Bashir jerked forward, muscles automatically tense as a pair of rough hands pushed him back against the storeroom wall. Every fleck of pigment was distinctly visible in the eyes of Cadmus' large companion as he pinned Bashir with a warning stare.

He spoke with a low, rasping voice - growling wetly as though his throat had never quite accustomed itself to the production of audible words.

"Not you."

Hilary Larkin slumped into the corner like a puppet whose strings had been cut. She clutched one side of her belly with her face twisted in a moment of sharp agony. Inky stains of reddish purple already marked her lips and the lids of her eyes. From somewhere behind the heavy thug, Riley drew a sharp inward breath as though preparing to speak. To protest? Julian wondered. But the momentary expression of disbelief on his face had vanished as quickly as it arose.

"What have you done?" Bashir accused.

Cadmus regarded him with a calculating scowl. His response was soft, but dangerously clear. "What? You want to be next?"

"Julian," What little Doctor Larkin could gather of her voice now came out as a barely audible wheeze. "Please. Don't try to be a hero."

She winced, and fell back against the wall with rapid, shuddering breaths. "You're only here because of me," Bashir insisted. Less than a day ago, his life had been the one so precariously balanced. "At least allow me to…"

But Hilary Larkin shook her head. "No… Not this time, Julian. It's not up to us…."

Larkin was a doctor. She would have known as well as he what the loss of so much blood would mean. She was quiet and still, her skin had already turned bone-pale, and with the same hand pressed against the broken flesh just above her hip. Secretly, Bashir was impressed by the woman's stamina.

But she won't be able to keep that up for much longer, he thought - anxiety pressing on his stomach like the metal clamps of a vice. Most others in her position would have lost consciousness by now.

There was no sign of a reaction in Lauren's large blue eyes as she watched the scene with quiet attention. But Jack glanced repeatedly at the whining circuit board. His face betrayed an occasional sly and covert smile, the muscles of his neck twitching in what may have been a voiceless chuckle.

There's nothing to laugh about. Julian scowled, longing to give voice to the flash of hot anger in his eyes. Patrick was whimpering softly to himself, but his sub-vocal keening only seemed to have amused Jack even more.

Why couldn't he have just shut up? cursed Julian in silence, but with an additional admonition. Why couldn't I?

The same steady mechanical whine had intensified as if in mounting anticipation. "Er…" Riley shifted back a step until he was once more staring at the communications panel. "Cadmus?"

"What?" the other man snapped.

His companion pointed to the blinking light upon the console. "That Security officer," he explained, a little reticently. "The one from before. I think he wants to talk to us again."

"Is there no way of shutting that stupid thing off?" Cadmus snapped.

"I don't think so," said Riley. But he held his next breath as both hands worked the controls, and glanced anxiously at Doctor Larkin as soon as he was done.

"Cadmus?" Naron's remote voice interrupted whatever response was forthcoming. "Night will come soon. Are you prepared to engage in further discourse?"

"Further discourse?" Cadmus mocked. But the first speaker was unperturbed.

"Might I at least be assured that your prisoners are well? It has been some time since last we spoke."

"I can assure you that they're not," retorted Cadmus.

A long, apprehensive silence followed his reply, but the eventual response was hopeful, if anxious. "If that is so, can we not provide assistance? Send out your wounded. You have my word that we will do nothing to harm either your or your men."

"What do you take me for?" was the Human's immediate reaction. "No-one's going anywhere until we've done what we came here to do."

"Then is there nothing we can offer in exchange?" continued Naron.

"You're decades too late for anything like that!" his contact sneered. "Don't you get it? We're here to undo some of the damage your people caused."

Severing the communication with a single-fingered stab, he glared at his four remaining hostages. "I guess he still thinks we're after Latinum or something," he sneered. "We'll have to show him different, then. All of you, on your feet."

"Wait," insisted Riley. "If he's ready enough to work something out with us, perhaps we should…"

The leader turned on him. "Our contact expects a certain outcome from us, Brian. You knew that from the moment you signed up for this. What did you think was going to happen?"

He pointed the muzzle of his gun directly at Patrick. "Get up."

One by one, all except for Doctor Larkin rose slowly to their feet. Julian glanced towards her, and was strangely relieved to see her wince with another laborious breath.

"Turn around," growled Cadmus, sweeping his rifle horizontally across the assembled group. "Faces against the wall."

If you do that, he'll execute us all. Bashir saw the intent in his captors' eyes. It would happen as certainly as they had attempted to do to Larkin. Not this time.

From now, if anyone was to claim control over his life - it would be him.

"No," he insisted, with as much cold ferocity as had ever accompanied his voice. "If we're going to die anyway, then it will happen on our terms. Not yours."

He stepped away from the edge of the room, and met their leader's answering glare with steady defiance. "And, damn you, look me in the eye."

Cadmus' eyes were just as cold. "When are you going to learn?" he responded with little hint that any feeling remained behind his words. "You people don't have the advantage any more. Not on Earth. Not in this quadrant, and certainly not in this room."

But something else caught Bashir's attention as he glanced momentarily over one shoulder. True obstinacy was not to be found in Riley's backward steps, nor in the glint of light that flashed momentarily over his eyes. But the other man's breathing was far too controlled, too deliberate and slow. Almost as…

Julian's eyes narrowed.

…As if he's anticipating something.

And now Bashir knew with utter certainty that he, too, had been holding his breath. A sharp pain in his inner ears was sure indication that the mechanical sound had continued in its mounting intensity.

"I'm still waiting, Brian," warned Cadmus in a low voice. Confronted with only a silent, defiant stare, he shoved the other man aside. "Out of the way, then. I'll do it myself."

A sudden flare of light shot upward from the console, sending Cadmus back in a heavy free-fall. His cry of pain was drowned by the plasma surge, but the sound of bones cracking apart could have been mistaken for little else.

Red, glistening flesh had instantly risen to angry blisters over the entire left side of Riley's face. His eyes were open, head askew at an angle that confirmed him as instantly dead. Cadmus' eyelids were reddened, swollen, and closed to slits. Each breath was slow and heavy, with a laboured, bubbling sound coming through his throat. Internal bleeding - and very likely with several severely ruptured organs behind his chest and stomach.

Ears ringing, his vision only gradually returning to his eyes, Julian staggered as he propped himself tenuously against the wall. He heard groans, someone coughing - and responded with a sharp automatic cough of his own. What happened? The shade of memories rose slowly, struggling through the confusion of his mind. There had been a change in the constant buzzing tone. A hint of colour beneath the panel - something exposed…

Sabotage.

But whatever the cause, he realised, Cadmus would not survive for very much longer. There was nothing to be done.