Chapter XVII

Chapter XVII

'Aralla fleet sighted and engaged. Withdrew with one casualty. Starfleet runabout Missouri recovered.'

Picard slammed a fist on the desk before him in triumph, surprising Seven of Nine, who sat on the other side. 'Sorry,' he said, slightly embarrassed.

'It is no matter,' said Seven.

It was twelve hours since the Collective had spotted the USS Missouri and Picard had sent a fleet of Cubes out to recover the Missouri at any cost. They had lost a single Cube, but the objective had been achieved. And Picard had plenty more Cubes to play with –

He stopped his train of thought there. Seven had warned him of becoming too involved in the amount of power he controlled, and Picard himself also recognised the danger. The Queen had come to think of herself as invincible, and Picard was determined not to do the same. It would be dangerous.

And he had to remember the number of drones who had died to rescue Data, despite the fact that many in the Fleet might not see it that way. He had been like that once.

The Enterprise, three birds-of-prey, and a Romulan Warbird formed the reception committee for the Borg fleet over a large blue planet that reminded Picard too much of Earth. However, it was the closest point to the taskforce that the Enterprise commanded and their patrol route.

'The Cubes have recovered the runabout that I was telling you about earlier. We may have a valuable addition to the Fleet shortly.'

Seven nodded, her face non-committal. That particular expression had not really changed ever since she had come aboard the Enterprise. She had not yet fully transferred across, but Picard had requested that she come aboard. 'Sir,' she said, 'we were discussing the Borg modifications to the Fleet?'

Picard nodded, his face enthused. 'Yes, we were. I want the Borg to begin making modifications to the engines, weapons systems and shields of all the ships in the Fleet. Make the weapons more powerful, add transwarp drives to the engines, and add Borg technology to the shields.'

'That is wise,' said Seven, 'but I advise that the shields are left as they are.'

Picard frowned. 'Why?'

'The Borg, because they cannot learn by other than assimilation, are vulnerable to that which they cannot adapt to. For example, if they had not assimilated any Starfleet technology, they would still be very vulnerable to Starfleet weapons. The same is true for the Aralla, and since their weapons are more powerful than Starfleet's, with the city destroyers being able to destroy a Cube with a single shot, they alone could decimate the entire Borg fleet without a single casualty. If you incorporate Borg technology into the shields of every ship in the Fleet, the Aralla would do the same to them as well. However powerful your weapons might be, and no matter if we brought down their shields, the Aralla would still win.'

Picard nodded. What Seven said made sense. 'Why won't that mean the same for the weapons?'

'Borg weapons cannot penetrate their shields, the same as those of the Fleet. If the Aralla shields fail, Borg firepower will just as devastating as against any other vessel. Polymorphic materials, by their very nature, are weaker than those of conventional design. One reason that the Borg have not adopted them as hull materials for their ships, even though they have the capability.'

'Understood,' said Picard. 'I am glad that you are here to tell me this,' he added honestly.

'You do have the information anyway,' remarked Seven. 'Really, you don't need me to tell you anything that the Borg may or may not know.'

'Not so,' responded Picard, shaking his head. 'Although I can access that information, I don't know where to look, and I need time to locate it in the Collective. I need you to tell me what I might not know, where to find it, and also to give me the time to find it.'

Seven blinked, her expression becoming puzzled. 'I don't quite understand?' she said, tone questioning.

'I want you to be the Fleet liaison with the Borg.'

'Why?' asked Seven immediately. 'With respect, you don't need one –'

'I do, Seven,' said Picard. 'You need to be involved with the hard work and technicalities of implementing my orders in the Fleet.'

'The Borg don't need anything like that –' Seven broke off, realising where her train of thought was leading. 'But the Fleet does.'

'Exactly. The Fleet is still extremely distrusting of the Borg, and I don't blame them. Except for a few of the highest-ranking officers in the Fleet, nobody knows of my total assumption of the Borg Collective's leadership. I need someone to take all of the small, day-to-day decisions off my hands, and you are the best I can think of. You know the Borg, and you are human, and you know me. You're very unique, Seven of Nine.'

Seven smiled faintly. 'Sir, I cannot refuse. Thank you for trusting me.'

'Bridge to Admiral Picard!' Thames sounded concerned. 'Borg fleet approaching off port bow.'

Picard smiled again and stood, moving towards the door. 'On my way.'

He stepped out onto the bridge and took his chair, whilst Seven took the chair beside him. Worf turned to the Admiral as he sat down. 'Sir, I've taken the liberty of powering shields and weapons.'

Picard frowned at him, and then realised how tense the atmosphere was. Hedly gripped the console behind him tightly, Thames sat upright and very straight-shouldered, and Truper was tapping his fingers on the helm nervously. On the screen, the Klingons and Romulans were advancing ahead of the Enterprise, obviously to defend the flagship.

Picard shook his head in exasperation. 'Power down shields and weapons. Order the Klingons and Romulans to come back to holding positions.'

'Sir?' asked Worf incredulously. 'The Borg –'

'The Borg are our allies, Mr. Worf!' snapped Picard. 'Furthermore, they are under my direct command. They will not attack.'

Worf stared at Picard, and then turned to face the screen, muttering a Klingon phrase under his breath that Picard did not quite catch. 'Drop shields and power down weapons,' he said.

'Aye, sir,' said Hedly, who had obviously already done so. 'The F'Ferisor is requesting confirmation of orders.'

'Confirm them,' said Worf. 'Order them to fall back to just off our port quarter.'

Picard smiled, recognising that the position that Worf had ordered the Warbird to would keep them in direct line of fire from the Borg ships, but he was prepared to let it go. However, he would have to work on the culture of fear that persisted in the Fleet regarding the Borg, understandable though it was.

The Warbirds and Birds of Prey turned back and surrounded the Enterprise again, and at the same moment, the Borg fleet dropped out of warp on the port side of the taskforce.

Picard looked at them, worried. All of them bore heavy battle damage, some trailing sparks and flames still burning on huge hull breaches that rent the dark surfaces. Of the surviving eleven ships, the lightest damage appeared to be inflicted on the Cube nearest the front. This particular Cube had a thin beam of green light streaming away from it's hull, and encapsulated in the light was the tiny shape of a battered, scarred but recognisable, Starfleet runabout.

Picard leapt to his feet excitedly, all concerns for the Borg fleet evaporating. 'Signal the runabout!'

'They are hailing us, Admiral,' said Hedly, confused as to Picard's excitement. 'Audio only.'

'On speakers,' ordered Picard, and a blaze of static erupted over the speakers.

Everybody present winced reflexively, until Hedly managed to scrub out most of the static noise, and everybody heard a faint, but very familiar, voice. 'Missouri to Enterprise. This is Data.'

Stunned silence fell across the bridge at the android's voice, and even Picard, who had known what to expect, felt a thrill run through him at the sound of his long thought dead second officer's voice. 'Data, this is Admiral Picard. Are you alright?'

'Sir, the Missouri is heavily damaged. The last battle we had before the Borg arrived took quite a bit out of her.'

'Admiral,' interrupted Worf, glancing down at the readout on his chair, 'we're reading a fluctuation in the warp engines of the Missouri.'

'Is the fluctuation dangerous?'

'There is no way to tell for certain, but it is extremely likely.' Picard nodded, and turned back to the screen.

'Data, I would assume that you know this already, but we've picked up an unusual fluctuation in the Missouri's engines, but we can't tell if it might be dangerous. As a precaution, we're beaming you and Mr. Odo aboard and sending a repair team out to the Missouri. It doesn't look like it'll stand up to a tractor beam in its present condition.'

'Sir,' began Data, 'I will be the only one beaming aboard. Mr. Odo is –'

Thames called out, urgently, 'Sir, the fluctuation is getting larger. It's going to cause a warp core breach!'

'Energise!' snapped Picard at Hedly.

Picard looked at the screen, at the dark shape of the Borg. Suddenly, the tiny ship in its green grasp flared into light, blown apart in a micro-second by the merest contact of matter and anti-matter. He whipped around to face Hedly. 'Have you got them?'

Hedly stared at her console anxiously, and then raised her head, half-smiling. 'We got Captain Data, Admiral.' Picard nodded sadly, and looked back at the screen which showed the Borg tractor beam holding the wreckage of the devastated runabout fast in its grip still. Picard willed them to deactivate the beam, and it vanished, allowing the destroyed ship to float away into space.

Onboard that was the body of Odo, and maybe a host of information on the Aralla, and maybe the state of the Gamma Quadrant after their retreat. Still, they should be able to salvage something with Data's computerised memory.

'Tell Mr. Data to come to my ready room as soon as he can. And set course back to the Unicomplex at maximum warp.' He walked towards the ready room, head bowed.

The door slid aside, and Picard looked up into the face of his old friend. 'Data!'

Data's uniform was burnt and dirty, his hair mussed, and his face slightly blackened. If he had been human, he would have been diagnosed as suffering from exhaustion. But Picard knew his android friend far better than to let exterior appearances fool him. Data still smiled, and held out his hand, which Picard took and shook vigorously. 'It's good to see you again, Admiral,' he said.

'And the same to you,' replied Picard, indicating that Data should take a seat, which he did gratefully. Picard sat at the other side of the desk. There was a pause.

'Sir,' said Data eventually, 'I would be interested in knowing how you managed to get the Fleet all the way here.' He glanced at the window, to where the Borg Cubes could be seen cruising alongside. 'And how you seem to have gained the complete co-operation of the Collective.'

Picard quickly filled him in on the events of the last few weeks, enjoying the mixed reactions that greeted each piece of news, and leaving very little out. The only major piece of information that he passed over were the exact details of the defeat of the Borg Queen, and the precise nature of his relationship with the Collective. He saw that Data had noted this, but had also resolved to let that be.

Picard was glad. Data was, as yet, an unknown quantity, despite the long friendship they had. As yet, Picard did not know what had happened on the android's odyssey, and intended to press him about that.

'If you want any more information, then it's all in a full report. You can read it after this debriefing,' Picard concluded, glancing at the android for comment.

'An intriguing tale,' said Data, making Picard wonder what exactly he meant by that. Data glanced at the floor. 'Admiral, I wish to apologise for my actions after Captain Riker's death.'

'Your actions?' asked Picard, befuddled. Data nodded.

'My cowardice, my departure from the Fleet.' Data sighed. 'I never even asked myself why I did it.'

'Why did you do it?' asked Picard quietly. He had never been angry at Data over his departure from the Fleet.

'Sir, Captain Riker died very unexpectedly, during our battle with the Jem'Hadar shortly after the defeat at DS9,' began Data. Picard winced slightly at the recollection of those two battles which had driven them first from the Alpha Quadrant and then from the Gamma Quadrant. 'I remember, after the hit the Enterprise took, that I looked at his eyes as he lay on the deck.' Data frowned at Picard, his eyes saddened, and his face perturbed. 'There is a phrase – "apprehensions of mortality." I have never had that; I have never confronted the possibility of my death, or the fact that I will one day shut down forever.' Data made a conscientious correction. 'At least, not before I gained emotions.'

Picard nodded silently, understanding Data's problem. Data continued, 'I suddenly realised that so many people had died whom I felt were indestructible. Counsellor Troi, Doctor Crusher, Captain Riker – so many.'

Picard shivered at the melancholy in the android's hollow voice. 'I thought we were indestructible as well, Data. It comes from going through so much together, and always coming out on the other side.'

'It wasn't as if we hadn't confronted death before,' Data went on. 'Tasha died a long time ago.'

'You didn't have emotions then.'

'No, true,' agreed Data. 'But so much death in so little time – I finally began to feel it might be me next. I was terrified!' His voice was angry now – Picard took it to be self-loathing.

'We were all scared –'

'No, not like that!'

'Damn it, yes, we were!' shouted Picard, suddenly angry. 'I went through every night after Beverly's death wanting only to hide in a corner! But I came out, and I fought the Aralla as hard as I could! I turned my fear and anger into something useful, and I used it to fight back! And I know that you're capable of doing that as well!' Picard suddenly realised that he was stood up, and yelling at Data, who sat in stunned silence before him, looking cowed. Picard sat down, slightly embarrassed.

'Data,' he began again quietly, 'everybody in this Fleet has lost somebody. Captain Sisko, for example, lost his entire family at DS9. We have all lost something or someone, Data, and much as it pains me to say this, both to you and myself, our case is not unique.'

Data stared sadly at Picard. 'Thank you, Admiral, for your understanding.' he said at last. 'Nevertheless, my actions in leaving the Fleet in a moment of crisis ' - He emphasised the last to forestall Picard's protest - 'are not those of a Starfleet officer, and certainly not ones that I could forgive in any officer. I would not expect you to do the same in my case. Thus, I ask that you allow me to rejoin the Enterprise crew as Ops officer, in my old role and my old rank of Lieutenant. A three grade demotion, I believe, is adequate for desertion.'

Picard stared at the sober look on Data's face. A three-grade demotion would be severe for anything less than theft from a Starfleet vessel or a Starfleet officer's quarters, which would be accompanied by court-martial for the offending officer, and imprisonment anyway. Desertion, in any circumstances, did not merit that. 'Data, I won't do that. You are very new to the world of emotion. I cannot yet expect you to understand the amount of heartache and pain that it takes a human to overcome such despair or depression as you have obviously suffered. In all honesty,' he added with a grin, 'I never deactivated your commission. I simply logged you as taking the leave that you were entitled to. More than ten years in Starfleet, and you did not take a single day's leave. It does accumulate, you know.' Picard smiled, and dropped four glittering objects onto the desk from where he had concealed them in his hand. Data stared mutely at them, and picked one up in his hand, cradling it as though it were the most precious thing in the world, which, in a sense, they were.

The four pips of captaincy. Data lined them all up in his palm, and looked at Picard. And smiled. 'You sly –' He broke off, voice choked.

Picard beamed innocently at him. 'You will serve as my first officer here, on the Enterprise. The war needs someone with great experience on the flagship.' Picard dropped the smile. 'There is another thing.'

'Sir?'

'Mr. Odo?'

Data stared into space, smile vanishing. 'We encountered the Aralla fleet several times, sir,' he said. Picard frowned, thoughts of the security chief of Deep Space Nine receding.

'How much of it?'

'All of it,' said Data, and his words stunned Picard. 'We were captured and brought aboard the lead mother ship,' he added.

'My god, Data,' hissed Picard. 'When?'

'Early in our voyage.' Data proceeded to inform Picard of his and Odo's long trek from the wormhole to their last encounter with the Borg fleet. Picard sat and listened, enthralled.

'Odo was killed in one of our last fights against the Aralla,' said Data towards the end of his monologue. 'A Borg Cube - I assume it was your handiwork, sir - appeared out of nowhere, and attacked the Aralla fleet, allowing us time and cover to escape. However, we hit a stray beam of Aralla fire, and Odo was killed when a console exploded.'

Picard had frowned at the mention of the Cube. 'A Cube, you say?' Data nodded. 'How long did it stand up to the pounding?'

'Less than a minute, sir. The city destroyers and mother ships never came within range. The attack planes ripped it apart.'

Picard eyes widened, and he slumped a little in his seat. 'I knew that the Borg were not capable of defeating the Aralla, but to know that they are this weak is unbelievable.'

'Sir, the Borg were once the invincibles,' said Data quietly. 'Now, we know they can be beaten.'

'Your point?'

'It is the same for the Aralla.'

Picard frowned at the android. 'Data, if you have something to say, just say it.'

Data straightened, and hit Picard with the ultimate bombshell. 'Admiral, I think I know how to defeat the Aralla.'

Picard stared silently at Data for a long moment, and Data waited for his commander's response. 'Elaborate,' murmured Picard eventually. 'I don't want to get excited until I know what you're proposing.'

Data nodded, understanding. 'I will have to give you part of the background story first, sir, otherwise what I say may not make sense.' Picard nodded, and Data proceeded to tell, in more detail, the story of his and Odo's short captivity aboard the Aralla mother ship. About how the architecture and docking configurations within the Aralla mother ship gave significant clues as to their psychological makeup. About how their organisational tendencies also gave rise to speculation over their network of command.

Data took him through the story of their escape, what he and the changeling had seen there with their own eyes, and also what he had recorded on sensors. He then outlined his theories regarding the origin of the Aralla technology, their polymorphic ships, and all of his hypotheses regarding everything he knew about the Aralla.

'Sir,' he said, 'the Aralla are, like the Borg, a very centralised network of individuals and groups. However, they are not totally linked at all times. They retain an element of individuality in their structures, which gives their fighter squadrons such power and flexibility. They are organised into groups of three, which are commanded by a single mind. That's why they can afford such losses.' Data leaned closer. 'And that is their weakness.'

'Explain,' said Picard.

He leaned closer. 'The Aralla command structure is an essentially simple structure. A fighter, alone, is the local command centre. If attached to a squadron, then that becomes the local command. And so on, all the way up to the mother ships.'

Picard shrugged. 'That is the same as our own command structure.'

Data shook his head. 'With one important difference. If the command centre is destroyed in our structure, the next ship and commander along take overall command. However, if that happens in the Aralla structure, then the entire fleet falls apart. They cannot handle such a huge disruption in communications.'

'If we destroy the Aralla mother ship, then, you're saying that will knock out the entire Aralla fleet.'

'We would need to destroy all five mother ships, but I believe that if we did so, that would either knock out or disorient the other ships so that we can destroy them as well. And if their shields are gone, that is a fairly simple task. Their hulls are relatively weak.'

Picard nodded. 'However, this is all simply theory.'

'Yes, sir,' said Data. 'But I will be able to prove it though. If I can get a ship close enough to the Aralla mother ships, I will determine whether or not there is a central computer network. If so, then I believe that we can assume that I am correct.'

Picard frowned. 'Isn't that just arrogance?'

Data did not appear perturbed by the hostile question. 'I know that it would seem so –'

'How would you intend to bring the shields down?'

Data blinked. 'The invasive program, of course.'

'I mean, how do you intend to get that onboard the mother ship?'

'Transmit it –' Data stopped. 'Ah, I see your point. The last time we tried that –'

'Bajor was destroyed,' agreed Picard. He paused for a moment, and then said, 'I have an idea.'

'Sir?'

Picard stood and looked out of the window, as he did when he was thinking. 'The Collective has information on the Aralla, information that we are not privy to. Or, more accurately, privy to yet. I need to start digging, see what the Borg can tell us about our enemy.'

'The Borg, sir?' asked Data, mystified.

'Yes,' said Picard, and then saw Data's face. 'I'll fill you in when you get back.'

'Get back?' asked Data, now thoroughly lost.

'Yes,' said Picard with a smile. 'You and Mr. Worf are going on a little mission for me.'

'Understood. What mission?'

'Our objectives are to get into the mother ship, plant the virus, and get out quickly. A Starfleet runabout would be destroyed on encounter, and so would any other Fleet ship. What we need is an Aralla attack fighter.'

Data smiled suddenly, realising what Picard meant. The Admiral continued, 'You and Mr. Worf will board the lead mother ship, locate and capture a fighter, and return to the Fleet.'

Data nodded. 'Understood. Why Worf?'

'Worf is the best combat officer I know. His experience of both armed and unarmed combat will prove most useful. Plus, you work well together.'

Data nodded again. 'I agree. I will need a few other things. The USS Voyager for a start.'

'Voyager?' It was Picard's turn to look puzzled. 'Why?'

'In terms of sneaking up on the Aralla in the Enterprise?'

'Point taken.'

'I know the Aralla sensor net well, now. They have a very short range, for they rely upon their fighters for scouting and protection. Their long-range sensors are not particularly efficient, and a ship the size of the Voyager ought to get through. We only need to get into transporter range. The Aralla do not know of transporters.'

'Excellent choice,' said Picard. 'And, you couldn't know, but Voyager is one of the first ships to be outfitted with transwarp drive and certain Borg modifications. She will be ready for deployment in four days. I want you to do one last thing.'

'Sir?'

'I want you to inform Captain Sisko of the death of Mr. Odo, Data.'

Data straightened, his face worried. 'Sir, I –'

'That's an order, Captain,' said Picard firmly. Data nodded once, sharply. 'While you're there,' added Picard, 'ask Captain Sisko to come to the Enterprise. I have a present for him.' He smiled enigmatically. Data ignored this.

'Is that all?' he asked.

'Yes, Captain,' said Picard. 'I expect you prepare for the mission and be ready in four days. Report to me when your preparations. By then, I hope to have gained some useful information from the Borg about the Aralla which may help you.'

Data nodded, knowing that Picard's mind was made up, and that there was nothing more that he could add. 'Permission to leave, sir?'

'Yes, Captain,' replied Picard. Data turned and made his way to the door. As he stepped through, Picard called, 'Data?'

'Yes, Admiral?' said the android, turning.

'Welcome back. I missed you.'

Data paused for a moment, and then nodded. 'Thank you, sir.'

He left, and Picard stared at the closed door for the moment. Then, he said to himself, 'We've all changed.'

He pressed a button on his desk. 'Seven of Nine, can you come to my ready room please?'

'Yes, Admiral' said her voice.

A few seconds later, the door hissed open and Seven stepped in, looking her usual cool self. 'You wanted to see me, sir?'

'I need to access the Borg archives, Seven,' said Picard, 'and you're going to help me.'

'My help, sir?' queried Seven.

'I've not done much delving into the Collective, other than that necessary to give orders and look at situations from a single drone's point of view. I doubt that I will have the time to explore some of the most esoteric aspects of the Collective.'

Seven filed away this odd reference into the back of her mind, and looked at Picard. 'The only times I was able to access the Collective's archives, sir, was when I was directly connected via my regeneration alcove.'

'You, Seven, were a drone,' Picard reminded her gently. 'I am the Collective. It is mine, and I can access any part of it at any time.' He stopped, and shook his head. 'It's happening again.'

'Sir?'

Picard smiled at her. 'One of the reasons that the Borg Queen lost. She forgot that she could be defeated.' When Seven's face did not change, Picard shook his head. 'Ask Captain Janeway. I think she guessed.'

'Sir.' Seven thought for a moment. 'If you are permanently connected into the Collective, sir, it's merely a case of knowing how to find what you are looking for. I am quite capable of doing that.'

Picard sat down. 'Let's begin.'

The Defiant was at rest near the Unicomplex, having several modifications made to its weapons and engines by the Borg, in preparation for the installation of transwarp engines.

'Sir?' Ben Sisko looked up at Dax, from his position at one of the weapons consoles, overseeing some modifications to the weapons.

'What is it?'

Dax looked at him for a moment. 'Captain Data's just beamed aboard from the Enterprise. He would like to speak with you and Major Kira.'

Kira, who was stood at the next console along, glanced at Dax. 'Wasn't Odo with him?' she asked, pre-empting Sisko's next question.

Dax shook her head. 'Apparently not.' Her gaze was concerned, and Kira felt her insides give a lurch. She had been extremely worried about Odo throughout his absence, and this news that he had not returned with Captain Data was an even bigger concern.

'Send him up to the bridge, Old Man,' said Sisko, his voice quiet. Kira glanced at her friend, noting that his demeanour had grown darker since they had encountered the Borg. These modifications were certainly taking a toll on his temper.

Dax nodded and moved to the helm. 'Transporter room, ask Captain Data to come to the bridge.

'All right everyone!' said Sisko, loudly. 'I want you all off the bridge for the next hour.'

Dax gaped at him. 'Sir?'

'That's an order,' said Sisko, facing the Trill. Dax stared at him for a long moment, and then nodded. The bridge cleared, leaving Kira and Sisko stood alone. A moment passed, during which Sisko merely stared into space, and Kira waited, her body tense.

Data appeared in the aft turbolift, looking apprehensive, or at least as apprehensive as an android can get. Sisko turned to face him, and said, 'Captain Data, it's nice to see you again.' His greeting contained no warmth, and Data responded oddly.

He cocked his head slightly to one side, and abruptly his face became impassive, smooth and clear as a pond on a calm summer's day. 'Thank you, sir,' he said, and Kira realised exactly what had happened.

Data had turned off his emotion chip. What had made him do that? 'I have some bad news to report, sir, regarding Security Chief Odo.' He glanced away for a second, and then said, 'I regret to inform you that Odo was killed during a skirmish with the Aralla fleet several months ago.'

Sisko closed his eyes in pain, whilst Kira pressed her hand to her mouth, suppressing a gasp of horror.

'How did it happen, Captain?' asked Sisko quietly, his eyes not opening.

'During the skirmish, I accidentally piloted the Missouri directly into the path of a stray beam of Aralla fire. The beam overloaded the shields, and blew out several consoles, one of which Odo was touching. He lost bodily integrity rapidly, and died within a minute.'

Sisko put a hand to his brow, and nodded. 'Thank you for telling us, Captain.'

'Captain Sisko,' Data said, 'Admiral Picard requested your presence aboard the Enterprise.'

Sisko nodded, turned silently, and left the bridge. Data looked at Kira for a moment. 'Major,' he said hesitantly.

Kira had sat down at the console, her face slack with the shock. After a moment, she glanced up at Data, and said, 'Sorry, Captain?'

'Major, before Odo died, he wished for me to tell you something.'

'Yes, go ahead,' she said, her voice pained.

'Major, Odo's exact last words were, "Tell Major Kira that I love her."'

Kira stared up at Data, her heart racing, unable to comprehend the new wave of rage and sorrow and pain that broke along the shores of her consciousness. She had only just come to terms with the loss of her home, her friends, and her lover, Shakaar, and now to be hit with the news of Odo's death, her best friend – there was no way to describe the devastation that she now felt. And to be told that he loved her -

She turned away from Data, hiding the pain, and said, in a tortured voice, 'Please, leave. Now.'

Data, behind her back, nodded silently and left the Defiant, a silent ship.

Bashir glanced on last time around the medical bay of the Defiant, and nodded sadly to himself. Although the facilities aboard the small ship had been primitive for a Starfleet vessel, he had come to think of it as a second home, especially during these long years of exile from the Federation.

And now, he had cleared all of his equipment out of it, to his new sickbay, and his new ship, the Enterprise, comprising a medical staff and research facilities far beyond anything he had had since his days aboard Deep Space Nine. And in some areas, particularly the competencies of his new medical staff, they were far superior to anything he had ever had before.

However, he was still filled with doubt and foreboding, much of it concentrated in the small figure stood beside him, his intern, Yevlin Meris. Although the young woman was now easily experienced enough to take over as chief nurse, and certainly competent enough to deal with all the common battle injuries that could crop up, she was by no means ready to be the CMO of a starship.

However, needs must.... There simply weren't enough trained doctors to go around. Most of the best were Starfleet officers, for many of the other major races, excepting the Cardassians and the Romulans, medical care seemed to be an option, rather than a necessity. Ferengi expected to pay for it, and many of their foremost experts had been killed on Ferenginar. It was a rarity for a D'Kora-class vessel to carry a doctor onboard, because they were so expensive. Klingons simply didn't care.

Bashir turned to Meris. 'Well, that's about it?'

Meris nodded. 'Yes, sir. The last of your equipment's been shifted aboard the Enterprise.'

Bashir nodded. 'I just wanted to thank you for all the hard work you've done, Meris,' he said, calling her by her first name. 'It's been a hard few years, but I think that you are ready to take over the reins here.'

Meris smiled. 'Thank you, sir. It's been a pleasure.' Her face dropped somewhat. 'Why are you going to the Enterprise?' she asked, her question going right to Bashir's heart.

Bashir paused, his mind racing. Why was she asking? The question was one of the simple, direct questions that Meris had proven uncannily good at asking – hard to avoid, hard to answer. He opted for honesty. He owed her that. 'I don't know, Meris. Admiral Picard asked me to do so, and it's not intelligent to turn down an invitation from the Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet, especially not an invitation as auspicious as that one. The Enterprise is the prime berth of the Starfleet, the best opportunity any Starfleet officer could have. It's an honour to be working there. But, I'm very sad to be leaving here. The Defiant is a fine ship, and has a fine crew.'

'I'm glad to hear you say that, Julian,' said Dax's voice from the door. He turned to see the Trill looking at him with her usual amused expression, but one that was tinged with sadness, it seemed to Bashir.

'Thank you, Jadzia,' said Bashir with a smile. He turned back to Meris. 'Can I have a word with Jadzia alone, please?' he said.

'Actually,' said Dax, stopping Yevlin before she could reply, 'You might as well both hear this.' She glanced at both of them before continuing. 'Captain Sisko just told me that the Constable was killed in the Delta Quadrant earlier this year.'

Bashir swore, and Meris bowed her head. The doctor turned away and rested his hands on the console. 'How did it happen?'

'It was an Aralla attack, apparently,' replied Dax. 'His runabout was caught in a beam of Aralla fire. If it's any comfort, he died quickly.'

'Cold comfort,' muttered Bashir, angry and upset. Odo had been a good man, and it hurt to lose your friends. Especially when you weren't there to help them.

Meris glanced at Bashir's angry face, and slipped out of the room quickly, allowing Dax to approach him. 'Julian, we're all upset by Odo's death,' she began, but Bashir glanced at her, and shook his head.

'Terrible as it may sound,' he said, 'although Odo's death was a big shock, I gave him up for lost a long time ago.'

Dax frowned at him. 'Why?'

'We'd lost so much,' said Bashir quietly. 'I've been fairly lucky throughout this war. It sometimes seems that alongside people like the Captain, or Miles, or even Admiral Picard, I've barely lost anything, except my job aboard DS9. When it came to losing something that I felt close to, like one of my friends -' Bashir took a deep breath, and Jadzia Dax saw the sadness in his eyes. 'When Miles died, I felt as if a huge part of my soul had been torn out. I've never known that feeling before.'

Dax nodded sadly, but stayed silent. Bashir continued, 'I tried to do what I could for others around me, trying to keep away from my own grief, but I finally decided there was nothing I could do about it. Eventually, I realised that more like this would happen – the Defiant is a front-line battleship. And Odo's leaving the Fleet felt like a death sentence to me – there was no way they could survive undefended in-between the advancing Aralla and the Jem'Hadar. I gave him and Captain Data up for dead – and forgot them.' Bashir looked at Dax with eyes that pleaded with her to understand. 'Do you understand?' he asked, giving voice to the unspoken message his eyes conveyed.

Dax nodded. 'I sometimes feel like that,' she said quietly. 'But I've been through a lot in my lives, and I've lost a lot, and I've never known anything like this. Such a fast and irresistible defeat and being pushed back so far –' She looked at him, with her eyes that held the wisdom of age within the body of a young woman. 'It affects everybody in different ways, and I know that you know that there is no one way of dealing with sadness. My advice is, if it works for you, then stick with it.'

Dax turned to go, and then faced Bashir again when the doctor said, 'Jadzia, wait!' Bashir glanced at the floor. 'There's one other thing. I have to tell people now – I've been putting it off.' He looked straight at her. 'I'm being reassigned to the Enterprise, and being made CMO there. I'm also being made head of what's left of Starfleet Medical.'

Dax appeared stunned for a second, and then her face broke into a delighted smile that shattered the cloud of darkness that had settled over her face after their conversation. She rushed forward and hugged him.

'That's wonderful news!' she said, when she broke the embrace and stepped back, and Bashir gained the impression that he had often received from her. That of a proud mother. 'When?'

'I've already cleared out my things to my new quarters, and I officially transfer tomorrow.' Dax smiled again, genuinely pleased for him.

'Julian, I'm so pleased for you – I haven't the words to express it.'

Bashir felt the cloud of depression lift slightly, as it always did when Dax was happy around him. She had the amazing facility to transmit her feelings to others, and Bashir always felt uplifted in her presence anyway. He smiled, and Dax beamed back at him.

Bashir had a feeling that she had accomplished her mission.

Sisko knocked on the door of Picard's ready room, and stepped in almost before the voice within said, 'Come.'

Sisko stepped through to see Picard picking up a padd from the desk before him, and then stepping around the desk to hand it to him. 'You requested my presence, sir?' said the captain of the Defiant, barely keeping the snarl out of his voice, ignoring the padd.

Picard nodded, and motioned to the padd Sisko held. 'Your new assignment,' he said, saying no more.

Sisko was about to nod and leave when he realised that the commander of the Fleet would not give you new orders by summoning you to his office unless those orders were something special. He looked at the padd closely, and then looked back at Picard, stunned.

'Sir?'

Picard nodded, and smiled at him. 'Congratulations, Captain.'

Sisko looked at his orders again, and read through them properly. He and the Defiant would lead a massive group of ships, numbering nearly nine hundred, known as Battlegroup Alpha. Sisko shook his head at the sheer size of the force, which included nearly three hundred Starfleet vessels of all designs and configurations. There was a good mix of Klingon, Romulan, Cardassian and Ferengi ships as well, but Sisko's experienced eye picked up the fact that his group tended to be weighted towards the speedier ships in the Fleet.

Sisko looked up at Picard, stunned into silence by the enormity of the plan. Picard had taken his seat again, and he said, 'The Fleet is being reorganised, Ben. In co-operation with the other fleet leaders, we've drawn up this plan. Six Battlegroups, each led by one of the fleet commanders. You have Battlegroup Alpha, General Martok leads Battlegroup Beta, Admiral Jaled Gamma, Daimon Kreal Delta and Gul Dukat Epsilon. Each of them ranges from between nine hundred and a thousand.'

Sisko cocked his head slightly. 'What's the sixth?'

'Battlegroup Enterprise, under my command. That is the Enterprise's personal defence squadron, four Romulan Warbirds, three Vor'Cha Attack Cruisers, and eight Galor-class starships, as well as three squadrons of Klingon Birds of Prey.' Picard abruptly turned away, and gazed out of the window into space. 'It's nearly time, Captain,' he said quietly.

'Time for what?' asked Sisko, his tone hostile. Picard turned and frowned at him. Sisko put the padd gently onto the desk, and said, 'This is the time, now.'

Picard continued frowning, and said, 'What are you talking about?'

'This,' said Sisko, jabbing a finger at the padd, 'is what I am talking about. I am the second in command of this Fleet, am I not?' At Picard's puzzled nod, he continued, 'I am to take over from you if you fall in battle? I am expected to lead this Fleet that you have created, you have spearheaded, that you have led for so long, if you die? How, exactly? I have been locked out, frozen out, not even consulted at any level about the direction and future of this Fleet, and what we shall do after the war, but you have consulted with Martok, Dukat and the others and you expect me to lead?' The last few words came out in a rush, leaving Sisko breathless and angry, but glad that he had finally said what was on his mind. He took a few gulps of air, and then continued, slightly more composed. 'I am sick and tired of the silence and lack of consultation that I am receiving,' he said quietly. 'I am isolated and marginalised, sat aboard the Defiant, awaiting orders that –' He broke off as he saw Picard's grin. 'What are you smiling about?'

'This is exactly the way I knew that you would react, Ben,' said Picard, mirth in his tone.

'With respect, sir, I don't see what's so funny,' said Sisko, nonplussed.

'The last two years, fleeing from the Aralla, have been bad ones for the Fleet,' said Picard, obviously beginning one of his speeches. It sometimes seemed that he had a bottomless source prepared for special occasions, Sisko reflected sourly. 'It has only been recently that I have begun to see the error of my ways,' the Admiral continued. 'I was attempting to preserve the distinctions, the differences, and the comforting, familiar rivalries that we had grown used to before the war. I now realise that this was a serious mistake.'

Picard stood, and looked from the window again. Sisko sometimes wondered exactly what he was looking at. 'Let me give you a bit of recent history, Captain, some that you will not have been privy to.' Picard took a deep breath. 'When we met Captain Janeway and the Voyager, I was stuck in a rut of my own making. I had become obsessed with two things; finding the Borg, and destroying the Aralla. I could not see that what I was doing was making a bad situation worse. The Fleet was weak, unstructured, demoralised. We had come through several bad defeats without seeming to take a significant step in the right direction towards winning this war. I was providing no leadership, and I realise now, with horror, just how close we were to fragmenting. Captain Janeway changed a lot for me.'

'How, sir?' asked Sisko, interested despite himself. He sat down.

'After Ensign Paris, I believe, died in the encounter with the Borg Sphere, she came and spoke to me, and she forced me to see something -–I had been the one driving the Fleet towards the rocks. I had lost objectivity - although that is not difficult in this situation – and my hatred for what I perceived the Aralla had done to me was clouding my judgement. Intentionally or not, Captain Janeway assisted me to see that. I had already taken steps, with the other leaders of the Fleet, to combat that, but that encounter made me realise that the problems were of my own devising.'

'Sir, I'm not quite following you,' said Sisko. 'I can't see how you have come to this conclusion. And I can't quite see what this has to do with me,' he added.

'In a moment, Captain,' said Picard. 'However, to answer your other question, I came to this conclusion when I told Captain Janeway that I was Starfleet – and I suddenly thought that was what all of the Commander-in-Chief's of Starfleet had always sought to avoid – a dictator in charge of Starfleet. At that moment, I realised that I was what the Federation knew, and had always known, would be it's death sentence – loss of flexibility, and one mind and personality driving it on, for better or for worse. This was reinforced by my review of an action that Admiral Jaled took. He had been elected Praetor of the Romulan Empire, and his first action was to pass this to me, reasoning that he was a military man, and thus unsuited for the role. I have also done some thinking, and I realise that it is the same for me – I am now a soldier. Once, I might have been able to fulfil these roles, but no longer. I am a soldier, and must remain so.' Picard sighed and looked at Sisko over his shoulder. 'Do you understand?'

'I think so,' said Sisko, who was having a slight information overload.

'Good.' Picard looked at the stars again. 'To continue, once I realised all of this, I knew that there were steps that needed to be taken. The first was to try and purge myself of my hatred of the Aralla – and that again can be attributed to Voyager's crew. Seven of Nine, the Borg drone – do you know her?' At Sisko's shake of his head, Picard smiled slightly.

'You should get to know her – it's an entertaining experience. She provided me with information that the Borg had attacked the Aralla and their home dimension a long time ago, forcing them from their planets. The Aralla are invulnerable to assimilation, but a strike on the Aralla homeworld resulted in the enforced move of the entire Aralla Empire's population into their mother ships – nearly four hundred.'

Sisko gasped. 'How come there are only five here?' he asked, mind reeling at the sheer enormity of the revelation. Four hundred Aralla mother ships!

Picard shrugged. 'I don't know. I believe it is because we managed to close the dimensional rift before too many could get through. However, I am not here to give you a lecture on Aralla history. I will present a full report to the Fleet commanders shortly, giving my sources.

'I realised that the Aralla were only doing what any sentient race would do – what, in fact, we are doing now: trying to survive. This is their way, but we have a different way. Because of their perceived betrayal, the Aralla have come to think of all other races as vermin, and therefore, we cannot reason with them. They simply consider us beneath them. And that helped ease my hatred of them, allowing me some measure of objectivity. Once I achieved that, I began to see my mistakes. Once I began to see my mistakes, I could rectify them. And thus, I began to see my biggest mistake.'

'That was?'

'The concentration of power. I forgot that I was only a man, only recently promoted from Starfleet captain to Grand Admiral. I began to take all of the problems of the Fleet onto my shoulders, forgetting that there were others to help me. I now know that I cannot do this any longer. Thus, my diversification of the Fleet. I have begun to trust the other races more – I cannot hide from the fact that I did not trust Dukat, Martok, Jaled or Kreal until I tried to know them better. I realised that each of them, in his own way, was a good man, and also a very capable leader in his own right. As are you, Ben.'

'Thank you, sir,' said Sisko.

'There is another part to this story, Captain,' said Picard, 'but you are not yet ready to hear it. I shall notify you when the time comes.'

Sisko nodded curtly. 'When should I take command of Battlegroup Alpha?' he said, before he realised that his original question had gone unanswered.

Picard turned and smiled at him. 'I know I haven't answered you,' he said, answering the unspoken question instead. 'Rest assured, I will. As to Battlegroup Alpha,' he added offhandedly, 'take command immediately. Dismissed.'

Sisko nodded. 'Thank you, sir,' he said. He turned, and left the room.

As the door hissed shut, Picard glanced down at the padd he had been working on before Sisko had come in. Yes, there was another side to the story, and only he knew it.

A new dawn was approaching, and Sisko would be at the forefront. Even if he didn't know it yet.

Seven glanced around Astrometrics one last time, sadly reflecting on the importance that this place had played in both hers and Voyager's lives. And now, she was leaving it behind.

Her regenerative alcove had been relocated to the Enterprise, as well as her few personal belongings. Now, all that remained was to disembark Voyager.

She sighed, turned, and left.

As she walked slowly down the corridor, lost in her own thoughts, she realised that the corridors had grown quieter and more deserted. She turned around, looking over her shoulder suddenly realising that she had not seen anyone walking down the corridor for the last five minutes.

At that moment, the lights went out.

Seven frowned in the darkness, her trepidation over her move forgotten. Tapping her badge, she said, 'Seven to bridge.'

There was no response. 'Seven of Nine to Captain Janeway.'

'Seven of Nine to Commander Chakotay.'

'Seven of Nine to anyone?'

More than a little worried, Seven began walking faster. She had been heading for transporter room two, and that was directly opposite the nearest turbolift. She continued on that direction, confident that the problem would be solved quickly.

She turned the corner –

And stopped dead, shocked. The lights came on abruptly.

A huge banner hung across the ceiling of the corridor, bearing the words, "Seven of Nine". Clustered before her were the senior crew of Voyager – Janeway, Chakotay, Torres, the Doctor, Kim and Tuvok. As well as them, Neelix, Ensign Wildman and Naomi Wildman were present.

Seven took in all of this in a state of disbelief. The others all clustered around her, smiling and congratulating her.

Slowly, Seven came to realise that the reason for all of this was what was known as a farewell party. The Doctor had evidently noticed her worried face, as he came to her and asked what was wrong.

'All of this,' stuttered Seven in reply. 'I didn't expect –'

'This?' interrupted the EMH, one of his annoying habits. 'I know, but that's the point. Sorry about the lights by the way – one of Ensign Kim's more melodramatic moments.'

'No –' began Seven, and then stopped and drew the EMH aside slightly and spoke softly. 'No, I mean the entire idea of a send-off, I think the word is.'

The Doctor was impressed. Seven was actually starting to use idioms of speech as opposed to her normal strict and formal style of speaking. 'Oh, I see,' he said, forgetting the analysis for the moment. He really would have to have a word with the CMO aboard the Enterprise. 'Well, Seven, you've proved yourself to be a valuable member of this crew. I know that Captain Janeway thinks of this crew as a family, and she's letting one of that family go out on her own. And she has taken an extra special interest in you from an early point.'

Seven nodded slowly. 'I am beginning to see. This is a celebration of the fact that I am leaving.'

'No!' The Doctor cringed slightly at the force of his protest which had drawn a few glances. He lowered his voice. 'What I mean is it's more a celebration of your being a member of this crew, and what you've brought to our lives. The interaction of individuals enriches life for humans, Seven, and you've done that for all of us. Me included.'

Seven nodded again, beginning to understand. She glanced around at all the expectant happy faces, and her gaze fell upon B'Elanna Torres. The other woman's face was making a brave attempt to be upbeat, but every so often – it was so easy to tell – she would drop back into her depression. Seven felt her heart ache for the other, but she also knew well enough that some things were never to be.

She bowed her head slightly, and turned to face Janeway, who had an expectant look on her face. 'Captain, thank you,' she said.

Janeway smiled. 'I know we've had our disagreements in the past, Seven, but I just wanted you to know that I'm very proud of you, and what you've achieved. I'm glad that you proved me right.'

Seven frowned. 'Captain?'

'That you could become fully human again,' said Janeway gently. 'You've left the home, Seven. You're a human again. Voyager's too small for you now, and you're branching out.' Janeway's voice became choked with emotion, and she stopped, embarrassed.

Seven decided to say her farewells. She turned to Ensign Kim first, who had been one of the first officers who had been able to accept her as a human. 'Goodbye, Harry,' she said, using his first name for the first time. Kim beamed, surprised.

'It was an honour, Seven,' he replied.

She turned next to Chakotay, who smiled and said, in his slow manner, 'Good luck, Seven.'

'Thank you, sir. We've not often agreed before, but I want to say that I've always had the highest regard for you.' Chakotay nodded gravely, unused to such a compliment coming from the ex-Borg.

Tuvok parted his fingers in the Vulcan salute. 'Live long and prosper, Seven of Nine.'

Seven returned the salute perfectly, a skill that she had gained from the Borg. 'Live long and prosper, my mentor. Peace and long life.'

The Vulcan raised an eyebrow slightly, indicating his surprise. Seven nearly smiled.

She looked at Neelix, who held out his arm. Seven surprised him by hugging him, and when she released him, Neelix's face registered his shock. She understood now that the Talaxians were a very physical people, and Neelix was one of the more jovial types they had ever produced. Something like this hug would be commonplace on Talax, but from her it was a very unusual thing indeed. Neelix beamed, looking even happier than usual. 'Well,' he said, 'it looks like I have taught you something after all!'

Seven smiled at him now, and then looked at Ensign Wildman, and her daughter, Naomi. The child rushed forward, tears shining in her eyes, and Seven knelt to hug her as well. Ever since coming aboard, she had felt a connection to this young girl, and now that connection was being severed.

'Why do you have to leave, Seven?' Naomi asked quietly, as she leant her head upon Seven's shoulder.

'Because sometimes you need to move on,' whispered Seven. She kissed Naomi on the cheek lightly, and then let her back onto her feet, standing up. Her mother came forward, and laid her hand upon Naomi's shoulder.

'Thank you for helping us, Seven,' said Sam Wildman. 'Naomi will never forget you, and neither will I.'

Seven began to feel sadness welling up inside her. She had never known such a sadness, and she did not quite know how to deal with it. She said farewell to Ensign Wildman, turned - and found herself looking into Torres' eyes.

The two stared at each other for a moment, and Torres began to say something, but then changed her mind. Instead, she held out her hand, and said, 'Good luck, Seven.'

Seven slowly took her hand, and said, 'Goodbye, B'Elanna.'

Torres turned away, her face perturbed. Seven looked at the Doctor and Janeway standing beside each other, before the small group moved silently together, one and yet different.

Seven smiled, a motion the ex-drone was becoming used to at last, and said, 'It was my privilege to serve with you. All of you. I hope to return once my time on the Enterprise is over.' She paused, trying to think of something else, and settled for, 'It's time for me to go, Captain.'

Janeway nodded sadly, her eyes tearing. They trooped into the transporter room, where Harry Kim took over the controls. Seven stepped onto the platform, and looked down at them all. She took in Janeway's sad smile, Neelix's cheery wave, Tuvok's solemn countenance, Chakotay's faint grin, Naomi and Ensign Wildman and the Doctor all smiling at her, and finally Torres, stood at the back, looking up at her silently.

Seven finally looked at Harry. 'Energise.'

The young man slid his fingers up the panel before him, and Seven of Nine dissolved into energy and vanished from the pad.

Bashir was undergoing the same ritual, although in a less restrained, and more light-hearted atmosphere, aboard the Defiant. Worf had come to see him before he left on his secret mission, and Sisko had just announced the new orders and assignment from Admiral Picard.

Everyone had congratulated him and Sisko on their new jobs, and now the little party was ending. Now, only Kira, Worf, Dax and Sisko remained to wish him on his way.

They all stood in the transporter room, waiting for Worf and Dax to come through. Worf had already said that he was returning to the Enterprise with Bashir, in order to help the doctor orientate himself.

He and Dax stood further down the corridor, talking quietly. He stroked her long hair with a gentleness that belied his strength.

'I'll be back soon, Jadzia,' said the Klingon. Jadzia nodded sadly.

'It's just... we seem to get so little time together. I haven't seen you in nearly three months, but then you go away on a big mission before we get a chance to get together again.'

'It's only for a few days. I'll be back shortly – just wait.'

'Well maybe I'm tired of waiting!' snapped Dax, suddenly. She looked away from Worf's hurt eyes. 'Sorry. It's not your fault.'

'I can ask Admiral Picard to find someone else for the mission,' said Worf slowly. Jadzia turned and looked at him again.

'Would you do that for me?'

Worf nodded and took her hand. 'For you, anything.'

Dax smiled. 'Then go on this mission. You should never compromise your honour for anyone – not even me.'

Worf stared into her eyes for another brief second, and then kissed her gently. 'Goodbye, Jadzia, my love.'

He turned and entered the turbolift, leaving Dax behind.

Bashir stepped up onto the platform as Worf shook hands with Sisko and Kira, and then stepped up beside the doctor. Bashir nodded gravely. 'Permission to disembark, Captain?' he asked formally.

'Permission granted,' said Sisko. 'Good luck, Doctor Bashir.'

'Thank you, sir.' Kira turned to the transporter chief.

'Energise.'

Bashir and Worf vanished, and Sisko and Kira were left alone.

'Power up transwarp,' said Janeway to Torres.

'Transwarp engines activated.' A slow thrumming noise resounded through the structure of the ship for a brief moment, and then faded as the Structural Integrity Field did it's work and harmonised the resonance of the transwarp with the normal hum of the warp engines. 'Engines are stabilised. Warp at your command.'

Janeway looked at the screen, upon which Picard was watching with a slightly anxious face. 'We're ready to begin trials, sir,' she said.

'Understood,' said Picard. 'Proceed when ready. Good luck.'

Janeway nodded. 'I'll report back when the first set of tests is complete. Voyager out.'

Picard's face vanished, and Janeway turned to the new helm officer, Ensign Foster. 'Ensign, set course 478 mark 547, warp four.'

'Sir.' Foster swivelled around and inputted the command. Janeway sat down. 'Course plotted and laid in.'

'Engage,' ordered Janeway. She knew that the next few moments of the test would be crucial. If Voyager could not form a stable warp field with the new power source attached to its engines, then the transwarp modifications would be less than useless. Janeway's ship had been chosen as the first because the Borg had already made several modifications to the ship and its power systems. Voyager would be more ready to take them.

The Voyager turned on its axis, and then the warp nacelles lifted slowly into position. It gathered pace, and with a single jump, vanished into warp speed.

'Warp field stable,' reported B'Elanna. 'Warp four achieved successfully.' She turned to Janeway and Chakotay, who looked at her expectantly. 'Captain, we are ready for transwarp.'

Janeway nodded. 'Activate transwarp at 20% of capacity. Let's not be too rough.'

'Aye, Captain,' said Torres. 'Activating transwarp in five, four, three, two, one -!'

The Voyager suddenly bunched itself up and threw itself and its crew even faster. The starlines on the screen all swirled together, and then ran into each other, forming a green tunnel effect around the ship.

Janeway looked at Torres. 'Status?'

'Transwarp functioning at 20%, speed now beyond warp ten.'

Janeway nodded. 'That's ten seconds,' she said. 'Slow down, and bring us to a full stop.'

Torres nodded, and programmed the computer. The tunnel changed to starlines, which changed to points of light and stopped moving. 'Janeway to Astrometrics. Harry, what's our location?'

Kim answered straight away. 'We've travelled twelve light years, Captain. That's an hour's trip at warp seven. I'd say it was a success.'

'Agreed,' said Janeway. 'Tuvok, inform the Fleet of our success.' She turned to Chakotay. 'I think that we're going to have to invent some new transwarp factors, Commander.'

'Yes, ma'am,' said Chakotay, grinning.

Picard smiled at the news from Commander Thames. 'Excellent. Order Voyager to return immediately, and ask Captain Janeway to come and see me.'

'Aye, sir,' said the young woman, and her face disappeared from the viewer.

Picard looked out at the stars. The first step in the defeat of the Aralla had been taken.