Chapter XX

Chapter XX

Data stepped onto the bridge of the Defiant, the hardest duty of any Starfleet captain bearing heavy upon his shoulders. Captain Sisko turned to look at him, weariness in his eyes. The long hours of tolerating the Borg refitting his ship had taken their toll on his patience. 'Yes, Captain Data?' He tried to rally his voice, but it came out flat and tired. Kira and Dax, also on the bridge, glanced at him, worry in their eyes.

Data took a deep breath. 'Captain Sisko, on our last away mission, Commander Worf and I managed to penetrate the Aralla defences and steal an attack fighter.'

Sisko looked at him, suddenly knowing the next sentence, horror rising in his eyes. Dax rose from her seat, fear and dismay visible in her expression.

Data continued miserably, 'Unfortunately, Commander Worf was killed –' Dax turned away, choking off a sob - 'during hand to hand combat with the Aralla.' He paused. 'He saved my life.'

Dax leant over the helm, shoulders heaving as she wept for her love. Kira had bowed her head, and Sisko stared, dumbstruck, at Data. Slowly, he raised his hand and pointed at the android. 'Get off my ship.'

'Captain Sisko, I –'

Sisko took a step towards Data, face frozen with anger. 'GET OFF MY SHIP! '

Data recoiled from the force of the shout, and fled from the bridge.

Sisko rested his hand on Dax's shoulder gently. 'Dax – Old Man –' He stopped, not knowing what to say. 'I'm sorry.'

Dax didn't turn to face him,. but she said, 'He died with honour.'

Voyager had arrived more than two hours before, and Picard had called a meeting with the Battlegroup commanders, anxious for them to hear Data's report as much as he was. However, the android had not yet arrived at the briefing, and Captain Sisko had declined the offer, preferring instead to read Data's report.

At the moment, Gul Dukat paced along the side of the room, speaking in a disbelieving tone. 'Many of our ships are badly damaged. We have lost some valuable personnel and equipment in this war. The fleet is badly disadvantaged by these losses. And now you suggest a frontal attack on the Aralla!'

Picard nodded. 'Correct, Dukat. The Fleet is very nearly ready for battle again. Advance patrols are scouting for new base of operations, we have new Borg refits on our ships, complete with more powerful weapons and transwarp drives. We also have the full co-operation of the Collective, as well as the invasive program, and our tactical data on the Aralla ships, plus the information that the attack fighter will yield to us –'

'All of which is useless to us if the invasive program fails,' interrupted Daimon Kreal. 'This entire attack is based upon a theory. If it fails, the fleet will be destroyed. How can you condone placing the survival of the galaxy on an assumption?' Picard leaned forward, certainty in his eyes.

'I would trust Data with my life, and have on several occasions. If he tells me he can defeat these invaders, I believe him.' Picard paused and glanced at the four before him. 'However, you are correct. If the invasive program fails, then it is up to you to get the hell out. If you need to, let the Borg cover you while the Fleet escapes. I'll leave that to the man on the ground to make that decision.'

'The man on the ground?' asked Jaled. 'Will you not be commanding the Fleet during the battle?'

Picard smiled at them enigmatically. 'I will inform you as to that when the time comes.'

Martok glanced across at Jaled, who returned the glance with a puzzled shrug. Picard smiled again, glad that he was keeping them in the dark.

At that moment, Data walked through the door, his stiff posture immediately telling Picard that his friend's emotion chip was deactivated. Picard responded in kind. 'Data, your report please.'

Data nodded impassively, and activated the screen on the bulkhead. Picard's mind flashed back for a second to a memory – Data in the same position, outlining the capabilities of the Aralla ships before their first attack, to Riker, Troi, Geordi, Beverly –

Picard pushed the memory aside, and concentrated on Data. The android displayed a map of the galaxy with a series of red lines on it. 'This,' he said without preamble, 'is the Aralla advance thus far.'

Gasps of horror ran through the room, and coming from such hardened warriors as Dukat, Martok and Jaled, it was even more surprising. Picard merely slumped slightly in his seat as Data continued, 'Using transwarp drives almost certainly captured from destroyed Borg Cubes, the Aralla have managed to destroy each and every M-class planet that rests between their origin point and this point here.' He indicated a small red dot at the base of the screen.

'What is at the second point?' asked Jaled.

'The mother ships. They have sent all of their city destroyers in several groups of indeterminate number and indeterminate composition to rendezvous with them there.'

'How did they do this and get past our patrols?' asked Martok, stunned.

'Simply by using the transwarp drives to skim past us during our negotiations with the Borg. That was the only time that we occupied enough.'

Dukat stared, horrified, at Data. 'You are telling us that they could have attacked us at any time, without warning, in the last –' He waved a hand aimlessly in the air, indicating his frustration at the situation.

Data said, 'Anytime in the last five months, I believe, yes. Now, we are prepared –'

'How?' asked Jaled. 'How do you prepare for an invincible enemy that can suddenly drop right into our laps, without any warning?'

'You can't,' said Kreal pessimistically.

'How do they know we won't just run through that gap in their defences and retreat back to the Alpha Quadrant?' asked Jaled.

'I think they believe that we need to destroy them as much as they need to destroy us. And they're right. We have to face them eventually, so why not here?' said Dukat. 'I think they know that we're not going anywhere.'

Picard agreed silently, but he glanced at Data. 'What else have you discovered?'

Data turned to the map, and displayed a map with the lines lengthened. 'We have worked out that the Aralla attack will commence in five weeks from now.'

'How do you know?' asked Dukat.

'The Aralla are using the position of the Unicomplex in order to co-ordinate their attack. We are at the exact centre of the co-ordinates they are attacking. They will reach their final destination in five weeks, and from there, they will attack us.' Data was presenting these theories as facts, allowing the generals before him no room to manoeuvre.'

'So,' said Picard, 'your recommendations, gentlemen?'

'We need time,' said Jaled. 'The Aralla cannot be allowed to make their attack at will.'

Picard nodded. 'I agree. However, we only have five weeks. The modifications to the Fleet will not be complete by that time.'

'Can we not send out harrying parties, designed to slow down the Aralla advance?' asked Martok.

'Unlikely,' said Dukat. 'The Aralla are invulnerable. All they would have to do is ignore you, and there would be nothing any of us could do about it.'

Martok nodded slowly. Picard spoke up. 'I for one do not want to lose any more ships than we have to. If the Aralla have set up colonies in the Alpha Quadrant, we will need every ship that we have to take them back.'

He gazed at the others with steely eyes. 'I have formulated a plan, one that needs refining and adapting, but one which I hope will give us victory over the Aralla.'

The others all nodded. Picard outlined the first stage in simple, brief terms. 'We need to find an M-class planet rich in dilithium deposits.'

'I've already pinpointed three, sir,' said Data immediately.

Picard grinned at him, pleased by his first officer's efficiency. 'Let's hear them, Captain.'

'Vegryo VII, about seventy light-years from here is the best option. Alvaris VI is also a possibility, as is Bosnar III.'

Picard nodded and faced the others again. 'We have three options, and Battlegroups Alpha, Beta and Delta will explore them. The important thing is not to be caught by surprise. Kreal, Martok, I need you to set out right away. Martok, you will investigate Alvaris VI, while you, Daimon, will explore Bosnar III.'

Martok and Kreal made as if to stand up, and Picard raised a hand. 'There is one last thing that I want you to do.'

They all looked at him, surprised. Picard handed out a series of padds. 'When we first formed the idea of a united Fleet, as I think the Fleet is becoming, I told you of a formal alliance that I wished for us all to enter into. I know that I speak to the representatives of the major governments in the Fleet at this moment, and I wish for all of you to discuss this plan with your governments in exile, before you make any decisions or comments. I expect you to contact me in the next week and give me your approval or disapproval in the next week. I expected to have longer, but we no longer have the luxury of time.'

The four leaders nodded slowly, not quite comprehending, and Martok and Kreal took their leave. Picard looked at Dukat and Jaled. 'I had a feeling at least one of you might stay.'

Jaled nodded. 'As you know, you are the Praetor of the Romulan Star Empire, Admiral. I do not see what this decision has to do with us. You are the final authority.'

'You know as well as I do that the Romulan people themselves have not been informed,' retorted Picard angrily. 'I've spent the last four weeks preparing this damn document, and I've done enough researching and looking around to know that they haven't been informed of anything. What's the game, Jaled?'

Jaled nodded slowly. 'You are indeed correct that we have not informed the Romulan people as to our decision –'

'I thought the Romulans prided themselves on their sense of democracy,' sneered Dukat.

Jaled winced very slightly at the jibe, and he turned a sad gaze on Picard. 'We are beaten, Admiral,' he said, very quietly, 'beaten and broken. The Romulan Empire was the first to be attacked, both back in the last century and at the beginning of this war. We have constantly been driven back, and our troops have suffered some of the worst casualties.'

Picard could not deny those facts, and it was certainly true that the Romulans had suffered greatly at the hands of the Aralla – but no more than any other race. He said so. Jaled nodded. 'Yes, I know that is how you look at it, and personally, it is the way in which I view the problem. However, the Romulan people are, by nature and dogma, prone to believing themselves superior to all others. We believed that Romulus and Remus were the Promised Land, effectively Vorta Vor, Romulan heaven, when we arrived and settled there after the Sundering. And now, we have lost everything. A non-Romulan could not understand this impact, although I am sure that the same general feelings reside in everyone in this Fleet. The Senate could not inform our people of the appointment of an outsider – a human – as Praetor. It could easily have caused a revolt against the Fleet and your leadership. It could have split the Fleet at a critical moment.'

Picard nodded slowly. 'I had not realised that the problem was that serious. In hindsight, maybe I should have.'

Jaled shrugged. 'It is of little consequence. Either way, the Romulan people must not - will not – find out. You are Praetor, but we cannot inform the Romulan people yet. They need two things – first, a victory over the Aralla.'

'Well, everybody needs that,' said Picard. 'And the other?'

'Alliance,' said Jaled. 'We need an alliance.'

Picard nodded, and realised that part of his plan was complete. With that, he knew that it would be easier to create the tentative vision that was rising in his mind. 'Very well,' he said aloud. 'Read the padd. You will be pleasantly surprised.

Jaled nodded, rose and left the room. Dukat eyed Picard for a brief moment. 'Are you not going to put the Fleet on full alert?'

Picard shook his head. 'There is no need for alarm. The ships are all fully crewed and ready. We cannot prepare any better for a surprise attack than we can for one we know is coming. I will not keep the Fleet on tenterhooks unless I feel it is absolutely necessary.'

Dukat nodded. 'I know what is on this padd,' he said, brandishing it for emphasis.

Picard nodded as well. 'I know you know. I'm just a little surprised that you didn't decide to blow my cover the second I even mentioned it.'

Dukat shrugged and turned to look out of the window. 'They can find out in their own good time. Myself, well –' he broke off and looked back at Picard, his face shrewd. 'The Cardassian Union is broken – dead and gone. We can never bring it back. And I assume that you realise that the Federation cannot return, as well as the Ferengi Alliance and the Klingon and Romulan Empires.'

Picard nodded, glad that someone else interpreted the situation as he did. 'I see we think alike, Dukat.'

Dukat smiled. 'Cardassians are realists – we deal with what we can achieve, rather than what we want. I want the Aralla dead – all of them. My people want that too. But more than that, I want peace. I am a war leader – I led the Dominion alliance with Cardassia. I am also a man who wants nothing more than peace and a safe place for my children to grow up in. I have failed to provide that so far. Now, I feel I have a reasonable chance of doing so, at last.'

Picard frowned, unsure of Dukat's meaning. 'I don't –'

'Grand Admiral Picard,' said Dukat formally, posture straightening to military attention, 'on behalf of the Cardassian people, I present a petition for alliance with the United Federation of Planets.' He held out a padd that he carried in with him.

Picard smiled slightly and stood. 'As Grand Admiral of Starfleet, I accept your petition.' He took the padd. He sat again, and looked straight at Dukat. 'Thank you,' he said sincerely. 'You have made things a lot easier.'

Dukat nodded. 'I know. I assume that details will be on the padd you gave us.'

'Of course.'

'Good. When will we learn the results of our petition?'

'Once the other applications have been received, then I will notify you. In the meantime, I request only that you read that proposal. Any comments, you know where to find me.'

Dukat inclined his head, and left the room. After the door closed, Picard clenched his fist in a gesture of victory. He had both the Romulans and the Cardassians! With a little luck, Martok and Kreal would soon also give their acceptance of terms.

He was winning.

Data, stood almost forgotten at the back of the room, stepped to Picard's desk. 'Well done, sir,' he said.

'Thank you,' replied Picard. 'I was most surprised by Dukat, though.'

'As he said, the Cardassian mentality tends towards realism.'

Picard nodded. 'Was there anything else, Data?'

'Although most of the information is on my report, there is one little piece of information that I did not want to mention with the others around, sir, and one that you need to know about now.' Data told Picard all about the parasites, and at the end of the briefing, Picard's face was one of utter dread.

'You say that the Aralla had incubation tanks onboard their ships?'

Data nodded. 'They had all of the equipment that would be necessary to keep the parasites alive and breed them. I find it very likely that they are the immature Aralla, and that they are used as shock troops or spies, as they were in the conspiracy.'

Picard cursed, remembering that those parasites had come very close to taking over the whole of Starfleet, until he and Riker had ended it – bloodily. He still had occasional nightmares about what they had been forced to do to Dexter Remmick in order to kill the parasites.

Picard put his head in his hands. 'I am now beginning to get a handle on the Aralla and their invasion,' he said. He motioned for Data to take a seat, and proceeded to give what he believed to be the history of the Aralla invasion. First, he outlined what Seven of Nine had told him about the Borg invasion of Cralzon, Boral and Aralla space, and their eventual defeat and retreat. Then he elaborated it with what he knew.

'The Borg, rather fortunately for us, left a small presence in Cralzon space after their withdrawal and the Aralla victory. I believe that they did this because they thought that if they found a way to penetrate the Aralla defence, they would be able to launch their attacks again without having to send another invasion force through. However, I digress. The Borg observed all Aralla activities after their withdrawal, and it is from there that I get this information.

'The Borg assimilation of the Cralzon and Boral gave them sketchy information about the Aralla, their physical make-up and their social structure especially. The Aralla were, in many ways, as much of a mystery to their partners in the Triumvirate as they are to us. When the Cralzon had first approached the Aralla about an alliance, they were rebuffed sharply, the Aralla claiming that they had no interaction with inferior races.'

'They called us vermin,' murmured Data.

'Correct,' said Picard. 'The Cralzon were not instinctively a warlike race – in many ways, their society was much like the Federation. The Boral acted like the Cardassians, and the Aralla much like the Romulans in those early days. However, over time the Cralzon managed to persuade the Aralla as to the benefits of an alliance, and the Triumvirate was born, almost a thousand years before the Borg came. The Aralla have a long history. Borg records indicate that they had had a spaceborne civilisation for nearly ten thousand years. However, the Borg forced them to become totally spaceborne. Before they were driven out, the Borg successfully staged a strike on the Aralla homeworld, destroying it totally. The Aralla were forced to shift their entire population, nearly eight billion, onto the mother ships and begin a nomadic existence.'

'Sir? A question?' At Picard's nod, Data continued, 'Why did the Aralla simply not shift their population onto another planet, instead of putting them into the mother ships?'

'A simple answer. The Aralla decided that the immediate objective was the expulsion of the Borg, but that took so long that the Aralla had grown used to their nomadic, locust-like existence. It became a case of if it isn't broken, don't fix it. The Aralla pursued the Borg all the way across the galaxy until they drove them back through the dimensional gate. The Aralla never learned exactly where the Borg came from, but I believe that they thought the Collective was once part of the Cralzon Empire, and that they had been betrayed by the Cralzon in an attempt to gain control of the Triumvirate – an attempt that backfired.'

'A little far-fetched, Admiral.'

'Maybe, but not when you consider the Aralla mind-set. They instinctively believe that they are the superior race, and that all others are below them. They followed that belief when they were approached by the Cralzon, when they fought the Borg, and in this war. The Boral believed that it was a rebellion by a race from within the Cralzon Empire, but the Aralla did not even concern themselves. They made an all-out effort to eradicate every other lifeform in the galaxy. As they drove the Borg back, they attacked planets that harboured life of any sort with a savagery that they displayed in this universe. That was when the Aralla first came to attacking defenceless worlds, simply because they believed that each planet harboured rebellion against their rule. Most of the worlds in the Cralzon, Boral and Aralla Empires were technologically primitive. Those that weren't were usually eliminated.

'However, I again have wandered off the track. The Aralla drove the Borg away, and began their roaming of the galaxy, intent on their destruction of every other lifeform. Remember, the Borg incursion took place four thousand years ago. The Aralla spent the time after the war wandering from planet to planet, destroying the populations, stripping the planet's of their resources, and moving on once the planet was exhausted. They carry their entire race in hibernation – something that your scans revealed.'

Data nodded slowly. 'The mother ships, not the city destroyers, diverted vast amounts of power into hibernation units. I wasn't quite sure why until now.'

'The city destroyers probably use that same power to energise the superweapons. Oh, and incidentally, the Aralla have names for their ships. The attack planes are Swarm-class fighters, the city-destroyers Cyclops-class destroyers, and the mother ships are Colossus-class.'

Data frowned. 'They sound like human names.'

'Correct,' said Picard. 'They are. The Aralla invaded Earth about four hundred years before the start of this war.'

'So Earth is destroyed there?' said Data pessimistically.

'On the contrary, the Aralla were defeated and destroyed totally.' Picard looked past Data's shoulder, a faraway look in his eye. 'When the Aralla made their attack, Earth was at the equivalent of late twentieth century technology. Humans had had no contact with any extra-terrestrial races, and warp speed was only just being considered to theoretically possible. The Aralla changed that. The Borg, by the way, observed this particular battle with interest. They had already discovered a small planet in this universe called Earth – they wanted to see how they would react to invasion.'

Data stared at Picard. 'They knew that Earth existed in the twentieth century? They didn't assimilate it?'

Picard shook his head. 'The Borg were only concerned with their assimilation in this Quadrant – Earth was a small planet on the other side of the galaxy, one which they earmarked for assimilation at a later time. When they first encountered the Enterprise-D in sector J-25, they realised that we were from Earth, the centre of the UFP. This was a surprise to the Borg, and they realised that they had to assimilate Earth rapidly, as the Federation would be a threat to their power.'

Data nodded slowly. 'Earth was lucky.'

Picard smiled faintly. 'Yes, you're right. The Borg had a Cube nearby, which observed the short battle over Earth in the other universe, so we have some information on how the Aralla were defeated. The Aralla struck without warning, as is expected, and destroyed many of Earth's major cities in the first attack. The reply was swift, but it failed spectacularly. The Aralla shields were easily enough to keep out the weapons being used – primitive air to air missiles from small jet aircraft. Attempts were made using nuclear weapons on the Aralla ships – to no avail.

'Then, the next day, another counterattack was launched – which was successful in destroying the Aralla city destroyers. But the big surprise was when the Aralla mother ship that was orbiting Earth suddenly exploded. Somehow, the primitive technology of those people managed to get behind the Aralla defences, lower their shields, and destroy the mother ship.'

'A shock for the Aralla, I assume,' said Data.

'And the Borg as well,' said Picard. 'They immediately performed a series of abductions and assimilated a few humans. Apparently, one of them had been involved in the plan to defeat the Aralla. They had captured a small attack fighter, got into the Aralla mother ship, uploaded a primitive computer virus, and destroyed the Aralla mother ship with a nuclear device. All with twentieth century technology. Amazing.'

Data nodded, impressed. 'I believe that the Aralla would have tried again.'

'On the contrary, the Aralla left Earth severely alone. A mistake as it proved. They were so surprised that they could not react – if they had attacked again immediately, they would have almost certainly destroyed Earth – humanity was barely able to fight off the first attack. However, much in the same strange way that major wars or cataclysms tend to precipitate, humanity became united across the globe. The Borg continued to observe as humanity, within a hundred years, discovered faster than light travel, more powerful weapons and set out to explore the galaxy. The first thing they found was the trail of death that the long war with the Borg had left, and then the ravages of the Aralla had exacerbated. This led them to the conclusion that the Aralla had to be eliminated.'

'What did the Aralla do?'

'They could do little. Somewhere in the intervening time – it was two hundred years after the Aralla attack on Earth that the humans first encountered them again – they had learnt to bring down the Aralla shields at will and destroy them. The Aralla, complacent in their superiority for so long – both mental and technological – were unable to fight back. They needed to develop weapons such as the ones that they have here. They couldn't – for whatever reason.'

Data interrupted him. 'Captain, I believe that the Aralla copy technology. They did not have any form of hand-held weaponry before they encountered us. They had to use extensive tracking devices just to hit the Enterprise in their first attack. Now, they use weapons that do not have to track ships. The only weapons that do are the primary weapons on the underside of the city destroyers. How is it possible that they could not do so in their own universe?'

'They've not copied human weapons,' mused Picard thoughtfully. 'Only Romulan and Klingon mainly. Cardassian and Starfleet weapons are based on phaser technology, whereas Klingon and Romulan weapons are disruptor weapons. Could this be something to with the way in which we construct our weapons?'

'What do the Borg say about human weapons in the alternate reality?'

'They sound like phaser weapons from the description given. Beams of energy, phased energy rectification, no photon torpedoes. Still using nuclear devices for strikes on the Colossus-class ships.' For a moment, Picard's voice was faraway, communing with the Borg. Then, he came back to reality.

Data was eyeing him cautiously. Picard gave him a grin. 'Sorry, Data. That happens when I delve into the archives like that.'

Data nodded, still not sure of the exact nature of Picard's link with the Borg Collective. 'The energy cannons mounted on the attack planes changed energy signatures between the battle for Romulus and the battle for Qo'nos. The mother ships and city destroyers were only using energy weapons from the battle for Earth. They all appear to be disruptor-based, even that cutting beam they've developed. That's new. And not only weapons. They're using warp technology, based on our warp engines as far as I can tell. And transwarp –' Data broke off. 'I can't quite understand how they do it.'

Picard shook his head as well. 'I know. The Borg have no information on it either.'

'Your history again, Admiral,' said Data, putting the problem from his mind.

Picard nodded. 'After the humans first attacked the Aralla, they pushed them back steadily. Ship after ship fell to them. Humanity pushed them back into their own space – Earth was in a tiny corner of Boral space; that was how they survived the Borg war – and beyond over about ten years. They finally fell back to a large planet that orbited a small star in the corner of their own space. Out of a starting total of about four hundred Colossus-class mother ships, they had forty. And, they knew, humanity was preparing for a final strike against them – one that would obliterate the Aralla race forever.'

Data nodded, finally seeing how Aralla history had led them to this universe. 'I suppose that the Borg moved in for a closer look.'

'Not quite. The human fleet that was building up to attack the Aralla ran into a party of Borg Cubes that was following them. After a failed peaceful contact, the humans managed to get aboard the Borg ships – much in the way we did when we first contacted them. And the Borg struck back – much in the same way they did to us.

'And the humans annihilated them. A swift, vicious counterattack that destroyed all four Cubes in five minutes. The Borg still don't know how they did it.'

Data frowned. 'What then?'

'The humans decided that the Borg were a more immediate threat than the Aralla – and they set off to eliminate them. The Borg realised that they had made an even more implacable enemy than the Aralla, and they decided to retreat fully from that universe. Their last contact was about thirty years ago, when the humans finally found their main Unimatrix. And that is where the story ends.'

Data nodded. 'Well, at least we now know why the Aralla hate both humanity and the Borg specifically.'

'Definitely,' agreed Picard. 'They must have thought they were going to die when they came through the gate to find us waiting for them.'

'And when they realised that we didn't know who they were and were defenceless against them -–' Data broke off. 'No wonder they're trying to exterminate us.'

Picard stared thoughtfully at the android. 'I wonder what's happening on the other side of the gateway? Are the Aralla still waiting to come through? Has humanity destroyed them? I wonder.'

'There is one last question, Admiral,' said Data. 'Why do the Borg call the Aralla by their name, rather than as a species and number?'

Picard shrugged. 'I am not certain. Indeed, the Borg are not certain themselves. The Aralla are not even the most dangerous race the Borg have ever faced, or the only ones that can resist assimilation. But there is something in the Aralla that genuinely worries the Collective, something that the Borg either want to have or want to destroy. I can't tell what it is, and the Borg won't tell me. But I want to know.'

Data nodded. 'Very well, Admiral. I shall attend to my duties.'

Picard was vacant now, ignoring Data. After a moment, he glanced up, but the android had gone.

Reg Barclay stared for a brief moment at the attack plane, as it was lowered into place by the combined tractor beams of Voyager and the Enterprise, now facing stern to stern, transporting the fighter from one to the other's shuttlebay.

Finally, the Aralla fighter came to rest and Barclay nodded to his assistants to shut the beams off. He tapped his commbadge. 'Barclay to Voyager.'

Kim's voice came back. 'Voyager here.'

'You can shut down your tractor beams now,' the engineer instructed.

'Will do. Thanks for taking it off our hands,' said Kim. 'Voyager out.'

At the same moment as Voyager cut the communications link, Barclay saw the blue beams of energy vanish from their grip on the attack plane. Barclay smiled slightly, and turned to his colleagues. 'Good job everyone. Go and get cleaned up and report to Engineering for debriefing.'

The four engineers all wore relieved grins on their faces as they left the shuttlebay, chatting idly amongst themselves.

Barclay made to follow them, but stopped when a scrabbling sound came from the other side of the bay. He turned, puzzled, and heard the noise again, like a claw scratching against a door.

He moved towards where he heard the sound, and when it came again, he realised that it was coming from the attack plane.

Under procedure, he should have immediately called security, but his curiosity was piqued. He stepped closer to the attack plane until he was stood alongside one wing. A small, dark shape lunged out of the darkness and hit him in the face. Stunned, Barclay fell without a sound.

Slippery sounds, like rubber on flesh, emanated from the bay, so quiet that they did not carry. A whimper of pain came as well, before silence reigned.

After a brief pause, Barclay emerged from behind the plane and strode purposefully towards the door. As he did so, he caught sight of his reflection in one of the shuttlecraft windows, and stopped for a moment.

He nodded, as if pleased, and then wiped away a smear of stark red blood at the side of his mouth.

Barclay left the shuttlebay, leaving the darkness to close in on the fighter.

Captain's Log: Stardate 53404.8 – Battlegroup Alpha's first mission is to explore the planet of Vegryo VII that has been earmarked by Captain Data for colonisation for the Fleet. I have taken the liberty of ordering full alert until we reach the planet – our travels in the Delta Quadrant have not always been peaceful. The crew of the Defiant is bearing up well after the twin blows of Commander Worf's death and Doctor Bashir's departure for the Enterprise. I look around me on the bridge, and try to forget the old times – but the memories keep coming back to haunt me now and again.

The Defiant led Battlegroup Alpha, all nine hundred ships of it, into orbit of the small, unexceptional green planet called Vegryo VII. An uninviting name, reflected Sisko sourly, but not an unpleasant planet.

'Order all Romulan ships to break off and remain in high orbit. They've got the best weapons and shields. Klingon Vor'Cha cruisers to form into Alpha-1 and Alpha-2 as we discussed. All other ships to follow,' said Sisko to Kira, who transmitted the orders.

The Romulans moved into a higher orbit while the Klingon attack cruisers split into two groups, one of which moved back out of orbit into a holding position above the northern pole, while the other moved into the same position over the southern pole. From there, they had an uninterrupted scanning range across the entire starfield, while the Romulans were able to keep guard around the equator. In theory, a slightly pointless exercise, it had the effect in practice of forcing the Klingons and Romulans to maintain contact at all times. Sisko was becoming more and more shrewd every day, something Picard had been able to spot at an early point in their voyages together.

The Defiant itself remained in standard orbit, as would most of the other ships. Four Ambassador-class starships and two Oberth-class vessels descended lower than the others, and began mapping the surface, scanning for dilithium deposits and suitable landing sites.

The main job was fairly tedious, thought Sisko. In the main part, this job did not require the services of the entire Battlegroup, but he needed to get a feel for commanding so many hundreds of ships, as well as the experience of using so many different configurations and capabilities together. For the first time, he was beginning to get an idea of the difficult job that Picard had done so well for the last few years, albeit on a smaller scale, and coming to respect the man even more for it.

However, the people and commanders inside the Battlegroup needed to get used to working together as well. General Martok and Daimon Kreal had left before Battlegroup Alpha, and Sisko knew that they had also taken their full command with them. Martok's was the largest of the Battlegroups, carrying most of the super-heavy starships, such as the Galaxy-class and the bulk of the Romulan Warbirds and Keldon-class Cardassian warships. Kreal was weighted more towards Ferengi Marauders and Galor-class warships.

Klingon birds-of-prey were scattered fairly evenly throughout the Battlegroups, as were fighter craft. Sisko's own group was weighted towards Defiant-class starships, and the Klingon attack cruisers. Dukat's group included the largest blend of ships, comprising ships from some of the lesser fleets within the main structure, while Jaled held sway over a group of Romulan Warbirds and the majority of the smaller Klingon cruisers. The Battlegroup specifications that Sisko was musing over were very general, for the majority of all the ships in each Battlegroup were Starfleet vessels. Only two Battlegroups actually predominated in any designs of Starfleet craft – Sisko's and Martok's. In all other cases, a goodly proportion of each class was under the command of each general.

Picard had chosen and distributed the ships under his command well. Sisko's eye, however, kept drifting back to the make-up of the sixth Battlegroup – Battlegroup Enterprise. A ten ship personal bodyguard for the Enterprise was all well and good – but unnecessary in Sisko's opinion. Why did Picard not subsume the Enterprise into another Battlegroup, automatically taking command of the group?

Sisko could not fathom out the reasons for Picard's decision to do so, and he didn't believe that he ever would -

'Sir, I've got a communication from the Ga'Roth,' said Dax.

'On screen,' said Sisko. A Klingon face, that of Commander Kalless, appeared on the main viewer. 'Your report?' asked Sisko.

'My scanners have picked up a flight of ten ships approaching our position, Captain. Bearing 578 mark 557.'

Sisko nodded curtly. 'The Defiant is on its way.' As the screen blanked out, Sisko glanced at Kira. 'Order Squadrons A-1, B-4, and C-8 to join us. Dax, take us to the head of Alpha 1.'

The Defiant left its orbital position, and soared up to join the Klingon ships, followed closely by ten Romulan Warbirds, three birds-of-prey and ten Defiant-class warships. Sisko didn't believe in taking chances.

As the Defiant, followed by its escort, moved into position, Sisko turned to Kira again. 'Order all ships to go to yellow alert.'

Kira nodded, and transmitted the command. Dax turned to Sisko. 'Commander Kalless is asking to speak with you again.'

Sisko nodded. 'On screen –' He broke off when Kalless appeared on the screen before he finished his order.

'What is the meaning of this? There are enough –'

'That is enough!' bellowed Sisko, his countenance never changing despite the force of his voice. 'I am your commanding officer, Commander, and I will have an extra escort whether you like it or not. Is that clear?'

Kalless nodded nervously, his face now respectful. 'Understood, Captain.'

'We will make contact with the unidentified ships. If we require assistance, we will go by the book. Is that understood?'

'Yes, sir,' said Kalless. 'Ga'Roth out.'

As the Klingon's face disappeared, Dax turned and gave Sisko an approving nod, which Sisko acknowledged. 'ETA of unidentified ships?'

'Two minutes,' said Dax.

Sisko stared at the screen, watching the other ships of his group form into a protective wing, just as he had laid out for them during the long journey between the Unicomplex and Vegryo VII. Finally, the moment arrived.

'Tracking ten ships dropping out of warp on the port bow,' said Kira. 'Battlegroup is adjusting position to compensate.'

'On screen,' ordered Sisko.

The screen changed the view of the starfield slightly to show ten ships, all elongated shell shapes, reminiscent of Kaelon warships that fought in the Fleet. Wide stern sections tapering down to a narrow point, each ship was about six hundred metres in length.

Sisko frowned slightly. They watched silently as the ships turned slowly, and faced off against the Battlegroup. 'Any sign of weapons powering up?'

Kira shook her head. 'Not so far.'

Sisko nodded, his face thoughtful. 'Hail the lead ship.'

Kira did so, and the response pleased her. 'They're responding.'

'On screen.' On the main viewer, a face appeared, one clad in shining armour, and wearing a face mask that obscured the appearance of their features. Sisko gazed calmly, waiting for the other to speak.

'I am Alpha of this group.' That seemed to be all that the growling, slightly mechanical voice seemed willing to say.

'I am Captain Benjamin Sisko of the Federation starship Defiant,' replied the Starfleet captain. The Alpha leaned forward slightly.

'So Janeway lied. She said there were no other Federation ships in this quadrant,' growled the Alpha.

'No,' said Sisko. 'I'm sure that when Captain Janeway gave you that information, she did not know any different. Our presence in this region is recent.'

If the Alpha believed him, he did not display it. Instead, he grunted and sat back. 'Why are you here? What is your interest in this planet?'

'We merely wish to make a base of operations here,' said Sisko. 'We have been forced to take refuge because of attack –'

'That is no concern of mine,' said the Alpha abruptly. 'You will vacate the area. The Hirogen have no interest in you or your kind. This planet is ours.'

'Is it possible that we can –' Sisko broke off when the Hirogen Alpha deactivated the comm-link.

Sisko glanced at Dax and said, 'Have the exploratory group completed their scans?'

Dax shook her head. 'Two minutes.'

'Sir, those ships are moving,' warned Kira. Sisko glanced up to see the Hirogen squadron start to advance slowly towards the Defiant's position.

'We're receiving communications from the other ships in the squadron, sir,' said Ensign Garth. 'They're requesting permission to attack.'

Sisko stepped to his chair and activated his link to the entire Battlegroup. 'This is Captain Sisko. All ships go to red alert, raise shields. Do not attack until ordered to. Defiant out.'

'All ships acknowledged,' said Kira.

'Tell the Orient to give us the scan results the moment they complete them,' said Sisko. The USS Orient was the ship in charge of the survey taskforce orbiting the planet. 'How many ships do we have facing the Hirogen?'

'Fifty, sir. The majority of the Battlegroup is still in orbit of Vegryo VII.'

Sisko nodded. Dax looked up at him. 'Captain, do we have to do this? Can't we just let them have the planet? General Martok or Daimon Kreal will strike gold at either of the other possibilities, so can't we just allow the Hirogen to have this planet?'

Sisko sat down in the command chair and glared for a moment at the Hirogen ships that still approached the group. 'This Fleet is now the major power in the galaxy, other than the Aralla. We will not be dictated to.' A glimmer of Sisko's old charm flickered for a moment beneath his grim demeanour as he smiled. 'Besides, we were here first.'

Dax nodded after a moment's consideration. She glanced at Kira, though, and her expression was worried. The Bajoran returned the feeling.

Ensign Garth suddenly spoke up excitedly. 'Sir, we've received the telemetry data from the Orient. They've discovered vast deposits of dilithium crystals, as well as excellent landing sites and colony areas.'

Sisko turned to look at the screen. 'That tears it,' he murmured. His voice was suddenly stronger. 'Dax, get me a channel to the lead Hirogen ship.'

Dax worked, and said, 'Channel open.'

The Alpha's face appeared. 'We have ordered you –'

'And now I'm telling you,' interrupted Sisko. 'This planet is ours by right of discovery – and if you fight, it will be ours by right of conquest. Get out of this system, or we will open fire.'

The Hirogen paused for a moment, and then nodded to Sisko. 'You will fight. That is good. The hunt is on!' The channel cut.

'The hunt is on?' echoed Kira. 'What the hell sort of gibberish is that?'

'It's called fighting talk, Major,' said Sisko. 'All ships, this is Captain Sisko. The Hirogen have resisted us, and we're going to teach them a lesson. Ready weapons and shields, but let them take the first shot.'

'Sir,' said Dax, her voice concerned, 'those ships have hulls composed of monotanium armour. We won't be able to get a lock on those ships due to the scattering effect it has on our targeting scanners.'

Sisko nodded. 'Does the problem affect any non-Federation ships?'

'The Ferengi ships use a similar targeting system, but Romulan and Klingon ships don't. They should be okay.'

'Tell all Romulan and Klingon ships to report to this position. And order Defiant squadrons B-1 and C-8 to fall back to holding positions.' Sisko glared at the screen again.

'What the hell are they waiting for?'

The Romulan Warbirds and Klingon Attack cruisers, flanked by birds-of-prey, all moved out of orbit, heading for what was turning into a tense waiting game. Abruptly, that deadlock was broken.

'Ten more Hirogen ships dropping out of warp to starboard, sir,' warned Dax. 'Another ten on our port quarter. They're powering up weapons, as are the first group.'

Sisko sat down. 'Red alert. Battle stations. Let them fire first, and then take attack pattern alpha.'

The Hirogen ships roared out of the starting blocks with startling speed, firing yellow beams of energy into the force before them. The Defiant, reacting swiftly, managed to avoid the first salvo, which slammed into the shields of the Romulan Warbirds approaching.

As the Defiant brought herself around, Sisko watched calmly as the other ships opened fire on the Hirogen vessels. Green Romulan disruptors cut into the shields of the Hirogen vessels, as the Klingon birds-of-prey harried them with disruptor fire.

The Defiant finally levelled off, and charged at the nearest Hirogen ship, firing her phasers wildly. The pulses struck the larger vessel amidships, and it replied with a fierce barrage of energy beams. The Defiant swerved away, but following it's attack were a pair of Romulan Warbirds, flanked by six Klingon birds-of-prey, which unleashed a storm of fire into the Hirogen ship. After a brief second, the Romulan ships added their fire to the barrage, and pummelled the Hirogen mercilessly. After a brief second, the Hirogen tried to make a getaway, but to no avail. The disruptor fire broke through its shields, punched through it's armour, and blew apart the warp core.

As the Romulan and Klingon ships pulled up and away into the rest of the battle, the Hirogen ship exploded into shards of spinning metal.

Sisko nodded, satisfied with the performance of the Battlegroup. He watched as another Hirogen ship was destroyed, their armour unable to stand up to the sheer volume of fire that the Romulans and the Klingons were unleashing.

A pair of starships, the USS Corona and the Stratos, flanked a pair of Klingon attack cruisers in much the same way as they attacked two Hirogen ships. A salvo of yellow energy crashed into their shields, but they held firm as they opened up in return. Quantum torpedoes and phaser beams hammered the Hirogen before the Klingons joined in. One Hirogen ship tried to pull away, but the Corona and the Stratos pursued, leaving the Klingons to deal with the other. The second ship crumpled under the barrage, blowing itself apart, as it's companion was harried by the Starfleet vessels.

Sisko was also pleased with his deployment – mixing heavy cruisers with escorts of smaller, more manoeuvrable craft. Defiant-class starships and birds-of-prey accompanying heavier Warbirds and Vor'Cha cruisers at the moment, but they were easily deployable in other ways.

Few ships were lost in the battle. For the most part, they were Klingon birds-of-prey getting a little too ambitious. The heavier cruisers stood up to the attack well, co-operating excellently with each other.

In short order, the Battlegroup pushed the Hirogen back. Only eight Hirogen vessels were destroyed outright, but two more were badly damaged and four were trailing fire. In short, Sisko's group could have devastated the entire fleet, but Sisko felt that he had taught them a sufficient lesson.

'Get me the Alpha,' he said. Dax did so, and the Hirogen appeared on screen. His face was bloodied, and smoke wreathed the bridge behind him. Sisko gave him a steely glare. 'I repeat my warning, Alpha,' he said. 'Leave this system. We've shown you what we can do. Don't let yourself be torn apart.'

The Hirogen stared at him for a long moment. 'One day, Captain, I will hunt you down and destroy you. That hunt will be glorious. But now, I am outnumbered and outgunned. I submit to you, but I am not defeated. We will return.'

The screen blanked out and Sisko watched as the Hirogen turned away and limped into warp speed. He pushed a control on the comm panel next to his chair. 'All ships, stand down from red alert. Well done.'

He looked at Dax. 'Signal Admiral Picard. We have secured Vegryo VII. And it's everything it's cracked up to be.'

Sisko turned and left the bridge. Dax sent the message, and turned to Kira. 'Are you worried about him too?'

Kira nodded. 'He's a lot more intense now than he used to be.'

'That's one way of putting it,' replied Dax. 'I'm very worried, Nerys.'

Kira smiled slightly. 'You're repeating yourself.'

Picard was seated in his ready room reading reports from Martok and Kreal when the call came through. Martok's report was frustrating – Alvaris was a washout, and Bosnar, despite containing high deposits of dilithium, was undergoing severe geological upheaval.

'Bridge to Admiral Picard.' Thames' excited voice broke through the fog of his concentration, and Picard looked up. 'We've received a report from Captain Sisko. Vegryo VII is secured and fulfils all criteria.'

Picard breathed a sigh of relief. 'Order all ships to prepare for immediate departure.'

'Sir, Vegryo VII is a long way away. How are the Borg going to complete their modifications to the Fleet if we're so far away?'

Picard smiled slightly. He had been waiting for that question. 'Well, Commander, we'll just have to bring them with us.'

He stood, put down the reports, and stepped onto the bridge. Thames turned, giving him a puzzled look. 'Sir, I don't understand –'

'Watch,' said Picard, and faced the screen. 'Commander Hedly, put the Borg Unicomplex on screen.'

Hedly complied, and the giant shape of the Unicomplex, surrounded by it's vast entourage of Borg ships, appeared. With a single impulse of will, Picard gave his order.

There were no complaints, no doubts – just compliance. For a brief second, Picard found himself liking the feel of having no arguments, no resistance. Then, he remembered that was why the Borg were so reviled and dangerous – they could not resist an order given, would not disobey a plainly insane one – because the very nature of the Borg was such that any order given was automatically right. Thus, if the Borg was insane, the Borg were insane.

Picard could see the activity around the Unicomplex now – ships being secured, systems being readied by drones all around the giant structure.

'When all ships report ready, inform me,' Picard said, facing Hedly. 'Until then, I shall remain in my ready room.'

Picard turned, and re-entered his ready room. Thames glanced back at Hedly. 'Seems slightly pointless bothering to come out,' she remarked.

Hedly shrugged. 'He's the admiral.'

Bashir sat in his office aboard the Enterprise, going through the crew's medical records, standard practice for any newly assigned CMO, when Hedly's voice interrupted his thoughts. 'Bridge to sickbay.'

'Sickbay here,' answered Bashir.

'Doctor, we've got a call for you, from the CMO aboard Voyager. Do you want to take it?'

Bashir set his padd down and said, 'Put it through.'

A face appeared on the viewer before him, and he sat upright in surprise as the face of Dr. Lewis Zimmerman looked up at him. 'Dr. Zimmerman!'

The face smiled in embarrassed denial. 'No, I'm the EMH of Voyager. Dr. Zimmerman was my creator. I simply look like him.'

Bashir nodded, realising that all early EMH programs had looked like Zimmerman. 'Ah, yes. I remember overhearing that you had become CMO.'

'Unusual circumstances breed unusual solutions,' said the EMH philosophically.

There was a pause, and then Bashir said, 'What can I do for you?'

The EMH paused, and then memory flooded back to him. 'You have a crewmember aboard from Voyager, Seven of Nine.'

Bashir nodded. Seven of Nine's medical record had been one of the first he had checked. He found the padd and called up her details again. 'I have them here.'

'Have you spoke with her yet?'

'Not yet,' replied Bashir. 'In fact, I don't think I've met her.'

The EMH looked slightly amused. 'Oh, well, that's an experience I wouldn't want to miss. Anyway, I wished to speak with you regarding her psychological condition.'

'She has a problem?'

'Not as such,' said the EMH after a moment's consideration. 'You have heard of regressed mental states, I assume?' At Bashir's nod, he continued, 'Most of these cases come from childhood – a mental defect sometimes, possibly during pregnancy. Seven is different.'

'Wait a second. You're telling me that a member of this crew is mentally regressed?'

'Not quite,' hedged the EMH. 'Seven's case is not unique, but it is unusual. She was assimilated by the Borg at an early age. She spent most of her life in the Collective, and was only recently freed. Thus, she has had to learn social interaction skills and so on from myself primarily, and the crew as a whole.'

Light dawned. 'Ah, I see what you mean. Have you a mental growth diagram?'

The EMH looked pleased at Bashir's intuition. 'I do, as a matter of fact. I'll transmit it, if you like.'

'Please.' The EMH pressed a few controls on an off-screen console, and then glanced up at Bashir, who said, 'I'd like to know why you didn't put this in your medical evaluation.'

'I didn't feel that it was appropriate. I've never actually told Seven that I've been charting her progress – I think she would have been offended. Plus, I like to keep things like this confidential. Now that you know about it too, I hope that Seven will be in the best of hands.'

A bleep came from the console, signalling to Bashir that the information had been downloaded, and Bashir quickly accessed it. He glanced through it, and then looked at the EMH. 'She progressed from emotional and social age of nine until about fourteen in three years. Not bad.'

'Not bad at all, considering she was almost completely asocial when she came aboard, and had a mental age of about thirty and an IQ of more than 200,' replied the EMH matter-of-factly. 'Her mental and intellectual attributes aren't the problem. What concerns me is that at a very delicate period in her development, she is entering a new social structure and a very important role.'

'You are concerned that she might not be able to fulfil the job?' asked Bashir.

'Not at all,' said the EMH hastily. 'I'm more concerned with the adverse effects that the pressures of her emotional development combined with a difficult role may have on her. Seven is a very dear person to both myself and the crew. What with the death of Captain Janeway combined with her other changes –' The EMH broke off, leaving Bashir wondering what he had been about to say.

'What changes?'

'I'm not at liberty to say,' replied the EMH uncomfortably.

'I need all the information possible,' said Bashir. 'I can't do my job without it – and it would be unfair on Seven of Nine.'

The EMH stared into space for a second before coming to a decision. 'Very well. This is absolutely private and confidential – don't speak with anyone other than Seven of Nine about it. Very delicate,' he added, although Bashir had already gained that impression.

'Seven of Nine, like many people who have had her condition, is discovering new facets to life almost continually. Some things are simply mundane, everyday, actions, but others are more special.' The EMH paused. 'Seven is falling in love for the first time.'

Bashir let out a breath and scowled at the hologram. 'You waded through all of that to tell me –'

'Please let me finish! It is far more than that. I have reason to believe that it may be a serious problem that might hurt Seven's progress severely.'

Bashir nodded, beginning to wonder what he had got himself into.

The EMH calmed himself, and continued, 'Seven is, as I have said before, a very delicate point in her development. I suspect that Starfleet policy does not include having starry-eyed teenagers aboard the flagship of a warfleet, and it is a critical matter.'

'With respect, Doctor,' said Bashir, 'I honestly can't see a problem. If it is effectiveness on the job you are concerned with, that falls in the prerogative of ship's counsellor. If not, I don't see what I can do.'

'It is a medical matter – it affects her emotional health – and her development must be –' The EMH broke off, looking slightly stunned. 'I apologise, Doctor,' he said after a moment. 'I have suddenly realised something. I am not making this request as CMO of Voyager, but as Seven's friend. You must forgive me. I have wasted your time.'

'Not at all,' protested Bashir. 'I need information on Seven if I am to do my job properly. If I read your evaluation correctly, then it is a medical matter insofar as her regeneration cycle must be monitored and certain other functions must be continually surveyed. I can do my job in that sphere. As to her development of emotional characteristics, I can keep track, but I cannot form the same relationship with her that you obviously have. From my perspective, I have to do a doctor's job, rather than a Counsellor's job. I understand that you have had to double as Counsellor, so that explains certain things to my mind. My only surprise is your interest in her love life.'

The EMH looked embarrassed. 'The main difficulty with that is the way in which it has been directed. The object of her affections is a crewmember aboard this ship.'

'You are concerned about the long period of separation?' queried Bashir.

'Not quite,' said the EMH. 'When the Borg first encountered this Fleet, they killed one of our officers.'

Bashir nodded, thinking he understood. 'Thomas Paris?'

'That's right.'

'She was in love with him?'

'Hah, if only!' said the EMH. 'It would make this problem much easier. No, to answer your question. She is in love with his partner – B'Elanna Torres, our chief engineer.'

Bashir sat for a moment, and then sighed. 'Oh.'

'That was my reaction, as well,' said the EMH glumly. 'She is in love with the lover of a dead man, one killed by the Borg, and someone who dislikes Seven intensely.'

'I understand your concerns,' said Bashir. 'But as I said, it is really none of my business.'

The EMH deflated slightly. 'I understand. I only hoped....'

'I know,' said Bashir, 'but we can't heal every problem. Sometimes we just have to step back and let nature take it's course. I'll see what I can do, but I can't honestly do that much.'

The EMH nodded sadly. 'Thank you, doctor. I appreciate this. Just don't let Seven know I told you.'

Bashir smiled. 'Your secret is safe with me.'

The EMH nodded thankfully. 'Voyager out.'

Bashir leant back in his chair, musing for a moment. 'Strange thing to be concerned about.'

He picked up the padd again and scanned the evaluation he had read earlier on Seven of Nine. This one might bear closer consideration.

'Captain?'

Data glanced at Hedly, who said, 'All ships report ready.'

The android replied, 'Ask Admiral Picard to the bridge.' He resumed his examination of the view before him as Picard came from his ready room, looking decidedly cheerful.

'Report,' said the admiral, as Data vacated his chair.

'All ships report ready for departure,' said Data, and then he lowered his voice. 'Admiral, only two hundred ships in this sector have yet been fitted with transwarp. Captain Sisko's group is the only Battlegroup to be outfitted with full modifications –'

'I do know this, Data,' said Picard, giving the android a slightly hurt look. 'The journey is only seven days at warp nine. The majority of ships in the two outbound Battlegroups are outfitted with modifications – the only reason for giving us the modifications is to fight the Aralla. Warp speed is still perfectly acceptable in the current situation.'

Data nodded. 'Understood.' He sat in the first officer's chair, and Picard glanced at him worriedly before he, too, sat. Data had become very depressed and withdrawn lately.

'All ships are in primary launch positions,' said Hedly. Those ships were those equipped with transwarp engines, allowed to go first.

Picard nodded. 'Why wait? Order them to launch.'

Out of the massed ranks of starships, two hundred began to move. Faster and faster they accelerated until they suddenly vanished in multiple flashes of light. 'They've entered warp,' confirmed Thames. 'Preparing for transwarp.'

The ships on her scanner kept accelerating until they suddenly vanished. 'They've entered transwarp.'

Picard nodded, satisfied. 'Let's go. Ensign Truper, set course for Vegryo VII, maximum warp. Commander Hedly, order all ships to follow. Reverse angle on viewer,' he added.

The Enterprise moved out of formation and vanished into warp. The bridge crew watched, mesmerised, as the vast conglomeration of ships immediately aft accelerated towards them and reached warp speed. But the best was saved for last.

The Unicomplex, all five hundred miles of it, began to move. Slowly at first, like the movement of continents, but gathering pace. Along it's black surface, thrusters and impulse engines blazed in unison, forcing the vast structure into movement. Alongside came it's enormous retinue of Borg ships, moving as one, under Picard's command.

Finally, the Unicomplex jumped into warp speed with a massive flash of light. Thames stared at her instruments. 'Sir, the Unicomplex and accompanying Borg ships have stabilised their speed at warp nine point five.'

'Excellent,' said Picard. 'ETA to Vegryo VII?'

'At present speed, six days, ten hours.'

'Captain,' Picard said, turning to Data, 'how will this affect your estimate of the Aralla attack?'

'It depends on the speed at which the Aralla can pick up our warp trails. The sheer number of ships that jumped to warp so suddenly means that they will linger for weeks rather than days. However, the most optimistic estimate is only a two day extension.'

Picard nodded. 'Two days is better than nothing.'

'Agreed.'

'Good.' Picard glanced at the padd he had carried through from his ready room, at a loss for something to do for the first time in days. Now, it seemed, there was nothing to do but wait.