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"Ezbai!" cried Chakotay.

Ezbai moaned, but he was conscious. "Find... Ioni," he gasped. "Have to stop... the killing... our fault. You were right, Chakotay. Fear, and hate... kill us all."

"It's not just your fault," came a voice from the darkness. Soliss stepped forward and knelt to examine his wife. He looked up at Paris, at the weapon the young man held, and then turned to regard Ezbai. "It's the Culilann's fault as well."

"We'll argue about who's at fault later," said Chakotay. "Tom, you're with me."

"But Trima's the target," Paris protested.

'1 was the target," said Trima, "but now the whole village is. Stop whoever is doing this, Tom. Stop them right now."

He looked into her eyes, saw the determination there, and nodded. She would be all right. For the moment

"No rocks at Trima," Paris told Soliss. The man smiled, sadly.

"No rocks at anyone," he assured Tom.

Chakotay and Paris moved swiftly in the darkness, in search of a killer. Inwardly, Chakotay grieved. Why did it always seem to have to come down to this? If only he could believe what the Implementer so clearly had chosen to believe, that dark matter was at the heart of the conflict.

But it wasn't Hate was.

Instinct told him to move silently, stealthily. But the overwhelming roar of the blazing village would drown out any noise he could possibly make other than a shout, and the false, wild shadows of the flickering flames would do as much to disguise him from another's eyes as reveal him.

loni was the only one at large now. The Recovery team had found and stopped her compatriots. Whatever loyalty they had had toward her had disappeared under Chakotay's angry interrogations, and they had all been quick to agree that she had been the ringleader. Chakotay privately did not doubt it, but he would let Ezbai and the Implementer reserve judgment until after a fair trial.

Paris moved quietly behind him, his shadow. Soot and sweat were the most notable parts of his features now, and his clothing had been burned. Chakotay knew how weak the ensign was, but also knew that Tom had an inner strength that he was calling upon and that would not fail him until this final task was done.

Carefully, they moved from hut to hut, from pool of shadow to pool of shadow, searching for movement, a flash of pale blue skin showing white in the night. One by one the huts were collapsing, becoming so much tinder. There was a chance, a good one, that loni had already fled into the shelter of the surrounding jungle. It would hide her and her trespasses, and she had a weapon to defend herself against the other beasts that dwelt there.

But something told him she wouldn't. loni acted out of arrogance and hate, and such motivations seldom allowed for fleeing into the night. She would be here, and she would kill or be killed.

Glance into the hut, see if there was anyone, murderer or victim, inside, move on. Chakotay's mouth was parched from the smoke and he knew Tom wasn't feeling any better.

There were only a few more huts remaining. Chakotay tensed for the confrontation.

Joni's skin was almost blistering before her eyes. How had it gone so wrong? They were several armed Alilann against a slumbering, unarmed village. It ought to have been ease itself to wipe this place off the map.

The huts would catch so quickly the occupants wouldn't even awaken as they burned to death. The only one who might be a problem was the Culil, who might be awake praying to their false gods, and who would rouse the others. loni had killed enough of them to be able to identify their huts by now. She had dispatched the former Culil easily enough; his replacement ought to be no problem at all.

Except the Culil's replacement had been a problem. An enormous problem, a deadly problem. She had met loni at the door with some kind of weapon of her own. loni barely had time to dive to the side before the younger woman fired. What was a Culil doing with so technologically advanced a weapon? loni tucked and rolled and came