VIRTUAL SEASON 7.5

episode 27

Rendezvous in Sector 21503

Rendezvous in Sector 21503

By Christina and Rocky

Intro: This story was originally scheduled for May 13, so I thought I would have fun...but then we added another story, and the real world interfered.

Nevertheless, I still had fun with my *in jokes.*

PS we are ignoring Nemesis fact and rumor.

Prologue

Somewhere in the Beta Quadrant

"I agree, Senator Ralurm," the Tal Shiar agent called Nolqira replied with a private smile. The female Senator had insisted upon this meeting, so Nolqira had picked the heart of the Romulan capital. Ralurm was overly worried, and just needed some reassurance. He could provide that. He leaned back in his chair just as the monitor signaled the arrival of an incoming message.

Senator Ralurm looked up expectantly. "Is that Sub-Commander Virapl?" she asked.

Nolqira nodded. "He is punctual, as usual." He cast a sidelong glance at her. "There is no need to let him know of your involvement."

"I agree," she said. He thought she seemed relieved. Nolqira was also pleased with her willingness to remain in the shadows--even though he knew full well she was doing it to protect herself if anything went wrong. Veteran of over a hundred covert assignments, he was accustomed to operating out of the limelight--so to speak. His plan was being conducted independently of the Tal Shiar. Only he knew the full scope of the plan--a plan that was about to come to fruition. The image of a Romulan officer appeared on his screen.

"Sub-Commander," Nolqira said. "I trust all is well?"

"All is proceeding as planned. We have just rendezvoused with the battle cruiser, Khellian."

"And our...allies?" Nolqira enjoyed the look of disgust on Virapl's face.

"Our *allies* are now onboard the Aehallh."

"Excellent. Both ships are to proceed directly to the operation site fully cloaked. Until you have successfully completed the mission, you are to maintain subspace silence."

Virapl acknowledged the order and the screen went blank.

"Two allies?" Ralurm asked.

"The two Ferengi brothers I met on ch'Harranth." Nolqira shrugged. "They were almost successful a year ago in waylaying Voyager. They have knowledge of the ship and its particulars my agents do not. They have been most useful, but they are also a liability to our plans and the Emperor."

She nodded. "I understand. Sub-Commander Virapl does *understand* that failure is not an option?"

"Yes, Senator, *they* all understand their duty."

Ralurm smiled. "Our alliance with the Federation should never have happened, but the Romulan Empire will not fade into the interstellar dust. The technology alone makes this mission worthwhile." Her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "The Emperor wants this too, only..."

Nolqira nodded with more understanding than Senator Ralurm could possibly know. After the death of the Empress just a year ago, her cousin was trying to regain the power she had let slip away.

"Yes, Senator." He understood. The Emperor, like the Senator, could not publicly be seen to be involved. He looked up when she suddenly laughed.

"Virapl mentioned the Khellian, as in Sub-Commander Shopar's ship?" He'd wondered if she would understand the irony of his choice. "Senator Mykar will not approve. You have chosen well." She stood to leave. "I don't expect to hear from you again."

Nolqira waited until she'd left, before he permitted himself to smile at the joke at Mykar's expense. Sub-Commander Shopar had been married to Senator Mykar's sister until her sudden and mysterious death seven years ago. Shopar had quickly married his mistress. As a result, Mykar had made sure that Shopar had not been promoted. Mykar was also in favor of the Federation alliance, so choosing Shopar for this mission had been easy. Virapl's own family had fallen into disfavor, so he too had been passed over for higher command for many years. Both Romulan officers were ambitious, frustrated, and had readily accepted their assignment: the rewards would be generous.

The biggest reward would be freedom from the treaty. A treaty that should never have happened and wouldn't have--if the truth had been told. But no, the late Empress had forbidden the Tal Shiar from revealing anything about the Federation subterfuge that had lead to the treaty.

He picked up his scanner and swept the room. Not that he suspected the Senator would betray him, but he hadn't lasted twenty years in the Tal Shiar by trusting anyone. Failure or success, after this operation, 'Nolqira' would vanish. He would pick another alias.

#

Harry couldn't stop smiling as the lift started to move. This was it.

"Stop smiling," Tom said. "We're not home yet." Despite his words, Tom was smiling too.

"Only after you stop."

"Don't jinx us..."

"I have no intention of jinxing anything," Harry's grin grew. "Mom is expecting us for dumplings as soon as things settle down some. She wants to meet Marla." The banter stopped for a second as the lift door opened, depositing them on the bridge. "Knowing her, I bet she'll be on the first ship to Deep Space Nine when our arrival is announced."

"Good morning, lieutenants," Chakotay said. He gave them a mock frown. "The bridge is no place for levity."

"Aye, sir," Tom said. Chakotay was grinning too.

Harry relieved Hugh Murphy at the ops station. "I'm jealous," Hugh said. "I'll trade you shifts."

"But you've just finished your shift," Harry said with a laugh.

"For this, I'll gladly serve four in a row. You wouldn't want to go back to bed, would you? Sleep in..." Hugh winked.

"Nah," Harry said. "And miss our final jump? You'll just have to watch from the mess hall with everyone else." Starfleet still had them jumping over three thousand light years. Janeway had asked for a delay of several days while they rechecked everything. Starfleet had agreed, there was no point in repeating the conditions that only a few months ago had flung them back to the Delta Quadrant and into the past.

"Well, I tried." Hugh stepped back. "Here's to home!"

Harry chuckled, then frowned when a light flashed. "Commander, we're receiving a message from Starfleet." This was the fourth message from Starfleet in the past two days. The first two had been changes in location, and the third had involved a change in arrival time.

"Another? I'll inform the captain." Janeway entered from her Ready Room a second later.

"Yes, Lieutenant," she said. "Display the message onscreen."

The image of Admiral Hayes appeared. "Captain Janeway."

"Admiral, we're ready to engage the slipstream." She smiled. "We'll be home in a few minutes."

Hayes frowned. "I'm sorry, but there's a slight change in plans. Due to security concerns, we want you to proceed to Sector 21503." The image flickered. Harry adjusted the incoming signal so they could maintain contact.

"21503?" Janeway said with surprise. "Sir, that's..."

"I know very well where it is," Hayes said tersely. "You have your orders, Captain Janeway. The Enterprise will rendezvous with you there. Starfleet out." The image vanished, leaving Janeway and most of the bridge crew shaking their heads.

Harry hesitated. "Sector 21503?"

"Double check that," Janeway said with a quick glance at Chakotay who shrugged.

"The transmitted orders confirm sector 21503. I've sent the coordinates to the helm," Harry said after a quick check through the file.

"Strange," she said. "Starfleet really must be worried to make such a drastic change in our destination. But why?"

"He said 'security concerns.' I guess we'll find out soon enough," Chakotay said. "It is ironic though--that they have us returning to the exact place where this journey began eight years ago."

"Course is plotted and laid in, Captain," Tom said.

She nodded. Harry thought she still looked puzzled. "Commander Tuvok, are the proper authorization codes embedded?"

"Aye, Captain," Tuvok responded. "The message appears to be authentic..." While Tuvok spoke, Harry reran a piece of the message then shook his head. There was nothing wrong with the codes that he could see, or the transmission itself-- except for that brief flicker, not at all unusual considering the distance the message had traveled.

"Ship's status?" Janeway asked.

"All departments report ready," said Chakotay. "Well, this is it."

Three thousand light years in mere minutes...and they would be home in time for Christmas and Prixin.

"Lieutenant Paris, adjust our destination coordinates to one hundred kilometers from the Badlands. Prepare to engage the slipstream," Janeway said. "Open a ship-wide channel." Harry responded quickly. "I want to thank everyone for a job well done. For nearly eight years we have worked together--we've become more than just a crew, but a family as well." She smiled. "In less than three minutes we'll be back where this odyssey began: the Badlands. Not the calm arrival I'd expected. Everyone prepare for a rough ride, but we're going home." She motioned for Harry to cut the link. "Take us into the slipstream."

A light blinked on his console, "Captain--" Voyager was already entering into the slipstream tunnel. "--we're receiving another message..." He tried desperately to maintain a lock on the signal, but as Voyager's speed increased the lock destabilized.

"What does it say?" Janeway asked.

"'I'm sorry, Captain, but all I could get was the greeting. It was possibly a 'sensor echo' of Admiral Hayes' recent message." Voyager shuddered.

"We're approaching maximum velocity," Tom announced as the familiar white network of the slipstream conduit formed and enveloped them. "We'll be exiting the slipstream in two minutes ten seconds."

Act 1

Nunk grinned at the cute young, female Romulan officer nearby. He would pay good latinum to get *her* to rub his earlobes. The thought of oo- mox was most pleasant, but a stern look from Sub-Commander Virapl stopped him from actually approaching her. Maybe later when Virapl was not around. In the meantime, she continued to appear to ignore him, but he could tell she was interested. He came abruptly out of his dream of delight when Blont hit him on the shoulder.

"Brother, pay attention."

Nunk glared at his brother while he rubbed his left lobe himself. "I was. She's absolutely exquisite. Those long, sensuous fingers...?"

Blont grinned lasciviously. "Not so loud," he whispered.

"So, when do we get Voyager?" Nunk asked, still rubbing his lobe.

"The Sub-Commander has assured me that Voyager will arrive at the designated coordinates soon."

Nunk scowled and dropped his hand into his lap. "It's too bad that the original Borg female left the ship, she was most valuable."

"There are now two other Borg on board. One of them is female."

Nunk shook his head. "So you told me, but..." he stopped speaking as a Romulan centurion walked by.

"Sir," the officer said. "Voyager is exiting from the slipstream."

"Engage the cloak," Sub-Commander Virapl said. "And notify Sub-Commander Shopar he is to disable Voyager's weapons."

The centurion touched his fist to his chest in acknowledgment. Nunk rubbed his hands in expectation. "Millions in latinum."

"Oh, more than that my brother," Blont agreed, the lust in his eyes greater than it had been while discussing the Romulan female. "And this time Starfleet won't interfere."

"Sir," the female officer, Sub Lieutenant Parval called out. "Voyager has come to a stop."

Virapl glanced at the two Ferengi and then at the screen where the Federation vessel could be seen. He smiled. "Excellent. Our sources were correct."

"But Voyager's not moving!" Nunk said loudly. "She's been damaged!" This wasn't good. The ship was worth more, much more intact.

"No," Virapl's smile grew broader, and more feral. "The slipstream technology requires a lot of energy. They take several minutes to recover after exiting into normal space--many of their systems are down. Which provides us with the perfect opportunity."

#

"Report," Janeway said as Voyager came to a halt a hundred kilometers from the edge of the Badlands. The yellow and brown eddies were visible even at this distance. Ever since the near disastrous use of the slipstream just two-and-a-half months ago, they'd added a new protocol to their slipstream recovery, determine if they were in the correct time.

Harry grinned at her. "Captain, we're in the right place and time."

"But where's our date?" Tom added.

"There is no sign of the Enterprise or any ship," Tuvok replied. "But we only have short range scanners. They may be just beyond our scanning range."

"Any luck on recovering that second message?" she asked.

"Sorry, Captain. Most of the message was lost," Harry said. "But it was definitely from Admiral Hayes."

Janeway frowned. "But why would he send another message so close on the heels of the first one?"

"It was probably an echo of the first one," offered Tom.

Or maybe there was some important information he'd neglected to tell them, she thought, throwing a quick glance in Chakotay's direction. Either way, the lost message disturbed her. Despite having been able to improve their recovery time after emerging from the slipstream, there was still a few minutes when they were blind and helpless. And if there was anything she hated most of all, it was feeling vulnerable.

Her thoughts went back to that first message. Over the years she'd learned to pay attention to her instincts, and now they were telling her that something wasn't right. She frowned as she glanced at her console. They were exactly where Starfleet's message had ordered them, and where the Enterprise was to have met them. Could something have delayed the other vessel? Even though she was certain that Voyager was exactly where they were supposed to be, she said, "Tom, run a level one diagnostic on the navigation system."

"Aye, Captain," Tom answered. There was a long silence. "Diagnostic complete. Navigation is operating within standard parameters."

She started to stand, but Chakotay placed his hand on hers and gave her a reassuring smile. "Easy, Kathryn, they may have been delayed a little bit."

She smiled back, but it quickly faded. "Maintain yellow alert." She rose precipitously. "Something's not right."

As if to confirm her words, Harry suddenly said, "Captain, I'm detecting unusual tachyon radiation."

"Source?" Chakotay asked sharply.

"At a distance of 500 kilometers at heading six five one. It appears to be stationary."

The captain went over to the Ops station and leaned over his console. "It appears to be a localized naturally occurring phenomenon."

"That is one possibility, Captain," Tuvok said. "It could also be evidence of a cloaked Romulan vessel."

Janeway wheeled around and looked at him in surprise. "They're our allies, why would--"

"Captain," Tuvok interrupted. "The object is no longer stationary--it's heading straight toward us."

"Battle stations," the captain said immediately and returned to her seat. The corners of her mouth turned down. It appeared that alliance or not, some habits died hard--at least as far as the Romulans were concerned.

"There is a vessel decloaking off our port bow," Tuvok announced, even as a bright light engulfed Voyager. The ship shook violently.

"Return fire," Janeway ordered.

"Unable to comply. Weapons are offline," Tuvok said.

Damn the slipstream refractory period, she thought in a corner of her mind. That meant no warp capability either, in all likelihood. "Tom, heading zero thirty two maximum impulse." Straight into the Badlands.

"Out of the frying pan..." Chakotay said.

"And right into the fire," she whispered back. She raised her voice so she could be heard by the rest of the bridge crew, though Tuvok, with his acute hearing, had probably caught her aside to Chakotay. "Have you identified the ship?"

"Aye, Captain, it is a Romulan Battle Cruiser," Tuvok said.

Damn again, she thought. Why the hell hadn't Starfleet told them that the Romulans had broken the treaty? "Is the ship following?"

"It has recloaked," Tuvok answered. "Its bearing before it vanished would suggest that they have no intention of letting us get away."

"We'll be blind when we enter the Badlands," Chakotay said, stating the obvious.

"Not as blind as they will be, once Astrometrics comes back online." She glanced back toward Tuvok. "Weapons status?"

Tuvok's reply was unexpected. "They are offline." At her questioning glance, he said, "The Romulan ship used a myotronic-energy torpedo to disable our weapons."

Janeway stabbed at her comm panel. "Bridge to engineering--B'Elanna, how long till you can get the phasers and torpedoes back online?"

"I can't give you an estimate now, Captain," B'Elanna answered, frustration in her voice. "We'd just gotten them back up when that incoming blast fried the relays."

Janeway bit her lip. "Understood. Do the best you can, Lieutenant." She turned to Harry. "Send a message to Starfleet requesting assistance and notifying them where we are." Now there was something she hadn't been able to ask for in years--assistance from Starfleet. "Any sign of our pursuers?"

"Negative, Captain," Tuvok said. "Or so I surmise from the lack of any enemy weapon fire directed at us."

Her dismay grew as the yellow and brown clouds and eddies surrounded Voyager. Damn, she'd reset the coordinates to arrive outside the Badlands so they would avoid the storms. Voyager may have been designed for this, but during the slipstream refractory period, things were not normal. Voyager started to shake.

After several minutes had gone by with no further mishaps, Janeway didn't breathe a sigh of relief--it was too soon for that--but she did relax marginally. "Senior staff meeting in one hour--I want more than estimates on repair times. Commander Chakotay, weapons, warp engines and Astrometrics are our priorities. Lieutenant Paris, find us a nice hiding place."

"Aye, Captain," Tom replied. "Preferably one without displacement waves?"

She rolled her eyes. She'd known someone was going to remind her of the event that had started their adventure. "That would be ideal, Mr. Paris."

"Captain," Harry said. "The radiation is interfering with our ability to transmit a message."

#

Sub-Commander Shopar stood straighter as he gave the order to follow Voyager into the Badlands. Voyager's weapons were down. She would be easy to capture. The Khellian vibrated and the lights dimmed.

"Engage secondary shielding," Shopar said. "Do not lose that ship." Even as he spoke the image on the viewscreen wavered and was replaced with a blank screen.

"Sir," his second in command said. "We've lost them."

"All stop. I'll be in engineering." Shopar marched off the bridge. They couldn't move until they could navigate.

#

Jenny sat down on her bed and looked around. Despite the excitement of the past four hours, she'd finally been ordered to get some sleep. She looked around again. When she and Megan had first boarded Voyager they'd arrived with just two duffel bags apiece. She had in the past week packed three boxes of stuff they'd collected over the years, and there was still more to go. Including the contents of a small storage locker on deck eleven.

Where had it all come from?

She picked up the translucent-amber statue of an unidentifiable animal. She'd bought it from a merchant three weeks after their arrival in the DQ. It had been the first of many acquisitions. Each piece had significance, and she was reluctant to get rid of any of them. She put the statue back in the box, and decided that the nap she'd promised herself was better use of her time than packing. She only had a five hour break.

Jenny yawned, fighting another wave of exhaustion. The myotronic-energy torpedo had disrupted more than weapons. It had taken them almost two hours to repair the damage to Astrometrics. And the first sight to greet them after the system had come back online had been two decloaked Romulan ships hunting for them. Megan had said something about the energy required to use their cloaking devices was probably being rerouted to shields and sensors.

There was no sign of the Enterprise. Like most of her graduating class, she'd dreamed of serving on one day on Starfleet's most renowned vessel. But, she had to admit, life on Enterprise couldn't be anywhere near as exciting as serving on Voyager. Even if she was ready for a break. She lay down, even as she thought about her letter of acceptance for Command School.

Megan thought she was nuts...they might be identical twins, but they had vastly differing goals and aspirations. Megan was just tired of space travel.

She yawned again. "Computer, set alarm for zero two thirty."

#

Her bedroom was dark, but she could hear his breathing in the outer room. He had yet to come to bed. Not that she'd been sleeping either. She hadn't even bothered to take off her uniform.

"Chakotay? What's keeping you?"

A shadow appeared in the doorway. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

Sure enough, he came in not long afterwards. He stopped short and stared at her attire. "I thought you'd gone to bed."

"I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep." She tapped her combadge. "Janeway to bridge. What's the status of the two Romulan ships?"

"Unchanged."

"Maintain our position, Janeway out." She sighed. "We can't stay here much longer."

"No, but neither can they. Starfleet will be looking for us soon enough. We have better navigational abilities and our knowledge of the Badlands is superior to theirs. We'll outlast them."

"True..." Reluctantly, she brought up what was really bothering her. "How did the Romulans know where to find us?"

He shrugged. "Who knows. Our arrival wasn't a well kept secret. Maybe it's just a coincidence?"

"I don't believe in coincidences," she said. "They were right there waiting for us. Damn. I'll bet that second message..." The rest of her words were lost in a yawn. "Sorry."

"That second message was probably important--but you *need* to sleep." He yawned himself. "I'm ready to call it a night."

"What have you been working on? Something ship-related?"

He gave her an abashed smile. "My notes on the Sky People..."

"Ahhh. An interesting curiosity. We've met two cultures that have been influenced by this mysterious group, three if you include Earth." She smiled at him, glad for the chance to change the subject.

He returned the smile. "Very good, you may go to the head of the class." He glanced at the bed.

"I think instead I'll go to Astrometrics," she said apologetically.

"Kathryn..." He shook his head. "Then wait for me, I'll go with you."

Act 2

Tom glanced at his console, then back up at the screen. The two Romulan ships were persistent. For eight hours they'd been systematically hunting for Voyager.

One of blips moved. For the third time since they'd hidden, one of the ships headed in their general direction. He tensed as Harry announced the distance. The last time they'd come within ten kilometers before abruptly turning around and heading in another direction. To bad the radiation from the many plasma storms interfered with their ability to create a stable warp field.

"Lieutenant Paris," Janeway said softly, "Set a heading of zero zero three. Prepare to engage impulse engines."

"Aye, Captain." The ship continued approaching. This was not the homecoming he had hoped for his little girl.

"Engage impulse," Janeway said. "Maximum speed." Voyager was already moving when the Romulan ship fired. The ship trembled slightly from a glancing shot as they went deeper into the Badlands.

"Lucky shot, or do you suppose they've spotted us?" Janeway murmured under her breath.

The Romulan ship followed. "Guess that answers your question," Chakotay said.

"Prepare to fire," Janeway ordered. The screen image shimmered and went black.

"There's too much tetragonic energy," Harry called out. "Sensors are down."

"Targeting sensors are also down," Tuvok added. "Preparing to fire manually."

"Maybe theirs are down as well," Tom said.

"All stop," Janeway ordered. "Engineering, report!"

"Systems are overloading," Joe's voice said. "We're engaging dampening fields."

Tom grimaced slightly at Joe's voice. Where was B'Elanna? He started to ask, but was interrupted by his wife's voice.

"Captain, they hit the port nacelle. We won't be able to go to warp until we complete repairs."

"Captain," Tuvok said. "Shields are at seventy two percent."

The logical course, Tom knew, would be to send a message--but there was too much interference. The only other option would be to send someone for help.

"Captain," Tom said. "Let me take the Delta Flyer to go for help. We're not that far away from Deep Space Nine. She's small and fast. I can outrun the Romulan ships."

Janeway didn't take long to consider his proposal. "No," she said. "I'm not sending you out. The Delta Flyer was not designed for level 10 plasma storms."

"I know the Badlands, Captain," Tom said stubbornly. "I can avoid the really bad spots." He grinned suddenly. "This is exactly why I was brought along on this little trip in the first place."

"You knew the Badlands, past tense, Lieutenant," Janeway said. "In the past eight years, the plasma patterns are bound to have shifted. And the fact remains that Voyager was designed to maneuver in this environment, unlike the Flyer."

He took a deep breath. "With all due respect, Captain, can you come up with a better plan?"

She was silent. Tom knew there was no viable alternative.

Chakotay spoke up. "I'll go with him. He'll need a second pilot if he has to make his way to Deep Space Nine."

Janeway stared at him in surprise. Since their 'uncomfortable' association in the early days of the journey, Chakotay and Tom had learned to work together in more or less harmony. But she hadn't expected to hear Chakotay volunteer to go on such a dangerous mission with the man he'd once been deeply distrustful of.

Tom also seemed startled but he recovered more quickly and smiled impishly. "Two heads are better than one, eh, Commander?"

"Not until we first look at some other options," Janeway said firmly. "As soon as Astrometrics is back online, have them make a detailed map of the region." She sighed heavily. "You'll need it, if we can't find an alternative."

#

Sub-Commander Virapl turned angrily to his tactical officer as the Aehallh's sensors started to fade, again.

The young officer cowered slightly as he spoke. "Sub-Commander, we have entered a level 6 plasma storm. Engineering is trying to compensate."

"Have them stop trying and actually do something," Virapl snarled. "What has happened to Voyager?"

"They went deeper into the storm. Apparently, their ship is better equipped to handle the stresses. The Aehallh is a mere science vessel. We're unable to..."

"The Romulan Empire did not endure for millennia because it was unable to accomplish what needed to be done! I know the capabilities of this ship, do not tell me your suppositions. Our alliance with the Federation--" Virapl spat out, "--has made us weak." He struggled to regain his control. "Helm, set a heading of zero zero four. We're following them." That Federation ship was the key to his promotion. Failure was not an option.

The bridge crew carried out their orders without any more questioning looks. Nolqira had helped him select the crew for this mission, vouching for their loyalty and efficiency. Next time, he wouldn't accept Nolqira's help. He turned to look behind him and was annoyed to see the two Ferengi standing near the turbolift.

"I thought I'd ordered all non-essential personnel to remain in their quarters," he snarled.

"We're not 'non-essential'," Blont said condescendingly. "You wouldn't be here without our information..."

Virapl's hand moved slowly toward his disrupter. Ferengi were self-serving cowards. He may have been ordered to work with them until the mission was completed, but as far as he was concerned, their usefulness was long over.

Nunk tugged nervously on his brother's arm. "Very well, Sub-Commander," Blont said. "I can see you are doing *so* well without us."

Virapl turned away. The two Ferengi would not live to see the end of this mission. Nolqira had left explicit instructions for this--as well as the exact method. The Ferengi wanted to get their hands on Voyager's technology for their own nefarious purposes? It would be interesting to see how they would fare aboard one of Voyager's shuttles which would experience a sudden life support failure.

"Sub-Commander," Sub-Lieutenant Parval said. "The Khellian is contacting us. "

"Excellent." Virapl turned to face the screen. "Sub-Commander Shopar. Our quarry has moved deeper into the Badlands. We will need to flush them out. Proceed to our location and have the probes ready."

Sub-Commander Shopar acknowledged the order.

#

As soon as they entered the small room the Romulan Sub-Commander had designated their quarters, Blont raised his hand to strike his little brother. "You idiot! It's your fault we had to leave the bridge!"

"Don't hit me," Nunk whimpered. "He would have killed us..."

Blont shook his head. "No, we are still too important." His expression grew even more cunning than usual. " We haven't told them *everything* about Voyager."

Nunk relaxed. "That's right."

"Virapl may have been able to kick us off his bridge, but we will choose the moment of our departure from this venture," Blont said. "And with assets that will make us rich beyond our wildest dreams."

Nunk grinned. "We'll take that pretty Romulan female with us when we leave?"

"Brother," Blont once again considered hitting Nunk. "You really are stupid, aren't you? You will never succeed in business unless you learn to focus on the important things. This is exactly why our attempt to steal that Borg, Seven of..."

"Our attempt?" Nunk said indignantly. "You weren't even there. You weren't there as we fled the ships Starfleet sent to track us down. All you contributed was that hologram. And look what it got us. The damn thing turned on us."

"I had to flee too. I lost my contacts and my business because of your bumbling."

Nunk grimaced. "You mean you lost the business that should have been mine..."

"It's not my fault you don't have the lobes for business." Blont sat down on the one cot. "I'm going to get some sleep. See that our ship is secure. My faith in Virapl is diminishing." Their ship, the Avarice, was all that they had left after the disastrous attempt to steal the Borg woman more than a year earlier.

"I don't trust Virapl either," Nunk said, displaying a knack for stating the obvious once again. "He wants to kill us."

"I'm sure he does, but not until after Voyager is captured," Blont said, grimly holding on to what was left of his patience. "Now be quiet, I want to get some sleep..."

"I'm tired too..." Nunk said with an exaggerated sigh. He looked longingly at the cot, and then stretched out on the cold duranium floor. "Yes, brother."

"Nunk! The ship!" Blont said as he collapsed on the cot. "You can sleep later."

#

Joe stifled a yawn as he entered engineering. He stretched. He'd spent the past two hours crawling through the Jefferies tubes. "Do you know where Torres is?" he asked Vorik. "I stopped by her cabin but there was no answer."

"She is up there." Vorik pointed to the catwalk above their heads.

Joe shook his head. "Thanks." He couldn't believe that B'Elanna was still going strong. She needed sleep; she'd been on duty the six hours prior to entering the slipstream, and he suspected that she hadn't had a break since the Romulans had first attacked.

"Joe," she shouted down to him. "I'm glad you're here--Astrometrics is still experiencing power fluctuations."

He motioned for Vorik to deal with Astrometrics. "Lieutenant Torres, when did you last sleep?"

"I don't have time," she said tersely. "We have to get Voyager repaired..."

"I know." He started climbing the ladder. "But that doesn't answer my question."

"I don't know," she said, still refusing to look up from her work. "Twenty four hours or so. That's not important."

He grinned. Some things never changed. "Lieutenant, with all due respect, either you agree to go to sleep for four hours, or I do this the hard way."

"With my Klingon genes, my endurance is a lot higher than the rest of the engineering staff," she protested. "If anyone needs sleep, it's people like Nicoletti."

"True, but I know you have made sure that everyone else has gotten a few hours of sleep," he countered. "It's your turn now."

She glared at him as he continued, "My shift began after we exited the slipstream. So I've only been on duty for fifteen hours." No point telling her that he'd even though he'd been off duty, he hadn't been sleeping but instead standing in the mess hall with other crew members watching their progress in the slipstream.

Abruptly, she gave in. "Four hours. But that's all. Then *you* will take a break. And Joe, if anything happens while I'm resting, I need to be told right away." She glanced at the console. "See if you can find a way to cut through the radiation and get the sensors back to full capacity. We need to keep a better eye on those Romulan ships."

#

Tom entered their quarters and smiled at the sight that greeted him. B'Elanna was sprawled across the bed, sound asleep, with Miral cradled in her arms. Good, he thought, someone (most likely Joe) had convinced B'Elanna to take a break. Finally.

"Hi," B'Elanna said with a yawn. "What time is it?"

"Shh, go back to sleep," he said but was disappointed when her eyes opened more fully and she caught sight of the chronometer. Miral whimpered when B'Elanna moved to a sitting position.

"I need to get back to work," B'Elanna insisted.

"Not just yet. Why don't you try and get some more rest?"

"What are you doing back here?" she asked. "Is everything all right? What's going on?"

"The Romulans have moved off. For the moment." He took a deep breath. "My plan's been given the okay. Chakotay and I will take the Delta Flyer for help."

"Tom!" Miral started to cry. B'Elanna sat up and rocked the baby in her arms. "It's dangerous, and unnecessary. We'll get Voyager repaired, I know we can, and then we can all head toward Deep Space Nine."

"We're running out of time." Tom hesitated. "Harry is convinced that the second message was the real one. The first was just a decoy, to lead us to where we are now."

She sagged as Miral's crying subsided. "You're saying it was a trap? That the Romulans somehow planned this?"

"It certainly looks that way. There is no sign of any other Federation ship in the vicinity. So much for our planned rendezvous with the Enterprise." He leaned over and kissed her softly. "Don't worry about me."

B'Elanna closed her eyes. "Can't someone else go? Why does it always have to be you?"

"It goes with the territory of being the best pilot we've got. You know that."

"I know." She hesitated. "Tom...just be careful out there, all right?"

Tom winked. "I have to be. Just think what the Captain would do to me if her favorite first officer is injured. Losing a pip again would be the least of it!"

She forced a smile. "You might also want to remind Chakotay just what an angry Klingon is capable of--so he'd better take care of you." Her smile faded. "When are you leaving?"

"Not for another six hours. There's an Engineering team working right now to modify the Flyer so she can better withstand any plasma discharges--from the storms or the Romulans." He kissed her again. "I promise to be careful, if you promise to try and take a real nap." He took Miral from her. "And now, Daddy's little girl wants to spend some quality time with her old man."

He was pleased when B'Elanna nodded and sank back on the pillows with a sigh.

#

"We fought our way across the galaxy and now, at the moment of our triumphant return, I have to call Starfleet for help?" Janeway sighed. "Somehow, this isn't the way I imagined our homecoming."

"You weren't counting on being attacked by Romulans as soon as you showed up in the Alpha Quadrant," Chakotay pointed out reasonably.

"I just wish there was another way--that we could handle the repairs ourselves. God knows we did it often enough in the Delta Quadrant."

Chakotay looked up from his PADD, then placed it down on her desk. "Kathryn, we don't have a lot of choice. Even though it appears that we've shaken the Romulans for the moment, we'd be spotted again as soon as we start to move. And the port nacelle needs some external repairs. What Voyager really needs, is a long stretch in a spacedock."

"Why couldn't our luck have held out for a few more days," she grumbled softly. "And you are so sure the Delta Flyer won't be spotted?"

"She's smaller and more maneuverable." He chuckled. "At any rate, it's less likely that both ships will come after us. " He reached for her hand. "It *will* work."

"If you say 'trust me,' I'll send Jenkins instead," she warned him.

"Lora doesn't have enough hours clocked in the Delta Flyer." He was quiet for a moment. "You still have four hours to come up with a better plan."

She sat down in her chair and closed her eyes wearily. "And I'm trying to. Believe me, I am." She attempted to lighten the situation. "Honestly, I don't know what terrifies me more, the Romulans, or the thought of you flying in a shuttle."

He clasped his hands over his heart and sighed dramatically. "I'm hurt."

"You'd better not be, Commander, I'm warning you right now." She picked up one of the dozen PADDs in front of her. "Too bad the Zornon cloak won't work in the Badlands. It would go a long way to canceling their advantage over us."

"Remember, the plasma storms and intense ionization are also preventing the Romulans from using their cloaks."

She waved his words away. "But there's no way to tell if there are more cloaked ships waiting for us once we emerge from the Badlands."

He reached down and pulled her to her feet. "Stop being so pessimistic," he ordered, tilting her face up to his.

"I'm not pessimistic," she said with a huff. "I'm being...umm...thorough in my appraisal of everything that could possibly go wrong. It's about eight hours to Deep Space Nine--a lot can happen."

He shook his head. "Pessimist." He added, "Besides, the Enterprise is also out there."

"We don't know that," she said, her frown returning. "If Harry is right, that first message was completely bogus, intended to lure us here and put us off our guard."

Chakotay chuckled. "I'm sure Starfleet intelligence is going to love that--Harry also said all the security codes were properly embedded. I'd be more inclined to believe it was a legitimate message that was intercepted and only had a few modifications."

"If the Romulans intercepted the original and just made a few key changes...like where we were supposed to meet the Enterprise? Hell, she could be waiting for us near Jupiter, for all we know." She shook her head.

He laughed. "Come on, admit it. You just want to return under our own power."

"Of course. We fought tooth and nail to make it here, we deserve to fly to our destination, whether it's Deep Space Nine or Earth, without any help."

"The important thing is to get home safely," he reminded her. "Come on, Kathryn, we've come too far to let pride get in the way now."

"You're right, let's not make any mistakes now, not when we're so close." She sighed again. "Very well. I still don't like the idea, but I guess we don't have any other choice. But," she said sternly, "I want you and Tom to have at least four hours sleep before you leave."

"Aye, Captain..." he said with alacrity. He threw a quick glance toward the bedroom and held out his hand to her.

"Alone, Commander," she admonished. "You need to spend your time in bed *sleeping*."

#

Megan sipped the cup of whatever tea variety had been in the urn and stared at the plate of pasta covered with an unknown purplish sauce.

"Do we know what it is?" B'Elanna asked as she placed her own plate on the table and sat down across from Megan.

"Cold leftovers. Neelix shut down the kitchen," Megan replied. " If we're lucky, we'll run out of leftovers soon and have to eat ration bars."

B'Elanna chuckled as she took a tentative mouthful. "This isn't that bad. At least it doesn't have leola root in it."

"True," Megan responded. B'Elanna was right--no leola root was a definite improvement. It was just most of Neelix's cooking was better warm--and didn't improve on repetition. "So, did you get any sleep?"

"Some. My *husband* didn't wake me as he promised," B'Elanna replied, not wanting to admit that she had really needed the extra sleep. "Were there any problems while I was asleep?"

Megan shook her head. "No, unless you count another power fluctuation in Astrometrics."

B'Elanna's lips tightened. "I'll check into it right away." She started to rise.

Megan held up a hand. "All fixed. Joe came by and took care of it already."

Joe Carey was another one who had conspired to make sure she'd gotten enough rest. "Good," she said shortly. "What about that starchart? Is it ready?"

"All set and already uploaded into the Flyer's navigational system." Megan leaned back in her chair. "So have you given any consideration what you'll do when we return?" B'Elanna glanced at her in confusion at the sudden change in subject.

"Some," she said slowly. "I heard through my cousin that Utopia Planetia might be interested in me. I suppose they'll want me to explain all the Borg and other alien tech we've added to the ship." She took another forkful of pasta and chewed carefully. "What about you?"

"I haven't decided yet what I want to do, but Jenny's going to command school."

"Good for her." B'Elanna glanced around the full mess hall. "Starfleet has said remarkably little about the Maquis. I guess I'm just hoping we're just not tossed in jail."

"You'd think they'd have said something...anything by now," Megan agreed.

"Yes." B'Elanna raised her head. "By the way, you still have some stuff stored on deck eleven. You planning on packing it anytime soon?"

"Soon," Megan said sheepishly. "I have no idea where I'm going to put it when I get home. I suppose I should go through it and just throw out most of it." Megan seriously doubted she'd throw that much away, in all honesty. It was all stuff she had collected over their eight years in the DQ. "What about you? As I recall, one of those storage lockers belongs to your family. How much has Tom bought for Miral?"

"Too much. Between Tom and the rest of the crew, we have accumulated more things than can fit comfortably in our quarters. I believe you and Jenny are the most guilty of contributing," she added accusingly.

Megan smiled. "Hey...it was all for Miral."

Act 3

Tom glanced over at Chakotay as the commander sat down and gave his superior officer a quick thumb's up. "Delta Flyer to Voyager. We're ready for departure. Any last minute developments regarding the Romulans?"

::Their position is unchanged.:: Janeway's voice said. ::I'm expecting dinner at Deep Space Nine tomorrow night, Commander, at the best restaurant on the Promenade.::

"Aye, Captain," Chakotay responded. "I'll make sure they serve coffee."

Janeway chuckled. ::Not until we arrive on Earth. Opening docking bay doors. Good luck.::

"Let's do it," Chakotay said confidently. Tom nodded as he guided the Flyer out of Voyager.

The plan was to take advantage of the plasma eddies and electrical discharges in the Badlands to hide their escape. Once beyond the boundaries of the region, they would fly as fast as possible and hope like hell that the Romulans wanted Voyager more than they wanted to chase the Flyer. Tom glanced at the starchart on his display screen.

"So far, so good," he said softly to himself and then raised his voice. "Commander, the two Romulan ships don't seem to have noticed us--they're still heading in the opposite direction."

Chakotay shook his head. "Don't relax yet--we don't know if there are any other ships waiting for us."

"True." Tom frowned when the Flyer shook. "Damn. We're going to have to modify the course. The storms in this area are increasing." They both knew there was a fine balance between using the storms as a cover, and being caught up in their treacherous currents themselves.

"New course plotted," Chakotay acknowledged. He frowned as they headed for an area of clearer space. "Not much to hide behind here."

"We'll make it. I estimate forty five minutes before we leave the Badlands." Tom glanced around. "I can think of better places for a homecoming."

"I'll settle for a warm welcome. Or, at least, a warm meal."

Tom chuckled in agreement. The cold pasta which was all he'd had time for in lieu of breakfast would have been improved--marginally--with heat. And as for a warm welcome...

"We're heroes," Tom said, running through a minute series of navigational adjustments. "Starfleet isn't going to be so stupid as to throw us all in jail."

"Has your father said anything?" Chakotay asked, a little too casually.

"Not that I've heard," Tom said, wondering why Chakotay was asking. Sudden understanding dawned. "You mean the brass *still* haven't said anything to Janeway?" he said incredulously.

"Not a word."

He took a moment to digest the implications. "Well, after nearly eight years of being constantly on the go, a little down time would be nice," Tom drawled with the smart-ass grin he knew drove Chakotay up the wall. At the very least it should provide some distraction. He wasn't sure he wanted to get into a heart-to-heart with the commander. But Chakotay refused to take the bait. Resigned, Tom said, "So, do you have any plans?"

"For when we return?" Chakotay shook his head. "I'm in limbo until I know just what Starfleet is going to do with me."

"Do you want to stay in Starfleet?"

"If they'll have me? I don't know. For one thing, I've got no hope of advancement--I know I'll never be given command. You?"

"I'd love to stay on as a pilot," Tom said, trying not to let too much emotion seep into his words. "But I suppose I have a future as a holoprogramer," he added sardonically. "It would give me time to spend with B'Elanna and Miral. A work at home kind of job."

"You'll drive them and yourself crazy."

"Probably." Tom shrugged. "It may all be moot anyway. One good thing, Mom will raise Miral if we all land in jail."

Chakotay laid a comforting hand on Tom's shoulder. "It won't be that bad. Starfleet--"

"Starfleet is quagmired in bureaucracy," Tom snapped and twisted away. "Everything has to fit into a neat slot, but you know what? The Maquis, the Equinox-- hell, practically the entire crew--just don't fit into a nice little pigeonhole. And let me tell you, the brass don't like people or things that don't fit their definition of 'regular.'" Before B'Elanna, before Miral, he could easily claim he didn't care...Now he knew better--and suspected that everyone else did as well. He stabbed angrily at his controls. "Where the hell are the Romulans?"

Chakotay studied him for a second. "Still looking for Voyager. One ship has changed direction."

"Good," Tom hoped the Romulans left soon. They'd more than overstayed their welcome. He suspected their original plan had been to snatch Voyager and flee. Now the element of surprise was gone and with each passing hour, the chance of Voyager being able to elude them increased. Though why no one from Starfleet was looking for them as well was puzzling.

#

Virapl gritted his teeth. "What in the name of S'task is that!" he shouted. The tiny blip vanished again. It wasn't Voyager, so it shouldn't matter, but it was still a mystery. And Virapl did not like mysteries, particularly when he was on a sensitive--and so far frustrating--mission.

"As near as we can tell, it is merely a spatial anomaly," the centurion said. "It first appeared two minutes ago."

"An anomaly? I'd expect such a weak excuse from our Ferengi 'allies,'" he spat the word, "but NOT from a well trained officer of his Imperial Majesty's fleet. Plot a course to intercept and send a message to Sub-Commander Shopar that we are pursuing an unidentified vessel."

"Sub-Commander Virapl," an oily voice said from behind him. Virapl turned swiftly and felt his anger reach the boiling point.

"You were ordered to remain off the bridge," he snapped at the Ferengi.

"Yes," Blont said with a sickening smile. "But I heard that a ship had been spotted."

Virapl wondered just how Blont had heard. He would have security scour the ship for any hidden listening devices. "How..."

Blont raised a hand, "That's not important. The ship is probably the Delta Flyer."

"Delta Flyer? I don't recognize the name."

"It's a small shuttle designed and built by Voyager's crew." Blont walked over to the console and took a quick glance. "Ahhh. Yes. No doubt about it--Voyager is probably more damaged than we thought if they are sending the Delta Flyer for help."

"And there is a reason you didn't tell us about this shuttle?" Virapl asked.

Blont shrugged. "I did not realize such knowledge would be important. It wasn't part of our original deal."

"Sub-Commander," the centurion said from the helm. "The *supposed* shuttle is on a heading for Deep Space Nine."

Virapl made a quick decision. He might not like Blont, but he had to admit, unfortunately, that the two Ferengi did know more about Voyager. "Break off our search for Voyager. Shopar will have to manage on his own. Plot an intercept course, warp five. Prepare to engage the cloak once we are free of the Badlands." He looked scornfully at the Ferengi. "And remove this vermin from my sight."

As he leaned back and watched his bridge crew scramble to obey his orders, Virapl added a few more items to his growing list of complaints about this mission. The shadowy Tal Shiar agent, Nolqira, had made many promises, but so far Voyager had eluded easy capture. If they didn't find the Federation vessel soon, the mission would be a failure--and there was only one conclusion in that case.

The one consolation was that the Ferengi brothers would die with him.

#

Tom slowed the Flyer as they approached the edge of the Badlands. "Any sign of the Romulans?" He didn't expect a positive response. The sensors had been intermittently affected by the storms.

Chakotay shook his head. "No. Too much ionization--it's interfering with our sensors."

"Theirs, too, I hope." Tom gestured at the screen, where the boundary to clearer space was rapidly growing closer. "Well, shall we?" Tom was glad to see clear space. The plasma storms seemed to affect every system on the ship and made going to warp impossible. The sooner they were out of the Badlands, the faster they would get to Deep Space Nine, and the sooner they could bring help.

Tom accelerated the Flyer so that when they were free of the last plasma storm, they would be traveling at warp two. The ionization decreased exponentially as they made their way out of the Badlands. Chakotay grumbled as he adjusted the settings. One of the lights on the board started to flash.

"I've found Voyager...and one of the Romulan ships," Chakotay said quietly, staring at the data readout. "It's about one hundred kilometers from Voyager." Tom relaxed slightly. For now at least, Voyager was still intact and her hiding place hadn't been discovered.

"What about the other one?"

"No sign. Adjusting scanning range."

Tom tensed as he banked the Delta Flyer sharply to the starboard side just as they exited the Badlands.

"What are you doing?" Chakotay demanded.

"Evasive maneuvers," Tom said tersely.

"I didn't order you to do that--"

"My instincts did. We're missing one ship, Commander. If the damn thing is cloaked, it could be practically on top of us, and we wouldn't have a clue. All I know is, I've got a bad feeling about this." Tom seriously considered taking the Flyer back into the Badlands and trying to exit at another point.

"Scanning for tachyon...You're right, Tom!" Chakotay exclaimed. "Romulan ship decloaking less than 50 kilometers off our port bow."

Tom's response was to increase their speed--shields were already at maximum. He started flying an erratic course hoping to avoid incoming weapons. "Can we send a message?"

"No. They're jamming us." Chakotay flicked a switch. "Weapons are ready."

"Won't do any good," Tom mumbled. They both knew that. He smiled grimly and adjusted his course.

"Tom, what the hell do you think you're going?" Chakotay asked as he noted their new heading. "Not only is that the opposite direction of where we're trying to get to, but there's a massive asteroid field in our path!"

"That's right," Tom said, keeping his attention focused on his navigation console, with only an occasional glance at the viewscreen. "They'd be fools to follow us in, now wouldn't they?"

"True," Chakotay replied, "But the odds..." Whatever he was going to say was cut off by a blinding flash of light. The Flyer shook violently as it was hit by a cloud of small pebbles. Tom swore under his breath as he fought to retain control of the spinning shuttle. Nearby, a console sparked.

"Stabilize the shields," he shouted. There was no response. Tom's swearing increased as he wasted precious seconds reaching out and activating the controls himself. Only then did he hazard a glance at Chakotay.

Tom's heart sank. The commander lay on the floor, a huge gash on his head. The blood was flowing freely. "Damn. Damn. I don't have time for this!" There was a second blast as the Flyer came a little too close to a second asteroid. Maybe he could have avoided that one if he hadn't been distracted by Chakotay's condition. "Computer, send a distress signal."

::Unable to comply. The comm system is inoperable.::

He gritted his teeth as he rolled the Flyer to avoid yet another large asteroid. Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea after all...he'd have to reduce speed if they were going to avoid any more near-collisions. A glance at the position of the Romulan vessel, rapidly gaining on the Flyer, made him change his mind. "Just going to have to wing it and hope for the best," he muttered.

The asteroid blew up.

The reason for the explosion quickly became apparent. The Romulan ship did not want to risk losing sight of its quarry and was simply firing at everything in its path. The shuttle vibrated violently as the smaller rocks--debris from the explosions--hit the ship. Tom grimaced as he sharply dropped the Flyer till it was level with the underside of a particularly large asteroid, then immediately banked the Flyer starboard. The asteroid surface was deeply pitted with countless craters. He smiled at the sight of one such crater which looked to be approximately six kilometers in diameter. "Well Commander, I don't know about you, but I don't feel like being pulverized. Not just yet." He brought the Flyer about, till they were just at the entrance to the tunnel, then cut the engines almost immediately. As expected, the shuttle glided in smoothly and came to a halt.

"I always was good at hide-and-seek," he said with some measure of satisfaction. Now if only the Romulans would get tired of the game first--or with any luck, have an unfortunate encounter with an asteroid.

His satisfaction faded as he turned his attention to the commander, who was still unconscious. At least he was breathing. "Damn you, Chakotay. I'm a pilot, not a doctor." He grabbed the medkit under his seat and pulled out the tricorder.

#

Virapl's brow furrowed in consternation. "I want that shuttle! I don't care if you have to blow up every asteroid to find it!"

"Aye, Sub-Commander," came the immediate response. Virapl sat down in his command chair. He needed to appear calm, and concentrate on the mission. The Delta Flyer had to be destroyed quickly--they couldn't risk allowing the shuttle the chance to bring help. As it was, Voyager had eluded them for over twenty-two hours. The Badlands might be far away from most of civilization, but with each passing hour the odds increased that that a random patrol ship would discover the Romulan presence.

Dimly, he was aware of a steady series of explosions, each one followed by a shower of debris, as the crew proceeded to take their sub-commander at his word and destroy every asteroid that could possibly be concealing the Delta Flyer. But the shuttle refused to reveal itself.

He debated canceling the mission. Nolqira had said this was not an option, but Nolqira had been wrong about almost everything else.

There was no choice. Virapl stared at the viewscreen as his ship's phasers destroyed yet another asteroid. "Any sign of metal alloys or organic materials in the debris?" he asked. He tensed as his science officer answered.

"No, Sub-Commander." The young man hesitated, clearly afraid to speak his next words. "We've lost them, sir."

#

Blont shook his head at the images coming in from the bridge, then shoved his brother away from the computer monitor in their quarters. "You know I don't like it when you watch over my shoulder."

Nunk growled as he picked himself off the floor. "Sub-Commander Virapl has failed--the Delta Flyer is still at large. Do we know what is happening with Shopar's ship?"

Blont shook his head. "Virapl has tried several times to communicate with him, unsuccessfully. Doubtless the plasma storms are interfering with communications."

"Nolqira made a poor choice when he selected Virapl to head this mission," Nunk sniffed. "Virapl has ignored us--or been unaccountably rude--since this mission began."

"True." Blont shut the image off, convinced that there was nothing more to be learned. "What about our ship?"

"Virapl has placed guards in the docking bay, but..." Nunk lifted his tunic to show a small metal container. "That shouldn't be a problem." He smiled, showing his overly large teeth. "And I was able to install the cloaking device. We're set to leave whenever you wish."

"Excellent." Blont considered their options. "Another half hour, I think." He patted the bag at his feet. "Even in the worst of deals, a shrewd trader can still manage to turn a profit. As an additional 'insurance policy', we'll gas the crew and then leave."

"At least this mission will not be a total waste," Nunk agreed, greedily eyeing the bag. He cringed when he noticed Blont looking at him. He hastily added, "But perhaps we should leave now? I don't trust Virapl."

"I don't trust him either." Blont glanced around the room. "Maybe we should leave now?"

Nunk didn't bother to answer the question he'd just asked himself a second earlier.

#

Harry ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "Captain, I still can't locate the second Romulan ship."

She stopped at his console and looked at the readout. "Did they go after the Flyer?"

He grimaced. It was a logical question.

"I don't know. They vanished soon after the Flyer departed. The storms are intensifying. Long range scans are barely functional. I am unable to contact the Flyer either."

"We knew from the outset that interference from the plasma storms would interfere with subspace communication," Tuvok pointed out.

"The Flyer will be all right, Harry," Janeway said as she laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. He didn't know who she was trying to reassure--him, or herself. "If anyone can get through this, it's Tom. He's the best pilot we have."

"I know..." He closed his eyes. "We could try diverting more power to scans. It would also help tracking the other Romulan ship."

Janeway shook her head regretfully. "We've already cut back on too many systems."

Harry started to answer, but he noticed a flash on the console image. He quickly transferred the image to the main viewscreen.

"Captain, sensors are detecting explosions just beyond the Badlands."

"Is it the Flyer?" she asked, her voice absolutely flat, with no inflection whatsoever.

"Can't tell." Harry replied. It was about where they expected the Delta Flyer to be. The image wavered as one of the many plasma storms flared.

#

Tom bent over Chakotay's prone form and injected a hypo, then took another hasty scan. There was no change.

"Damn it, Chakotay. You can't go and die on me. B'Elanna will kill me--and that's before she gives me to the Captain."

"Lieutenant," a faint voice said. "Next time I'm flying."

Tom laughed shakily in relief. "Whatever you say, Commander. It's about time you decided to wake up."

Chakotay raised a hand to his head and encountered the rough dermaseal wrappings. "My head hurts."

"That's because you have quite a gash underneath that bandage, Commander, and I'll thank you not to disturb my handiwork. You've sustained a pretty major concussion."

"Any other injuries?"

"Aside from a sprained wrist and a few contusions on your face and neck, that's about it." He added, "You were pretty lucky. You took the full force of the blast when the console in front of you blew."

Chakotay winced. "What did you do, plow into an asteroid?"

"Something like that." At Chakotay's confused look, Tom added, "I took us inside one of the larger asteroids, hoping to throw the Romulans off our trail."

The proximity sensors beeped again.

"Damn. Looks like they're still out there." He gave Chakotay a speculative glance. "If you're up to it, I could use your help."

"I'm fine." Chakotay's pained expression belied his words as he heaved himself into his seat. "Just tell me what you want me to do."

Tom sat down in the pilot's chair and ignited the engines. The Romulans were being incredibly stubborn. And efficient. He figured he had approximately five minutes before the Romulans blasted their asteroid shelter.

And even less time once he lifted off.

#

Virapl closed his link to his security officer. He wanted the two Ferengi thrown in the brig. It would make getting rid of them easier. Virapl was sure Nolqira wouldn't object if he modified the Tal Shiar officer's plan for eliminating the two brothers to fit the changing circumstances. He opened his mouth to give the order to pull back from their present position.

"Sub-Commander, we have found the Delta Flyer!"

All thoughts of retreat and failure vanished at once. Virapl smiled at the sight of the little ship lifting off from the asteroid. "Lock disrupters on target and prepare to fire..."

::Security to bridge::

"What is it?" Virapl said, annoyed. He wanted to savor this moment, when the elusive prey was finally in his grasp.

::The two Ferengi are missing.::

"What about their ship?" Virapl demanded.

"Still in the hold. Security has a team waiting there."

"Excellent." Virapl paused for a moment. He sniffed--noticing a faint but peculiar odor. All at once, it struck him what was going on. "Vent the bridge!!" he shouted. "Security!" There was no answer. "Centurion! Vent the ship." The odor was getting stronger.

As if from a distance, he heard a faint voice say, "Sir, the Ferengi ship is preparing to leave. They have overridden our security codes."

Virapl swore loudly, or tried to. "Track them," he croaked. We'll pursue them after we destroy the Delta Flyer, he thought, though he had to fight to stay conscious. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his comm officer collapse at her station. The other three bridge officers showed signs of impending collapse as well. He closed his eyes to control his increasing dizziness. "Vent the..."

#

Blont grinned as he closed the door to the little ship then pulled the breather mask off his face. "Brother, strap yourself in."

Nunk sat down quickly as he too yanked off his mask, wincing as the strap caught on his ears. "We have to hurry..."

"Yes," Blont said calmly--more calmly than he felt. The engines sputtered to life. "Prepare to engage the cloak."

Nunk was visibly relieved when the computer acknowledged that the cloak was functional. Blont was too, but decided not to let his brother know that. As the Avarice flew toward the exit, the large shuttlebay doors opened on cue. They plunged into open space.

"Look, Blont, there's the Delta Flyer," Nunk pointed excitedly at the console. The Flyer was heading out of the asteroid field; Virapl's ship quickly followed.

Blont shook his head and instead of trailing the other ships guided the Avarice behind a large asteroid. "Let the Romulan fool try and capture that ship, if he's awake enough to manage the job." They both laughed. "We have other pressing matters to attend to--namely calculating just how much profit we have made from the items we have 'appropriated' from Virapl's ship."

"Ferengi are not responsible for the stupidity of other races," Nunk agreed. His face fell. "If only we could we have brought the Romulan female."

#

Tom banked the Flyer sharply just as the Romulan ship fired.

"Prepare to return fire," Tom said, as he again rolled the ship, this time bringing her up under the bigger ship. "Aim for the engines." At best it might slow them down.

Chakotay grunted, and fired a second later. The Romulan ship slowly turned in pursuit, but then stopped.

"Not that I'm complaining, but why haven't they fired again?" Tom asked.

"Sensors show a build up of--this can't be right, methoxypentothiazine gas throughout the Romulan ship," Chakotay said. "That's an anesthetic, isn't it?"

"I think so. An older one. Curious." Tom bit his lip. "Are you reading any life signs?"

"Thirty life signs. Most are unconscious. It looks like a few individuals in engineering may still be conscious, or at least not affected as heavily."

"Which means at least some of the Romulans are still alive and kicking."

"We aren't out of this yet," Chakotay agreed. "Shall we be on our way?"

Tom started to key in the commands and then paused. "Not so fast, Chakotay. How would you like to bring home a Romulan ship?"

"Sorry, I must be experiencing some residuals from my concussion. I could have sworn I heard you say you wanted to go after that Romulan ship."

"I can't vouch for your overall state of mind, but there's nothing wrong with your hearing, Chakotay. That's exactly what I said."

"Tom..."

"Come on, Chakotay. It will give me a chance to fly a Romulan ship--it isn't a Bird of Prey, I admit, but not many Starfleet officers have flown any Romulan ship. Then we go rescue Voyager--it will be faster than flying to Deep Space Nine."

Chakotay slowly smiled, clearly appreciating the irony of sneaking up on the Romulans in one of their own vessels. "You're on."

Act 4

B'Elanna declined the offered chair. "Captain, our situation is not good. In fact, I'd say we're reaching critical levels."

Janeway knew this. The past few hours had seen a steady decline in power levels, with fluctuations and outages becoming increasingly common. "What's the status of the dilithium crystals?"

"We've started the recrystalization process, but it's slow going--and we're running on half the normal amount. That energy beam the Romulans hit us with in the first attack did more damage than we initially realized."

The captain got up and began pacing around the room. They'd been so relieved to find more dilithium as well as kolander in the most recent mining mission right before the final slipstream jump--until they'd discovered that the crystal lattice was flawed and couldn't hold a stable energy beam. But there was no sense wasting regrets on the past. They'd just have to make do with what they had.

B'Elanna frowned, clearly thinking along the same lines. "We need to cut power even more."

"Lieutenant, we're already running with minimal systems," Janeway objected. "Practically the only thing we haven't cut is life support."

"I know. We can lower the ship's temperature by an additional fifteen degrees. And blackout all nonessential decks--including crew quarters. Neelix is already moving emergency ration kits to the mess hall."

Tuvok's standard evacuation drill--presupposing a disaster that rendered fully half the ship uninhabitable--would come in handy. "All right, then, do it. What's the status of our weapons?"

"We have phasers and photon torpedoes, but I'd like to drain the energy from the phaser banks back into our reserves--it will give us an extra hour or two..." B'Elanna shifted her weight uneasily.

They wouldn't be entirely defenseless; they'd still have the torpedoes. But the captain was still not happy with the choice. "As a last resort. How long do we really have, B'Elanna?"

"Ten hours. Eleven or twelve if we take the phasers offline."

"And if we fire up the engines to try to get out of here?"

"Five."

"Do what you can. We're going to need at least thrusters to get away." Janeway suddenly smiled. "And I have an idea."

#

Tom clipped the extra phaser to his belt and held the large rifle at the ready. "I'm ready, sir." He placed the breather mask over his face.

Chakotay rubbed his head, careful not to disturb the healing wound. "I'll beam you out at the first sign of trouble. Don't do anything foolish."

"Have you ever known me to do something foolish?" Tom quickly added, "Don't answer that."

Chakotay rolled his eyes. Tom grinned as he was transported to the Romulan ship. Sensors showed that there were several conscious Romulans in engineering. He'd have to take care of them first.

He ran a quick scan on the first Romulan he came across. "Sleeping on duty," he muttered. "Well, this will teach you." He adjusted the controls to get a reading on the air. There was still a high concentration of the anesthetic.

#

B'Elanna glanced at Joe who nodded. "Engineering teams standing by," he said. "We're ready."

"Very good," B'Elanna said, with a confidence she did not feel. "Engineering to bridge. Preparing to cut power to all nonessential decks."

::Proceed. Transfer all power to shields, propulsion, and weapons::

"Aye, Captain." B'Elanna motioned to her staff. "All teams, status?" She ticked off each report as they came in.

"Lieutenant Torres?" a voice said from behind her.

"Sarexa? Your shift ended two hours ago," B'Elanna said, surprised at seeing the Talaxian.

"I thought maybe you could use an extra pair of hands," Sarexa said.

"We sure can. You can work with Vorik on monitoring the dilithium recrystalization process. If the matrix disintegrates even three percent more, we'll be in real trouble."

Sarexa nodded and immediately set to work.

B'Elanna ran her hand across her brow. "Borg, Kazon, Hirogen...and now Romulans. Never a dull moment around here." The monitor light stopped blinking "Engineering to bridge. Power levels have stabilized."

#

Nunk slapped his brother enthusiastically on the back, then pulled away from Blont to avoid any retaliatory blows in return. "We did it. Well, we almost did. But even if the Romulans manage to capture Voyager now, it's too late for us to get our hands on those Borg nanoprobes."

"The Romulans will not capture Voyager," Blont said confidently. Oddly, he didn't seem to be upset. "The hew-mons have a saying about counting ducks before they hatch. But I have an idea..."

Nunk winced. Whenever Blont got that look in his eye, Nunk knew it meant trouble. "We have enough..."

"This is why you don't have the lobes for business. You're too quick to turn your back on a promising venture." Blont leaned back in his chair. "Voyager will go to Deep Space Nine. They will believe that the Romulans were responsible, not us."

"I don't see how--"

"If at first you don't succeed, try, try again."

"I can quote the rules of Acquisition too," Nunk snarled. "Never spend more..."

"You idiot--what I meant is that Voyager is not yet out of our reach. We will have the opportunity to try again."

Nunk blanched. "But...if the Romulans couldn't capture her when she was isolated in the Badlands, how can we hope to--"

"The riskier the road, the greater the profit. This is why I'm in charge." Blont glanced toward the back of their ship, to the 'appropriated' equipment . "Perhaps..."

Nunk didn't want to be part of Blont's newest plan--did he? He glanced back at the same pile of equipment they'd stolen from the Romulans. "Perhaps what?"

Blont leapt in. "Perhaps we can make another attempt at Deep Space Nine."

"Surrounded by Bajoran and Federation security? We'd be idiots to try to steal Voyager." As terrified as he was of his brother, Nunk was even more afraid of the scheme Blont was concocting.

"Not the ship itself--that might be a bit too much," Blont conceded. "But we could try kidnapping one of the Borg. The boy or the female. Maybe even both. The hew-mans hate and fear the Borg--they won't object if one of the drones goes missing." Blont smacked his lips (an annoying habit, Nunk thought). "Set a course for Deep Space Nine."

"But..." Nunk's voice trailed off and he obediently set in the course.

#

"Commander," Tom said quietly over his comm badge. "I'm just outside of engineering. What's our status?"

::There are no other ships on sensors. That's the good news.::

"What's the bad news?" Tom asked, though he wasn't sure he really wanted to know.

::The anesthetic levels are leveling off. The crew should start waking up in a couple of hours::

"Well, then I'll have to hurry. Paris out." He passed the tricorder over a console, then keyed in a few commands.

:: Not so fast, Tom. Be careful::

Tom halted for a moment, surprised at the concern in Chakotay's voice. "I'll open the docking bay for you in a few minutes. It will be a tight fit. Don't scratch my ship."

::Your ship is in good hands, Lieutenant--mine.::

"That's what I'm worried about," Tom muttered to himself as he broke the link. He checked once more to make sure the phaser rifle was set on stun. He entered a few more commands into the console and the engineering door slid open.

The five Romulan engineers didn't notice him immediately as he slipped in or else were too busy to take any action.

One of them shouted something. Through his Universal Translator, Tom caught the word "core." At the same moment he recognized what they were doing-- they were trying to blow the warp core. Damn. So much for taking them quietly. He fired three shots, each of which found its mark, but the other two engineers ducked behind consoles and returned fire.

"Commander," Tom said quickly as he fired back and ducked himself. "The ones in engineering were a little livelier than we bargained for. They're attempting to detonate the warp core."

"Do you want me to beam you out of there?"

"No, I have everything under control..." He fired twice at one of the Romulans. "Or will soon."

"What about the warp core?"

"I think I stopped them before they could complete the cycle...Hang on." Tom fired at the head he saw emerging from behind a bulkhead. "Got him! Commander. How are the readings on the warp core?"

"Within normal ranges. Tom, hurry up. The ship is starting to drift toward the asteroid field."

Tom grimaced. "I'll hurry then. Any other conscious Romulans?"

"Just the one coming around to your right."

"Ahh. Thanks." Tom smiled grimly and fired again, but the Romulan swerved away. Trying to sneak up on me, he thought. He aimed for a gap in the equipment and waited and watched.

At last there was a hint of movement. "Rakh'orhe!" the Romulan shouted as he charged. Tom fired and saw the engineer drop in his tracks.

"I'm on my way to the bridge," Tom said as he stood.

"Better make it fast..." There was a thud and the Romulan ship shook.

"I'm running now." Tom bolted out the door.

#

::The Flyer is secure,:: Chakotay's voice said.

"I'm setting a course back to Voyager." Tom entered some numbers into the Romulan navigation console quickly as another small rock hit the ship. "New course is plotted." He sat down as the ship started to turn away from the asteroids. "How's it coming down there?"

"How did I get stuck with securing the crew?"

Tom grinned as the ship started to turn. "Because I'm the one who wanted the opportunity to fly a Romulan vessel." He stopped and checked a reading. "Transporters are on line. You can start beaming the crew into the brig."

::Will do. What's our ETA back at the Badlands?::

"We should be there in forty five minutes."

#

Sub Commander Shopar entered the bridge. "Status?" he roared.

"Voyager has engaged thrusters. They are trying to flee us," the centurion said.

"Pursue them. Ready another myotronic-energy torpedo and prepare to fire on my command."

#

B'Elanna stepped on the bridge and pulled the jacket she was wearing tighter. "We're ready, Captain," she said.

"Good." Janeway said with a quick glance around the bridge. "We can only afford two shots." She turned to the Tactical station. "Are you ready, Commander?"

"The photon torpedoes are primed and loaded in the launching bays," Tuvok said. "Captain, I must warn you that our shields are at 73.4 percent. They will not withstand a sustained volley."

"I know, but we can't wait any longer."

"Romulan vessel is pursuing," Harry said. "They'll be within weapons range in two minutes."

"Lieutenant Jenkins, set a course two one three."

"Course set, Captain," Lora said.

"Romulans have changed course to intercept us in one point three minutes."

"On screen," Janeway said. "Prepare to fire on my command."

No one spoke as they watched the Romulan ship continue to approach. Janeway took a deep breath. "Adjust course to two two two mark five." Now, if only the Romulans failed to recognize the danger they were flying straight toward.

"The Romulans are within firing range," Tuvok said.

"They are powering weapons," Harry added.

"Fire," Janeway said. Both torpedoes streaked outward--the first hit the Romulan ship, the second ignited the whirling phosphosulfohydronic gas in the nearby vicinity.

"Helm, maximum impulse and get us out of here," Janeway said. "Divert power to the shields." The exploding gas cloud was heading straight toward them.

She watched with growing trepidation as the ball of burning orange and white gasses sped toward Voyager. "All hands, brace for impact." she ordered seconds before the ball hit. Voyager shook violently, sending her flying to the floor. She sat up, noting that several of the bridge crew were also on the floor. The ops station sparked. "Status?"

"Captain," Tuvok said calmly. "We have cleared the Badlands."

She started to sigh with relief, but bit it back at Harry's next words.

"Captain," Harry said, his voice full of alarm. "I'm detecting a tachyon burst straight ahead." He added what they were all thinking--it was in all likelihood a cloaked Romulan vessel.

Epilogue

Chakotay shook his head and looked up from the image of Voyager under attack. "What are they doing?"

Tom didn't look back. "I'm not sure...What was that?" he asked as the edge of the Badlands exploded.

"Voyager?" Chakotay tried to control his rising panic.

"Scanners are unable to penetrate...wait. Commander, look!" Both men relaxed at the sight of Voyager exiting the Badlands. "The ship is intact--and it doesn't look like they're being pursued. Shall I hail them?"

"Of course. Voyager, come in..." There was silence. Chakotay tried again.

#

"Captain, we're being hailed," Harry said.

"By whom?" Janeway asked, hoping against hope that the Enterprise had finally chosen to make an appearance. But the only vessel in the vicinity appeared to be the Romulan vessel. Maybe they were being contacted with terms of surrender. At that instant the Romulan vessel decloaked.

::Commander Chakotay to Voyager::

She didn't stop to ask how Chakotay had taken control of the Romulan ship. "Commander, it's good to hear your voice."

:: Not as good as it is to hear yours, Captain. We're here to rescue you--but I see we're a bit late.::

"I recall saying earlier that I prefer to make my entrance at Deep Space Nine under my own power."

He chuckled appreciatively. :: Well, maybe you can help me out, Captain. I need a full security team beamed aboard. We have thirty sleeping Romulan prisoners.::

"Sleeping?"

:: Someone apparently released an anesthetic into the ventilation ducts of the ship. We've vented most of it, and the Romulan crew should be regaining consciousness soon.::

"Commander Tuvok, take a security team over," Janeway ordered. "Beam the ship's captain to our brig."

"Aye, Captain." Tuvok said as he left.

"Captain, I'm detecting a ship on long range sensors," Harry said.

"Not another Romulan vessel, I hope?" the captain said.

"No. Captain, it's the Enterprise. They are hailing us."

#

Idiots. They were all idiots. He was surrounded by idiots. How could Virapl have been so bloody stupid to survive the mission. The Federation was furious, and of course, the Romulan government was making absurd statements about finding the culprits.

At least Shopar had the decency to obey orders. The Tal Shiar agent, Nolqira knew that wasn't much of a consolation. He turned as his computer announced an incoming message. He was surprised, since no one knew where he was.

"Senator Ralurm."

"Nolqira. I'm sure you heard."

He just nodded, her smile made him nervous.

"Good. You see, Senator Mykar has promised a complete investigation. He suspects my involvement."

Nolqira laughed. "I understand, Senator *Dha'rudh*--" he spat out the insult, "--but he doesn't know about me."

He stopped laughing as her smile grew. "I wouldn't be so sure." The screen went blank. Nolqira stared at it for several seconds. He had to disappear sooner than planned. He sat down and opened the bottom drawer of his desk, then activated a hidden button. A small drawer clicked open. He picked up the document that lay there and replaced it with his old identification card.

There was a crashing sound just outside the door followed by the door being blown inward. He ducked.

Six Romulan security officers rushed in. "Agent Nolqira?"

"No. I don't know anyone by that name." Nolqira smiled politely as he closed the drawer by leaning against it.

"You are under arrest by order of his Imperial Majesty," the sub- commander said.

"I'm sure there must be some mistake," he said as he stepped forward.

"Agent Nolqira, there is no mistake. You are under arrest for treason." The sub-commander motioned two of his soldiers forward.

#

Janeway glanced around the transporter room as she entered and then nodded to Harry. This wasn't quite how she'd envisioned this moment--the ship was badly damaged, the temperature was too low for comfort--but the fact remained that they had done it. She took a quick look at the assembled senior staff. Chakotay gave her a smile and moved to her side.

The Doctor moved away from Harry, armed with his holo-camera: he'd insisted this moment needed to be preserved for posterity. No one had argued.

The transporter shimmered, and several forms appeared. Commander William Riker stepped off the pad. More than anything that had happened to date, the sight of the Enterprise away team brought home the fact that Voyager had finally made it to the end of her journey.

Janeway smiled, happier than she had been for some time. No, happy was not quite the right word. Relieved. She was relieved that she had finally kept her promise to bring her crew home. For some reason it was all she could do not to start crying. Harry wiped his eyes, even Chakotay seemed misty eyed.

Riker shook Janeway's hand. "Welcome home, Captain."

"Thank you. It's good to be home." She glanced at his collar and silently counted the number of pips. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, Commander, but where's Captain Picard? Or don't we rate being met by the captain of the flagship?" she said with a grin.

"You definitely rate, Captain, believe me. Captain Picard is furious--but he was on leave back at Earth when our orders came to meet you at Deep Space Nine. What are you doing out here anyway? The word was that you were going to emerge from slipstream and proceed directly to Deep Space Nine."

"It's a long story," Janeway said.

"And I take it the Romulans are involved?" Riker asked shrewdly.

"The evidence certainly points that way," Janeway said, "considering that they had two ships waiting for us as soon as we exited into normal space. "

"I'm sure Starfleet will be making full inquiries into the matter." "So," Riker said as he shook Tom's hand. "I hear you're the one who captured the Romulan ship."

"Yes, sir. Commander Chakotay helped."

"Good job. Now, is there anything I can do for you, Captain Janeway? The Enterprise is at your service."

"We have some repairs to complete, before we can get underway. Lieutenant Torres has a list of materials that we need."

"I'll send our chief engineer over. Lieutenant Commander Stone wants to see all this Borg tech in person."

"What happened to Commander La Forge?" Janeway asked in surprise. "Don't tell me one of the Enterprise officers finally accepted an assignment on another vessel."

Riker laughed, not entirely naturally. "Miracles do happen, Captain. Geordi was reassigned to the transwarp development project over at Utopia Planetia back in March. Stone is still new to the Enterprise, but she's more than capable."

"We look forward to seeing her," Janeway said. Perhaps it hadn't been very kind of her to tweak Riker like that, but she could still recall the hotshot Academy cadet who told everyone who cared to listen how he was going to make captain by age 30, beating Jim Kirk's record. But ambitions sometimes change--she knew that from personal experience. She caught the eye of her first officer and smiled.

There was a grunt from the transporter pad. A tall human male with faded blond hair stepped down to join them. "I'm Commander Craig. I'm from Starfleet Department of News and Information. I'm in charge of publicity for the Pathfinder project and your homecoming. Welcome home, Captain. I have taken the liberty..."

Janeway stifled a grin as she glanced once more at Chakotay who winked. Now she knew they were *really* home.

The Last Nacelle: an In the Arms of Family interlude. Before Voyager arrives at Deep Space Nine, Joe Carey has one last task to perform.