Chapter 12 – Carte Noire

"Voyager to Delta Flyer – if attacked, you are free to fire at will. Shoot to disable only, if possible. We don't need to another conflict."

The order could not have been clearer, or more welcome. Harry looked with a jaundiced eye at the small swarm of shuttlecraft that were rising from the planetoid's surface.

He didn't know their tactical capabilities, but he did figure that a bunch of civilian runabouts, even if run by ruthless criminals, were likely no match for the Delta Flyer and her seasoned crew. Up to a point, anyway, but to his jaded eye there weren't enough of them to reach that point. In fact, Harry found himself quietly amazed how far that point seemed to have receded over the years. Ensign no more, Harry, he silently congratulated himself, as he straightened his shoulders and got ready for battle.

"Evasive maneuvers, Pablo, but do try and put us behind two of them. Let's show them what the Flyer can do, scare them off maybe. Asil, make sure they have no nasty surprises aboard those things."

Asil had been around humans enough to interpret this last statement as an order to scan the alien vessels for potentially dangerous energy signatures.

"Negative, sir," she announced. "Conventional armaments only, mostly of Ferengi design."

"Target approaching, sir," Baytart announced from the helm. "Shields are up."

"Let them fire first."

That order hurt, but Harry knew he had to give it in order to be able to claim self-defense. Diplomatic niceties … and how had Tom put it? Plausible deniability? Fortunately, his opponents obliged quickly, and ineffectively.

"Free for all," he muttered to himself barely concealing an eager grin. Lieutenant Commander Harry Kim, First Officer of the USS Voyager, in his first solo fire fight. Good thing his mother wasn't aware of what he was doing – she would doubtless send Tom Paris a nasty comm.

Harry tapped a few commands into the console, and a sudden flame bloomed in the stern of one of the two vessels within range. A second burst exploded closely enough to the small runabout to toss it sideways, like a leaf in the wind.

Two nearly simultaneous explosions rocked the Flyer; two of the shuttles were coming in from the side., obviously slightly more competent than the first two.

"Shields?"

"Holding at eighty-five percent," Asil's voice was clipped and clear.

"Second run, sir?" Baytart asked, sounding hopeful.

"By all means," Harry responded grimly. As far as he was concerned the more of these vessels they incapacitated, the less efficient the illicit operations on the planetoid would be. Self-defence was a good and honourable thing, but made even better if you could use it for a spot of retaliation or to impart a lesson.

One more successful shot, and the remaining three ships peeled off and headed back to the Midas surface. That was easy, Harry thought, only a little smug.

"We're being hailed, Commander," Asil announced. She put the caller on screen without being asked.

To no one's surprise, a Ferengi visage filled the view. Daimon Kol; Harry recognized the voice from when Tom had patched him into the conversation earlier.

"Federation vessel. We will hold you responsible for any damage …"

"You sent six ships after us, Daimon, with the express goal of taking mine. Your ships fired first. Feel free to register your complaint with Federation authorities. But I suggest you just write your losses off against whatever profits you made on that planetoid."

He made a quick slashing motion against his throat, which Asil correctly interpreted as instruction to cut off the feed. Harry smiled, pleased with himself. Any further diplomatic fallout from the Flyer's recce and this little confrontation was above his pay grade; besides, there was no need to waste time with something the Ferengi had already raised with Tom. He nodded to Baytart.

"Take us back to Voyager, Pablo. Mission accomplished, I think."

…..

With the additional information transmitted by the Flyer, the questions that could be put to Alqil and Pakoth, respectively, had the luxury of being quite pointed. Tom decided they wouldn't bother with Farqoth again, given Janeway's report of her discussion with him. There wasn't much to be gained from listening to the irrational rantings of a fanatic who was at best a bit player in this game.

But Tom most certainly did want to hear about those who had made it possible for that bit player to get into a position where he and his ilk could do the damage they had. The sad and quiet little girl who temporarily shared his daughter's room demanded no less.

Alqil's interrogation was a breeze, as far as Tom was concerned, assisted greatly by the man's respectful deference to Marshall Talith. Or maybe it was the icy way in which she had put him to a very simple choice at the beginning: he could make his future court martial significantly easier if he provided details of how Farqoth and his cohorts had gotten their hands on weapons marked for disposal, or … harder.

Tom's ears pricked up at that, but he was assured that in the context of the Talari justice system - where treason was dealt with by the military regardless of the accused's status – did not mean torture. With some indignation, Talith explained that her people, unlike their Denarian enemies, may be a little prone to summary and public execution, but they were not torturers. Treason could be punishable by death - or not, depending on the level of cooperation an accused was willing to provide. In the event, Alqil chose life, and sang like a bird.

Apparently, Naldar's desire to pursue a peace agreement with the Denarians – which had been communicated by him to his inner circle suddenly, just after Kyven – had not sat well with many of them. The only of his advisers who seemed to be aware of his plans were his deputy, back on Talar, and a couple of senior intelligence officials. No one else knew what the information had been that might have caused the Supreme Talon to change course just when Talar seemed to have the advantage, and dissent was rife. It was obviously very closely held, for some reason, and the cessation of hostilities therefore deemed to be neither credible nor justified.

But unseating the Supreme Talon before his term was not in the Talari tradition, and the discontent brewed without an adequate outlet. That is, until an alien trader offered to act as a go-between with certain other malcontent factions in the Outer Rim, who could take action considered unacceptable on the home world. The assumption was that if those factions were to be successful in undermining the peace discussions, and the conflict with Denaros to roar back to full-out war, then Naldar would have little choice but to go along.

The alien trader – a humanoid with pronounced cheekbones, a Rigellian based on holo images shown to Alqil – demanded relatively little by way of compensation for his brokering activities: Talari vessels were asked to overlook certain activities on the resource-rich planetoid. This was easily done, since Naldar had already ordered a cessation of expeditionary activities in the area so as not to prejudice his precious peace talks. And if the Supreme Talon changed his mind, orders could easily be adjusted without his knowledge.

And yes, Alqil was prepared to provide Marshall Talith with a list of names of others involved in the little conspiracy. This included the other civilian member of the Talari delegation, whom Tom immediately ordered to be put under 24/7 guard. Talith readily pointed out to Tom, in Alqil's hearing, that those others would not be subject to the same … leniency considerations when it came to sentencing as he had been.

This information did not appear to deter Alqil, who seemed sanguine about exposing his fellow conspirators to a fate he himself had escaped. He became almost animated, though, when he was reminded that his little deal in favour of the Children of Talasar had almost cost him his own life. Yes, that had not exactly been planned. Or foreseen. And it was clear that he resented the group's actions with all the righteous indignation of someone blindsided by his own lack of foresight.

"Was that why you tried to kill them? Punishment?"

It had been pretty clear from the holovid recordings that Alqil had expected both the Childrens' operatives to be in the brig when he had come to deal with them; the audio relating to his brief hesitation and questions to Farqoth's sidekick had been reconstructed by Voyager's skilled ops staff as a question relating to his whereabouts, followed by a curse. Yes, foresight and planning were not a Talari strength, Tom surmised; neither was the necessary intellectual flexibility to change a pre-set course of action. I would have just left …

"Or did you murder him to keep him from exposing your cozy little arrangement with the Ferengi and the Syndicate? Hoping that, somehow, you could get to Farqoth later?"

Obviously, the death penalty for treason, for a man as keen on self-preservation as Alqil seemed to be, was a powerful incentive for murder. Especially if he thought it might come with diplomatic immunity.

But by now, Alqil clearly felt that he had talked enough, and was starting to clam up. It was one thing to incriminate other people and expose a political conspiracy – quite another to go into details about matters relating to personal culpability.

Not one to waste time, Tom decided to wrap things up and gestured to the security officers to take Alqil back to the brig, where the number of guards had been doubled and reinforced by personnel in the corridor outside.

"Well, that was enlightening," he couldn't refrain from commenting to Talith as they left the brig.

"You go uncork a bottle of fanaticism, and you never know what you get once the genies come flying out."

When she looked at him in slight bewilderment at the unfamiliar metaphor, he elaborated:

"Some of the longest-lasting wars in my planet's history were caused by ignorant political hacks, wanting to influence world events by making sweetheart deals with armed thugs, without an actual clue about who they were dealing with and what those people would do with the stuff they were given – whether it was money, weapons, or power. Or that the thugs would stop listening, once they became self-sustaining, if not earlier. Happened again and again. Those politicians never seem to learn. Still haven't, far as I can tell."

He sighed. "Last time, they made such a deal with the Cardassians. That went real well. Ask my wife about it sometime."

…..

Pakoth was a bit more of a challenge. He refused to talk until Mike Ayala, who had undertaken that interrogation given that Tom might not be considered sufficiently objective, thought to reassure him that he had nothing to fear from Marshall Qorath. In fact, the former Maquis – never shy about improvising – convinced the good Major that since his primary offence had been committed against Federation property and personnel, including his own rather formidable but not murderously inclined Captain, he would likely never set foot on Denaros again and would remain in protective custody until such time as someone figured out what to do with him.

Loyalty, it turned out, was a fickle mistress, and no competition at all for good, old-fashioned anger, once Pakoth was reassured of his personal wellbeing. Unleashed, he made no secret of his antipathy for his thuggish and unpleasant superior. A superior who had ordered him onboard the Flyer, exposing him to potential death at the hands of the Children of Talasar; and had ordered him to stop any potential investigation of activities on Midas on pain of death – all without any tactical instructions, a plan or tools, and with only his limited wits as a weapon.

The unlocked rifle locker had at first appeared to be a stroke of good fortune, but Pakoth admitted that he wasn't all that sorry that things hadn't worked out, since he had no clue what he'd have done had the Flyer's occupants actually surrendered. Maybe he'd have killed Talith, just because it would bring him a certain fame back home, but other than that he had been rather short of ideas.

Ayala brought him back on track by asking how long he had been aware of the mining operations on Midas. Quite some time, as it turned out. Apparently, the same alien trader who had insinuated himself into the backrooms of Talari power – or another of his race – had approached the Denarian military leadership just before the attack on Kyven. Although this time, the Rigellian – likely an Orion operative given the Syndicate's greater capacity for subtlety, compared to the Ferengi - had extracted the commitment not to interfere not in exchange for aiding a political cause. No, the promise had been given for the most simple thing of all: a cut of the profits.

The majority of the spoils went to Qorath himself, of course. The remainder was shared among those of his minions, like Pakoth, who were engaged in the deployment of Denarian ships that might interfere with the operations. The fact that allowing such operations could extend a war his civilian leadership was trying to end, and lead to more deaths on both sides, had not bothered Qorath in the least, according to Pakoth - quite the contrary. Without a conflict, the Marshall's power and influence would wane instantly. This way, at the very least, he would be set up nicely for an unwanted retirement. Continued war or a lucrative peace - a win-win situation, really, every way Qorath would look at it.

And no, Pakoth did not think that anyone on Denaros had known about the Children of Talasar, let alone Talari assistance to those same operators. Nor had he personally done the obvious calculation: that by playing both sides to the conflict, the alien traders had created a safe space for themselves in which to skim off untold profits from the very thing Denaros was fighting for. He could see it now, of course, but didn't think even that would have particularly bothered his boss. As long as his cut stayed the same.

Ayala shook his head when he briefed Tom on what he had learned, his large hands balled into fists that he barely managed to stop from slamming into the desk. His dark eyes were smoldering coals, seeing something very far away.

"You'd think I'd have learned from the Cardassian war that money is the most reliable fuel for conflict. Every one of the dilithium crystals the Ferengi and their Orion associates haul out of the ground on Midas is covered in blood, Tom. Every last one. And they just dig 'em up, transport 'em, and sell 'em. And nobody gives a shit, as long as they get rich."

"Yeah. I know, Mike."

What was there to say, really? Utopia was a long way away. Tom clapped the big security officer on the shoulder.

"Let's make sure that whatever Janeway comes up with by way of a plan for these people will put a stop to it here, at least."

…..

It was clear from the outset that the meeting Janeway had called for the late afternoon would be configured somewhat differently than previous ones. With two of the Talari civilian aides, Qorath and his subordinate variously in the brig and under house arrest, the pool of available peace negotiators had shrunk to almost manageable proportions. Just having the Denarian Marshall out of the room was worth several kilometers worth of her nerve strands, she figured, and would bring down the mandatory posturing by a significant percentage.

She headed for the holodeck flanked by Tom, who had provided the essential details of the interrogations in his ready room, and Asil, who carried the small projector Janeway herself had used for her initial briefing of Voyager's senior staff. Harry and Icheb trailed a few steps behind. All five Starfleet officers looked grim, but determined.

Janeway was dying to get on with the substance of her meeting, but she also knew that there would be a bit of theatre to go through first. The fallout from putting a good portion of two diplomatic delegations under arrest could be good for as much as an hour, and she had entreated Tom to be patient …

"… and keep my big mouth shut?" He twinkled at her a little, taking advantage of the only ray of humour either of them had been able to find in the day.

"Yes, Captain. That would be good. Even if it is a lot to ask of you."

He smirked at her, but wisely kept his promise to the possible.

"I'll try, Admiral. I'll try."

Before either of the delegations could complain, Kathryn announced peremptorily that the disproportionate number of Starfleet personnel in the room was necessary for the main agenda item. She refused to elaborate. All would become clear in due course.

After only a token protest about the number of grey uniforms, Naldar was good for the opening salvo, albeit one that was unusually muted - a clear signal that he was just going through the motions.

"Alqil is a Talari national and as such is not subject to Federation law. Regardless of what he is accused of doing, which is in any event undoubtedly the work of Denarian perfidy, I require his release to my custody."

Kathryn took a deep breath and gave her well-rehearsed reply, keeping her pronunciation very clear in order to ensure that the universal translator couldn't mess up.

"This is a diplomatic mission, covered by the customary law of interplanetary relations. You agreed to its application when you asked the Federation to mediate these negotiations. It says that in the absence of a written agreement to the contrary, the immunity of foreign envoys is limited to actions done in the exercise of their official duties. You will agree that murdering fellow nationals or a member of Starfleet, and attacking others, is hardly an exercise of any delegate's official duties."

For good measure, she raised an eyebrow, upped the voltage of her glare, and added, "Unless you would like to argue that they were ordered to commit these acts in pursuit of a diplomatic objective?"

Kathryn made eye contact with both the Supreme Talon and President Karon, who had the good grace to shake their heads vigorously at such an offensive suggestion – in near unison at that. Satisfied, she concluded, "Whether or not Mr. Alqil or Major Pakoth will be returned to their home planets to stand trial will be for the Federation's and your respective court authorities to sort out."

Kathryn Janeway was clearly the expert on diplomatic privileges and immunities, but Tom Paris was Starfleet's undisputed – if blessedly uncrowned - King of Arrest and Detention. Besides, one of the delegates in question had been captured on a vid murdering a member of his crew, while the other had waved a compression rifle in his face. And so he felt perfectly justified to add his two slivers of latinum worth; promises only went that far, after all.

"An agreement that will be made a lot easier if we keep them safe and secure in the meantime. In my brig."

Kathryn cast him a quick look, not so much because she was put out by his intervention – with which she agreed – but to see whether he was joking. My brig? But Tom seemed quite serious, and she concluded that he was simply referring to the fact that the suspects' current place of detention happened to be on his ship. She picked up the thread again.

"As for the other two, you will note that they are merely under house arrest, since the offences they are alleged to have committed do not affect the Federation. In the meantime, though, I find them unacceptable as participants in these negotiations. And it is within Captain Paris' discretion to decide what to do with non-Federation personnel onboard his ship. Apparently, he has decided on house arrest. I have no say in this matter."

Fortunately, formalities having been observed and all the necessary things said, neither Karon nor Naldar seemed intent on pursuing the matter further, and Tom was spared having to defend his detention orders. In fact, Karon seemed positively euphoric at the absence of his brutish military adviser.

"You may rest assured that Marshall Qorath will be held responsible for Major Pakoth's conduct on Denaros," he advised, somewhat unnecessarily and with almost unseemly glee.

Tom exchanged a quick glance with Kathryn; if they had suspected a division between the civilian and military members of the Denarian delegation before, this pretty well sealed it, as far as he was concerned. The next hour or so would tell them just where the Talari stood in this regard.

"Now, the real reason I have called you here."

Kathryn nodded to Asil, who flicked on the holo projector she had quietly and unhurriedly set up during the preliminary round.

The model of the binary system and the two worlds' respective colonies that Janeway had used earlier filled the centre between the conference tables. Both Presidents blinked at the casual display of superior technology, but said nothing. Talith, whose mind seemed to be perpetually on 'record' when it came to Starfleet technology, took in a hissing breath as she assessed the projector's potential utility for tactical planning.

"Denaros and Talar. The disputed planetoid." Kathryn pointed as she spoke. "The outer colonies."

She paused, making sure she had their attention. Naldar's left eye twitched a little as he stared at the projection.

"And this. The Antarean subspace anomaly, as it first appeared approximately five years ago."

Off to the edge of the projection, a ways away from Talaros and the two Talari colonies at the outer rim, a smudge appeared.

"The anomaly, as it appears today." Asil entered a couple of commands, and the smudge expanded to something resembling a pulsating, glowing fog with a dark, but discernible centre.

"And now, as we project it to look in three standard years, based on observations by Voyager's science officers and data transmitted by the Gettysburg before its destruction. In five years. Ten. Twenty. Twenty-five."

With each figure Janeway uttered, Asil entered her modeling data, and the anomaly was seen to grow, swallowing more and more of the Antarean sector. Talaros was engulfed just past the five-year mark. Factoring in their respective orbits, Midas ceased to be visible between eight and nine years, and Talar itself at around fifteen. By the twenty-two-year mark – having escaped an earlier doom as a result of its own orbit around the binary suns - Denaros was staring at oblivion, with its own outer colonies only a few years behind.

Karon shifted uncomfortably in his chair, while his remaining assistant gasped in bewildered terror.

"What happens when this … thing comes close to an inhabited world?" he asked, his voice almost breathless.

Having anticipated the question, Asil replied with her usual imperturbability.

"The anomaly causes plasma storms and gravimetric shears of a magnitude that will make life unsustainable on any planetary surface. The seismic shocks preceding the arrival of its core alone will be of a magnitude not measured by ordinary instrumentation."

Tom swallowed a little; he had heard all this during Asil's and Icheb's earlier brief to Janeway, of course, but seeing the modeled projection drove the point home far more dramatically than words ever could. His own earlier angry, slightly flippant words to Janeway echoed in his mind: what they were staring at did indeed turn such concepts as war, defeat or victory into an irrelevant afterthought. All that remained was for those in a position to do so to grab whatever they could and get the hell out of the sector.

Neither Karon and Naldar could tear their reluctant eyes off what they were seeing, but it was Talith's reaction that changed everything, yet again.

Her eyes blazing with a cold fury, she was visibly restraining herself from grabbing Naldar by the throat. Her voice was a laser-sharp knife as it cut the room, and she snarled two words:

"You knew."

And just like that, Kathryn Janeway's own suspicion was confirmed. Naldar shrank into his chair even as Karon cast a frowning look from one to the other, understanding blooming on his face as Talith continued.

"When you ordered my ships to raid Denaros and destroy Kyven, you knew that this war was already effectively over."

Naldar raised both hands in reflexive defence, as if to ward off a physical attack, and responded – not as hotly as one might have expected, but nonetheless with a measure of righteousness that send a shiver down Kathryn's spine.

"We needed to end the conflict so that our two worlds could cooperate in finding a way to avoid destruction. Our intelligence services indicated that there are scientists on Denaros who drew similar conclusions to those we have just been shown, and had been working on potential solutions. I tried to open informal channels for discussion, but … Denaros was closed to us. They would not listen, and they left me no choice."

Karon said nothing, wearing what Tom's previous Captain, Will Riker, would call a perfect poker face. Had he known about the incipient catastrophe? Had he been told about it by his scientists, and written off their projections as alarmist fantasy? Tom was almost certain but his focus was on Talith, who had risen in her seat, death in her eyes.

"You knew, Talon. And you thought it would be better to have us commit mass murder in the name of Talar, than to tell the truth publicly and force Denaros to the table? What was Kyven to you – a mere stepping stone, to gain you a few points at the negotiating table?"

Her fury was palpable, and her hand reached for the side arm she would normally be wearing. Naldar shrank back a little, but uttered not a single word. No denials, but no more explanations, either. He glared defiantly at Karon, who had remained silent.

With a few quick strides Tom was by Talith's side, reaching his long arms around her shoulders, gripping them, pulling her to him. She was strong and fought against his hold, but he had the advantage of his superior height and weight. He could feel the vibrations of uncontrollable rage surging through her body as she struggled to break free - the body of a woman he could not have borne to touch a few days earlier - and held her tight, lest she give in to the urge her twitching fingers betrayed most clearly. There had been too many deaths onboard his ship already.

At last, she relaxed, even seemed to lean into him a little, her head grazing his shoulder as she looked to the ceiling. And it was only Tom who heard her whisper, "I have killed millions for the sake of my world. Millions. Will somebody just tell me why?"

He had no answer, but eventually she gave a shuddering breath and he knew to let go.

Slowly, Talith took her seat again, beside the Supreme Talon whom she had been ready to kill only moments earlier. She still had a duty to perform. A duty to her people, if not to the man whose robes announced to the world that he spoke on their behalf.

...

Janeway cleared her throat, casting Tom a grateful look for defusing a potentially charged moment.

"We are not here to exchange recriminations," she said. "We are here to deal with facts. And the fact is, Denaros and Talar both face an enemy that is far more dangerous than any extremist political faction, or even a conspiracy to profit from extending the conflict. An enemy that they need to fear far more than even each other."

She stressed that last particularly, glaring at Karon and Naldar in turn, lest they miss her point.

"Karon," she snapped. "I understand there has been research done on your planet that confirms Asil's findings?"

He nodded, slowly, as if the admission was a painful one, and hastened to add, "But it was widely discredited as unsubstantiated and geared to induce panic. In fact …" now it was his turn to clear his throat, "some of the proponents of this … theory were incarcerated. They were believed to be working for the Talari Government, and seeking to instill panic in the civilian population."

Tom almost had to bite his tongue to hold it at this disingenuous use of the passive voice. He looked to Janeway for confirmation that she had caught the same thing; she had. The research was discredited? The scientists were incarcerated? By whom, and on whose orders?

How many more times would inconvenient science be repressed, discredited or otherwise swept under the rug, in the name of political expediency and mindless efforts at appeasement? The history of Earth was full of such examples, from the defenders of geo-centrism to those who chose to ignore the perils of climate change.

It was also now perfectly clear why those Talari attempts at dialogue – whether half-hearted or genuine was really irrelevant - had failed.

Janeway too bit back any number of comments she might have made, but could not suppress one from escaping.

"Did your scientists … including those that were jailed … happen to come up with any ideas for how to resolve the problem? Naldar seems to think there might have been something."

Karon had the good grace to look chastised as his poker face slipped a little. His eyes flickered from the throbbing image of the world-eating phenomenon in the middle of the room to Janeway, Naldar and back. As was his wont, he studiously ignored Talith as if she were not present.

"I was given a report that … claimed that a major explosion, if carried out at the right frequencies, could perhaps reverse the process."

He sounded increasingly defensive as he added, "I am not a scientist and don't understand why this should be so. Needless to say, he was not speaking for the Denarian Academy of Sciences and the report was written off by its council as entirely fanciful. As fanciful and dangerous as the reports that suggested Denaros may be in danger from this anomaly."

By the end of this statement Karon knew he had convinced no one – including himself.

Ignoring him for now, Janeway took Naldar's measure across the room. Just how much information had his intelligence officers discovered? She watched him swallow, and knew that this was a report he had, in fact, seen. How it had come to him might never be known. One of the scientists, most likely – desperate for some kind of action.

And unlike Karon, Naldar had acted. She revised her opinion of the Supreme Talon, instantly and irrevocably.

A man of pompous habits but shrewd instincts, including first and foremost in respect of his own political survival, he had nonetheless followed up on reports that a danger far greater than war threatened the survival of his people. Likely aware that matters of cosmic proportions were incomprehensible to a public more interested in rehearsing well-known grievances, or finding distraction in the utterly irrelevant, he had set into motion what he likely thought to be the only course of action available: To make peace with Denaros, so he could seek cooperation with its scientists and avert an inevitable catastrophe for both worlds.

But at what price? To bring Denaros to the table, he had unleashed hell, using Talith and her forces to deliver the few for the many … But how many were 'few' when you murder a continent?

It was certainly clear to Janeway now why Talar had stopped with the attack on Kyven, even though it could have obliterated its rival. Naldar did need Denaros – and, it suddenly occurred to her, he might also have thought that he would need to preserve the remainder of his arsenal – to defeat the more powerful enemy.

And as the final part of his calculations, Naldar had counted on the Federation to make happen for him what direct efforts had failed to achieve - all without once tipping his hand to anyone except, Kathryn suspected, a very small number of his inner circle. In the meantime, Karon for his part was guilty of deliberate, willful blindness – allowing the habit of war to obscure a vision of a future in which both worlds were doomed, and refusing early peace overtures that might have saved a third of his people in the short term, and all of them in the long.

What was it with politicians …?

Kathryn turned from one to the other leader with a grim expression, but it was at Talith that her words were aimed.

"Yes, Marshall, it appears that Supreme Talon Naldar believed the reports he had seen were true. It is to his credit that he did so, although his strategy had horrifying consequences. Including for you."

She paused, and set her sights on Karon, who shifted nervously in the crosshairs.

"President Karon as well has much to answer for, first and foremost for his unwillingness to listen when words would still have been enough. But as I said before, now is not the time for recriminations. What we need is solutions. I am open to any and all ideas."

…

Harry and Icheb straightened at Janeway's unspoken invitation. They had remained silent throughout the meeting so far, keenly aware that they were not sufficiently immersed in the status of the peace negotiations to pick up on any of the eddies and undercurrents around the table. Harry still looked a little shell-shocked at the enormity of what he had heard, but rallied quickly.

All three, Harry, Icheb and Asil, had information and opinions about the anomaly that they were only too willing to share.

Prompted by Janeway's nod, Harry proceeded to give a quick run-down on the physics of subspace anomalies in general, and the specific properties of the Antarean specimen such as they had been able to divine in the short time he, Asil and Icheb had spent studying it. The data from the Gettysburg had helped.

"This phenomenon is, essentially, an opening into a different layer of space. We call it a subspace anomaly, but that's just shorthand for many different ways in which our space can connect with, and at times be pierced by, other dimensions. The core of this one is basically a hole, a tear in the fabric that separates those dimensions. And that other … dimension is gradually seeping into ours, consuming it. We don't know whether it will eventually stop on its own, but we must assume it won't."

Icheb jumped in at this stage, eagerly, his usually earnest, still often almost drone-like voice conveying his scientist's excitement at a new discovery.

"Voyager encountered a similar phenomenon when Species 8472 attempted to allow fluidic space to consume our own. This phenomenon essentially folds space inside out, generating considerable energy forces in the process. But I believe that the Denarian researchers were correct when they surmised that a targeted and substantial energy blast could cause the anomaly to collapse, and the rift to close."

The scientist in Janeway carried out a brief battle with the diplomat; it was no contest. She had to ask.

"Could the energy released by a number of fully functional Scourge weapons provide that effect?"

Asil chimed in. "That is highly questionable. The explosion must be carefully contained, Admiral, in order to create sufficient inward pressure to generate a singularity that could, in turn, implode the anomaly's core. The Scourge operates by dissipating the energy it creates. The weapons are not designed to create a singularity."

Tom perked up at this. He had been focusing on Talith, and her barely controlled fury at the role she had unwittingly played in Naldar's ill-conceived plan. But it was her words that echoed in his head now.

"Did you say it needs to be contained, Asil, in order to create a singularity?"

The Vulcan nodded dispassionately, her voice clinical. "Indeed, Captain. What is required is a targeted implosion, rather than an explosion."

"Right." Tom turned to Talith. "Didn't you tell us that your forces used something to stabilize the scourge, keep it from going off at the wrong time? What was that again?"

Talith responded as if awakening, briefly, from a trance. She was no scientist, but she did know the weapon she had used to secure Denaros' presence at the peace table.

"Benomite crystals."

"Benomite crystals?" Icheb had been onboard the Flyer when Talith had mentioned their use by the Talari to Tom, but not heard her comment. His mind was already latching on to the new information.

"Yes. There are two molecular structures that are not affected by the Scourge. Water - and benomite. The weapon's effects can cross water, but they cannot go through it, and nothing underwater is affected by them. But the structure of benomite actually restrains the explosion. The weapons' builders regularly used it to limit exposure in test explosions, and individual armaments are transported in casings lined with benomite crystals."

"Could the benomite constrain multiple explosions to such an extent that they would be turned in on itself?" Harry had followed the discussion with keen interest. Talith shrugged.

"We never tried that. We had no reason to. We tested only a small number of individual weapons. They are … not easy to produce."

Asil took the thread now, and ran with it.

"Based on our observation of the weapon's effects, it is certainly conceivable that a sufficient number of them under those circumstances could trigger a chain reaction that in turn could produce the required singularity."

Janeway nodded at Icheb, who promptly started furiously entering data into his PADD, with Asil looking over his shoulders and making suggestions. Within seconds, both were oblivious to their surroundings.

"Thanks, Ensign, Lieutenant - let us know what your calculations yield. In the meantime, we need to turn our minds to a large-scale source of benomite."

Her crooked not-quite smile encompassed both Tom and Harry.

"Can either of you think of such a place, gentlemen?"

NOTE: When a fencer – or a coach, or (more rarely) a spectator – commits an infraction against honour and sportsmanship so severe that their continued presence at the tournament is considered undesirable, they get shown a black card by the referee: the 'carte noire' in the chapter heading. Usually this is preceded by one or more warnings (yellow and/or red cards), but not necessarily.

Needless to say, when this happens – especially when it is done to a medal hopeful with both behavioural issues, a good management team and an influential country's fencing association willing to back them up for the sake of a perceived greater glory - all hell breaks loose, and the expulsion order is followed by appeals and endless discussions, with the judge often left dangling in the wind. But if it is permitted to stick, the games are over for that competitor.

Chances are that there will be no black cards issued at the forthcoming London Olympics. There is too much at stake to worry about what constitutes appropriate conduct.