Her sister caught her, steadied her, "Kehlan, are you okay?" Mara's voice still sounded very from away but at her twin's touch, Kehlan understood the final piece of the puzzle.

With some effort, she nodded, "I'm fine." Reaching out, she opened a channel. "Priority One. Kehlan to Khetara, N'Sal and Christa Inigan. I need you here, right now!"

Allowing the channel to close again, she glanced at her sister, "I'll need you too." Exhausted, she sank back into her chair and waited for her friends.

N'Sal and Khetara arrived quickly and even as Kehlan stood to greet them the final member of the group was also arriving. Krang's Terran wife looked worried and unsure of herself. Unlike the others she was a civilian and not accustomed to being in the centre of a battle, much less one for their very souls. Nevertheless she had been chosen and she answered the call, however much it frightened her.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you, my friends," Kehlan said, "but you are needed."

"What do you want of us?" Chrissie asked nervously.

"I..." Kehlan hesitated, she did not know how to express the instinctive knowledge she had received through her link with the lost souls. "You three... N'Sal, you are the priestess, Chrissie is the mother... and Khetara, you are the warrior."

"The crone you mean?" Khetara grinned, "Yes, I know the legends... the three faces of the goddess."

Kehlan nodded, "Well that makes it easier," she said, "Together we can fight this thing."

Mara frowned, "If those three are the goddess, what are you? And what is my role in this?"

"I am a telepath" Kehlan said, trying to explain, "A very weak one, but it is enough. I am the focus... and you my sister... you are my strength and my support. We are one, you and I. Together we channel the power of the goddess and free the trapped souls."

"We share the same genes," Mara acknowledged, "Very well, what I have is yours. Just tell me what to do."

"That's just it," Kehlan frowned," This sort of thing doesn't exactly come with an instruction manual. I don't know."

N'Sal was silent for a moment, "Join hands, close your eyes and concentrate on Kehlan." She could not have said where the knowledge came from... the link she shared with Kehlan, maybe...

Somewhat self-consciously, Chrissie and Khetara took N'Sal's proffered hands and did as she instructed. They stood on Endeavour's bridge, ignoring the watching crewmembers; N'Sal in the middle, Khetara on the right and Chrissie on the left. Kehlan and Mara moved closer and linking with them, formed a circle.

Her eyes closing, Kehlan attempted to reach out, to renew contact with the alien souls trapped on board the Dutchman's vessel. The link was weak but she drew strength from her friends and after a few dizzying moments, she felt their presence in her mind.

The souls were hungry for the power she channelled, greedily syphoning it away from her and as a sense of weakness filled her, her knees buckled and her consciousness began to fade, taking with it the link.

Mara sensed the change in her sister and tightened her grip on her hand, "Take my strength, sister, it is yours. You and I are one." The more Terran of the two sisters neither understood nor wanted all this mumbo jumbo, but for her sister, she would do what was needed without hesitation. Concentrating fiercely, she mentally sent everything she had to her beleaguered twin.

As the small group of women helped the lost souls to fight for their freedom, on board the Rapier and far away in space and time on an old Viking ship, Admiral James Mackenzie was fighting for the freedom of all of them... the intensity of the conflict grew and escalated, until all of them could feel the malevolent power of the Dutchman. It would be over soon, for better or worse, none could say!

On every level of consciousness, Mackenzie fought his enemy. In the here and now, he was standing, apparently alone, in the cockpit of the Rapier, the ex-Starfleet shuttle he had borrowed from N'Sal. In his mind however, the true battlefield, he was fighting on the deck of an old fashioned square rigged sailing ship. Steel blades clashed and sparks flew as the Dutchman pressed him, seeking an advantage, trying to push him back. But the admiral held his ground. Alone, he could not win this fight; he could only hope that those who sought to assist him knew what to do and that his interference could keep the Dutchman occupied long enough for them to do their jobs without him noticing until it was too late.

Far in the past, across time and space, he was also fighting, this time on a cold, windswept sandy beach. Somewhere in the future he was fighting, but he knew nothing of that battle for it had not yet occurred. Nor was he assured of winning the fight in the past, for here in this realm time was meaningless. Past and present intermingled and what happened in the future, would affect the past. It should not be so. Physics said it was impossible, but physics did not take into account the rare juxtaposition of the belief systems of three major empires... and today the barriers between the physical and spirit worlds were almost completely non-existent. Today anything could happen.

Twisting to avoid a particularly savage blow from the Dutchman, Mackenzie caught sight of N'Sal out of the corner of his eye, as she moved to caress the carved wooden figure head. He sensed the slightest beginnings of life, of movement and quickly turned away, determined that the Dutchman should not notice. He was tiring now, but N'Sal had given him renewed hope and gritting his teeth, he intensified the attack on the ancient enemy.

On all levels the Dutchman was ready for him, meeting and returning every blow. But even as there on the beach he was driving Mackenzie into the shallow water… and on the decks of the galleon, was pressing his enemy hard against the railing... and as the Mackenzie on board the Rapier was driven to his knees by a sharp stab of mental agony, it was already too late for the Dutchman.

On Endeavour's bridge, Kehlan and those who represented the goddess offered up the last dregs of energy available to them, energy that was greedily accepted by the trapped souls on the ghost ship as they made one final, desperate push for freedom.