NEW: An Evening of Fun... 1/? [R] VOY Title: An Evening of Fun in the Metropolis of Dreams Author: Michael Roy Hollihan (hollihan@bellsouth.net) Series: VOY Part: 1/? Rating: [R] Archivist: ASC, please do! @}-------- A rose for your hard work. Summary: An energy being finds much to enjoy in the dreams of the Voyager crew. Disclaimer: Star Trek, Voyager, and its characters are the property of Paramount. This story is mine and is not intended for profit. All rights not Paramount's are mine. No reposting or distribution without prior consent. ====================== Dear Reader, I've had this title floating around in my head for ages. It comes from the lyrics to "On Returning" by Wire, from the completely awesome album "154." It took a while to get the story hook that the title implies. I hope I got it right. Comments, criticisms, and observations always welcome. Mike Hollihan Memphis, TN ======================= An Evening of Fun in the Metropolis of Dreams Michael Roy Hollihan It rode the solar winds like a bird rides the thermals. The lines of solar flux were as currents in the oceans. Suns were lone clouds in clear skies, islands in blue seas. Its life was total freedom, and infinite emptiness. It knew that once it had had a corporeal body, but that was aeons ago. It had no memories from that time, having filled its mind with experiences accumulated from a nearly-infinite life. Solar energy was its food, but the life experiences of the beings it met in the vastness of space were its sustenance. It knew that there were others of its kind, but it had not seen any in longer than it could comprehend. Most drifted through the Galaxy; some had struck out past the Rim for the deeper, blacker spaces beyond. It passed a disturbance in the solar sea, like a boat's wake slicing across the waves. Intrigued, it turned to follow. At the point of the wake was a silvery egg, and inside it was a metal construct that the corporeal beings used to travel the void. It could see the energies used to keep everything together and to push the craft along. The intersection of Will, artifice, and Nature was striking in its results. It found these things beautiful in an artless way. Inside the construct were a twelve-twelve of beings. New experiences beckoned. Another feast could begin... === === === === "Captain, intruder alert! I--" Tuvok stopped and frowned at his readings. "There no longer seems to be an intruder." "Tuvok, explain." Captain Janeway turned in her chair to look at him. "I had a reading of an energy signature just inside the warp shell. It contacted the ship and then disappeared. I can find no further traces." "Probably a random anomaly. Run a Level Four diagnostic, just to be sure." "Aye, Captain." === === === === It moved through the ship carefully. Detection had nearly happened. These beings were somewhat more sophisticated than the usual in this area. It followed the conduits and circuits with caution. These creatures were walking through their construct, busy. It realized that these creatures were in the active phase of their diurnal cycle. Finding beings to feast on would take time. Its hunger was impatient. And then, in a large chamber of the construct, it found a single being inside a large device, asleep. It flowed through the circuitry and into the device... === === === === Seven of Nine walked through the corridors of Voyager, except this was not the Voyager she knew. It had dark lighting, giant circuits along the ceiling that met in nodes at the junctures, and a full complement of Borg. All along the walls were stations filled with Borg at work. The corridors swarmed with Borg on missions. But the familiar voices she expected in her head were not there. The ship was silent. Seven looked down, expecting to find herself in the black bioplast suit of a Borg. But her hands were bare, and pink, and she wore the tight suit of Voyager. She felt her head and found only hair. She looked around, bewildered. The Borg were ignoring her, either because she was one of them, or she was not yet a threat. She needed more information. Seven got into the path of an oncoming drone and grabbed it. The drone looked at her briefly and tried to get around. "When was this ship assimilated, and why was I not?" The drone didn't change expression, and went past her. Frustrated, she scanned the corridor and found a communication plate. Quick tinkering got an active channel. "When was the ship assimilated?" A deep male voice came from the communicator. "It has always been Borg. Cease interfering with our activities." "Why was I not assimilated? Why am I on this ship?" "You have been assimilated. By the Humans. You cannot be reassimilated. You will contaminate the Collective." "That is illogical. Have a drone begin the assimilation process." "No. Cease interfering with our activities. You are irrelevant." "No!" Seven was stunned, "I-- I want--" "Wants are irrelevant. You are irrelevant. Cease interfering with our activities." Seven stumbled away from the panel and down the corridor. She ricocheted from drone to drone in shock. All around her were the familiar sights of Voyager, with an overlay of familiar Borg technology. She could recognize what various drones were doing. To be *in* the Collective, but not *of* the Collective! She felt the pull inside her to rejoin them, to be Borg. Part of her wanted... *Part*... *wanted*... Terrified, she made her way to the Bridge. There she found some of the Voyager crew, now assimilated, at stations modified from their Starfleet functions to serve the Borg. And there was Captain Janeway, in black, with Borg tech all over her, her left hand removed to allow for additional tools that had better purposes. Janeway's eyes were dead, and her skin was Borg-grey. Seven went to her and punched a control on the panel she was working. Janeway turned to look at her, and began to push Seven away. "Captain! Explain this to me! How did this happen?" The Janeway-drone gave her a flat look. Her voice was flat as well, "'How' is irrelevant. You were correct, though. The Borg Collective is superior." "I do not understand. How can you reject--" "Individual identity is inefficient and inferior. Collective will and identity allows us to achieve far more." "But do you not regret the loss of your self?" "Regret is irrelevant. As are you. Cease interfering in our activities." Seven now heard a voice inside her, but it was an insane, gibbering madman. Terror was consuming her, one piece at a time. She looked around the Bridge and saw Tuvok. She ran to him. "Tuvok, do you also find this superior?" His one Vulcan eye turned to her. "Of course. When we were individuals, we were alone, frightened and unable to function. Now we perform flawlessly. It is logical, now that I see it." "But, I--" "Again, you say 'I.' Clearly, you no longer wish to join the Collective. You have been assimilated by the Humans, and serve no useful function for us. Cease interfering in our activities." Seven could not even think, she could only flee. She ran the corridors of Borg-Voyager, mindless of direction and thought. She saw a familiar door and ran through it. Inside, she rested against the door, with eyes closed, breathing heavily. Her mind would not stop, struggling between the safety of the Borg and the attraction of the Humans. A voice startled her. "Seven, are you OK?" She opened her eyes to see Harry Kim, un-assimilated and in his Starfleet uniform, standing before her. He looked worried. "The ship has been assimilated. Why aren't you and I part of the Collective?" "Assimilated?! Seven, what's wrong?" He walked up to her and put his hands on her upper arms. He looked closely at her face. "You're terrified! Seven, tell me what's happening." He clearly had no idea what she was talking about. Seven tapped her comm badge, "Seven calling Captain Janeway." A familiar, warm alto came back, "Janeway here, what do you need?" Seven was too confused to articulate that. "I-- Have we been near any Borg vessels?" "None that I know of. Are you experiencing contact with the Collective?" "I-- Perhaps I should go see the Doctor, Captain." "Keep me apprised, Seven." Kim's hands had slid down to her elbows. She brushed them off and strode into his room. Harry followed her. "Seven, what put you into this state? I've never seen such fear in you." "I had a hallucination, Ensign Kim." She could feel her composure returning now. "I thought that the Collective had assimilated Voyager and her crew, but not me." Harry came up behind her and put his hands back on her upper arms. "How terrible. To have been so close to the Collective, and not be a part..." He squeezed her. "I, I did not wish to rejoin them. I found myself wishing to remain as I am. I do not understand this." "You enjoy your humanity, Seven. Flaws and all." He was very close to her now, nearly whispering in her ear. She noticed this with only a small part of her consciousness, still intent on understanding her earlier conflict. Harry began to slide his hands up and down her arm. Some part of her started to respond. "For all its problems, there are tremendous rewards in your humanity. You should try to experience them." Harry's lips were nearly on her neck. She could feel his breath, caressing her. She realized that he had taken her wrists and crossed her arms over her belly. His chest was in her back. She felt a heat rising in her. "Carnal stimulation can be very pleasurable, Seven. It may be the most human thing of all." Now he was kissing her neck, and his right hand moved to cup her breast. The nerves all through her body tingled, and her nipples hardened. She let herself rest into him. "Ensign--" "Harry, please," he whispered into the ear he was nibbling. Both his hands were now moving all over her, squeezing, feeling, exploring, stroking. The heat in her neck and face was raging now. Harry turned her around and took her in his arms. They were chest to chest, almost. He reached up to her hair and let it down, splaying it over her shoulders. She watched him, waiting... Harry looked directly into her, open and calm. He leaned forward and kissed her softly. Then the kiss turned urgent and insistent. His tongue found its way and met hers. She struggled to match him, not quite knowing what to do, theoretical knowledge aside. Soon they found themselves in a passionate embrace, fierce and propulsive. Her body was fiery, glowing. Never had she imagined that physical stimulation could be like this. Tensions were pulling inside her, she was tightening and relaxing at the same time. They fell to the floor, clothes magically falling away. The touch of Harry's skin to her's just lit more fires within her. What happened was not making love, but neither was it the clinical sexual experience she had imagined for her first time. This was something completely new to her. Her body was a universe of desires and her mind was scanning them all. If being Borg meant giving this up, then never again.... === === === === It left her and returned to the ship's circuits, moving along. Such passion on the first taste! This construct would be a feast to remember... Fewer of the creatures were about. Hoping that at last they were now sleeping, he looked for a particular chamber... === === === === Harry awoke with a start. Crisp linens on the bed, splotched with sunlight, and the smell of roses, disoriented him. "Harry?" That voice. No... An arm reached over to him. He looked, hope and fear ripping him up. And it was. Libby. Their bed, on Earth. His heart raced, remembering this terrible incident. Not again. He couldn't handle going through this once again. "Harry? Is it time yet?" She was speaking sleepily. His tenderest memories were in some of these unguarded moments. Not again... "Libby, wake up. Please." He reached over and shook her. The touch of her skin... She sat up slowly, and seeing her face almost killed him. Her hair was mussed, and she couldn't focus. She looked around her. "Computer, what time is it?" "The time is 0730." The computer spoke in the voice of Libby' mother. Their personal joke. And another pinprick of fear. "Libby, what's going on?" She suddenly *looked* at him, fully awake now. She pulled her hair out of her face and touched him. More pinpricks... "Harry, Voyager's back home. Has been for several weeks. You're having another panic attack. Relax." Panic attack... Or another alien probe? Or another death experience? Or... Libby hugged him fiercely. He started and tried to break away. She resisted, and he could feel tears on his chest. "Oh, Harry, please, please, just come back to me." He tried to pat her back. But her warm skin was too much. She tilted her face to him, ruined with tears and red puffiness. "Harry, my love. You are home. Please come back here. Back to me..." Her sobs deepened. Overwhelmed, he could only hold her and wait her out. He looked around their apartment. Everything was as he imagined it might be, although there were differences such as could be expected after five years away. He looked out at the San Francisco sky. "I'm sorry, Libby. I could have sworn that I just went to sleep moments ago back on Voyager, in the Delta Quadrant. I--" "Harry, please remember. You found a wormhole that brought you back to Starbase 116, in the Parias Sector. After you were debriefed, they sent you back to Earth. That was two weeks ago. And you've been having nightmares and panic attacks ever since." "I-- It's just I don't remember any of this." He found himself stroking Libby's hair, holding her gently. As always... "The doctors said that you would be vulnerable to this, with all that you went through back there..." "How much have I told you, about 'back there,'" he asked. He studied her face for her reaction. 'Have I told you that I'm actually the quantum double of 'your' Harry?' he thought. "A lot. The Caretaker's probes, the 'afterlife,' the Vidiians, that planet of women, your and Tom's doubles on that Class L planet. Oh, all the horrors of those years. I'm just glad you're putting that behind you now." "What?" he looked closely at her, waiting and searching. "No, please stop this!" She beat his chest and pulled away. "You resigned Starfleet, Harry. Any sensible person would, after what you've been through. And now it's time for you to start healing from this trauma." "Healing?" He could understand that. How many times had he wished for a ship's counselor to talk to. He had tried with Tom; but he was too flippant, and troubled, himself. Captain Janeway would only give him Starfleet boilerplate. The EMH Doctor?! Somehow, he had never warmed up to Commander Chakotay. And he had never gotten close to any of the women on Voyager, always holding on to Libby. She had quietly moved beside him, just skin to skin, in thought. Harry let go, and put his arm around her. "It is hell out there..." "Was" she whispered. He held it for a second. "'Was.'" Deep in him, a bitter lump came up. He was so surprised, he couldn't stop it. And before he knew it, he was sobbing and crying like a baby. Libby put his head in her lap, and cooed soft words. The traumas, the terrors, the unanswered questions, all flooded from him. Five years of 'hanging in there' had accumulated into a terrible ball of unresolved fear. He had kept that ball tightly tucked away, never letting on how it ate at him. He couldn't. Too many depended on him. One hundred-forty-two lives. The whole mission to get home. He had to be perfect, or he would let them down. The price of failure was unthinkable, unacceptable. He couldn't have that cost fall on him. The realization that the burden was now off him set off a new round of tears. He clutched Libby with claw-like hands, unheeding of the damage he was doing. He hadn't failed after all. He had done it. He had been perfect. === === === === It left this creature, sated. But gluttony now drove it. These beings were so powerful, so driven! He sought out another... === === === === He had heard a sound in the forest. Underneath the bird calls, and the soughing of the winds through the tall elms and pines, he had heard a man's cries. Chakotay barely had time to notice his own archaic dress, tunic and leggings and pointed felt cap, before a crashing in the woods turned into a frightened man. "My lord, she is ahead! I saw her in the castle, upon the battlements. She was searching the forest. She looks for you, sire! Come, quickly!" Before he could protest, the man was pulling on his free arm. His other arm, he was surprised to learn, held a bow and staff. He was horrified to see that the man who pulled him on had a poxy face and rotten teeth. Where was he? Allowing himself to be led, he kept looking around him for some clue. Soon they came to a clearing, fed by a small creek. And on a low hill in the center of the clearing, was a small, tumbledown castle. 'Oh no,' he thought, 'wrong fantasy.' "Sire, behind this bush, lest Lord Mark see you!" The man grabbed Chakotay's collar and dropped him to the leaves and brush of the forest floor. The man leaned in close, evil breath choking Chakotay, and said, "You may yet rescue her, sire. Your chance is at hand." "What the hell is going on here? What is this?" "Ah, my liege. Have you been touched by the hand of God again? We are here to rescue your love and troth, Lady Kathryn. Her father has opposed you, calling you a traitor to the Crown; and refused your marriage." Kathryn in medieval Europe? This sounded more like her dream than his. Certainly he could imagine more comfortable outfits than the scratchy cloth he wore. He carefully looked around the clearing. Before he could think through what he was seeing, he heard the sound of more men's voices. The man, whose name he still didn't know, pulled him further down. "It is Lord Mark's soldiers. Lie quietly, sire. It is death if they find you." Sure enough, two men in beat-up armor, with damaged shields and dull swords walked past them. They muttered unhappily about sentry duty and missing their supper. They paid no attention to their surroundings. Chakotay resumed his scan of the castle. It was old, and poorly maintained. Moss grew on the rocks, and mortar had fallen out in places. Only the oak beams of the main gate looked impressive. They looked as though they could withstand any assault. And then he saw her. In a simple purple gown, she walked the high tower. Her red hair fell past her shoulders; loosed, and catching the evening winds. Her face was resolute, but the worried heart showed through. She was searching the woods, and her hands were picking at the rocks of the battlements. Fear, longing, sorrow, anger, all were alloyed in her angelic face. His love was being kept from him! The warrior spirit in him rose up. This would not stand! "Simon, how many guards does Lord Mark have?" Chakotay was determined to get her out. To reunite the two halves of their love. "Six, my liege. One attends him. We saw the two sentries. The others I know not about." Simon looked at Chakotay with pride. "You will rescue her then?" "My hand will not be stayed until it holds hers, Simon." "Here then, Sire," Simon reached into his filthy tunic, "is a map of the castle. You can scale the walls, but getting out will require you to open the gate. I can wait for you here." Chakotay put the parchment in his own shirt. Chakotay gave him the bow, and the quiver of arrows on his back. "And be sure of your target, before you loose your arrow." Where was he getting this language? He was increasingly becoming enmeshed in this... fantasy, but he was sure that he must go to Kathryn. His heart was sure of that. The setting sun gave him dark cover on this side of the castle. He easily scaled the walls, finding hand- and footholds on the ancient, crumbling rock. He reached the parapet, hoping that Kathryn would be there, easing their escape. But there was no one--not even guards! Crouched low behind the wood rail, he watched the courtyard below for any sign of the Lord's men. Chakotay pulled out Simon's map and compared it with what he saw. The Lord's chambers were across from him. A flickering candle flame caught his eye. And there she was again. Faster than he knew, he was across the courtyard and below her window. He listened for other voices, and heard none. Bracing himself, he rose and looked in. She was standing right in front of him. For a moment, fear marred her face. And then it outshone the candle itself when she recognized him. Kathryn set the candle down and reached through the window to him. "My love. I knew you would come!" She smothered him with kisses, stroking his hair and gripping his face. He came through and stood with her in a passionate embrace. Their kisses became one long, deep, searching kiss. He was surprised at her ardor. Kathryn rarely showed this side of herself to him. Except for her anger, her self-control was legendary. She broke the kiss, to look at him. Even in pale candlelight, she was beautiful. She seemed please at what she saw, as well. "Kathryn, can you open the gate for us? Simon waits on the other side." "Oh, Chakotay, I have a better plan. You must face my father, Lord Mark, and humble him. Only then can he respect you." Kathryn began to pull him to the door. He stopped her, "Wait! I can't do that! We must steal away." She let his hand go, and faced him with her arms crossed. "I can't give up all that I have here. You must follow me." "I love you, Kathryn Janeway." How easily he said that! And how good it felt to do so. He regained some sureness. "I think we should go away and make our lives first. Then face him down when we have something behind us." "Why do you do this to me? I knew you would come, but I never thought it would be to criticize me!" She put her hand to her mouth, thinking. Head down, wagging that same hand at him, she started to pace around him. "We can't just take off. How will we live?" "We can take care of ourselves. We have for these five years." Five? These arguments always confused and tired him. It sometimes seemed that they couldn't see the noses on each other's face, so determined were they to focus on their own. "I cannot leave my Lord, my home, my life. Even for love. I have too much at stake. Why must you fight me on this?" She looked at him with disappointment. And then he knew it would always be this way with her. Unless... Chakotay walked up to his love, and kissed her tenderly. He looked at her sympathetically, then slugged her. Her unconscious form fell to the floor. He picked her up, threw her body over his shoulder, intending to make his way back to the battlements. But he stopped, and gently set Kathryn down on her bed instead. He gave her another kiss, and left. === === === === It was surprised at this creature's change of nature. It had showed no signs of such a reversal. These creatures apparently did have their limits. It left the chamber and flowed back into the construct's circuits. It needed something different. This was a many-coursed feast, indeed. === === === === Neelix was finishing up in the Mess Hall, putting up the last of the pots and setting up some coffee for the late night types, when he heard it. "Neelix." There was no mistaking that husky voice. Neelix spun around, and there she was--Kes. "Kes, my sweetplum. What brings you back?" Neelix ran to her and hugged her. She looked just as she had a year ago, with the same long golden hair, wearing the same cobalt-blue velour suit. "You do, Neelix. I missed you." She stood there, smiling. "And I've missed you too. So much has happened. Oh, and thank you, from everyone, for pushing us past the Borg." Kes looked around the Mess, "And you are still the cook?" Neelix was nonplused. He pulled Kes to a table. "I should tell the Captain you're here." "No, Neelix, I'm only here for you. Is this still all you do?" Now he was confused, bordering on angry. Only his delight at seeing her held him back. "'All I do'? What do you mean?" She took his hand. "It's just that I was able to change, and grow. First as the Doctor's assistant, then to a higher plane of existence. But you haven't changed at all." "Well, I'm the Morale Officer. I have an inter-ship program to keep the crew entertained and informed--" "A cook and a clown, then." That did it. "What the hell happened to you Kes? Does evolution also bring a nasty attitude? What's this about?" "Why are you still here? What you do is only marginally necessary. And the crew laugh at you behind your back." Neelix threw his chair back, standing up to scream at her. "They do not! And if it made them happier, then so what..." He was suddenly furious. Why would she come all this way just to bring this up? He had only hinted at his discomfit before. Why come thousands of light-years to do this now? "I never understood that part of you Neelix. You were a middling successful trader who hitched a ride, on a pretext, with this ship. Your real usefulness expired after we left known space. Why stay on now? Didn't your death experience teach you anything?" "How do you know about that?" He was pleading now, "What is this *about*?" "You tell me." "I'm an important part of this crew now. The Captain even says so." He walked over to the counter and leaned on it. "I stay because I'm needed." "No." "'No'? Just like that?" "Yes." He was flustered. Something looked amis timhind the counter, so he went to check on it. Kes remained seated. He kept speaking as he checked his pots and pans. "I like it here. I like seeing new and exciting things. I've seen things we could never have dreamed of, back on Ocampa. And made friends, too." "You had friends, and family too, back there. Why are" she emphasized each word, "you... here?" He exploded, knocking over pans and throwing the coffee pot at the ports. "Because I have nowhere else to go! I can't go back--not 15,000 light years. And I can't just get dropped off somewhere. I know nothing about the people around here! What would I do? Where would I go?" He stormed over to face down Kes. "At least here, I mean something. It may not be much, but it's better than nothing." "I thought so." And Kes vanished. Stunned, Neelix could only stand there with his ache splattered in front of him. He fell into a chair, and cried. === === === === It decided that a lighter experience was called for now. Something to entertain, as well as nourish... === === === === "Hey Tommy!" The tan woody pulled into the Starlight Drive-in, with two surf boards strapped on top, and three guys stuffed inside--Harry, Neely, and The Doc. Tom stood next to his '57 Chevy, its red finish polished to a high gloss, in his Ray-bans and Hawaiian shirt, his cool equally well-polished. He tilted down the shades and eyed his best buds. "What's the word?" "Hoo, man! Six footers, with gnarly pipes, Tommy. Let's go!" The woody guys were whooping and shouting in anticipation of a glorious day of surfing. Before he could get in his rod, Tom spotted the *most* babe coming out of the drive-in. Brown hair, brown eyes, olive skin, and 'tude to die for. Tom knew a challenge, and rose to meet it. "Hang cool, dudes. Incoming." Tom moved to intercept her before she could get in her Corvair. He slid up to the driver's door just as she reached for the handle. Tom turned on his best high-wattage smile. "Hey, baby. You must be new here. I'm Tom, Tom Paris. Best surfer on the beach and best racer on the streets." "Do tell." She looked over her cat's-eye glasses and looked him over. He took advantage of the opportunity to get a better look at the bikini she wore under her fishnet camisole. 'Definite potential here,' he thought. She seemed to agree, as she was now smiling at him. "So what's your name?" he asked. "I'm Lana" She leaned against her car with him, sipping from her Coke. 'Ahh, hard to get.' Tom pointed to his friends in the station wagon. "We were about to head down to the beach for some surfing. Wanna come?" "Sure." Tom escorted her to his Chevy, threw his towel and transistor radio in the back with his board, and seated her. She checked out his car while he got in. "Nice rod. Yours?" "You bet. Worked on it myself. Keep it tuned to sing, too." He peeled rubber just to prove the point. At the beach, they made small talk. She talked about her Dad, and how her mother was from another country. That explained her exotic looks. He talked about his Dad, the Admiral, who was stationed at the Air Force base; and how he was probably gonna be a pilot one day. Tom looked over the blue seas to a distant horizon, "I can't think of anything better than flying, surfing, and hot rods." He turned to her, "Except you." Out on the waves, Tom's buds were yelling for him. "Tom, you here to surf or make out?" Harry ribbed. Tom decided it was time. He pulled off his shirt, careful to let Lana get a good look, and grabbed his board. "Watch this, Lana." He laid his board, and paddled out into the surf. When he was in position, he turned and scanned the beach for her. She was nowhere to be seen! 'Hmpf.' he thought, 'Just like a chick.' He leapt up and started to ride the waves. But before he could set, he heard a voice over his shoulder. "My wave!" And Lana came rocketing past him in a wicked hang-ten! Tom was so surprised he wiped out, to the laughter of Harry, Neely, and The Doc. He came up for air, and brushed the wet hair out of his face. Lana was on the shore now, smiling. She crooked a finger at him. "My kinda gal," Tom said. === === === === It grew tired of this and went back into the construct. There were others to explore. Several beings belonged to a species that held its ferocity in tight check. That should prove entertaining. Passing one chamber, it sensed a complex flow of energies. This chamber seemed to have something to do with maintaining their corporeal bodies. In passing into the chamber, it found another energy being inside! Had it trespassed into another's feast? Or was this another species? Before it could get answers, it noticed that the fields of energy completely surrounded the being, enclosing it in an almost-cage. Slavery! It fled the ship in horror, fearing for its existence. === === === === "Captain, I am getting that spurious reading again," Tuvok called out. "Should we activate an intruder alert?" "It appears to have been leaving. I cannot sense it anymore." "Have you run that Level Four diagnostic yet?" Janeway got up to look over his station readouts. He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Twice." "Well, let it go. In the meantime, I'm going to bed. The Bridge is yours, Commander." "Good dreams, Captain." THE END