The Colonel- Series 2- Sequel to the Colonel

by ray gower

Captain Janeway learns more about the Colonel and faces some home truths. Seven of Nines 'Involvement' becomes deeper and B'Elanna receives a much awaited proposal eagerly accepted. Of course catching the Colonel is one thing, keeping him is another

3. We'll Keep a Welcome

We'll Keep a Welcome

After it's brush with a Borg cube, Voyager finds itself in orbit above a late 20^th Century Earth. It leaves the Captain with an uncomfortable decision and all her questions answered. Both the Colonel and Seven of Nine also find they have choices to make..

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

The story line the Colonel and additional characters are my own.

Constructive criticism and comments are welcome on e-mail story@rgower.f9.co.uk.

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

This story is rated PG13

©R Gower 2000

Four-days after their brush with the Borg and their time machine, Voyager slid silently into a high orbit around the Earth. It had been a journey that was typified by Seven of Nine desperately trying to keep close to the Colonel, and him desperately trying to keep away. To try and encourage a gap to form between them, he had moved his quarters, nobody was certain where, though his pack had been seen in the shuttle bay.

In a last desperate attempt to get him to agree to stay with the ship, the Captain ordered him to attend a private dinner with Chakotay, Seven of Nine and herself. He had accepted the order, but it had been obvious from the moment he arrived that despite the calm exterior, the feelings he obviously felt for her and vice a versa, their close proximity was hurting him deeply. Finally she gave up. Though she noted that when they finally parted, Seven of Nine had managed to get herself close enough to the Colonel to hold him tightly. The Colonels eyes had been bright with tears as he finally managed to prise himself away. There was some cause for hope, she reasoned.

She promised herself to make damn sure she got to talk to his Commanding Officer, if not for herself and the ship, then for the comfort of Seven of Nine.

Despite the misgivings of the Captain, fearing he would simply disappear, the Colonel was beamed, on his own, to a quiet road three miles from the camp he had identified as his regiments home barracks. He took a moment to look around and ensure himself he had not been spotted then moved to a telephone booth. He did not want his mysterious appearance to be spotted if possible, nor did he want to have to explain away a formal Away Team to all and sundry, until he had a chance of talking to his own boss.

Quickly he dialled a number from memory, "General's office," a male voice replied.

"Lieutenant-Colonel Samuels, Sir," he replied calmly, "Permission to report to you, Sir?"

There was a gasp at the other end of the line, then, "Where the Hell have you been? No, never mind, tell me when you get here, I'll have the Sergeant-Major waiting for you at the gate in?"

"Thirty minutes Sir," the Colonel responded.

Putting the phone down he set of at his steady quick march.

Lieutenant-General Fletcher glared at the phone for several minutes, not believing the brief conversation he had just had. Finally deciding that the voice he had just heard must have been genuine he bellowed, "Corporal Armitage!"

The balding head of his secretary, Corporal Armitage, appeared around the door frame, "Sir!" It snapped.

"Who's on the gate tonight, us or the Guards?" He asked irritably.

"The Guards, Sir!"

"Go and find the Sergeant-Major, give him my compliments and tell him I owe him a tenner, then tell him to go to the Guard Room and wait. He's not to allow the Guards to be hurt. He'll know what I mean," he ordered.

"Sir," the head disappeared, to be replaced by the sounds of a rapidly receding quick march.

The Gate Guard watched the tall figure approach at a fast but steady gait, prepared to challenge the stranger when he came within 50 yards of the gate he was guarding. He levelled his rifle threateningly, but was brought up short by the stranger speaking first.

"I know you're only a Guardsman, but you should know better than to hold a rifle like that!" He snapped, "Now kindly tell Sergeant-Major O'Neil to stop hiding in the guardroom?"

The Guard looked at the stranger carefully, then snapped to attention, spotting the Colonel's rank. "Sir, I must have positive identification, Sir!" He snapped back.

"Unfortunately my 20-50 got destroyed a few years ago," the Colonel replied levelly, "That is why I have an appointment with General Fletcher, and the Sergeant-Major is waiting for me in the Guard Room. Now if you would be so kind?" He explained patiently.

The Sergeant Major stepped out, a broad smile on his face. "Jesus, I was beginning to think you'd really got yourself killed this time Sir!" He announced happily, snapping to attention and saluting.

The Colonel returned his salute, "You know my opinion on blasphemy Sergeant-Major?"

"Sir! Sorry Sir, But you've changed, I barely recognised you!" He replied, still smiling.

"Excuse me Sir. Who should I put in the visitors book?" The nervous guard asked.

"This," the Sergeant-Major announced proudly, "Is the Lieutenant-Colonel Samuels, of the 60th."

Turning to the Colonel he intoned, "This way Sir!"

They set off at regimental quick march. The gate guard watched them go, "Who is he, Sarge?" he asked of the Duty Sergeant.

"The biggest, meanest, toughest and most evil bastard ever to be put in command of a regiment," the old sergeant replied knowingly. "If he's back just be thankful you're nice and safe in the Guards and stand behind him, son."

"Lieutenant Colonel Samuels and Sergeant-Major O'Neil, Sir," announced Corporal Armitage happily, ushering the Colonel into the General's office.

The Colonel came to attention and snapped a salute.

"At least you've remembered how to salute, even if you forget how to return to barracks," General Fletcher barked, returning the salute and smiling.

"Sir!"

"Stand at ease, better still sit down. You look distinctly well for somebody listed MIA, been sunning yourself on a beach?" General Fletcher commanded, stepping back and examining the tall soldier cynically.

"Sir!" The Colonel snapped in shock at the preposterous suggestion.

"Then you had better tell me why it's taken you two years to find your way back then hadn't you? And just as importantly why you look as young as those snotty nose kids from Sandhurst?" Fletcher growled, "Then I'll work out what to do with you."

"Sergeant Major, arrange some tea, then make sure we are left alone. Armitage take notes, I'll edit it later," he ordered, passing the Sergeant-Major a crisp ten-pound note, "My dues," he intoned.

"Sir! Knew you were a gentleman Sir!" The Sergeant Major crowed taking the money and left.

The Colonel related his story to the increasingly incredulous General.

"If I didn't know the circumstances of your disappearance, I wouldn't believe a word of your story," General Fletcher growled, when the Colonel finished his tale.

"I keep expecting to hear of your precipitous demise, perhaps the S/M is right, you can't be killed. At least you seem to have upheld the honour and traditions of the Regiment, impossible odds and all," He admitted. "Wafting around with a bunch of foreigners in the 26th Century and accepting a field commission in a foreign service is no good, nobody will believe it. Are they a threat to us?"

"Sir! Their rules prohibit them to get involved with worlds that have not made interstellar contact." The Colonel responded emphatically, "Captain Janeway follows the rules!"

"You trust them?"

"Sir!"

General Fletcher grunted, "And they must trust you, otherwise you wouldn't be here," he commented, "When can I meet the people who you've been looking after?"

"You wish to meet them, Sir?" The Colonel asked in surprise.

"Of course, how else can I validate your story? It's fantastic even by your standards," He replied levelly.

"Sir! The General will remember I do not lie, Sir. And it will be contrary to their Rules of Engagement, Sir!" The Colonel protested.

"The alternative is I get the MO in and have you certified insane?" The General threatened.

It was the Colonel's turn to sigh. "I'll contact them directly, Sir. Will this afternoon do, Sir?"

"I'll ensure we are on the gate," the General agreed levelly.

"Sir! That will not be necessary, I can have them beam themselves to the hanger?"

"Pardon me, it's high technology week," the General apologised sardonically, "That will do nicely. C Company can meet them. We'll have lunch and you can tell me about this Miss Seven of Nine, you deliberately avoided telling me about."

"Don't look surprised at me, Colonel, I've served with you all your army life, what you don't tell me is as evident as what you do," he smiled.

"Armitage advise the Mess I want the private room. Then advise Major Fletcher that we will have guests for dinner."

"Sir!" Announced the Corporal and disappeared.

"You've taken quite a shine to this, Miss Nine haven't you?" The General probed over their lunch.

"Yes Sir," the Colonel admitted.

"As much as your wife?"

"I'm sorry to say, Sir, I think it may be deeper," he admitted again.

"Why did you come back, you stupid sod?" The General queried, shaking his head in despair, "If you hadn't, there would be nothing to worry about."

"Voyager needs the parts I told you about, Sir. I had to return."

The General sighed, "What time will they arrive? And who will they be?"

"15:00 hours, Sir. Captain Janeway, Commander Chakotay and Miss Nine will form the party I believe."

"Permission to ask a question, Sir?"

"Carry on Colonel," the General agreed carefully, he had worried about when the questions would appear.

"Why are we back in the UK, Sir?"

"We've pulled out of Belize remember?" The General replied, "The Americans have decided they don't need us to look after them anymore. But we are still the first up on the quick and dirty list. Colonel Smithe is proving to be a good replacement for you, but then you knew that, you trained him," he assured him.

"Yes Sir," the Colonel replied thoughtfully.

"I need to see the blacksmith this afternoon Sir, my sword was damaged a couple of days ago and I need to see about a replacement. Permission to leave the camp Sir?" He asked.

"Provided you back in time to see your friends," the General replied evenly, "You're not good at goodbyes, but this is one you will have to make in person. So if you're not back, I will send the guard after you!"

"Sir!" The reply was crestfallen. He got up, saluted and left.

The local village blacksmith was a craftsman of his trade, more importantly to the Colonel, he had also been one of the ex-convicts that had made up the regiment, and knew the nature of the Colonels favoured close quarters weapon. He had served his time and had managed to set up his smithy near the barracks of his old regiment, with his due's to society duly wiped.

"Corporal Jones?" The Colonel called entering the workshop and looking around.

"Colonel Sir!" The smith called in delight, "I thought you'd finally bought it?"

"You know my reputation, Corporal. I'm very difficult to kill off!"

"Sir! What brings you to my humble shop? I'm still clean!" He grinned.

"I need your help. You remember that sword I always used?" The Colonel queried.

"Three foot, multilayered semi-straight steel blade, copper and silver inlayed and engraved, half guard, leather bound handle. Presented by the Japanese ambassador 1987," the smith recalled.

"That's the one. I broke it, I'd like a new one, if you think you can manage it?"

The smith drew in his breath, "That was a superb blade Sir, it must have taken some poor sod months to make," he pondered.

"I know and you're a superb blacksmith if I remember right Corporal," the Colonel complimented, "I know certain cavalry officers still come to you for new ceremonial swords, this is your chance to make a real one!"

The smith considered the prospects carefully, to replace the blade would be a feat of workmanship, especially as the Colonel would almost certainly use it to its full capability. "I'll do it for you, Sir!" He announced at last. "I assume you want it quickly? I've a few jobs on at the moment, but I can put them aside for a couple of days and I have a couple of blanks for a nob in the Household Cavalry, I can use one of those. Give me three days then come and see me for measuring Sir!"

"Thank you Corporal. I know there's a lot of work in it. How much will it cost?"

The smith pondered the question carefully. "Well Sir," he said at last, "It's like this Sir. There will be about 100 lbs of steel needed to make a sword like that, because most of it gets burnt away, the copper and silver will easily cost £100, plus the work, you're looking at a grand, Sir."

The Colonel blanched visibly.

The Smith saw him flinch and continued quickly, "You helped set me up proper like, without the fuzz peering down my neck every time a safe is blown, then there was the schooling you got for the kids, Sir. Let's call it quits Sir!" He pleaded in a fit of compassion for his former Commanding Officer.

"Thank you very much, Corporal. If you're sure? Then I'm very grateful to you," the Colonel announced in surprise, taken aback by the generosity of his ex-corporal.

From the smithy he walked to the village church, via a small wooded glade. Noting the primroses and bluebells in bloom, he stopped to pick a few to make into a posy, then continued his stroll into the church cemetery. Carefully he picked his way through the stones until he found one small grave stone near the wall, there he knelt and gently laid his posy in front of the stone.

"I'm sorry love, but I've been away, it's the best I could do," he apologised to it, then settled down to pray for his ex-wife's forgiveness, his inability to place flowers and for having fallen in love with someone else. Unconsciously his hand strayed into his tunic and withdrew his wedding ring which he started to twist in his hand as he prayed.

He was startled by a hand alighting on his shoulder and looked around to find the vicar of the parish.

"Not many people come and mourn in the soldier's cemetery, my son," claimed the elderly cleric, "Was it one of your family?"

"It was my wife Sir! You should know, you conducted the Service!" The Colonel stood to face the portly Cleric.

The Parson looked hard at the tall man in front of him.

"You can't be," he announced sharply, "You look nothing like him, there's no scars and you're much too young."

The Colonel sighed, "Despite appearances, I am whom I claim to be. And I've done organ recitals in your church in aid of various causes for nearly twenty years. I also have more pressing problems, Sir!" He tried to dismiss the troublesome man.

The Parson studied him carefully. "I can see you are troubled Son, would you like to confess them to me and the Lord?"

The Colonel pondered the question, "Talking may help me find a couple of answers," he agreed at last. "But I warn you, you won't believe a word I say!"

"Perhaps, but the good book says the Lord sees everything, does it not? Come into the Church. Perhaps you will demonstrate how well you used to play?" The vicar commanded.

For the second time that day, Colonel Samuels found himself explaining the last two years of his absence.

The Captain and her away party beamed to the coordinates given them by the Colonel, to be met by the regiments C Company. They stared bemused at the thirty fully armed soldiers as they snapped through the rhythmic sequence of 'Present Arms'. A middle aged woman approached them and snapped a salute to them.

"Major Anne Fletcher, C Company, 60th Rifles!" She introduced herself formally, "We were requested to meet you, Captain. Would you care to inspect the guard?"

"I can see they match the Colonel's standards for presentation," Captain Janeway complimented the Major, after strolling down the rank of immaculate soldiers, "He always makes me feel a little scruffy," she added with a smile.

"We try Captain," the Major agreed, as her company fell in around them, "If you would care to follow us?"

"Do we get a choice?"

"No," she admitted cheerfully, then called in a louder voice, "C Company, by the left, forward march."

Their guard started to march, at the same pace the Captain noticed with horror, as the Colonel always used.

"Doesn't anybody here walk?" She moaned to the Major as they were swept along at a fast jog.

"Walk Captain? No, this is a Rifle Regiment, we march, the fastest marching troops in the world, We leave walking to the Guards!" The major informed her impassively.

"What do you do if you need to get somewhere quickly?" The Captain gasped when they arrived outside the General's office.

"We march faster," came the glib reply as she and her party were shown into the office.

The General was waiting for them, he saluted and bowed towards them as they entered.

"Lieutenant-General Horace Fletcher, Captain Janeway, at your service Ma'am," he introduced himself, then gallantly took her hand and kissed it.

"This is where the Colonel got his manners from?" She asked in delight.

"Actually it was the other way round," the General admitted, "He believes that no matter what the status of a woman, they would all like to be treated as a lady, blow me if he's not right!"

The Captain examined the General in amusement. He was well over fifty years in age, his greying hair thinning. Not as tall as the Colonel at perhaps 1.8 Metres, but broader, suggesting a less regimented exercise regime.

"May I introduce the rest of my party?" She asked brightly.

"Please do!"

"My second officer, Commander Chakotay."

"Commander," the General greeted him with a salute and warm handshake, taking Chakotay quite by surprise.

"And Seven of Nine," she finished.

"Miss Nine."

He examined her straight frame closely. "It's a pleasure to meet anybody who can impress Samuels as it appears you have done. It's most remarkable!" He greeted her, kissing her hand as he had the Captains, while she gazed on impassively.

He turned back to the party, "Samuels has been impressed by you and your crew, Captain. Believe me, that is not an easy distinction to achieve." He announced, "But before you begin to impress me, can I get you refreshments, tea or coffee? And please make yourselves comfortable!"

"Thank you! Tea would be quite acceptable," the Captain spoke for them.

"Armitage!" The General shouted for his secretary.

"Sir!" The Corporal's smiling face appeared around the door frame.

"Tea all round, civilian strength, we have guests!"

"Sir!" He disappeared again.

"Would have made some lady a wonderful wife, that man," he commented brightly. "Now Captain. Lieutenant-Colonel Samuels has itemised the parts you need for your ship. I find them a little surprising, but I have agreed to assist you. I've got people looking into them for you right now. I don't know how well we'll do and it might take a day or two. I've also tapped into a couple of nutty professors I know at the University, they may have an idea as to who the lunatic is, that invented the machine you're having problems with. If you can supply the damaged parts to me, I can have our workshop look at them to see if we can manufacture anything else you need. If you have any better ideas then I'm all ears?" He briefed her rapidly

"I've nothing to suggest," she admitted in amazement, "Thank you for your cooperation."

"It's not a problem, the sooner we can get rid of you the less likely some idiot with a telescope will spot your ship. If that happens we'll have the Americans taking pot shots at it simply because it's not theirs, it would end in a war!"

"There are other reasons why I wanted to meet you, both official and unofficial. The official reason is that I need independent affirmation for the Colonel's testimony, then perhaps some idea as to what to actually put in his debriefing notes and what to do with him now?"

"You do not believe him?" Seven protested in shock.

"My dear Miss Nine," General Fletcher replied comfortably. "The only reason he is not under close arrest now, awaiting a shrink to pronounce him barmy and I am talking to you now, is because I know he is totally honest and hasn't the imagination to make up the story he told. I'm told he was abducted by aliens during a fire fight, the only proof I have is the word of a Sergeant-Major who is devoted to him. To a shrink that would scream he ran from a skirmish and they would hold up his record to prove he must have cracked at last. Two years later he turns up with another group of aliens that he claims are friendly and from 600 years in the future. Even worse he claims he has fallen in love with one of them and he has taken a commission in their service. That is the sure sign of a madman!"

"The trouble is I have superiors as well, and they are faceless bureaucrats' who have neither an ounce of imagination, nor the privilege of knowing the Colonel," he confessed, bitterness showing in his voice. "I have told them he was abducted, simply because it would cause too many problems otherwise, but I won't tell them anything about aliens. A few rumours won't make a difference, I can write those off as the residual effects of Jungle Fever' to them upstairs. Me saying one of my men has spent two years swanning around the Cosmos is going to raise eyebrows."

"I need an independent view of the truth. Then I can get Armitage to rework it into an acceptable form for the closed minds at the MOD and the fevered imagination of our illustrious American allies," he smiled encouragingly.

"Where is the Colonel?" asked the Captain curiously, "We had thought he would meet us? Not hiding from us is he?"

"He requested to go and see Jones the blacksmith, apparently he broke that damned sword of his in a disagreement with somebody. I hope you will enlighten me? It's not an issue weapon, but he was attached to it."

"He should be back by now though," he commented, "Major ask S/M O'Neil to go and find him would you?"

"Sir!" Came the instant reply, as the Major ran out the room.

"Now Captain, your version of his story?" The General commanded.

Captain Janeway sat back and commenced to tell the story of Voyager and the Colonel's involvement.

When the Colonel finished his tale, the parson exclaimed, "I remember you now!"

"You always seemed to be giving and refusing to accept anything from those around you, simply because it was your duty!" The Parson reminisced. "Giving everything you have is very noble, but others have to be able to give to you as well. Perhaps you should take this as a second chance to live properly and accept that others would like to give to you as well?"

"You believe that this Miss Seven of Nine and the people who looked after you are still in danger, despite your actions?" He continued.

"Yes Sir!"

"And you are truly in love with Miss Nine? I remember the escort that your regiment gave you to make sure you arrived, would they need it again?"

"Yes Sir, I am. The second question doesn't apply, I have been married," he answered with certainty.

"It is possible to have a second marriage conducted in church under the right conditions, and your case would qualify," the old parson informed him gently.

"Does she love you?"

"She seems very fond of me," the Colonel admitted carefully.

The cleric grunted.

"Give me that ring you're playing with," he ordered a ring of steel appearing in his quiet voice, as he pointed to the ring the Colonel was still twisting between his fingers.

Before the Colonel could protest he snatched the wedding ring from out of his hand and examined it, "I shall put this where it belongs, with your ex-wife," he announced, before the shocked Colonel could protest.

"It's time you followed your heart, not your duty. See Horace when you get back to barracks and get him to release you and persuade Captain Janeway to take you with her. Bring your Miss Nine here for blessing, then when you come to your senses it won't matter," he commanded firmly.

"It's not that simple Padre!" Exclaimed the aghast Colonel.

"Yes it is! Do you think you're the first man I've seen who is scared of the possible consequences of getting involved with a woman, simply because he might die tomorrow," He responded sharply, "Think about it, Samuels!"

"Now I see Patrick O'Neil is looking for you, so it is time you went. I will see you tomorrow. Good afternoon Alan Samuels," the Parson turned towards his vestry.

"General's compliments, Sir!" Announced Sergeant Major O'Neil, "Your presence is requested by the General Sir!"

The Colonel sighed, "Carry on Sergeant Major."

The Captain finished her version of the Colonel's story. The General pondered it carefully. Then started, "You are sure there was only forty Borg on your Bridge?"

"The figure is accurate," Seven of Nine interrupted.

"He claimed there were twenty, I thought he'd lost his edge getting hurt. In this regiment odds like that are considered quite good," the General breezed.

"These Borg continue to be a threat to your vessel?" He continued.

"We avoid them when we can," the Captain admitted, "But yes, they are a threat to everybody not just us!"

"And these other small adventures, his services have been useful?"

"They have been invaluable," the Captain assured him.

"And he's kept out of things, unless specifically requested to get involved, or his involvement is imperative?"

"Yes!"

"At least he's been following standing orders," the General commented.

"He never strays from the things. Why are you asking these questions?" Demanded Captain Janeway, sitting up straight in her chair.

The General sighed, "I've known Samuels virtually all his adult life, we are friends, or as close as anybody is allowed to get to being friends with him. In all honesty, I don't need another Colonel, and he is too old to be given another battalion," he admitted.

"But our medical scans show he's barely 30!" the Captain exclaimed.

"I know what his body is, I've seen him and I've never seen him so disgustingly healthy," the General pointed out, "His birth certificate however shows him as being over fifty, the rules say he retires at fifty-five. He is finished as far as this army is concerned. Even if he wasn't, I have an order on my desk that would probably finish him anyhow and I'll have to tell him tomorrow, if he doesn't find out before. He'll be dead within a month," he continued sadly.

The Voyager party looked at him in stunned shock.

"You seem to be very certain?" fired the Captain.

"Colonel Samuels Sir!" reported Corporal Armitage from the doorway.

"Wheel him in man!" The General snapped, swapping to a neutral look as the Colonel marched in.

"Samuels, you're getting old man! It only took four to get you back!" He crowed in seeming delight.

"I lost track of time, Sir!" The Colonel responded flatly.

"Rubbish man, you were trying to hide!" He jested, the Colonel blushing proving his deductions were correct.

He turned to the Captain. "I have taken the liberty of booking a table and rooms at our local hotel, 'The Inn on the Lake', it will be less noticeable than appearing and disappearing all the time! It's run by a couple of our people, extremely good and private," he confided, "We can continue our discussion over dinner?"

"Your offer is tempting," the Captain stammered, wondering why the General had changed his attitude so quickly, "I'll have to contact the ship first!"

"Armitage, show Captain Janeway to the private office and make sure she's not disturbed whilst talking to her vessel," the General ordered.

"Sir! This way Ma'am," Corporal Armitage announced dutifully. Chakotay went with her.

"These people are amazing!" Captain Janeway confided to her executive officer, in the seclusion of the empty office, "The way that General Fletcher makes a suggestion and we carry it out like an order! And he's just accepted our presence and who we are. I wonder how many others are like him?"

"It is obvious where the Colonels' attitude comes from," Agreed Chakotay

"But he is aiming to get us to agree to something, We should be careful," he pointed out.

"I agree, but I think it may be something that I would not be too distressed about," she speculated.

"Away Team to Voyager, report!" She announced on her communicator.

"Tuvok here, Captain!" Came the instant reply.

"It is quiet and we are keeping the ship masked as well as possible, but there are too many satellites to allow us to remain hidden for long. Lieutenant Torres has carried out extensive tests on the parts we required, we still cannot replicate them directly," he continued.

"Beam the parts down, the Colonel's commander is proving very cooperative," the Captain responded, "We've been given an invitation to dinner and to stay overnight, it will allow you to find a better hiding place."

"Are you certain that remaining is safe, Captain? It could be dangerous," Tuvok cautioned.

"Nobody is giving us a second glance. General Fletcher is of the opinion that we are less likely to be noticed if we remain," the Captain opined. "I'll call tomorrow."

"Affirmative, Captain," the link was broken.

They returned to the General's office, to find Seven of Nine standing protectively beside the embarrassed Colonel. The General had obviously been asking questions.

"I agree to your invitation General," the Captain announced with a smile.

"Excellent!" he enthused.

He turned to the Colonel, "Samuels, take my car, my wallet and the delectable Miss Nine, to 'Brains' in town. The band is playing there, so you can have dinner, look into each others eyes lovingly and be entertained," he commanded cheerfully of the now thoroughly discomforted Colonel.

"Sir!" The Colonel replied as distinctly as he was able. He saluted, then offered his arm to Seven of Nine as they left the office.

"Most remarkable young woman that," the General commented to them wistfully, "She's got her talons into him and no mistake. Tell me Captain, has your doctor examined her recently?"

"What for?" The Captain asked guardedly.

"Wings, halo's, the ability to walk without touching the floor, the usual accoutrements for an angel." he replied with a grim smile.

"If he had been anybody else, I could see the obvious reasons for his attraction, she is remarkably beautiful! But with him, I would have expected him to run a mile in sheer terror," he commented, "You know about his wife?"

"Yes we do, and he tried to run a lot further than that." The Captain replied just as guardedly as before.

The General nodded, he seemed unsurprised. "She chased him for nearly ten years, before she got him to accept her! It took twenty men to actually get him to the church."

"He had cold feet?" The Captain suggested amused.

"The ground froze wherever he touched it," the General admitted, smiling ruefully in memory.

"Then those murdering bastards targeted her, because they couldn't get him. We nearly lost him and he's never looked at a woman since."

"What's your Miss Nine got over him?" He asked sharply.

"She loves him," the Captain replied simply.

"Not enough! There have been more than a few who have loved him, including my wife."

"She has saved his life on several occasions," Chakotay pointed out.

"That would hurt him more than the wounds," replied the General knowingly.

"She wants his help and protection?" Suggested the Captain hopefully.

"That would help," The General agreed.

"He thinks she is lonelier than he is?" Suggested Chakotay with a sudden burst of inspiration.

"Perfect!" Cried the General with feeling, "The stupid bugger always thinks people are worse off than he his!"

"Now dinner!" He announced and turned to the Major, "We'll have to use your car my dear, Samuels has run off with mine!"

"General Fletcher is trying to hide something from me?" The Colonel commented to his nervous passenger, glancing at her.

Like the rest of the Captains' away team she was dressed in a close facsimile of an United States Naval uniform for the away mission. He was glad of that, her normal skin tight clothing would have been too provocative for the function they had been sent to. That only left the details of her implants to explain away. If they were noticed.

"Care to tell me what he is hiding?" He asked.

"He will inform you tomorrow," she announced defensively, "You should slow down and watch the road and other vehicles, a collision is imminent."

The Colonel laughed, "For somebody who spends her life charging around the cosmos at speeds that defy the imagination, you make an awful passenger at low speeds!" He grinned.

"Star Ships do not pass within a metre of each other," she pointed out uncomfortably.

"But people do!" The Colonel noted sadly.

"Tell me about 'Brains'?" She asked, sensing the cloud that had passed over her companion. Another human facility she had seemingly picked up from the man beside her she suddenly realised, the ability to pick up the moods of others and adapt her attitude to accommodate them.

"Mark Brain was one of ours, when he finished his tour with us, he like several others in the area set up in business for themselves. In his case he opened a sort of bar cum bistro cum night club. He runs a whole raft of functions there. As the regimental band is there, I assume it is one of his charity nights," the Colonel explained.

"We'll be there in about twenty minutes. I hope your batteries are fully charged. It could be a wild night!" He added.

The Captain sat back from a meal she confidently predicted would be the best she had ever tasted.

"That was superb," she complimented the General and his wife, who it had proved was the Major Fletcher that had met her in the hanger.

"Saunders, always had a way with food. Poisoned a whole liner once. So Samuels made him the regimental chef," General commented cheerfully, "We always believe in finding a mans best features."

The General caught her eye as she blanched and smiled, "May I get you a drink Captain?"

The Captain smiled, "Please, call me Kathryn. But I don't know what drinks are available in this period," she confessed.

"In that case, please call me Horace," he announced, then eyed her up carefully, "I think a white cider would be easiest," he diagnosed, "Commander?"

"I will match Kathryn," Chakotay answered calmly.

He left them to obtain the specified drinks.

"You think Horace was exaggerating with regards to the efforts Anneka went through to catch Alan? And his surprise that Seven of Nine should be able to get as close as she has?" Major Anne Fletcher asked quietly.

The Captain nodded, "It seems a little extreme," she pointed out uncertainly.

"You don't know half of it. She learnt to speak over thirty languages, then made sure wherever he was sent, there was always a certain blonde Swedish interpreter attached to whoever we were supposed to work with and waiting for us when we arrived. She was blissfully happy when they married, so was Alan when he got used to the idea. Take it from someone who tried to catch him, Seven of Nine has done something that ranks as a miracle," she explained quietly.

Horace Fletcher returned with their drinks on a tray and handed them out.

"You claimed that Colonel Samuels will be dead in a month, Why?" Asked Chakotay quietly.

Horace Fletcher nodded, "He will be."

"There are only two things on this planet that he cares for," he started, "His regiment and its men. The orders that I have will transfer it to a new Anglo-American rapid reaction force. It will effectively disband the 60th. It was the best I could achieve when they wanted to scrap it all together, but it wouldn't be enough, he's not overly fond of American troops."

"I can see it would hurt him, but kill him is a little extreme?" Chakotay probed.

"Perhaps I ought to tell you a little about Alan Samuels?" Horace Fletcher suggested, "It's touching but hardly pleasant," he warned.

"Please!" The Captain urged, sensing revelations ahead.

"First of all remember he is a pirate of the most romantic swashbuckling kind imaginable, absolute honour, honesty, courtesy, generosity and loyalty. He is also poorer than the fabled church mouse," he started.

"I first met him, rummaging through my parents dustbins, like an animal, after one of his inevitable escapes from the home. He was fifteen, almost unconscious from loss of blood because somebody had blown a hole in him the size of your fist. My father lugged him down to the hospital, not waiting for an ambulance. It turned out that he had been caught up in an armed bank raid that failed. One of the raiders fired both barrels from his shotgun at a police officer, Samuels dived in front of him and took most of the blast in his side. To everybody's surprise he got up and flattened the crook, he was a big lad even then. Before the police could get themselves sorted, he disappeared. Obviously the police set up a massive man hunt, looking for his body. But he turned up in my parents backyard two days later, more than a hundred miles from the scene. When he woke up in hospital, he escaped again, before the social workers could arrive to take him back to the Home."

"I don't know what they did to him in that Home, but the people who ran it are now serving multiple life sentences in prison for child abuse. If I try hard enough I can imagine and he must have been terrified."

"Anyhow he turned up again a couple of days later, another 100 miles away. This time rescuing a young nurse from a gang rape, stopping a knife in his stomach in the process. The nurse had to hold on to him with all her strength to stop him escaping, then she spent the next three weeks spending all day and night holding his hand and nursing him back to health. The first woman I know of to fall in love with him! The papers got hold of the story and started to quote stupid phrases like 'Super Hero', until Alan flattened a reporter for the comment and my father threatened to sue them."

"My father was also a General, but in the Green Jackets, another rifle regiment, but different to the 60th. He was upset that anybody should be that ready to die, so he provided a twenty-four-hour guard to stop him escaping again, they were needed too, Alan tried three times."

"He managed to form a friendship of sorts with Alan, no mean feat. He found that under the dirt and tough exterior there was an amazing human being, with a sense of right and wrong that he held on to with everything he had, all apparently gained from a bible that he stole from a visiting priest and a few books of fictional heroes. My father was impressed and got together with the Chief Constable and they contrived to put Alan in the Army and well away from Social Workers and foundling homes."

"His life has followed a similar pattern throughout his life, nearly forty years now. When he was promoted, he had people to command, so he protected them as he protected the police officer and nurse, with everything he had, terrified he would fail them. I've seen him march into hails of bullets to pick up a wounded man, dive into a burning building to rescue a child, you name a horror to face, I've seen him do it and come out more dead than alive! It's no wonder the Sergeant Major thinks he's indestructible!"

"Yet he is still scared that people may get too close to him, he thinks he will fail sooner or later, and they will suffer for it! Losing his wife like he did proved it to him. It nearly pushed him over the edge."

"My father left him quite a substantial amount of money in his will. He used it to buy the home he was in and set it up as a charity home and school for orphans. He gave it to a council made up of as many churches as would talk to him, there's even a couple of Royal's on the board and they all take a personal interest in how it's run. It is superbly equipped and the staff in charge are superbly dedicated, they have a brilliant record and reputation. When the kids leave, they all undertake to put a day's pay per month into it when they find work and they do find honest work. Most of the regiment also donate. The Colonel himself puts everything he earns into it."

"The only things he actually owns, is the sword he broke and that was a gift, the bible he stole, a flute that I suspect he also stole, and his wedding ring. There has been nothing else in his life until now," he finished quietly.

"Does that answer your question Commander?" He asked finally.

The two Star Fleet officers looked at him and each other for several minutes, and mouths open in amazement.

The Captain finally managed, "But it doesn't explain why the Colonel is the way he is, does it?"

"It's escapism," put in Anne Fletcher quietly, "He knows what Hell is, he's lived there all his life. So he's prepared to believe the books he's read of a Heaven and how to get there!"

"But he is so friendly and kind to others.." Protested the Captain, then stopped in realisation. "The only thing he cares about is other people," she marvelled, "And Seven?"

"He loves her. He will probably see her love for him as a mistake on his part. But his dedication to her happiness and safety will be total," The General agreed.

"You want us to take him with us when we leave, don't you?" Captain Janeway asked cautiously, after a few minutes silence.

The General nodded, "He doesn't have a place here anymore, it's arguable that he ever had. But he has the chance of actually being happy, I'd like to see him take it, if the price is right?"

"The price being the parts?" asked Chakotay carefully.

"No, they are yours when we find them. That was Alan's request and it gets you away from here, personally I don't think Earth is ready to meet people from out of space. This is a personal favour, but I would prefer it if he went as what he is, a proud soldier and ally, not a broken refugee, else he may as well die here!"

The Captain swallowed, "I will have to discuss it with my senior officers," she confided.

"I asked Miss Nine for your probable response," the General commented, "She thinks you want to offer to take him and will agree. If not she wishes to claim asylum. That would be remarkably difficult to clear up! And I will have to tell him the fate of his regiment tomorrow morning."

She cursed Seven of Nine's honesty and her determination to stay with the man that protected and cared for her.

"He can't be a soldier when we return to the Federation," she pointed out desperately.

"But that could be years yet!" Protested the General, "A lot can happen in a year, he could die, you could all die, Miss Nine may continue her miracles and get him to accept there is more to life than duty. A year ago, if I'd been there to see it, I'd have put the odds of Samuels falling in love with a woman as beautiful as Miss Nine, loneliness or not, as strictly zero. This way he has a chance to finally become happy and I owe him that!"

He lent forward, "Please Kathryn!" He pleaded desperately.

She looked at Chakotay for help. He nodded to her, smiling grimly.

She looked back at him. "Very well we'll take him, but with two conditions."

"They are?"

"You get him to use my Christian name when we're off duty and stop him apologising for rescuing my ship and crew from certain destruction," she declared with a waspish smile.

"He has a habit of being over formal," he admitted, sitting back again. "He hasn't used my Christian name in all the time I've known him, then I've never seen him out of uniform either, but I will try," Horace promised, smiling at the strange requests.

"I will send a driver for you tomorrow at 09:00. Order what you will from the bar, it's against the bill," the General informed them, getting up and bowing.

The Fletchers left them nursing their drinks.

"Do you believe the story he told us about the Colonel?" Chakotay asked.

"That he's a one man army of retribution, totally dedicated to the protection and comfort of the weak, indestructible in confrontation, incapable of accepting recognition and terrified of being loved," summed up the Captain, "It would match what we have seen."

"Seven is right. He doesn't belong here either!" noted Chakotay.

Taking his Captains hand, he squeezed it gently, comforting her. Automatically she placed her head against his shoulder.

"They will make a wonderful couple, won't they?" She asked nervously, seeking Chakotay's approval and assurance.

"They compliment each other. They are a good team. You should know, you put them together!" Chakotay assured her gently.

"Everybody has been giving me advice, it is all the same advice, and they are all telling me I'm wrong!" The Colonel commented to Seven of Nine, as they sat at their table, listening and watching the band.

"Do you wish to put your tuppence in as well?" He asked her pointedly.

"There is nothing to be gained," she sighed, deliberately catching his eye's, "You do not take advice you believe is wrong."

"The problem is the advice I've been given is right. I don't belong here anymore than I belong on Voyager in the 26th Century! Some bastard had a sick joke at my expense, sending me spinning away into the future and is still laughing at the caveman as he tries to work out why he doesn't belong where he came from anymore!" he said in exasperation.

"You know, the General is only two years older than I am, he'll retire next year! The Sergeant Major is only a year younger than me. Put us together and they look their age and I'm their grandson! But it won't stop them retiring me for being too old!"

Seven of Nine said nothing, she had learnt that silence was best in these situations, but moved her hand to cover his, holding it firmly.

"Not that I ever expected to reach any sort of age. I've given Death plenty of opportunities, but he doesn't want me either!" He complained bitterly.

"The trouble is that whatever I decide to do it will break something," he sighed reflectively.

"Miss Nine. Why do you want to be so loyal to a broken old crock like me?" He asked her suddenly.

Stunned she withdrew her hand.

"That is a question you have asked, and I was unable to answer!" She protested.

"Shall I tell you how I fell so foolishly and heavily in love with you?" He asked quietly.

She nodded uncertainly. Unsure she was going to like what she heard.

"It's largely the Captain's fault," he started, "When I joined the ship, she told me I was the first person you'd ever shown an independent interest in and offered me a place on the ship, if I would take care of you. I accepted simply because I have never let anybody suffer if there was a chance of helping them, especially a young woman. I thought you were very lonely and needed company, any company, even mine! You are a beautiful woman and everything about you, to my mind at least, are perfectly proportioned, from your physical beauty to your off hand and remote nature, you should never be alone!"

"When you started to talk to me about your life, I found it distressing, there were too many similarities to my life and I would not wish them on my worst enemy. So I became protective of you, but there was something else there, a desire to make you happy. I tried to convince myself it was the protective nature of an ambivalent Uncle and hide it."

"I tried so hard to hide it and dismiss it," He sighed, "But the desires got worse. After that first dinner dance on the ship and I found out about how little you had on the ship, I was overcome, everything hit me at once, your loneliness, the emptiness, my hormones, sadness, I couldn't resist them all. I really didn't expect you to accept my love though and certainly didn't expect you to continue to accept it or return it. The first time you climbed into my bed. I almost died of fright. That is why I have resisted your advances to make love all the way through, I didn't expect it to last, for me it would be the ultimate despicable act," he finished, the last phrases dying away in despair.

"Now are you sure you still want this desperate old fool? Enough to give up everything to be a pauper on a world you know nothing about?" He asked desperately, tears starting to show in his eyes.

She reached forward again and caught both of his hands, clasping them together and pulling them towards her.

"Yes!" she hissed firmly.

Quickly she catalogued her reasons, "The crew were afraid of me, of what I was, because I was unable to understand their feelings. You were not. When you held me I felt different, nobody on the ship had touched me before. You did not condemn me for being Borg, but helped me overcome the feelings of shame I felt and replaced them with new more acceptable ones, it allowed me to discover and accept the feelings of others. You have never claimed I should feel or do something just because it is human nature. You gave me your time and attention and allowed me to find my own true feelings. You made me feel important. You care for me, there can be nothing else, I wish to belong to you, I will remain with you!" She kissed his hands.

The Colonel suddenly laughed, "What a sad pair we make! Lovers in desperation, each lonelier than the other!"

The band suddenly struck up with a slow waltz.

"I know the words to this one," the Colonel announced, recognising the tune, "They're very apt!"

"Miss Nine, may I have the pleasure of this dance with you?" He asked, suddenly cheerful again.

"That will be acceptable," she agreed taking his hand and standing up.

"You're in danger of smiling again," he warned her quietly.

"What are the words?" She asked ignoring his warning as they coupled on the dance floor, amidst half dozen others.

"You want them sung amongst all these people?" He asked in surprise.

She nodded tentatively.

He sang in his customary smooth tenor:-

"If I lost you,

What would I tell my heart,

You help me build my castles,

Don't ever make them fall,

I'd lose my all,

If I lost YOU!"

If I lost You,

The spring could come and go,

The Rose could bloom,

And yet I'd never know,

My life would fall,

If I lost YOU!"

He sang as they waltzed gently around the floor. Around them people stopped to watch the couple, him tall and straight, singing his heart out, her just as straight but resting her head against his chest eyes closed, both oblivious to the onlookers, both obviously in love.

As the music finished, they kissed tenderly and the onlookers applauded the couple loudly, to their mutual embarrassment. The Colonel turned to the band and bowed deeply.

"Thank you, Major Williams, for your indulgence," he called.

"There's only one Colonel in the army that sings like that, and you're welcome Sir!" the Major replied cheerfully, "Would you like to sing some more? Or join us with your flute? Perhaps your lady can sing?" He asked hopefully.

"Perhaps we will oblige, but I need a drink first," the Colonel answered.

"How about it Miss Nine, should we run in embarrassment or show them what Borg efficiency can do?" He teased.

"Neither," she replied, "You will sing, I find it pleasant."

"Only if you're with me," he persisted quietly.

"I will comply," she agreed eventually.

"Did you two have a good time last night?" The Captain asked Seven of Nine after breakfast, her smile suggesting that she already knew the answer.

"It was acceptable," Seven agreed, unusually happily the Captain thought.

"What did you get up to?" She quizzed.

"We had dinner, talked, then danced and the Colonel sang. We were popular," she confided, remembering the applause that had followed her own singing.

"And after that?"

"We walked by the river, then went to bed."

"The same bed?"

"That was unnecessary, we comforted each other all evening. He needs time to think before he comes to the right decision," She announced.

"I found out why he loves me!" Seven volunteered.

"Oh!" The Captain exclaimed with a worried frown.

"It will not damage our relationship. Thank you Captain."

The Captain looked at her in surprise.

"The Colonel says you put us together," she explained calmly.

"If what I heard is to be believed, you are one of many who have loved him," the Captain said, anxious to get some caution in, "But the first that he has really loved for himself."

"He loved his wife!" Seven protested.

"But he was manoeuvred into it by the General and his regiment, it took them ten years. Everybody was happy about it, but I would never do that to you! If you decide to go the whole way, you do it for yourselves!" The Captain exclaimed righteously.

"There is a vehicle from the Colonel's regiment outside," Seven commented, "Our transport?" She asked quizzically.

"Yes. Go and get Chakotay, I'll get your Colonel."

She found him in the hotel lounge reading a newspaper.

"Seven seems remarkably happy," she commented, "Is there a reason for that?"

"She enjoys singing for people, she was very popular and had four offers of marriage?" The Colonel suggested mildly.

"Were you one of them?" The Captain asked quickly.

"After two years away, you would have thought that the news would be different," he commented, quickly changing the subject, "But it isn't, the same political parties keep dancing around the same irrelevant subjects, desperately avoiding a decision. The same crimes are being committed, the same wars are happening. It will be difficult to live it all again. It seems so pointless. The only thing I would miss if I didn't have too, is a decent pint of beer!"

"You've made a decision?" The Captain queried.

"I think so Ma'am."

"Care to tell me what it is?" She asked anxiously.

"Not until I've seen General Fletcher, Ma'am. It will depend upon his agreement." The reply was smooth and decisive.

General Fletcher met them in an ebullient mood. "The lads have had some successes on our quest," he announced to the party.

"The Fairies in the radio room have repaired your circuit board. We've found a supply of those tubes you need. I'll send somebody to acquire them tonight. And my professor friends think they know who your inventor is, but they aren't sure where he lives. I've given that problem to the Provost and MOD Plods to sort out. All in all a good start!" He claimed impressively.

"What would you like to do today?" He asked, "Perhaps, Major Fletcher can show you around our patch of the world?" He suggested urgently.

"We need to return to the ship," Captain Janeway started, then caught the implication behind the Generals urgency. "I would love to see your facilities, perhaps, I ought to bring our Security Officer to look?"

"As you wish Madam," the General replied formally.

"Major, take our friends to stores and kit them properly, then show them our playground," he commanded.

"Sir!" His wife responded automatically.

As they were led out the Sergeant Major stepped into the office, and handed the General a sheaf of papers, he glanced at it and put it aside.

"I have here an order regarding the Regiment, Colonel," the General began, picking up another piece of paper, that had lain face down on his desk.

"It effectively says that we are to disband and reform as a joint force with an American battalion."

"No!" Gasped the Colonel in shock.

"All Officers and Men will report to Joint NATO Chiefs of Staff," The General continued, heedless of the Colonel's state, "The role will be that of rapid reaction and insurgency strike force. Broadly what we do now, but with American overkill. We will lose our colours and patronage. The new regiment will be led by an American General, General Portelski. You know him I think? You hit him once as I recall?"

"That was when he was a Captain, Sir," the Colonel agreed, collapsing into a chair, "He marched his men into a trap so obvious that a blind man could see it, then wondered why they all died! How can anybody dissolve my Regiment, or give it to an idiot like him?"

"Believe it or not there are a lot of people that don't like you," said the General quietly, "Especially in Whitehall and other places you shouldn't upset. It so happens that you have a couple of influential friends as well, in the shape of the President of the United States. These orders have been amended. We were simply to be disbanded. It's the best I could do for everybody."

"Permission to speak, Sir?" The Colonel requested.

The General nodded, unsurprised.

"I cannot serve in the new regiment, Sir. I wish to surrender my Commission, Sir!" He stated clearly.

The General nodded again, just as unsurprised.

"There are problems with your request," He pointed out, "I assume you are thinking of asking Captain Janeway for passage. So you are assuming that she will take you. That she will hang around for the months it would take the paperwork to clear. You can't afford to buy yourself out. I'm not going to get you Sectioned for it. If you stayed, you couldn't support yourself, let alone support the young lady. No Colonel, your request is denied."

He watched the Colonel shrink in front of him, as his disappointment hit him. He'd expected that as well.

"I can't see you as a civilian," he said, trying to offer some comfort, "You'd get yourself killed at the first opportunity. So I have alternative orders for you, Colonel."

"Sir?" The Colonel replied without looking up from his misery.

"You will formally detach yourself from the Regiment and operate in conjunction with and under the control of United Federation Star Fleet forces. Your Rules of Engagement to include diplomatic attache to that organisation. To maintain friendly relations between that organisation and Her Majesties Government. Conduct such actions as are required to achieve the continued safety of those forces using such facilities as are available to you. These orders are not to be regarded as exclusive of any other actions that may be required, including acceptance of status not exceeding current rank. Your orders." He handed the Colonel the paper.

The Colonel took it, examining it carefully, before folding it and putting it in his pocket.

"Thank you Sir!" He announced gratefully, "But the signature is wrong!"

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, I'll be dead before anybody works them out!" General Fletcher snapped, "I'll leave you to work out what to do about Miss Nine and you. I just hope you do it soon and she doesn't have as many problems as Anneka did, getting you to accept it. And send your children back to visit me, when they are old enough! I'd like to see what sort of hash you make of bringing up your own children instead of everybody else's," he added with a broad smile.

Captain Janeway shrugged on the flak jacket that she had been given, like the rest of the clothing issued to her, it seemed bulky and cumbersome compared to the light weight Star Fleet uniform. Designed to protect its wearer in harsh conditions, she wondered how hard the conditions could be in this obviously peaceful English countryside. She voiced her concerns to the implacable Major.

"They're not too bad at the moment. We're only going to walk around, but it might get a little muddy. We don't want you to go home too dirty, hence the battle dress," she commented.

"If you would all care to follow me, we'll start at the parade ground." She announced.

They followed the Major at a quick jog.

"I don't know how much you know about the British Army?" She asked, "But line regiments are traditionally drawn from a locality, with people volunteering for more specialist regiments after proving themselves. Every British Regiment has its own customs that make it unique. It's changed a little as the army has contracted, but is still relevant. The first thing they are taught is how to drill in the regimental style and to accept the colours as their own. The honour of the Regiment is everything. It requires loyalty to it and their comrades. When they learn to march in step with each other, they can learn why it is so important."

They stood and gazed in awe as a Guards company slammed past them at a crisp rate.

"It is something the Guards do better than anybody else, looking pretty," Major Fletcher confessed ambivalently.

"Of course it's not just strutting around," She pointed to a party of troops toiling in at a near run, bearing full packs. "We make them fit as well with exercises, with and without packs."

They followed her again as she led them through an obstacle course, into a lightly wooded area. She stopped suddenly in a glade, glancing around quickly, she motioned them to be still and quiet. Suddenly there was a blood curdling scream from in front of them. Thirty men appeared, as if by magic, from a muddy stream not more than 20 Metres in front and screaming in rage. They charged towards them, bearing their weapons low and purposefully, glinting at the front of their short weapons were bayonets. Nervously the Star Fleet party stepped back in horror from the spectacle.

The group charged past them and they turned to watch as they reached rows of stuffed sacks. The screams seemed to reach a new intensity as the soldiers charged into them, thrusting the bayonets in and out of the sacks. A new voice reached them, 'Smith put some bloody effort into it, it's the enemy, rip his bloody guts out! Anderson! Just 'cause you've snapped your bloody bayonet doesn't mean you can stop. There is still a jagged bit. Use it!' It screamed.

"Sorry Ma'am, I didn't know we had observers today!" They turned to find another tall soldier facing the Major, standing at attention.

"Entirely my fault, Sergeant, we'll get out of your way. Carry on!" She commanded.

"Ma'am!" He slammed a salute and disappeared into the trees.

The Major turned to them again, "I'm most dreadfully sorry, I had forgotten there was a full bayonet drill in the glade today," she apologised in concern for her guests, "If you've never witnessed a bayonet charge before it is terrifying. Very few armies use them anymore, so if you get it right you will never actually kill anybody because they've all run away."

"It was terrifying!" Chakotay freely admitted, "We've seen the Colonel perform in a similar fashion and we know it is very effective."

She smiled at them, "Colonel Samuels is a master with a blade and he learnt how to do it here and like this."

"We had better return to camp, the exercise will become somewhat more scary from here," she claimed, leading them back to the road to be met by the Colonel. Both army officers slammed to attention and saluted as they met.

The Colonel turned towards the Captain, presenting her with a sheaf of paper. "My orders, Ma'am," he announced stiffly, "Should you wish to accept and sign them, then I have been placed at your disposal."

Captain Janeway took them from him and read them carefully. Finally she looked up. "Is it what you really want?" She asked mildly.

"I'm a soldier, Ma'am," he replied stiffly, "I go where I am ordered, there is no choice."

"But if I accept you under this, you will effectively lose everything you have here, rank, friends everything, you will undoubtedly be placed in danger again and there will be no comebacks," she pointed out, "I'll not accept them unless you want to come with us?"

"I seem destined to lose what I had anyhow, Ma'am. I carry what I own so I've nothing to lose here, perhaps there will be something for me somewhere, sometime else. As for danger, I've faced it too often to be really worried by it or its associates."

She nodded slowly, "Okay, I accept your orders as defined," she agreed formally, "Do you have a pen?"

He presented her with one from his pocket, then his shako for use as a writing desk.

"I never realised hats were so useful," she remarked as she signed her name at the foot of the papers.

"I don't know what Star Fleet will say about all this though," she commented as she handed the paperwork to Major Fletcher, who split the multi part form and handed copies back to the Captain and Colonel.

"The problem may never occur, I could be dead in a week," he informed her cheerfully.

A Land Rover drew up beside them and Sergeant-Major O'Neil got out, and addressed the Colonel, "General's compliments, Sir. We've found your inventor!" he claimed cheerfully saluting the party.

"Excellent news, Sergeant Major," the Colonel thanked him, "Where is he?"

"In the New Forest Sir! General's given orders to take your guests to the Officers Mess for lunch, then take you there, Sir!"

"I assume he sent you with the transport as well?" Captain Janeway asked quietly, praying she would not be force marched to the new venue.

The Sergeant Major looked at the vehicle in disgust, "Yes Ma'am. He thought you may have had enough exercise for one day, Ma'am."

"Carry on, Sergeant Major," the Colonel responded, catching the Captains relieved look as they piled into the vehicle.

"How many are going?" Asked Captain Janeway in shock at the seeming cavalcade that appeared at the Mess door after lunch.

"Eight men, Ma'am, four Land Rovers and a five tonner," answered the Sergeant Major, saluting smartly again, "I was under the impression that there may be equipment to be brought back, Ma'am."

She nodded perplexed, "It seems like a lot of fuss, we could have just beamed everything aboard the ship," she commented to the Colonel.

"I think the General is worried that the ship will be spotted, Ma'am. He could be right, I know you are jamming radar and radio signals, but you can't do much against the Mark 1 eyeball and there are a lot of those looking upwards."

The Sergeant Major conducted the Star Fleet away party to different vehicles and managed to arrange to be the Colonel's driver.

"Permission to speak, Sir?" He asked as they set off.

"Carry on, Sergeant Major," the Colonel agreed.

"Are you leaving the Regiment, Sir?"

"Nobody really leaves the Regiment, remember?" He replied carefully.

"But you are going to go with these Star Fleet people?"

"I have orders and it's probably for the best, don't you think?" He answered mildly.

"Who's going to keep you alive, Sir, without me and the lads to protect you?"

The Colonel looked at him in surprise. "They seem to have done a good job so far," he commented, "Not up to your standards perhaps, but there is less call for fisticuffs."

"If you're thinking of asking Captain Janeway for passage, don't. She will refuse, I'm not sure why she's accepted me," he continued, "You're a good man Pat, and I thank you for everything you've done to make the Regiment the best there is. But you have a good wife and lovely kids to look after and in two years time you will be able to retire to that pub you always wanted. Your life is about to start again, just like mine is."

"Sir!" The Sergeant Major responded quietly.

He was silent for a while, then asked, "Are you intending to marry Miss Nine, Sir?"

Colonel Samuels looked at him sharply, "No! I'm hoping she will come to her senses, why?"

The old Sergeant-Major nodded wisely. "God bless you Sir! You understand men so well, but women! She won't, she's more determined than Anneka and you're too intent on looking after her for her to change her mind, Sir!"

The Colonel thought for a few minutes, "Tell me Sergeant-Major, if your daughter, Mary, brought a soldier home and told you she wanted to marry him, would you let her?"

It was the Sergeant-Major's turn to think, finally he replied slowly, "I would give her and him a damned good talking too, Sir, make sure they haven't made a mistake, like you used to. But if she insisted then I would give them my blessing."

"Miss Nine hasn't got anybody to give her that talking too," the Colonel pointed out wryly, "And she can't be split off from people for long to cool off either."

The convoy drew to a halt in a roadside layby. "The house is about half a mile down the road, Sir," Sergeant-Major O'Neil informed the Colonel, "The gentleman you're after is Doctor Harrington!"

"Thank you, Sergeant Major. Take three men and work your way around the back of the house, make sure it's secure, the rest to stay here until called. I'll take the Captain to the front door and see if he'll cooperate," he instructed.

"I'm sorry Ma'am," he announced, turning to the Captain, "But it seems wiser to walk up to our target and see if he'll talk, rather than storm the keep."

She smiled at him, "We'll make you a diplomat yet," she suggested cheerfully.

"No, Ma'am. I fully intend to let you do the clever talking," he responded calmly, "I'm just going to make sure he lets us in and doesn't try to runaway."

She sighed, "Come on then, let's see what we can do."

She led the party along the road. The house they were looking for proved to be a two-story cottage, it and the garden had obviously seen better days. The garden was a mess of brambles, somebody had obviously tried at some point and had hacked a clear area alongside the footpath to the door, this had been taken over by ground laurel. The hedge around the garden was tall and unkempt. The cottage itself had a thatched roof, part of the thatch had failed and a hole could clearly be seen from the road. The white washed walls were covered in creeping ivy. A rickety corrugated garage stood apart from the house. The Colonel inspected it carefully, peering through the dirty window, he spotted a car inside.

"This ruin could actually be quite picturesque," he commented, as he forced the gate open for the Captain, "Still, I suppose it meets the requirements of a lunatic eccentric?"

They rapped on the door using the large iron ring knocker, it echoed hollowly, but there was no other sound. They tried again and waited.

"I'll take Seven around the back," volunteered Chakotay, "He may be there and not hear us!"

The Captain nodded an agreement, as the Colonel tried the latch. The door opened with a creak as Chakotay and Seven disappeared.

"Yes?"

They were met by a thin man wearing half moon spectacles. His age was difficult to determine, he could have been a very old forty or perhaps a young seventy, it was obvious from the gaunt figure he neither ate properly nor left the house. He took very little care of his personal presentation as well. The old and thread bare trousers and check shirt appearing to have been supplied by a jumble sale.

"Doctor Harrington?" The Colonel asked quietly, saluting.

"Who wants to know?" The voice was a nervous high-pitched whine.

"My name is Lieutenant-Colonel Alan Samuels, Sir. Attached to NASA. This is Captain Kathryn Janeway," he indicated the Captain.

"NASA believes that you are carrying out experiments that may be of great benefit to our own research, Sir. We would like to discuss them, if we may, Sir? There may be a mutual benefit," He continued smoothly, gently forcing the man back in the house.

The man seemed to regain his composure somewhat, "How do you know?" He asked sharply.

"Not my field to be honest, Sir, I'm the guide," the Colonel confessed truthfully, "I have been informed that you gave a talk some time ago, where you provided some theories that disputed current scientific thinking. That apparently is what NASA wants today, new ideas, they are even prepared to believe that Einstein was wrong, or so I'm told," he bluffed, "Captain Janeway, can give you a better explanation than I can, she's majored in Astronomical Sciences."

He had pushed them gently but firmly towards what appeared to be the scullery kitchen at the back of the house.

"I don't know about Einstein," the doctor announced, "It's Newton that was an imbecile, I can prove it!" He claimed in a sudden fit of passion.

"He claimed that energy can't be created. Well I can prove him wrong!"

"Really?" Asked the Captain, in surprise and taking the cue, "How?"

"Have you heard of perpetual motion?" He asked in excitement, "I've created a device that once started will continue to work without any external influence and produces more energy than it requires to work! It would mean the end of the worlds energy problems and there is no pollution at all, so they can forget about coal and nuclear power. My experimental machine is small enough to be used in a vehicle, so it's the end of the petrol engine."

"Would you like to tell me how it works?" the Captain asked him gently. If she could get him going properly then perhaps he would volunteer information, she decided.

"It would be of great benefit in our space explorations."

"No!" He denied.

"Not without the recognition it deserves. I want to rub the noses of all those uptight, closed-minded cretins at the Royal Society in it. I am going to be the greatest scientist of all time!" He crowed.

"What would do it better than having a Harrington Device aboard a space exploration ship?" Suggested the Captain, trying to match his excitement.

"You mean it?" He asked in his growing excitement, "I'll show you the machine, it's in my laboratory, come with me!"

"Why not explain how it works?" Asked the Captain quickly, catching sight of Chakotay in the window and afraid the Doctor would charge out and find them in the act of breaking into his laboratory. Out the corner of her eye she saw the Colonel start to move to put himself between the door and the doctor.

"It's far too complex to explain adequately," he claimed glibly, "Simply you start with a couple of megawatts of power, then the machine multiplies it in a statically charged sphere. The surplus is conducted away to keep the process going. As it starts to generate its own power, then it produces more power exponentially. You have to see it."

He dived for a small door, rapidly followed by the Colonel who trying to stop him. She took a desperate look after them, then dived after the two men. She found herself at the top of a short flight of stairs, leading into a basement. The wooden stairs themselves were dimly lit, but she could see much brighter lighting at the bottom. Quickly she started down the stairs, to find the two men looking at a machine. It seemed similar to the one they had on Voyager, but was without its covers. She could hear the Colonel talking calmly and the doctors excited replies.

"Are you sure it's safe, Sir?"

"Absolutely!"

"Shouldn't you make sure with an off switch?"

"Why? It generates its own power. You can't turn it off like that!"

"Ah, Captain, this stupid soldier want's to know why it can't be simply turned off when not required!" Doctor Harrington claimed.

The Colonel bristled, "I'm sorry Sir, but in my experience scientists toys tend to suffer from glitches that are often more than a little dangerous."

"Nonsense, I'll show you. My plants fully charged, I was going to run it up for the first time this afternoon."

"You haven't tried it yet then?" The Captain asked slowly, looking around at the mess.

"No, but you can be my first witnesses!" He announced, pulling a lever on the wall.

Nothing seemed to happen, but as they stood they could hear a low hum start to build. It grew louder as power started to feed into the machine.

"How much power are you feeding it?" The Captain asked quietly, nervously edging to the stairs.

"The capacitor plant has been charging for a few weeks," Doctor Harrington replied, "I suspect there is perhaps a couple of Giga Watts in them."

The hum became a scream and the machine seemed to pulse then glow. She turned for the door, her own sixth sense warning of an imminent catastrophe. She was physically caught by the Colonel who threw them both behind a screen.

"Get under there!" He screamed at her, pointing at an old wooden bench, "It's going wrong!"

She could not hear him, so he lifted her again and threw her bodily underneath, quickly following her, then pressed her down. She covered her ears with her hands, to try as the sound grew through the pain barrier. Then shut her eyes as a bright flash signalled an explosion. Parts of the ceiling started to rain upon them, then blessed silence as she passed out.

Chakotay and Seven of Nine had successfully and safely negotiated the briar patch that had been a garden, and found them selves in the rear garden. A new concrete outhouse was the first thing they saw, it seemed out of place considering the poor condition of the house. They approached it carefully. A metal door was set in a wall, they tried the handle and found it unlocked, so they entered into what appeared to be an Aladdin's cave of parts, but no secret laboratory.

Chakotay whistled under his breath, "See what you can find," he ordered Seven, "I'll call the Colonel's people, they can carry them out for us. If our mad professor is uncooperative then we may have to steal what we need."

He left her moving along the shelves and picked his way to the hedge.

"Sergeant-Major O'Neil?" He called quietly.

"Sir!" The bramble bush behind him spoke.

He turned sharply in surprise, to find the Sergeant Major standing to attention.

"How do you do that?" He protested, "You weren't there a second ago!"

"Years of practise, Sir!" the old Sergeant-Major grinned, "How can we assist you, Sir?"

"We've found our parts, can you help us get them out the shed."

"Sir!" He waved his hand and the rest of his men appeared as if by magic. Chakotay realised that he had walked within a metre of them without seeing them.

He walked back to the shed, taking the opportunity to try and peer into the house, through the window. Briefly he caught a glimpse of people inside, but could make out no details.

He turned into the shed again to find that the four man team were already pulling parts off the shelves that Seven of Nine was indicating. When they completed the soldiers quickly divided the load between themselves and left.

"It would be wise to come with us, Sir!" Sergeant-Major O'Neil suggested, "That way you won't be discovered in the wrong place."

Chakotay nodded and beckoned to Seven of Nine to come with them, then followed the Sergeant Major to the back hedge. The Soldiers forced a path through, then held it open for the Commander to follow. Spotting Seven of Nine's nervousness at thrusting herself through a bramble bush, Sergeant Major O'Neil dropped his load, stepped back, grabbed her by the waist and lifted her head high to carry her through.

"I'm sorry Ma'am. But I can't leave you here alone, it would upset the Colonel, Ma'am," he claimed as he set the surprised ex-Borg gently down again.

"Your apology and explanation are unnecessary, thank you!" She stammered, this man was even stronger than the Colonel she realised.

"Why do you follow the Colonel so closely?" She asked in curiosity as they set off again towards the truck.

"Because he is a good man. He looks after us. All he expects of us is to meet his demands, but proves he expects more from himself," the Sergeant-Major explained, "Besides if we weren't there he'd get himself hurt, somebody has got to look after him! Please look after him properly when you go, Ma'am?" He pleaded

She stared at him in surprise, "He is dismissive of the value of his life, but I shall try to carry out your request," she promised finally.

Fretfully they waited by their transport, waiting for the call from the Colonel. The explosion took them by surprise.

"What's the daft bugger done now?" Exclaimed Sergeant-Major O'Neil in surprise. He ran down the road towards the cottage, signalling for his men to follow.

He reached the site where the cottage had stood at a run, there he stopped in shock, everything had collapsed.

"Cooper!" He screamed, "Find a phone box. Get onto the Fuzz, tell them there has been an explosion, we may need fire and ambulances. The rest of you start searching."

They spent thirty minutes searching, then a call came, "I've found them Sergeant Major! They're in this hole, the Colonel's alive and moving."

The Sergeant Major peered into the hole. At its shallowest point it appeared to be about ten feet deep and he could see the Colonel move slowly, trying to get up and move some timber off the body he was covering, he jumped in to help.

"When I lift, grab them and pull them out," he ordered.

Gently he moved the Colonel out the way and knelt by Captain Janeway and checked her for life. "Tell the Commander, his Captain is hurt but still alive, the Colonel protected her from the cave in." He called out to the waiting men. Then he started the gentle task of pulling the remains of the debris from her prostrate body.

Captain Janeway was shaken back to reality by gentle hands, some little while later. Still deafened by the noise and partially blinded by the flash, she could not make out what was being said or done. Dumbly she was lead to where the stairs had been. Her arms were moved so that they were pointing upwards, then she felt herself being lifted from just above the knees. Desperately she tried to keep her balance as she rose. Suddenly realising what was being attempted, she frantically waved her arms about trying to find something to hold, sure whoever it was that was lifting her knew that there was something to grasp. Something brushed her hand, she sought it again and finally grasped a hand. She felt the grip below a shift, then she was lifted again. Scrabbling frantically she was half lifted, and half pulled out of the remains of Doctor Harrington's laboratory, and was gently led away by somebody.

After an hour both her sight and hearing started to return, leaving her head ringing painfully. She looked around, shading her eyes from the feeble sunlight. A large part of the house had seemingly disappeared, the remains freed from the support of the rear wall had simply collapsed in on its self. She could see Chakotay and several of the Colonel's men sifting the wreckage.

"You are recovered, Captain?" Seven's voice sounded as though it was covered in a pillow.

She turned to see the tall blond bending anxiously over her. "What happened? Where's the Colonel?" She asked, her voice sounding garbled from the ringing she could still hear.

"It appears that the Professor overloaded his machine, he has gone," Seven replied calmly, "The Colonel is attempting to search the remains of the laboratory. He is damaged but functioning. Sergeant-Major O'Neil has given first aid and is assisting his search. His men are about to force him out for treatment. I have summoned the ship for assistance."

"Did you and Chakotay find anything to rebuild the machine?"

"We found some parts, they will be sufficient," Seven of Nine answered monosyllabically, watching the soldiers pulling the Colonel out.

Once out he picked himself up with the help of the men around him and staggered over to them. He managed to come to attention, then saluted them, though it was nowhere near as crisp as he usually managed. The Captain looked at him in concern, there appeared to be trickle of blood coming from an ear, his nose was bleeding, and a little blood was showing from the corner of his eye. He tried to speak, but it was unintelligible. Instead he handed her a loose leaf folder, then collapsed to the floor.

Chakotay ran over to them. "Sergeant-Major O'Neil has suggested that we get to the ship, then he can deal with the authorities. He's going to claim they witnessed an explosion, there is no sign of the Doctors' equipment, so they may get away with claiming a gas explosion," he advised quickly, "They'll look after the parts."

He activated his communicator. "Chakotay to Voyager!"

"Tuvok here, Commander," Came Tuvok's bland voice.

"Four to beam to the sickbay, immediate!"

They beamed away.

As the Doctor fussed over her and the Colonel, the Captain glanced at the file the Colonel had given her. It contained paperwork covered in long hand script, calculations for formula and some form of diary. She handed it to Chakotay who was standing next to her. "I think these are Professor Harrington's notes, they may be of use to B'Elanna in getting the machine working safely," she suggested.

"How's the Colonel?" She asked sharply, now her hearing was back to normal.

"He'll recover in a few minutes." The Doctor promised, "He burst a few blood vessels and an ear drum, nothing for him."

"I wish he would seek medical attention when he gets hurt," he complained, "And not go on gaily, until it's almost too late. It will kill him one day."

"That is the nature of the Colonel," the Captain pointed out, "According to his commander he's been like that since he was a child. I don't think even Seven can change that in him."

"He is determined," admitted Seven of Nine quietly, standing by the Colonel, "He takes each event as a challenge and refuses to accept failure. It would be inappropriate to attempt to change it."

Two days later the Captain and her party beamed themselves back to the hanger that had housed their original beam down point. This time they were supplemented by Lieutenant Torres, who wished to inspect their spares. Again they were met by C Company, who seemed to have been expecting them.

An officer approached them. The Colonel recognising him, stepped to the front and saluted, "Captain Wilshaw, We've come to collect our parts."

"General's compliments, Sir. You and your party are to report to his office before you leave," Captain Wilshaw announced.

"We have orders to stop you if you try to leave, Sir," he added quietly, he pointed at his men who were standing at the ready.

The Colonel nodded slowly, "You could probably get a couple of us too," he agreed amicably, "But I should say good bye to the old man, so lead on Captain."

C Company fell in around the Star Fleet party and they were quick marched to General Fletchers office. They were met in the outer office by the General himself.

"I was beginning to think you had done a bunk," he announced cheerfully, "Trying to get home the long way perhaps?"

"No Sir!" The Colonel disputed, "I received injuries in the explosion. I have only just escaped from the Quack, Sir."

"Never mind, you're Captain Janeway's problem now, she's signed for you."

"You'll be glad to know that you are still a secret to the world at large Captain. The police have put the explosion at Harrington's down to a simple gas explosion, they aren't looking for the part that disappeared, or him. Apparently the damned fool was always blowing himself up, so they've assumed he did the job properly this time. As for his lab' and parts store, we've quietly stripped them of anything recognisable. I don't suppose I can interest you in Twentieth Century junk?" General Fletcher asked hopefully.

"I doubt it," the Captain laughed, "I'd like to express our thanks for all your help and not telling your superiors about us."

"Not a problem," the General announced, "You've looked after one of my people and that means a lot to the Regiment and myself. Now who is this lovely young woman?" He stepped in front of B'Elanna Torres.

"Lieutenant B'Elanna Torres, Ships Engineer, Sir!" She announced nervously, drawing herself to a state of alert.

General Fletcher ignored it and took her hand and kissed it, "Charmed!" He claimed, to her obvious delight.

"Before I let you go, there is one thing I need your help with Captain," He announced casually. "Nothing serious, but you presence would be helpful."

"Oh?" The Captain queried.

"It seems that Colonel Samuels missed an appointment with the village padre. He's quite upset about it and is blaming me for it. I have a bus arriving in a couple of minutes. It will take us down to see him."

"Does it need all of us?" The Captain asked in confusion.

"A few witnesses won't hurt," he assured her. "I see the bus has arrived, this way please!"

"What's going on?" The Captain asked General Fletcher quietly, as she sat herself beside him and indicating the twenty soldiers already on the bus.

"It seems that Samuels and the Padre had a chat about his feelings for Miss Nine." The General confided. "Alan still has loyalties for his ex-wife, the Padre thinks they are interfering with his feelings for Miss Nine, on one side he wants to be hers totally, but on the other his loyalty for his ex' prevents him. He's probably right. He's usually accurate in things like that. The Padre wants to meet her and perhaps give her a chance to nail him properly, if she decides that is what she wants."

"Why are we needed?" She asked curiously.

"I think the Padre has a blessing in mind. Plus there is the problem of getting Samuels through the door!"

They were met at the door of the small church by the vicar. "Thank you, General," He claimed as they decanted. "I'd like a few minutes with Miss Seven of Nine in the vestry, alone, if you please! If the rest of you care to wait in the church?"

Gently he took Seven of Nine's arm and led her to the vestry.

"I am sorry for the inconvenience," He apologised, "But I wanted to have a little chat with you about Alan, then perhaps we can sort him out properly. I don't need to tell you how good a man he is, or what drives him, if you didn't know already, there would be little point in telling."

"I am uncertain as to your meaning?" She claimed uncertainly.

The parson sighed, "I was an Air Force Padre at the end of the last war," he began. "I've seen many people not unlike him, scared to get too involved in case they or the one they loved were to die tomorrow. Unlike most, he still holds on to the past, it means he is still trying to be loyal to his wife. It is affecting his reactions to you, I took his wedding ring off him the other day, but to finish the job, so to speak, I wish to know what your feelings are for him?"

She thought for several minutes, fearing a reply in case she said it wrong.

"Do you have desires to be held by him?" Suggested the Padre quietly, trying to help her.

"Yes!" She affirmed immediately.

"Be in his company, at all times?"

"Yes!"

"Miss him, if he goes anywhere without you?"

"Yes!"

"Tolerant of his bad habits?"

"His only bad habit, is his resistance. You are proposing to break that," She pointed out.

"Only you can break it," He claimed, "I am trying to make it possible for you to do so, if and when you wish."

"I understand you care for him when he is hurt? Even when it is dangerous to do so?" He continued his questioning.

"Yes!" Seven of Nine returned to her monosyllabic answers.

"And you do so willingly?"

"Yes!"

"Would it hurt if he decided he wanted somebody else, instead of you?"

"Yes!"

"Would you let him go?" He asked, quickly. "Think carefully about the answer, I want your answer, not his," he insisted.

"If that was what he wished to do, then it would be acceptable," She answered slowly and firmly.

The Padre straightened, "You've answered my original question," he announced, smiling quietly. "I can safely vouch that you are definitely in love and it is sustainable. What I can do for you, if you are willing, is this. I can take you into the Naive, stand both of you together, then ask you both to vow your love for each other in front of his God. It's not a wedding. That will be up to you both to decide upon and you could walk away from it, but it will mean as much to him."

"It is up to you, do you wish him to continue to resist?" He challenged her. "I do not think even you will break him from that habit."

"If I were to disavow the pledge it would hurt him?" It was her turn to ask the questions.

"Yes," he admitted solemnly, "But he would let you go, if he thought you meant it."

"It could kill him?"

"It would make him wish to die," he agreed. "But nothing else seems to be able to kill him."

She considered the question for a few more moments.

"I shall take your vow," she announced finally.

"You mean it?" He responded quickly.

"Yes!" Her reply was instantaneous.

"In that case, my child, we'll move to the Naive." He took her lightly by the hand and led her out.

"If you ladies and gentlemen would care to join us before the altar," he called.

In wonderment they all moved to the front of the church.

"Colonel, stand beside Miss Nine. General Fletcher, stand beside the Colonel and you, Ma'am. I'm sorry I don't know your name?" He asked of Captain Janeway.

"Kathryn Janeway," She volunteered in surprise.

"Ms Janeway, if you would support Miss Seven of Nine? Then we can begin."

"I am not proposing a service of marriage," He announced clearly, "What we are about to witness is an act of blessing, there is no compunction by law upon this act, it will simply clear the dead wood. If anybody, except Colonel Samuels," He glared at him fiercely, "Have any objections, now would be a good time to make them known?"

There was a general shaking of heads from the gathering.

"Good, we shall begin. Colonel, respond as you wish." He commanded.

"Do you Alan Samuels wish to offer your undying love for this woman, Seven of Nine, vowing your total honour and commitment to her? To cherish and love her? And do so willingly, in this house of worship?"

"Yes, Sir!" He announced, surprising himself by his own conviction.

The Padre turned to Seven of Nine.

"Do you Seven of Nine, wish to offer your love for this man, Alan Samuels, vowing your total honour and commitment to him? To cherish and love him? And do so willingly, in this house of worship?"

"I shall comply," She agreed firmly.

"In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, I pronounce a blessing upon your partnership." He moved his hand in the familiar act of signing the cross over the two of them.

"Now for heavens sake. Kiss her, Samuels!" He demanded sharply.

The Colonel did as he was bid and found Seven of Nine's arms wrapping around him holding him in the embrace. There was a cheer from the gathering. General Fletcher reached over to Captain, taking her hand and kissed it.

"Thank you, Kathryn." He announced, "You've no idea just how good it is to see someone do that to him and without the aide of an armed guard."

"We will return to the base for a celebration drink, then we can let you go," He suggested, escorting her out the church.

"What did that ceremony mean?" She asked, still curious.

The General explained. "The Padre can't marry them, so he has simply come up with another way of putting Anneka's ghost to rest. Samuels has made a public statement of his love and his total commitment to Miss Nine. The fact that Miss Nine has also sworn to the same pledge, will mean that he will have no choice but to cut his tie to a woman that will have been dead for six hundred years when you get back!"

"You were right, Sir. It is time I left some of my past behind. Thank you!" The Colonel said to the Padre, after Seven had finally disengaged from him.

"Just make sure you make the most of it, my son. Perhaps your young lady can give to you some of what we owe. Go in peace and happiness, then marry her!" He demanded. He turned back for the vestry.

"Can I get you another drink, Captain?" Asked General Fletcher, in the Mess. The impromptu party had been running for over an hour.

"Thank you, please! You've had this all arranged," The Captain accused him, laughing and accepting another glass of cider. She quite liked this drink, she decided, she wondered if it could be replicated aboard Voyager.

"Not entirely for the reasons you are thinking of," He assured her. "The pledge she made in the church was Miss Nine's and the Padre's doing. This is the Colonel's leaving party."

Sergeant-Major O'Neil approached them carrying a small case. "Excuse me Ma'am," He announced seriously. "But I wonder if you would look after these for the Colonel, there may come a point when he might accept them, or perhaps Miss Nine will accept them for him."

"What are they?" She asked in surprise.

"They are his awards and commendations, Ma'am. His wife and I used to rescue them from the bin. He always threw them away as soon as he got them. But perhaps he will grow a little softer now!" He suggested sadly.

"I doubt he knows how, he certainly hasn't accepted anything from us!" She confided to him, "But I'll take them, if I can read them?"

"Somebody ought to," The Sergeant Major agreed candidly.

"Carry on Sergeant Major." The General interrupted them.

The Sergeant Major took a breath and bellowed. "Ladies and Gentlemen, Silence for the General please!"

The room came to an instant silence.

The General spoke up. "Ladies and Gentlemen, a toast to our departing friend, officer and gentleman, may he and the love of his life, live long in peace and in happiness. Lieutenant-Colonel Alan Samuels!"

"Lieutenant-Colonel Alan Samuels!" Came the general response.

The Colonel immediately responded. "Ladies and Gentlemen, to Her Majesties 60th Rifle Regiment, May it's spirit never break!"

"The Sixtieth!" Came the reply.

"Jones the Blacksmith dropped this off an hour ago," General Fletcher announced to the Colonel, he handing him a long package. "It seems he's been working on it for the last four days. He claims it is better than the original, but you will have to stone it yourself, there wasn't time to do that."

Carefully the Colonel unwrapped it, to find his new sword. He picked it up, marvelling at the intricate patterns in the steelwork.

"It seems a little lighter and perhaps a little shorter than the old one," He commented, "But perfectly balanced," He agreed as he flexed it. "Very acceptable. Could you give him my thanks, please, Sir?"

"Already done." He assured him.

"I wish to give you this as well," he added handing a package to the Colonel. "Don't open it yet, wait until you leave." He added quickly, then turned to the Captain

"I'd like to present you with this as a token of friendship, Captain," He offered her a box.

"What is it?" She asked taking it from him.

"You'll see later," he answered, "Now I think we'll bid our farewells and get back to normal," He suggested.

The Star Fleet party, complete with Colonel Samuels beamed out an hour later from their landing point.

"Well Sergeant-Major, that's the last we'll see of him," The old General commented sadly, as they watched them go.

"He'll be back Sir! Can't keep him away," Sergeant-Major O'Neil opined cheerfully, "But that lady of his will look after him, Sir. You'll see."

"For once Sergeant-Major I fully agree with you! And he will accept it for once!" General Fletcher slapped his Sergeant-Major on the back, "Come on I'll buy you a pint."

"Sir!"

"B'Elanna, how soon can we have the device ready?" Captain Janeway asked as soon as they beamed aboard.

"About twenty-four hours Captain," B'Elanna confidently predicted. "I'll get Vorick assembling the parts now."

"Progress report in twenty hours," She demanded, "I'm going to sleep this head off first. Tuvok, get us underway, back to our arrival point."

"Captain," He agreed blandly.

In her cabin she divested herself of her jacket and opened the carton given her by General Fletcher. She took out the plaque she found there and examined it. The door chimed.

"Enter," She called.

"What do you want Colonel?" She asked tiredly as he stepped across the threshold.

"Permission to speak Ma'am?" He asked formally.

"Carry on!" She agreed.

"I'd like to thank you Ma'am, for letting me stay. For once I think I'm following the right advice. But I'd like to ask you to take care of this for me Ma'am?"

He handed her one of the packages he had been given.

"What is it?" She asked, examining the green cloth it contained.

"It's the Regimental Colours, Ma'am. The most precious thing in the Regiment. Lose them and the Regiment is lost. They are better off in your keeping, until we reach Earth again."

She nodded an agreement. "Can you tell me what this is?" She indicated the brass plaque she had been given.

"It's an original shako badge of the America's Rifles, Ma'am. We found some in the stores in Colchester, and turned them into presentation plaques. I didn't think there were any left." He answered immediately.

"It's a work of art," She commented, marveling at its intricacies. "Thank you. We'll try to keep them all safe. We'll talk properly tomorrow." She assured him.

"Good night Alan," She slipped it in, to see what the reaction would be.

"Good night Kathryn," He responded coolly, taking his leave.

"Miss Nine. I know we are not married and you have the right to refuse any request I may make, especially as the request may be construed improper. But I must ask. May I embrace and kiss you , then join you for regeneration in bed. I'm dog tired?" The Colonel stammered.

"That is acceptable," She agreed immediately, revelling in him volunteering to join her in bed for once. Though a touch of disappointment hit her that he had not volunteered anything else.

He stooped and picked her up in his arms, she clung to him fiercely.

"Tradition has it I should carry a bride across the threshold of a new life," He answered her unasked question, as he stepped through the door. She kissed him passionately, as they collapsed onto the bed. They curled up in each others arms as they dropped into sleep.

The whole ship waited breathlessly as B'Elanna Torres fed power to the time machine carefully via the deflector array. It had been decided that the machine should be beamed off the ship and power applied remotely, to avoid the danger of an explosion.

"Coming up to full power now, Captain," She announced.

"There is a power surge establishing itself in the machine," Confirmed Ensign Kim. "A spatial rift is forming."

"Tom, as soon as it's big enough, head for it," Captain Janeway ordered. "The Delta Quadrant, isn't home, but it's a hell of a lot nearer than here!"

"Aye Ma'am," He responded,

"We are being pulled in," He confirmed a few minutes later.

Again the screen in front of them started to spin, then settled as they emerged from the rift.

"Report!" Captain Janeway demanded.

Seven of Nine responded from Astro metrics. "We have emerged in the Delta Quadrant, 300 light years from our start point, but nearer the Alpha Quadrant, 10 days earlier than entry. There was a deviation in the reconstruction of the device. I shall engage a new sensor sweep." She commented.

"I'll live with that, we're two months nearer home," The Captain drawled happily.

In Astro metrics, Seven returned to the Colonel, wrapping her arms around him again and laying her head against his chest, savouring the flood of feelings of love and protection she was feeling. "I love you!" She murmured. She had been given a definition for the term that seemed right and had answered the questions she had spent so long attempting to solve. She revelled in it.

Revision 17