed reluctantly.

Taking her place in the pilots seat, she increased power. The shuttle shuddered and started to rise to an altitude of 50 metres, but wouldn't go any higher.

"We are still too heavy," she announced, bringing the shuttle down again.

"There was still power available," pointed out Caerey.

"It was insufficient," she protested hotly, "We have 100 Kilograms of Dilithium on board. Voyager requires ten. I shall remove half of the load. We will pick it up again when we return. Assist me!" She demanded.

Caerey helped her remove the buckets of crystal from the ship.

Behind them an explosion showed that the Colonel was starting to deploy his tricks in an attempt to slow down the advance.

"You will take the shuttle back to Voyager. I shall remain here, with the Colonel," Seven ordered him.

"We should have the power for all of us to get away now!" Caerey protested.

"Never the less, that is my decision. You will comply!" Demanded Seven of Nine.

Caerey nodded, seeing a Triffid appearing in the distance, he shouted "There here!"

"You will leave, now!" Seven demanded again, picking up a phasor from the discarded pile of equipment, she started to walk towards the plant.

Caerey shut the door and scrambled into the pilots seat. Applying maximum thrust the Shuttle lurched rapidly into the sky.

"Seven has decided she needs to remain with the Colonel," he announced to the remaining stunned crew.

"Mommy, why did Seven really want to stay with the Colonel?" A bewildered, Naomi asked her mother.

Her mother sighed deeply. "Sometimes, when people are really in love. They make very rash and dangerous decisions, just to be with the person they are in love with," she explained.

"But why did the Colonel not want her stay?" She asked.

"Because he loves her and wants to protect her, just like he does with us. He won't let people get into a dangerous position if he can prevent it, even if it means he has to put himself into danger," she explained again.

Naomi settled into an uneasy silence.

The Colonel had seen the shuttle lift off and then settle again. He immediately set off to get as close as possible to the ship, with the intention of providing close support for what he thought was a failed take off. He burst onto the landing site in time to see Seven of Nine firing at a Triffid and it exploding. He saw a second, emerge from the undergrowth, less than thirty yards from her.

"Seven, down!" he yelled, firing at the new threat.

She dropped to her knees at his command, and started to scan the surrounds for more threats, and fired twice at another Trifid as it crawled into range. He ran to her and roughly picked her up.

"Grab your solar generator and make for the river," he ordered her brusquely. "Whatever happens, don't look back."

Desperately, she did as he had bid, as the main Trifid force appeared on the site. He in his turn rummaged in the Shuttles discards and pulled out another pair of phasors. One of them he used to turn the lead plants into a ball of flame, the other he desperately set to overload. He shot at another three Trifids, then tossed the now screaming phasor into the midst of the pack. He ran after Seven of Nine. Catching her, he pulled her to the ground, just before the overloaded phasor exploded in an incandescent ball of fire.

Mind reeling from the concussion, he looked back, the thirty or more plants that had appeared on the landing site were now burning stumps, the plants that were following were following were being held back by the fire.

"Come on," he commanded. "Before they start coming around!"

He grabbed the solar generator from her, and lifted her to her feet again. Half carrying her, he led her to the stream and across it. There they sat down and watched the Trifids rattling to each other.

"If we're lucky, they'll give up on us. They'll almost certainly stay there tonight, then move on again in the morning. I'll go and see what remains of the camp then. Maybe the replicator is in one piece, so we can get more suitable clothing for you. You will need it, we can't have you running around naked, people will talk," he commented, pointing at a tear in her suit leg.

"I'd better take a look at the scratch now though," he said gently, pulling the torn material apart and applying an antiseptic ointment to the scratch.

"Any more damage I should know about?" he asked, when he had finished.

"I have bruised my other arm, and my chin," she informed him.

"I won't ask you why you stayed," he said gently as he treated her arm. "I'll simply put it down as a selfless act to ensure the shuttle had the power to take off. If I thought otherwise, I would have to shoot you for disobeying a direct order. And that would be a great pity, as I can't think of anybody I would rather be marooned with."

"Now about that chin, stick it out and I'll treat that," he continued.

She tilted her head back, holding up her chin. He took it gently, examining it then kissed it gently. The kiss became more passionate, as he kissed his way down her neck then back up to her mouth. Finally she wrapped her arms around him, letting herself fall back onto the grass, pulling him down on top of her.

"Not to have your presence, would be unacceptable," she murmured in his ear.

The following morning, after he had satisfied himself that the Trifids had gone, he led Seven back to the landing site. Much of what had been left had been destroyed, the replicator although damaged was still operational. He set Seven the task of replicating stronger clothes for herself and he proceeded on to their campsite. He found a mug and mess tin in one piece amongst the debris. The tents had disappeared, and everything else that they had left destroyed. He returned to Seven to find out what else was usable from the shuttle.

"The replicator has failed," she said, as he approached. She had, however, managed to replicate a set of combat fatigues similar to his own before it had failed and had put them on.

He examined her critically. "Not the most flattering clothing in the world, for your figure," he admitted. "But I think they will be more practical, and last longer!"

From the rest of the wreckage they managed to find another phasor, which the Colonel pocketed, a sheet of plastic, which he folded for his pack and some webbing. The webbing he constructed into a sling to accept the solar generator. He placed the unit on Seven of Nines back and strapped her to it. "You will need this," he pointed out quietly. "We will have to find a new campsite, there is nothing left here."

They set off, following the streams course.

The Shuttle rattled badly as it entered orbit. Carefully Caerey rotated the small ship and set course for Voyagers positional beacon and set the ship into warp drive. It achieved a maximum of warp 2. It was a little less than he had hoped, but would still mean they could reach the crippled Voyager in less than the original 4 days estimated.

He turned to the Wildman's, trying to think of something to say. Samantha Wildman stopped him. "If your going to apologise for leaving Seven of Nine, don't," she said. "She did what she thought was right and what she wanted to do. The Colonel will look after her."

"I was," he admitted, "But I was also going to apologise for getting us in this mess, it was all my fault!" He exclaimed.

"I cannot forgive you for putting my daughter at risk Lieutenant," Ensign Wildman replied levelly, "You'll have to answer to the Captain for that! Just get us back to Voyager safely."

They descended into silence.

Captain Janeway waited impatiently for the shuttle to dock. Torres had had Engineering preparing the Warp Engines for the last two days. Everything had been stripped, cleaned, polished and reassembled to unheard off levels of perfection. Nothing would stop the re-initialising of the drive in record time, Torres had promised the Captain, just as soon as the crystals arrived.

The shuttle finally docked. The door opened and the three crew stepped out to be met by the Doctor and his tricorder. Quickly he dragged the remote sensor over them.

"Hmph! They appear to be in perfect health Captain. But I wish to carry out a more thorough check in Sick Bay," he announced.

"Very well, Doctor," she replied.

"Report," she demanded of Caerey, "Where is Seven of Nine and the Colonel?"

"They stayed behind, when we found we could not remove enough weight to take everybody, Captain," he reported.

"The Colonel made me a flute!" Interrupted Naomi, proudly waving the instrument at the Captain.

The Captain allowed herself to be distracted. "My, that looks like a good instrument, can you play it?" she asked quietly.

"Yes Ma'am," the girl replied.

"Then perhaps I'll come and listen later, but go along with your mother to sick bay and let the Doctor check you over properly," she said gently. She turned back to the more immediate problems.

"B'Elanna, have we enough Dilithium to get Warp Engines on-line?" She demanded.

"Plenty," announced Torres, chasing an engineering crew out of the shuttle with the containers of crystals. "I must say, Caerey's modifications to the drive are almost inspired," she commented.

"The Colonel has that effect on people," the Captain admitted.

Caerey cleared his throat. "Captain," he said quietly.

"Lieutenant?" She asked.

"The shuttle crashed because I failed to take sufficient care during servicing. I request to be relieved of my duties!" He stated flatly.

The Captain looked at him sharply. "Why?" She asked incredulously. "No don't tell me, it will wait until we get the rest back. In the mean time you may consider yourself under arrest and confined to quarters, as requested. Tuvok take him away."

"As you say, Kathryn, the Colonel has an effect on people," commented Chakotay.

The Captain smiled. "Lets get the Warp Drive online, then we can discuss it properly."

They left the bay.

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