AN:

Hello everybody, It's LLC with a new story!

Yes I know!... I bet it's not what a lot of you want to hear...but, it's time to take a break from my other stories and to try a bit of science fiction instead.

This time I have decided to try something different and write a Star Trek Online story. Also...this time I will be writing shorter chapters as I just don't have the time anymore to write the huge 10000+ chapters I usually do. Expect 3000 to 6000 word chapters instead of the usual 10000 to 15000 chapters. Maybe this way I'll actually post a few chapters without you having to wait ages for a new one.

Anyway...I hope those of you loyal readers who read this will enjoy my newest creation.

As always, if you like it please feel free to leave a review... or simply read and subscribe it. Your choice.

And now... On with the story:


Story Information and Prologue.


One Time disclaimer for all Chapters: Star Trek Online belongs to Cryptic Studios. The Star Trek Universe was created by Gene Roddenberry.

As always, I reserve the right to replace and/or update chapters at any time. All chapter are beta'd by myself. I'm doing this purely for fun and no money is being made from this story. Constructive criticism and suggestions are, as always, appreciated.

Updates will be sporadic at best...so be prepared to wait!

Story Name: Hegh batlhlIj (Klingon for: 'Death with honour')

The alliance with the Klingon Empire has collapsed and the Borg are about to invade. The Federation is losing badly...and Section 31 is unhappy. Their response: To create the ultimate warrior. This is the story of that warrior.

Story Type: A Star Trek Online story. It will primarily follow the plot of the game...but I will also try to be unique.

Rated: T at present, may change if necessary.

Pairings: None at present... However, I do plan to have some romance as well as some point.

Time Lines: Most of the story will take place after the year 2409 (graduation), that's about 30 years after the events of Star Trek Nemesis. However, there will also be some time travel to different era's (mostly Kirk's era but I also plan to add some TNG, Voyager, Enterprise, DSN...as well as the unknown future and a few trips into alternate dimensions such as the mirror universe)

Warnings: Standard spoiler alerts apply! ( so you might want to play the game first)

Important: My main character WILL be OP. She has been created and designed by myself and Section 31 to be the 'perfect' captain and ultimate warrior. In short a true fleet killer. The klingons (and other races) will fear...and sometimes they will even run from her, rather than face her in battle!

If you don't like this, then this story is not for you. For those of you who love this sort of thing, please feel free to grab some popcorn and read on.

Note: This story was inspired by a certain captain named Ronald Pinkerton from 117Jorn 's 'Star Trek Frontier URE' series as well as To Boldly Go by Thrans. All three stories are well worth the read if you haven't done so already!

And now...on with the story:


Prologue

A weapon is born!


Location: Unknown. A hidden base, somewhere, deep in the beta quadrant.

Stardate: 82571.9

An old man, dressed in the traditional 4 square pipped red uniform of a full Star Fleet admiral, sighed unhappily to himself as he read another report, for what seemed like the umpteenth time in the past hour.

This old man's name... was Desmond Duke.

For anybody who did not know him, you might be interested to know that Admiral Duke just happened to be one of Section 31's highest ranking members and its main contact to Star Fleet Academy. As such, if you wanted information about the Academy and the recruits inside, he would be the man to go to.

Currently Duke was in his office catching up on every leader's greatest nightmare, the undefeatable bane, known simply as... Datapad work.

No matter the year, or the technology used, whether is was named parchment work, paperwork or datapad work, it would always continue to haunt the lives of many great men and women.

As fate would have it, at that moment Duke was not in a good mood.

Once again the Federation...his Federation. The same federation he had sworn to protect at all costs...with his own life if necessary - even if it was just from the shadows - had lost yet another ship to the Klingons.

Depressingly, it was always the same news lately.

Another defeat!

Another retreat!

Another Lost crew!

Out numbered...outgunned...humiliated by the Federations former ally, recently turned enemy. Once again... a few of the federation's finest, who would not be coming back home.

Oh, he was really getting sick of it!

"When will they ever learn," he grumbled to himself.

"When would they ever learn that diplomacy only works when the enemy is actually willing to play by your rules," he moaned dismally to himself.

'The Klingons don't care about our type of diplomacy. They laugh at our 'peaceful' diplomacy. In fact, the only real 'diplomacy', the Klingons understand is the sharp edge of a Bath'leth...or a good photon torpedo up their...dark back sides,' he thought fiercely, before angrily tossing the report away, only to pick up another one a few seconds later and then scowl even more than before as it just turned out to be more of the same.

'It's this pathetic behavior these days that makes me wonder how we ever got this far in the first place,' he snarled in his head as he read about a recent Klingon attack on a Federation Colony, which was half destroyed before any help arrived. At this rate the Federation would soon be defeated in a few short years. Probably even months if they were unlucky.

Oh, how he wished for the good old days of the hero's and brave adventurers. The days when Kirk, Archer and the rest of their ilk were still around. Oh, how he so dearly wished for the days when captains were still allowed to actually fight first and ask questions later. Those were the real pioneers of the galaxy. Not the wimps he had to deal with these days.

Sometimes rushing in with shields up and guns blazing really was the only answer. As it was, he was sure, the only reason why the Federation still existed to this very day, was because of four main reasons:

One... they usually had the most powerful weapons, superior tactics and the most advanced technology in the quadrant. After all, you had to have the best, if you constantly fought and survived against technologically advanced and powerful races...like the Borg...or the Undine. Or at least that was true, up to this point. Sadly, the other races seemed to be catching up.

Two... The enemies of the Federation were either too far away - in the case of the Borg and the Dominion. Or they found it too difficult to reach the Federation - in the case of the Undine, who had to travel from another parallel universe filled with organic fluid rather than vacuum.

Three... they constantly fought among themselves - in the case of the Romulans and the Klingons, making a unified conquest of the Federation extremely difficult at the best of times.

Or four... they had the most incredible luck, to be forewarned about a threat before it could arrive and therefore had enough time to prepare for the enemy. Q for one had helped them immensely when he had transported the USS Enterprise D to the Borg. Probably not what the omnipotent being had intended when he had done that, but...he had.

In a way he was very thankful to Q for that. Had the Enterprise not been transported to the Delta Quadrant to meet with the Federations - not to mention the whole galaxies - main nemesis...well...

Look at it this way:

It took a whole fleet of the Federations best ships to take out just 'one' of the Borgs own ships 30 years ago. Even then the Federation lost 36 ships before the single Borg vessel was finally destroyed. In fact, it was only due to a mere fluke, in the form of a recently liberated x-borg that they even managed to win. A pyrrhic victory at best, if ever there was one. The fact remained, they most likely would have lost had it not been for Picard.

Not good odds to say the very least. Not good odds at all.

Luck may well have been on their on their side so far... but...the question remained. For how long would it last?

Luckily, quite a few technological, scientific and strategic breakthroughs had been made since that disastrous encounter, in a desperate attempt to even the odds, but even now, even with Voyagers help thirty years later, it was still always a great risk, at best, to fight the Borg.

Shaking his head, the admiral snorted softly. It was directly for this very reason, why his organisation had been created in the first place and why he was so willing to work for it.

Section 31!

The Federations only real hope. At least it felt like it, with the way Starfleet was acting at present.

Section 31... the secret intelligence agency. Section 31...the black ops of the Federation...and at times... Section 31... the only reason why the Federation even still existed. At least in his opinion.

Too bad the naive idiots in Star Fleet didn't agree.

To hell with their blasted rules, softhearted regulations and even more idiotic directives. Couldn't they understand that sometimes rules just HAD to be broken, if you wanted to survive?

Well, it sure didn't look like they did.

He had always been of the opinion that the directives should only have been used as guidelines to follow, but not to die for, if you could avoid it.

Was Section 31 really that bad that they had to hide and operate from the shadows, just so that the majority could yet live?

The other empires also had their own secret agencies... such as the Romulan Tal Shiar and the Cardassian Obsidian Order. But unlike Section 31 they weren't forced to hide everything they did.

Hah! Even the Klingons, the so called 'honorable warrior race', had their own secret intelligence agency, though it was usually frowned upon. Too dishonorable for the most of them. Klingons, after all, preferred to get close and personal whenever they could. They wanted to smell your fear and watch as you pissed yourself, right before they struck their Bath'leths into your skull.

If anything, the other intelligence agencies were usually far worse than Section 31 ever was, but you sure didn't hear the Romulans...or the Cardasians crying about it. Did you? NO! If anything they supported them!

It just wasn't fair at times.

All Section 31 ever wanted was to protect and secure the Federations future. So what if they had to bend a few rules, or do a few unsavory things from time to time to make sure the Federation still existed in the years to come. It sure beat the alternative which was defeat...or worse... extinction.

Was that really too much to ask for?

Sighing to himself, the admiral quickly signed a datapad and put it down on the table.

'Oh well,' he thought. At least now there was hope at the end of the tunnel...or was that at the end of the wormhole now? No matter.

Standing up from his desk, he stretched his tired limbs and walked to a near by window. From there, he took a moment to look out at the vastness of space and study a few of the many stars beyond. They seemed so beautiful, it would be a shame if humanity were not around to see them anymore in a few years time.

It was nearly time for his scheduled secret meeting with a few 'like minded' colleagues of his.

If Section 31's newest plan worked, then there was a fair chance that soon their problems might well be at an end. At least he hoped so.

It still felt like as if they were putting all of their hopes into one basket. A basket that was riddled with holes and falling apart at one end. Still, at present, it seemed they had no choice. Not anymore. Not if they wanted the Federation to survive to the next decade.

Slowly, he walked to a near by replicator.

"Computer!"

*Beep*

"Tea... Jasmine...hot...with extra sugar...oh, and add a generous touch of gin," he ordered. 'I think I'm going to need it,' he thought dismally.

Patiently, waiting for the machine to do it's job, he took the freshly replicated drink and walked back to his seat.

Sitting back down in his seat he quietly supped his tea and tried to relax as best as he could while he waited for the last few minutes of freedom to tick away.

All too soon the chime of the door bell was heard.

*Chirp*

"Come!" he called out and waited patiently as four other people entered the room.

Slowly he studied the new arrivals.

One, a commander, if the three full coloured black pips on his collar were to be believed, was one of Section 31's top field agents and their main contact - besides himself - to Star Fleet. Or rather, Star Fleet Academy to be exact.

The second person to come in was dressed in the usual civilian outfit people tended to wear these days. However, what really made this 'civilian' special was, that he was not actually a civilian at all, but in fact a Star Fleet captain. Not just any captain, but actually a time traveler from 40 years in the future. He was also the main reason why they were even here in the first place. In his time, the Federation...and the other races had all fallen to a greater race. It was for this reason why he had chosen to travel back in time. To warn them of what was to come.

The next to enter was a politician, one who was cleverly placed in the higher echelons of the Federation ruling council and someone who even had the Federation's presidents trust. He was dressed in a formal suit instead of the common civilian outfit most people chose to wear.

Finally, the last person, arguably, the most important of the three, was a scientist. Dressed in nearly the same clothes as the captain, just in a different colour, he was the head of Section 31's top secret genetics and augments department. It was this man who, in a few short minutes, would be deciding the future of the Federation.

At least he hoped so.

Together these four individuals and admiral made up some of the most powerful and influential people of Section 31, answering only to the director who had declined to come that day.

Briefly standing up, Desmond shook all of their hands.

"Welcome! Darius... please, take a seat. Would you like a drink? Cyrus, what about you? Something to eat perhaps? You perhaps Ajax?" he asked, motioning invitingly towards the replicator.

Several minutes and two freshly replicated drinks later, all five occupants of the room took a seat and were finally ready to start the meeting.

"Now...before we begin...," the admiral said and held up his hand up to stall the others from speaking.

"Computer!"

*Beep!*

"Activate all visual and audio dampening fields, deactivate all recording devices and lock all doors, authorization, Duke - Sierra - 31."

(((Acknowledged! visual and audio dampening fields engaged. No recording devices found)))

"Good...now we can begin."

"What is the current status of our enemies? Any sight of the Borg threat you told us about?" he asked, looking towards the captain from the future, though he directed the question towards everybody in the room.

The captain shook his head.

"No...no sign of them. But that's to be expected. We didn't see them last time either until they were already right on top of us and by the time we were able to respond Vega and the surrounding colonies had already been assimilated. From there it was only a short warp to Qo'noS. The Klingons, for all their bravery and honour didn't last long, and by the time they were finally willing to swallow their pride and allow us to help them, the Borg had more than enough drones in place to easily assimilate Earth. Not that I'm actually expecting them to be here yet. There should be no reason why they would suddenly be here 4 years early this time round," he answered.

"What about the Romulans," the Commander asked, dismayed at the perceived hopelessness of the situation. If the Klingons had no chance against the Borg, than what hope did they have?

"Hah!, The Romulans! Don't make me laugh!" They... they just sat back and let the Borg conquer us! They claimed they had enough problems of their own and could not spare any forces to help. I bet they cheered when the Borg assimilated Vulcan. Bloody green pointy-eared bastards,"the captain answered bitterly."

"I'm not talking about the Star Empire. I'd be very surprised if 'they' ever helped us...or anyone for that matter. No, I'm talking about our allies, the Romulan Republic," the Commander amended.

"The Republic? Well, I guess they did help, at first and... sure, they sent a few ships to aid us in our struggle. At least at first. However, they where of no real use to us to actually make a trace of a difference. Not that I blame them, mind you... especially not after the Borg assimilated New Romulus a mere two weeks after they first tried to help. In a way they were some of our most loyal ally's, choosing to join what remained of our fleets after the fall of earth...right to the bitter end.

"What about the other races... the Cardasians?...hell, even the dominion? Surely someone must have helped before it was too late?" the Admiral asked grimly.

"The Cardasians? They actually packed up and abandoned their planets rather than choosing to fight! The last we saw of them was a huge flotilla fleeing out into the unknown far reaches of the galaxy. Come to think of it, of all the races, they were probably the smartest. For all I know they could actually have made it to safety... no matter how brief that safety might have been," the captain answered with a trace of humor in his voice.

"And the Dominion?," the admiral asked, facepalming his face.

"As soon as 'they' realised what was happening, they decided to cut their losses and somehow forced the wormhole to collapse and go super nova rather than fight. Still have no idea how they actually managed that but...as you can well imagine, that was when we lost contact with DS9 and all of our forces in the Bajoran sectors."

"Oh no! As if the Borg are not enough, the Dominion some how found a way to turn the wormhole into a Weapon of Galactic Destruction...," the commander bemoaned dismally. The more he listened to the captain, the more depressed he became.

"Enough!" the scientist in the room suddenly said. He had chosen to stay quiet until that moment, but no more.

"Instead of moaning and bitching about stories of how we might be defeated in the future...how about we instead talk about how we will actually avoid such a fate. I for one have no intention of allowing those mechanic monstrosities to assimilate myself any time soon. Not if I can help it.

"Agreed!" the other four said simultaneously.

"About that, I still think we should just tell Star Fleet about this. Surely they would have enough time to prepare if they knew about what was coming. After all, they have done it before. So why not again," the time travelling captain suggested.

"No, we already agreed that it would not work. The last time was pure luck. Besides, while I'm sure a good few would no doubt be willing to break the Federations precious rules and do whatever must be done to survive, the majority will still stall and stop those who might. I'm afraid that there are just way too many rules, idiotic regulations and self-righteous fools around for any plan to work in time. Not to mention all the red tape and corrupt bureaucrats who would have to willingly give up their power, fortunes and cushy lifestyles for us to actually succeed. By the time they decide to help it will already be too late. There are just too many thing which could go wrong," the Commander stated. A declaration which caused the other participants of the meeting to frown.

"Then how about we just take over... a few well placed assassinations...a few people put into the right positions...with your help admiral I'm sure it could be done," the politician asked, already thinking about a few corrupt officials and loyal captains he could convince to help, with the right incentives and promotions of course.

"I agree, I'm sure Agent Drake for one would be able to...persuade a few key people to look the other way from time to time if it becomes necessary," the Commander agreed.

"No...again too risky... we are not strong enough or secure enough to do that. Trust me...I'd know. Maybe if we were the Tal Shiar and the Federation were the Star Empire, then it might work... but if 'we' tried it in our current state, then it would only cause a civil war...which would only weaken us even more. And that is something we can not afford if we want any chance of success," Desmond answered, ignoring the grumbles and complaints the others were giving him.

"No...for there to be any success at all, as much as I hate to admit it... we will have to do this their way for once. And this includes playing by their rules...at least for 90% of the time," he added a few seconds later.

"So...I take it this means Project Sparta is a go?" the Scientist asked, gleefully.

"I don't like this any more than you..er...I mean the most of us do" he said looking at the scientist. "It's like putting all of our hopes into one basket. However, it does seem like our only option right now," the Captain answered with a frown.

"Unfortunately, like you said, it's the best we have...and it's why we have to make 100% sure...it...that is, 'Project Sparta' doesn't fail," the admiral remarked sternly.

"Yes... well... since we are on the topic of Project Sparta...how is our...'Spartan' doing anyway?" the politician asked.

"Are we really ready to unleash 'it'...Him?...or was it a Her yet?" the commander asked. He was very interested in Section 31 newest project. Very interested indeed. From what he had heard the Spartan would be a true super warrior. The ultimate warrior to be exact.

"Her!... and she is in the finishing stages," the Scientist answered, smugly.

"As you well know we took the best samples from multiple species and ...'assimilated' them into her body, the scientist said, choosing to use Borg terminology to explain his newest creation.

"While the loss of certain body strength due to her gender is... unfortunate, I can happily report that the rest of the project was otherwise a total success. Ocampa females simply tend to be... more powerful telepathically than their male counterparts, hence why I had her turned into a female. As it is, I thought the sacrifice to be well within acceptable parameters...," he added a second later a near manic grin appearing on his face.

"Don't worry though, she is still 100% human. Or at least 99%. As close to human as she can be with all the extra alien DNA in her. At the very least she will look like a human. As it is, I am happy to announce that Project Sparta officially has the resilience of a Klingon, the strength of a Vulcan, the telepathic ability of an Ocampa...not to mention...some limited shape shifting ability from our all so 'helpful' captive Founder... and even the memories, as limited as they may be of a 10000 year old Trill symbiont."

"Yes...I heard about that. How did that work out again?," the admiral asked, interrupting the scientist before his ego could inflate even further. Though he had to admit, it was impressive.

*Sigh* "I regret to say, it could have been better...but then again, it could also have been a lot worse too. Let me remind you that it WAS experimental...and that there never was any actual guarantee that it would have worked. Same with the founder DNA for that matter. I'm still amazed that it even worked as much as it did in the first place... even if only for a few minutes in the case of the symbiont. As it is, it probably wouldn't have worked at all if she had been fully human and did not have at least some Trill DNA in her," the scientist responded, his good mood ruined by the admirals remark.

"Unfortunately there were a few...let's call them compatibility complications. Complications which resulted in the unfortunate loss of the symbiont. Regrettable...but...expected... and well within acceptable parameters, as I might already have mentioned before," the scientist added.

"Yes...about that...luckily the Trill are still blaming the Cardasians for the kidnapping. It cost us a few of our best agents to make it happen and plant the false evidence. Agents who had to surgically alter themselves to look like the reptiles and then had vaporize themselves just so they would not be captured. Make sure the Trill will never find out who actually kidnapped one of their most respected elders." the admiral added, sternly. He really could do without the mess and the massive migraine which would be created if 'that' ever came out.

"Yes well... as I was saying. While we did not manage to get much of it's knowledge and experiences as I would have liked, seeing as it chose to die rather than let us have all of it's knowledge. I have been assured that, due to the brief connection, no matter how brief it may have been, that subject Sparta's ability to learn will be greatly improved and that she might even get a few flashbacks from time to time from the symbiont's previous 60 or so hosts. If we help along a bit...maybe with some mental stimulation exercises, then I'm sure we can even...unlock' quite a few other 'experiences'. Experiences which will no doubt 'help her', and thereby us in the future."

"Considering that quite a few of the symbionts past hosts were former star fleet officers...and that one of its Trill hosts even made it all the way up to the rank of fleet admiral of the Trill Space Forces, this should prove to be quite a boon. Not to forget that one of the hosts was once a crew member which had served unboard the original USS Enterprise, before Kirk became captain...and for it's full 5 year journey with the man as well. I'm sure, whatever knowledge and experiences we did manage to...acquire from the brief union... will be quite beneficial," the scientist said, his smile returning in full force.

The others agreed wholeheartedly.

"Any other complications?" the admiral asked.

"Not really...not unless you include her limited founder ability to only change into other humanoids instead of objects as well and a sudden increased liking for battle... probably from the klingon side. Not to mention an upgraded sense of logic...from her vulcan side...a great tendency to find different solutions and not play solely by the rule book... all served together with a healthy dash of paranoia when dealing with certain untrustworthy races... but again all well in acceptable parameters," the scientist answered. He obviously did not find this information to be an issue.

"Not necessarily a bad thing...as long as she can tone it down a bit for the academy," the Commander said in agreement.

"Indeed!" the others agreed in unison.

"Yes...the academy...are we absolutely certain we can keep her involvement with us a secret?" the politician asked a few seconds later.

"I'm certain. I will personally make sure that all traces of her leading to us will be removed from all records. Even our own. The only people who will know about her involvement to us at all will be ourselves, agent Drake and the director. Plus, she will of course be given the full agent training...including the full interrogation cycle resistance training to prepare her for any...mishaps. Rest assured, SF Intelligence will never find out about her connection to us, in the unlikely event that she somehow ere to mess up," the commander answered.

"Hmm... this means I'll have to...eliminate the others in my department won't I," the scientist said, more to himself that to the others.

"That...unfortunate matter we will leave up to you. You know them best after all," the commander answered. "Just make sure 'it' will never leaves the labs," he added, getting a brief nod from the scientist.

"Good...all in all it seems we are ready and while I'm not very happy with the fact that we have to go the long way. That we actually have to send her into the academy and not just give...'her' a ship. I can accept it. Especially considering that we will have to keep an eye on her anyway. Just in case something were to somehow go wrong. I guess it would be foolish to insert her as an officer, especially as a captain, until we are sure that were are no side effects," the admiral said, agreeing with their plan.

"Are we certain she won't go...'native' on us and that she will continue to take orders from us for certain...projects?" the Commander asked, suddenly.

"Oh, I'm sure. I can personally reassure you when I say that she will be very loyal to our cause, or indeed Section 31's cause. Besides of what ever they will teach her at the academy...and whatever morals she may inadvertently pick up along the way, we will never have anything to fear from her. Finally, if all else fails there is always myself. She does, after all, think of me as her father, seeing as I practically raised her, all the way from her test tube. Let's just say I...may also have included a bit of...em...subtle conditioning as well that will... make her more open to doing the 'right' thing from time to time when I use certain code phrases. So yes...believe me when I say that within reason, as long as we use the right words, she is not influenced by other mind techniques and as long as we don't do anything...'stupid' to cause her to distrust us...she will help us and stay loyal to our cause," the scientist answered, a certain glint in his eyes. A glint which made the others a bit nervous. Choosing to ignore it though they soon put it out of their minds.

"Oh well, in that case I guess it will have to do..." the admiral said after a while, still feeling a bit uneasy at what he had just seen and heard.

"Agreed!" the others answered, nodding in agreement.

"One last thing. Once she is placed into the academy I am ordering a no contact rule. Baring a few covert tests from time to time and her own secure personal contact for mission updates and emergencies, I want us to have no contact with her what so ever. The less contact she has with us while at the academy, the better," the admiral ordered.

The others soon agreed. It was, after all, for the best.

"Agreed!" they all said in unison.

"And with that, I think I have heard enough," the politician declared as he started to stand up.

"I am very pleased with the progress you are making... and I'm sure our financial backers will also be pleased too as long as we make this work. For now I'll put in a good word and keep the more aggressive ones of your backs,' The politician said.

"Admiral...make sure Sandra is transferred on time and that there are no complications," he ordered a second later.

"Sandra?" the Captain asked.

"Yes, Sandra Jadzia Ezri de'Sol ... Sandra, meaning 'protector of humanity,'... Jadzia and Ezri, after two of the late symbiont's most recent hosts...and Sol...well...because that's where she was created," the scientist explained.

"I see," the Captain answered, shocked by the hidden true meaning behind what he had just heard and not for the first time he hoped he had done the right thing by going to Section 31 first...rather than to Star Fleet like he had been ordered to do.

"Now!... On to another matter... I hear the Romulans have been complaining about the Alini sector incident again. Seems like they weren't too happy with the loss of their...'secret' base," the politician said, turning the others attention to another matter. He received a few laughs at that comment.

"What's been done to solve this issue..."

For better or worse, the captains actions had changed the future and with it the fate of the galaxy.

While he was sure his choice could hardly result in a worse future than the one he had come from. After all, surely anything would be better than that nightmare reality. Whether this new future would be a good one... remained to be seen.

What was done, was done. A warrior had been born...and with her lay the hopes of a whole galaxy.

The rest...only time would tell.

Indeed...

Only time...would tell!