VIRTUAL SEASON 7.5

episode 36

Cyclops

[PREVIOUSLY ON VS 7.5: The Federation has responded to a request from the Vidiians to bring stability to that sector of space by forming a task force of three ships -- Voyager II, commanded by Capt. Kathryn Janeway; Odyssey, commanded by Capt. Geordi La Forge; and the colony ship Pioneer, commanded by Capt. Joshua Merves. The ships are equipped with transwarp drive and are prepared for a one year mission that includes helping the Vidiians and Ocampans establish a colony on New Earth and making contact with the Briori and the 37s. Captain Janeway married her former first officer, now retired from Starfleet, at the ceremony dedicating Voyager II, but he (as well as Tuvok's wife T'Pel) is one of the civilian scientists participating in the mission.]

PROLOGUE -- In the Beta Quadrant

It had no name. It had no past, no future. It had a Purpose, and nothing else.

It had no sense of time. A minute and a century were the same to it. The Purpose was timeless and eternal.

It had no electronics, no chips, no circuitry. No data banks. It was a marvel of engineering, a fusion of organics with metallurgy, with a dash of genetic programming. If it had realized this, it would have been proud. But it had no sense of self. It existed to fulfill the Purpose, and that was all. That was enough.

It did not think, exactly, at least not in the sense of forming structured ideas and concepts. It did not guess or speculate, as it had sufficient memory to learn from its experiences and sufficient sensory input to evaluate its targets. The Purpose and that was sufficient to propel it onward.

Onward. Seek out new worlds, new civilizations.

Keaynn Warp Ship Seeker Ten

A small ship, scarcely more than a tube of metal with two engines extending aft, dropped out of warp at the fringe of the planetary system and its pilot let out a shout of triumph. "Wheee-ah!" he yelled, not caring that there was no one to hear him. Some moments demanded celebration, even a solitary one. "We did it! It worked!"

Wonder washed over him as he, Distor Stann, became the first of his people to have this view of the Keaynn system; before now, many of his predecessors and colleagues had seen the outbound vista as they tested the faster-than-light engines but he was the first to actually make it back. He took in the sight of Dresto, the icy planetoid that marked the system's outermost reach and then looked inward to the other planets -- airless Dontal, stormy Palto, and poisonous Karrew. Then he found it, the object of his search, a shining hemisphere of blue and green and white in the light of the star. Keaynn. Home.

Remembering his duties, Stann thumbed the communications system and lifted the microphone in his dominant upper right hand. "This is Seeker Ten calling Keaynnin Base. I'm back."

He returned the microphone to its slot, knowing at least ten doradorcals would pass before his message reached its target. "That's something we're going to have to work on," he said aloud. He'd gotten into the habit of talking to himself during this mission, just so he could hear something besides the hum of the engines. "We can't be traipsing all over the galaxy if we don't have decent communications."

Then he grinned. Traipsing around the galaxy. Yes, they could do that now. Finally, after nearly a century of research and testing and failure, the key was in their hands. The Keaynnin could look beyond their own crowded planet. Anything -- everything! -- was possible now: they could find suitable planets for colonization that wouldn't require years of terraforming; they could build space stations and develop trade and supply routes between the colonies and Keaynn; they could save themselves from extinction.

A glint of light caught his attention and his grin faded. Something seemed to appear out of the sun's corona, an optical illusion but startling nonetheless. Something huge and white and unimaginable. "What is that?" he asked.

It glided forward and then angled, and his eyes widened in shock. The thing was a giant elongated cone, gleaming white against the blackness of space. Ignoring his shaking hand, he checked to make certain the external cameras were recording. If the Base missed it, no one would ever believe him.

Then he opened the microphone attain. "Keaynnin Base! This is Stann -- Seeker Ten! Do you see it? What is it?"

There was no response, of course. The message wouldn't reach them for ten doradorcals..

He watched in fascination as the great cone moved forward. Fascination changed to horror as he realized it was moving with a purpose -- it was heading for Keaynn.

The thing slowed abruptly, the wide end of its cone facing the blue and green planet. Then, slowly, the tip of the cone began to rise, curling above the main body of the cone itself and then straightening to a ninety-degree angle.

The tip suddenly inflated to a spherical shape that glowed pale green. Then, without warning, a visible beam of green light erupted from it, aimed directly at the planet. It tracked swiftly across the planet's surface.

Stann grabbed the microphone. "Base! What's happening?"

As suddenly as the beam of light had appeared, it stopped. Stann swallowed hard, and force himself to breathe. Whatever had been done, it was over.

And then wide, flat front of the cone came alive. Its mouth split into an iris that retracted, revealing a teeming whirlpool of orange and yellow energy. The speed of the vortex increased, until the center seemed to be a ball of flame. The ball began to expand, forming a bubble pushing outward, trying to escape the confines of the cone ...

...until it burst, and a flare -- a beam -- a giant shaft of flame spewed out and drilled directly into the planet's largest continent. Stann watched, unable to move, as chunks of land and bedrock large enough to be seen at this distance were thrown into Keaynn's atmosphere.

He saw fault lines spreading across the continent, and then the adjoining southern continent, and then he saw nothing, because the explosion of light blinded him, despite the protective coating on his view screen. He threw an arm across his eyes, but it was too late.

When he could see again, the cone was still there.

Keaynn wasn't.

The blue and green planet, home to five billion people, was simply gone. In its place, he saw only chunks of rock and debris, drifting in all directions. The cone's maw was dark red now, a deep crimson. And it was sucking in the debris as if it were a household vacuum extractor.

His console signaled an incoming message. Without looking down, Stann touched the "receive" toggle. "Welcome home, Seeker Ten." He recognized the baritone voice of Milok Tone, the Mission Director. He'd known Milok since their first year at University. "You did it. We've got a party waiting for you. But before you leave that position, take a look in the general direction of the sun. Our satellites are reporting something odd."

The message, sent ten doradorcals earlier, ended. The cabin suddenly seemed more silent than ever.

Stann watched the cone suck in the last bit of dust that had been his home. The iris on the opening closed, and the tail lowered until the monstrosity was again in a completely horizontal plane. It began gliding forward again, but when it was pointed at Kerrew the tip of the cone again rose and assumed a ninety-degree angle. Then the tip puffed out and issued the same pale green beam to the planet's surface. This time, though, when the green light was cut off, the maw did not open. Instead, the tail retracted and the cone began to glide toward Palto.

For the first time since the explosion, Stann became capable of thought. The thing had passed up Kerrew but who knew what would happen next -- and it was heading in his general direction. Heart racing, he fired up his faster-than-light engines and turned Seeker Ten around. As soon as he could, he engaged the engines and watched the stars become a blur.

He didn't know where he was going; as far as ten days of fuel would take him, he supposed. He just knew he had to run.

The Priests and Elders had always assured the Keaynnins they were unique, that there was no other intelligent life in the universe. For the first time in his life, Distor Stann prayed that the Priests and the Elders were very, very wrong.

ACT ONE

USS Voyager II -- Captain's Quarters

The dream began, as dreams often do, in the middle of its story, and yet it made perfect sense. Kathryn was seated at a formal banquet table, wearing her dress uniform -- the red uniform that she had worn throughout eight years in the Delta Quadrant, not the unflattering white Starfleet adopted during her absence. The elaborate flatware glittered gold and silver under the lights of the multiple chandeliers. She had never seen so many forks and knives and wondered what she was supposed to do with all of them.

She wasn't the only one confused by the settings. Across the long, narrow table Chakotay caught her eye and smiled ruefully. He, too was in his red dress uniform, which was a little odd since he was no longer in Starfleet. On the other hand, she had always thought he looked particularly good in that uniform.

"Captain Janeway," a voice beside her said, and she turned to her left. A Vidiian smiled at her broadly. "So good of you to come. And all this way, too."

"The Federation felt your message was important," she replied.

"And what would you like for dinner?" Another Vidiian, now seated next to Chakotay, asked.

This surprised her; formal dinners such as this usually had a fixed menu. "Are there choices?"

"Oh, yes," the Vidiian next to her assured here. "There are always choices."

"For instance," the Vidiian beside Chakotay said, "I believe I'll start with some liver." He picked up a fork and knife from the table, and without hesitation, plunged them into Chakotay's abdomen.

Chakotay half rose in shock, then collapsed to his chair as the Vidiaan pulled out the entire liver. "Perfect," the Vidiian said.

As Chakotay stared dully at her, Kathryn jumped to her feet but then was unable to move. All she could do was shout, "No! You can't do that!"

"Of course they can." Kes spoke calmly from Kathryn's right. "It's what Vidiians do. I thought you understood that."

"I'm partial to kidney myself," said the Vidiian on Kathryn's left.

"Coming right up." With a flourish, the Vidiaan across the table plunged a fresh knife and fork in Chakotay and yanked them out, a kidney speared on the tines.

"Oh, dear," Denara Pel said, suddenly appearing on the other side of Chakotay. "I'm sorry, Captain, I really hadn't planned on this."

Ambassador Diaza put a hand on her shoulder, his antennae drooping toward her sympathetically. "There's no need to apologize," he told her. "It's hardly your fault, Dr. Pel. Everyone knows that Starfleet can't manage a decent first contact."

"Ambassador, don't you see what's happening?" Kathryn asked, aghast.

"I have eyes." He shrugged. "But the first rule of diplomacy is never to insult your host." Then he smiled at the Vidiian who was still hovering next to Chakotay's still body. "Could I try the spareribs?"

With a supreme effort, Kathryn willed herself awake before the Vidiian plunged the knife into Chakotay again. Even so, the dream had been so vivid that she had to lay still for a few moments for her mind to fully transition back to reality. She was in her own bed, on Voyager II, and Chakotay was lying beside her. For a few seconds she listened to him breathe, just to assure herself that he wasn't hurt. Then she rolled out of bed and quietly went into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face.

Her heart was still pounding, and she took a deep breath. True, she had some misgivings about this mission to the Vidiians, but until now she hadn't realized how deep they ran. And the worst part was, there was almost no way she could convince Ambassador Diaza that they needed to approach the assignment with as much skepticism as hope. He was convinced she had bungled First Contact with the Vidiians a decade ago. As if it were possible to bungle a First Contact that began with the other party stealing the lungs from one of her crew and then raiding her ship for more!

Well, dealing with diplomats -- even Federation diplomats -- was a time-honored burden of Starfleet commanders. Even the redoubtable Spock, who later became an ambassador himself, had written of his frustration with the bureaucratic mind. She would just have to find a way to gain Diaza's respect, if not his trust. Perhaps Daeja would have some suggestions after spending more time with him. Kathryn resolved to call her friend on the Pioneer in the morning.

As she reached for a towel, she noticed the light reflect off the simple wedding band on her finger. It was new enough to bring a smile to her face and remind her that she was, more or less, on her honeymoon. The convoy's current destination was Deep Space 10, located on the Federation's most extreme border with the Romulans. There, they would pick up the remaining colonists, run final tests of the transwarp engines, and finally begin the mission to the Delta Quadrant in earnest. The ten-day journey was intended to let the crews get accustomed to working together and work out any bugs in the newly christened ships.

As far as Kathryn was concerned, it was also her chance to get accustomed to being married while in command. Even though she and Chakotay had been virtually inseparable since his pardon, things were different now. They needed to adjust to new rhythms and flows in their life on shipboard. And while she had no doubts about the strength of their bond, she also knew -- only too well -- there would be times when the dictates of command would conflict with her personal life. They had a laid a good foundation, but she had no intention of taking the relationship for granted.

"No time like the present," she said softly as she replaced the towel, and then she grinned at herself in the mirror. She was wide-awake now, and she had a feeling that Chakotay wouldn't mind too much if she woke him as well. At least, not for something as important as their honeymoon.

Beta Quadrant -- Romulan Science Ship Sseikea

Danok, commander of the science ship Sseikea, couldn't help feeling annoyed. When he had been offered command of this mission, he had been assured that nothing unusual would happen. He needed only four months to qualify for his full pension, and Admiral D'Kan had promised him that he could finish his term with honor but without incident. He wasn't a coward; far from it, Danok had an honorable career. But nearly a year in a Jem'Hadar prison camp had turned his hair white, depleted his poise and eroded his confidence. His mere survival was a triumph of will, and the Admiralty had rewarded him with this assignment, scanning for valuable elements and metals in a remote sector of the Beta Quadrant remarkable only for its lack of traffic.

So when the centurion manning the long-range scanners said, "Sir, I'm picking up an unidentified object," Danok was annoyed. There weren't supposed to be any 'unidentified objects' out here. There wasn't supposed to be anything except the Sseikea and the small space station that served as its base of operations.

"Be more specific," he snapped.

"It appears to be an artificial construct," the centurion -- Danok hadn't bothered to learn his name -- said. "Ten meters long, titanium alloy, hollow, one life sign. I believe it must be a ship, but the configuration is unfamiliar."

A ship? Danok frowned deeply. There were no spacefaring races in this sector, nor in the next. The inhabited planets were all pre-warp civilizations; that's why it was so quiet here. "On screen," he ordered.

His frown deepened at the image. The object was undeniably a space ship -- primitive, small and derelict. It looked cold and dead, and despite the fact that the Sseikea could destroy it in less than ten seconds, the sight of it filled him with foreboding. He didn't know why, but he had a feeling he was looking at his doom.

The second in command, Subcommander Kelar, looked up from his console. "The life sign matches the anthropological files on the planet Keaynn, approximately one parsec from here." When Danok only raised an eyebrow in response, he went on, "Keaynn is a primarily agrarian society last surveyed twenty years ago. The last report indicated they were fifty years from developing warp technology."

"Apparently they didn't see the schedule," Danok said.

"The bioreadings are in fluctuation," Kelar said. "I believe the occupant is dying."

Danok said nothing. It could be a trick, a means of gaining access to the Sseikea. Or it could be what it seemed, an unfortunate Pioneer dying of sheer bad luck. And if so, why should he care? When had the Romulans cared about the weak and wayward, except to render them harmless to the Empire?

On the other hand, when had the Romulans feared the weak and the wayward? Perhaps they should rescue this unlucky traveler and interrogate him to learn what other advances Keaynn had achieved ahead of schedule.

The entire bridge crew was staring at him, waiting for his order. Shamed by his indecision, he nodded once. "Beam him to Sickbay. Alert the medics that I want to talk to him as soon as possible."

USS Pioneer -- Colonists Mess Hall

"And then her eyes lit up, and she said..." Neelix paused for dramatic effect, building to the punch line of his story. The former Voyager crew members at the table -- Michael Ayala, Angelo and Celes Tessoni, Jim Morrow and Sarexa -- were already grinning, but the others, especially Daeja Thev and Kajee Narel, were starting at him in rapt attention. "Then Captain Janeway said, 'There's coffee in that nebula.'"

Kajee smiled hesitantly, clearly not understanding. Her knowledge of Voyager was limited to what she had acquired since learning her foster son was actually Mike Ayala's boy, and this was something she had missed. Daeja Thev, though, laughed out loud. "That is typical Kathryn," she said, her antennae curling in amusement. "Confronting a scientific mystery and gorgeous example of nature, she thinks of coffee."

Ayala leaned close to Kajee. "You have to know Captain Janeway to really appreciate it, Narel."

"Yeah, but what I want to know is how you are so certain of that, Neelix," Angelo said with a broad smile. "I'm pretty sure you weren't on the bridge then."

"I heard from Commander Tuvok. " Neelix leaned back smugly, knowing his source was impeccable.

"Oh, my," Sarexa said. "Look who's joined us."

Everyone turned to follow her gaze and saw that Ambassador Diaza had entered the Colonists Mess Hall. "That's a first," Angelo said under his breath. The Andorian Ambassador preferred to take his meals alone in his quarters or in the Officers Mess, with Captain Merves.

Daeja's smile disappeared. "He's probably looking for me." Neelix realized for the first time that Commander Thev was not enjoying her assignment as attaché to the Federation Ambassador to the Delta Quadrant.

Sure enough, the Ambassador looked around until he spotted Commander Thev, and then he moved purposefully across the room to towards their table. Daeja pushed her tray back, and rose as her fellow Andorian approached.

"Ambassador Diaza," she said. "How may I help you?"

"Sit down, Commander," the Ambassador said. "I was looking for Ambassador Neelix."

Neelix straightened reflexively. "Oh? Well, please pull up a chair and join us."

Diaza looked around the table. "That's very kind, but I was hoping for a private conversation. Apparently my messages haven't reached you."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I haven't even looked at my message service. We've been so busy the last few days, making sure everyone was settled in. A little chat, one ambassador to another? Of course. I'm at your service -- as soon as I've finished lunch. This stew is too good to waste." He smiled widely. "You might want to try some yourself."

"No, thank you." Diaza held himself stiffly, as if trying not to shudder.

"At least join us for a cup of tea," Sarexa urged. "We have an extra cup handy."

Daeja added, "Do join us. You haven't had an opportunity to meet many of the colonists."

From the expression on his face, Diaza agreed with that observation and would have liked to keep it that way. But that look was quickly replaced with a professional diplomat's smile. "Thank you. Madam Neelix, I would be grateful for a cup of tea."

"Call me Sarexa," she said as she poured him a cup from the large carafe on the table. "And why don't we go around the table and introduce ourselves."

As they did so, Diaza listened carefully and when they were finished, he said, "You were all on Voyager, I believe. Except Commander Thev, of course, and you, Ms. Kajee. At least, I don't recall your name."

"You're right," Neelix said, impressed. "You've really done your homework."

"It's important to have the entire picture." Diaza took a small sip of the tea.

"I hear you don't think Janeway handled the Vidiians very well." Jim Morrow, sitting at the opposite corner of the table, spoke a little too loudly.

Neelix winced at Morrow's confrontational tone, but Diaza remained unruffled. As he set down his cup he said, "I realize it was a difficult situation, but yes, I do think it could have been handled better by a true diplomat."

"You're probably right," Morrow said sarcastically. "When they boarded the ship, I'm sure you could have got them to sit down and talk instead of ripping out vital organs."

"Jim," Celes Tessoni said softly. To Neelix's relief, the admonition was enough to make Morrow lean back and frown rather than say anything else.

"I've read those reports," Diaza said. "Frankly, I always allow for some exaggeration. No one likes to admit they mishandled a first contact situation."

Before the others could react, Neelix said, "There was no exaggeration, Ambassador. The Vidiians were little more than pirates at that time. They weren't interested in cultural exchanges."

"Just body part exchanges," Angelo added.

"You make them sound like monsters," Diaza said, apparently unimpressed.

"Not monsters." Neelix spoke firmly. "But they did monstrous things. They were desperate. The Phage very nearly brought them to extinction."

"They weren't always like that," Sarexa added. "Before the Phage, they were known as a very sophisticated and generous people."

Diaza nodded. "Exactly. I'm sure they always were. Voyager's unfortunate first encounter set a tone for subsequent relations. My mission will be to rectify that regrettable state of affairs."

The conversation was beginning to grate on Neelix. "You make it sound as if Voyager were to blame."

"That's not my intention. I am merely acknowledging the facts."

"The facts," Neelix said, his throat tight with irritation, "are that the Vidiians terrorized their area of space for decades. The first time they found Voyager, they ripped out both my lungs and then raided the ship to take more. The second time, they killed several crewmen and tried to tear apart the DNA of B'Elanna Torres. The third time, they did their best to capture the ship and take us prisoner. Voyager did nothing to provoke them except to be there, with a healthy crew."

Diaza looked surprised. "They really took your lungs? I assumed that was an exaggeration, since you obviously survived."

"Our physician saved me by creating holographic lungs until Kes volunteered to donate one to me." Neelix looked him in the eye. "The reports are not exaggerated, Ambassador."

"I see." Diaza's antennae curled inward as he took a long sip of tea. When he set the cup down again, he glanced around the table. "I'm surprised you all agreed to join this colony, given the way you feel about the Vidiians."

"Dr. Pel was always our friend," Celes said. "And Kes says it's safe."

Jim Morrow snorted. "Nothing in the Delta Quadrant is safe, Celes. And I don't care if the Vidiians are as healthy as a horse on derby day -- you still can't trust 'em."

Neelix saw the color drain from Kajee Narel's face in reaction to Morrow's words. Apparently Ayala did too, because he said immediately, "The Vidiians are like anyone else, Jim. They've got good people and bad people. But if Kes says they're different than before, that's good enough for me."

Diaza rose. "Thank you for the tea, and the most interesting conversation. Ambassador Neelix, perhaps you could stop by my quarters later? 1500, if it would be convenient."

"My pleasure." When the Andorian was gone, Neelix shook his head. "I wonder if he's irritating on purpose. Is it some sort of diplomatic skill?"

"No," Daeja Thev said. "He honestly believes that no one in Starfleet can do anything but fight."

Sarexa frowned. "Well, at least we set him straight about the Vidiians."

"Perhaps." Daeja glanced at the door through which Diaza had left. "Perhaps."

Beta Quadrant -- Romulan Science Ship Sseikea

Consciousness returned quickly to Distor Stann; he went from oblivion to wakefulness with no steps in between. As soon as he opened his eyes, his two hearts began to pound furiously. In the days he drifted through space after his fuel had run out, he had come to terms with the fact that his world was gone and he had a very limited future. His last thoughts as he slid into blackness had been that he would awaken in the Cradle of Souls or not at all; he had always been ambivalent in his religious beliefs. But with only a glance he knew he was someplace the Elders had never imagined.

A being of stern visage stood beside his bed, frowning. He was generally built like a Keaynn, but only two arms were visible, his skin was a strange color, a kind of pinkish beige with odd hints of green instead of a nice, healthy gray. His forehead was thick and his silver hair short, revealing ears that were -- Stann swallowed -- pointed.

When he took the Seeker Ten assignment, he had hoped to prove the Elders wrong and find other intelligent life in space. Now that he was apparently looking at it, he was terrified.

The frowning silverhair spoke. His voice was deep but the words were gibberish. "I don't understand," Stann said, but even so couldn't help asking, "Who are you? Where am I?"

Apparently the lack of understanding was mutual. Silverhair turned his head, and for the first time Stann saw a second being in the room, one who looked just like Silverhair except that his hair was dark as a tooli bird. Stann didn't need to understand the language to recognize authority when he heard it. Silverhair was clearly in charge. Tooli-hair uttered a meaningless syllable, and then slapped something against Stann's chest. The move caught him completely by surprise, and he had no chance to block it. Dismayed, he looked down. Whatever it was, it was no larger than a clan brooch.

"Do you understand me now?" Silverhair asked, in perfect Keaynn.

Stunned, Stann whispered, "Yes."

"Good. I am Commander Danok. You are on my ship, the Imperial Science Ship Sseikea."

A ship. Looking around, Stann realized he was in an infirmary. There were several beds, all unoccupied, and two other crewmembers standing on the other side of the room. There were lights and consoles and monitors, and each of them was more surprising than the first. The technology was completely incomprehensible and clearly far more advanced than anything on Keaynn. The room alone was ten times the size of the crew cabin on Seeker Ten; the rest of the ship must be huge.

He suddenly felt as if all the blood in his body congealed as the full force of reality hit him. He was talking to aliens. He was conversing with intelligent life that had never set foot on blessed Keaynn. He was the first of his people to encounter beings from other worlds.

He was the last of his people to encounter beings from other worlds. The irony of it left him mute.

"I just introduced myself," Silverhair -- Commander Danok -- said. "It is considered good manners for you now to do the same."

Stann straightened his shoulders. "I am Distor Stann, pilot of the Seeker Ten of the Keaynn Space Exploration Authority." His words triggered a sudden thought. "My ship -- where is my ship?"

"In our cargo bay. You were drifting in space; we took you for a derelict at first." He hesitated, then said, "We have uploaded your records. We need to ask you about the weapon you observed."

Tears burned his eyes, but he was unashamed. "A weapon. Sacred Powers, it was a weapon. Do you know who sent it? Why did they do it? We couldn't hurt anyone."

"I don't know," Danok said, his expression troubled. "That's what worries me."

Alien though he was, Stann had no doubt that this man, who commanded a ship beyond the fantasy of the wildest dreamers, was clearly telling the truth. And somehow, that was the most terrifying thing Stann had experienced since watching the destruction of his home.

USS Odyssey -- Jenny Delaney's Quarters

"How do I look?" Jenny Delaney asked, circling around for Harry's inspection even as she smoothed a non-existent wrinkle out of her uniform jacket. Somehow she had tamed her curly hair and pulled it back into a tight twist. He didn't think it was particularly flattering, but instinct told him he should keep that opinion to himself.

"Fine. You look fine." He shook his head. "It's not that big a thing, Jenny. It's just an informal reception for the senior staff, and you've already met them all."

"Sure have." She rolled her eyes. "And a fine job I've made of it so far. The Chief Engineer gets tongue-tied whenever he sees me."

Harry grinned. "I think he's got a crush on you already. He asked me if we're a couple." When she looked alarmed, he added quickly, "Don't worry. I told him we're just friends. But he may not believe me when he sees us come in together tonight. Are you sure you need an escort?"

She laughed. "Don't weasel out on me, Harry. I need protection. It's not just Lt. James. Apparently I didn't make a good first impression on the XO."

Harry couldn't help frowning. Commander Sam Lavelle had been completely professional, if distant, in his interactions with Harry since their first awkward meeting. "Is he giving you a problem?"

"Not really. But he's got a way of making me fell like a first year cadet." Suddenly she looked unhappy. "I was a first year cadet when he was a senior. I looked it up."

"You knew him at the Academy?"

"No." She shook her head once. "I never even heard of him, but then, I wasn't paying too much attention to anything outside my immediate circle. But," and she looked even more unhappy, "I'm beginning to wonder if he heard of me. I, um, I wasn't exactly known for my academic achievements as a cadet."

Unbidden, the voice of Tom Paris echoed in Harry's mine. 'The Delaney sisters, Harry,' Tom had said as he tried to convince Harry to go on a double date not long after they were first stranded in the Delta Quadrant. The implication had been unmistakable -- and something Tom had plainly known from his first hitch in Starfleet. Come to think of it, Tom and Lavelle had been in the same class.

Jenny went on, "It's funny, but I never expected to be a career officer. I went along with Megan because she wanted to be in Starfleet, and we'd never been apart, and it sounded like fun for a while. Look at us now. Megan is out of the service and getting married, and I just want to be taken seriously as an officer. But if he's thinking of me like I was back then-"

"I don't think that's what it is," Harry said. "I'm pretty sure it has more to do with the fact that we were on Voyager. For some reason, I think he thinks we didn't earn our rank."

Jenny looked at him dubiously. "You've said that before, but it seems so, so petty. I figured it had to be me."

He almost laughed. "Is that why you have your hair pulled so tight?"

Her hand flew to her temple. "I wanted to look serious. Not good?" When he shook his head, she smiled. "Give me two minutes." Then she disappeared into the private area of her quarters.

For a moment, he considered telling her to hurry, but thought better of it. They weren't late for the Captain's reception yet and Jenny was nothing if not efficient. Rather than sit, he wandered aimlessly around the room. In typical Jenny fashion, it was already filled with knick-knacks and mementos that made the space unmistakably hers. He picked up a silver-framed holoimage of Jenny and Megan when they were nine or ten, wearing identical pink dresses and flanking a young boy (who was surely their brother Robbie). Another picture near it caught his eye -- it was of himself, Tom Paris and the twins, each dressed for the Captain Proton program on Voyager.

On another table, he noted what looked like a block of wood and picked it up. Someone had planed one side of the rough-barked segment to a smooth surface and carved a Celtic knot. He remembered Hugh Murphy working on this on New Hope, at night around the campfires. Hugh and Jenny had been close then, just like he and Marla. . . he set the piece down and turned away. A message from Marla had arrived just that morning, but he hadn't opened it yet. He still hadn't decided if he was going to open it.

"Is this better?"

He wheeled around to find Jenny, posing like a fashion model. She had re-styled her hair into its customary ponytail, pinned neatly in the back and with loose curls on her forehead. "Much," he said. "Shall we go?"

Romulan Science Ship Sseikea

"Message coming in from base," the communications officer said.

Danok rubbed his eyes, trying to clear them before accepting the message. He hadn't slept since they pulled the derelict ship on board. He had known it was trouble the instant he laid eyes on it, and the images from the primitive records haunted his mind whenever he tried to rest. "Hnafirh'rau. Let me see it."

The face of Subcommander Liva, his long-time friend and occasional rival at cards, stared back at him. "Commander, our scanners have identified a large vessel or entity approaching from the Keaynn sector. It appears to match the description you provided earlier."

"Send us the data," he said. His voice sounded normal, he noted with satisfaction. His stomach was already shrinking to a hard nut.

"Transmitting now." Liva glanced at something to her left, then raised a hand to someone off screen. "I'm also sending you data from the long range scans we performed. Keaynn is not the only planet that has disappeared. We can locate only three planets in the Nakar system."

Nakar, he knew, should have five planets, two of which were inhabited with pre-warp species. According to the records, they were both centuries away from developing space travel. "Which planets are. . .missing?"

"The ones with oxygen-nitrogen atmospheres." Liva, rarely given to humor, looked grim. "Nakar is directly between here and Keaynn."

"Yes." Danok nodded. By now, the data had been received and appeared on his console. He recognized the shape of the object immediately. "Subcommander, this is the same object recorded by the Keaynn ship. Go to defensive mode immediately."

"Already done." Someone off screen spoke to her, and she nodded. "The object is within visual range now. I'm going to switch channels now, Commander, so you can see what we see."

By S'Task's sword, she was a cool one. Despite the distance between them, he was almost trembling with fear for her and the fourteen others on the station, yet she was the epitome of calm. "Perhaps it's only interested in planets," he said, and then was appalled to realize he had spoken aloud.

Still, it prompted a half smile from her. "Perhaps. Or perhaps we shall prove too small to be of interest. This is, as you have often noted, a puny excuse for a space station."

He managed to smile back at her. The station was little more than an oversized satellite, serving as a watching post on this sector of space and base of operations and maintenance bay for the Sseikea. Still, it represented a certain sense of stability and order in this backwater.

Liva inclined her head, a gesture of farewell, and then the picture shifted so that it originated with the station's external cameras. The small white dot in space grew larger rapidly, until it was plainly visible. There was no doubt that this was the same entity recorded by Distor Stann: a giant cone, gleaming white against the blackness of space, slowing as it approached the station.

As it came to a halt, the tip of the cone raised itself until it was at a ninety-degree angle from the main body. Then the tip inflated into a pale green sphere. Without signal or warning, a beam of green light erupted from it, aimed directly at the station.

"Subcommander!" Danok barked.

On an audio channel, Liva responded, "It is some form of scan. We are still transmitting data."

The bridge crew on Sseikea had fallen silent as they stared at the screen. The beam ended as abruptly as it had begun, and for a second .. then two seconds... then three, nothing happened.

Danok realized he was holding his breath, and inhaled.

The flat front of the cone suddenly irised open, revealing a great maw of swirling energy. "No," Danok whispered.

A flame-colored ball of energy seemed to burst out of the cone. The screen flared white, then went black.

Danok closed his eyes. He kept them closed as the rating at communications said slowly, "Sir, we have lost the signal."

He thought the bridge had never been so quiet. He could here the crew breathing. "Ta'khoi. Screen off. Navigator, set a course for the station's coordinates," he said softly. There was no need to raise his voice. "Communications, get through to headquarters. I need to talk to Admiral D'Tur. Declare a class-1 priority."

Opening his eyes, he saw that the crew seemed relieved to have something to do. He wished he did. All he could do was think about the fact that he owed Liva ten credits from their last game of lle-rho. He would have to send it to her husband, back on ch'Rihan.

USS Odyssey, Captain's Dining Room

Sam Lavelle was the first to arrive at conference room that had been set up for the Captain's reception. As First Officer, it was part of his duty to see that everything was up to snuff -- and if not, to fix it before the Captain arrived. Fortunately, it appeared that the galley staff had done an excellent job. The conference room furniture had been rearranged to open up the room and encourage mingling, and tables laden with appetizers and snacks lined one wall.

Despite his approval of the set-up of the room, he looked over the buffet table with a healthy dose of skepticism. The display was designed for maximum aesthetic effect, down to the vase of scarlet feathers in the center of a plate of tiny Argellian deviled eggs, liberally sprinkled with paprika. In his experience, though, the more artistic the appearance, the more he disliked the food. For some reason beyond his ken, Starfleet cooks couldn't seem to master the skills of good taste and appealing presentation at the same time.

To test this theory, he picked up one of the deviled eggs and popped it into his mouth. In two seconds, he realized his mistake. The red seasoning wasn't paprika at all, but something much hotter. He was sure his tongue was blistering. Grabbing a napkin, he spit the egg out and strode over to the replicator. "Milk," he gasped.

"There are 25 varieties of plant-derived milk and 32 varieties of animal-derived milk available," the computer informed him amiably. "Please specify your preference."

"Cow's milk," he said, trying to conceal his desperation. His voice was raspy and thin. "Terran cow's milk, 2% fat content, 6 ounces."

It seemed to take forever for the glass to materialize, but finally he was able to grab it and chug. The burning began to subside at once, and he almost sighed with relief.

At that moment, Lt. Commanders Delaney and Kim walked in. For a moment, Sam felt slightly ridiculous. Chugging milk might be seen as beneath the dignity of a First Officer. Then he realized the glass in his hand was empty, and they couldn't know what it had held. Reassured, he nodded at them. "Good evening."

"Good evening, Commander." Delaney's eyes opened a bit wider, and she glanced at Kim. "I guess we're early."

"You're right on time," Sam said. "Feel free to check out the buffet. Chef has outdone herself."

Kim had an odd expression on his face, but said only, "Thanks. Looks good."

As they started toward the table, Delaney looked back over her shoulder at Sam and raised a finger to her upper lip. Sam touched his own and his finger came away with a visible white film. A milk moustache. He had a milk moustache, just like a kid caught in the cookie jar. Things like this never happened to Will Riker, he thought. Mustering as much decorum as he could, he returned the glass to the replicator, tossed out the remains of his egg and went to find another napkin as quickly as possible.

By the time he had wiped his face, a phalanx of other officers had arrived, including Odyssey's chief engineer, Lt. Homer James, the helm officer, Lt. Korbut, and CMO Alyssa Ogawa. She came over to him immediately.

"Looks good," she said with a smile. "Where's Captain La Forge?"

"In his ready room, talking to HQ. Their timing is always impeccable." He leaned close and said softly, "Stay away from the deviled eggs."

"What's the matter? Too spicy for you?"

"Too spicy for anyone," he protested.

She grinned. "Sam, you think a chile relleno is too spicy for anyone."

"That's a hot pepper!"

"You may be a big, tough commander but your taste buds are wimpy. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." Alyssa looked at him knowingly. "You grabbed a glass of milk, didn't you?"

He shrugged. "My doctor suggested it."

"I better give you a supply of antacids when we reach the Delta Quadrant. You didn't try any of Ambassador Neelix's dishes at the dedication ceremony. You're going to be miserable."

"Don't try to tell me the food in the Delta Quadrant is dangerous." He rolled his eyes. "Jeez, Alyssa, you sound like all the reporters who couldn't stop fawning on the Voyager crew."

"Well," she said slowly, "it appears that Jenny Delaney and Harry Kim don't have a problem with those eggs."

He followed her gaze and saw that Delaney and Kim, standing with Lt. James, were indeed each holding a small plate with the deviled eggs. To his chagrin, Delaney popped one into her mouth without so much as a blink.

"You know," Alyssa said slowly, "Jenny Delaney reminds me of someone, but I can't quite place it. What do you think?"

"Can't help you." Sam shrugged. "Looks like the Captain is going to be longer than he expected. Time to mingle, Lys. He wants the senior staff to get to know each other."

She smiled broadly. "Then I believe I'll go talk to Lieutenant Commander Kim. He and Delaney are just friends, did you know that? He's completely unattached. Have fun."

Without missing a beat, she walked over to a small group that had developed around Harry Kim, mostly assistant department chiefs who had just arrived. One of them was Jack O'Connell, assistant chief of Security and another Voyager alum. Sam decided to pass on that group for the moment. It wasn't that he had anything against the former Voyagers, but he wasn't up for another conversation rehashing the extraordinarily marvelous adventures of that ship.

He snagged a glass of wine from a tray carried by a circulating waiter as he crossed the room to join Tatya Korbut. Although he'd never met her before this assignment, she was a veteran of the War and at least they would have something in common to talk about.

Korbut acknowledged his presence with a brief nod. "Commander."

"Lieutenant," he returned. "Have you settled in?"

"Quite. I've learned to travel light."

Her words were polite enough, but something about her tone suggested she'd rather be someplace else. Sam looked at her closely. Korbut was only 50 years old, but her prematurely gray hair, cut too short to flatter her angular face, and slight frown added years to her appearance. "We're glad to have you aboard," he said. "You've got an excellent record."

"I'm a good pilot."

"You're more than good," he said, smiling his most charming smile. "You don't get to be an ace against the Jem'Hadar unless you're exceptional."

"I was motivated."

"Weren't we all?" He was feeling increasingly frustrated by her terse responses. "You were at the Battle of Cardassia Prime. So was I."

She regarded him for a moment with unwavering gray eyes. Her face was as expressionless as a Vulcan's. Finally she said, "Forgive me, Commander, but I don't enjoy talking about the War. And since I was loading cargo bays on private freighters while you were in Starfleet Academy, we can't reminisce about the good old days."

His brows shot up. "Are you always this blunt with superior officers?"

Her face pinkened slightly but otherwise she remained unruffled. "Sorry, sir. I meant no offense."

"But -- " he prompted.

After a moment's hesitation, she continued, "But...social functions make me uncomfortable. I have almost nothing in common with anyone in this room and I can't imagine a more artificial way to develop a friendship. Frankly, I would have passed except that it would have been an insult to Captain La Forge."

"I think you're exaggerating. We all have something in common or we wouldn't be here."

Her mouth twisted into the closest thing to a smile he had seen from her yet. "Oh? I'm here because I had nothing left to go back to, once the War was over. Is that why you're here, Commander?"

If he could have pulled his words back, he would have. He knew from her personnel record that she had enlisted in Starfleet during the War, after the Jem'Hadar had destroyed the small space station she and a small group of independent freighters called home. "No," he said quietly. "It's not." Then he smiled. "Do you like spicy food?"

"What?" Korbut looked confused by the sudden change in the direction of the conversation, but rallied at once. "Actually, yes. I do."

Sam sighed. "Then you've got something in common with Dr. Ogawa, and apparently Kim and Delaney as well. Try the deviled eggs. You'll love them."

USS Voyager II, Captain's Ready Room

The heady aroma of Kona coffee filled Kathryn Janeway's senses as she sat at her desk in her new ready room. B'Elanna, bless her heart, had worked for months to refine the replicator's ability to produce a perfect cup in a variety of beans, roasts and styles. So far, it seemed her effort had paid off with complete success.

On the other hand, Janeway was taking no chances. She wasn't returning to the Delta Quadrant without a back-up plan. Voyager II boasted not only an airponics bay, but also a traditional hydroponics bay and an old-fashioned dirt garden -- where a dozen coffee bushes were growing. That, and the coffee roaster Chakotay had picked up at an antiques store, assured a continuous supply of the Divine Brew.

Her lips curled in a contented smile. Her ship was two days into its new mission with no serious glitches or mysterious tetyron beams. Her husband was on board and working on research he felt passionately about. Life was good.

The door chime sounded, interrupting her brief moment of woolgathering. A quick glance at the chrono confirmed that it was exactly 1830 hours, the time of her last scheduled appointment for the day. "Come," she said.

Her Ops Officer entered, took four steps forward and snapped smartly to full attention. "Lieutenant Auraan reporting as ordered."

Janeway studied the young woman and managed to contain a smile. Auraan was very young and very eager, even more than Harry Kim had been so many years ago. "At ease, Lieutenant," she said, and then added for her own amusement, "before you sprain something."

Auraan let her hands fall at her sides, but otherwise failed to visibly relax. Janeway was struck by two things -- first, the woman's youth. She seemed far too young to be a Starfleet officer and far too vulnerable. Not even Harry Kim had been this young, or at least, not the Harry Kim of her memories. The second thing was the woman's exotic appeal. The combination of Troyian and Elasian genes created a being who, if not exactly beautiful by human standards, was nonetheless extremely compelling. The heavy eye make-up wasn't regulation (it was yet another concession Starfleet had granted the government of Troyius in order to lure one of its royal family into the service) but it transformed her eyes into something dramatic and irresistible. Her teal skin -- Auraan would be positively green standing next to an Andorian or Bolian-- was intensified by her dark hair and amazing eyes. With Tom Paris married, and Harry, Hugh Murphy and Jack O'Connell no longer on board, Janeway wondered who would be the first eager suitor for this girl's favors. She was suddenly glad that she could count Chakotay on the 'accounted for' side.

She must have let the silence drag on too long, because Auraan said uncertainly, "You wished to see me, Captain?"

"Yes." Janeway regrouped quickly. "You were a bit late in joining us, Ensign. You haven't had much chance to settle in. How are things going?"

"Fine, Captain. Thank you."

"Have a seat, Lieutenant. This isn't a review." She watched as Auraan took the seat directly in front of the desk. If it were possible to sit at attention, the young woman was doing it. Her back was ramrod straight and her shoulders tense. Janeway smiled reassuringly. "I'm trying to get to know all my new officers. Unfortunately, we didn't have an opportunity to talk before the launch."

Auraan nodded. "The timing of my arrival was unfortunate."

"Have you had a chance to get unpacked yet?" the Captain asked. "We've kept you pretty busy since you came on board."

"Yes. I had little to bring with me."

"Ah. Well, how are you getting along with Delia O'Brien?" Yet another mandate from HQ concerning this officer was that she 'required' a roommate.

Scarcely moving, Auraan replied, "Ensign O'Brien seems amiable and unobtrusive. We should suit nicely."

"It's a little unusual for a member of the senior staff to request a roommate." In fact, it was almost unheard of; privacy was one of the most valued perks of authority on any starship. If anything, Janeway was accustomed to requests for single quarters or cohabitation, not blind pairing.

"Unmarried females of the Troyian royal family are required to have a duenna who, at the execution of a marriage contract, can attest to the chastity of the bride or groom," Auraan said stiffly. "Starfleet would not permit my duenna to accompany me, so this compromise was reached."

Janeway leaned back in her chair. "I see. Does Ensign O'Brien understand her -" she struggled to find the right phrase -"future duties?"

"I haven't informed her. Since I have no intention of marrying, it shouldn't become an issue. However, the only way the Ruler my Uncle would permit me to join Starfleet was on the condition that I appear to observe the Customs."

Auraan hadn't moved, not so much as a twitch of a muscle, nor had her direct gaze wavered. Still, Janeway had the feeling that the young woman was distinctly uncomfortable with the discussion. Deciding her curiosity about Troyian royalty would have to wait, the Captain tried another subject. "I understand you are a musician."

For the first time, Auraan's apparent impassivity cracked. She looked startled. "How did you know that?"

Janeway smiled. This had been yet another special waiver for Troyian royalty. Auraan had been correct when she said she had not brought much on board, yet what she did bring exceeded the weight allowance by some twenty kilos. "You brought a rather large instrument on board. I'm told it's a harp."

"An Elaasian harp," she corrected. "It belonged to the late Dohlman my Great-Grandmother. Traditionally, it is played only in the Inner Chamber of the Royal Household, for members of the family and the courtier's circle."

"Well." Janeway's voice iced over. "That's too bad. My last Operations Officer was also a musician. He was quite generous with his talent."

Auraan's face darkened at least two shades. "My apologies, Captain. I did not mean to sound ... elitist. I sometimes have difficulty explaining the customs of my people. We are rather rigid in our social strictures."

The Captain looked at her curiously. "So I've heard. And yet, you broke the mold by applying for the Exchange Program. May I ask why?"

The young woman considered for a moment, then answered slowly. "I am eighth in line for the throne, Captain. Short of a catastrophic event, there is virtually no chance that I would ever ascend. The daughters of the royal house are rarely permitted to plan their own destiny. If I remained on Troyius, I would be required to resign from the Navy in two more years. At that time, I would be married to secure a political advantage and perhaps permitted to pursue some diplomatic experience. That did not appeal to me."

Janeway smiled. For the first time, she began to feel better about having this young woman foisted upon her. Her instincts told her Auraan was here because of her own ambition and not to fulfill some hidden agenda of the inscrutable Ruler of Troyius. "Thank you for your candor. If you don't mind my asking, how were you able to persuade your uncle to allow you to join Starfleet?"

As the Captain watched, the young woman's lovely face seemed to set into a mask of polite aloofness. It was an expression Janeway had seen before, usually worn by diplomats and government officials whose careers required the appearance of attention even though their minds have escaped the tedious conversation. "I was most eloquent," she said at last.

Janeway didn't need the Micheline Guide to Troyius to understand that she had just encroached on the private preserve of the Royal family, and she couldn't help frowning. It was going to be hard enough to establish diplomatic relations with the Vidiians and other Delta Quadrant species; she didn't need to worry about creating a diplomatic incident with one of her staff. "Ah," she said.

"Thank you, Captain." Aurann rose, apparently thinking that the conference was over.

Annoyed, Janeway glanced at the chronometer and realized that the allotted time for the interview had just expired. Had Auraan been marking time, or did she have an internal clock? "Lieutenant," she said with a nod. The young woman left, every movement managing to be both precise and graceful.

Staring thoughtfully at the door, the Captain wondered briefly if she had made a mistake in agreeing to accept the enigmatic Auraan on this mission. Even if she turned out to be an extraordinary performer, Janeway doubted she would ever fit in with the rest of the crew.

With a short shake of her head, she returned to the launch-related paperwork. She had just enough time to finish it before her "date" with Chakotay. They were planning on a quiet dinner in their cabin -- with the privacy lock engaged.

After all, it was still their honeymoon.

USS Odyssey

0600 hours came way too quickly, Sam Lavelle thought as he yawned widely. Alone in the turbolift, he didn't have to try to stifle it. He shouldn't have stayed so late at the Captain's reception, but once Captain La Forge had arrived to relieve him of hosting duties, he had relaxed and enjoyed himself -- and lost track of time. It had been after 0230 when he finally made it back to his quarters. When the computer woke him up, he couldn't believe it was time to go back on duty.

The 'lift stopped at Deck 6, and Grissom E. "Griz" Chafyn entered. Sam was considered tall, but even he had to look up to the Chief of Security, who exceeded two meters by a fingertip. There was a rumor going around that Griz was part Nausicaan, but Sam knew it wasn't true. Griz was entirely human, but his size and strength gave the story credibility. Even though the lift was more than large enough for them both, Sam shifted a little to give them both more space. "Good morning."

"Morning, Commander." Chafyn's voice always caught Sam by surprise. He expected someone that large to have a booming bass, but Griz was not only soft-spoken, but he always sounded hoarse, as if he had a sore throat. Even after years in Starfleet, he hadn't lost his Jamaican accent. "Quite a party, wasn't it?"

"Yes, the Captain was pleased." And thank God for synthehol, Sam added silently. If his drinks had been real alcohol, he'd still be in his bunk, oblivious. "But it's going to be a long day today."

"It surely is," Griz agreed. "O'Donnell and I were still in the holodeck when we realized Alpha shift was about to begin."

"You never went to bed?"

"Well, you see, Commander Kim and O'Donnell were talking about a program they had back on Voyager, a French pool hall. O'Donnell thought he could take me." Chafyn grinned, white teeth suddenly splitting his dark beard. "It took a while, but he was wrong."

The 'lift reached the Bridge, leaving Sam feeling chagrined as he headed for his station. He wasn't sure if it was because he had missed the match, or because Chafyn had been on his feet for 24 hours yet looked fresher than Sam felt after three hours of sleep. It wasn't that long ago that Sam could stay up all night and still report for duty needing only a shave and a cup of coffee. Was he getting old? What a depressing thought.

To make matters worse, he saw that Harry Kim was already at station, looking crisp and chipper. Way, way too chipper. Score another one for Voyager's finest.

As Sam took his seat, Captain La Forge entered the Bridge from his ready room. "Good morning," he said cheerfully. "I'm looking forward to today's drill. Captain Janeway has wagered a pound of Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee that Voyager's tactical team will perform better than ours."

"Sucker bet," Griz Chafyn said. "Sir."

"I'm counting on it," La Forge said. As he sat, he leaned toward Sam and lowered his voice. "I'm not that much of a coffee lover, but I hear Jamaican Blue Mountain is --"

"Captain," Harry Kim said, his voice conveying a sense of urgency. "We're receiving a message from Starfleet Command. Priority 1."

Sam felt his eyebrows raise in surprise. Priority 1 messages were reserved for crisis situations. What was happening?

"Let's have it, Harry," La Forge said, all traces of humor vanishing.

The holographic communications platform illuminated with the image of Rear Admiral Stenek seated at a desk. Stenek? Sam thought. He's responsible for the Romulan Neutral Zone. Is there a problem with the Romulans?

Behind the platform, the viewscreen shifted from a view of the stars to a split screen, showing the bridges officers on Voyager and Pioneer, who were receiving the message at the same time. Sam wondered if he looked as calm as Commander Tuvok.

Stenek nodded once. "Good. Captains Janeway, La Forge, Merves -- stand by for a change in orders. Pioneer will continue on to Deep Space 10, but Voyager and Odyssey are going to divert to respond to a request for assistance from the Romulan Empire."

Only the fact that Stenek was a Vulcan kept Sam from wondering if it were a joke. Apparently Captain Janeway shared his skepticism. "The Romulans asked for our help?"

The Admiral heard the disbelief in her voice. "A rare event indeed, Captain. Rare enough that the Federation is willing to interrupt your mission."

"What's the problem?" La Forge asked.

"One of their science ships, operating at the extreme edge of the Beta Quadrant, has documented what appears to be a rogue weapon. It has destroyed at least three planets and one space station."

"A planet-killer," Sam said softly, not meaning to speak aloud..

"Were the planets inhabited?" Janeway asked.

"Yes. The Romulans didn't give us specifics, but they estimated that at least two billion people have been killed. If the weapon stays on its current path, it will eventually reach Romulus -- but first, it will encounter more than thirty inhabited planets." Stenek paused, then added, "We are transmitting the data you will need, including the coordinates and the information the Romulans have provided so far."

"Why don't the Romulans take care of it themselves?" Captain Merves asked from Pioneer.

"Two reasons," Stenek replied. "First, their closest ship with sufficient armament would need at least three weeks to get there. As I mentioned, it is on the far side of the Beta Quadrant. More planets could be destroyed by then. Secondly, and I admit this is surmise on my part, the Romulans do not know how to defeat this threat. By asking for our assistance, they can either be saved from the threat, or learn from your failure; either way, they come out ahead."

La Forge shook his head. "Swell. Admiral, are you sure you can trust them? Could this be some elaborate scheme to get their hands on our transwarp technology?"

"We considered that, but the data appears to be genuine. We believe there is a legitimate threat."

On Voyager, Captain Janeway leaned forward in her chair, her expression intense. "Admiral, can you tell us anything more about this weapon?"

"The files we have transmitted contain everything we currently know. However, I can show you a record made by the science ship that is on the scene. Standby."

He gestured to someone unseen. Then the viewscreen shifted and Janeway and Merves disappeared. In their place, a grainy picture of a giant, horizontal cone-shaped entity appeared. As they watched, it raised its vertex, issued first a beam of energy from the tip and then much larger one from its base. A planet disappeared in a massive explosion.

Sam realized he was holding his breath. The poor quality transmission disappeared and Janeway and Merves were returned to the screen. They looked shaken.

Stenek, whose holographic image had remained still during the broadcast, spoke quietly. "Researchers are working now, to see if anything in Starfleet records will be of use to you."

"They can stop looking," Sam said, more loudly than he intended.

La Forge turned to him curiously, and Stenek's eyebrows arched. La Forge said, "What do you mean?"

Taking a breath, Sam rose. "Admiral, tell your researchers to check the logs of the USS Enterprise under James T. Kirk. You'll find he encountered something very similar. And he had to blow up a starship to stop it."

ACT TWO

USS Voyager II, Conference Room

Kathryn Janeway shook off a feeling of slightly tilted déjà vu as she looked around the conference table. How many times had she gathered the senior staff around a similar table in a similar room to discuss a similarly urgent situation during eight years in the Delta Quadrant? And yet, the very familiarity of it made the differences disconcerting. Tuvok was there, of course, but he sat in the place Chakotay had occupied before. Paris sat where Tuvok should be. The Doctor and B'Elanna were just where she expected them, but Harry Kim, Seven and Neelix were missing. Instead, Lt. Ishtak, Lt. Auraan and Ensign Neal Simonian, the new head of Astrometrics, sat stiffly.

It was . . . odd. It was a beginning.

"So much for your honeymoon," Paris said, sotto voce.

She silenced him with a glare, although her involuntary smile kept it a notch or two below the full Death Glare. "Lt. Auraan," she said, "I believe we're ready for the Odyssey crew to join us."

Of all the technological improvements on Voyager II, the enhanced communications systems were among Janeway's favorite. The wall monitor which Auraan activated was considerably larger than its predecessor on the original Voyager. In the blink of an eye, it seemed to be nothing more than a window into the captain's conference room on Odyssey. Captain La Forge sat at the head of the table, flanked by Commander Lavelle and Harry Kim. Janeway had met the other officers briefly, but Jenny Delaney was the only one whose name she confidently remembered.

"Good to see you, Captain," Janeway said to La Forge.

"And you," La Forge responded. "If you don't mind, Captain Janeway, I'd like to begin by asking Commander Lavelle to give an overview."

"Excellent," Janeway said. "That was an impressive display of knowledge with Admiral Stenek, Commander Lavelle. You must be an expert on that era."

Lavelle smiled easily as he rose. "More of a Kirk enthusiast, Captain. He was always one of my heroes." In just two strides, he reached a secondary wall monitor in the Odyssey's conference room. Suddenly the complementary screen on Voyager came to life with a still image of the planet-destroying ship from the logs of the derelict. The picture captured it during its scanning mode, with its tip erect and spherical eye emitting a beam of pale green energy. "This," Lavelle said, "is the image provided by the Romulans, while this," he said and the image changed, "is from the archival file Starfleet sent."

The new image showed a similar cone-shaped entity -- similar, but not identical. For one thing, it was slightly smaller than the first one. For another, its wide end was open, exposing an internal, yellow-white maelstrom. Lavelle continued, "This is the planet killer encountered by the USS Enterprise, under the command of James T. Kirk, in 2267."

"Yes," Lt. Auraan said, sounding impatient. "They destroyed it by flying another starship into it and causing it to self-destruct."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," Lavelle said dryly. "As I was saying, both Captain Kirk and then-Commander Spock believed that this planet killer was the result of a war, possibly between factions outside this galaxy. They felt there was a strong likelihood that if one side had developed such a weapon, then the other side had also. In other words, they anticipated that another one would show up eventually. I believe it simply took a bit longer than they anticipated."

"What are we going to do, drive a starship into it?" Paris asked. "Which one -- yours or ours?"

"We can flip a coin later," Lavelle said with a quick grin. "Of course, it won't do much good."

Janeway leaned forward. "Why not?"

At a touch from Lavelle, the screen split, showing the two planet killers side by side. "The hull of the first one was pure neutronium. Kirk realized he had to destroy it from the inside, and simply aimed the Constellation at the opening. Well," he paused thoughtfully, "it was a little more than that. He actually piloted the ship in and set off the warp core breach himself, before transporting out. But the point is, Enterprise didn't have the firepower to put a dent in a pure neutronium hull. And 130-odd years later, we don't, either. And unlike the first one, the base of this planet-killer has a front door -- and it keeps it closed when it's not in use. "

"Have we established that the second entity is also composed of neutronium?" Tuvok asked.

At the Odyssey conference table, Harry Kim leaned forward. "We have to assume it is. Neutronium, or something even more dense. Until we have more data, the information compiled by Enterprise is our baseline."

"Obviously, there are some visible differences," Lavelle continued. "The new entity has at least two features the original didn't -- a scanning beam in its tip, and a bulkhead covering the only point of entry."

"Wait a minute," B'Elanna said. "We don't know for certain that's the only point of entry."

Across space, Lavelle nodded. "True. We won't know until we can get close enough to scan it ourselves. But for now, it's a working assumption based on what we do know about the original machine."

"Machine?" Janeway leaned forward. "Are you certain of that, Commander?"

"Again, Captain," Lavelle said, somewhat ruefully, "it's a working assumption. The Enterprise records indicate that the original was an unmanned, automated device. Based on the similarity in appearance and function, it seems likely. But we don't have enough data yet to be certain."

Janeway looked down the table. "Astrometrics, when can we expect to have some information from long-range scanners?"

Ensign Simonian said, "Ten hours," at exactly the same moment Jenny Delaney said from the Odyssey, "Six hours."

Captain Janeway's eyebrow arched. "Which is it?"

"Six hours, Captain," Jenny Delaney said hurriedly. "Harry -- Commander Kim and I -- believe we can boost power to the scanners while we're in transwarp by diverting power from the impulse drive."

"But," Lt. Auraan said, her brow furrowing, "that is not discussed in the specifications for the Astrometrics Lab."

There was a pause, and then Lavelle continued. "In order to shut this thing down, we have to get it to open its door. And so far, it appears it only opens up after it's confirmed a target."

"Terrific," Paris said. "That's a pretty narrow window of opportunity."

"There's another problem," Lt. Auraan added, and paused long enough for attention to shift to her. "We do not know how close our ships can get to the entity before triggering its scanning mechanism."

On the Odyssey, Geordi La Forge shook his head. "Add it to the list of what we don't know. What do we know?"

"Not much," Lavelle admitted. "We're pretty sure it would take a dozen tri-cobalt bombs exploding simultaneously to make a hole in it large enough for a ship or a probe to enter."

"A detonation of that size would destroy everything for two parsecs," Tuvok said.

"Including us," Paris noted.

La Forge spoke slowly. "All right. We have to get inside the thing. How do we get it to open its door?"

The Doctor leaned forward. "That eye-like structure in the tip -- am I correct that it's a scanner of some kind?"

"Interesting image," La Forge murmured.

"We think so," Harry replied. "And not just a run of the mill scanner, at that. It looks like a coherent tetryon beam."

At both tables, the former crew of Voyager looked stunned. "Mr. Kim," Tuvok said, "are you suggesting the device is somehow linked to the Caretaker?"

"It's possible," Harry said. "We haven't encountered any other species using that technology for scanning. And we do know the Caretaker came from another galaxy. But -- "

"Add it to the list of things we don't know," Janeway said, deliberately echoing La Forge. "Let's focus on the problem at hand. Doctor, were you going somewhere with your question?"

Nodding, the EMH walked over to the monitor with the still images. "The reference to the Caretaker is not out of place. You'll recall that the Caretaker scanned us before pulling Voyager into the Delta Quadrant. This," he said, pointing at the sphere, "is clearly seeking biological life. It passed two uninhabited planets without slowing down, but it targeted the populated world."

"You're saying that it's not just trying to destroy planets," B'Elanna said slowly. "That one-eyed monster is trying to destroy civilizations."

Lt. Ishtak had been silent, but now added, "So all we have to do is wait until it locates another populated world and insert an adequate explosive."

"That isn't possible," Lt. Auraan said quickly. "There wouldn't be time before the machine fired its energy beam."

There was another silence, and then Captain Janeway said, "All right. Eliminate the impossible and figure out what is possible. We'll need that Astrometrics data as soon as-"

She was cut off by a message on the comm system. "Sorry to interrupt, Captain," said the disembodied voice of Ishtak's second from the Bridge, "but Commander Prolak would like to join your meeting."

"Oh?" Janeway tilted her head, caught between annoyance and curiosity. The Romulan observer had beamed over from the Pioneer just before the convoy had separated. She had not spoken to him since Voyager and Odyssey had activated their transwarp drives.

"He says he has information that is relevant to your discussion."

Tuvok leaned closer to her. "The Romulans have got the most data on the machine," he said quietly.

The idea of inviting a Romulan officer to join her staff meeting was anathema to her, but Tuvok was right. They needed everything they could get. "Send him in."

Commander Prolak must have been waiting just outside the conference room, because the doors opened as soon as she gave consent. The Romulan stood at the foot of the table, his eyes sweeping the room. Janeway had no doubt that he had committed every detail to memory. "Captain Janeway. Captain La Forge. My government has authorized the disclosure of additional data from our science ship."

He handed a data chip to Lt. Ishtak, who was the closest to him. Ishtak accepted it, then rose. The Klingon, a good fifteen centimeters taller and at least 45 kilos heavier, glared down at the observer. Prolak took it in, but only turned to Janeway and asked, "May I sit?"

"Please." She indicated the chair Ishtak had just vacated in order to deliver the chip to Auraan. "As you can see, we are joined by Captain La Forge and his staff on the Odyssey."

"The chip contains data gathered by the science ship Sseikea." Prolak seemed as uncomfortable to be at a Federation table as the others were to have him there. "It is now following the planet-killer at a safe distance. When we arrive in the area, it will be able to guide us to the entity's precise location."

"That will not be necessary," Lt. Auraan said. "We are capable of locating the entity without assistance."

"Nonetheless." Prolak kept his eyes fastened on Janeway. "The Sseikea will escort you."

Janeway understood the unspoken message Auraan had missed. The Romulans might have asked for help, but they had no intention of allowing two Federation ships to wander unsupervised through their territory. "Of course."

La Forge leaned forward. "Is there anything on that data chip about the composition of the thing? We are theorizing neutronium, but --"

"I'm sorry, Captain, I have not reviewed the data. My instructions were to bring it to you upon receipt." Prolak glanced up at Ishtak, still hovering behind him. "When do you expect to reach the coordinates?"

"In three days," Paris responded. "Assuming the transwarp drive works as advertised."

"It will," Torres and her counterpart, Lt. James, said simultaneously.

Prolak blinked. "Three days. Remarkable."

"And it isn't much time." Janeway straightened. It was time to end this conference and get to work. "Captain La Forge, if you agree, I think our best course is to try to figure out a way to insert a tri-cobalt charge into the entity without destroying ourselves in the process."

"I think that's our only choice at this point," La Forge said. "Until we know more than we do now."

Janeway stood. "All right, people. We have three days. Let's get to it."

USS Voyager II, Engineering Lab

"This isn't going to work," Auraan said as she studied the simulation parameters. She and Commander Torres were trying to determine ways to destroy the entity from its exterior. After eight tries, though, they had no success and Aurann felt certain that the ninth would fail as well. The data from the Romulans confirmed that the exterior of the weapon was neutronium, and it was axiomatic that neutronium was impervious.

"You know," Torres snapped, "I'm getting awfully tired of hearing you say that."

Auraan stifled a swift retort. She had been working with Commander Torres for several hours without a break, and her muscles were getting stiff, her back sore and her temper frayed. If anyone had used that tone of voice with her back home, several palace guards would have intervened to save her the necessity of a rebuke. But this wasn't home, and Auraan didn't hold the superior rank. "I'm sorry, Commander."

"I don't want your apologies," Torres replied, sounding even more irritated. "I just want something to work. Keep loading those parameters. I think you're right, but we'll try it anyway." Placing a hand on her neck, she tilted her head to one side and walked away from the monitor. "There's something we're missing. It's there, I'm sure of it, but we just aren't seeing it yet."

"I don't know what it could be." It would have felt good to stretch, Auraan thought. Just flex her back a little. But in the presence of a superior officer, even one who was indulging in physical movement, it would be unthinkable. Instead, she maintained correct posture while she worked. "We've utilized all the data from the Starfleet files and the Romulans."

"It's all there, I know. But the pieces are all jumbled. We just have to find the pattern." Torres suddenly smiled. "Sorry. My daughter discovered jigsaw puzzles recently, and there's always a piece that has slipped under the sofa." Then her face hardened again. "Thank goodness we had time to send her and T'Pel to Pioneer before we left the Alpha Quadrant. At least I don't have to worry about her, too."

Auraan wasn't certain she followed the Commander's words, but was even more confused by the abrupt changes in her attitude. One moment Torres was snappish and seemingly angry, the next she was as friendly as if they were peers. It was very odd. In the Troyian Royal Navy, protocols were quite clear on conduct; a superior officer maintained an attitude of polite formality with the juniors. All in all, it made everything easier. Auraan didn't have enough experience in Starfleet to know if Torres was unique or if the other officers would behave similarly. As it was, she had no idea how to reply to the Commander's personal reference.

Fortunately, Torres didn't seem to expect a reply. Suddenly she was all business again. "All right. Where were we? Missing pieces...you know, enough tri-cobalt should blow up anything," she muttered, pacing across the small room. "Even neutronium. Even pure neutronium." She shook her head. "How did they build that thing with neutronium, anyway? It's too dense and inflexible to use in major manufacturing."

"Clearly, they had technology that differs from ours. The simulation is ready, Commander."

Torres stood behind her. "Let's see it."

It didn't take long. The simulation postulated an almost unthinkable amount of tri-cobalt -- fifty bombs with a yield of 100 megatons each. Even neutronium should be vaporized from the intensity of the explosion. But as Auraan and Torres watched the program unfold, planets melted, stars exploded -- but the weapon emerged unscathed.

"Damn," Torres said. "Look at that. We ripped a whole through subspace all the way into fluidic space. Well, that's that. The last thing we need is to get Species 8472 angry again."

"We are agreed, then, that the weapon is not vulnerable to exterior attack?" Auraan tried to conceal her relief that they were finally finished with this futile assignment.

Torres stared at the results on the monitor for a few seconds, and then ran a hand through her hair. "Yeah. Looks like we have to wait for the one-eyed monster to open its mouth. ghuy'."

The last word was apparently a Klingon curse, but Auraan was not conversant with the language. She chose to ignore the breach of decorum. "We should advise the Captain that we should concentrate on tactics related to inserting sufficient explosive power after it has attacked a planet."

To her surprise, Torres took a step back and folded her arms. "You're a cool one, aren't you?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You just condemned thousands, possibly millions, of people to death in half a sentence. Doesn't that bother you?" Torres spoke quietly, sounding more curious than angry.

"It is regrettable, but inevitable." Auraan chose her words carefully, feeling off balance. Royal or not, conversations like this simply did not occur in the Troyian Royal Navy. "I am merely recognizing the facts."

"Right." Torres studied her for a moment longer, then said briskly, "It is also a fact that Captain Janeway isn't going to accept the destruction of another civilization as an acceptable tactic. She's going to want us to come up with another solution. And whatever it is, chances are that thing is going to kill someone. And that, Lieutenant, bothers me. A lot. So, while I go report to the Captain, why don't you apply some of that excellent Troyian education to thinking about what we can do, not what we can't."

She turned on her heel and walked out, leaving Auraan feeling stunned. Of course she was bothered by the thought that they would have to let the monster destroy more people before it could be destroyed itself, but it was completely inappropriate for a junior officer to voice such a thought. Her job was to find the answers to her superiors' questions.

Wasn't it?

Romulan Science Ship Sseikea

"The Federation ships will be here in less than a day." Kelar looked at Danok accusingly. "We should be collecting the data they requested, instead of hanging back like cowards. What will they think of us?"

Did Kelar always whine, or did I just never notice before? Danok wondered. His second in command had been increasingly unhappy since learning that Headquarters had requested help from the Federation, and when he had requested this private conference, he had been so resentful as to border on insubordination. "Frankly, I don't give a fvai's piss if they think we're the biggest cowards since the Klingons at Nirendra III. I am not going to endanger this ship and crew by getting too close to that planet-eater."

Kelar stiffened, and Danok realized he had spoken recklessly. He didn't know his first officer well, but the Subcommander had dropped hints now and again that he had family connections to the Tal Shiar. Exaggeration or not, Danok couldn't afford to have the secret police questioning his capabilities now, so close to retirement. He needed to salvage this. "My words were hasty. But in this instance, I believe caution is necessary to our survival. We will be of little use to the Empire if we are destroyed by that creature."

"And what use will the Empire have for us if we hang back and allow the Lloannen'galae to save us?"

"The Federation ships are faster and have better armament," Danok said patiently. "And they are our allies now. There is no need to speak of them as if they were still an enemy."

"Our allies now, but for how long?" Kelar shook his head. "And when they are our enemies again, it would be to our advantage if they respected our courage in the face of danger. I agree, this ship lacks the capacity to neutralize the creature. But surely we can gather data that will help the Lloann'nar act quickly and be out of our space."

He was trapped, Danok realized. There was no argument he could make which would not sound like cowardice and a betrayal of his Oath. And perhaps there was an element of truth to it: he was afraid of that thing. From the instant he had first set eyes on it, he had recognized the harbinger of his doom.

He thought of his farm on ch'Havran, the sanctuary for his retirement, where he could raise hlai and forget about the Jem'Hadar, the Klingons, and the Federation. He thought about his niece, or more precisely, the wonderful country meals she had promised to fix for him every day. Then he thought about Liva and the others at the space station, and about Distor Stann, the lone survivor of his world.

"You're right," he finally said. "The faster this thing is eliminated, the faster we can go home. What is it the Feds want to know?"

Kelar looked relieved and eager. "Many things. They are asking for scans of the entire hull. They want to know how many life forms will attract it, how much time elapses between the scanning beam and the opening of the weapon port, and how much time between the opening of the port and the firing of the energy beam."

"Good questions," Danok said ruefully. "Any suggestions on how we get answers and yet still be here to convey them?"

"As a matter of fact, yes."

USS Voyager -- Captain's Quarters

Kathryn studied the PADD as she walked down the corridor, taking in Tuvok's summary of the various departmental reports. Everyone had reached the same conclusion -- there was no viable means of destroying the planet-killer from the exterior. They were going to have to detonate an explosion the equivalent of a warp core breach inside the thing.

Which meant someone was going to have to die. Their only opportunity to reach the interior would come immediately after the weapon fired.

As she entered her quarters, the smell of warm bread made her look up in surprise. The dinner table was set with the good china and candles. "Oh, no," she said to herself. In the rush of the day, she'd forgotten that she and Chakotay had planned a dinner together at 1800. A quick glance at a chronometer confirmed she was 90 minutes late.

"Well, hello." Chakotay came from the bedroom.

"I'm so sorry," she said, meaning it. "I completely lost track of time."

"I figured something might have distracted you." He withdrew two chilled glasses from the small cooler near the replicator. "Synthehol. Unless you don't have to go back to work later."

Relieved that he wasn't upset, she took the glass gratefully. "Good call." She took a sip and then sat on the sofa.

He joined her. "What's happening, Kathryn? I know we've separated from the Pioneer and we're jumped to transwarp, but why?"

"I thought the civilians were notified," she said with a frown.

He smiled. "We were notified of the bare facts, I think, but nothing more. Lt. Auraan seems to be a stickler for the rule book."

The rule book. Technically, she probably shouldn't be discussing any of this with a civilian. On the other hand, Chakotay was not only her husband, but also her long time advisor. Rules could be bent. "Believe it or not, we're heading into Romulan space. They've asked for our help."

"The Romulans? Asked the Federation for help?" His initial disbelief turned solemn. "It must be bad."

She nodded, and quickly described the planet-killer. "The closest Romulan warship is months away, but with transwarp, we can be there in 36 hours. I just wish I knew what we're going to do once we get there."

He said nothing for a moment, then leaned back. "You're going to need bait."

"What?"

"You're going to need bait. Enough people to attract its attention and get it to attack."

"No. That's not acceptable." She set her glass down, torn between amazement that he had grasped the problem so quickly and frustration with his conclusion. "This thing has killed enough people already. There's got to be another way."

"And I hope you find it. But if you don't -- Kathryn, you've got two dozen civilians on board. I'm sure we'd all volunteer to help." His words came more quickly, rushing with his train of thought. "All we'd have to do is go sit on a planetoid for a while. The thing would spot us, scan us, and start to destroy us -- but you'd be there to intervene."

He was serious. She knew he meant every word. "Chakotay," she began, but a sudden surge of emotion choked her. She reached for his hand and clasped it. "I appreciate the offer. But even if it comes to that, I won't put civilians in harm's way. You know that."

"Volunteers, not civilians."

"Civilians." She repeated the word firmly and shook her head. "I know you want to be part of things, but this is a Starfleet matter. No matter how much I love you, I can't pretend you're still my first officer."

After a moment, the tension in his shoulders eased, and he smiled ruefully. "This is harder than I expected."

"What is?"

"Being on board but not part of the crew. I guess Starfleet is ingrained in me more deeply than I realized."

She smiled. "I know what you mean. Tuvok is doing a fine job, but this morning at the staff meeting, I kept looking for you. It's very odd."

"I feel..." He hesitated, seeming to search for the right word, then finished, "Superfluous. No. Impotent."

"Not that I've noticed," she teased, but the joke fell flat and she became serous again. "You shouldn't. You have a tremendous contribution to make once we get to the Delta Quadrant. The work you'll do with the Boirii and the Vidiians is important.

He nodded. "You're right. But as much as I enjoy what I'm doing, it's dawning on me that it was lot more fun to be part of the action."

"Have you forgotten what's in between? The endless reports, the second-guessing admirals, the petty squabbles between the crew -"

Chakotay raised a hand to stop her. "And the waiting. There's always lots of waiting. I used to be better at it."

"The best," she agreed quietly. "Look how long you waited for me."

For the first time in the conversation, his expression cleared and his smile reached his eyes. With a quick squeeze of her hand, he stood and pulled her up and into his arms for a soft kiss. "Worth every long, agonizing minute," he said. "I just want to help you, Kathryn. I don't want to make it more difficult."

"I know."

"So. Do you have time for dinner?"

"If the invitation is still open, yes, sir." She slipped an arm around his waist as they walked toward the table. "Come to think of it, there is something you can do to help me."

"Oh?"

"Keep Commander Prolak occupied." As he went through the formality of pulling her chair out for her, she sat. "Security's keeping him away from sensitive areas, but I'd feel better if I knew he had something to focus on besides Voyager."

"Consider it done." He retrieved their wine glasses from the coffee table and bent slightly as she took hers. Touching the rims of the two glasses, he said, "Here's to a memorable honeymoon."

Romulan Science Ship Sseikea

"Shuttle teams report ready," Kelar said. The satisfaction in his voice was unmistakable.

"Stand by." Everything was set for the test to proceed, everything except Danok's stomach. It roiled in warning, telling him forcefully that this plan was foolhardy and an invitation to disaster. And he knew that was true. He also knew there was no other way to determine the number of life forms needed to attract the weapon. The messages from the Lloannen'galae ships had been quite emphatic on the need for that data.

They knew the number was somewhere between one, since the weapon had ignored Distor Stann in his small craft, and fifteen, the number of people who died on the station. The plan, therefore, was simple: dispatch a number of shuttles loaded with increasing numbers of crew until one of them caught the weapon's attention. At least one shuttle crew would likely die in the service of the Empire, but their sacrifice would be recognized and honored.

Kelar was looking at him, impatience growing on his face. "Commander?"

The alien weapon was on his console screen, sliding benignly through space. It was almost beautiful in this state. A chill raced through him as he studied it. The shadow of death, he thought. "Kelar," he said suddenly, "is our visitor's ship functional?"

"Yes," Kelar said, frowning. "Repairs are complete. The pilot is in the shuttle bay now, testing the systems."

"Good. I want Distor Stann to launch and observe from a distance of 5 million kilometers."

The first officer's eyebrows arched in surprise. "Is that wise? The medic reports he is in a somewhat fragile emotional state."

"Obey me." Danok couldn't explain his impulse. He simply felt that the hapless pilot would be safer at a distance.

Silence held on the Bridge for nearly two minutes, until Kelar said, "The ship has been launched."

"Very well." Danok steeled himself, as he had done so often when facing the Jem'Hadar. "Begin. Let's see what it takes to interest this one-eyed monster."

USS Odyssey, Officers Mess, 0515 Hours

Sam Lavelle gulped down his coffee and poured another cup. It had been another long night, following a long night, and he needed the caffeine more than usual. He thought, rather glumly, that it was just another reminder that he was no longer the young lieutenant who could play cards all night and be bright-eyed for his entire shift.

"May I join you?"

He looked up and saw Harry Kim standing by the table, holding a tray. There were plenty of empty tables, so Kim clearly had sought him out. They had worked well into the ship's night, finally calling it quits at 0300. Unlike yesterday, Kim had the grace to look a little worn this morning, Sam thought, and gestured toward the empty chair opposite. "Have a seat."

"I've been thinking," Kim said without prelude, "about the Plan."

Sam heard the capital letter -- the Plan, the working tactic that they had come up with after the senior staffs on Voyager and Odyssey finally agreed that an external attack on the planet-killer would be fruitless. From Kim's tone of voice, it was clear that he and Sam held the same opinion of it. "The Plan sucks."

The crude assessment drew a smile from Kim. "I wouldn't put it quite so bluntly, but it seems to be a last resort."

The Plan called for volunteers -- fifteen, if they couldn't get more refined information from the Romulan science ship -- to sit on an otherwise uninhabited planet and wait for the planet-killer to mosey by and destroy them. Voyager or Odyssey would be near enough to lob a sufficient number of tri-cobalt devices into the thing's maw once it opened, and hope it could get out of the way quickly enough to avoid damage from the explosion.

"Have you thought of something else?" Sam asked.

"Maybe. Are you familiar with The Odyssey? The ancient epic, I mean, not the ship."

"In general terms." Where was this leading?

"Yeah, most people are. Do you remember what happened when Odysseus was captured by the Cyclops?"

Sam had to reach back into his memory. He had taken the minimally acceptable number of literature classes at the Academy, preferring to focus on more practical courses. "Uh -- didn't he get the Cyclops drunk?"

"Yes, and then he shoved a red-hot log into the monster's eye and blinded him." Kim grinned at him as he forked a bite of egg with a flourish. "We've been so focused on how Kirk destroyed his planet-killer, we forgot to look at other options. If we blind that one-eyed monster, we'll neutralize it before it can activate its weapon."

"Blind it? Blind it?" Sam stared at him, feeling stunned. "That's bloody brilliant, Kim. But how do we do it?"

"I was thinking about some kind of feedback overload, maybe reflect the scanning beam back to the source."

"Sounds complicated. Maybe the eye is vulnerable to attack when its open, and we can just hit it with tri-cobalt." Excitement rose in him. "A couple of shuttles might be all we need -- that way, we only put a few people at risk."

In the corner of his eye, Sam was suddenly aware of some motion occurring behind him, to his left. He turned his head, and realized Drew Powell, carrying a tray of food, had caught his foot in the leg of Sam's chair and was starting to fall.

Time seemed to slow down as Sam reached out and caught his godson by the waist. Alyssa Ogawa stood behind her son, her face frozen in unhappy surprise and helplessness. Then Kim was on his feet, catching the tray of food just as Drew lost his grip on it.

With a funny pop, time snapped back into shape. Sam, certain Drew was stabilized, quickly let go of the boy. Judging by the stiffness of his shoulders and flush to his cheeks, Drew was mortified by his clumsiness and preparing for more bruises to his dignity in the form of either teasing or worse, pity.

"Hey, Drew," Kim said, as if nothing had happened. He set the tray down next to his. "Glad you could join us. Pull up a chair. Good morning, Doctor."

Drew hesitated for perhaps half a second, then sat down beside Kim. Even though his eyes were hidden behind the VISOR, Sam could tell from the boy's tentative movements that he was still expecting some comment on the near fall. "What's that, oatmeal?" Sam asked him as he shifted to make room for Alyssa. "Yuck."

"Hey, with cinnamon and raisins, it's not bad." Kim forked up another bite of egg.

"Then why aren't you eating it?" Drew asked boldly.

"Got me there." Kim grinned at him. "I'm an egg man myself. Too many years of leola root porridge."

To his relief, Sam realized Kim wasn't going to say anything one way or the other about the mishap. Drew had become very self-conscious about his physical condition and would have preferred to eat in the privacy of his quarters, but his counselor had recommended he take at least one meal a day in a communal setting. He and Alyssa had argued about it, compromising on breakfast, which was usually the least-attended meal. All it would take to send him back into his shell would be one humiliation.

"We're going to have to postpone our kal-toh lesson," Kim went on. "Looks like we're going to be working late again."

"That's okay," Drew said. "I know you're busy."

"Kal-toh?" Sam repeated. "What's that?"

Before Kim could answer, Drew did. "It's this totally deltoid Vulcan game, Sam. You have to play around with spatial geometry until you find the hidden shape. You should see how it looks through my VISOR."

"Totally deltoid?" Sam repeated, wondering if the game somehow built up muscles.

Drew voice was the equivalent of eyes rolling, all adolescent superiority impatience. "You know. Radically intense."

Sam must still have looked confused, because Alyssa added smugly, "It's really cool. Like the Delta Quadrant."

"Ah." As irritating as it was to learn the Delta Quadrant had even slipped into slang, Sam couldn't remember the last time he'd heard that much enthusiasm from Drew. "Good."

"Whenever you have time, Harry, it will be fine." Alyssa smiled across the table at him. There was just a touch too much admiration in her expression for Sam's comfort. He wasn't jealous, of course. He just didn't want Alyssa or Drew to get hurt.

"I hate to eat and run," Sam said, standing, "but we need to get back to work. We've got some new ideas to test."

Kim gulped down some coffee and rose. "See you later."

As the two men walked toward the tray disposal, Sam said, "Thanks for the way you handled that. Drew's my godson, and I take a special interest in him."

"You're lucky," Kim said levelly. He met Sam's eyes as if returning a challenge. "My goddaughter's on Voyager. I don't get to see her as often as I'd like."

There was a dig in there somewhere, Sam was certain, but it was delivered so skillfully that he couldn't quite place it. He chucked his tray onto the return and said, "So. Tell me more about blinding the monster. What was that about feedback?"

Beta Quadrant

It glided through space, its sensors quivering from the odor of biological life. The levels were intriguing but on investigation, too slight to be of interest. The Purpose was not concerned with small-scale lifeforms. The Purpose sought new worlds, new civilizations. New threats to be eliminated.

A sensor twitched. The reading was stronger than the other recent ones. Density indicated the potential for communal biological life. A detailed scan was required.

The scanner activated. There were numerous small craft hovering nearby, none of sufficient interest -- except one. Targeting set. Activate beam. Eliminate. The Purpose is fulfilled.

But the sensors were not stilled. They were insistent that a large concentration was nearby. Activate scanner. Rotate.

There it was. A larger craft, with an ample concentration.

Romulan Science Ship Sseikea

Danok did not move as the weapon scanned the three shuttles deployed around it. One by one it passed over them until it reached the one with twelve people on board, the most they had sent out. The scanning beamed stopped and held, long enough for Danok to realize he was holding his breath. Then the white beam stopped and the flat front of the cone irised open.

"Get out of the way," Danok said softly, speaking to the remaining shuttles. As if they heard him, they began to back away rapidly. In the time it took to process that, it was too late. A fist of energy erupted from the cone and the targeted shuttle exploded, sending debris in all directions. Then the massive flare retracted and the cone opened efficiently and quickly sucked it all in.

Danok closed his eyes. He was not a particularly religious man but he bid the twelve souls on the shuttle farewell and easy journey to Vor-ta-Vor.

"Shall I recall the remaining shuttles?" Kelar asked quietly. Everything was quiet on the Bridge.

Nodding slowly, Danok said, "Yes, get them back-" He broke off as he realized the tail of the cone had not returned to its resting state. It was still erect, and the scanning beam was active again -- and it was swiveling toward Sseikea.

"Belay that," he said, rising to his feet. He had known it would come to this, known it since the moment he had first seen the primitive recording from the Keaynn ship. His heart began to pound so forcefully he thought it might burst, and he forgot to breathe.

Transfixed, he watched as the eye kept twisting until beam passed through the hull and engulfed the Bridge in a blinding glare. Danok threw his arm up to protect his eyes, but the light shocked him into action. "Kelar! Warp 3! Get us out of here!"

"Where?" Kelar shouted.

"Anywhere!" Danok took one long stride to reach the pilot's console. "Anywh-"

The light dimmed, then vanished. Danok touched the control, and felt the warp engines stir. Hope soared for a moment. Perhaps they would escape this doom after all -

His skin suddenly tingled with an odd sensation, and knew his hope was futile. His premonition had been correct after all.

Ah well, he thought. I probably would have been bored in retirement.

Then there was nothing.

ACT THREE

USS Voyager II -- Bridge

::Dropping out of transwarp ... now,:: Torres reported from Engineering.

Kathryn Janeway didn't move, except to tighten her grip on the command chair. It was probably an unnecessary precaution, but until they had a little more experience with transwarp, she decided to be cautious. Every so often she remembered the forced landing on New Hope.

A quick glance to her left confirmed that Tuvok was doing the same.

The viewscreen adjusted its focus, the colorful smears of light that marked transwarp resolving in the distinct shapes of normal space. The only thing was, there were far fewer shapes than Janeway expected to see. "Lt. Auraan," she asked, frowning, "are you certain these are the correct coordinates?"

"Yes, Captain." The young woman touched some controls, then looked up. "The Odyssey has emerged 750,000 kilometers portside, but there is no sign of the Romulan ship. I'm extending scanner range."

Janeway tensed. "Could they have moved on without telling us?"

"Possibly," Tuvok replied. "If they felt it necessary to withdraw for safety, or if they are following the planet-killer."

"No, sir." Auraan looked up. "I've found the planet-killer. It's about half a parsec from here. There's no sign of anything large enough to be the Romulan ship." She paused, then added, "There is one small craft hovering a million kilometers aft."

"A shuttle?" Paris asked.

Auraan shook her head. "Too small. And its engine signature is odd. But it does have one life form aboard." She looked up. "Not Romulan."

"Captain La Forge is hailing," Ishtak said. "Standard image."

With a gesture, Janeway signaled acceptance of the call. La Forge wasn't trying to use the new holographic comm system, so the viewscreen handled the message. "Something's wrong," he said without preamble.

She smiled. "I have to agree. Our sensors have picked up a small craft."

La Forge glanced offscreen, and then nodded. "We see it too. And the Cyclops."

"Cyclops?" she repeated.

"Can you think of a better name for a one-eyed monster?"

She sensed Harry Kim's influence at work and smiled ruefully. "No, that sounds right. I suggest we keep an eye on it for the time being, but until we know more we shouldn't approach it too closely."

"Agreed."

"Captain," Ishtak said suddenly, "we're being hailed. It's the small ship. Audio only."

Surprised that there was no image, Janeway shrugged. "Let's hear it."

::Hello?:: a male voice said. ::Can you hear me? Can anyone hear me?:: The man was tentative, almost fearful.

"We hear you," Janeway said. "I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager. Do you need help?"

::Help?:: The man laughed, a sound that was edged with hysteria. ::Yes, I need help. We all need help. That thing eats ships. It eats planets.::

She leaned forward, noting that La Forge mirrored her action on the screen. "You've seen the planet-killer?"

::Oh, yeah.:: There was unmistakable bitterness in his voice. ::I've seen it.::

"We were supposed to meet a Romulan ship," Tuvok said. "Do you know what happened to it?"

::It was eaten. The thing -- the planet-killer -- blew it up. It was horrible. The other shuttles were caught in the explosion. Then it ate up all the pieces.:: He swallowed audibly. ::They're all gone, just like my planet. Danok, the medic, the others. All gone.::

With a start, Janeway realized that she must be talking with the pilot of the derelict ship the Romulans had reported finding. They hadn't said much about him, except that he had witnessed the destruction of his own world. "We'll bring you aboard," she said gently. After a quick signal to Ishtak to mute the audio, she turned to Tuvok. "You and the Doctor meet him in the transporter room and take him to Sickbay."

She gestured for the mute to be lifted as Tuvok left the Bridge. "I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

::Oh. I'm, uh, Distor Stann. Pilot of the Seeker Ten::

"Stand by for transport, Pilot Stann."

::Huh? What does that -- Hey! What's hap-::

The transmission ended with the hum of the transporter beam. Janeway turned back to La Forge. "Captain, why don't you send a team over. We'll retrieve the ship and interview the pilot as soon as possible."

La Forge nodded. "We'll be there in ten minutes."