Episode One - Crazy Old Man

Chapter 8
Missed Chances

"Two Kazon ships are approaching the Array," Tuvok said, tapping at his console at the Defiant as if he'd been working here the last six months instead of the Valjean.

Thomas didn't know if that was because Federation starships tended to have similar layouts or if it was more to do with Tuvok's overall skill and experience. Maybe it was both. Either way, it didn't matter.

Captain Worf only nodded in response. "Weapons systems online, Lieutenant. Set a course, Mister Paris. Red alert."

Chakotay stood at the back of the room like he hadn't broken anything, and like he was observing again, except that he tapped his combadge. "Subcommander T'Rul?" Chakotay asked. The Romulan responded. "How's the cloaking device? We may need it very soon."

"Ready."

"Thank you, Commander," Worf said, and Thomas couldn't help but marvel that it sounded genuine until Worf snapped at him. "Mister Riker!"

Thomas hurried to look back from what he assumed had been a long reverie. Probably sending him back to the raider, even though the Defiant was probably perfectly capable of defending herself. Even in what seemed like a half-finished state.

"Report to the Valjean—the Kazon cannot be allowed to take the Array, if that is their plan." Worf nodded to Tuvok, who nodded back and rose from his chair. Lieutenant Geissler took his place as quickly.

Maybe the ability to read people was just intrinsic to Tuvok. "Yeah," Thomas answered, and left with Tuvok directly behind.

Thomas had to admit to a slight jealousy that Worf had taken his XO, but Ayala was obviously a perfectly competent one. Actually, a great one. But this much better ship had a whole ship of well-trained Starfleet officers and Thomas's engineer in surgery. It just didn't seem fair.

"I will see to it that communications between the Valjean and Defiant are linked," Tuvok said as Thomas stepped up to the pad. "It seems likely the Kazon will not assess the situation before taking aggressive action."

"In other words, keep the phasers locked and photon torpedoes loaded," Thomas said.

Tuvok seemed to not know whether that was what he meant or not until he said, "That is my recommendation."

"I'll take that under advisement, Mister Tuvok." Thomas watched him nod, and tap into the controls. "You know, despite everything, you were a great XO."

Tuvok hesitated long enough to make eye-contact. "And you, an adequate captain."

Thomas grinned as the Defiant disappeared, and the Valjean was once again before his eyes.

Damn, he loved this old bucket of bolts. She was falling apart, but she was trusty. Seska nodded a greeting to him while Ayala gave up the captain's seat.

"Report?" he asked, sliding into his chair and looking at the dark grid on the screen to his left. The red dots, a yellow one, and a hulking grey outline that didn't quite show its impressive size in two dimensions.

"We're reading another three vessels approaching," Ayala said, taking his customary seat at the raider's equivalent of ops station.

Seska had weapons at her fingertips. Thomas had no idea who was in Engineering. In fact, he had no idea who was onboard. He could see there were seven of them here—there were still thirteen of them on the Defiant, including his best engineer.

Probably best to have the best on the ship with the cloaking device. Or maybe that was the exact opposite of the way it should have been? He would have asked Tuvok for a tactical assessment if he'd been here.

"Let's give them a little space," he said, and tapped into the controls.

The Valjean moved away from the Defiant and the bigger Kazon ship just as he could see the stream of comms traffic flying between the two ships. He could only imagine what Chakotay was saying. Hey, we don't want to fight over this, but we do need that thing. But with what he had to imagine was more gravitas.

"Three more Kazon, uh—" Ayala hesitated, tapped a few more times, then decided. "Raiders. I'm going to call them raiders—are approaching."

Thomas smiled at Ayala's tongue-in-cheek attempt to emulate Tuvok's always-knowledgeable reports. Tuvok wasn't opposed to using something less precise like vessel even if it gave Thomas no hints what the ship was like. He might have complained about that once.

"Thank you for that, James." Thomas chuckled and turned the Valjean to face one of the Kazon vessels.

The Defiant took off, and Thomas couldn't help but be impressed at the speed of that little ship under thrusters. The ablative armor practically laughed at the little Kazon ship's phasers, to the point that Thomas wondered if the Kazon ship could stand even a single hit from the Defiant.

Meanwhile, the Valjean was more-or-less evenly matched to the Kazon raiders.

"Defiant to Valjean," Worf said over the speakers.

"That's us," Thomas said. "What can we do for you, Captain?"

"Mister Tuvok and Chakotay are beaming over to the array," Worf said.

Chakotay spoke up a second later: "Don't embarrass me. I'm hoping my confidence in your ability to not die while we're gone isn't misplaced."

Thomas nodded, even though he knew the viewscreen wasn't active. He couldn't say he was surprised with the unspoken revelation that Worf must have given orders not to fire on the Kazon unless it was absolutely necessary. "We'll make you proud. Good luck," he said, and tapped the comms link off.

"The Defiant should be able to hold the Kazon off all on its own, right?" Seska said. "Why aren't they firing?"

"Because it'd be a joke," Thomas said.

Seska wouldn't understand. She wasn't Starfleet.

Granted, in any Bajoran eye, Starfleet had a bad habit of not pointing phasers where they maybe should have been. Thomas had to admit to a conflict within himself about that… but this situation was different. They didn't belong here. They weren't even neighbors. This balance of power wasn't theirs to upset.

"It'd be like a teenager beating up a toddler," Ayala said, then frowned as the Valjean shook with Kazon weapons fire. He reported on the status of their own phasers fighting back.

Thomas didn't even have any kids, and he didn't like that comparison. The lone raider flying ineffectively after the Defiant realized they were chasing after someone with much longer legs, and turned to find a better match in the Valjean.

"Well…" Seska said, and sounded almost amused. Certainly more at ease than Thomas would expect from just about anyone on the Defiant. "Considering this has become a fight of three toddlers against one, I sure wish dad would step in."

Thomas pulled out every piloting trick he knew, but he missed over half of them. Just a bunch of missed chances. Even still, the Valjean was a quick and maneuverable, and their size made it a difficult target. The Defiant was much bigger… which seemed almost funny to think about such a little ship.

The Valjean bucked with another strike, and Ayala gritted his teeth. "Believe it or not, shields are holding."

"Well, isn't that something?" Thomas smiled and flipped the Valjean over as he dodged in and out of the array's arms for cover. Evasive pattern Phi-Four with creative license. "How are phasers, my dear?" With that, he glanced at Seska.

"We'll burn them out before we make any headway," she said, obviously not as good-humored about the situation as Ayala seemed to be. "But if we keep trying, we might give them a rash."

"Bug bites. And what are we except fleas on the ass of the Cardassian fleet?" Ayala wondered.

#

Tuvok looked around. The surroundings displayed by the Caretaker's array now was unlike the one the crew of the Valjean had been given previously. He flipped open his tricorder and oriented himself to the new landscape, placing the landmarks he remembered of the Bajoran environment in relation to this one.

He entered the barn and began to scan. "The data-processing system is behind this wall." He looked back to see Chakotay following him, curiously and cautiously.

"You know what we're doing?" Chakotay asked, though it sounded to Tuvok like a joke. He left Chakkotay alone to find the entity on his own.

He was, after all, the closest thing they had to a diplomat on board.

Tuvok turned his full attention to the wall of the barn. It was, of course, not a barn. He tapped at the tricorder to test the emitter, dialing down to the correct frequency to remove the illusion and leave only what was. He had never seen anything like it, but it seemed to be laid out in a logical manner.

With a few tentative taps and switches at the controls, he carefully investigated the method of power transfer and why the array was building up unnecessary power in its energy core. He wasn't sure he'd be able to redirect the power to the mechanism the Caretaker used to transport the Defiant and Valjean with that happening.

He suddenly heard the Caretaker talking to Chakotay—the voice of the old Bajoran man with the instrument. "Well," the old man said, "you're nothing if not persistent."

"We need you to send us back where we came from," Chakotay said.

"That's not possible. I've only barely enough strength to complete my work. If I don't, the Kazon will steal the water." The Caretaker suddenly sighed and whimpered helplessly. "But in a few years when the Ocampa's energy runs out, it won't matter. They'll be forced to come to the surface, and they won't be able to survive."

"Something you did turned their planet into a desert, didn't it?" Chakotay asked.

Tuvok was sure that answer didn't matter as much as his statement that it was his strength that was running out to act. The Caretaker told Chakotay he and his mate were explorers, and it was an accident, so he stayed to watch the Ocampa and protect them while his mate went on to find more interesting things. Only when he realized he was dying did he begin abducting ships from other areas of the galaxy in multiple failed attempts to procreate, to find someone who could continue his work. Only his offspring could understand the magnitude of that responsibility.

Chakotay was quiet while he spoke, then asked, "Did you ever think maybe the Ocampa could care for themselves?"

"They're children."

"Children grow up. Maybe they'll do better than you think."

Tuvok happened to know that Chakotay didn't have any children, but Tuvok could at least empathize with the Caretaker in that: the irrational desire to protect his children from difficulty and to always provide them with what they needed.

But comparing the development of an entire species to the maturation of an individual was illogical.

"I have so little time left," the Caretaker lamented as Tuvok found the mechanism designed to emit a coherent tetryon beam like that he'd scanned on the Valjean. He wasn't convinced it would work in reverse, and definitely not quickly enough to avoid a fight with the Kazon outside.

Tuvok went to join Chakotay in the room with the Caretaker. "I can access the system to send us back to Federation space, but it will take several hours to activate."

Chakotay looked at the elderly man—this time a Human with a different stringed instrument. "Unless you help us."

Tuvok wasn't sure that was true, but the Caretaker answered, "I have too little time left. If I initiate the process to send you back, the array will be left unprotected." The Caretaker looked into the distance for the moment, then shook his head resolutely. "No. No, I must complete the self-destruct program. It's the only way the Ocampa will be safe."

The array suddenly shuddered beneath them, and the rest of the holographic artifice fell away. The Caretaker was not a Human, but a large violet amoeboid creature with strings of light and an aura of radiant energy.

Chakotay hurried to tap his combadge. "Defiant, what the hell?"

"Sorry, Chakotay; one of the little Kazon ships seems to have lost a port thruster and the pilot couldn't figure out how to not run into the array," Paris said. "Brushed one of the arms."

"Excuse me, Mister Paris." Tuvok glanced at the captain apologetically as he tapped his combadge to join the conversation. "One of the little ships?"

"Yeah, there's three little ones, a big one, and another on the way," Paris answered. "Frankly, I'm not sure the Valjean can handle much more. But between you and me, I'd've turned the Valjean to pretty glittering dust by now if I were just one of the Kazon ships."

"Yeah, I'm sure you would, Paris," Chakotay said. "And you're not going to do anything about it…" he added with a sigh.

Tuvok looked at Chakotay. "We may not interfere."

The Caretaker suddenly gave a garbled groan. "The collision has damaged the self-destruct mechanism. Now this installation will not be destroyed, but it must be…" It breathed in rasps, the color and light flickering as it did. "The Kazon must not be allowed to gain control of the array. They will annihilate the Ocampa. Please—destroy—"

"We need the array intact!" Chakotay snapped at the alien, but it didn't matter.

The final light flickered from the being as it shriveled into a size large enough to be held in Chakotay's two hands. Tuvok turned his tricorder to the creature to confirm that it was as lifeless as it appeared.

"Shit."

"A curious situation," Tuvok allowed.

"You think?" Chakotay hissed and walked away a few steps while Tuvok knelt beside the Caretaker. "If you say one word to me about the Prime Directive—"

"That is what makes this situation curious. Had we not interfered by diverting the Kazon from docking at the array, the self-destruct mechanism likely would not have been damaged. At the very least, the array would be destroyed. The Kazon may very well have been destroyed, as well."

"What? Are you telling me we have to destroy the array because not destroying it would be a violation of the Prime Directive? That's insane." Chakotay stooped and, to Tuvok's surprise and revulsion, picked up the Caretaker's remains to peer at them.

Tuvok ignored that for the moment. "Any action we take at this point would affect the balance of power in this system. The logical course of action at this point may be to retreat."

"To hell with logic and to hell with the Prime Directive." Chakotay pondered the remains, then looked around the array as it shook beneath them. He sighed and growled, "Damnit. We have to destroy it." With that, he looked up at Tuvok. "But if we do that, we have to agree. Really, honestly, completely agree."

For a moment, Tuvok found himself speechless. He stared at Chakotay, thinking for the first time in as many days that this might work out after all. All the same, "We must agree?"

Chakotay seemed to be at a loss for words as he lowered the Caretaker's remains, but didn't set them back down. "If only you or I make the decision I think we both know needs to be made, the Starfleet and Maquis crews will self-destruct. At least if you and I, Maquis and Starfleet, are united, we could hold them together."

He was clearly correct about that. "Those were not our orders."

"No." Chakotay sighed. "They weren't. If there's one thing I've always questioned about the Federation's sense of ethics, it's the idea that it's better to live our lives and make our choices as though we weren't here. Relativism has its uses in anthropology, not in life. If it had been some other ship, from some other alien culture, describe the aliens that would protect the Ocampa from what may amount to genocide—at least the enslavement of their whole people."

Tuvok bristled, but straightened. "I would speculate they would be a compassionate or benevolent species with no care for the consequences of their actions."

"We never know the consequences. Hell, did you think when you took the assignment to spy on the Maquis that it would land you on the outside edge of the other side of the galaxy?"

"Our actions may have truly random consequences," Tuvok allowed. "However, to act is to take a side, neither of which we understand."

"We never understand, and inaction is, in this case, taking a side." Chakotay sighed. "I'd prefer to be the people that had compassion."

"Preference is irrelevant," Tuvok offered.

"We didn't stumble onto this situation while we were out exploring on our own recognizance. We were brought here, we screwed up the Caretaker's plan, and now we were asked explicitly to help. And I'm not going to play god by deciding now that I'm here what would have happened if I weren't. The Caretaker changed this system by coming here and has for a millennium, he changed it again by bringing us here, and we'd change that by our decision to leave."

Tuvok couldn't argue with that. At least not in the time he had.

"Damnit, and even if we wanted to use the array to ride off into the sunset, we'd have to fight the Kazon off to do it." Chakotay rubbed his forehead. "I can't strand two crews here. This is my responsibility. This is my fault."

"That is true regardless of where the crews are located. Even if you choose to return to the Alpha Quadrant, you will be forced to betray one of them." Tuvok considered that for a moment, while Chakotay seemed to think. "Regardless of your personal allegiance, both crews trust us to make the correct decision at this moment." An unenviable position for all involved.

Tuvok knew what he would do, but he had to see this through. He only knew what he would do on his own… and Chakotay was right. If that was the decision they were going to make, they would have to make it together. And the last thing he was going to do was tell Chakotay what to think or do.

Finally, Chakotay groaned. "Shit."

Chakotay looked at Tuvok, obviously pained with the knowledge that there were no desirable options from which to choose. Tuvok would have agreed with that assessment had Chakotay voiced the opinion. Instead, he said, "It seems as if you've made your choice."

"The Caretaker promised he would protect these people. He asked us to help. We've seen the Ocampa would be enslaved, maybe even killed if we do nothing." Chakotay put the Caretaker back down on the floor where he'd been and offered a hand to Tuvok. "What about you? Are you with me, Tuvok?"

Arching an eyebrow at the extended hand, Tuvok accepted the metaphorical restart to their relationship, an introduction to someone Tuvok hadn't met yet, the man Chakotay wanted to be: irrationally compassionate. Presumably a thief and definitely an honorable one. And, at least for the moment, this was the man Tuvok thought he could follow.

Despite his misgivings, Tuvok took Chakotay's hand. "Yes. I am."

They were here. Speculation was illogical, but in this case it lent a form of solidarity. Chakotay would have to explain why he'd stranded the crew seventy-thousand lightyears from home.

Tuvok would have to explain the same thing.

#

Chakotay strode onto the bridge, holding a rock for some reason Jadzia decided not to question. "The Kazon just got some backup," she said, consulting her station while Worf held conference with Tuvok and Chakotay at the back of the bridge. Their tones were hushed, and the expressions serious.

She had no desire to be part of that conference.

When Chakotay said to Worf, "I relieve you, Commander," loud enough for everyone to hear, she almost wished she had.

Worf yielded the chair without a single objection. He only said, "I am relieved," and stood to the side.

"Thank you," Chakotay said. With a sigh heaved from what seemed like the depths of his soul, Chakotay sat in the captain's chair. "Whoever's at ops, get me the lead Kazon ship." He waved a hand to cut off the attempted answer. "I'll learn everyone's name later."

Jadzia knew his name was Harry Kim—the one that had been missing until just a few hours ago maybe. He bore up pretty well under the stress and confusion of what seemed to be a rapidly-evolving command structure, but Jadzia thought he looked pretty young. She also doubted Harry was about to try to introduce himself.

"Yes, sir," Ensign Kim said. "Channel open."

A Kazon appeared on the screen, looking pretty miffed. "Be advised, Defiant: I've called for additional ships."

"Thank you for the heads-up, Captain," Chakotay said with a nod. "Be advised: I intend to destroy the Array. You might want to move your vessels to a safe distance."

The Kazon growled, and Jadzia could see he fought the impulse to stand. "You can't do that!"

"I can and I will." Chakotay gave another wave of his hand in Ensign Kim's direction. "End transmission." With that, he looked at Worf. "I want some options that don't involve throwing everything we have including the deflector at that thing, Mister Worf."

"That wasn't a bluff?" Paris took the Defiant into a banked turn around the array to put them between the Valjean and the Kazon vessels.

"Worf?"

"If I may," Tuvok said, "it's possible everything we have short of the deflector will not be enough."

"Incredibly helpful, Tuvok, thank you." Chakotay's sarcasm could have cut the air between them. "I need options, and I need them five seconds ago."

Jadzia couldn't believe what she was hearing. Not only was Chakotay captain somehow, but he was hell-bent on destroying the array—their only way home—but he might have even been considering using the Defiant's single-use warhead to do it. The forward section of the Defiant was armed with thrusters and photon torpedos, able to be launched as a "last laugh" kind of weapon.

But in this case, no one would be laughing. The warhead also housed the navigational deflector. They wouldn't be able to go to warp without it.

There had to be another option.

Jadzia watched her sensors, and the Kazon ships finally having caught onto Riker's tricks. "The Valjean is taking increased fire," she said. "Their shields are failing."

Chakotay snapped his fingers and pointed at Tuvok just before tapping his combadge. "Defiant to Valjean, set self-destruct to three minutes and lower your shields."

"Chakotay?"

"Just do it, Thomas! We'll bring you over." Chakotay whipped around to look at his second-in-command. "Tuvok!"

"On my way, Captain." Tuvok left the bridge. Jadzia could only assume he was going to the transporter room to rescue the Valjean's crew from a suicide mission.

"Damnit, Chakotay," Riker growled, "I love this ship…"

"You'll love the Defiant just as much, I promise," Chakotay said, and nodded to Paris. "Bring us in close to the Valjean, Paris."

"Aye, sir." Paris shrugged and turned back to his controls.

"Tuvok," Chakotay went on, "as soon as you have them, beam the Valjean's warp core to the array."

Jadzia felt her knuckles blanch as Paris took the Defiant on high thrust toward the Valjean set to explode, but she could see that Chakotay's plan would work. It would work really well. The Defiant flew past the Valjean, and Tuvok announced success: he had the remaining crew of the Valjean, and the Valjean was without its warp core.

"Get us out of here, Paris."

"What the hell are we doing?" Paris demanded from conn, even as he took the Defiant into a sharp bank to avoid one of the Kazon raiders. "That array is the only way we have to get home!"

"I know that," Chakotay said, and looked at Worf. "But I'm not willing to trade the lives of the Ocampa for our convenience. We'll have to find another way home."

Jadzia watched in shock as the Valjean took another volley of fire from three of the Kazon raiders before igniting like a candle that was extinguished just as quickly. The big Kazon vessel turned their attention to the Defiant—and their weapons made much more of an impact on the Defiant's shields.

But it wasn't going to matter, was it?

Jadzia felt tears slide down the side of her nose when a minute later, the array in her scans exploded—the bottom-most part first. In a series of smaller explosions that crawled up the center of the station, the array broke apart until a bright flash of light cut up from the middle like a comet. The arms broke off and floated briefly before the shockwave knocked them off and splintered them into shards of glittering black and gray in the expanse of space.

It didn't matter if she agreed or not anymore. They weren't getting home that way…

But what other way home is there?

With a resolute sigh, brushing away her tears, Jadzia sat straighter. They'd find another way home. Or else they'd just point the Defiant in the right direction and never stop flying.

"The lead Kazon ship is hailing us," Kim said quietly. Jadzia didn't look at him for fear he might start crying, too.

"Put them on," Chakotay sighed, and stood.

"You've made an enemy today!" the Kazon barked, and the screen went blank again before Chakotay could respond. The Kazon ship puttered away toward the fifth planet again.

Chakotay wheezed a mirthless laugh. "A man of few words, I guess, huh?"

Nobody seemed to think it was funny. Jadzia watched Chakotay look around the bridge with a blank expression on his face. He said he'd be in his ready room, and left. Jadzia hadn't noticed Riker came onto the bridge with Tuvok: he dismissed Kim after the young ensign fully engaged a stiff upper lip and took the seat at ops.

Paris pressed his fingers over his mouth, and probably said the only coherent thought on everyone's minds at that moment. "Fuck me."

Jadzia was just as much in shock as she imagined everyone else was. They could really have done whatever they wanted with the Defiant. They could have destroyed the Kazon ships without thinking and left the array to whoever wanted to take it when they were gone. Jadzia understood why Chakotay felt he couldn't do that, but it was at a terrible price.

The price either way was so high… too high. It was obvious that some of them—maybe even all of them—would never see home again.

Tuvok stood beside the captain's chair in silent contemplation. Worf sat at tactical, watching his sensor sweep of the debris in an equally stoic silence. Riker idly tapped at the ops console, and Paris frowned in what looked like silent rage.

"How the hell could he do that?" Paris asked. "I was this close to getting off Earth for good."

"Didn't you?" Jadzia asked, and smiled a little.

"Not funny."

She sighed. "I know."

With a sudden breath, Tuvok turned to face the viewscreen. "All of you are dismissed."

Surprise rippled over the wearing shock on the bridge. Jadzia turned to see him, to make sure she'd heard correctly. Riker frowned past his otherwise serious expression. Paris seemed to have already gotten too much startling news for the day, muting his response.

"Sir?" Worf immediately turned in his chair to face him, his brows furrowed even more with confusion.

"I will remain on the bridge," Tuvok said. "If necessary, I will recall you, but we currently have no orders. I suspect each of you may need time to process the consequences of these events. You are free to do so." Tuvok took a seat, tapping the controls on his armrest.

"What about everyone else?" Riker asked.

"And what about you?" Jadzia asked.

Tuvok glanced at her, but didn't otherwise address her. "I have notified each of the departments. They will disseminate the information to the crew under them." With that, Tuvok looked toward Riker. "However, I anticipated you would want to share the news with the crew of the Valjean."

"I don't want to," Riker said, and stood anyway. "But, yeah, I'll tell them. Tell them to meet me in the cargo bay or something."

Tuvok only nodded as Riker left the bridge. Paris left a bit staggeringly, as if he was exhausted or drunk. Kim hurried out the other door. Jadzia found herself looking at Worf looking at her. Both of them turned to Tuvok.

"I guess it's just the debris and us officers." Jadzia sighed and turned back to her console. Tuvok was right that they didn't have any orders, but she had never hurt anything by scanning.

She realized that wasn't true, but it was just an idiom anyway.

"Mind explaining to me what's going on?" she asked.

"Simply, we would not have been able to utilize the array to travel back to the Alpha Quadrant without also destroying the Kazon ships," Tuvok said. "Commander Worf, while a capable and experienced officer, does not have the command experience to return the Defiant to the Alpha Quadrant at this time. This was… a test."

"Ah." She nodded, but felt slightly hurt that she hadn't been included in the decision… even though she couldn't have added anything. It seemed like a sound set of decisions. Either way, now certainly wasn't the time to quibble about a decision she wasn't sure she would have done anything to change.

"This is a most unfortunate situation." Worf turned back to his tactical station, too. "However, I am… gratified to know that Commander Chakotay can be trusted at least to uphold the Prime Directive."

Tuvok sighed. "Captain."

Worf glanced at him.

"Captain Chakotay."

Worf grumbled. Jadzia couldn't blame him. He'd been captain, nominally, a few days ago. Chakotay had been a traitor. Neither of those things mattered anymore. They were seventy-five thousand lightyears away from home.

"What the hell are we gonna do…?" Jadzia wondered, expecting no answer at all.

"We will continue to perform our duties," Tuvok said. "We will be expected to uphold perhaps a higher standard than otherwise, as half of our crew is comprised of Maquis terrorists. The majority of them are entirely untrained in starship operations and undisciplined." Tuvok looked at Worf first, then at Jadzia. "It will be difficult to unify the crew, but we all possess a common goal."

"And get home in one piece?" Jadzia wondered.

"I am confident we will be able to maintain order." Worf didn't even stop whatever he was doing on his console.

The door behind Tuvok opened, letting Julian onto the bridge. "What the hell happened here?" he asked, his voice weak. He crosses the bridge to lean against the console next to Jadzia. "I mean, really, what the hell?"

"It was a choice between our getting back to the Alpha Quadrant," Tuvok said, "our destroying the Kazon ships, or enacting a series of events which could end in the death and enslavement of the Ocampan people." Tuvok seemed to think about it. "I'm sure we all agree this is the most palatable of the choices."

Julian scoffed, scrubbed his face with both hands as he slumped to look at the floor. "We're never going to make it home, are we?"

Nobody answered.

Julian shuddered. "Oh, my god."