A Private Little War


Voyager stumbles into a civil war between parallel Universes

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

The story line and the Colonel are my own.

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

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 2001


It was one of those beautiful evenings, the type that persuade poets to wax lyrically of golden rays of sun lovingly kissing twisted spires with flecks of gold and ruby red as it set behind equally golden fields in its fiery nightcap. Offering peace and tranquility to all and sundry. The environmental controllers had done well tonight.

Those of Destron 4 without anything special to do, accepted the vipers invitation willingly, lazing in the warm after glow. An opportunity to forget their own troubles. Safe in the assurances that the Empire would never find their planet with its Poly-morphic shielding that would defy any attempt of the Empire to find them. Comforted by the news that the Empire had suffered grievous loses and the Federation would soon be victorious in war. A war that had continued since both the Federation and Empire had been founded.

The rumour that the Empire's own planet was covered by a similar shield, yet had been successfully attacked by their own fleet under High Admiral Maka were not taken seriously. Until the sirens sounded..

For a few minutes there was silence. Some looking nervously looking toward the sky, parents glanced around for their off-spring, others simply ignored it as another drill.

The sirens continued. A few started to drift towards the shelters, as a thin whistle started to catch more sensitive ears.

The shielded sky above flashed and faded letting in the real dark. More ominously six dark shadows also appeared. They rapidly took on a more solid box form as they plummeted lower.

Then the screaming started, the slow orderly drift changing instantly into a panicked rush for the safety of the cavernous, but rat infested, shelters. A few hardier souls stopped to demand the where-abouts of the planetary defences. But there were none. Unbeknown to the populace Destron had put its faith into its last attack. The remains of its fleet were still returning from a very similar raid on the Empire.

If there were screams whilst the bombs fell nobody knew. They were masked by the roar of the enemies ships screaming overhead, detonations as mighty warheads met their targets and roars when they found vital ones.

There were few screams sixty seconds later, when their task done, the enemy departed. It was the time for tears as those that had found safety crept back into the open again to view the ruined remains and look for the remains of their loved ones.


Admiral Takart viewed the results of his raid with no satisfaction. The two sides were even again, no more no less, just as they had always been.

The war between the Empire and Federation had become a long one of attrition, with long successions of stand-offs as scientists struggled to find the perfect weapon to crush their enemy and the strategists planned how to use them. The latest idea had been to penetrate the poly-morphic shields that protected Destron 4.

The irony of the fact that Federation had used exactly the same tactics, on exactly the same shield technology, thirty hours earlier was not lost upon him. Only the fact that a random event had caused an engine failure aboard one of his ships had prevented the attacks occurring almost simultaneously. The truth was that everything the Empire did was mirrored by the Federation almost exactly. He yearned for a random event that would make a difference.


You know, I've heard a strange rumour that there is a ghost in here? The Captain commented with a cheerful grin and sauntering to a halt in Astrometrics.

Ghost. A spectral apparition of a spiritual nature, Seven of Nine defined calmly, turning to face her. Such things do not exist.

That is what I thought, the Captain agreed. But they say it looks like Seven of Nine. But it can't be her because she would prefer to spend off-duty time with somebody else. What would you call it?

I believe there to be a conspiracy between both the Doctor and Colonel to reduce my efficiency, Seven of Nine explained frankly.

They have suggested I should rest and take up a hobby during my off-duty periods, Seven declared.

Sounds like a good idea, the Captain admitted. Have you?

I have made it my hobby to enhance the Astrometrics system, Seven agreed, turning back to her console and started clicking her way through the huge array of sensor suites at her disposal.

I don't think that is what they had in mind, the Captain suggested, suppressing the desire for laughter.

Perhaps. However I am in constant communication with the Colonel, his physical presence is therefore not essential for my well being, Seven admitted. And my 'hobby' has permitted the detection of a previously undetected anomaly.

You've located a lot of anomalies, the Captain observed with a grin, moving closer to inspect the readings Seven of Nine was taking. It's one of your many useful abilities. Why should this one be of such interest to order me down to Astrometrics?

Only the new Polyphonic detection grid detected it. It is of a Poly-morphic nature. It twists and bends our detection systems, preventing normal sensor readings. I cannot ascertain the nature of the fields generator above the fact that it appears to fluctuate naturally, I believe it may be shielding a planet, Seven explained.

Is the planet populated?

I do not know. I cannot detect bio-signatures through the shielding, Seven admitted.

I managed to penetrate the shield to complete geographical surveys. Many of the geographical features suggest the possibility of Dilithium. The planet is significantly closer than the one previously identified, she added quickly.

And you would like to go and have a look for the exact causes, especially as it could be your last chance for a while? The Captain offered with a wry grin, reading the almost pleading look in the ex-Borgs eyes as she looked back at her.

After four months Seven was very obviously pregnant and she was already finding limitations as to what she could do both on and off duty.

It is quite a way off of our course, for something we don't know is there and desperately needed, the Captain pondered as she finally saw the planets location.

The feature is of interest, Seven argued hopefully. Investigation will permit modification to the sensor suites to permit the detection of similar anomalies. With the possibility of gaining Dilithium at an earlier point than previously estimated.

Alright, you can take a shuttle and investigate, The Captain laughed. Provided the Doctor agrees you are upto it. I assume you will need the Valoria, so the Colonel will go as pilot.

Lieutenant Tom Paris can pilot the Valoria. I do not need the Colonel's assistance, Seven intercepted.

I know he can, the Captain agreed. But you are forgetting several things trying to be independent from the Colonel. The first is that I will put the Colonel on any away mission if there is the possibility of danger involved. As the Ferrengi would say, 'It's as good as Latinum in the bank'. The other is that I couldn't actually stop him from going. He's not crew and even if he were, he would find a way and challenge me to put him in the Brig afterwards. Besides, I think he has got the hang of the limitations you put on his care'. Hasn't he?

He has attempted to exceed the limitations twice, Seven declared, hurrying for the door. He apologised when I made made the excess clear.

The Captain grinned at Seven's eagerness and slipped a sweet from the bag she had left on the top of the console. If pregnancy was inconvenient for Seven, it was proving almost impossible for the Colonel.


The Doctor was more cautious about an Away Mission with Seven of Nine involved.

Are you sure you need to go? He quizzed. It could be dangerous and you will not be able to regenerate properly. As a mother to be' you need your beauty sleep!

It is not possible to gain sufficient data from Voyager, Seven disputed. Nor will it be dangerous. The Captain has demanded that the Colonel will accompany me.

The Doctor grunted. The Colonel would undoubtedly take care of physical protection, but he was more worried about the health implications.

Have you had any problems?

Mild discomfort in my lower spine and pressure in my intestinal tracts, Seven admitted. They do not interfere with my operation.

"You should consider replicating these," the Doctor offered, indicating the computer terminal. "They are a range of maternity wear I have designed for you. They have been designed to provide support and expansion room whilst still maintaining a fashionable aspect."

"Fashion is irrelevant," Seven declared stonily viewing the Doctors creations on the screen.

"Perhaps you should discuss them with your husband?" the Doctor offered, proffering a handful of PADD's.

Very well, the Doctor agreed after a few moments thought. I think I can accept four days. But I want you to ensure that you regenerate for at least ten hours per day. Your portable unit is not as effective as the alcove in Cargo Bay 2.

"Acceptable," Seven confirmed quickly, snatching up the PADD's and heading for the door before he could think of something else.


"Why don't you grow up!" An exasperated and clearly furious B'Elanna Paris screamed at Tom.

Others in the Mess for lunch simultaneously looked up and ducked at the explosion. Arguments between the two lieutenants were not in themselves unusual. But this one seemed to have real fury in it. Confirmed when B'Elanna threw not just her plate of Neelix's Table-d-Hote at him, but his as well, then stormed from the Mess.

From a corner table the Colonel sighed, it was another symptom of the low state of readiness aboard the ship, he decided. He returned to his conversation with Chakotay.

"I'm sorry, Sir. You were saying about Ensign Abbott?"

"I don't want her hurt," Chakotay stated plainly.

Didn't say stand in the street and bellow, 'Get a life you silly cow', the Colonel suggested. Just get her involved with somebody her age.

"She does not seem to be interested in joining the rest of the crew."

"Perhaps she's using you as a crutch?" the Colonel offered shrewdly. "She has to learn to continue on her own two feet sooner or later. Sooner would be better. What about you?

"It's been good to be the focus of attention," Chakotay admitted guardedly.

"But not what you really want?"

Chakotay shook his head. "No. But I'm not sure that I will ever have that either. She barely talks to me, except for orders and appearances. I'm not even invited to dinner anymore. I've told her there is no truth in the rumours.

There is always truth in rumour, the Colonel opined. It's a fool that ignores them. A rumour the size of the one that is floating around here, has to have more than a grain of truth in it."

The Colonel grunted as his communicator beeped. "Whether it is or not. It is about time you made a decision about where your loyalties lie. Remember your decisions affect the ship as much as the Captains," he stated quietly standing up.


"All ready for the 'Magical Mystery Tour'? Please show your tickets to the conductor on boarding," The Colonel quipped, greeting Seven of Nine and B'Elanna Paris as he appeared with his pack in the shuttle bay an hour later.

He was greeted by a scowl from B'Elanna, which made him wonder if the Captain had heard of her earlier exchange, and the expected chastising eyebrow from Seven of Nine for flippancy.

Keeping his happy demeanour, he took his station for pre-flight checks and wondered how stormy the trip was going to be. He could cope with both, provided it was one at a time, but B'Elanna and Seven fighting between themselves would make life difficult.


Captain Janeway watched the shuttle wink out of sight with a wistful sigh and a little jealousy. The anomally Seven had found did require investigating, but the need for Dilithium was becoming acute, as was her crew concerns.

"Put us back on course. Warp 3," she commanded brusquely, turning back to immediate problems. I'll go over the infraction reports in my Ready Room now, Commander.


"Would it be rude to ask if you meant that public little display earlier?" The Colonel asked some hours later to break the silence. Seven of Nine had decided to use the flight to regenerate as the Doctor had demanded, it left him free to take up the subject.

"Yes! B'Elanna snapped, before recovering a little of her temper. "Why do you always let Seven get away with the things she does to you?"

The Colonel smiled. "You would be surprised at what I would let friends get away with. In Mrs Nines case, I love her dearly and she makes up for them later, so I can forgive her little foibles. I think she thinks I need to be taken care of. Besides, we keep our disagreements private and in the end she would never prevent me doing what I need to do."

"I wish Tom would be more like that," B'Elanna confessed. "You know what he did?"

The Colonel shook his head and offered a bag from the top of Seven of Nine's Console to her.

"He's written another of those juvenile bar holo-programmes," B'Elanna said accepting a sweet from the bag.

"Very romantic places, bars," the Colonel observed

"He spends most of his spare time writing them," B'Elanna protested. "Then gets me to go with him, along with Harry and whoever he is trying that day. Today he announced the fifth one in two weeks!"

"Everybody needs a hobby, the Colonel suggested. Perhaps you aren't giving him enough to think about?"

"I'm trying," B'Elanna pleaded. "But what I want him to think about can't be done in a bar!"

"I don't think I'll ask what that is," the Colonel guffawed quickly, with a hint of a blush tingeing his ears. "Just suggest that you meet him halfway. Write your own programme to get him thinking the way you want. If you need help, I'm sure Mrs Nine and Corporal Miller will help. Surprisingly, they are both romantic at heart. Now, rather than waking Mrs Nine and risking the wrath of the Doctor, would you care to tell me what that flashing alarm means?" He indicated at a blinking light on Seven's station.

"I think it's a cloaked ship," B'Elanna warned after a few moments examination. "I'm waking Seven. There are modifications in here that I don't know about."

"Six heavily cloaked vessels," Seven reported impassively a few minutes later. "They show no signs of having detected Valoria, or are ignoring us. They are enroute to intercept Voyager. Interception in 3 hours."

"Friendly?" The Colonel asked hopefully.

"Unknown."

"Burst a signal to Voyager," he demanded hauling the shuttle around. "Give me a course for home."

"You believe they are a danger?" Seven of Nine suggested. "We will be two hours too late to be of assistance. Nor were we attacked."

"Yes, I think they are in danger and we weren't attacked because we aren't a danger," the Colonel declared heavily. "We are merely a long range scout craft. Besides they came from the direction we are going. It suggests our destination is not as benign as it looked."


Voyager shook violently as it was struck by a torpedo without warning.

"Shields coming up."

"Weapons on-line."

"Damage reported deck 9, two injured. Damage control is operational."

"Executing avoidance pattern Epsilon."

"Scanning for hostile."

Around him the Dog Watch with barely a pause for breath launched into action with its customary lack of commands made. It allowed Winston to be almost relaxed in his "Captain to the Bridge!"

Voyager shook again. "Hit on rear starboard quarter," Ensign Kala reported. "Shields 70%."

"Avoidance pattern Delta Foxtrot," Ensign Hubbard announced.

"Still can't detect the hostiles, Sir!" Ensign Moraith reported from tactical. Winston cursed. wishing fervently that his new watch was as efficient as the original.

"Hard to Starboard pitch us low," he demanded, Hubbard in particular seemed to be too well trained in StarFleet doctrines.

"Sir?"

"I said hard to Starboard, Ensign," Winston demanded, launching himself at the pilots console and stabbing pads. "We've got to give the starboard shields time to regenerate!"

The Captain tumbled from the lift in time to see Winston push the crewman from his seat and take his place and the ship shake again.

"Report!" She demanded standing at the balcony, bracing herself against the next impact.

"Under attack by unidentified vessels. I can't shake them off or find them!" Winston shouted back.

Carver take tactical, Tom take Conn, Winston help Kala and Kim with ops. Modulate the shields and find what is attacking! Return fire as soon as we have a target, the Captain snapped as her crew tumbled in turn onto the Bridge.

And tell Valoria we are under attack, she added as she finally took her seat and trying to take stock.

Torpedo! Roll starboard, Carver called picking up the weapon on his screen.

He fired a phasor in the direction that the torpedo appeared from. Carver cursed.

Trying a tacion pulse. I could use some help, Ma'am? Kala pleaded from ops.

Winston, I said assist Kala, the Captain stormed seeing Winston still at Conn, Tom Paris behind him. Release Conn to Lieutenant Paris.

Got one. Firing, Carver announced as the effects of Kala's efforts showed on his screen, targeting his weapons as fast as Voyager would allow.

Got him! He announced with satisfaction as a strange vessel appeared on the view screen and slowly span away before disappearing again.

No effect, Winston reported bursting any jubilation and finally taking the station assigned. Their shields simply absorbed the torpedo.

Again Voyager rocked and Tom Paris's console exploded in sparks.

We've lost shields, Kim reported.

Weapons down!

Lost impulse! Tom reported.

Borders reported Cargo Bay 1, Engineering and Deck 4. Security can't hold them, Chakotay provided the last of the bad news.

Four figures materialised on the Bridge and span to threaten the crew.

A glance around at the others was all the confirmation the Captain needed, Voyager was lost. I am Captain Kathryn Janeway, commander of the Federation ship Voyager. I will surrender if you will spare my crew?

You are not in the position to make demands. We have your ship, the leader of the small group of invaders announced. You have violated territory of the Destron Empire. Your vessel will perform duties for us. You and your crew will be incarcerated as prisoners before interrogation and execution. If they declare themselves loyal to the Emperor then we may be so kind as to find a role for them in the war.

What war? The Captain snapped. We aren't involved in any war. Until you attacked we were unaware there was a claim for this area!

We have been at war with the Federation for four centuries. You have admitted to being members of the Federation, you are enemies of the state.

I don't know anything about what you are on about! The Captain pleaded. Our Federation is 30,000 light years away. We are travellers. Does this ship look like anything your enemies use?

Their generation facilities were destroyed in our last attack. Perhaps they have had to use primitive designs and mercenaries. Guards take them away. I will interrogate them later.

Speechless the Captain and her crew were led away.


I am unable to contact Voyager. My signals are being jammed, Seven of Nine observed impassively. I have detected energy discharges it suggests they are under attack.

It's not the ones that overtook us either, is it? The Colonel challenged looking back from his seat.

Seven shook her head. The time elapsed is not sufficient.

Before we charge in can you tell us more?

We are not close enough to detect the nature of the weapons, Seven explained. I do not believe them to have originated from Voyager.

The discharges have ceased, Seven announced a few minutes later. I am detecting two vessels in close proximity. The design is unfamiliar.

Voyager has been captured, the Colonel sighed. Then struck the consol with his fist and uttering a single vicious expletive.

Can you keep a track of what is happening at this range? He asked after a moments thought.

Automatically the Colonel shut down the Valorias engines and settled back in his chair. Just tell me when they move.

But we've got to do something! B'Elanna snapped.

We are, the Colonel assured her. We are going to try and avoid being captured. If they over-ran Voyager in a few minutes with two ships, there's not a lot of point us barging in. We'll wait and see what happens when the other chaps catch them.

And if they destroy Voyager? B'Elanna challenged.

We look for somewhere comfortable to stay while we thumb a lift.

But the Captain and Tom are on Voyager. You always say you will protect Voyager with your life! Is that just a boast? B'Elanna screamed in anger leaping to her feet in the small cockpit. Perhaps you are a coward. After all the only person you care for is with you!

This time when the Colonel turned to answer there was anger on his face. Mrs Paris, he said, his voice dangerously quiet. I was ordered to defend Voyager and her crew by my own commander. I will do so, giving my life for it just as readily as I would for Mrs Nine, if necessary. But I won't waste it. If Captain Janeway and the crew are not already dead, then they will be just as alive in a one, two or three days time. By then those bastards will have relaxed and will be busy toasting each other. Then this little cockleshell might have a chance of getting in unmolested. What happens then is in Gods hands, not mine, but I promise a bloody trail a mile wide. Until then we wait. If you try to do something without my say so, then you will be on the top of my list of prospective casualties.

You wouldn't dare! B'Elanna hissed, challenging the implied threat.

Before she could respond further, she found herself thrust back into her seat, the Colonel towering over her and his knife pressing gently at her throat. Don't try me, he growled in a whisper.

You wouldn't be the first. And before you ask. Yes, I would, as I would with anybody that tried to dispute my orders, he added stepping back from the shocked engineer, slipping the blade back from where it had appeared. You are a brilliant engineer and I know you can fight, but you haven't a chance. Not until Voyager and crew are safe. You can do anything you like to me then.

They glared at each other for a moment. B'Elanna trying to make sense of his comment.

This discussion is irrelevant, Seven of Nine interrupted the burgeoning argument. The vessels we originally detected are returning. We are about to be intercepted.

Have they found us, or can we slip away? The Colonel demanded snapping back to the more immediate problem.

Affirmative. Nor will we be able to out run them, Seven observed still impassive.

Can we target them? B'Elanna demanded activating the weapons consol.

But could we take out all six? The Colonel asked quietly. I think not. Turn the weapons off please, Lieutenant. We can only do so much with this ship.

Irritably B'Elanna Paris slapped the consol shut again and waited breathlessly as Seven supplied a running commentary of the hidden ships progress, until one appeared silently above them. From there commentary was not required. They could see the light above them as they were tractored into the hold.

I think we avoid unpleasantries for the time being, the Colonel observed as a sizeable body of armed and armoured humanoids gathered around the shuttle and stood ready as they waited for them to exit. At least until we know whether they are as professional as they look.

Quietly he gathered Seven of Nine's portable regenerator and slung it up onto his back. Ladies, after you, he said nodding towards the door.

Which of you is in command? A voice rang out as they stepped off the Valoria.

I am. Lieutenant-Colonel Samuels of Her Majesties Sixtieth Rifles, the Colonel responded immediately.

Take him for interrogation, the voice commanded. You are prisoners of the Destron Federation, suspected of being in league with the Empire.

Four guards stepped forward and tried to pull the pack from the Colonel's back.

Hold Hard! He snapped. My wife needs it for her health. I wish to be interned with my crew.

If found guilty, your health is immaterial, a voice told him. We will decide if the contents of the pack are required. With that it was ripped from his back.

Automatically the Colonel span and lashed out at the figure that had pulled it away. His fist striking home into its throat forcing it to drop the pack and cough violently. Instantaneously he was set upon by eight guards. He threw two off before being overpowered and pushed to the ground. There he was roughly manacled before being dragged away unconscious.

I thought he said no rough stuff? B'Elanna commented under her breath to Seven of Nine as they were led away.

He did, Seven responded evenly. Their actions prompted an automatic response.


How many of us are there? Captain Janeway demanded as she was ushered into the Mess.

Pretty well all the crew, Captain, Neelix said quietly. I think there are still some in Sickbay. But I don't know if the Doctor is able to treat them.

The Captain nodded her satisfaction with the report and gave her instructions. Kim and Kala, see if you can find out what they are doing aboard the ship. You three, keep a watch on the door. Then she sank into a chair.

I've got Corporal Miller, Captain! Kim exclaimed after a few minutes work at the Mess terminal. I think he's been trying to contact us!

Permission to speak, M'm? A quiet cockney voice sounded.

She hissed in surprise. You are part of the ship, the Destrons have control.

I ain't the ship. My orders were to accept your orders, M'm. One of the crew like? Miller responded. Please, M'm. I need instructions as well, M'm. There are a couple of very determined geezers trying to get into the core. They are good, they've got through three of my encryption walls already. Do you want me to continue to resist?

How long can you hold them? She asked quickly.

he admitted. But I could fry the whole system if you want?

If you do that then they might as well destroy the ship, Chakotay observed from beside her having heard the conversation.

I agree. Do you know what they are doing? The Captain asked.

We are moving, M'm, Miller reported. Some sort of tractor beam, but I can't detect what's pulling us, or the course. As for the blokes aboard, they are stripping equipment like a bunch of bleedin' gipsies.

Can you give the impression of serious damage to the Destrons from their breaking in? Chakotay asked, thinking hard.

Ain't gonna hold em long, Sir.

But it'll give us time, the Captain accepted. Let them see our flight logs, it might help them understand where we've been. In the mean time we need to know how many there are and where. Can you do that?

Three in the corridor, four on the Bridge, two in the Central Computer Core and sixty doing mischief, M'm. All are heavily armed. I don't think you're bloody minded enough to rush them without serious casualties, Ma'am, Corporal Miller cautioned.


On Voyagers Bridge, Admiral Takart, commander of the Destron Fleet and the Destron Captain Janeway had offered her ship to, scratched his white hair in puzzlement.

The female, Captain Janeway, was certainly right about the ship not belonging to his enemies. The technology was totally different. A strange mix of advanced technology, like the astrometrics suite, and primitive, like the weapons and energy shielding. Even the Federation would have upgraded the weapons before sending mercenaries to fight. Unless they really thought they could approach Destron III by pretending to be explorers.

Then there was the computer system, that seemed to be actively fighting his own computer specialists. Throwing up complicated mazes of security, then as they were breached the data held within disappeared.

It could also prove to be the random event he had prayed for.

In the end he sighed. Bring the female known as Captain Kathryn Janeway, he demanded.

He met her in her own Ready Room and sitting behind her own desk.

Sit down, Captain Kathryn Janeway, he demanded.

The Captain was not given an opportunity to resist. She was simply pushed into a chair by the guard that had brought her.

It was particularly stupid of the Federation to send such a primitive ship, he started. Then held up his hand to stop the Captains protest. So stupid that your claims could almost be true, he continued. But my analysts have been going over your computer logs. What they can recover. Your records are also too fantastic to be true. So I am given to wondering what is the real truth, Captain Kathryn Janeway?

My computer records, the Captain declared instantly. We've been in the Delta Quadrant for years, after having been brought here by a being we know as the Caretaker.

I could use other means of extracting the truth, Takart observed. He placed a device like a hypospray on the desk, making sure the Captain had a good view of it. This one for instance will break your synapses, causing excruciating pain. But you will tell me the truth.

I am telling the truth! The Captain screamed leaping to her feet and ignoring the guard hovering behind her. Why not believe me?

Well your computer is being problematic, Takart observed. It could simply be supplying false information? I warn you, you are being interrogated for your crews lives. If I decide you are lying they will die when your ship is destroyed.

What are you going to do with my ship? She demanded in alarm.

It will end the war between the Federation and the Empire, Takart said calmly. If I am happy you are what you claim you may live as citizens of the Empire.

The computer has been programmed to only accept my orders. It resists because you haven't given me the opportunity to tell it otherwise, the Captain hissed, silently cursing both Miller and the Colonel. I'll tell you about our whole journey if it will help?

Perhaps, and I have plenty of time for stories. But I warn you, what you say will be matched with the computers records, Takart agreed indicating for her to continue.


I do not know if I am able believe your story, Captain Janeway, Takart said quietly after she had been speaking for two hours. It is my belief that your vessel is incapable of travelling so far. However I am tempted to concede you go are not necessarily in the employ of the Federation.

I will consider your statements and decide your fate when we reach Destron, Takart said in dismissal.


The Colonel stirred slowly to find himself strapped arms and feet to a chair. He tested the bonds gently. They seemed firm enough, though the plastic chair creaked. With nowhere to go there seemed little point in trying hard.

From there he glanced around taking in the surrounds. It was a simple metal walled cell, devoid of additional furniture or shadows. A single light shone down from above his head.

Satisfied that there was no immediate and nasty surprises, he settled to await events.

He did not have long to wait before a white haired figure entered.

Good day! The Colonel greeted him cordially. Are you the gaoler?

I am High Admiral Maka. I am here to listen to your confession, the stranger declared.

Odd, you don't look like a priest, the Colonel observed. The black coat is good, but without the beads and cross it doesn't work.

Behind the stranger a second white haired figure entered carrying a chair. This he placed a short distance in front of the Colonel and departed again.

The stranger enquired sitting in the vacant chair. What is a priest?

A gentleman that entreats me to confess my sins to the Lord and promises a safe passage to Hell if I don't, the Colonel admitted. I tend not to take them seriously. I know the Devil doesn't want me either.

I do not know what they are either, the stranger admitted openly.

Another of those terribly advanced races that only want to believe in convenience, the Colonel moaned, studying Maka as he sat in front of him. The white hair looked as though it were cut to the pattern of a quart pudding basin. Elongated ears running from the base of the skull to near the top of the crown made a pink slash through an otherwise immaculate hairstyle. Whilst the pink eye's were wide and lacked a distinct pupil.

I do know what you are attempting to do. You are attempting to control your own interrogation, Maka challenged.

Now how can I do that? The Colonel asked in open eyed innocence. As far as I can see I'm the only one here bound to a chair. You can at least walk off when you get bored.

Well Mr Maker, he continued smoothly.

Maka interrupted with the correction.

So sorry. I swear you said Maker, the Colonel apologised. As I was saying. I confess a certain level of sorrow about the chap who ripped my pack off me. I promised my wife I was going to control my reactions. But he was awfully rude. I trust he is not too seriously injured?

He was not seriously injured, Maka accepted.

Good. She must be getting to me, the Colonel grinned. Now what else would you like me to confess too?

That you are a spy, Maka declared, fighting to take the initative.

Good. So I am a spy, the Colonel admitted. Now we are getting somewhere. Now who for? I can hardly admit to being a spy unless I know who for?

The Destron Empire, Maka answered quickly.

Okay. I am a spy for the Destron Empire. Would you care to tell me what sort of spy I am?

Maka looked at him in confusion.

Well I can hardly be a simple spy. Spies always have a motive, the Colonel explained, Sabotage, intelligence, miss-information, counter-espionage. Which would you like me to be?

You are intending to carry out sabotage, Maka declared hopefully.

So I turn up in a vessel with two others, looking nothing like you or yours and allow you to arrest us for being hell bent on blowing something up. Hardly a good story is it? The Colonel suggested mildly. Especially as our mother ship was attacked by what I assume was the other lot. What was it you called them? The Destron Empire? I dare say my boss is having a very similar conversation with them?

Perhaps if you told me what I was supposed to be fighting for, we can come up with a good story? He offered kindly.

You are not a spy, are you? Maka finally accepted standing up.

Good heavens No! The Colonel agreed. I'm a soldier. I've no time for mind games and skull-duggery. But you wanted me to be. So until now whatever I said you wouldn't believe.

Maka silently left the room then sagged against the wall as the door closed behind him.

Prisoners were supposed to be intimidated by the presence of an interogator. It made the task of obtaining the truth that much easier. A kind word of promise here, a threat there, even a little physical and mental abuse. They were all designed to obtaining the required truth. For eight cycles it had worked for him. He had met a few that had attempted to brazen out the interrogation. But there had never been one that had simply turned the tables. He was going to need help. Though he suspected that he already knew the truth. Perhaps one of the females would be easier to deal with.

With an effort he pulled himself together and turned to the waiting guards. You may place him with the other two until we reach Destron 4.


Four days after her first meeting with Takart, Captain Janeway was marched back to the Ready Room. Again Takart was sat in her chair and she was forced to take the chair facing him.

I am prepared to offer you and your crew asylum on Destron, Captain, he smiled encouragingly at her.

We don't want asylum! Captain Janeway drawled. Just let us go on our way. All we want to do is go home!

That will not be possible, Captain, Takart snapped. Whilst I have no desire to destroy your crew, the arrival of your ship in our space is the random event that we have been waiting for for four hundred of your years. It will end our war with the Federation.

The Captain demanded angrily.

As way of explanation Trakart activated the desktop view screen. It panned through the blackened and ruined buildings of the capital.

We have been at war with the Federation ever since we colonised the planet, he explained. Their planet, like ours, was protected by an advanced poly-morphic shield that hid it and a naval battle fleet. Two months ago we discovered how to penetrate their planetary shield. So did the Federation. They attacked Destron III, 30 hours before we attacked their planet, the results you can see for yourself, along with nearly 4,000 casualties.

I'm sorry, the Captain sympathised. But what has it got to do with my ship?

Don't you see, Captain! Trakart exclaimed. We have been uniquely matched. Every advance we make in our technologies is matched by one of theirs. We invented robot warriors and the next time we fought we were met by an equal number of robot warriors. We increase our manufacturing capacity and theirs has matched. We lose a ship, so do they. It is like fighting your own reflection. Your ship has been the first time we have had a positive advantage. Something the Federation hasn't got! I intend to use it!

The Captain demanded again.

We have stripped and disabled your ships controls, including your interfering computer, Trakart said. Some of the technology will be of assistance to us in rebuilding. But we have also loaded a Trilithium device. Your ship will be guided onto a path to intercept their sun. When it explodes, it will induce solar flares so large that they will engulf the Federations home world.

For a moment the Captain sat in stunned horror at the declaration. Total genicide, she whispered. Why not simply ask for peace. They must be as sick of your war as you are?

They will not accept, Takart said simply. There can be only one victor.

How do you know? she snapped.

Because I wouldn't accept.

And you think I will allow you to destroy a race, in favour of living on your planet?

You have no real choice, Takart said. Your crew will be able to live out their natural lives.

You're right, she declared heavily. There is no choice. I will not be a party to this. I will find a way to stop you!

Pity. Your help would have been invaluable, Takart sighed. Take her away. Place her with her crew in Cargo Bay 2 and seal it.

The Captain had a full five minutes to view her new cell before the rest of the crew were escorted into the hold. It took her nearly all of them to take in the state of Seven's alcove. It had been partially dismantled and or smashed as the Destrons had tried to understand its function. The parts were now distributed over the floor, they crunched under foot as she walked around it. Absentmindedly she got on her knees to pick up some of the more delicate parts.

Kathryn. What is happening, Chakotay demanded as the heavy door closed behind them.

She gave him a weak smile. They gave me an option I could refuse, she said. They intend to use Voyager as a guided bomb to destroy the Federation. They said we could watch. The choice was from where. There is a lot of things I can accept, but not genicide.

I think you had better explain, Chakotay demanded calmly, pulling her to a corner.

I think it would have been nice to have had a choice, Chakotay said when she had finished. But my answer would have been the same. What do we do?

I don't know yet, she admitted thoughtfully. But they don't seem to know about the Valoria, so perhaps the Colonel may be able to get involved. I can't see him letting himself be caught Not that Seven will have much of a home to come to, she indicated the dilapidated alcove.

Get Caerey to start repairing it, she decided. Some others on getting to the computer. This is our ship and we aren't letting it go. We might not be able to take them on directly in a fight, but there are other ways.

The Colonel once broke in to this hold, when you confined Seven to quarters and he didn't trigger an alarm, Chakotay offered. Perhaps we can find how he did it?

Do it!


B'Elanna surveyed their quarters on Destron in distress. Although all around appeared to have been devastated, the cell complex was most definitely intact, right to the windowless room she was forced to share with the others and two very secure gates. There was less chance of escaping this cell than with the Valoria against the enemy fleet.

It was infuriating her nearly as much as the Colonel's seeming acceptance of the situation, and the way he happily followed Maka and his men to interrogation. Apart from his obvious annoyance at the Destrons not returning Seven's regenerator after the second day (when she had thought he would have gone 'Ballistic'), he had barely grunted a disapproval. Against anybody else she was sure the bodies would be piling up.

But even that paled into insignificance compared to the hurt from his threat before they were captured. Why wouldn't he fight his way out? He could have done it. We've seen it! She demanded turning on Seven of Nine as she sank quietly onto one of the small cots.

He believes we will have a better chance of success later. Perhaps one of surviving and rescuing Voyager, Seven of Nine suggested evenly.

For a moment B'Elanna glared at her, then saw Seven sway. Seven, are you okay? She asked in surprise.

My regeneration is overdue, Seven of Nine excused. I am experiencing dizziness. It will pass.

Lay down, B'Elanna demanded rushing up to support the blonde in sudden concern as she teetered. It'll help. Gently she swung Seven of Nine back on to the cot.

The Colonel's comment on the Valoria, Seven whispered as her eye's closed.

What comment?

He was referring to me.

He wouldn't! He couldn't! B'Elanna gasped in horrified realisation as the memory of the Colonel with his knife pressed at her throat returned.

I would be interfering with the efficient prosecution of his duty. He is attempting to maintain my instructions.

What instructions? B'Elanna demanded urgently, but Seven had passed into deep sleep from which she would not awaken.

For a minute or two B'Elanna watched as Seven slipped into unconscious sleep. Seven had become ever quieter over the four days since their capture as her pregnancy took its toll, not so much on her natural resources, which would recover with rest, but more seriously upon her overladen Borg systems. They needed regular assistance from the portable regenerator just to be maintained, it was doubtful if it would be able to repair them now.

How am I going to explain this to him?' she wondered in exasperation. Seven of Nine had been carefully avoiding admitting her increasingly precarious state to the Colonel since the last time she was permitted to use it.

There was also Seven's comment, that she believed the Colonel would be prepared to kill her if she disputed his commands. B'Elanna did not believe it for a moment. She could not. It was impossible.

B'Elanna, took a last glance at the slumbering blonde on the bed before rising as the sound of the Colonel returning from yet another interrogation reached her.

What do we do now and what instructions did you give her? She demanded after the Colonel had been pushed inside the cell.

We wait for an opportunity. What instructions do you think she gave? he asked calmly, pushing past her to examine Seven of Nine. I suppose you are going to tell me she was tired? He asked looking up.

She was feeling dizzy. I told her to lay down, B'Elanna claimed. She fell to sleep herself. What instructions did she give you?

In that case thank you, Lieutenant. For not lying to me, he said quietly after a quick check of his watch. She is overdue regeneration and can't be as cavalier about it now. As for my instructions. I think the one she was referring to was 'Avoid getting hurt'. That went by the board when we saw these chaps. Now we're working to my rules. We get hurt when it will do some good, or there is no choice.

I think we are getting dangerously close, he added quietly.

He removed his jacket and gently spread it over the sleeping woman. Automatically Seven curled up under her new cover and he stepped away, pulling B'Elanna into the far corner.

Would you kill Seven. If she refused your order? B'Elanna demanded quickly.

The Colonel shrugged. You really don't want to know, he said quietly.

Could you? B'Elanna demanded again.

If it put others in danger. Then, Yes I would, the Colonel snapped savagely. But there would be two bodies for the Doctors slab at the end. Does that satisfy you, Lieutenant?

Stunned, B'Elanna could only gape at him open mouthed.

Have you heard of a Trilithium Bomb? He asked more quietly.

B'Elanna nodded. They are outlawed in the Alpha Quadrant, she said quickly. Extremely powerful, capable of destroying planets, but unstable.

If these stupid buggers put one on Valoria, could she fly close enough to a sun to do serious damage?

And get away. No! B'Elanna stated immediately.

I don't think they mean her to escape as well.

How big is it? B'Elanna demanded.

Said something along the lines of half-million mega-tonnes. It sounds like a big bang, the Colonel admitted. They intend to fly the Valoria close to the sun at the centre of the Empire and explode it. They seem fairly confident it will end their little war.

B'Elanna whistled. It's big, but it wouldn't destroy a star, she admitted.

They will be disappointed, the Colonel grinned, relaxing a little.

But it would destroy every planet in a billion kilometres from the flares it would cause, B'Elanna continued, causing him to start.

I was afraid it would be something like that, he sighed.

Look, I don't know how long we're going to have, he whispered urgently. As you know, I've been rather making a fool of the interrogator chaps. I told them I'm a spy and they didn't believe me. Now they've offered asylum while they carry out their little project. I told them I wanted your opinions first. So they'll be back for an answer in a minute or two. I was hoping to do a 'Captain Janeway' on them and talk them into just letting us go. Nothing unpleasant and everybody happy like. But it's gone too far for that and it looks as though they may have the last laugh. So it's time for you to say goodbye to our hosts.

You will have to do the best you can. If you can think you can take Mrs Nine then do so. But I don't think she will be a lot of help unless she gets a chance to regenerate and they won't give the portable back. There is a phial of my nanoprobes in my jacket. If you dip her assimilation thingies in it they'll hoover them up. They start to work almost immediately in the lab so they may give her a little boost for a while.

We aren't leaving you here! B'Elanna protested quickly to be silenced again by the Colonel.

We've had this argument before, Lieutenant. You will do your duty. I will do mine and keep them interested in me. It will give you and Mrs Nine an opportunity to escape to Valoria. She is about 600 metres away to the West, I saw her when I went for my last interrogation. You must find Voyager and stop her at all costs. Maka seems certain she has been loaded in similar fashion. His fleet is underway to stop her, but unless I've missed my guess the Empire will be underway to stop them. If you fail then we've lost our transport and our crewmates. Now if you would be so good as to deal with the probes?

Reluctantly B'Elanna turned to deal with the Colonel's orders, retrieving the phial as specified and manually dipping Seven of Nines leads into it. They worked as quickly as the Colonel had prophesied. Seven's eyes fluttered open within a few minutes.

My systems are performing at less than 60%, Seven of Nine warned groggily. I require extended regeneration.

B'Elanna whispered quickly to stop her springing up. Just relax and see if you can recover a little more. We aren't needed yet!

They waited a full thirty minutes for Maka to arrive for his answer.

You have come to an agreement? Maka asked mildly standing at the door.

Oh, Yes, the Colonel agreed amiably, waiting at the door. There are a few things I'd like to discuss though?

With a nod of command from Maka the security guard obligingly swung the door open and the Colonel stepped past. Then he closed it again.

You didn't ask what we agreed, the Colonel suggested reproachfully as he was escorted through the outer gate to the cells.

You have agreed to the logical solution of remaining alive, Maka stated curiously.

Well yes, there is that. I take that as read, the Colonel admitted. But what we actually discussed and agreed is that you and your race are as mad as coots.

Instantly he span and drove his fist into the throat of the security guard. In natural reaction the guard bent forward as he choked, to be caught by the Colonel and driven head first into the wall. Next he was spinning looking for the next target. There was none, Maka was already running in terror. The Colonel stooped, snapped up the guards weapon and fired after him.

There was a blue flash that momentarily blinded him. By the time he had recovered Maka had disappeared. The Colonel sighed and threw the weapon down in disgust, before rifling the fallen guard for the keys to let his friends out.

Bloody stupid weapons, he complained as he let B'Elanna free and bent to help Seven to her feet. Damned thing hang-fired on me.

This it? B'Elanna asked mildly, picking up the discarded weapon to examine.

A small sensor on the handle caught her expert eye. I'm not surprised it blew up. It's encoded to the user. You'd better give the next one to me to fix.

Never mind. Just get to the Valoria, the Colonel hissed, coming up behind her almost dragging Seven of Nine with him. If I get delayed, don't stop. Just get out of here!

He peered around the door post carefully. There was still nobody in sight. To the first building, then make your way around, he whispered. It's daylight so we can't afford to creep around. Just run. He pushed both women out of the cell complex towards the low building he had pointed out. He himself sprinted for a ruined building and scrabbled amongst the rubble, finally pulling out a wooden spar before running after them.

Round there, then 300 yards in the open. Go! He panted waving towards the corner of the building they were crouched beside.

Come on Mrs Nine. Soon have you tucked up in bed, he declared with confidence.

The short dash to the building had taken its toll of Seven of Nine's already strained and limited Borg resources and she was trembling from exhaustion. Seeing her state he caught her up in his arms and carried her after the flying Lieutenant Paris.

As he breasted the end of the building he could see B'Elanna already halfway to the Valoria. More alarming were two squads of Destron Guards converging on them. Determinedly he set off for the ship, then realised that with Seven of Nine in his arms he was not going to make it. Already several guards had stopped to shoot at B'Elanna, now less than fifty metres from the ship.

I think you will have to do the best you can, he whispered to the dazed Seven of Nine, placing her gently on the ground and giving her a gentle push forward. I'll try and hold them off.

Thus said he charged at the nearest squad, brandishing his makeshift club and screaming like the banshee.

They watched him coming in confusion for a full five seconds before bringing their weapons to bear. It was a full five seconds too long. With a final bound he was amongst them, making it impossible to fire without a real danger of hitting themselves, a problem that two Destrons found to their cost as they stunned each other. The Colonel's charge ended with the skittling of three more and finished with him thrusting the end into a fourth. The remaining two, unable to contend with the savage attack, ran.

Finding no more enemies within reach, the Colonel turned and groaned. Seven of Nine was still standing where he had put her. There was enough time to reach the shuttle or Seven of Nine before being overrun. He made his choice and headed for Seven.

The Colonel was within three strides of catching her when Seven was caught by a Destron phasor beam. Desperately he caught her before she fell and shielded her from more strikes, turning his back to his enemies, before gently lowering her to the ground.

I'm sorry my love, he whispered, kneeling over her. I tried for too long!

Before he could spring up again he in turn was struck by three beams and fell, sprawling over Seven. The last thing he heard before losing consciousness was Valoria roaring into the sky.


B'Elanna had taken it as read that the Colonel was going to look after Seven of Nine the moment he had gathered her up in his arms and had simply run as instructed. Head down, she put in the concentration that had led her into the athletics team at Starfleet Academy during her short tenure, even when phasor beams started to strike the ground around her.

For a moment she stumbled as a beam rent a gouge in the floor infront of her, but she caught herself and leapt over the rent and onto the boarding ramp of the ship.

Before she ducked inside, she looked back and saw the Colonel, carrying Seven of Nine start out from the dubious cover of the building. He was so slow. Then she entered the ship to find two things in her path.

The first was a large white box, nearly a Metre in all directions. The second was a white haired figure on his knees, securing an access hatch on the box. With no time for questions, she kicked him hard in the back, then as he reared, smashed his head against the same box. He crumpled, blood oozing from his forehead where it had impacted on the corner. Only then did she realise what he had been doing and what the box was. He had been priming the bomb!

Again B'Elanna risked a peek outside.

Seven of Nine standing motionless less than halfway to the Valoria. Come on! She screamed at the dazed woman, waving frantically.

Seven of Nine looked her way and took a step, then stopped again, unable or unwilling to move. More obvious was the Colonel charging towards her.

Taking the pilots console, B'Elanna energised the engines and watched in desperation from the cockpit window as first Seven, then the Colonel were caught in laser fire from the Destrons weapons and slumped to the ground. Wretchedly she sealed the doors and applied power, lifting the Valoria into the sky.

Five frantic minutes later she set the ship into a safe orbit and found once in space the Valoria already had firm ideas as to where she was going. The auto-pilot cut in and the ship turned to face a course, before blasting off at Warp 3. Nothing she could do would persuade it otherwise.

Instead B'Elanna turned to her other problems. Her unwanted passenger was starting to recover. So she secured him with a length of flex ripped from a control panel before turned her attention to the controls on the box. Without an obvious 'Off' switch she sensibly decided that a tri-corder or her passenger were going to be necessary before she went too far with it.

From there, was the task of locating Voyager from the Valoria's sensor station. Voyager was easy to detect, so were the massive energy discharges that indicated where the two fleets had joined in battle. The latter lay between her and Voyager and was going to be a dangerous place for the Valoria to venture. She also scanned the planet for both Seven of Nine's and the Colonel's life signs. She found them, moving slowly but together. At least it meant they were still alive, she told herself. But there was no chance of a transporter lock at this range and until she could override the autopilot there was no option of going back. Visions of the Colonel standing over her, his knife at her throat and demanding her, 'To do her duty and follow his instructions at all costs', made her wince. He had prioritised her duties.

Well she did not have a lot of choice at the moment, she decided setting to work on unscrambling the automatic pilot.

An hour later B'Elanna tried to adjust the Valorias course to head directly for Voyager. Valoria refused the commands. In frustration she turned to the Destorn, laying conscious on the floor where she had left him.

Who are you and how do I defuse the bomb? She demanded.

I am Trunak. I am responsible for arming the device, ready for departure. It cannot be defused, Trunak declared. The firing mechanisim has been linked to your ships systems. It will explode when the ship is at the correct position to the Destron Empires sun. Any attempt to diffuse it will force the ship to take control of the ship and deploy security measures.

It looks as if your fleet has been destroyed, B'Elanna pointed out. There are no more energy discharges being detected by the sensors. And you know Voyager is on course for your home world, probably with a similar bomb? You've lost!

No. We have not lost! Trunak declared fiercely. Their fleet will have been destroyed as well. That is the way of the war. Our planet will be destroyed, but so will the Empires! That is also the way of things. The war will end!

Seems like losing to me, B'Elanna observed. There is supposed to be somebody left to say the wars stopped. Why not simply stop fighting?

Because there can only be one Destron, Trunak spat.

So I'll turn this ship around and send it into your Destrons sun? B'Elanna offered. Then when Voyager explodes there will only be one Destron, the Empires.

It is the wrong Destron.

So? You won't be there to complain, she snapped. The Colonel is right you are stupid.

Trunak went silent.

B'Elanna offered more calmly. If you will help defuse this bomb and the one on Voyager. Perhaps Captain Janeway can help you make peace with the Empire?

There can only be one Destron, Trunak repeated stubbornly.

B'Elanna sighed. She was not a negotiator like the Captain, capable of gentle reasoning with all but the most belligerent. Nor did she have the physical presence of the Colonel for when reasoning failed.

What will happen to the Colonel and Seven? She asked changing the subject.

They will be tried and executed in a couple of days. Once the enormity of your treachery is known, Trunak said solemnly.

Not wanting to die isn't treachery! B'Elanna exploded.

They have interfered with the Federations plans. It is treachery.

Now thoroughly alarmed, B'Elanna turned her attention back to the Trilithium device and how it might control the ship.


We've found how the Colonel got in! Ensign Carver exclaimed in triumph. There is an access panel to an emergency bypass trunk. And he never reconnected the alarms.

It was the first good news the Captain had received in nearly a week and it prompted a wan smile. Perhaps he expected to use it again? She suggested. Where does it go?

Don't really know, Carver admitted. It's meant to link into the vent ducts, so I suppose we could get almost anywhere.

Ensign Kim, how is the computer coming? The Captain asked. I would like to know where the Destrons are.

Kim looked up from the remains of Seven of Nines computer terminal and shook his head. I've got in, he declared. But it's a real mess. I'm sure there is nobody in the Torpedo Room, or Airponics. But I can't say about anywhere else.

It'll do. There is a weapons store next to the Torpedo Room. We'll start there. Carver, gather a security team for an assault squad and follow me. Chakotay, bring a second team to control Engineering when we've cleared it. Mr Kim, keep working on the computer, the Captain reeled off her orders quickly, then checked as Carver interrupted.

Excuse me, Captain, he said quickly. But you shouldn't be with the team to take Engineering. It isn't safe. Security can take it. It was one of the scenarios the Colonel planned out for us.

It is my ship and I want it back, she snapped. I'm coming.

Carver looked appealingly at Chakotay, who shook his head.

Aye, Ma'am, he agreed unhappily and dived after her as she ducked through the access port, quickly followed by eight others.


You said the Colonel had a scenario for this? The Captain asked quietly twenty minutes later as they armed themselves from the weapons locker. What is it and will it work?

Carver grinned. Does the Colonel love Seven of Nine? He asked confidently. It works. We tried it on the holodeck.

Then you had better tell me what you want me to do, she said quietly. I'm taking a tip from him. This is your operation. But I'm coming in with you.

Aye Ma'am, Carver agreed readily, before turning to brief his team.

We do it as we practised. It should be easier, there are none of us in there, so anybody in the wrong spot is an enemy. T'Pau take the vents, Holise the Jefferies Tubes, the Captain and I'll take the door. We go in twenty minutes exactly.

Six security guards disappeared on their missions.


There really was no contest, the Captain realised twenty-five minutes later, as she gazed around Engineering. Even if the six Destrons in Engineering had known they were coming they would have had no chance.

At nineteen minutes, Carver had had her sidling upto the main entrance into Engineering, on her side, her back firmly against the wall to avoid tripping the sensors, whilst he had slid along the opposite wall in similar fashion. As the twenty minute mark arrived, he tripped the door sensors making them open, then as they started to close they had both tossed magnesium flares into Engineering. At the same time a third had been dropped from an overhead vent at the back.

The resultant blinding flashes would have incapacitated everybody in the room no matter how prepared they had been.

Eight seconds later, Carver rose to his knees and had brought his phasor rifle up ready. The act tripped the door again and he fired at the first target he saw. A split second later the remaining three vent covers clattered to the ground and more phasor beams sprang out from the ceiling. If there had been anybody left to realise where the new deadly fire was coming from and had taken cover in one of the few remaining safe places, then they too would have been cut down as the covers to the Jefferies Tubes blew open to reveal another two security guards, who raked their weapons across those points of dubious cover. Before that fire had died away, Carver and the remaining guard had dived full length through the door, ready to pick off anybody left that was in a position to resist.

All in all the whole attack had lasted less than a minute and had resulted in six dead Destrons and a largely undamaged Engine Room for Chakotay and his small team of engineers as they pounded up the corridor.

Engineering secure, Ma'am, Carver announced happily in his best Colonel imitation voice and drawing himself up to attention in front of her.

She was almost certain he wanted to salute and broke into a smile at the thought. I'm impressed, she admitted. It was well done.

Carver beamed with pleasure. We can take the Bridge too, if you want, Captain? He offered. It is messier 'cos there are fewer places to attack from. But they don't know what's happened up there yet.

For a moment the Captain was tempted, buoyed by the ease Engineering had been taken and the enthusiasm of her junior officer and his team. Then the sight of a Destron with severe phasor burns made her wince and reminded her of who she was and what she was supposed to represent. If they were in the Colonel's army, she would undoubtedly have stormed the Bridge, with all the calm detachment her security team had displayed in Engineering. But Starfleet was peaceful and she had sworn to follow Starfleet philosophy. She could take her ship back from Engineering and without more bloodshed.

I'm not having anymore casualties. We take control from here, then offer terms, she decreed.

I doubt there is more than a skeleton crew, so they can't resist for long, she added. Sweep the ships for anybody left and put them in the Brig.

Aye, Captain, Carver responded. This time he did salute, then shuffled uncomfortably as he realised what he had done. Sorry, Captain. But the Colonel always does it! He stammered in embarrassment at the sudden burst of laughter that surrounded him.

I'll deal with him when I get him back, the Captain grinned. Now go and find some Destrons and the bomb.

She turned to the communicator. This is Captain Janeway to the Bridge. I have retaken control of this ship. I do not want to fight you. I want to offer terms for peace, she declared slowly.

We must finish our mission, the voice of Takart floated back.

My engineering crew will disarm the bomb. Without it you will not be able to complete your mission, the Captain rejoined firmly. I am coming up to the Bridge, alone and unarmed. We will talk peace.

There was no reply.

Is that wise, Kathryn? Chalotay whispered. What do we do if they take you hostage. We still don't know how many are up there!

Then all your problems are gone and you can let Carver have his head, Commander, she said drawled stiffly and headed for the door.

They seem to work from the Colonel's book, not Starfleets, she called over her shoulder as the door swished open for her. And it works.


The door of the turbo lift swished open on the Bridge and Captain Janeway closed her eyes, waiting for the searing heat of a phasor to hit her. For five seconds she stood like that, then cautiously opened them again when it did not happen.

There was only one occupant on the Bridge, Takart, and he was standing politely waiting for her.

Any attempt to disarm the device will force it to take control of the ship, he announced quietly. The crew were only here to ensure we avoided the Federation fleet. We are no longer necessary. The Federation Fleet has been destroyed.

So you want to destroy a defenceless planet? The Captain asked carefully, stepping forward.

They would build new ships eventually, as will we, Takart pointed out. Not that they will need them. They have acquired a vessel. I believe its mission is the same as ours.

Won't your fleet destroy it?

The Empire's fleet has been destroyed. This ship is all that is left, Takart admitted.

Show me, the Captain demanded. We can stop it. Then perhaps we can help you end your war?

There can be only one Destron, Takart snapped.

Perhaps that's the answer, the Captain declared, touching her communicator and taking her seat. Commander Chakotay, bring somebody up to fly the ship.

This is the ship, Takart observed, bringing up the view screen as the Captain had ordered whilst they waited for the crew to arrive. I observed it leave Federation space. It is on an opposite course to ours.

The Valoria! Captain Janeway exclaimed.

I doubt if she is under Federation control, she said confidently. Janeway to the Valoria, respond.

B'Elanna Paris, Captain. Is it safe to board? A worried B'Elanna's voice rang out.

We are in control, the Captain assured her. Your status?

One prisoner, a disarmed bomb and me.

Where are the others? The Captain demanded in alarm.

I had to leave the Colonel and Seven behind, Captain! He stopped to go back for Seven because she wouldn't move! The Destrons will execute them! There was a pleading note in B'Elanna's outburst.

I'll stop them! the Captain promised in her alarm. Come aboard and disarm the Trilithium bomb!


Joe Caerey swallowed nervously as he reached to cut the wire that he reckoned would deactivate the bomb in Cargo Bay 1. Weapons in general and bomb disposal in particular were not high in his list of proficient duties, nor, evidently, was it high in Lieutenant Chow's the ships torpedo specialist.

Together they had patiently gone over the device tracing and retracing the hair thin wires and traps with tri-corders, attempting to divine the bombs links, until they had both come to the conclusion that they were confused. Caerey had drawn the short straw to snip the one wire that looked promising, but it was as much guesswork as actual knowledge. He closed his eyes and started to squeeze the cutters.

If you cut that one we'll be going round in circles for days! B'Elanna Paris's voice scolded from behind.

Caerey had never heard anything so welcome as that reprimand. He pulled his arm clear and sank gratefully to the ground, his free arm wiping copious amounts of sweat from his forehead.

He looked up. And I suppose you have a better idea, Lieutenant?

B'Elanna grinned at him. Got the computer up? She asked.

Warily Caerey nodded.

Computer. Isolate all core sections related to Navigation, Propulsion, Guidance and Life Support, Security Paris Beta 9842, B'Elanna demanded.

Sectors Isolated, the computer responded.

Terminate isolated sectors.

Warning, Terminating core functions will affect safety functions!

Acknowledged. Isolated processes terminated.

Now you can cut the black and white wire and restart everything, B'Elanna offered.

It's like the one on Valoria, B'Elanna explained to the Captain, as Caerey turned to the task, grateful that he had at least found the right wire. It is programmed to get all its data from the ships computer. If it suddenly finds it doesn't know where it is, it doesn't know when to explode. It is too valuable to just explode anywhere, so it doesn't. Took me hours to work it out.

Now I have to go and get Seven of Nine, she turned for the door, but was stopped by the Captain.

We will go together. Just get my engines running, she said quietly. Now I want to talk to your prisoner and Trakart.


I think you have some more explaining to do, the Captain challenged the two Destrons in her Ready Room. She nodded at Trunak. You could be a clones. Everything you do is matched, even the bombs were identical.

Trakart sighed. I told you we were uniquely matched, Captain Janeway, he said. We are uniquely matched in other ways as well, the Federation home planet has a mass within 1000 tonnes of the Empires. We are too similar to be clones. It is why there can only be one Destron. But you will not believe the reasons.

Try me, the Captain drawled. You've heard what we've faced. You'd be amazed at what I can believe.

We were an advanced race from another galaxy, Trakart started slowly. Probably the greatest race in the Universe, with over 100,000 planets in our Empire. All ruled by the absolute decree of the Emperor. He looked at the Captain for some sort of recognition.

Go on, she said quietly.

The records claim that our galaxy was facing extinction. I do not know how, some stories say it was going to collide with another, others that it was going to be destroyed by a quantum phenomena of incalculable power.

Dangerous place, the Galaxy, the Captain agreed sympathetically.

So a vessel was built, with a crew numbered in tens of thousands and capable of sustaining itself for generations, Trakart continued. The mission, as laid down by the Emperor, was to create a colony in another galaxy, then establish more colonies. Making space as was required. Shortly after the ship broached the Galactic Barrier, the Destron Empire disappeared.

The Captain demanded.

Trakart repeated. There was no record of any event and a galaxy takes a long time to die. It left only the crew aboard the deep space exploration ship. He continued. Five hundred cycles ago we discovered a planet that was perfect for our needs and the re-founding of the Empire. A hundred cycles later we were strong enough to commence the second part of the plan. It was how we met the Federation.

So why start a war? Why not cooperate? The Captain demanded.

You still do not understand, Trakart sighed. The orders were to make space for the Empire. Those orders cannot be rescinded by anybody but the Emperor. The Federation, they will tell you, have the same orders from their Director, the same story and the same requirements. Any planet we took, they invaded and vice-a-versa. There is no choice.

That is true, Trunak admitted solemnly.

Trakart was right, there was a lot of things the Captain did not understand. The need for their war was only one. At least that had a simple, all encompassing, if illogical and un-diplomatic answer. The others were more far more difficult to balance. The similarity between the two Destrons, the equality of their technologies, the chances of two identical planets forming in close proximity. All defied an understandable explanation. Unless..

You are from parallel Universes! She gasped in sudden realisation, grasping the straw firmly in both hands.

Captain Janeway? Trakart queried.

Ensign Kim, report to my Ready Room, the Captain demanded quickly before she answered the questioning looks.

There are what we call Alternative Universes, where things are almost identical, she explained quickly. We've met one or two, so I know they exist. I try to ignore the theory of them because it is all tied with temporal mechanics. But your appearance, your technology, the planets you occupy are too similar to be natural in any single Universe. Somehow they have become entangled. The question is which is the one that shouldn't be here?

Harry, go to Astrometrics. Scan for temporal anomalies, the Captain demanded as Kim made his appearance through the door. I don't know where it is, or how big it is. But it is there. Then work out how to close a temporal anomaly.


Seven of Nine woke in slowly, taking stock of her condition before opening her eye's. There was no pain, in fact there was little feeling at all. Only the constant pressure on her wrists, ankles and back. That told her she was probably laying down and had been restrained.

Her Borg implants, already damaged, now refused to supply even the results of their limited diagnostic tests. That suggested they were now well below useful operating limits. It had been their failure that had permitted her recapture, she remembered. Although she had tried to run, the Cardascular and Vascular implants, meant to help control her physical movements and respiratory systems had failed to respond, leaving her staggering like a weak baby.

The simile made her think of her own developing infant.

Seven of Nine had learnt that during the later stages of pregnancy the child would start to move and start to 'Kick'. Ensign Samantha Wildman had enthusiastically agreed with the statement when she asked about the sensations to be expected, then had explained in great detail how Naomi Wildman had 'kicked like a donkey', until her kidneys, ribs and spine were so badly bruised she could barely stand.

Seven of Nine had been less than enthusiastic about this concept and had hoped her Borg enhanced baby would have the sense not to move. Now, incapable of applying any measuring devices, she found herself fervently wishing it would, just to prove it was still there.

Finally she risked opening her eyes.

The room she was in was not unlike of Voyager's sickbay, white walls, constant lighting and medical trolley. Unlike Voyager's sickbay it included just the one couch, the one she was secured to. Where her husband was she did not know. She knew he had caught her as she fell, it was a reasonable assumption that he had been captured as well. Silently she concentrated, trying to link to the small implant in the Colonel's neck. There was no response. Whether it was the fault of her own systems or the Colonels was unclear, that he might be dead was not an option. For nearly two years, if she wanted it, he was there, a constant comforting presence. Not that she needed it very often, but it was there, the knowledge itself was a comfort. Its absence, without even the crew of Voyager, left her feeling apprehensive.

She was not alone for long however. Scarcely had she completed her limited examination of her surrounds when three figures entered. The first, dressed in a black cloak, she recognised as Maka. The others, in a white cloaks, were new to her.

Their function quickly became apparent when they started to run a sensory devices over her.

Comments, Doctor? Maka demanded when the first white coat had finished.

The Doctor shrugged, Female, basically the same species as the human male and compatible, age about 32 cycles, approximately six months pregnant. Medically there is nothing wrong with her natural systems or the foetus, Admiral. I do not know about the mechanical apparatus. He looked questioningly at the second white coated Destron.

The devices are of advanced design, he admitted. But they are damaged.

Can they be repaired Yoraith? Maka demanded impatiently.

Yoraith ran a hand into his white hair and scratched. With some assistance from the subject we can repair most of the damage. Enough to make her functional, say 80%, Admiral.

Would the portable device complete repairs? Maka demanded,

Yoraith shook his head. It is not designed to do that. It merely maintains the mechanical systems. It would perhaps prevent them failing further?

And we can duplicate the systems?

Most of them, not to the same finesse or compact designs.

Very well. You may leave, Maka accepted.

Your barbaric mate killed three troopers, he said mildly to Seven of Nine as he sat on the edge of her couch. I am surprised that you could become attached to something that primitive, you are obviously more intelligent than he?

He is intelligent and adaptable, Seven of Nine declared coldly. The status of Colonel Samuels?

I think clever, not intelligent. He had me believing he wasn't a spy, Maka accepted. But now he will face the fate of saboteurs. He will be executed as soon as his wounds have been treated, probably tomorrow morning.

Colonel Samuels is not a saboteur! Seven of Nine snapped angrily.

He sabotaged our plans for destroying the Empire and your ship is still on course for Destron, Maka pointed out. Now our plans for you. Your implants are of great interest to us. We have many injured and crippled Destrons. We intend to repair your implants so that we may copy them. It will give us a tactical advantage. We will have more crews for our ships and soldiers to fight the enemy with.

Of course it will be a great advantage if you will assist and it means your baby will survive? He left the suggestion hanging.

It forced Seven of Nine to consider the implications for, what for her was, a long time.

Finally she sought clarification. If I agree, my offspring and I will be permitted to live as a captive, until the destruction of your race?

We will be victorious, using your technology, Maka disputed.

Your race shows no signs of being capable of victory, Seven of Nine spat back. My Borg technology will be insufficient. I will not permit my child to be a captive. I refuse to be treated.

Maka shrugged. Alive or dead we can use your technology, he observed. Dead takes a little longer as we will have to experiment more. You may change your mind. Tomorrow after you have seen the execution.

He got up and left. Leaving Seven of Nine to consider what good news she had learnt.

There was some, she reasoned. The Colonel and her baby were still alive and Voyager was on her way. It was not sufficient for a restful nights sleep, so she lay awake considering what she could do to prevent the execution, until Maka and two guards returned to take her to witness the spectacle.

There is a crowd gathering, Seven of Nine observed as, with Maka supporting her, they stepped onto a low balcony overlooking a courtyard.

Maka agreed. Executions are not common. They are reserved for traitors only. The people wish to see the person responsible for our failure to crush the Empire be punished.

You see those two posts, he continued, pointing to two vertical pillars in the centre of the yard. Your mate will be suspended between them for the execution. Death will be through a plasma discharge passing between the posts.

It will be quick, he offered apologetically as Seven of Nine gasped in horror.


The Colonel was woken up. Roughly, by the simple and primitive expedient of a bucket of water being thrown over him.

Get up, treacherous human scum! The gaoler's wake up call also left something to be desired. It is time.

Does that mean I get a decent breakfast? the Colonel gasped, shaking head and wiping his face with his bound hands. It is traditional along with last words and so on. It is supposed to make hanging quicker?

The Colonel and his burly jailer had not 'Hit it off' together. The latter had struck out at him with his ever present nightstick baton, claiming he had been slow when he had stumbled into this new, darkened cell the previous night. Then there had been more prods and blows from him during the night until wracked with pain the Colonel had passed out.

There is no breakfast, human, the gaoler assured him with an evil grin. It wastes time.

How about a drink?

You had that. It was required to wake you up.

Emptying the piss-pot over me? The Colonel asked sliding off the table that had formed his bed. I thought you were just being clumsy!

The response gained him a blow from the nightstick across his back and barely treated burns, forcing him to stagger forward. The gaoler reached for him again, grabbing his shirt to swing him around for another more telling blow.

Feeling his shirt being grabbed had the Colonel spinning, bringing his bound and clasped hands up to strike the heavy Destron in the neck below the ear sending him crashing to the floor. It was immediately matched with a heavy boot into the gaolers face.

Sadistic bastard, the Colonel spat. I hope you buggers are superstitious, because I'll be back for you.

Straightening himself up as well as he could he made for the cell door to be met by two more jailers, both with drawn batons.

Just given the Bell Boy his tip, the Colonel excused quickly. I can see myself out.

Tight-lipped they caught him by the arms and hauled him towards the exit.


That was how Seven of Nine saw the Colonel from her vantage point, bruised and bloodied, being half carried, half dragged between his two jailers. Her resolve broke.

The execution must be stopped, she demanded, turning to Maka. I will assist your engineers in creating Borg devices.

The offer was made for your life, not his, Maka declared.

From the corner of her eye Seven could see the two jailers secure the Colonel's hands to two heavy cables using manacles.

I can enhance your weapons technologies, Seven pleaded. It will give you a superior tactical advantage.

They were tightening the cables now, raising him off his feet.

Are you sure? Maka queried. I will hate to see you being placed between those posts because you lied?

I am incapable of lying! Seven of Nine snapped. The Colonel must be freed!

And if he tried to remove you from Destron? Maka asked.

I would prevent it.

I will see what I can do, Maka agreed turning away.

Do so, quickly. The Colonel was now a good 0.3 Metres above the ground and was being stretched painfully to prevent movement. Seven could see the grimace of pain on his face.


Any signs of them? The Captain demanded for the fourth time in twenty minutes.

Ensign Kala shook his head apologetically at her.

Kala's admission of failure was more symbolic of the fact that the force field over Destron was foiling Voyager scans, than any particular limits on her behalf, but it did not save her from the hostile and accusing glare. A symbol of the Captain's terror of the fate that had been foretold for her two missing crew members.

Find them! She snapped irritably. Tom take us closer. Through the Poly-morphic shield if you have to.

For two hours she had paced the Bridge as Engineering systematically brought Voyager and her systems back on-line. Then another four as Voyager struggled to reach Destron under reduced power. Her patience her patience had now all but snapped.

I've found the Colonel! Kala exploded as the Voyager bucketed into the outer atmosphere of Destron. Turn left to 183 degrees. I'm trying to lock on.

The Captain demanded anxiously.

Not yet, Captain. She won't be far away, Kala offered with a nervous grin. The light and hopeful comment earned her another glare from the Captain.

Don't beam him up until you find her, she said.

Kala commented nervously a few minutes later. I am detecting a massive energy build up near the Colonel. If it releases it will kill him.

Still looking, Kala agreed as the Captain headed for the turbo lift.


Seven of Nine was watching the events before her in horror. The Colonel had screamed and thrashed briefly when the pillars bearing him had started to glow as power was applied. He was still alive, she had seen his head move, but she knew what was about to happen and she was powerless to prevent it. When the power levels were high enough an arc would be established between the two and run up and down their lengths. Anything caught within it, such as the Colonel, would be vaporised in a brief but incredibly painful moment.

Maka had been gone for a full ten minutes and as nothing else had happened in the courtyard, she had hoped that he had managed to put a hold on the execution, at least temporarily. Now it looked as if it had been nothing more than a chance to increase the tension in the crowd. They were coo-ing appreciatively as the incandescence in the pillars increased.

An instant before the pillars sparked in a blinding pulse of light, she caught the blue haze of a transport in progress and collapsed in relief.

It was short lived relief.

Maka reappeared and grabbed her by the hair and pulling her to her feet, at the same time withdrawing his phasor. He screamed. You were attempting to delay the execution to allow an escape attempt!

The weapons discharge went wide as they both dematerialised.

Put the weapon down! The Captain demanded as Maka and Seven materialised in the Transporter Room, then she gaped in astonishment, the new Destron was identical to the one in the Brig. The moment of delay allowed Maka to throw Seven to the floor and spin to face the Captain, levelling his weapon with a cry of 'Traitors!. Ensign Carver, still trying to emulate his military instructor, fired and Maka fell beside his erstwhile victim.

Get Seven to the Sickbay I may need her. And when he's awake, she indicated the unconscious Destron. Bring him and Trakart to the Conference Room, the Captain hissed the order before turning away to make her way back to the Bridge and the Ready Room.


Three hours later the Captain faced the two Destrons and her senior officers in the Conference Room. Harry, What have you found? She asked quietly.

There are two anomalies, Kim reported. They form portals between universes, but are so big they interlink. We think they are about 18 light years across.

Anomalies that big aren't stable. We should have detected them. Why weren't they detected? Chakotay demanded.

I don't know, Kim admitted. We would have to ask Seven. But these portals are stable, the only indication found in the records was an increase in background interference.

Are you sure I can't persuade you to declare peace? The Captain demanded of the Destrons. Now you know the truth?

It is tempting, Trakart admitted. I would like to see the end of this eternal war and I can see how pointless it is. But there will always be conflict. Our needs and desires will always collide, Trakart admitted. If we made peace now, it will be broken in a few cycles.

Admiral Maka?

I am of like mind to Admiral Trakart, Maka admitted.

The Captain nodded. In Starfleet we try to end wars. We believe that cooperation yields more beneficial results than war, she declared. If I can't persuade you to call a truce. Perhaps we can stop you fighting. B'Elanna?

We think we can close the portals, B'Elanna announced. Harry and I have been going over the notes Doctor Harrington made for his 'time machine'. If we link the trilithium devices to a Harrington power concentrator we can create a temporal vortex. If it were detonated in the portal it will 'suck' the portal closed.

At least we think so, she added lamely.

If it doesn't then we destroy every planet in 60 light years, including yours, Kim observed.

It would mean the war would be over, the Maka observed thoughtfully. And there would only be one Destron left. I accept, Captain.

The Captain looked at Trakart.

I believe it is acceptable, Captain. It would also be for the best for your own Universe. If we were to become an alliance we would expand quickly. We are a warlike race.

How long do you need? The Captain queried thankfully.

Three days, if the Destrons help, B'Elanna volunteered.

Tom, plot a course to return our guests to their homes.


That's that! The Captain sighed in relief three days later, after the two Trilithium bombs flashed across the view screens and Kim pronounced the portals firmly closed. Tom put us back on course. If we didn't need that Dilithium before, we do now.

And at least three weeks repairs, Chakotay commented easily.

Can I invite you to dinner to night? He asked hopefully.

I have another engagement, the Captain declared stiffly. You will have to make do with Abbott.

Captain, report to Astro-Metrics, immediate, Seven of Nine's strident voice boomed from her intercom and allowed her to ignore the look of pain on Chakotay's voice.


I thought the Doctor told you to regenerate? The Captain demanded as she entered Astrometrics.

The Doctor has repaired the implants that received most damage, Seven declared stonily. I have made errors in the reconfiguration of the sensor systems, or I would have detected the Temporal Anomalies before the ship was placed in jeopardy. It is imperative I discover them, for the safety of the ship. Repairs to my remaining implants and extended regeneration will wait.

Okay, So you've found the error? The Captain softened in resignation. Seven was in single-minded mode. The only person who could get around that was the Colonel, then only when he was being as single-minded.

I have reviewed the scans Ensign Kim made to detect the anomalies, Seven of Nine said, ignoring the Captains question. The Trilithium devices Voyager detonated left a marked Tacion signature both in normal space and in subspace.

That's to be expected. Tacions are always released in Temporal events, the Captain agreed.

There was a similar signature in the region of the Portals before the devices were detonated. I believe that the portals were created by the Destrons, Seven responded simply.

The portals were not natural? The Captain exclaimed in horror. You think the Destrons will simply reopen them when they think they are strong enough?

Seven of Nine nodded. It is a possibility. When they have rediscovered the technology. To use the Colonel's terminology, 'They are stupid enough to do so'. I think they enjoyed the conflict. I have returned the sensor systems to their original specifications, until I have discovered the cause of my error.

There was a personal reason for postponing regeneration, Seven of Nine added softly.

Go on, the Captain prompted.

I believe I felt the baby 'kick' 4.2 hours ago, Seven reported, her voice hinting at wonder. I wish to experience it again to confirm the sensation. I will be incapable of doing so during regeneration.

If it is kicking already, then I think you will become fed up with it long before term, the Captain laughed at Seven's look of anticipation. Has Sam told you how Naomi kicked her? Kicked so hard she collapsed on my floor once, just as I was telling her to stop running errands for Neelix and rest. You should too.

I will regenerate, after I have tended to the Colonel, Seven accepted. He needs additional care. I have not been able to introduce additional Nano-probes to speed his recovery.


From his vantage point in the Continumn Dorran Q grunted. Partly in amusement. But mostly in annoyance, that his plans should be thwarted by such primitive creatures. There would have to be revenge, but first he would have to study the new specimens. He had time, he had an eternity and when that finished he could just go back and start again.




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