Author's note: It's been a while, but I'm not dead. Really! I don't want to go on the cart! Anyway, I finally did manage to see to this chapter and return to the story of the Latarrans, the Karnaii, the IKS Vor'moch, and the USS Voyager...

Sparks flew from the damaged cloaking device. Megan Crowley pulled back, scowling at the recalcitrant ion manifold. The trip through the wormhole had damaged it in some way that she hadn't been able to figure out. She'd told Koth it would be eight or nine hours, but no matter what she did, the manifold wouldn't realign the way she wanted it to.

"Bloody hell," she said acidly, the only thing that came to mind.

"Maybe it's the prismatics," someone behind her said.

"We don't have time to replicate a new one," she said. "Well, we ought to replace it anyway. Korvath, Henson, go start replicating parts. As for this...," she leaned over it warily with a tool. Carefully, Crowley took the cloaking device offline and reached gingerly inside to pull out the defiant manifold.

What was wrong with the bloody thing? It would work, then cut out, then work again. There didn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to it. In the Alpha Quadrant, Klingon ships carried a few extra ion manifolds and picked up more when they resupplied. That hadn't been an option out here. They were complicated to replicate, so they hadn't done it very often. Their last one had been replaced when they'd first met Voyager. In between now and then, she hadn't replicated a replacement.

If she could figure it out, then this would be a milk run. Vor'moch could give the Karnaii their warheads, go back, and have this over with once and for all. Without the cloaking device, it was going to be a lot harder.

She bent over the device and carefully adjusted the prismatic regulator. That did the trick, at least for the time being. She didn't trust it, though. The only way to keep it adjusted would be to have someone keep their hand in the bloody thing, and the radiation would burn their hand off eventually. Not a good option.

Was there a trick she hadn't thought of? Nothing came to mind. She'd always been able to come up with an idea to keep things running. Not now, though. There was only one thing to do, and that was replace it. But that meant that for the next three days, the cloak wouldn't be trustworthy. All because of one bloody stupid ion manifold.

All the same, shields and weapons were fine, the warp core was perking along fine, and and there wasn't a Latarran ship in the fleet that could beat Vor'moch. She wondered for a moment what Voyager was doing. Were they repaired? It was possible, with the time that had passed. That could be more troublesome; the Intrepid-class starship could well be a match for Vor'moch. But that was really Koth and Kinsey's worry.

Displeased and tense, Megan Crowley ordered her staff to check the cloaking device every five minutes and adjust it if it needed it, and to go up to sickbay and get checked out for radiation absorption afterwards. She would need to brief the rest of the senior crew on the situation, and she wasn't looking forward to that.

The ride up the turbolift was too short for her liking. She gathered her courage, pulled her hair back, and strode onto the bridge. It seemed less tense than she might have thought; the bridge crew was focusing on their work. Koth, Kinsey, Karg, and Barkovitch glanced over at her curiously.

"nuqneH?" Koth asked.

Crowley drew herself to attention.

"One of the ion manifolds on the cloaking device has carked it, devwI," she said.

Kinsey raised an eyebrow from where he sat on Koth's other side. "Is that a technical term?"

Crowley shook her head. "It works, then it stops, then it works again. We used the last spare when we fought the Latarrans at Spanos. What with all the fun we had, we didn't get around to replicating another one. We can, but not immediately."

"How long?" rumbled Koth.

"Seventy-two hours is the usual," Crowley said. "I could cut it to forty-eight if we bypass a few tests. If we can adjust our course, maybe we could make the time."

Koth shook his head. "We don't have that kind of time," he said. "Get by with this one in the meantime."

Crowley trembled. "Sir, when the manifold stops working, so does the cloak. We'll be visible. Vulnerable."

Koth glanced over at Barkovitch. "Shields and weapons status?"

Crowley knew those perfectly well herself, but didn't argue. Barkovitch smiled coolly. "Shields at one hundred percent. Disruptors charged and ready. Phaser also charged and ready."

Koth shrugged. "If we must fight without the cloak, we will. Sayba and Karg are already keeping us out of range of the Latarran fleets. They seem to have other plans, anyway."

"I could try and cheat a little, replicate something which would just hold for now, maybe," she offered.

Koth shook his head. "No."

In her years of service on Vor'moch, she had learned to read her captain. Koth was a reserved, thoughtful leader. She could tell from his tone of voice when she might be able to convince him to her point of view and when he had made his decision, and now seemed one of those times. She wasn't particularly wild about the idea of tearing across the local terrain without the cloaking device, but she didn't think he was going to budge. So she held her tongue and tried instead to rack her brain for shortcuts she could take to get the ion manifold online.

And perhaps he could read her too, because he glanced down and punched something on his console with thick fingers. The viewscreen jumped from a view of space in front of them to a Karnaii colony planet. A large fleet orbited around it, like metal fingers preparing to crush it. They were Latarran ships, not Karnaii, and from their orbit pattern and from the powered-up weapons arrays that were already aiming planetside, they were there to do something nasty.

"See what you can do," Koth rumbled. "If the cloak is not reliable, we won't use it unless we have to. One way or another, we will get through."

"Incoming message from the Karnaii," Barkovitch said suddenly. "From Salim Ru."

"On screen," grunted Koth. The screen dissolved and reformed into the face of Admiral Rhoden. The military governor seemed unreasonably pleased to see them.

"Ah. Welcome back, friends. I am delighted to see you again," the admiral said.

"Greetings," Koth said bluntly. "We have your baryon warheads. Send a ship and come get them."

Rhoden stiffened. "Unfortunately, I...cannot. Our fleet is otherwise occupied. Can you...possibly...deliver them to Salim Ru?"

Koth paused and lowered his head for a moment. Then he raised his head and eyed the Karnaii ruler coolly.

"All the way to Salim Ru," he mused. "Why there?"

"Our fleet is clustered around Salim Ru and our starport," said Rhoden. "Salim Ru is closer to you."

Koth and Kinsey shared a look. "Very well," Koth said heavily. "However, I expect that there will be a fleet at the wormhole to help us stabilize it, as before."

The Karnaii admiral scratched his chin nervously. "Our fleet is...overtaxed," he said. "And your ship is much faster than ours. I do not know if I can have ships there in time."

Koth leaned forward. "We came back for you. Either you dispatch those ships now, so they will be there when we arrive, or I will turn over the warheads to the Latarrans."

If Crowley could read the body language of the Karnaii correctly, that got to the furry little bloke. "You dare not!" he squeaked.

"Try me," Koth growled, leaning forward in his chair.

The admiral tapped away at the computer on his desk. "I am dispatching the ships as we speak. I will also send Srask to assist. He should be finishing up an assignment shortly."

"Very well," Koth said, and leaned back in his chair. He seemed tired and tense. "We shall rendezvous with you at Salim Ru. But this is it, Rhoden. We have fulfilled our bargain."

Rhoden made a clawed fist. "Agreed, Captain Koth, and know you always have a friend in the Karnaii."

The connection dropped, and Koth cleared his throat. "Sayba, lay in a course for Salim Ru that keeps us away from the Latarran fleets."

A few moments later, the computer beeped. "Laid in, devwI."

"Full ahead, warp eight." Koth turned to Crowley again. "Do what you can with the cloaking device," he said. "That is all we can do."

Srask scowled at his console and groomed himself again, running his clawed hands through his whiskers. The program worked well enough. He'd done what they'd asked of him. It hadn't taken very long to route the transporter controls of all ten cargo freighters to the computer in his office. Then it was a matter of running the program he had designed. First it scanned the area of the camps for life forms, then cross-referenced with the Karnaii communications network. If it found a communicator in the same area, it assumed the life form was Karnaii and discarded it. If it didn't, it would obtain a transporter lock. Once it had two hundred, it would beam them up into the outer atmosphere of Salim Ru in an area over the ocean, far away from land. It would be the equivalent of tossing the prisoners out of a shuttle, except there was no shuttle. The bodies would be unrecoverable; eaten by fish, he supposed. Then it went to sleep for ten minutes to let the coils cool. Then it would restart the process again. Each ship would work independently. No one had to do anything. All he had to do was push one button to start the process, and when it was done, he could push another button and erase all the logs. No one would ever know.

But he would.

He caught himself raising his hands to his snout again and forced himself to stop. Instead, he reached for a chew stick and nibbled at it nervously. He did not like this plan one bit, but he had done what he'd been asked to do. The chew stick surrendered to his teeth in record time when his communicator beeped.

"Rhoden to Srask."

"Go ahead," Srask said, swallowing hard. What would the admiral want now? To figure out a way to set the prisoners on fire?

"Report to my office," Rhoden said.

It didn't take long for Srask to get there. Being an engineer had its benefits, and being a high-ranking engineer had even more benefits. He'd gotten a few broken transporters, disassembled them, and made one working transporter from the parts. Having his own transporter was practically a necessity with his responsibilities, and it was awfully convenient.

He couldn't materialize inside Rhoden's office; he'd built the transporter shield himself. Rhoden would be first on the list of Latarran assassins. But he could and did beam into the outer office, where the guards let him pass and the aide immediately sent him to the military governor's inner sanctum.

Rhoden seemed pleased and preoccupied at the same time. He cleared his throat and rose when Srask came in, gesturing the engineer to a chair. Srask noticed that the wall screen had a schematic of Salim Ru's spacedock on it.

"Ah, Srask. Welcome," said Rhoden. "Did you finish it?"

Srask's whiskers twitched at the reminder. "Yes," he said shortly. "It's up, it's automated, and one button is all it takes."

"Excellent. Key it to my access code."

Personally, that was the last thing Srask would have wanted to do. If it had been in his hands, he would have used it as a threat against the Latarrans to keep them in line. He had no love for them, but they would understand the idea that if they killed Karnaii civilians their own were forfeit, too. He could see himself pushing the button in reprisal, but not first. The Karnaii were an emotional people, and although Rhoden was a crafty and capable leader, he was quite capable of pushing the button first if he thought it necessary.

"I also have a problem for you to solve that you will like," Rhoden said.

"Oh?" Srask replied.

"Vor'moch is returning," Rhoden said simply.

Srask blinked his oilspot eyes at the governor in shock. Back? The whole idea had been a trade for the use of the Karnaii wormhole! Why had they come back? None of it made sense.

"They are?" he said simply.

"Yes," Rhoden said. "I hailed them through the wormhole. They are delivering more baryon warheads. They are our allies, and I must help them, too. They will be at Salim Ru in eight hours."

Srask was thunderstruck. "Here? While Voyager is here?"

"I know," Rhoden said, in a stressed, irritable voice. He rubbed at one eye like a tired child. "I want them to give us the warheads, but I cannot ask them to risk any more than necessary. I want you to do two things."

"What?" Srask asked instantly.

"First, I want you to lock the Spacedock doors. I need them sealed shut. I don't care what you do; Voyager can't do anything if they can't leave the Spacedock. Do whatever you can to block their sensors. Vor'moch has their cloaking device; they should be all right. We'll deliver the warheads to a ship in orbit, rather than the spacedock. I want you to do that now. Right now. As soon as you are done, take the same fleet of five ships you had before and head for the wormhole. Don't tell anyone. Stay cloaked until you get there. I want you there as soon as possible, to get them through."

Srask nodded, pleased at the idea of seeing his friends on the Vor'moch again. He would also lock the docking clamps holding Voyager in the Spacedock. Blocking their sensors was harder; both Voyager and Vor'moch had advanced technologies he did not entirely understand. But if the docking clamps were kept on and the doors shut, Voyager could sense whatever it wanted if it couldn't go anywhere.

Could Voyager fight its way out of the spacedock? It was possible, he allowed, but unlikely, what with their insistence on negotiations. And of course, if they tried, then Rhoden would threaten to kill the colonists. That ought to be enough to keep them sitting still long enough for Vor'moch to get safely home. Assuming that Rhoden simply threatened instead of just doing it.

"I'll get it done," Srask said instantly.

"Good. I'm sending orders to your ships to prepare for your departure. Key the cargo transporters to my command, lock the spacedock doors, block Voyager's sensors, and get going."

"Yes, sir," Srask said, and stood. A moment later, he was back in his office in the spaceport.

Transferring control of the cargo transporters relieved him more than he thought it would. It was out of his hands. Then he changed the code for the spacedock doors, ensuring that only he and the docking officers had the proper codes. He also adjusted the doors so that they would open enough to emit smaller Karnaii spacecraft, but not a monster the size of Voyager. The docking clamps currently holding Voyager to the spacedock got the same treatment. He wasn't sure how to block the sensors of a ship so far advance, so he did the best he could. Hours after he left, a thoron particle leak would start in a secondary reactor. Then two of the smaller Karnaii ships docked close to the mighty starship would begin emitting subspace interference. It would play merry hell with the Karnaii's own sensors, but it couldn't be avoided. It ought to do.

Before he knew it, he was on his own ship and departing for the wormhole. He'd never thought of the command chair as a restful place, but it was by comparison. The cloak was fine, no one could see them, and he had time to review the first time they'd stabilized the wormhole for their friends. Monitoring Latarran frequencies told him that the Latarrans had surrounded several Karnaii planets, but so far all they were doing was orbiting them. Nothing as of yet. He figured it would stay that way, especially if they knew that their own citizens would die very quickly in retaliation.

Retaliation. That was the key. Or at the least, the Karnaii had to play for time, until the warheads were in their hands. Preferably on a cloaked ship bound for Latarra Prime. Moving first would light the fuse, before they were ready. He wanted no part of that, and part of him would always regret having set up the system for Rhoden. But he'd had orders, and he'd obeyed them. Now his job was to help his friends. That, Srask thought, was all he could do.

At last, they would be striking back.

General Trame had commanded the Latarran military forces on Spanos for the past few years. It had been a pleasant, easy position, if a bit of a backwater. On Salim Ru, the Karnaii had been a constant menace. They had rarely bothered with Spanos, other than occasionally harassing shipping.

Things had changed.

Spanos would be years in recovering from the wound that Vor'moch and their Karnaii allies had inflicted. He could never forgive or forget the crime they had committed. He did not have the power to punish the Klingon ship, but he could punish the Karnaii.

He commanded a fleet now. His fleet's orders were to orbit a Karnaii colony planet and await authorization. Once he received authorization from the Latarran High Command, he would give the order and his fleet would incinerate this planet.

He knew that only Karnaii elderly and children lived on this planet. Janeway's condition to spare them had already made its way throughout the Latarran fleet. Didn't she understand? The elderly on this planet had likely been terrorists in years past, and the children would grow up to commit the same crimes as their parents if they had the chance.

This was his duty. That was all there was to it. They were at war, and war was not pretty. There was always the possibility that his orders would change and order the occupation of the planet, instead of its destruction. He was willing to do either one. It was necessary.

The planet below didn't have much in the way of sensors, and utterly no defense. All of the Karnaii's fleet was occupying Salim Ru. The Latarran fleet fanned out into the proper attack formation. There would be no attack on the main cities of this planet. Instead, they would launch antimatter bombs which would detonate in the atmosphere. They were far cruder than the weapon that the Karnaii had used against them, but they were quite effective. Spanos and Salim Ru had survived their radiation blast after a few days. The antimatter bombs would render this planet a barren rock. Nothing alive on it would be able to escape, and nothing new would live on it for the next ten thousand years.

His adjutant strode up to him and cleared his throat. Trame turned to look at him.

"Status?" he asked.

"Sir, all ships are in position and everything is in place. The antimatter bombs are armed and loaded. All ships have routed fire control to our weapons console. All you need to do is say, 'Fire'."

"Good," Trame said. Then he turned to the comm officer sitting at her large console. "Has there been any word from the High Command?"

"Nothing, sir," the young woman said solemnly.

"All right," Trame said. "Then we wait."

The mood on the bridge turned sullen. He knew why. They'd been orbiting this planet for a few hours, and the urge for revenge burned strong. His people did not want to wait. They were military, and they wanted to fight. They wanted to strike the Karnaii as the Karnaii had struck them. Perhaps when the Karnaii had felt the same losses they had inflicted on his people, they would think twice

He knew this emotions well because he shared them. The Karnaii could not be trusted or even lived with. They had no interest in peace, only victory. They wanted to utterly eradicate the Latarran people, and as such, the Latarran people had no choice but to utterly eradicate them. It was that simple.

But still, he was not of their type. He had the power to destroy every living thing on this planet at a single word, but he would not do so yet. He had carried out his orders; now they would wait until they had new ones. Then, and only then, would the Karnaii pay the price for their crimes. That was all he could do.

Janeway was tense.

She could feel everything around her spinning out of control. Things were getting ugly. She had seen the Latarran fleets surrounding the planets of the Karnaii. Stopping the Latarran ships from occupying those planets seemed impossible; humane occupation seemed like the only alternative.

The Karnaii were not being terribly friendly – in fact, they'd stopped speaking to Voyager altogether. A few hours ago, five Karnaii ships had suddenly departed the spacedock, jumped to warp, and cloaked. They had not made any kind of announcement as to why, and it made her nervous.

The Latarrans had sent a few encrypted messages to her, all asking about whether or not she was going to give them the sensor technology they had asked for. She in turn had asked what their plans were for the Karnaii planets they were currently orbiting. As of yet, they hadn't given her a definitive answer. She had the feeling they were waiting until their fleets were in position.

But if the war wasn't hot yet, it could be soon – within a few days, or maybe hours. There seemed to be so little she could do other than oversee the final repairs on her ship and hope that the Karnaii and the Latarrans were willing to discuss the matter of the colonists on Salim Ru.

At the ops console, Harry Kim suddenly frowned and tapped a quick command. Janeway turned to him.

"Mr. Kim. Report."

He scowled at the console. "Something's blocking our sensors," he said.

Janeway felt a wire of tension wrap and double-wrap around her middle. "What is it?" she rasped, trying not to snap at him. "Is it deliberate?"

He took a few moments before answering. "It doesn't look that way," he said finally. "One of the secondary reactors is emitting thoron particles...and some of the ships near us seem to be emitting subspace interference."

"Subspace interference? In Spacedock?"

Tuvok was also scanning it. "It appears they are running engine diagnostics."

"In Spacedock?" Janeway repeated. "That doesn't make any sense. They'll get harmonic disturbances from the other ships."

"True," Tuvok acknowledged, "but the Karnaii do not behave logically."

Tuvok did have a point, but she still wasn't fond of it. This just didn't feel right, although she didn't want to point that out to the Vulcan. "Open a channel to the dockmaster," she said.

A moment later, a gray and white Karnaii was looking at her from the screen. A low-ranking officer, like an ensign, if she read the rank on his uniform correctly.

"This is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager," she said. "You have a leak in one of your reactors. Also two of your ships are running engine diagnostics, and it's interfering with our sensors." She choked back for a moment and forced herself to smile and speak politely. "Could you please get those taken care of? We're trying to align our own sensor grid and it's giving us trouble." The sensor grid had been realigned last night, but the Karnaii didn't need to know that.

"I will speak with my commanding officer," the Karnaii replied.

"Can't you do it?"

The Karnaii sighed. "I cannot," it said mournfully. "I do not have that authority; I must speak with the engineering staff. I will ask the two ships to shut down their diagnostics for you. We Karnaii wish only to to be good hosts."

"Could you open the spacedock doors to help vent the particle leak?" Janeway asked.

The creature's whiskers twitched. "Alas, I do not have that authority either. But I will pass your request to my commanding officer."

Janeway exhaled sharply. "Could I speak with your commanding officer, perhaps?" she prodded.

"I am sorry," the Karnaii said, "he is unavailable. I can ask him to contact you as soon as he is free."

Janeway sighed and nodded. It seemed that the Karnaii seemed to have bureaucracy down pat. Or, she thought darkly, they were trying to stall her.

"Thank you," she said briskly, and cut the connection.

Once the dockmaster was off the screen, she tried hailing one of the ships directly. She didn't have a lot of faith in the dock officers. Another black-furred Karnaii stared at her, this one wearing captain's rank.

"Yes, Captain Janeway?" the creature demanded.

"Hello. Yes, captain," Janeway said, with a smile so tight and frozen she thought her face might break. "We were wondering if you could please shut down the engine diagnostics you seem to be running. You're interfering with our sensor grid."

She was treated to the odd sight of the other captain actually fluffing up its fur so that it stood on end, making the Karnaii look rather like a giant puffball. Up until now, she hadn't known they could do that.

"The diagnostic is under way. I cannot order my engineers to shut it down now. Our ship took grave damage...heavy damage in the brave and noble battle to liberate our beloved world. It must be repaired."

Janeway nodded and thought the Karnaii must have a dramatic requirement for their command school.

"I'd be happy to lend you some of my engineers, so that things go quicker."

The Karnaii captain's whiskers wiggled. "Thank you, but no. My ship must remain secure. I am sure you, as a captain and leader, understand that. In order to show good faith, I will instruct my engineers to cut the diagnostic as soon as they possibly can. I can also lend you some of mine, to repair your sensor grid."

Janeway smiled craftily. "Thank you, but my ship must also remain secure. I'm sure you understand."

If she read Karnaii body language right, that had irked the captain. "We will do what we can, captain."

The connection flicked off, back to a view of the interior of the spacedock. Janeway sighed.

"I don't like this," she said. "Something isn't right."

"Of course not," Tuvok said from the security station. "The Latarran fleets are in orbit of several Karnaii planets. The Karnaii are in control of Salim Ru, and hold several million Latarran colonists as prisoners. If either side makes a threatening move, the situation will swiftly deteriorate into all-out war."

That doesn't make me feel much better, Tuvok. "Do you think the Karnaii are trying to pull something, Mr. Tuvok?"

"Quite possibly. The Karnaii have stopped transmitting to us, but that is not surprising; they see us as an ally of the Latarrans. But I have also been monitoring Karnaii transmissions, and they, too, have dropped to a minimum. Also, ince those five ships left four hours ago, no other ships have entered or left the spacedock. The most strategic move would be to move all available vessels outside of the spacedock, so that they would be available for tactical command."

"Maybe they're planning to fight us," B'Elanna said dubiously.

"Possible, Lieutenant, but unlikely. Attempting to fight Voyager inside the spacedock would most likely result in the destruction of the entire facility. With our shields, we would be able to survive that. The Karnaii fleet would not. While they are an extremely emotional species, I believe they would know that fact."

"If I were you, I would tread very carefully, captain," Chakotay said. "There are hotheads on both sides. If they see anything they don't like they'll jump on it, and then the balloon goes up. We may not be able to stop them from fighting their war, but let's not give them a reason to start. I'd sit tight for a bit. It seems like the only thing we can do."

Janeway sat down in her chair for a moment to think. Chakotay's advice was sound, as was Tuvok's analysis. It seemed like the only question she could answer was whether or not she gave the Latarrans the sensor technology they wanted, and they seemed to be moving towards fighting with it or without it. Not for the first time, she closed her eyes and cursed the crew of the Vor'moch for being so cavalier with trading advanced technology for a quick way home.

Technology...

A memory of Voyager's first year in the Delta Quadrant occurred to her then. Not enough to stop the war, but at least something she could use to have a look at whatever the Karnaii didn't want her to see. And it might not be an ace, but any hole card was better than none.

"Tread carefully? Yes," Janeway said. "Sit tight? No. That's not all we can do."