A Holodeck fault strands Colonel Samuels and Naomi Wildman on a strange ship in a strange Universe.

Voyager and the characters aboard her (except the Colonel and additional characters) in this story are copyright of Paramount. No resemblance is intended to any person alive or dead.

Constructive criticism and comments are welcome on e-mail story@rgower.plus.com

If like me you like to know why things occur like they do, I would heartily recommend you start at chapter 1-01 Castaway.

“We have three candidates. Ensigns Kim, Carver and Winston,” Captain Janeway offered guardedly to Chakotay.

The need to find a replacement for Tuvok to handle tactical was an imperative. The taciturn Vulcan had entered his final attempt at the ‘Healing Trance’ to attempt the cure for his paralysis over a week ago. For various reasons they had simply put the decision off, as Voyager had made boundless jumps with her Transwarp Drive. In ten days they had covered over two thousand light years and crew morale had leapt because off the rapid progress. But now they were reduced to ordinary warp speeds as B’Elanna had curtailed their progress in fear of her rapidly diminishing supply of Dilithium. The Captain and Commander were forced to discuss the matter with each other formally.

“Harry is overdue his pips,” Chakotay observed. “I think he keeps looking under his pillow to see if they’ve arrived overnight.”

“He is popular, quick to respond and calm,” Chakotay agreed, inspecting his copy of the crew reports. “He could become quite good. But Winston is more inventive, has the confidence and has had command experience on other ships.”

“His reports suggest he is inclined to disobey orders and attempts to react irrationally and independently, for self preservation and not for the good of those around him” the Captain observed. “He finds being part of a team difficult. It was one of the reasons for his demotion.”

“I agree with the comments about independence,” Chakotay agreed mildly. “He pretty well commandeered Argonaut. But he has mellowed and learnt a lot on the Dog Watch. He reacts very different to how he did in the reports. In fact I’d say the whole of the Dog Watch have taken the Colonel’s lessons to heart.”

“I think that is the point,” the Captain interjected. “We are considering Winston and Carver over Harry Kim because they have been drilled and conditioned to think like nobody aboard the ship. Remember we are looking for the third officer aboard ship, they will have to be able to take command of Voyager, possibly in dangerous situations.”

Chakotay made a face somewhere between grin and grimace. “The training manuals were torn up and ceremonially burnt when we gave the Colonel the Dog Watch,” he observed. “But I agree, if there is trouble, there is nobody I would rather stand behind for protection than the Colonel and his methods have rubbed off on both Winston and Carver.”

He paused for a moment. “I don’t know if I would be entirely happy with Winston yet,” he admitted reflectively. “He gives the impression of being just a little too eager for command. Perhaps a secondary watch?”

“I think we need to break with tradition,” the Captain decided. “I’ll give Carver Tactical and see how he performs. Harry has had some command experience, even if it hasn’t been dangerous. We’ll push that. And Winston can build on his command experience by taking the Dog Watch from the Colonel.”

“Besides,” she added with a grin. “Just because he has refused to be given the ship, doesn’t mean he won’t take it when things get rough and we need him.”

“Okay,” she finished. “We’ll give them the news. It will close one of the rumours off. Then you can go and look after the other.”

Chakotay blushed a mild pink. “I’ve told you Kathryn. There is really nothing in it!” He protested quickly.

Too quickly for the Captains taste, but she let it ride as she summoned the three candidates.

The heavy punch bag shivered as it received yet another salvo of blows from heavy fists. The leatherwork was starting to look worse for wear from the almost continuous bombardment it had received during the last hour, B’Elanna decided straightening up from her own exercises on the bench press.

The Colonel had offered the simulation to her after she had confessed over breakfast in the Mess that she had had a bad night shift, suggesting it was the safest way of removing the frustrations, especially for Tom. She had laughed and good naturedly offered to share it with him.

Now tired and far more relaxed she wiped her face on a towel and watched the tall Colonel attempting to demolish the sack, in a mixture of awe and amusement. If her night in Engineering had been frustrating enough for an hour of hard physical callisthenics, then the Colonels must have been much worse. Where as her vest and jogging pants had soaked up the sweat, there was a positive pool around the Colonels feet as he put all of his energy into attacking the sack.

Carefully she stood and approached him. “I don’t think you’ll split it before there is a knock on the door, no matter how hard you hit it,” she opined easily.

“Who? What? Where?” The Colonel blurted coming to a sudden stop as his concentration was broken.

“I’m sorry Lieutenant. I was getting carried away,” he apologised with a grin and accepting the towel she offered.

“Seven’s pregnancy is hard work?” B’Elanna suggested mildly, noticing that the damage from the Colonel’s efforts had not been entirely one way. His knuckles had been badly scuffed and blood was oozing.

“Much harder for me than her at the moment,” the Colonel admitted, allowing himself to be led towards the medical cabinet.

“You know, she won’t even let me get her a cup of tea in the morning?” He complained. “She was never that independent before!”

“Perhaps she doesn’t want tannin poisoning as well as backache?” B’Elanna suggested happily, running the medikit regenerator over his knuckles.

“I’ve been very good!” The Colonel protested. “I can make it as weak as Mr Neelix now! Even worked out how to get the replicator to over-sweeten it for her!”

“She has developed a sweet-tooth,” B’Elanna agreed. “But I still think the way she told you was cruel.”

In fact Seven of Nine’s approach to telling the Colonel she was expecting a baby had gained him a notable amount of sympathy from a large proportion of the crew.

“Dare say I deserved it. And she was probably right. I would have been an insufferable bore,” the Colonel sighed. “I think I would really hate me. If I were to meet me somewhere. Of course I will be fascinated to see how it is supposed to be done when you tell Mr Paris?”

“Mrs Paris. I can tell you, with great certainty. Babies happen, planned or not!” The Colonel declared with great conviction. “Now I thank you profusely for permitting me to share your programme and patching me up again, but must dash or I’ll be late for my luncheon date.”

“Bit early isn’t it. It’s not 10:00. Who is it with?” B’Elanna challenged. “It can’t be Seven. She’s regenerating. So perhaps I can start a new rumour?”

“Miss Naomi Wildman. She wants me to take her on a picnic in the woods,” the Colonel admitted. “All above board I assure you. I got permission from Mrs Nine first.”

“Have you heard the story about Commander Chakotay and Ensign Abbott?” Naomi asked cheerfully as the Colonel appeared for their holodeck appointment. “They are going to be married!”

For a brief moment the Colonel’s face darkened then brightened again. “I’ve heard better ones,” he countered. “The Captain wants to replace all the crew over the age of sixteen.”

“That’s silly. There is only me and I’m only half as efficient as Seven,” Naomi giggled.

“So are most stories on the surface,” the Colonel confided. “That is why they are stories. Now what have you got planned for me that requires an all day session? Another of your holo-lessons to embarrass me because I don’t understand it, or something I will be really bad at?”

“I thought we could do my natural history project?” Naomi confessed. “Ensign Hemmark gave me this programme to see how many animals and plants I could identify.”

The Colonel grinned. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to help much,” he admitted. “My limit is finding things to eat and hit people with. Still we’ll give it a go.”

“Not bad,” the Colonel confessed after a moments glance. “That is a lime tree, a couple of oaks, spruce, ash. Don’t see those together mind. But I suppose for a learning thing it’s okay. What else can you see?”

“That’s a silver birch,” Naomi declared proudly, pointing at a silver trunk, “and a raspberry bush?”

“Actually I think it’s a loganberry,” the Colonel corrected her. “Try your tri-corder on it.”

Naomi did so, then pulled a face at him as the tri-corder offered its answer. “Are you always right?” she complained.

“Not always,” the Colonel confided. “But this is all simple stuff. I dare say we will find how wrong I can be later. Come on.” He offered a large hand to her and they strolled further into the programme.

The Bridge lift door slid open and Ensign Carver stepped out, not nervously or timidly, it was a trait that his previous shift commander stamped on with great vigour, but firmly, slamming to attention just over the threshold.

The Captain turned in her seat and flashed him a smile, she had never heard him admit to his Christian name before. “Don’t you start!” She scolded lightly. “It’s bad enough with the Colonel. At least he has an excuse. Take your station Ensign and welcome to the Alpha watch.”

There was the faintest of bumps in the ships smooth progress, it would not have been noticed except a small alarm flashed upon the console in front of Ensign Kim.

“We struck an energy pulse, Captain,” he reported dutifully. “It tripped a couple of relays on the holodecks, but there was nothing running. Engineering are responding. No damage reported.”

The Colonel produced cups and a thermos-flask and offered a drink to Naomi as they sat and rested, their backs against a large Bilbao tree. Now as they sat they compared notes of what they had actually seen.

So far Naomi had managed to identify 60 species of fauna and, with gentle coaxing from the Colonel, six sets of tracks. She was proud of the last, she had had to decipher them without the aid of the tri-corder, using her best judgement. Then she and the Colonel followed them to check if she was right.

The Colonel had noted a couple more, but freely admitted not knowing what any of them were by name. Even those he had named, the names he used could not be matched with Naomi’s ever correct tri-corder.

“I think a lot of the names have changed over the years,” he sighed. “Names like ‘Ladies Fingers’ are country names. They often had a totally different name in the next county. Even village, if it comes to that. If you can remember them, you ought to quote the latin names at Ensign Hemmark, if he tests you. You’ll gain extra points for that.”

“I think your names are nicer than the proper ones,” Naomi protested, looking at the small bunch of colourful flowers that they had picked as they had strolled. “They describe them better!”

“I want to be a soldier like you, when I grow up,” Naomi suddenly announced. “You know all of these things, yet you never had to learn.”

The Colonel halfway through swallowing the remains of his tea, choked violently, spurting warm brown fluid over his jacket.

“No you don’t!” He snapped as he patted at the damp patch with a handkerchief. “You are too intelligent to be a soldier. Becoming a soldier is strictly for those that can’t do anything else.”

“You don’t have to volunteer to be killed to learn like me. Just remember that the locals may have a better idea as to what you are looking at than you do, then you will look clever as well. Remember it has taken me fifty years to learn these things that you find impressive. But I need to use paper and pen to do sums you can do in your head!”

He stretched lazily, checked his wristwatch and smiled gently at Naomi’s horror struck face. “Come on another forty minutes to see what we have missed, then we can call it a day and you can help me with a little project.”

“I thought I ought to get at least a little revenge,” the Colonel confided. “So I think I’ve found a little gift to do it with.”

There was something a little odd, the Colonel decided when they stepped out of the holodeck. The corridor was empty, it was unusual at almost anytime of day and it was the middle of the afternoon. He ignored the feeling it generated and offered Naomi his hand, together they wandered towards his quarters

“I found some drawings of a ‘Chinese Puzzle Box’ in the computer yesterday,” the Colonel explained. “I want to make one, but I haven’t the time to make it from real materials. I’m hoping you can replicate the parts for me.”

“It is a little box with secret compartments that can only be opened by releasing sometimes secret triggers and latches in a precise order,” the Colonel described. “Obviously as it is Mrs Nine we are going to have to make some of those latches very secret. But I thought if I stole her tri-corder to stop her cheating, even put it in the box, along with a few other little treasures, she would be kept amused for a while trying to gain access.”

Naomi scanned the drawings of the parts the Colonel wanted with some trepidation. She might well be more capable with the replicator than the Colonel, but everybody was. She suspected getting the parts he actually wanted was going to be beyond her. She voiced that concern to the Colonel.

“Most of the parts are simple wooden rectangles and squares,” he said gently. “If you can do those and provide simple strips of metal, I can make the latches.”

The end of an uneventful shift loomed on the Bridge. Captain Janeway, bored with watching the few stars slip by, stood and stretched before heading for her Ready Room and a coffee. Chakotay was taking the following watch and they knew each other well enough not to need to brief each other. Not there was anything to say.

The door had opened for her before the worried voice of Ensign Wildman sounded. “Ensign Wildman to the Bridge. Do you have the Colonel or Naomi up there?”

“No they aren’t,” the Captain responded quickly. “Aren’t they in the Mess with Neelix?”

“No, Captain. He hasn’t seen them since this morning. They’re not in the Colonel’s or my quarters either. I checked first.”

“Cargo Bay 2? Seven is about due to come out of regeneration, so the Colonel will go there. Perhaps Naomi went with him?” The Captain suggested.

“They’re not! I’ve been there too. The computer can’t find them either!” Samantha Wildman was starting to sound desperate.

The Captain turned a questioning eye on Carver who was busy at his terminal. He looked up and shook his head as he caught her eye, confirming Wildman’s claim.

“No shuttle, airlock or transporter activity for the last two weeks. Starting a deck by deck search, Ma’am,” he reported calmly. “Activated six security teams and put out a general alert. We’ll find them.”

The Captain smiled. Carver had over heard the conversation and had reacted immediately. He was going to prove to be a good substitute for Tuvok.

“We’ll find them Samantha,” she parroted turning back for her seat to await the conclusion. The Colonel was going to need another reprimand for removing his communicator if nothing else.

“Aren’t you getting hungry?” The Colonel asked mildly, looking up from the complex assembly operation.

He and Naomi had been working on the box for what felt like hours, yet the chronometer on the wall suggested it had been barely three, the gnawing feeling in his stomach suggested much longer still, though recently it had been a less than reliable time piece, thanks at least in part to the Doctors new regeneration scheme for Seven of Nine.

“I was, but I ate some of the sweets you replicated,” Naomi admitted. “They were nice.”

“They were to go in the secret pockets!” The Colonel chided in mock horror, looking at the now empty container that had contained a full pound of fudge.

“I can make some more!” Naomi offered quickly. “I’m sure mommy won’t mind and has the rations?”

“I think your mother has enough problems keeping you in clothes,” the Colonel observed with a wry grin. “I’m surprised you still fit after polishing off that lot! Oh well, we’re nearly finished. Another half hour then we can go and get something from the Mess.”

“Colonel Samuels and Naomi Wildman are not on the ship, Captain,” Carver announced to the Captain. The search had taken nearly six hours and she was becoming anxious.

“Down to the landing strut bays, ventilation ducts and last Jefferies tube,” Carver admitted. “Even had Engineering check bulkhead spaces. I’ve even had the frequencies that his implant uses scanned. Unless the Colonel really doesn’t want to be found and has found somewhere that the ship doesn’t know about, then he is not on the ship.”

Captain Janeway slumped back in her chair, stumped for any alternatives to offer for the search. Carver had managed to check in places not normally accessible, the space between the inner and outer hulls for instance.

“I’m going to get Seven, if she can’t work out where he’s gone then nobody can. I’ll bring Sam Wildman up as well,” she said heavily, rising to her feet. “We need to put our heads together. Staff conference in forty minutes.”

Seven of Nine’s eyes snapped open as if she had just been switched on. Not far from the truth as the Captain had simply aborted the regeneration cycle.

“Warning, regeneration cycle has been terminated. Warning, regeneration cycle not completed,” the computers warning bleats of protest were the first thing to register on Seven of Nines mind as she scanned for the reason behind the interruption.

She saw the Captain at the terminal in front of the alcove and a worried Ensign Wildman behind it, but for once her husband was missing. The last fact puzzled and disappointed her. Despite the illogicality of the act, she had come to appreciate, desire, even enjoy, the embrace and caress that always accompanied the end of a regeneration cycle.

“State the reason for termination of my regeneration cycle?” She demanded, stepping stiffly from the platform.

“The Colonel has disappeared with Naomi Wildman,” the Captain explained. “I’m hoping you can tell me where he’s gone?”

“I have been in regeneration for 17 hour 35 minutes,” Seven of Nine observed impassively. “I have not physically witnessed his presence since then.”

“In that case you had better attend the meeting in the Conference Room,” the Captain suggested mildly, gently taking Samantha Wildman by the arm and leading her towards the door.

“You had better start by listing where you’ve had searched,” the Captain demanded brusquely of Carver in staff conference.

“Physical checks in all rooms on the ship, Jefferies Tubes and major ventilation ducts,” Carver announced quickly. “Full sensor scans of minor ducts and bulkhead spaces. We have all three shuttles and transporter and air lock logs show nothing. There is also the fact the Colonel does not know how to use the transporter, Ma’am.”

“I saw him this morning,” B’Elanna volunteered. “We worked out together on Holodeck 2 until just before 10:00. He said he had an appointment with Naomi on a holodeck.”

“The Colonel has traded a number of rations for extended usage of Holodeck 1. Don’t know how he manages such a huge surplus,” Chakotay confirmed checking his log. “But they haven’t all been used. The Holodeck was shut down by 14:00.”

“It blew two relays on Holodeck Two,” B’Elanna recalled. “They were fixed. But they didn’t affect Holodeck One.”

“Tom, reverse our course, get us back to where we were when we hit the energy pulse,” she demanded making her decision. “Harry and Seven, try and trace where it went. It’s our only lead. B’Elanna, go over Holodeck 1 with a fine toothed comb. I want to be absolutely certain it is as it was when we hit the pulse. Carver, do another sweep of the ship. Make sure we’ve not missed anything.”

She turned to Samantha Wildman. “We will get Naomi back. I promise. We won’t stop until we do,” she promised quietly as the others departed about their assigned tasks. “You can stay with me on the Bridge, then you’ll know everything that is happening?”

Samantha Wildman gave a brave smile. “I’ll help Lieutenant Paris,” she declared. “I’ve got to feel as though I’m doing something.”

The Captain nodded. “I’ll keep you informed of any news. Neelix stay with her.”

Neelix nodded and gently took Samantha’s arm. “Naomi will be all right,” he assured her as they walked out. “The Colonel will look after her. He would never leave her alone.”

“In fact he gets quite annoyed when I leave her in the Mess,” he added reflectively.

“Yes, but who looks after the Colonel?” Samantha asked. “We’ve got Seven!”

A now ravenous Colonel and Naomi Wildman descended upon the Mess like the avenging angels, to find nobody there.

“This isn’t right,” the Colonel muttered his earlier concerns flaring again.

“Naomi, see what’s in the fridge,” he ordered quietly. “I’ll try and raise Mr Neelix. He really ought to be here, somewhere, along with at least a dozen others.”

“There’s nothing in the cooler,” Naomi reported two minutes later. “Or the freezer.”

“Very odd,” the Colonel admitted. “I can’t raise Mr Neelix or the Captain either. See what you can get out of the replicator. We need something to eat before we go looking.”

Naomi turned to the replicator and produced two mugs of soup. She took them to the Colonel who had sat himself at a table and was gazing thoughtfully out of the portal.

“No. Nor do I. Not even a stray star,” the Colonel agreed. “There were quite a few this morning. I think we will take our mugs upstairs to the Bridge.”

The Bridge, as the Colonel was starting to suspect, also proved to be devoid of life.

“I think we have a problem,” he declared sinking into a chair. “I think everybody’s run off. You are now the proud owner and crew of a space ship, congratulations.”

“There has to be somebody left!” Naomi giggled nervously. “Mommy and the Captain wouldn’t leave us here on our own!”

He held out a comforting arm for the young girl as he saw her face drain of colour at the suggestion. She took it and he pulled her onto his lap, wrapping his arms around her in a comforting fashion as he did so.

“I think we will have to see about rescuing them,” he said quietly, when he felt her relax. “You know more about how this ship works than I do. Do you think you can put us on a reverse course?”

“I can get into the navigation logs,” Naomi agreed with a sniff and getting up to investigate tactical. “But I don’t know how to fly the ship.”

“Nor do I,” the Colonel admitted. “So we’ll do it together. I think it’s much like a shuttle, just there are few more knobs. So if we leave the ones we can’t work out, we should have enough and not blow us up. Then assuming the engines don’t break without Lieutenant Paris offering it blankets and tea, we should be in a postion to work out what to do next in a few hours.”

“I think we need course 239Zee132,” she claimed after a few minutes work at the console. “There are no course corrections in the logs and it is the opposite to the one we are on.”

“Coming to course 239Zed132, Captain,” the Colonel parroted calmly, prodding experimentally at the controls.

“Sorry, Ma’am,” the Colonel apologised quickly. “But a ship this size has to have a captain. I’m not allowed, so you’re it.”

He rose and approached the still giggling Naomi. Pulling the insignia from his epaulettes he fastened them quickly to the strap of Naomi’s dungarees before she could protest, then stepped back and saluted her smartly. “Rifleman Samuels, J680502, reporting for duty, Ma’am.”

Naomi blushed as her giggles descended into gurgles of laughter. “You shouldn’t tease me!” She laughed. “I’m only the Captains Helper.”

“Well we’re going to the Captains help,” the Colonel observed. “Let’s see if we can break into some more logs and see what actually happened?”

“I am executing an enhanced Photonic particle beam,” Seven announced to the small gathering that had formed in Astrometrics. “Detecting the energy pulse has been problematic.”

In the four hours since the meeting in the conference room the only positives had all been negatives. Ensign Carver had all but dismantled the ship in a renewed physical search of the ship, all too aware of how well the Colonel could hide himself if he wanted. B’Elanna Paris had examined and tested the Holodecks running level 9 diagnostics on the systems and programmes. The only fault that had shown was an error in a minor subroutine for a bush in Naomi’s test programme. Even the attempts to find the energy pulse had so far proven negative. It had forced Kim and Seven of Nine into devising and refining a new configuration for the ships detection systems to allow it to pick up one insignificant pulse at the ranges the Captain was demanding. The Photonic Beam was Seven of Nines latest and last idea.

“I have modified the deflector dish to emit a constant stream of photonic particles in an quartering pattern in front of the ship,” Seven explained. “It will illuminate any photonic displacement it strikes.”

“If it strikes the photonic pulse,” Seven responded neutrally. “However I have not been able to ascertain the precise direction of the pulse after it passed through Voyager. I have had to make some assumptions. Nor do I know the precise velocity.”

“It will take some time to locate,” she added in the absence of immediate results. “I will also require time to establish the nature of the pulse.”

“Then let us know the results,” the Captain agreed, taking the hint and ushering the others out of the room.

Samantha Wildman delayed her departure. “Seven. I’ve got to know,” she said quickly. “Did you intend to break the Colonel when you told him? I want to know Naomi is safe with him?”

Seven regarded her with a raised eyebrow. “The Colonel’s response was outside those calculated,” she admitted. “It will not affect his ability to protect crewman Naomi Wildman.” With that dismissal she turned her attention to her consoles again.

It was not sufficient for Samantha Wildman. “My daughter is missing. Possibly dead and she is in the company of the one man on the ship that knows nothing about it and could deliberately kill her!” She screamed. “I know it doesn’t worry you. But it scares the life out of me!”

“Since my release from the Collective I have found myself caring for a number of people,” she said coldly. “They include your daughter, Crewman Naomi Wildman. Two of the others I have lost. The third, the Colonel, I thought I had lost through my own inaction. Without exception each placed a successively higher strain upon my emotions. The Colonel has taught me that the time for grief for the loss is only after all possible remedies to the situation have failed. The more effort that is placed into achieving their rescue, the better the probability of a successful rescue.”

“The Colonel is my collective,” she continued more quietly, her eyes turning down to examine her hands. “I do not wish to be an individual again, his presence is therefore essential for my contentment. Until it is confirmed that he is safe aboard this ship. I will continue to work for his successful recovery. Crewman Naomi Wildman is safe by virtue of his presence.”

The Captain grabbed Samantha Wildman by the arm and ushered her quickly out the room.

“That was unnecessary,” she admonished the Ensign. “You know the Colonel thinks the world of Naomi. And Seven isn’t far behind.”

“It’s my daughter that’s missing,” Sam pleaded. “I don’t think Seven is worried about either, after the way she treated him. It’s an exercise in logical thinking.”

“Seven’s hurting,” the Captain assured her. “From the moment I woke her up and he wasn’t there. It’s enough to start making her a Borg again! She will break if we lose him.”

“As for the Colonel. I think he needs to be broken every now and then, it’s his relief valve. Seven is the only person that knows him well enough to be allowed to do it.”

The logs Naomi was pulling up from out of the ships computer puzzled the Colonel. Not for what they were telling him, he was relying upon Naomi’s better grasp of all things scientific for that. But for the time scales. Naomi had significantly failed to provide anything before 14:00, when they had left the holodeck. That was now well over twelve hours ago.

“Cap’ns been too long on watch,” he declared. “Respectfully submit the recommendation that she gains some rest, Ma’am?”

“Perhaps I am,” she agreed to the Colonels questioning stare. “But I don’t want to be on my own.”

“You won’t be,” the Colonel promised offering a hand to her. “I’ll tuck you in on the couch in the Ready Room and jam the door open.”

“I can’t. I lost it on the Borg Unimatrix,” the Colonel admitted. “Will a lullaby do?”

Happy she was asleep he returned to the bridge, jamming the door as he had promised and glared at the computer displays. Challenging them to tell him why Voyager had no history before 14:00, when they had left the holodeck.

There were a lot of smaller items that were worrying him as well. Like why there were no finger marks on the pilots console, the pilots chair was stiff as well and above all why his wrist watch was telling him it was 05:30, whilst the computer was saying it was 02:30.

The Colonel’s musings were interrupted by a scream from the Ready Room. Without a seconds thought he bounded through the door to find Naomi curled on the couch shivering.

“It’s alright, Duck. I’m here!” The Colonel soothed, taking her in his arms. “It was just a dream.”

“It isn’t!” Naomi protested. “The desk is closer than it was! I couldn’t reach it from the couch before!”

The announcement made the Colonel consider the surroundings more carefully. Things did look closer now.

“Listen to me,” he said softly. “I don’t know where we are, or what is going on. But we are safe. I need help to keep it that way. We’ve got to know why there are no logs from before we left the holodeck. Can you find that out?”

A small indicator showed on the panel beside Seven of Nine’s left hand as it was automatically reprogramming the photonic beam for yet another refined search pattern. Just as automatically it stopped, then undid the complicated programming in order to focus the beam on the small target the indicator suggested was there.

Seven of Nine allowed herself an audible sigh of relief. For over four hours Voyager had religiously followed the course and corrections she had demanded without success. Even she had begun to worry that her deduced course had been wrong. It had led her to repeatedly re-examine the course of the pulse whilst it had been recorded by the ships sensors, each time she had come to the same conclusion and had insisted that the ship remain on its current course.

Now she had a target she bombarded it with everything in the Astrometric arsenal of detection arrays, in the urgent need to determine if it was the right target. Most returned nothing helpful, but one, the one she had configured to detect the approach of Borg threats, did return a weak signal. It was with desperate fingers she decoded the signal. Again much was lost in the sea of sub-space static, but there was a pattern there, enough for her to recognise. It was hers, it could only be the Colonel’s transponder.

There was victory and relief in her voice when she reported her findings to the Captain.

The Captain stood and straightened her jacket, before turning to Samantha Wildman.

She was sprawled across the couch in the Ready Room, where the Captain had brought her after leaving Astrometics. From there Sam had released her feelings in a torrent, blaming everybody and everything for her daughters disappearance; the ship for being in the Delta Quadrant; the Captain for stranding them there; the Colonel for disappearing with her daughter; even Neelix for allowing them to be together.

For several minutes the Captain had let her vent, perplexed at what to do. Then firmly took a leaf from the Colonel’s book of man management and had hugged the ensign firmly to her until the torrent of abuse had subsided into sobs, then ultimately into exhausted sleep.

It was only afterwards that she realised it was what she wanted to do herself, tradition and her values had prevented her. They had also prevented her following Samantha’s lead.

“Sam,” she called gently, bending over the slumbering ensign and shaking her gently. “Sam, Seven’s found them!”

“Huh! What?” Samantha Wildman muttered as she regained consciousness again. Then started when she realised where she was. “S Sorry Captain!”

“Never mind. Seven’s found the Colonel. We’ll go down to Astrometrics and get the full story,” the Captain grinned encouragingly at her.

Seven of Nine had been busy, the Captain guessed when she and Sam tumbled from the lift. She also guessed that things were not going to be as simple as she would have liked. Seven was clenching her fists and grinding her teeth, never a good sign.

Seven of Nine started with the good news. “I have identified a Sub-space signal that can only originate from the Colonel’s implant. The pulse has altered course and is on a collision course with Voyager. The presence of the signal suggests a high probability of the presence of Crewman Naomi Wildman.”

“So why did they disappear and how do we get them back again?” The Captain demanded quickly.

“I am uncertain,” Seven admitted uncomfortably. “I have extensively examined the sensor logs of the pulse. I believe it passed through the ship. In particular it centred on Holodeck One and circuitry unique to the Holodeck. I believe they may be trapped on a holographic simulation. I have asked Corporal Miller to examine the particular circuitry and its status at 14:00.”

“The pulse is losing momentum and energy. It is being consumed. The sensor readings have suggested a 20% loss of energy since it was detected.”

“Which means?” Samantha asked in a weak voice, feeling her hopes descend again.

The Captains hand snapped to her communicator. “Captain to Bridge. Maximum warp on present heading. Listen up for corrections from Seven of Nine.”

“It will be insufficient,” Seven advised coldly. “The Colonel and Naomi Wildman must reduce power consumption themselves.”

“Can you contact them?” The Captain demanded feeling Samantha sag against her.

“Not at this range,” Seven confirmed. “The implants signature is too garbled to permit communication. By the time we are in range it will be too late.”

“Keep trying to find a way to contact them. I’ll get B’Elanna to go over the Holodeck with Miller again,” the Captain decided.

“I can’t find anything before we left the holodeck,” Naomi complained after nearly an hours work at the console. “It’s as though the ship was only turned on at lunch time! It’s like the holodeck version of Voyager, everything is new.”

“Yes. I used to play on it,” Naomi assured him. “When I wanted to pretend to be the Captain.”

“Naomi Wildman Gamma 01,” Naomi said hopefully, giving the computer her own clearance.

“Lieutenant-Colonel Samuels, J680502. Computer, freeze the damn programme,” the Colonel offered.

“Computer, I don’t suppose a large axe in the vitals is sufficient either?” the Colonel offered.

“Clearance code required from one of the following: Admiral Paris, Captain Janeway, Yard chief Brunig.”

Naomi shrugged. “I think Admiral Paris is Lieutenant Paris’s father,” Naomi whispered.

“So we can’t ask him for help,” the Colonel opined. “Now we know where we are, why is the ship shrinking?”

“Well perhaps they’ll suddenly remember we are here and come and open the doors for us,” he suggested. “There is certainly no point in playing at rushing around.” He hit the controls for warp on the pilots console, bringing the ship to a halt, then sank into Chakotay’s seat fingering his comms badge.

Seven of Nine noted with some satisfaction the sudden reduction in power loss from the energy pulse and its sudden deceleration. Quickly recalculated intercept times she turned for the door and the Captain’s latest briefing.

“We think we have a theory,” B’Elanna reported on the results of Millers investigations. “We think the pulse may have ‘hijacked’ a programme from the Holodeck memory buffers.”

“Why wasn’t it picked up?” The Captain demanded sharply, furious it should have been missed after repeated examinations.

“I don’t think it’s been run for years, even the command over-rides are out of date. It was accessed, but not by the holodeck and it was not run,” B’Elanna argued.

“That is a desirable condition,” Seven came quickly to B’Elanna’s defence. “Termination of the programme at the incorrect point will result in the termination of the Colonel and Crewman Wildman.”

“Okay,” the Captain agreed calming down enough to accept the argument. “Have you found a way of catching it before it disappears?”

“The energy loss has been reduced,” Seven announced. “But the pulse is now stationary. Voyager will intercept in 60 minutes. We will have approximately 3.5 minutes to remove Crewman Wildman and the Colonel before it ceases to exist.”

“If they were taken from the Holodeck, could we let it into the Holodeck again?” Tom Paris asked. “Perhaps we could energise it again?”

“Navigation and piloting would have to be precise. Within 1 Metre to contain the energy field,” Seven observed. “It would be possible to modify Astrometrics sensors to provide the level of accuracy required.” She looked at Tom questioningly.

Captain Janeway with Ensign Sam Wildman and the Doctor waited impatiently at the door to Holodeck 1. Waited for the message from the Bridge or Seven of Nine in Astrometrics that it was now safe to enter. It had seemed like a long wait, for fifteen minutes Seven had had Tom juggling the controls at the Con, making finer and finer adjustments to Voyagers position to position the now dangerously weak energy pulse.

Collectively they charged in to find the Colonel hunched in Chakotay’s seat, cradling Naomi in his arms.

“Ssh!” He whispered fiercely at them. “The Captains asleep. She’s had a hard day!”

“Bugger off, there’s a good chap. There is nothing amiss with her that waking in her own bed won’t cure,” the Colonel insisted, slowly standing, still holding Naomi in his arms.

“Soon will be, Duck,” the Colonel whispered encouragingly. “Just go to sleep.”

She nodded dumbly and the entourage followed him as he led the way to Naomi’s quarters, where he laid her gently in her bunk and slid the duvet over her, before chivying all and sundry from the room, leaving Samantha with her daughter.

“Permission to come aboard, Ma’am?” He snapped to attention as the door closed behind him.

The Captain, who had been expecting the request since the Holodeck doors opened, nodded an approval and he sagged back against the door frame.

“Would somebody care to tell me what the hell has been going on?” He asked. “And why we were locked into a Holodeck training programme?”

“It wasn’t intentional,” Captain Janeway placated. “There was a fault.”

“You were adaptable,” Seven of Nine interrupted, hurrying down the corridor and hurling herself at her husband.

“However there were faults in your appraisal of the situation. We shall explore them,” she added burrying her head in his shoulder as he took her weight in his arms.

“I’ll let Seven explain, shall I?” The Captain offered, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. She backed away before turning and hurrying away.

“I’m sure that lump has grown,” the Colonel observed in a whisper. “I’m sure you used to get a lot closer. Shall we go for some tea so we can find out?”

Seven squeezed harder in response. She had not told the Ensign the entire truth earlier she realised. Her husband was more than her collective.

“Come in!” She called aprehensively, putting down the PADD, glad of the interuption but worried who it might be. She did not want to see Chakotay or Seven and the Colonel at the moment.

The Colonel as always had filed his ‘dispatches’ just as soon as he had settled. She did not doubt the facts of the report, they would have happened as he had described. But he never included everything either, especially if it included him. It tended to leave a lot for her to imagine from between the lines.

The Captains face broke into a smile as a nervous Naomi Wildman entered. “I think congratulations are in order?” she offered indicating the PADD she had just abandoned.

Leaving her desk and stooping towards the girl, she asked with humility. “What is it like to be a Captain of a Starship?”

Naomi grinned broadly. “It was ever so easy,” she enthused. “The Colonel looked after me, like Commander Chakotay does for you.” Then hesitated. “I mean like the Colonel does for Seven.”

“It’s the sign of a good second officer,” the Captain confided easily. “One that looks after his Captain. But it’s an even better Captain that learns to let him. Now what can I do for you?”

“Please, Ma’am,” Naomi became serious again. “The Colonel lost his flute on the Unimatrix and I know how much he liked to play, but he can’t anymore. I wanted to replace it?”

“Oh?” The Captain queried, wishing she had thought of the idea. “It sounds like an excellent idea. What’s the problem?”

“The computer said it would require 500 replicator rations. Mommy and I have only got 50,” Naomi hesitated. “I was wondering if I could borrow some?”

“Only until the end of the month,” she added quickly. “I’ll do chores and everything for Neelix to pay them back?”

The Captain laughed and motioned towards her replicator. “I think it is about the only thing he will accept from us,” she declared.

“Computer replicate one silver tenor flute for Naomi Wildman. Rations overide Janeway Alpha Zero-One.”

The replicator shimmered and a flute appeared. Naomi grabbed it eagerly and turned for the door.

Before exiting she turned back again with a serious face. “Thank you, Captain. I’ll give it to him at breakfast,” she said formally. Then added, “It’s not true what they say about the Commander and Ensign Abbott.”

The Captain tried to make herself inconspicuous at breakfast. There was no way she was going to miss the events to come. Inconspicuous was an impossible task. The Captain rarely appeared in a the Mess for breakfast and eyes followed her around. Instead she went for the obvious and took a chair with Seven and the Colonel.

“I thought you didn’t like sweet things?” She teased Seven of Nine lightly, eyeing her plate and the three pancakes with syrup.

“I find the desire for sweet objects, frivolous. They interfere with efficiency,” Seven of Nine reported calmly. “The choice of Banana Pancakes with syrup reduces the desire and provides some nutritional benefit.”

“He has been made aware of certain errors in his assumptions,” Seven agreed.

Further conversation was interrupted by the approach of Naomi and Samantha Wildman, their hands behind their backs.

“I’ve come to return this to you,” Naomi announced pushing an epaulette into the the Colonel’s hand, “and to give you this. As a thank you?” She held a long package towards him.

“But it must have cost a months rations!” He protested unwrapping the parcel to reveal the flute. “Nothing is worth that!”

“And you are worth more than nothing,” the Captain retorted, fearing he was going to reject the gift. “Besides Deck Three is boring now you don’t seranade Seven at night with it.”

The Colonel grinned sheepishly and bowed low before Naomi. “I accept the gift, Ma’am,” he declared graciously. “And with the Captain’s and your mother’s permission I’ve a little gift for you.” He looked hopefully up at Samantha Wildman and the Captain.

From his pocket he pulled out a fabric patch woven in gold and silver. “I think this will look good on your bib,” he said gently, pressing it firmly to her chest. “It is the regimental honour and you deserve it for looking after a lost soldier.”

Again he fished in a pocket. “I didn’t get the chance to finish my present,” he explained to Seven, pulling out a crumpled paper bag. “But as you think them inefficeint, perhaps I can interest others in one of these?”

“They are?” Seven demanded, as Naomi’s hand eagerly dived into the bag and withdrew a cream block.

“Just some fudge. Boiled sugar and condensed milk, flavoured with just a hint of vanilla. I should think about 10,000 calories per piece. Very pleasant, but frivolous. Obviously no good for your svelt like figure. Captain, Ensign?” He explained offering the bag towards the Captain and Sam Wildman, carefully keeping it out of Seven’s reach, forcing her to watch it eagle eyed and drooling as they each dipped a hand in the bag to withdraw their own pieces of confection.

He peered in the bag, screwed it up and pushed it deep into his jacket pocket again. “All gone,” he sighed.

It was too much for Seven. She launched herself at him, her hand seeking the pocket in which he had deposited the bag. She withdrew the bag and found, as he had declared, it was empty.

“Looking for this?” he asked with a grin, holding out a second bag withdrawn from the other pocket, a good deal fuller than the first.

She grabbed it from his hand and placed a fudge piece in her mouth. The Captain had never seen Seven melt so quickly as she relaxed in the Colonel’s arms, not withstanding the way the sweet disolved in the mouth anyhow.

Captain Janeway, realising that the Colonel’s gentle teasing and slieght of hand, was his revenge for Seven’s more hamfisted notice of her pregnancy and was now complete, laughed. “I think you are still trailing Seven.”

“Good Heavens! I don’t want to win!” The Colonel exclaimed. “Simply not get left behind!”

“Seven, Colonel,” Samantha Wildman said quietly. “I said some things the other day to Seven. I regret them. Please forgive me? I should have known I was wrong.”

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