1-07 Shadows

Tuvok takes Seven of Nine on a mission to investigate unusual gravitational influences. The Colonel shows extremes of reaction, which leads him into hot water with the Captain when they find more than they bargained for as they chase shadows....

Voyager and her crew are copyright of Paramount. The Colonel and additional characters are mine. No resemblance is intended to any person alive or dead.

The storyline is my own.

Constructive criticism and comments are welcome on e-mail story@rgower.f9.co.uk.

This is the sixth story in a sequence, if you want to know why things have occurred I heartily recommend you start at story 1-01 Castaway.

This story is rated as PG

©R Gower 2000

"Seven!" Captain Janeway announced briskly, entering Astrometrics. She came to a halt and observed her ex-Borg’s reaction to her hail with interest.

Seven of Nine stiffened and hesitated for, what to her, was an unusual delay, before responding nervously. “Captain?” She turned from her console she was working upon. She had a good idea as to what was to come next, she had promised to carry out a long range sensor scan for two days now, but had significantly failed to make any headway.

"When are you intending to carry out my scans?" The Captain asked on cue, "I was rather expecting it to be done by now."

"The Colonel was having difficulty with the principles of multi-dimensional navigation," Seven responded automatically, "Our lessons over ran by a considerable margin. I was unable to carry out the scan before I required regeneration."

The Captain sighed. Seven of Nine's fascination with the Colonel and her determination to see him succeed in adapting to live in her technological world, was every bit as bad as Chakotay had claimed the day before and it was starting to affect her performance.

"When I asked you to teach the Colonel our ways, I didn't mean at the expense of your regular duties," she chided gently, approaching the young woman, her arms open in gentle friendship, "Things like long range Astrometrics come under your regular duties, do they not?"

"I am sorry, Captain. I shall carry out your orders today," Seven managed to sound contrite. She could find no other logical response or excuse to add to the statement.

"That's what you've been saying for the last three days," the Captain reminded her. "It's not like you to fail to do what you've promised. It's not good enough!"

"I am sorry, Captain," Seven responded again.

"I know you are fond of him, and you are desperate for him to succeed so that he feels at home here," the Captain claimed gently. "I know you think he is of great benefit to you personally and I am very happy for you. But I can't lose your efficiency for it. It’s important to you and it could put the ship in danger. I will reassign him to somebody else to look after."

"No!" Exclaimed Seven in desperation, "Please Captain. I will carry out my duties as promised," she implored.

"I think it best," Janeway responded determinedly. Not for the first time she marvelled at the emotions that the normally impassive Seven of Nine presented when the discussion was turned to the Colonel.

"At least for a few days, until you come to terms with the difference between your feelings and your duty and I get my scans." She compromised. "Besides somebody different may help him get past his problems, and you will still be able to hold your 'Confessional' when you’re off duty. Where is he by the way?"

"I believed that a practical demonstration of astro navigation may help him get around his current difficulties. I have arranged a holodeck shuttle demonstration, it will also form his first practical flying lesson on a shuttle."

"Sounds like a good idea, I'll see if Tom Paris will take him on today," the Captain turned to go.

"Captain, have you been in love?" Seven of Nine queried, stopping her in her tracks, forcing her to turn back.

"I have been studying Star Fleet texts and fiction on the subject so that I may identify my emotions," Seven of Nine explained. "There are similarities."

"Yes I have, several times. That's why I know your in love," she admitted, "And I had a very similar conversation with my Captain over my first love, only he was much less sympathetic. He had me transferred from his ship within a week, because I couldn't separate my feelings for him from my duty."

"Now will I get my scans?" She grinned

"I shall comply." Seven agreed. Still sounding a little reluctant.

The Colonel was waiting fretfully for Seven of Nine outside the holodeck. She was late, very unlike his tutor, he thought. Idly he speculated as to the reason, could she have finally got bored with him, perhaps? An idea he decided that had little appeal anymore, he actually liked being in the company of the outwardly cool and dispassionate blonde, a very rare feeling for him and he allowed himself the thought that might be unlikely, given the recent events that had befallen them both.

Rather than give himself over to idle and fruitless speculation he took out the flute he always carried with him and started to play, losing himself to the music.

It was this activity that the Captain found him indulging in some 45 minutes later.

She had heard the haunting music echoing down the corridor as soon as she had exited the turbo lift and approached him spell bound. Suddenly he stopped and spun around to face her, snapping to attention and saluting as he always did in her presence. The action amused her as it always did, there was something comically incongruous in his strict adherence to formality in the face of the easy standards of Star Fleet.

"Sorry Ma'am," he apologised. "I was waiting for Miss Nine. She seems to think I need to learn to fly a shuttle, but she is unusually late. So I engaged in a little music to pass the time."

"The music was lovely," the Captain complimented, "But you will have a long wait for Seven, I've relieved her, she will not be your tutor for a while at least."

"Ma'am?" He questioned.

He could express a lot of emotions in that single word, she decided. This time it was a mixture of disappointment and relief, as well as the obvious implied question of why?

"If you’re worried that her feelings for you have been reduced, then don't. I've relieved her because she has got too attached to you, she was starting to ignore her duty," she informed him calmly.

"I'm sorry, Ma'am. I'm afraid that is my fault. I think Miss Nine finds me an incompetent but enthusiastic student, and my desire to succeed tends to get in the way. I should have realised she had other duties to perform and I was interfering with them," he apologised profusely. "If you wish I will endeavour to curtail our relationship?"

"Don't you dare!" She stormed at him in shock. "Your the first person she's looked at voluntarily and got involved with. I'd hate to break her heart when she's only just found she has one. She would never speak to me again!"

Then she laughed. "I'm not working to your Regulations," she pointed out, "I'm not going to have her keel hauled, flogged, or anything else from your book, I'm simply giving her the chance to remember she has other functions on this ship other than looking after you!"

"Ma'am," he responded, his relief showing.

"I was thinking of getting Tom Paris to teach you shuttle control, but he is off duty, so I thought I'd take the opportunity to test you and see for myself how well you’re doing," she teased him, attempting to unsettle the cool soldier.

"To be honest, Ma'am, It is quite a relief. I fear I may disappoint her again." He admitted.

"Your supposed to be terrified of being taught by the Captain, I was!" She laughed freely, the ruse had failed totally.

She started the simulation and entered the holodeck, with the Colonel following closely behind. Quickly he sat himself at the pilot’s console and scanned the panel.

"Do I need to go over the controls?" She asked quietly, unsure about how far Seven had taken him.

"This bank of pads control thrust, these direction, these pitch and roll, the indicators beside them give values for each as scroll bars, the pads across the top are controls for navigation," he intoned quietly.

"That's good going," she complimented.

"I read the manuals very carefully," he confessed. "But I've not tried them in practise yet."

"We'll see how you do then. Do you think you can get us airborne?" She challenged.

"I can try, Ma'am," he announced quietly. "If it proves to be anything like an aeroplane, getting in the air is the least of my problems.".

Gently he set the thrust vector and increased power to the engines, until the shuttle lurched. As soon as he felt it lurch he started to reduce power again to prevent it soaring, but not quick enough, the simulator soared into the sky, it came down again just as quickly as he over did the reduction and it banged to the ground again.

"Bugger!" He exclaimed in frustration. "Sorry Ma'am!"

"Ignore the manual," she informed him gently. "Rather than try to bring the shuttle to a hover, redirect the thrust to get the shuttle moving, then you won't have to reduce power so much and you aren't so likely to over compensate."

He tried again, using the Captains instructions as his guide. This time he succeeded in keeping the shuttle in the air, but it was bobbing like a yo-yo as he tried to match speed and the thrust vectoring into a smooth correlation. The shuttle leapt out of the simulated shuttle bay at an alarming velocity.

"This is worse than a helicopter," he cursed, a bead of sweat appearing on his brow. Irritably he wiped it away.

"Thank you Ma'am. We seem to be airborne," he announced carefully.

"I've seen worse takeoffs," she admitted as consolation. "But I can't remember when, certainly not since Academy!"

"Now see if you can bring us to a hover. Apply 25% reverse thrust until you see the velocity reduce, then cut power. When our speed reaches about 100 Km/h apply a short burst to forward propulsion, that will slow a deceleration. Remember there is no gravity here, so you need thrust to slow down then more power to stop," she instructed.

"It is quite a balancing act, that's why there's a pad on the console to do it automatically," she confided. "You can use it if you need to, the manoeuvre takes a lot of practice."

The Colonel struggled to bring the craft to a halt manually for a full ten minutes, then finally hit the stop button in desperation.

"Disengage the auto pilot and hold us here manually on thrusters," she instructed impassively.

He did as he was bid and spent another frantic few minutes attempting to keep the shuttle stationary.

After a few minutes of this torture, the Captain relented, and put the shuttle back on automatic again.

"Not bad, for a first effort," she admitted. "But you must control the urge to over compensate, you could have to do it for real when there are things to hit and that would never do for Seven's prized pupil!"

"I'm sorry Ma'am. I keep thinking aeroplanes," he confessed. "I shouldn't I know, this is nothing like an aircraft. All the controls are wrong and don't respond properly, and there's no gravity to help."

"Okay, now you've rested, let's see how your navigation holds out. Set course for a point 994.301Z789," she commanded. "We'll see how far out you are?"

"Ma'am," he responded, bending to the task set him.

After a few minutes he sat up again, "Course computed and laid in, Captain," he announced.

The Captain examined the course carefully. "Try it," she suggested gently. "It's out, but not as badly as Seven would have me believe."

"Ma'am!" He acknowledged happily. "Engaging the warp drive."

"Permission to speak, Ma'am?" He asked quietly.

Surprised she removed her hand from the control combination that would speed up the simulation. "Certainly, Colonel."

"Why did you give me permission to use Miss Nine's quarters?"

She thought carefully before answering, unsure of her own reasoning and how he would accept it. She did not think he would like her superficial reasoning. That she wanted to see Seven heavily and intimately involved with somebody, to prevent her taking such a close interest in the activities of others. Even easing Seven of Nine’s own loneliness. She suspected that the Colonel would take umbrage at such ‘forced’ arranging and would walk out there and then. She did not want to see that happen, not to Seven and not for her own peace of mind.

"You know, you've made a really big impression on Seven, don't you?" She answered quietly. "It was evident since before that dinner you organised. The only problem is that neither of you will admit just how deep it is. Seven because she doesn't know what it is she's feeling, you because you’re scared of it. The quarters she uses are still yours, you gave them to her not us. If you hadn't, I think she would still be in your quarters, either engaging in your 'Confessional' or sleeping in your bed and you would continue to talk to her in the way you have, then sit by her as she slept. She is that besotted with you and you’re too much of a gentleman to take a natural advantage. I'm simply bowing to the inevitable. Besides there are no other spare quarters."

"But her reputation, Ma'am!" He protested.

"With you, it's safe!" She laughed. "I would trust you with anybody."

"And the crew?"

"The crew have accepted it in the same way I have. They know you go to Cargo Bay 2 to sleep, if you’re uncomfortable in her presence. What sort of routine are you using?"

"I use the bed when she needs to regenerate. Otherwise it depends upon the situation. I either use the Cargo Bay or a chair. Sometimes she wants comforting, so I offer that. But there are times when she needs more than I can legitimately give." He explained wistfully. "What happens when she comes to her senses and throws me out? You know it can't last?"

"If it does I'll find you somewhere else!" She promised.

They sank into silence for a few minutes. "I wish I had someone like you!" She admitted coyly. "Somebody who simply listened to my problems, without judging. Then comforted me and helped me work out the solutions. It is the ultimate dream. If Seven throws you out, I'll let you use mine." She threatened with a smile.

His reply was both sad and serious. "With respect, Ma'am. You know too little about me to make a statement like that. Miss Nine is learning and finds it easier to accept than you would, but I'm not sure she will like all of it!"

Involuntarily she shuddered at the suggestion of more skeletons in the Colonel's closet.

"We appear to have arrived at our destination. How far out are we?" She asked bringing them back to their mission.

"Approximately 150,000 Klicks, Ma'am." He announced, then remembered where he was, "Sorry Ma'am, soldier slang. 150,000 Km."

"As I suspected, Seven wants you to be as accurate as she is. It's within Star Fleet tolerances. In reality you would check and correct your course enroute." She announced.

"Now see if you can get us back to the ship, you will need to be a little more accurate and adjust course in flight."

"Aye, Ma'am," He responded automatically, starting the recalculation.

"Where you a good airplane pilot?" She asked as the simulated Warp drive was engaged again.

He thought for a moment. "It depends upon your definition, Ma'am. I've walked away from every crash so far, the Navy good naturedly call that a good pilot. I have been shot down once, wrapped a few on landing. One was not my fault, the aircraft I was in was involved in a mid air collision with a light aircraft and we came in 'Dead Stick', without engines. The other two I wasn't concentrating properly. So I suppose the answer is not really." He offered.

She laughed ghoulishly, "From that I'd say it's like everything else you get involved in. If there is a crisis your the man for the front seat, otherwise you’re not interested?"

"I'm very good at not dying, Ma'am," He offered obliquely as answer.

"Apart from Seven is there anything you are scared of?" She asked with a laugh. "It's obviously not danger!"

"Lots, Ma'am." He admitted. "Like right now I'm terrified I might not find the ship and you'll be upset."

It was said lightly, but she saw a dark cloud pass over his face again. There was something a lot deeper inside this soldier than the seemingly open and friendly attitude, she realised. She wondered how much Seven had drawn from him in their discussions. Carefully she avoided the subject again, there would be another and more appropriate time to probe, she decided.

"Do you want to try a manual landing?" She asked pleasantly, changing the subject. "Or should we let you off with a tractor guided one?"

"If you've got the time, I'm prepared to try a manual one?" The Colonel volunteered.

She smiled at the offer, he was trying to take the training seriously. "I'll give you one attempt," she agreed. "After that we let the tractor beam take us in. Imagine it as an emergency landing if it will help?"

"One of my many faults is a lack of imagination, Ma'am," He replied, carefully lining the shuttle with the hanger bay. "But I thank you for the suggestion."

His landing was considerably better than his take off, the Captain decided, but nowhere near good. "I think you need a lot more practise!" She claimed at last, as he shut down the engines.

"But you need to learn the mundane is as important as the odd crisis. I don't doubt you're a good man to have in a crisis, but real life is full of the mundane as well, even on this ship!"

"Aye Ma'am." He acknowledged calmly.

"What are your plans for this afternoon?"

"I have an appointment with Miss Wildman after lunch, then I was due to assist Miss Nine in an inspection of some power relays." He announced. "Under the circumstances, I assume you will wish me to cancel the latter. So I'll have a chat with Mr Neelix and see if we can make this evenings meal more palatable."

"Oh! I didn't know you had been drafted to teach Naomi? What's your subject?" She asked in surprise.

"No subject as such, Ma'am. More child minding. Bboth her mother and Neelix are otherwise engaged. I've been telling her stories and little things like that. I understand she wants to show me one of her holodeck stories today. It all helps pass the time."

"I'm sorry, finding something more useful for you to do has been difficult." She apologised.

"It's not your fault Ma'am. You have a full compliment of officers and they're all more technically capable aboard this ship than I'll ever be. Something will come along that suits." He assured her, brushing of the apology off easily.

She returned to the bridge, he turned for the Mess and his rendezvous.

"Anything to report?" She asked taking control of the ship from Tuvok.

"The first pass of Seven of Nine's long range scans is available." Replied her Vulcan Security Officer in his usual cool manner. "There are no regions of claimed space detected in the next one hundred light years. However we are picking up an unusual anomaly. I have requested that she concentrates scans there before extending for another sweep."

"What sort of anomaly?" She asked.

"I am uncertain, it appears it may be a concentration of remote gravity sources in a region of asteroids." Tuvok suggested. "I am awaiting the results of the enhanced scan."

"How was Colonel Samuels' shuttle lesson?" He enquired politely. Human pleasantries he had found helped make his Captain easier to work with. Something else to think about would stop her fretting for more information.

She smiled. "He's trying hard and he can do it, but he'll never be a good pilot. He finds it too dull." She sighed.

"He made a good attempt at landing the shuttle in the hanger, but a real mess of the take off. His navigation is adequate." She explained. "There must be someway of making it seem more exciting?"

"I saw something on his face today, it looked like pain, anger and sadness all rolled into one. He's holding something back, it's big and nasty, but he won't tell anybody about it. You've taken him for some lessons, what's your assessment? Is Seven flogging a dead horse trying to make him like us?" She asked suddenly.

"In combat, as a soldier, I rate him as excellent," Tuvok admitted, "But he dislikes and distrusts technology he does not understand. He is clever, but not intelligent, prone to violence and strong emotions. He is dangerous, employs unconventional and non Star Fleet solutions. I do not think he will qualify as a Star Fleet officer."

They descended into silence, until the summons came from Seven of Nine to attend Astrometrics to view the results of her enhanced sensor sweep. She nervously waited for the Captains response as she studied them with Tuvok.

"So there is something unexplainable amidst the rocks." Captain Janeway commented. "There may be something there that is of interest. Is there a reason for asteroids to be there?"

"The region is heavily populated by asteroids moving in random orbits, that and the radiation signals suggest that there may have been several planetary systems that have collided." Seven informed her impassively. "The nature of their orbit suggests that there are a number of unidentifiable gravity sources. They are giving some natural Gamma radiation signals, but their exact nature cannot be ascertained without closer examination."

The Captain pondered the value of investigating, absentmindedly fiddling with her Comm Badge as she did so. "Show us the area on screen." She demanded.

Seven complied from her station.

"It would be a little close." Captain Janeway admitted. "Is there something to be learned?"

"I have picked up a number of unexplained gravity phenomenon during the last two long range sweeps." Seven informed her calmly. "They have been outside our course, only an advanced Astrometrics scan has shown them, they did not register on standard sensors. There may be benefit in examining a source now that it is in our path in case we run into them again."

"Tom how long to circumnavigate the region?" The Captain asked over the intercom.

"Current velocity about six days Captain," He advised after a quick study of the controls.

"As opposed to two to go straight through," She reflected. "Can we configure the necessary sensors onto a probe?"

"A probe is not manoeuvrable enough to cope with the random orbits, Captain." Tuvok pointed out.

"Okay. Tuvok take Seven and a shuttle and investigate." She decided quickly. "We'll see you in a couple of days. Keep in touch."

She saw Seven of Nines face twitch in annoyance and felt a tinge of regret for separating Seven from her beau. "She'll adapt to cope," She consoled herself.

"Miss Wildman." The Colonel announced himself to the nine year old girl. "You wished to show me your new story?"

A huge grin lit her face. "I wrote the programme myself!" She announced proudly. "It's the first one I've done on my own."

"You'll be a credit to Star Fleet and the Captain when you get home," The Colonel complimented her cheerfully. "Do you want to tell me what it's about, or shall we wait to see what happens?"

"I based it upon the story you told me yesterday," She chattered, taking his big hand in hers and pulling him towards the door. "The one where the children find treasure and are chased by pirates."

"And I'm the wicked pirate Captain Hook, I assume." He laughed.

"Oh no! Mummy says you could never be wicked." She informed him solemnly, "You’re his first mate Mister Tibs. The one that comes to my rescue and makes the wicked Captain walk the plank."

He laughed. "I'm sure there are many who would disagree with your mother. But I thank you for the compliment and I will try to perform for you."

For the second time that day, Colonel Samuels found himself on the holodeck playing for a critical audience. It was not one that he thought he would be able to play to as well as well as the Captain, still he did his best. His fears were quickly confirmed, as he was told off by Naomi for getting too far ahead in her story.

"You’re worse than Seven of Nine!" She criticised as the story wound to a fateful conclusion. "She's never any fun! She's never been a child!"

The statement stunned the Colonel, the reasoning of the last statement had never occurred to him before. "I am most terribly sorry, but we didn't have holodecks like this when I was a child. So this is rather new to me as well." He excused himself desperately.

Her face fell in response to his distress. Despite the Colonel’s difficulty trying to conform to her story she had enjoyed the game and the company. Being allowed to tell a real adult off and get away with it was a rare treat. Besides that, the Colonel was one of the few people on the ship who would actually play with her in childish games. "I think next time I will make you the Captain, then I can push you off the plank!" She threatened.

"At your command!" He bowed to her, then fled for the door.

The Type 2 shuttle twisted away with Tuvok at the controls. "Flight time estimated at four hours." He advised, settling back in his seat for the duration.

"Affirmative." Seven of Nine responded distractedly, looking back towards Voyager. Tuvok noted the dejection in the normally unemotional ex-Borg.

"You do not wish to be on this mission?" He asked blandly.

Seven of Nine turned towards him. "I am experiencing a desire to remain on the ship." She confessed uncertainly. "I am finding it difficult to identify a reason for such illogical desires."

"You wish the Colonel was here?" Tuvok asked carefully.

"His presence would have little benefit to the mission." She replied honestly.

"Never the less you feel his absence?" Tuvok persisted.

"The Captain believes I am neglecting my duty while in his presence." Seven said carefully, deliberately skirting the question.

"I have noticed that you have had difficulty concentrating." Tuvok observed calmly. "Such lapses can be caused by the presence of those you have feelings for, good or bad. I have noticed humans are particularly affected. As your human nature asserts itself you may find it has an effect on your emotions."

"The effects on my emotions are undesirable,” Seven admitted uncomfortably. “You have never been affected?"

"Vulcans can suffer emotions, when aroused they are expressed destructively." Tuvok admitted. "That is why we have learnt to discard emotion for logic. The Colonel also has destructive emotions, but they are not tempered by logic."

"The Colonel is too impulsive and violent." Tuvok complained "His intelligence levels and knowledge of our technology are well below that required by Star Fleet for duty and he has little interest in space exploration. It puzzles me what you and the Captain see in him?"

Seven looked up from her station and frowned. "He is proving adaptable and dependable. He is proving valuable in defence of the ship," she responded loyally. "He is also intelligent, but deploys it differently. He tries to understand our technology, but has limited experience dealing with it and struggles. But he is determined to achieve an acceptable level of competence. His experience has been in working with and understanding people, his abilities appear to exceed both the Captain's and the Doctor's."

"Perhaps we should place him with the Doctor to learn modern medical practices?" Tuvok responded tartly. "Then Mister Paris can be a full time pilot."

The shuttle came to a halt some four hours after they set off. It hovered just outside the asteroid belt as Seven of Nine engaged her modified sensors and attempted to plot a course towards the nearest gravity source.

"Course required 214.120." She advised at length. "I shall monitor our progress, there are a number of smaller meteors that cannot be tracked with reliability."

"Course corrected." Tuvok advised. "Ahead one quarter impulse."

The shuttle started to make it's way into the belt, with Tuvok making numerous small adjustments at Seven of Nine's cool commands as she identified new threats.

Suddenly and without warning the shuttle rocked violently.

"We are under attack!" Tuvok announced. "Warp drive is inoperable, applying emergency power to shields."

"There is nothing on sensors." Advised Seven from her console.

Again the shuttle rocked as another power surge hit it.

"Tuvok to Voyager. We are under attack. Shields and power failing." Tuvok announced.

"I shall attempt to exit the asteroid field." He said, turning the shuttle hard to take it out the way they came.

For a brief moment he saw a shadow flit past the screen. He looked for it again, but it was no where to be seen.

A third and final devastating bolt hit them, sending the shuttle into a spin.

"Propulsion has failed, life support is failing." He announced calmly. "Diverting all emergency power to life support."

Seven of Nine checked her sensors readings "There is an asteroid 600 kilometres off the starboard quarter, it has a weak atmosphere, 10% standard gravity. I calculate we have enough velocity to reach it. The low gravity will allow us a comparatively safe landing."

"Assuming whoever is firing at us will allow us to land," commented Tuvok calmly, struggling to get the damaged shuttle to change course.

The shuttle spiralled in the general direction Seven of Nine had indicated.

"I have insufficient thrusters to allow us to lose sufficient speed," Tuvok warned, twenty minutes later, as the shuttle started to enter the weak atmosphere of the asteroid. "We will suffer severe damage. Divert all emergency power to structural integrity."

"We will lose life support," Seven warned.

"We can use emergency suits for a limited time."

Each helping the other, they struggled into emergency suits, finally clipping helmets down and terminating life support to the cabin.

The shuttle crashed into the rocky ground and bounced sending them reeling around the cabin like dried peas in a cup. It came down again, ripping the propulsion nacelles from the bottom of the shuttle before they were flung into the air again, finally coming down with a third and final crash.

Some where in the maelstrom of violence, Seven heard Tuvok shout something unintelligible, she felt her own suit catch on something hard and tear, then there was a sharp pain in her ribs and with a final crash she fell to the floor. A welcome blackness descended upon her, obliterating the pain from her body.

Tuvoks shout had been a scream of pain as he was smashed head first into the shuttles forward window, the helmets visor shattering in the impact. For a brief moment he had the feeling that he was being thrown through the force field that formed the window, then he was sent reeling over the back of the chair as the shuttle had lurched. In desperation he grabbed at a seat as he was thrown over it, then clung onto it as he was brought down hard onto the console behind. He too felt his suit catch and tear. As the wrecked shuttle came to a halt, he managed to crawl to a console and operate two controls, the first reactivated life support, the second set the shuttles emergency transponder. After that he to slumped into unconsciousness.

Aboard Voyager a stunned silence reigned, as Tuvok's Mayday came in, to be broken by Ensign Kim. "Nothing showing on sensors, Captain. I've lost the shuttle as well!"

"Tom take the Flyer, B'Elanna and the Doctor. See if you can find them," the Captain demanded quickly, her face pale from the shock.

"I think, if there is a possibility of a fight, don't you think the Colonel might be a better bet, Captain?" Tom Paris suggested quietly.

"Okay take him as well. But get on with it!" She snapped.

The Colonel appeared ten minutes after he was summoned, looking grim determined, and fully armed. Silently he took the seat indicated to him by B'Elanna Torres.

"Can't you just make do with a phasor?" She asked in resignation.

"When you can prove a phasor is as effective as blade and rifle. I'll consider it, Lieutenant" he replied bluntly, "I know I can kill a man at 400 yards with this rifle, and if I cut his throat with a knife I know he won't be on my back again an hour later. You can't make that claim with a laser gun."

She shook her head sadly, "We don't know there is anybody to fight yet!" She took her own place as Tom Paris launched the shuttle out of the Shuttle Bay.

Carefully the shuttle approached the asteroid field.

"I'm starting scans for the shuttle," announced Torres. "It will probably have crash landed on an asteroid."

"What about whatever shot at them?" Asked the Colonel. "It's reasonable to assume that Commander Tuvok knows when he's under attack."

"I'm keeping an eye on that as well," she assured him.

He grunted and gazed intently out of the window.

Suddenly he shouted. "Helm hard right! Now!"

Stunned Tom Paris didn't react quick enough for the Colonel's taste. He dived forward and smacked the helm and power controls, sending the shuttle careering off on a new course.

"What was that for?" Demanded Paris, fury clouding his boyish face.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. We were about to be rammed by something," he apologised quietly.

"Like what? I didn't see anything. B'Elanna, Doctor?" He responded in fury.

"Nothing on sensors," Torres assured them.

"I didn't see anything!" The Doctor admitted. "But I was watching the scans."

"I didn't see it properly," the Colonel admitted quietly. "Just a large dark shadow out the corner of my eye and an unpleasant feeling!"

"But there's nothing there. See the scans say it's clear!" Paris exclaimed in exasperation.

"I don't care what was on your scans, there was definitely something on an intercept course." the Colonel disputed petulantly. "I do not see things! Remember Miss Nine couldn't detect what was firing at them either."

"You made a dangerous diversion for a shuttle shadow and a 'feeling'?" Torres asked pointedly, thinking he had been suffering a hallucination.

"Yes!" He admitted hotly. "It may have escaped your notice but there are no shadows out here. Suddenly seeing one suggests that their is something there and very close. And my feelings have kept me alive for years!"

"Why not turn the shuttle around and take us back to the point where we were and see if the shadow is still there?" The Doctor suggested mildly, hoping to curtail the growing argument.

"Good idea, Doc!" responded Tom Paris rotating the shuttle to retrace it's route.

They approached the area cautiously.

"Still nothing on sensors!" Reported Torres calmly.

The Colonel was not going to be deflected by the seeming criticism. "If it was maintaining a steady course amongst this junk, it would be going that way." He pointed. "If you please Lieutenant Paris, humour me!"

Tom Paris turned the shuttle as requested and applied power.

"Those asteroids ahead that are pulling apart, is there an obvious reason?" The Colonel asked suddenly.

"They are under the influence of one of the gravity sources Seven came to investigate?" Paris offered.

"In different directions? Surely we ought to know about it if they're that strong?" The Colonel asked reasonably, showing at least some of the knowledge Seven of Nine had imparted had stuck.

"You may have a point." Torres admitted, turning to her instruments again. "We should follow the path of your shadow until an analysis can be made."

"It's right beside us!" The Colonel announced a short time later. "I can just make it out, provided I'm not looking at it directly."

Both Tom and B'Elanna peered out the shuttle window, they saw nothing.

"Don't look directly, just glance at it through the corner of your eye." He answered their questioning looks. "I assure you it is there."

Tom tried the Colonel's suggestion and caught a glimpse of something. He couldn't describe it, it appeared to be an area of space slightly greyer but darker than the surrounding space. That was how he attempted to describe it to Torres and the Doctor. They had been incapable of picking up the vision.

"It must be absorbing our sensor output. I shall try to invert the sensors." Torres suggested at last and set to work at her console. "You will have to manually correct our course from the more obvious threats." She warned as she worked.

"I don't mind dodging things I can see," The Colonel remarked happily. "It's things I can't that put the wind up me!"

"Just don't loose the shadow until we can track it." B'Elanna demanded.

"The 'Shadow' is a projection." B'Elanna announced at last. "It has no physical mass in this Universe, it exists in a Temporal Universe."

"I'm sorry for being thick, but what does that mean? And if it's not here why is it pushing things out the way?" The Colonel asked guardedly.

She tried to explain. "At some point two or more timelines in an alternate Space Time Continum became entangled. The 'shadow' is probably an asteroid in another time that forms a link between the two. The random paths of the asteroids suggest they are also appearing in the alternate Universe. The influence of the two provides a repulsion field."

The Colonels eye's took on the look of somebody who didn't understand the explanation either, they glazed. "I'm sorry I asked, I understood that as well as the original. Can we stop following it now, before it decides it wants to join us, or worse, decides we should join it?"

"We need to gather more data." B'Elanna insisted.

"Lieutenant? Is it too late to point out that exploring things has little to do with me?" He begged of Tom Paris. in mock despair.

"It's your phenomenon, you found it, don't you want to know why it exists?" Paris asked.

"Unless it happens to have something to do with our missing shuttle, not particularly. I'd much rather leave it alone, thank you!"

"At least we can track it, so the danger is reduced and we should continue to search for the shuttle," The Doctor interposed again.

There was general agreement from the shuttles occupants, so Tom Paris swung the flyer back on its original course. Silence reigned as the crew strained to find the missing shuttle.

The rear door of the shuttle opened and two small and slightly built figures entered, their metallic suits hiding their identity. One was carrying a device that was obviously a weapon of some kind, the way he ported it, the second carried a case. From the case he took an instrument, which he activated. Satisfied with the readings from the display, he reached and removed the helmet from his suit. He signalled to his partner to do the same. The helmets revealed a thin reptilian face, a dark eye either side of a long and slightly pointed face. A long forked tongue slid out and 'tasted' the air.

"Too much Oxygen to stand for long, Shar!" The second hissed to his partner.

"But the temperature is okay and they will decompose quicker in this atmosphere, we can always open the door," Shar pointed out.

"You investigate the ship, I'll examine these two, Kather" he commanded.

"This ship is not from Hithrar, or from the species on the other side," commented the second, examining another instrument from the case, "The portal may have collided with another universe."

"I concur Kather. These two are different species, but I am unable to identify them without bio-scans. They are both mammals but should be satisfactory."

"Are they alive?" Kather demanded.

"They are, but not for long, I think. They require high levels of oxygen to survive and their ship is failing," replied Shar.

"We will do the memory scans whilst they are fresh," Kather suggested. "I'll put the scanner on the dark one, you do a physical inspection of the other."

So saying he reached into the case and withdrew a metal frame with long leads. He laid it beside Tuvok, then removed the shattered helmet from his head and located the frame around his skull. Reaching into the case for a second time he activated a switch. A blue haze formed around Tuvoks skull. "It will take some time, perhaps twenty clicks," he opined, examining the readings from the dials in the case.

His partner grunted, as he slit the space suit from Seven of Nine's body. "I think this one will be more responsive to the scan," he commented, "See how she twitches to a light touch." He demonstrated by dragging the nails of his hand down her stomach, watching Seven twitch spasmodically.

"I would say this is a female biped mammal. She is designed for live berth, mammary glands, wide hips, interior genitals," He announced examining her closely. "I do not understand the need for the mechanical apparatus attached to her cranium." He tapped the implant above her eye.

"Perhaps she is defective in some way?" Kather suggested. "We will find out when we attach the bio-scan."

"They are ugly though, no scales and the external differences, why do they need them, can't they tell by taste?" He commented as he settled down to wait for the memory scan to complete.

"It is a pity they are so badly damaged, they would make interesting specimens to test and find out," Shar agreed comfortably, joining his partner.

After an hours fruitless search the Colonel commented. "The shuttle was shot at by an unseen enemy, we almost missed this projection thingy, are we looking in the right place?"

"What are you suggesting?" B'Elanna asked quietly.

"What I think I'm suggesting,” he claimed guardedly. “Is that the shuttle was hit by one of the projections and it is a portal of some sort. Most of these rocks we're dodging aren't a great magnitude bigger than the shuttle. If it crashed on one of them, or was simply floating dead, we ought to be able to find it comparatively easily, with all this whizzy technology. Are there any rocks of appreciable size?"

"I think you could be right, we're not getting anywhere here," agreed Torres cautiously. "But we can't go and simply fly onto one of the projections, we don't know what will happen!"

"And I thought you were explorers ready to plunge into the unknown!" The Colonel exclaimed. "Lets have a chat with the Captain and see what she suggests?"

Paris acknowledged the suggestion by opening a comms link to Voyager.

"Flyer to Voyager."

"Janeway here, report!" Came the quick reply.

"There is no sign of the shuttle. But we've found what could be a portal to an alternate universe. The Colonel thinks that the shuttle may have been dragged in to that," he responded. "Do you want us to follow them?"

"Is there anyway of sending a probe in to try and find them?" She asked.

Tom looked at B'Elanna, she shrugged.

"We don't know!" He replied. "We aren't sure what sort of alternate universe it is!"

"Return to Voyager, we'll send a probe then we can consider the problem more carefully," ordered the Captain, closing the link.

Tom Paris turned the flyer about and set course for Voyager.

"Lieutenant Torres, how much longer could emergency life support last on the shuttle if it is there?" The Colonel asked quietly.

"Probably another five hours," she replied honestly.

"It will take us two to return to Voyager, say three for a probe to hit the right projection and locate them, another two for us to return. The numbers are awfully tight aren't they?"

"We can't just sit here," she pointed out.

"No we can't," he admitted thoughtfully examining the console in front of him.

The Colonel looked up. "Okay, Lady, Gentleman and photonic projection. Under the powers vested in me by my rank in Her Majesties Forces, I hereby commandeer the Delta Flyer in the name of the Queen of England. If anybody wishes to try to be violent, I would find it most regrettable and I promise not to use more than minimal force. Please put that hypodermic away Doctor."

"You’re thinking of flying into a portal, even though you don't know where it goes or how to get back?" Paris asked in surprise.

"We must be able to get back if these rocks show on the other side," the Colonel reasoned. "If you do not wish to come. Then I am prepared to beam you onto Voyager?" He offered the option. "I'd prefer to take you all with me because your all better at this game than I am, but I'll not take anybody that is squeamish!"

"If you fail and the probe finds them it will be difficult to recover them and the Captain will hang us," Torres put in, alarmed by the suggestion.

"The only person the Captain will hang is me. I have committed an act of piracy, only legitimised by declaring rank. I see no other way for us to get to Lieutenant Commander Tuvok and Miss Nine before their life support fails. Get the Captain on the line again please Lieutenant."

"Janeway here!" Her reply came for the second time.

"Excuse me, Ma'am." The Colonel intercepted. "But we've done a few calculations here. By the time the probe finds the missing shuttle, it will in all probability be too late for it's occupants."

"There is little choice, I don't want to lose anymore crew," She replied uncomfortably.

"There is always a choice, Ma'am. I'm going to take the shuttle in. I'd rather have your blessing though. I'd also like to take it's crew with me, if both you and they are willing, but if not, then I'll return them to you and go on my own."

"You can't do that! It's piracy!" She screamed.

"I can, Ma'am, and I have. I have relieved the crew of the flyer. It comes under 'Requisitioning of Materiel in Emergency Situations' in the Queens Regulations. I'll supply the required paperwork when I return. I could also commandeer the crew as well Ma'am.." he warned.

On the bridge the Captain made a 'Cut my throat' action to kill the link, then looked at Chakotay in fury. "What does he think he's upto? What does he think he can achieve on his own?"

"I don't know, but he is right about life support on the shuttle, it would be very tight," Chakotay responded. "He will also do as he claims, whatever you decide."

"I know!" She hissed.

She took a deep breath to regain her composure. "Open the link!" She commanded.

Kim at his station did so.

"Tom, B'Elanna, how do you asses the situation? Are you prepared to follow the Colonel?" She asked.

Paris and Torres looked at each other. Torres gave a small nod of her head.

"Yes Captain, we'll go. He is right about the life support on the shuttle, if it was in anyway damaged they won't have that long." Tom relayed in resignation.

"Colonel, I suggest you wait and follow the probe in," the Captain agreed reluctantly. "But if you're in anyway wrong I'll have your head on a platter."

"Thank you, Ma'am. But if I'm wrong you won't have my head to serve, I won't be coming back!" He replied stiffly.

The Colonel turned to Tom Paris. "I think there is agreement, adjust course for that dark thing we almost rammed please, Mr Paris," he requested politely.

"I'm bringing the shields up," Torres announced.

"I think that may be a mistake," the Colonel suggested. "If this grey stuff is absorbing standard sensor output, it does not seem unreasonable for it to absorb the shields as well, does it?"

She thought for a moment. "I can invert the shield frequencies?" she offered.

"Will that help? We'll still be putting out emissions. I think I'd put my efforts in detecting whatever is on the other side before we hit it," he suggested mildly.

"Now Mister Paris. As I am about to violate the Captain's direct order, would you prefer me to take us through the portal, for your protection?"

Tom Paris shook his head in the negative.

Aboard the shuttle Seven of Nine was coming around slowly and painfully. She saw the two aliens watching something in the case. There was a fuzziness in her head and was having severe problems breathing, she couldn't determine why.

Involuntarily she groaned as the pain in her chest hit her. They looked around sharply. One reached for his discarded weapon, but the other stopped him.

"Who and what are you?" He hissed.

"My designation is Seven of Nine, human," she responded, then coughed violently sending wracks of pain shooting through her body. "I am damaged," she whispered.

"You will die soon, then we can eat!" The first assured her.

A look of realisation and horror passed across her face. “You are cannibals,” she whispered in shock as she passed into unconsciousness again.

The Delta Flyer with Tom Paris at the controls headed into the inky abyss that was a projection from another galaxy. He flew as slowly as he could, trying to give B'Elanna time to give warning of impending disasters. Even so there was only thirty seconds of blackness before they emerged into starlight again. He immediately brought the Flyer to a halt.

"Was there anything?" He asked in confusion, to the naked eye there was little difference between the two sides.

"Beats me," The Colonel admitted. "Make a note of our position, then perhaps we can go back the way we came in. Miss Torres, your opinion please?"

"The shadow is behind us," admitted Torres from her console. "And we're not where we were, the stars have been reversed!"

"So all we need is a white rabbit and the Queen of Hearts, then things will be complete!" The Colonel commented.

"Alice Through the Looking Glass," he explained to the confused looks. "Classic childrens literature, isn't there any fantasy in this century!" He pleaded.

"We are here so what now?" Paris asked, bringing them back to their immediate problem and avoiding having to answer the Colonel.

"Let's start at the beginning, with what we know," suggested the Colonel.

"We know that the shuttle was our side of the mirror when it was attacked, so it is reasonable to think they may have coasted through. Correct?" He queried.

"Yes!" Tom Paris agreed slowly.

"Miss Torres. Given that it is now some four hours since the shuttle was lost and that the rocks this side of the glass appear to be bigger and therefore presumably more stable in where they go. Are there any that would have been close to this point when they came through?"

"I don't know, I'll try and work it out. You are assuming that they came through the same hole and that it is static," She opined from her seat.

"I am gambling on a lot of things," he admitted. "Like I’m gambling on this being the same universe, it being the same window they fell through and it will still be here when we get back. If we have all that then the mathematics should be simple trigonometry. At least it should be to you!"

Torres bent to her terminal with a grin. Five minutes later she looked up. "I think we may be in with a chance!" She announced. "There are two asteroids big enough to land the shuttle on."

"Which would you use if you had a damaged shuttle?" He asked.

"Neither is what I'd call hospitable," she admitted. "But one looks as though it has an atmosphere of sorts, it's also smaller than the other, so there would be a better chance if the shuttle crashed."

"Excellent, we'll try there first. Mr Paris if you please, and somewhat faster than is safe if you will," he ordered.

"Aye Sir!" Paris responded.

"How long before the probe arrives?" The Colonel asked.

"About two hours. Why?" Torres said, checking the chronometer.

"Because if we're lucky we can use it to check how far the window moved, a sort of signpost," the Colonel explained patiently.

Aboard the Voyager, Ensign Kin swallowed hard and took a deep breath, before he dared tell the Captain that the Flyer had disappeared. It was a wise precaution as the Captain exploded from her chair in fury.

"He's done What!" She screamed.

“The Flyer has disappeared," he repeated his warning. "There was no indication that they were under attack, or that there was anything infront of them. They were simply in empty space then they weren’t there.”

“Perhaps they simply overshot the portal,” suggested Chakotay hopefully. “It must be as difficult for them to detect as us.”

“No. He’s deliberately disobeyed my orders,” she stormed. “I told them not to go in before the probe entered. I want him brigged the moment they return!”

“If they return,” she added quietly considering her hands for a moment.

“Kim, enhance the sensors, see if we can see anything inside the portal,” she ordered looking up.

She slumped back into her chair to await the return of the shuttles in a mixture of fury and frustration.

With Tom Paris flying the shuttle as fast as he dared through the rock strewn space they caught the asteroid they were interested in less than forty minutes. As they entered orbit Torres exclaimed excitedly. "You were right, I've got the shuttles distress beacon."

"Where is it and will it be safe to beam down to the shuttle?" The Colonel asked urgently.

"I've got a fix, there are life signs, but I don't know about transporter safety," came her disconcerting reply.

"Can we test it? Or do we have to land?" He asked.

"Landing is the easiest," Paris volunteered.

"It's also the most dangerous if the enemy is still around," replied the Colonel evenly.

"I've nothing to test it with," Torres responded.

The Colonel grunted his disappointment at her, then turned to Tom Paris. "Tell me Lieutenant have you ever done a rolling drop?"

"What's that?" He asked.

"It's were you fly low and slow and I jump out the back with the Doctor."

"You’re mad, it can't be done!" He protested.

"Nonsense, I used to do it all the time!" The Colonel responded cheerfully, "It should be easier here, you can fly lower and slower than a Hercules and there is less to pull me down."

"But you’re not suit trained yet and if you trip and puncture the suit you'll suffocate in less than five minutes," protested Torres.

"It's time I learnt then. Let's get suited up. Doctor I suggest we deactivate you, then we’ll reactivate you when we're on the ground. That way we're less likely to do you some damage. I assume it is possible to reactivate you remotely?"

"I can rig something up, Colonel," Torres replied.

The Colonel reached for one of the Emergency Survival suits and started to put it on as Torres explained the workings to him.

"If you do damage the suit, press this button, we'll beam you out immediately," she advised, pointing to a red button on the cuff.

He nodded his understanding. "Mr Paris, according to Miss Torres's mapping, there is a smoothish area about three miles from the shuttle. I want you to fly along it, as low and as slow as you can, about ten feet up and no faster than ten miles per hour would be ideal, but I'll leave that to you. As soon as I jump, get the hell away and wait for a signal. Keep on the look out for anything hostile. If possible avoid them, if not attack as though you mean it. Don't piss about with friendly greetings until they know you mean business. We're too far from useful support to be gentlemanly about things and we know they have shown hostile intent to our shuttle, so bugger Star Fleet protocols, you strike fast, first and hard," he demanded.

"Sir!" Paris responded tartly.

Tom Paris concentrating hard, brought the Flyer in as low and as slow as he dared, but he couldn't quite achieve the Colonel's desired specification, the terrain wasn't as flat as they had thought, tall and jagged rocks jutted from the sandy ground. "It'll do," he heard on the intercom, then there was B'Elanna shouting at him, "He's gone! I'm shutting the door!"

Desperately he applied power as the ship approached a new outcrop of rocks. The Flyer shot upwards, leaving the Colonel on the asteroid.

The Flyer shooting into the night sky again triggered a warning aboard the shuttle. The two Hithrar's looked at each other in surprise.

"We have company, Kather," hissed Shar in mild surprise, "Perhaps they are a rescue party for these two."

"Maybe they will be more accommodating with information and die a little quicker?" Suggested Shar, "We should prepare deal with them."

Over the previous hour both Seven and Tuvok had woken, but had quickly subsided into unconsciousness again as the pain from their wounds overcame them. Leaving the two Hithrar's frustrated with only snatches of information about their captives. So far they had learnt that they were from somewhere called the Alpha Quadrant and they were members of the United Federation Star Ship Voyager. Their captives had claimed that a rescue attempt would be made, but as their mother ship was nowhere to be seen, it seemed unlikely they would arrive before they died. They had tried to entice them to send a signal to their mother ship, to get it to come for them, certain in the knowledge that Voyager's weapons and sensors would be as effective against them as the shuttles had been and the peculiar circumstances in their galaxy would quickly render the ship inoperable as it’s vital life supporting energy was stripped away. But their captives were too badly injured and confused to make it practical.

They had also claimed to be peaceful explorers, but that seemed unlikely to them. They had discussed the concept of exploration for explorations sake in depth between themselves over the hour they had waited.

In the Hithrar's galaxy, resources, particularly food and power, were too scarce to make simple exploration a viable proposition. There was a legend amongst their people that theirs was once a proud race that lived on many planets. But they had been destroyed, leaving the remains of their race to eek out an existence on the remains of those same planets. But that was many hundreds of generations ago, and they had since evolved to live in small groups on small planetoids. As a result they had become nomadic cannibals, prepared to fight and steal to obtain the food and supplies they required.

The concept of plentiful materials and power to waste was an anathema. The chronic lack of power caused by the rocks and dust of their known galaxy absorbing energy like a sponge, was what led them to the course of action they were now pursuing. They let their captives die, slowly and painfully if necessary. They lacked the physical strength in their spidery and ultra light bodies to kill in hand to hand fashion nor was there energy to waste to kill unless necessary.

The Hithrars were also cowards, both realising if one got hurt the other would not attempt to help them.

They had discovered this particular zone of portals into other galaxies and universes by accident some fifteen months earlier. They had stayed because it had proven to be easy to obtain proteins from the ships that strayed into their universe and had subsequently been unable to find a way out again.

In common with many reptilian life forms Hithrars were unable to feed directly on fresh flesh, so they waited for their food to start to decay before they could dine. They had managed to capture three more vessels, enticing them to pass through the portals by swift attacks from their ship. Now they waited patiently for the dead crews to decompose to suit their needs.

They rose from their seated positions and prepared to greet their prospective dinner.

The twenty foot drop from the flyer seemed to take an eternity to the Colonel, but the landing still came as a sharp surprise as he allowed his knees to buckle and himself to roll to a halt. He had omitted to tell Tom Paris that a rolling drop was usually conducted from pallets fitted with drag chutes, or that the aircraft was normally rolling on the ground to perform the action, believing that the low gravity on the asteroid and the Flyer's ability to fly slowly would more than compensate for the differences. A belief that was essentially correct, but still managed to knock the wind out of him as he crunched to the ground.

He picked himself up and retrieved his pack, from a pocket of which he took the Doctor's emitter, this he placed on the ground. "You can wake up now, Doctor," He called.

The Doctor shimmered into life infront of him.

"I assume that you won't have problems with the limited gravity?" The Colonel asked quietly.

"I have had to adjust my parameters to compensate," the Doctor complained.

"Think yourself lucky. I don't have parameters that can be adjusted like that. I think we will go that way," The Colonel pointed in a direction, "Then we can work our way up towards the shuttle and the rear door. Then perhaps we can see what we're up against without being seen so easily."

He set off at his usual quick pace, but quickly modified it to a slower ‘sand shuffle’ as he found that the low gravity was sending him six feet in the air at each pace and leaving him staggering as he came down again. "Bugger!" He fumed, as he settled back to a sand shuffle, "This will take forever!"

Even the his shortened pace brought them both up behind the shuttle in less than 40 minutes after setting off. They observed the stricken ship carefully from behind a ridge of rock. The rear door was open, invitingly. Too invitingly for the Colonel's preference, given the low levels of oxygen in the air. The Doctor was impatient to get to the shuttle, but the Colonel stopped him as he carefully scanned the surrounding area.

Finally he said. "You'll be quicker than me because of the lack of gravity. When I say go. Run like the clappers for the shuttle, once in shut and secure the door, until I say otherwise. I know there is somebody out here but I can't see them."

"There is nothing on the Tricorder," commented the Doctor.

"Then who opened the door?" The Colonel asked. "Certainly not our people. No, there is somebody else here. Now Go!" He pushed the Doctor forward, and resumed his scanning of the surroundings.

The Doctor started to walk forward. "I said run!" The Colonel shouted after him.

"There is nothing to be worried about.." The Doctor started, to be interrupted by the Colonel.

"Down!" He roared, catching sight of a green flash from behind another rocky outcrop some 80 yards away. He brought his rifle up and fired off a rapid burst, and was rewarded to see two figures leap up from behind their shelter and sprint away as rocky shards rained down around them. The way the rocks seemed to disintegrate as they were struck by the light bullets from his rifle puzzled him.

He leapt up himself and ran for the Doctor's last position. He found his emitter and picked it up and continued to sprint for the shuttle, heedless of the flying leaps he was taking. Arriving he threw the emitter through the door and closed it, simultaneously opening a communications channel with the Flyer, "Torres, the Doctor is down! Attempt remote activation. I have hostile company."

He sprinted after the fleeing aggressors.

Aboard the Flyer, Tom and B'Elanna had been concentrating on scanning for any form of ship, finding nothing in space they had started a sensor sweep of the asteroid for anything that may have been hidden there. They had easily detected the Colonel and Doctor making their way for the stricken shuttle, but otherwise there was nothing else.

She was also keeping an eye on a slow but steady power loss they were experiencing, she couldn’t work out where it was going, but ships power was down by nearly 10%. In a fit of inspiration she turned the shields off. It had an effect, the power loss slowed down. She brought it to Tom Paris’s attention.

“We shouldn’t be here for more than another hour or so, so it shouldn’t be a severe problem,” he thought out loud. “Is there anything else we can turn off to reduce the power loss?”

“Nothing I can think of except the sensors,” Torres suggested. “They aren’t achieving much!”

The Colonel's emergency call caught them by surprise. Desperately B'Elanna turned for her jury rigged controls to reactivate the Doctor. It failed, frantically she tried again, with the same result.

"Colonel, I can't reactivate the Doctor, he must have been damaged!" She called over the comms link.

"Roger!" Came his now calm reply. "These buggers down here seem to be more at home here than I am. They certainly move quicker than I can and don't appear to be wearing protective clothing. So I'm going to have to wait for them to come to me. I'm returning to the shuttle. Keep an eye open, if they have a ship they may try and launch it!"

"Okay," Torres called. "We'll keep an eye open," She agreed pensively, though relieved that things weren't going any worse.

The Colonel made his way quickly back to the shuttle and entered. A quick glance was all he required to ensure he was free of undesirable intrusions. He picked up the Doctor's emitter and examined it. It appeared undamaged so he put it on a console. "Come on you lazy bugger," he swore at it. "I need your help, so stop sulking!" Nothing happened.

Resigned to the fact he was going to get no assistance from the Doctor, he removed his helmet and turned to examine his crew mates.

Tuvok looked a mess, blood covering his face. A closer physical inspection suggested a broken arm and possibly a rib. He could see splinters in his face, but resisted the impulse to remove them for the moment, it would be easier on the Flyer and easier still on Voyager.

Seven of Nine was of more concern, her breathing was shallow her skin starting to turn slightly blue and pasty, she would need immediate attention. Again he cursed the Doctor for dithering on his way to the shuttle and getting damaged, then realised it probably wasn't all his fault, he wasn't a battlefield medic.

He called up the Flyer. "Miss Torres, we are definitely going to require the transporter. Beam us out one at a time, start with the Doctor's emitter to check you've got everything set right, let me know when you’re happy." He commanded.

"Okay," came the reply.

He watched as the Doctor's emitter faded, it seemed to take an unusual amount of time. He bent and splinted Tuvoks arm and taped his chest up as well as he could, whilst waiting for a signal from the Flyer. He had returned to Seven of Nine before it came.

"We've got him, but it's going to take some time to get you all out," Torres's voice floated to him.

"Roger, take Tuvok next. I've identified a broken arm and rib, lacerations to face, probably a broken nose, numerous splinter wounds. Nothing life threatening. Miss Nine is significantly worse. I think she may have a collapsed lung, I'm going to have to insert a catheter to drain the fluids, can Mr Paris offer medical advice?" He queried.

Aboard the Flyer Tom shook his head at Torres. "We don't treat people like that anymore, Colonel," she replied for him.

"How do you do it then?" The Colonel's voice screamed back at them.

"We use a medical transporter and beam it out," Paris replied easily.

"And I suppose you have one in your pocket?" The Colonel replied sarcastically. "Never mind I'll cope."

Quickly he searched the shuttle, finding a length of thin tubing he sought out a length of wire, ripping some heavy cabling from a control panel. He again returned to Seven of Nine, she was regaining consciousness.

"Hush sweetheart!" He whispered in her ear as she moaned. "I'm here, I'll look after you!" He wiped her fevered brow with a handkerchief.

"I can't breath!" She gasped.

"I know." He assured her. "I'm going to try and relieve that for you. You will feel a stab and a bit of pulling. But I don't think it will hurt as much as you're feeling now."

Quickly he cut part of her clothing away from her chest, thread the tubing over the wire he had obtained and tested the area of introduction. Gritting his teeth and praying he had chosen the right spot, remembered from his first aid training many years ago, he plunged the wire into the side of her chest. Pushed the tubing in, along the wire and pulled the wire out again, he was rewarded as blood and puss started to trickle out and her breathing almost immediately seemed to ease.

With a sigh of relief, he sat back on his haunches again, then leaning forward he kissed her firmly on the lips, blowing hard. She opened her eye's in surprise and tried to shake him off, but he held on as he tried to force the re-inflation of the lung, finally he pulled away.

"You'll be alright now," he whispered breathlessly, gripping her hand firmly in his.

"Regaining his breath he opened the channel to the Flyer again. "Miss Torres are you ready for Miss Nine?"

"Just about. How is she?"

"I think she will be okay. I've drained the lung and it is re-inflating again, but I suggest you don't remove the catheter until you get to Voyager and/or the Doctor is available. How long before the probe arrives?"

"We reckon about thirty minutes."

"Take her now, please. I'm going to check and see if my guest's have returned. If it takes longer than five minutes to beam her up then get the hell out and get into position to meet the probe when it comes through the