Part XII.

"Doctor!"

He receded his stance at Captain Janeway's voice. He felt Kes' hand on his back. They would have to make the most out of their resources to keep Seven alive long enough - somehow.

"That is: we will do our best to keep her lifesigns stable - until your return." He tried to convey a calmer, more diplomatic tone and expression; he feared he was not faring too well.

Captain Janeway stifled the Doctor, not because he was out of line, nor that his anger was unwarranted - it wasn't - but rather that the talks felt one sided.

The alien women came aboard Voyager, refused the courtesy they received, pushed coolly for their audience; got it... and now will leave after granting Voyager's crew a mere sentence or two in their and Seven's defense. So it seemed to the Captain.

And though she understood and could empathize with their fear of the Borg, her patience was running thin.

"Justice. With all due respect, I really don't believe you've heard enough from us on this subject... to make such a judgement. I think you at least owe us the courtesy of allowing us to prove that we can be trusted." she said, slightly agitated.

Lintorhan turned to face her.

B'Elanna had summoned Ensign Wildman to Engineering. She was making routine adjustments on a console when the Ensign arrived.

"Samantha. I was thinking that it may be a good idea for you to go ahead and at least run holodeck simulations on the polyferanide replication idea."

"If you think this is a good time, I'm all for it."

"Great. Let's say... at 1500 hours. I'm going to assign Vorik to help you, since he pretty much has a good procedure worked out. I've looked over the PADD that you guys wrote on the subject - again - and I only had to make two alterations. This could actually work." B'Elanna said, handing Samantha the PADD.

"I'll get on it at exactly 1500 then. By the way, was there any polyferanide in this area of the planet? I heard that the Commander's team was back."

"They found some, but it's anyone's guess if the... natives here will let us use it. The replication plan is sounding better every second." she told Samantha, arms folded and glad to take this momentary breather.

Samantha and her discussed this, Chakotay's orders, and even traded the latest ship's gossip... off the record.

B'Elanna also wrote a secondary PADD of possible problems to watch out for in the simulations, with solutions to every one. It amazed Samantha to see the engineer do it while chatting. B'Elanna handed her the PADD, shared a 'see you later', and went back to her work.

Now the physician was not the only one sounding angry.

"Captain, I shall be frank as I probably should have been earlier, but unfortunately I am new to this particular diplomatic dance," Lintorhan began, letting some of her own frustration and anxiety over the situation creep into her voice. "There is no time left for courtesy, no time left you to present your case. With each passing minute, my people grow more likely to decide against you in my absence. Which each passing minute, your drone," she gestured curtly," is another step closer to death, as are you. You alternatively press for us to decide now for the drone's sake and stall or push for more time to plead your case. Perhaps if we had not spent so long waiting in your Ready Room, or socializing with the child..." she trailed off, visibly bringing herself back under control.

"If you do not wish us to leave now, at least provide us with a secure communications line so I may contact the rest of the Council and inform them of my findings so that a decision may be made with the utmost swiftness."

Watching Lintorhan deliver her reply to the Captain, Kes could feel the frustration and anger in the room spiraling. She wanted to reassure all present that the intentions were sincere on both sides, but it wasn't her place. Instead, for something to do to relieve her own tension, she checked over Seven's monitors. Still stable for the moment...

"Commander."

Ensign Castillo paused. Chakotay looked over at the Security Chief. "What is it, Tuvok?"

"The situation is changing," said the Vulcan.

Chakotay stood and hurried over to the Security Station. Grimly, he and Tuvok watched and listened as the drama unfolded in Sickbay.

Finally, Chakotay spoke. "Assume that these negotiations will fail," he said. "What sort of attack are we likely to face?"

Tuvok considered. "I do not believe the aliens possess weapons powerful enough to engage and destroy a starship," he said. "Such weapons would have been useless against the Borg, who have been their only adversary for centuries. Therefore, I believe the aliens will attack by stealth with light infantry, using their camouflage technology to conceal their movements. Their attack will come at night, when they are most comfortable aboveground. Their objective will be to destroy Voyager, and make its destruction appear accidental.

"Best-case scenario: the aliens will attempt to storm Voyager and capture the ship and its crew by coup de main. Once they have evacuated and imprisoned the surviving crew, they will destroy the ship by causing a warp-core breach.

"However. The alien leadership has made it clear that they are willing to kill us to keep their existence secret. Therefore, I believe that infiltration and sabotage is a more likely scenario. The aliens will attempt to board Voyager secretly, and plant an explosive device near Engineering. Once they have retreated, they will detonate their bomb, causing a warp-core breach that destroys the ship.

"Such a bombing attack may be combined with an attempt to storm Voyager. The aliens may plant a bomb to destroy the ship in case their surprise attack fails. Or the attempt to capture the ship may be a feint, to divert us from the real threat."

"What's the worst case?" said Chakotay.

Tuvok raised an eyebrow. "The aliens consider us a threat to their entire species. Therefore, we may be forced to defend the ship from attacks by death volunteers and suicide bombers. The probability of a successful defense in such a scenario is low."

On the screen, the Captain was handing a PADD to the alien ambassador. "All right," said the First Officer. "Recommendation?"

Tuvok considered again. "If negotiations fail, we should retreat into space as soon as possible."

Chakotay nodded and tapped his combadge. "Chakotay to Torres."

=/\= Torres here. =/\=

"B'Elanna, prepare an alternative repair schedule. Identify the minimum number of repairs required to reach orbit. Estimate the minimum amount of time necessary to complete these repairs. Leave out anything that isn't absolutely essential. Send it to me as soon as it's ready. Understood?"

=/\= Understood. =/\=

"Chakotay out." The First Officer turned back to the Security Chief. "The Captain may decide to stay and fight. Prepare a tactical plan to defend the ship against an alien assault."

"Yes, Commander."

"All right, Mr. Castillo," said Chakotay. "You can finish your report now. Make it quick"

The Captain gleaned something from Lintorhan's speech that she had yet been unaware of. An intention of terminating Voyager and everyone aboard had been revealed, though the Captain hoped she had heard wrong.

"Justice, I will certainly give you private communication... privileges with your people. You may wish to tell them that at no time have we harmed you, nor tried to keep you here against your will - and we won't. But I also have a question for you." she said, in a bolder stance.

"Ask your question, by all means." Lintorhan responded.

"In your most recent... assessment of our objections to your swift departure, you suggested that along with Seven of Nine, the rest of us were 'one step closer' to death. Am I to understand that as a threat, or some judgement yet to be determined?"

"Captain, if we find against you, you must realize that there is no way we could let you remain in the surface indefinably, nor could we let you leave. The risk of discovery would become simply too great. We would either aid the planet in destroying you, or aid your absorption into our society underground."

"If that's what is at stake, shouldn't our right to present evidence allow us more than an impromptu occasion to do so? I would not expect, say, the Borg to be fair and impartial; but something inside me hopes that your society is different. Ours is. I'd like a fair opportunity to prove that. Pardon me for just one moment..." the Captain said with a hint of impatience.

She walked lively to the Doctor's office, grabbing one of the larger PADDs - a blank one - on the way. Tom was still there, now writing a medical report.

"Mr. Paris, I need to use this terminal for just a second."

He punched a few buttons and quickly saved his work, then turned the terminal to face her. "All ready for ya', Captain."

"Thank you. Computer. Compile the entire treatise of the United Federation of Planets, including all Prime Directive documentation."

=/\= Compilation complete =/\=

"Download into this PADD now." she said, laying the PADD onto the proper spot. Within seconds the download was complete. She returned to Lintorhan.

"Justice. I have in my hand documented proof of the society from which we come, the ideology we represent, and the laws we are sworn to uphold. Let's call this exhibit 'A'. I hope your government, council, or whatever body rules your people, will consider this before they take action... in murdering other innocent, sentient beings." said the Captain, handing her the PADD.

Lintorhan graciously accepted it. Captain Janeway continued.

"I will now take you to my Ready Room, for that private communication you requested. Doctor, keep me updated if any further decline occurs in Seven's condition."

Then, the Captain and Whoontos women walked calmly out of Sickbay... though the Captain felt otherwise.

They walked down the corridor, and entered the turbolift. The Captain mannerly let them enter first, then stepped into the car.

"Bridge. You know, Justice, I don't believe I even know what your species is called... and I do apologize for not paying attention if you told me earlier."

"We are 'Whoontos'." Lintorhan said.

Captain Janeway shook her head in acknowledgement. No more conversation took place on the short trip to the Bridge. They arrived.

To see Tuvok and Chakotay both well, and at their posts gave the Captain a confidence she had not had in a while.

"Tuvok. I'm certainly glad to see you back at work again, old friend..." she said, squeezing his left shoulder.

"I, too, share the sentiment, Captain." stated Tuvok. He exchanged a nod with the Whoontos women, as the trio headed to the Ready Room.

Chakotay had not noticed their arrival, as he was focused on Ensign Castillo giving his report. The Captain and company stepped down the steps to their destination.

Once inside the Ready Room, the Captain quickly locked the women out of the computer via her desk terminal. She told them that her button presses related to another subject. After showing them how to communicate using the setup in the Ready Room... Captain Janeway left for the Bridge.

Castillo had finished his report, and returned the Captain's chair as she approached. She sat down, and reached her hand out fondly for Chakotay. He took it.

"Welcome back to your post, Commander."

The Doctor nodded obediently at the Captain's request as she and the security guard escorted their guests out of Sickbay. When the door closed after them, he turned to Kes. They both heaved sighs of relief.

"It's not like Seven's condition is going to get any better," he said with a frown. He parked himself over the diagnostic arch and keyed in an inquiry. "Her nanoprobe count has dropped another .5 percent."

Tom finished a medical report in the EMH's office. He completed it rather quickly, though his mind drifted back to the meeting that had just ended some twenty minutes ago, with the aliens.

As he turned off the terminal, then recycled his lunch dishes and scraps into the replicator... Neelix walked through the 'back' Sickbay door.

"Neelix. You're trying not to disturb the Doctor I take it. What can I do for you?"

"I... I have a... rash." he said, slightly embarrassed.

"Where, exactly?" asked Tom, looking overly serious.

"No, it's nothing like that. It's on my back, in between my shoulders." Neelix replied, removing his suit top, to show Tom his back.

Tom looked at it closely, then grabbed a medical tricorder. "Hmmm. Neelix, you're in the early stages of an allergic reaction... to some alien chloroplasts. If you had waited much longer, this could've eventually led to anaphylactic shock."

"Really?"

"Yes. Of course, you would have felt a lot worse than you do now. You probably would've had hives too. I'm going to give you Tetranephrine for the allergy." said Tom.

He prepared the hypospray, plus another for the itch, then injected them into his patient. He then asked Neelix a few questions.

"What exotic plant have you eaten very recently?"

"Gelweed. It's very tasty, and comes from this planet. I ate a plate full earlier... because the Doctor said everything was safe."

"Neelix, it is safe to eat. But if you are allergic, it isn't safe for you. The Doctor would have no way of determining that unless he checked out every crew member's metabolism, then tested each with every plant."

"That's right. Ayala tried some too, and he's fine." said Neelix

"See. Now tell me... why were you embarrassed?"

"I'm the ship's cook... and my own food made me sick. That would be like you getting the ship way off course. I don't want anyone to know."

"My lips are sealed." Tom assured him.

"Oh, really? You sure spread the word about my blue beetle-wing coffee. Thank goodness your medical oath is in play, or I bet you'd tell this too."

"Neelix... I only told Megan Delaney about the coffee. Of course, there is that 'twin' thing." Tom said, starting to laugh.

"You finished your breakfast with her, after I left. I remember. Does B'Elanna know that you are paramours with other female crewmen... if I may ask, of course."

"Whaddya mean 'paramours'? Neelix, I'm not even that with Megan... just a regular friend. You used that term to be tactful, but you meant something stronger." Tom responded, somewhat bugged.

"You know..." Neelix uttered, stopping his words in thought.

"What?"

"I was thinking. After we get off of this planet - and things are less hectic - I might plan a cozy, quiet, candle lit dinner for two in the holodeck. A fancy little European town, perhaps. I've read some literature about Earth. Maybe you and B'Elanna would be inter..."

"Okay. Who have you been talking to?" Tom interrupted and asked.

"Nobody. But the whole ship notices the way you two act around the other. Old gossip. I just think dinners like that are important. They work for Kes and I."

"Didn't you two break up?" mused Tom.

"Yes. But we are still..."

"Paramours?"

"Use my words, Tom... yeah, yeah, use my words back at me. I should've known you would. But that's beside the point. I am going to plan that dinner some day soon, and I'll expect both of you to attend. Goodbye for now." Neelix said, looking smug and chipper. He left Sickbay.

Tom laughed to himself as Neelix left. He then wondered if the dinner was such a bad idea after all. He really cared about B'Elanna. Their entrapment in the Jeffries Tube strengthened the feelings, and he had already dreamt about her in that regard. He sighed, and went back to his duties.

B'Elanna grabbed a blank PADD. She compared the inventory of remaining Borg modifications that could be left as is - in the absence of decay and malfunction which could interfere with an early takeoff - with Voyager's regular repairs that remained, to enable the event.

She also consulted a PADD authored by Seven of Nine, another PADD of her own, and the computer. A moment of frustration would creep in, though... on occasion. But stubbornness kicked her back into focus immediately.

"Let me think. Top priority will be replicating that polyferanide... they'd better start the simulations now." she muttered to herself. "Torres to Vorik."

=/\= Vorik here. =/\=

"Ensign, report to holodeck one... we need to do the polyferanide simulation now. It will more than likely be just a one shot sim, before the real thing. Keep track of the time required for the whole process; to the nearest hour will be fine. I'll have Ensign Wildman meet you there. Torres out."

She called Samantha, and sent her to the holodeck. She then began the process of getting the flight repairs down to a numbered list... a tedious undertaking. But Chakotay, like the Captain, would get nothing less than B'Elanna's best, most prompt efforts.

The atmosphere remained tense as they headed back out of Sickbay and into the transport tube. Lintorhan used the time to flick through the copious amount of data on this 'United Federation of Planets. Constitution, current membership and membership criteria, Star Fleet… A list of apparently non-classified Star Fleet directives was also there, including extensive notes on what was called 'The Prime Directive'. It seemed at heart to be a non-interference policy, setting the base level for contact at warp capability. Interesting. The Whoontos had not possessed such capability for centuries, and much of the knowledge required to produce vessels capable of warp flight had been lost. Very interesting indeed.

Eventually the lift brought them to the bridge of the ship - a massive room populated by busy aliens at various stations - and back into the ready room where they were left with an open com channel after some button-pressing by Janeway.

Lintorhan sighed, tossing the data storage device onto the desk and pulling herself into one of the overlarge chairs. The lights were still too bright and she was getting a headache. She quickly skimmed over some more of the provided data, pausing every now and then to go over some pertinent point in detail. Then she leant back in the chair and closed her eyes, mentally replaying every moment aboard the ship. Her instincts were telling her to trust the aliens… but if she were wrong…

She opened her eyes again and looked thoughtfully at the other 'diplomat'. Breshak stood at ease on the other side of the desk, still looking slightly strained.

"What do you think?"

"I, Justice?" Breshak replied.

"Yes, you, Lieutenant. You're the other half of this mission, and I can't make this call based strictly on my own observations."

Breshak stood silently for a moment, apparently gathering her thoughts, mindful of the possibility they might be 'overheard'. Then she said: "I am not sure… I feel I should trust them, but there is something else… a hesitation. I don't know if we have the full story, Justice. They seem compassionate and brave - to save and reclaim a Borg drone as they seem to have done... but are also demanding and even arrogant. While I don't believe that they would deliberately endanger our people, I don't know if they truly understand the enormity of what they're asking - I have been briefed on some of what is at stake, Justice, and I think I have guessed some more. If it came to destroying them, they would fight back, and fight back hard, but would eventually fall. I think they would also strongly resist forced integration into our culture," she said and then paused. "I could not blame them."

There was a long silence, and the high-lieutenant feared for a time that she'd gone too far with her last comment. Lintorhan's eyes blazed for a moment, then turned strangely distant.

"Nor could I, Breshak," she said softly, after a time, "Nor could I."

Lieutenant Carey returned to Engineering. He and Vorik had nearly finished removing all Borg modifications from the torpedo launchers, when Vorik was sent elsewhere, so Carey completed the rest.

"All done with the torpedo launchers, Lieutenant."

"Good job. I have a new assignment for you now. Commander Chakotay wants a list of all the repairs necessary to get the ship ready for flight. I am working on the third list item at the moment." B'Elanna said, handing him her PADD.

He looked it over, figuring she wanted his advice on this third item. He was right.

"Let's see here. I definitely agree on this item - realigning the secondary impulse manifolds. When the plasma field switches to warp plasma through the secondary manifold, it would be nearly impossible to jump to warp directly from impulse via helm. Unless Tom had three hands."

"That's exactly what I thought; just needed a second opinion. That will be third priority. Now for the fourth item..."

The two engineers looked over a stack of PADDs, pointing, talking, and planning the best order of repairs.

Though B'Elanna replaced Joe Carey as Chief Engineer over three years ago, she never once ignored his advice without examination, patronized him, nor dared him to contradict her. The respect and confidence was mutual... and both improved the other's work a great deal. Carey may have had episodes of resentment at times, but it never left the privacy of his mind. She was the Chief.

And after all the ship had been through over the last several months, the two appreciated each other enormously.

Chakotay gave the Captain a small smile, and squeezed her hand in greeting. "It's good to be back, Captain," he replied.

"I haven't really had a chance to talk to you since the Whoontos 'released' you. Whom did we lose? And did the aliens truly kill him by accident? That's what they claim..." the Captain sighed.

The smile faded from Chakotay's face, and he let go of Janeway's hand. "Crewman Thompson," he said, tapping buttons on his console, calling up a map of the away team's route. "We scanned a large polyferanide deposit close to the surface, and went looking for it in a cave under Hill 219, here. We found a rich vein, but Thompson detected some anomalous energy readings. It turned out to be an alien sensor. I tried to contact the ship, and ordered everyone out of the cave when I got no response. That's when they ambushed us.

"I don't think they were shooting to kill," he continued. "Their weapons don't seem to have stun settings. If they'd wanted to kill us, they could have finished us off in the cave. I believe them when they say Thompson's death was an accident."

The First Officer paused. "That seems like a long time ago," he said finally.

"It's always like that when someone under your command dies. You replay it over and over again, wondering if different decisions that you could have made might have saved them. And when the person was young, hopeful, and full of life... it just seems that much worse. But it wasn't your fault, Chakotay," the Captain said in empathy.

Chakotay looked down at the deck and nodded. "I just..." He trailed off, then looked up and smiled again. "You know, you'd make a pretty fair ship's counselor. If you ever get tired of being Captain, I'd be happy to re-assign you."

"Counselor, diplomat, protagonist, scientist... all part of a Captain's daily routine. That's why we have First Officers," Janeway retorted, though she sensed some tension buried behind Chakotay's smile. She continued.

"Now. About this threat from the Whoontos. Did they mention this to any of you, while you were in their custody? Any hint of a bargaining tool we may use?"

With Carey's input, the repair list had been condensed to eight items required for takeoff and warp speed. In less than thirty minutes it was composed.

As the 'go ahead' on these repairs would probably not come for awhile, B'Elanna sent the engineer on to his next task of Borg removal. He grabbed his toolbox and headed off to the destination. At that moment, Neelix arrived with a metal lunch box.

"B'Elanna. Do you realize that every engineer has eaten lunch... except you? It's 2 PM already."

"I've been too busy. But Neelix, you shouldn't have gone to this much trouble..." she said, appreciative and a little flushed.

"I enjoy it. Don't worry; it's just ham on rye, and potato salad. I'll set it right here."

"Thanks. I will definitely take a break and eat every bit of it."

She smiled. Neelix stood there without saying anything at all. B'Elanna tried to understand why he always did that around her when he had something to say. As it was getting on her nerves, she accidentally fumbled her PADD to the floor.

"Neelix. What are you just dying to say to me?" she asked, slightly annoyed, yet strangely amused.

"Venice."

"Excuse me?"

"What do you think of 'Venice'? Isn't that a fairly romantic city? I think you and... you know... Tom should have dinner there after all this is over. The holodeck version of course."

"Where did that come from? I don't have time for this, Neelix..."

B'Elanna continued straightening her list on the PADD, and turned away from him to adjust something on a console on the opposite side of Engineering. He walked over.

"Well, Tom is all for it."

"He said that?"

"In so many words."

"In that case, I guess I could force myself to drop by - if I have time on that particular evening. But right now, I just can't think about it. Please excuse me. I have to finish this work. Thank you again for the lunch." she smiled.

"Don't let me disturb you any longer. I'll take care of the entire dinner... in the near future, naturally. See ya' later." he said, then marched happily out the door.

B'Elanna could not help but laugh. She thought for a moment about Tom, and looked forward to being in his company in a romantic setting. That quickly faded as the urgency of the moment took over. She straightened out and clarified the repair list, then tapped her combadge.

"Torres to Chakotay."

Kes looked over the Doctor's shoulder in concern. It didn't sound good for Seven and she was getting more and more frustrated. She looked at Seven's apparently peaceful form lying motionless on the biobed.

Kes turned back to the Doctor with her frustration showing plainly. She hated inactivity in the face of a problem "Do you have any sort of estimate as to how much longer we can keep her going for?" Kes enquired.

Still looking at Seven, the Doctor shook his head. "We're lucky she's survived this long."

Again, the smile disappeared. "I was interviewed by a group of them," said Chakotay. "It...didn't go well. They'd just told me that Thompson was dead. They mentioned that our survival was in question. My response wasn't very diplomatic." He sighed. "This will all be in my report. For now...no. I can't think of anything we could use to bargain with them.

"They do seem divided over what to do with us. They were arguing at one point. That one in there--Lintorhan. She asked most of the questions. She was less hostile than some of the others. She may have convinced them to take my suggestion and send an ambassador to the ship. But I'm not sure why. Unless..."

"What?" said the Captain.

Chakotay glanced over at the Security Chief. "Tuvok believes that the Borg will discover these people and assimilate them, sooner or later. *We* found them, using Borg technology. Maybe Lintorhan has come to the same conclusion."

"Even if she has," Captain Janeway said, "I don't think they're aware that we used Borg technology. As far as I know. And while we're on the subject - we will eventually have to tell them about our temporary Borg alliance. If they discovered it on their own, it would greatly add to their suspicion of us. Such a delicate situation. What do you think? Would they handle that kind of honesty with examination, before swiftly executing all of us?"

Chakotay looked over at the door to the Ready Room, leaned closer to the Captain and lowered his voice. "I think they would react very badly to that information," he said. "If I were them, and I discovered that Voyager made a deal with the Collective for safe passage through Borg space, I would attack immediately. I would assume that we couldn't be trusted--that we might sell their species to the Borg just to get out of this star system. I recommend that we keep the alliance to ourselves. And I've ordered the crew not to mention it without asking you first."

"Good thinking," said the Captain, quietly. "But as for the honesty deal... I don't want to completely rule it out until we see how things play. If they consider destroying us anyway, it may be the only gamble we have." She gestured with her famous 'two-fingered' move.

Chakotay nodded. "I've discussed our options with Tuvok, if the negotiations fail. He recommends--"

=/\= Torres to Chakotay. =/\=

"Go ahead, B'Elanna."

=/\= The new schedule is ready. I'm sending it now. =/\=

"Understood. Thank you. Chakotay out." The First Officer turned again to his console. "Tuvok recommends that we retreat into space. I concur. I asked B'Elanna to prepare a new repair schedule as a contingency plan. Here it is," he said, pointing. "This is the minimum time we'll need to reach orbit. For now, Tuvok is making plans to defend the ship from an alien assault."

This time, it was the Captain's turn to nod. Silently, Janeway and her First Officer studied the Chief Engineer's estimates.

Lintorhan sat back with a heartfelt sigh, feeling as though a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. A decision had been made. After a mere 30 more minutes of arguing and summarizing what she knew of the situation for the Council, the decision had been made. Now, for good or for ill, they'd have to see it through… and there was still no time to waste.

She slid out of the chair, nodded to Breshak who again fell in behind her, and headed back out onto the alien's control center to inform them of their decision and the choices they now had.

The Captain and Chakotay studied the early flight repair list and discussed it at length. They were amazed at the clarity of organization that B'Elanna had achieved in a short period of time.

This was interrupted as the Ready Room doors opened. Chakotay quickly closed the list with a few button taps on the command console.

Lintorhan and Breshak walked slowly out onto the Bridge. Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay stood and faced them - though they could not pick up anything from their countenances.

"Justice. Let's go to the Conference Room. Whatever you've decided, I'd like to be the one to tell my crew... rather than the blurt method. Tuvok, you have the Bridge."

"Yes, Captain." the Vulcan replied.

The Whoontos women agreed to yet another movement, and the foursome crossed over and entered the Conference Room. Captain Janeway was going to either thank them for their help; or try for a stay of execution... whether they liked it or not.

Lintorhan led the way back into the Briefing Room, followed closely by Breshak and the two alien officers. There was a brief moment while they all arranged themselves around the room.

Where to begin? And how would the aliens react?

Lintorhan cleared her throat, and started quickly. "First, we would like to thank you for your patience. We understand it has not been… easy. Secondly, we have come to a decision. It is not… unanimous among our people, but it is in your favour. We believe you will begin to notice the effects shortly. I have also been authorized to open the possibility of trade. In return, however, we have some requests to make... and a story to tell. We have much to ask, but you may have much to gain as well. You may wish to assemble your high ranking officers. They will most likely need to hear"

On hearing those words, Captain Janeway felt a huge wave of relief inside... as Chakotay's face also conveyed when she looked at him. They both knew that the diplomatic process would now come into play even more than before.

The Captain tapped her combadge. "Ensign Castillo, secure from yellow alert."

=/\= Aye, Captain. =/\=

"Justice. I just want to thank you and your people for giving us such a generous opportunity to work together. Please have a seat, so that I may gather the senior staff members that we will need for the... negotiations."

Lintorhan and Breshak took seats. Chakotay summoned the senior officers and Neelix to the conference room, then sat in his usual place.

The Doctor wore a grim expression as he entered the last of his log entry and accompanying data to his PADD. He listed every little area he worked on to restore Seven's many cybernetic interfaces. Normally the nanoprobes in her bloodstream would have been dispatched to maintain the connectoids, but they too were ailing, unable to follow their directives. Many deactivated altogether, bringing her immune system down and further thwarting his efforts.

He and Kes had managed to overtake the rate of deterioration to the point of putting the former Borg into stasis to retard any further deterioration for a time. When that too would lose effect, no one could say.

"Doctor!"

The hologram looked up at the sound of his assistant's voice. "What is it, Kes?"

"I think the nanoprobe levels are rising..."

The Doctor walked over to the diagnostic arch over Seven and read the LCARS. It was true. Either the nanoprobes had adapted, or...

They looked at one another.

The Ocampan broke the silence, her blue eyes widening: "Do you think they've brought down their protection field?"

The Doctor looked again at the display, a slight wrinkle of puzzlement on his brow. "I don't know. If so, then it means they have made their decision."

Right on cue came the intercom:

=/\= Senior officers and Mr. Neelix: report to the conference room =/\=

"I'm on my way." He looked back at Kes, who was smiling. He smiled back. "I suppose they have at that," he said. "Keep me informed of any significant changes."

"Yes, Doctor." Kes turned diligently back towards the biobed.

Satisfied and with PADD in hand, the Doctor left for the Bridge.

The tight feeling of anxiety that had become so much a part of Kes over the last hours began to melt into feelings of excitement, pleasure and relief. She watched the Doctor's back as he left Sickbay to attend the meeting happy that she could stay and watch what hopefully promised to be Seven's recovery.

Checking the readouts on the diagnostic arch, Kes looked carefully to see that there were no abnormal or irregular events. It was debatable whether or not Seven would make a complete recovery. The former drone had been so close to death that there seemed a huge amount of work for her exhausted body to do.

As the Ocampan medic worked she considered how unfair it would be now if Seven were not to survive. The tall blonde woman had been through so much, but then what was fair in this life? One could say that the predicted brevity of Kes' own life as unfair, but she just tried to view it as a time to acquire as much knowledge and experience as possible. Kes smiled to herself. On Voyager, it seemed, there were unprecedented opportunities for new experiences!

Tom also received his call from Chakotay, and walked with the Doctor. Down the corridor, they talked about some of the days not-so-serious patients that the Doctor had seen come to Sickbay, and Tom told how he treated them.

The Doctor appeared somewhat pleased with the way his 'trainee' performed, and told him. They also discussed Chakotay's earlier orders.

One of the better visits between the two strong-willed gentlemen. They entered the turbolift.

As Lt. Paris gave him the rundown of the day's visitors while primary efforts were focused on Seven of Nine, the Doctor had to admit that Tom's latent knowledge certainly came in handy for the routine checkups and other minor attentions.

He admitted this to himself, of course. To Tom Paris, he merely quipped with a grin: "Well, at least there were no fatalities."

The door to the Conference Room opened. Neelix had arrived. As he looked for a seat, he spotted a free one next to Tuvok. Things had not started - the Chief Engineer was not here yet - so he used the time to chat quietly with a pal.

"Hey there, Mr. Vulcan. Long time since I saw you last. Did everything go fairly well when you were with the aliens?" the happy Talaxian asked.

"Mr. Neelix. Things did not go well. Crewman Thompson was accidentally killed."

"I knew that. It's very sad; and I liked him, but I... I didn't think that would really be the best way to start a conversation. How did they treat you?"

"They gave us water, and took care of our injuries as best as their medical knowledge would allow. In that regard, they showed kindness. However, it was quite uncomfortable to be held against one's will." Tuvok stated.

"I can imagine. Do you feel okay now? You look a little green."

Tuvok raised one eyebrow at that remark, saying nothing.

"You know what I mean." Neelix said, slightly amused at his bad choice of words. "I have an herbal tea from Earth that a lot of crewmen drink. It has ca... cascara in it. They say it's good for the digestion."

"Mr. Neelix. Cascara is a laxative."

"Oh. Well, that's not what I meant. What is that called..." the Talaxian wondered.

"Never mind. I am not experiencing any form of physical ailment at the present time. I do appreciate your concern."

"That's a start. You are coming around, Tuvok. Someday we'll have to do something sporty together on the holodeck. That's what Tom says pals do... competitive sports. I would love to try bowling. Maybe you could give me some pointers."

"I do not bowl."

Neelix looked oddly at him, because for some reason he thought bowling was a Vulcan sport.

The Doctor and Tom Paris arrived at the meeting, just as the two "guests" had made their way in. The hologram sat in his usual spot at the far end of the table, leaving one space - next to Lt. Torres - for Tom. Paris steeled himself and walked to the other side.

The Doctor observed with concealed amusement how Torres propped her hand up by her elbow, and looked away from the empty seat while playing with her hair. Paris took his seat beside her as she made believe she didn't notice his arrival. No doubt she was aware of every move he made.

Now, it was up to the Captain to start the meeting. The hologram folded his hands in front of him on the desk in readiness. He caught Lintorhan glancing at the mobile emitter on the hologram's arm.

The Captain opened the meeting, and in no time Lintorhan of the Whoontos had everyone's attention.

They were defiantly… alien. That was probably the best description Lintorhan could come up with for them. Their attire, their flat nasal speech, their very appearance… Pale and rather hairless with small eyes out of proportion with the rest of their huge bodies, the lack of a second thumb - how could they survive without it? - some with large round ears, another with spots, a small female with ridges on her forehead, the physician from the medical bay with a strange device affixed to his sleeve she'd not noticed earlier. But then, too, there were some qualities of her own people she could recognize in them, if very few of them were physical. The conversation between Tuvok and Ambassador Neelix, for example, at once both serious and amusing. The Whoontos were by necessity a serious people, but they also recognized that humor was valuable in itself and could possess a keen sense of the absurd - when it was appropriate.

Finally, Captain Janeway called the meeting to order and gestured for her to begin. Lintorhan cleared her throat.

"In situations such as this, it's always a question of where to start, what to say. I've decided that its best to start at the beginning, a start centuries before your arrival. If you have any questions at any time, please feel free to interrupt.

"Its hard to say exactly how long ago this began - over the decades our records of the time, fragmented to begin with, have slowly been lost. What we have now are oral traditions and legends given credence by the physical presence of our ancestors' foresight, with a few scattered records and technical manuals. According to this, centuries ago, we were a race taking the first steps into space exploration and even colonization of new worlds. It was our golden era, if you will. But less than a decade into our conquest of the stars, we started receiving disturbing reports. New aliens were flooding into the sector, refugees all of them fleeing a new and terrible horror."

Chakotay nodded. "The Borg," he said.

REACTIVATING...

011101000110010101100011
011010000110111001101111
011000100110000101100010
011000100110110001100101

ERROR

INPUT FAILURE

RETRY

INPUT FAILURE

RETRY

INPUT FAILURE

IMPLEMENTING EMERGENCY PROTOCOLS

BEGINNING SYSTEMS DIAGNOSTIC

NANOPROBE COUNT LOW/RISING
CORTICAL ARRAY DAMAGED/REGENERATING
BIONEURAL TISSUE NOMINAL
NEUROCIRCUITRY DAMAGED/REGENERATING
BIOSENSORIUM NOMINAL
OPTICAL ARRAY DAMAGED/INACTIVE
OSTEOFRAME NOMINAL
MYOSTRUCTURE NOMINAL
MANUAL ARRAY DAMAGED/INACTIVE
ANGIOTUBING NOMINAL
VISCERA NOMINAL
SPLANCHNIC CUIRASS INTACT
SOFT INTEGUMENT INTACT

ALERT ALERT ALERT

SEVERE DAMAGE TO ONBOARD HARDWARE

REPORT TO NEAREST ALCOVE FOR EXTENDED REGENERATION

RETURNING TO MOBILE MODE

STAND BY...

STAND BY...

The diagnostic arch above Seven's bed began to beep. Frowning, Kes examined the data. They were showing a change in the levels of nanoprobes in the ex-drone's systems. It was as if the levels of T-cells in a full human were expanding to fight off disease. In fact, the Ocampan pondered as she reached for the hypo of nanoprobes the Doctor had left, Seven was in a similar state to a severely immunocompromised patient.

The spray hissed as the dose of the tiny replicated Borg components flooded into Seven's bloodstream. If this meant that recovery had started, that boost should help to accelerate the process. Kes stood by, watching her patient, hoping that the talks now in progress would ensure that things continued in that direction.

"The Borg," Lintorhan confirmed. "Not as you know them today, of course - much more primitive. More violent. They killed as often as they attempted to assimilate. Also, the assimilation process then was not as foolproof as it is today - the survival rate was less than ten percent - and the procedure much more painful. But with the fall of each new world, they grew in strength and knowledge and cunning, and each subsequent world fell more quickly. Our scientists and strategists determined that we had a decade at most before we too fell before them," she said, and then paused, wondering how best to continue.

"At no point in our history have we been a militant race, though I understand, given the nature of your encounters with us, you may find this hard to believe. In all our documented history, we have had but two major wars and a handful of smaller skirmished. We had only sporadic contact with our neighbors, but we were respected among our neighbors as peace-makers, dispute solvers by them. And we were woefully unprepared to fight something as powerful as the Collective. Other races with military technology far superior to our own and as much time as we had to prepare had fallen. We could not fight. We could not hide over eight billion people for any length of time. Which meant that the only two options left to us were to die - or to flee. And we chose to flee."

Pausing again, Lintorhan slid off the uncomfortably over-large chair and began to pace. "Every scientific mind we possessed was diverted into finding a way for us to escape before the Borg came. Ironically, some of our greatest scientific breakthroughs came during this time - the basis for the cloaking technology we use today, for example, an entirely new and more efficient power supply and distribution system. But ultimately, in the seventh year of the effort, a team of scientists, their names unfortunately lost to history, developed what we believe was an artificial wormhole. A rift through space to a habitable star-system thousands of light-years distant."

"Justice. In other words, the wormhole brought your species to this planet?" Captain Janeway asked.

Lintorhan stopped her pacing and looked up at the large alien.

"No, Captain. And here you have reached the heart of the matter. This is our original homeworld. We are the descendants of those left behind. Or stayed behind," she sighed, returning to her chair. "What exactly happened remains a source of speculation today. We know that some five thousand remained behind on the planet after the evacuation, but were our ancestors forced to stay behind, or did they volunteer? Were they accidentally stranded? Did they plan some day to reactivate the wormhole and join the rest of our race?" she said, gesturing almost apologetically across the table. She was starting to feel tired, the strain from the past few days compounded by a lack of sleep and proper nourishment. The lighting and background noise continued to pose a problem too. How could they stand it? Perhaps the next conference of this nature - if there were one - should be held on their turf.

"Regardless, somehow, several thousand people stayed behind on the planet, hiding, awaiting a Borg attack. And for some reason, some how, they never found us that first time, though they knew of our existence. So they moved on to other worlds in their quest for perfection, earmarking our system as a potential future base.

"It was several decades before they returned to establish that base, but their absence had given us the time we needed to further dig into our caves. It also granted our few remaining scientists time to perfect and deploy one of the few anti-Borg weapons created in the original quest for escape.

"Their first exploration party died within a week, followed quickly by the second and the third until conquering our planet was deemed a waste of resources - inefficient. They again moved on, returning periodically to attempt to adapt and establish a base here. So far they have failed. And so it has been for countless generations.

"And with each generation, we have adapted to our underground habitations. We are much smaller, have better hearing and better low-light eyesight. But that is perhaps the only benefit. For the last two hundred years, there have been rigid population control measures. Food and water are rationed and we still suffer from abnormal rates of malnutrition. Energy use is strictly monitored.