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Arana - Book 1 - Chapter 10
By Kudara
Disclaimer: Star Trek Voyager and all who sail in her belong to
Paramount/Viacom and no infringement of copyright/trade marks is
intended.
Disclaimer: The Dungeons and Dragons Role-playing System is
owned by Wizards of the Coast and no infringement of
copyright/trademarks is intended. The only thing I would like to
lay claim to is the original D&D character used in this story.
Rating: PG-13.
Feedback: Always welcome, feedback is what encourages me to keep
writing. Please let me know what you like and what you dislike
about the story.
Revision History: 04/15/05
Summary: Night at Fair Haven, Seven’s solution for Arana’s
nightmares.
*****************************************************************
“I guess everyone made it to the Cargo Bay ok?” asked a smiling
Ensign Kim as I approached the trio.
I grinned back at him, “Yes, I believe I met their
expectations.”
Lt. Paris looked speculatively at me, “That spell… it’s still in
effect?”
I noticed Lt. Torres eyeing him with a slight frown after this
statement, so I replied uncertainly, “Yes, it will enhance my
strength for several more hours. Why?”
Lt. Torres looked as if she was about to say something; before
she could, however, Ensign Kim spoke with a disapproving look at
his friend, “I don’t think Arana would be interested in arm
wrestling Liam, Tom.”
I cocked an eyebrow at Lt. Paris, amused. “You wish me to
deceive a holo-character into an arm wrestling contest so you
can win a wager?” While he struggled to come up with an answer,
I though about the situation a little more. I continued, “For
money that will vanish when you exit the holodeck?”
My mouth twitched as I struggled not to laugh at him. I would
normally have frowned on his suggestion, but the fact that the
people and the money involved were not real made the entire
thing more amusing than offensive.
Lt. Torres and Ensign Kim started chuckling at him, and with a
sheepish grin he finally admitted, “Well when you put it like
that…”
He turned went into the Holodeck and we followed. The world we
stepped into had just enough similarities to the towns with
which I was familiar to cause a pang of homesickness. The street
was laid of cobblestone, and the houses and shops that lined it
were made of wood and brick, with hanging wooden signs
announcing their name and purpose.
Just then a man went by, perched on upon a device with two
wheels. At a glance I realized that it moved using the same
mechanical means as a mill.
“What is that? The means of conveyance the goodman is seated
upon?” I asked curiously, looking down the street after the man.
“It’s a bicycle,” answered Lt. Paris after a moment’s
hesitation.
The surprised look on his face when he realized what I was
referring to sharply reminded me of my relative ignorance of
this realm. I nodded, suddenly realizing that the device, while
new and clever seeming to me, was more than likely ancient
technology to them. I though of mentioning that it used the same
mechanics as a mill, but decided to remain quiet as they
undoubtedly already knew that.
“Um… well, Sullivan’s is just down this way,” Lt. Paris said
breaking the moment of uncomfortable silence.
I nodded and fell into step with them, wishing for a moment that
Seven were here instead. I would have felt comfortable talking
about the similarities of the device and a mill with her; and
she, as much as she was able given the Captain’s restrictions,
would have explained the device further to me.
I knew now, given what I had over heard and the assignments that
had been given her, that Seven was considered one of the most
technically competent persons aboard Voyager. Yet she had never
made me feel as if I was stupid when I was unfamiliar with this
realm’s technology. Seven would always pause for a moment, and I
got the impression she was making an internal note that the
subject was unknown to me; then she would answer me as clearly
as she was able. I suspected that by now she had a fairly good
idea from my past questions what I would know and what would be
unfamiliar to me.
We passed several men and women, all of whom greeted Lt. Paris
and Ensign Kim by name, and finally stopped in front of a
building painted in green and yellow. A rocking chair sat on the
small front porch. Above the door was a sign depicting a lion’s
head and harp and announcing that Sullivan’s was a public house,
a term I was familiar with from Faerun. I smiled at this and
followed my companions into the tavern.
It was crowded inside, but we easily found an empty table as
most of the characters in the program seemed to be either
standing by the bar or talking with one another.
“Guinness, Arana?” asked Ensign Kim courteously as we sat down.
I glanced at him confused then saw past his shoulder a sign that
read ‘Guinness extra stout, daily delivery’ behind the bar. I
was quite familiar with the stout style of beer, at least the
Faerun idea of it, but had never heard the term extra stout.
With interest and some trepidation I nodded, “Yes please, Ensign
Kim that would be welcome.”
When he returned with two glasses of the dark brew I thanked him
and then stared for a moment, dismayed when he sat down next to
me. I had hoped that chair would be Seven’s but could think of
no acceptably polite way to ask him to move. I took a sip of the
drink to cover my moment of impoliteness and was pleasantly
surprised at the taste. It was not a smooth stout, being more
hopped than I was used to, but the bitterness combined well with
the heavy dark malt taste.
“Do you like it?” Ensign Kim inquired seriously.
“Yes, it is quite pleasant,” I answered and noted with confusion
that Lt.’s Paris and Torres were watching us with slight, but
definitely amused expressions. Suddenly it dawned on me that
perhaps the invitation had been issued for more Ensign Kim’s
benefit than any strong desire on their part to get to know me.
It also explained the exclusion of Seven: they wanted their
friend to have a chance to court me instead, of me spending most
of the time talking to her.
“So, what’s it like on Faerun?” he asked me brightly, resting
his forearms on the table and leaning forward.
The situation, combined with the extremely general nature of the
question, confused me and I fell into more familiar speech
patterns, “Milord, I am uncertain as to your meaning?”
They all looked at me, surprised, and Ensign Kim said, “Harry,
you can call me just Harry. I… ah… mean how would you usually
spend your day?” He paused and then added, “If you were there I
mean.”
I was suddenly struck by a sense of unreality. He was good
looking, but I doubted I would have been interested in him, even
if I were interested in men. He seemed so young, even though I
knew he was around the same age as Seven.
“Well,” I began hesitantly, “I would rise and say morning
prayers in my room, then join the senior knights to inspect the
knight-trainees. I would practice arms for most of the morning
and break at midday for a meal.”
I went on to explain my typical day as I watched the door,
hoping that Seven would arrive soon as I was now uneasily aware
of the attraction Ensign Kim was feeling toward me. I was
certainly not frightened of him in any way, but I was also not
particularly feeling up to figuring out how to gently dissuade
him. Inwardly berating myself for my lack of discipline, I
forced myself to focus on the conversation, and to determine how
to politely indicate my lack of interest.
“So where do dragons fit into things? No offense, but that
sounds boring. I got the impression your life was a lot more
adventurous than that,” Lt. Torres commented, a speculative look
on her face as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her
arms.
Since I had made it sound pretty boring on purpose, wondering if
perhaps Ensign Kim was enamored more of the idea of a paladin
than he was in me; I was not offended by her question. I did
wish, however, that she had not brought up the discrepancy
between my story in the mess hall and the recital of my daily
activities. I certainly had not misrepresented my life. What I
had told them was entirely accurate for most of the year. I had
just purposefully not mentioned the other part, where I spent
most of my time in the saddle away from the temple and life
frequently was interesting.
I chuckled depreciatingly, “That was seven years ago; I had many
less duties to the church than I do now.” I paused for a moment
as I considered what to say next, then continued, “Life is
certainly more interesting than that occasionally, but you asked
what my life was typically like. I’m certain you could say the
same about your own lives. I’ve heard about a few of the things
you’ve went through over the past six years.”
“Well that’s true,” nodded Lt. Paris as he leaned back in his
chair, “Most of my time on the bridge is pretty boring, with
only a few course corrections to input. Other times though, as
you say, are a lot more interesting.”
“So, what are some of the more interesting parts? Say in the
past year?” asked Lt. Torres with an intent look.
I was mentally reviewing the events of the past twelve months
when I became aware of a change in my environment, and at the
familiar mental presence looked toward the door. When Seven
entered Sullivan’s a few seconds later, I smiled at her both in
welcome and in relief. She looked at me quizzically, returning
the smile for a moment before replacing it with her usual
impassive mask.
I rose as she came toward the table and greeted her, “I trust
you had no difficulties in your work, Milady?” Out of the corner
of my eye I caught the now expected scowl on Lt. Torres’ face
and wondered why exactly she had an issue with the way I
addressed Seven.
Seven took the only chair left, one between Ensign Kim and Lt.
Parris, “The necessary calculations are running, they should be
completed in two hours twenty minutes.”
“Would you like any refreshment, Milady?” I asked still
standing.
“Not at this time, Arana. Thank you,” Seven replied.
I sat down and turned toward Lt. Torres, “A Paladin of Torm
follows the fourfold duties to faith, family, masters, and all
good beings.” I left out the ‘of Faerun’ that was usually added
as I knew it was no longer applicable, Torm obviously meant me
to serve the good beings of this realm as well.
Taking a breath I continued, “And also the Penance of Duty that
Torm instituted after corruption afflicted the church during the
Time of Troubles. Those being: the Debt of Dereliction, by which
we must strive to eliminate the cults of Cyric and Bane and to
work against the efforts of the Zhentarim; the Debt of
Destruction, where we record and attempt to heal zones of dead
and wild magic;, and the Debt of Persecution, in which we are
tasked to aid and respect the churches and followers of all
other goodly religions.”
I took a sip of beer and with a certain level of melancholy
continued, “As I also serve Ilmater, I am tasked with helping
those who are in pain, oppressed or in great need. It is my duty
to seek out and thwart those who server Loviatar.”
I had been staring at the table but now looked up into Lt.
Torres eyes. “Because of my service to both Ilmater and Torm, I
am often chosen for tasks that combine those duties. Six months
ago I exposed a nobleman who was kidnapping children from the
poorer sections of Waterdeep and selling them to the highest
bidder. Some were sold to noblemen with a taste for children;
some were sold to those who in turn profited off the children by
prostituting them.”
Seven had never heard of this particular event, but I had told
her enough of what I was usually called to do that she was not
nearly as shocked as the other three were. “I tell the children
of dragons because those tales are suitable for their ears. But
such happenings are rare; usually I am called to serve in much
grimmer circumstances. My usual duties are not suitable for
tales of entertainment, so I do not speak of them; and I am
certain you would not desire the victim’s pain to be diminished
by such a usage.” I finished feeling all of my weariness
descending upon me.
Lt. Torres stared at me shocked, “Kathless!… Sorry, but Faerun
sounds like a horrible place to live.”
I was surprised by her response, until I realized what she had
heard of my home. “Pardon, Lt. Torres. I did not mean for it to
seem so, for that would be a falsehood. Most people live out
their lives without being touched by evil. It is only because I
seek out evil that I come into such frequent contact with it.”
I considered what I could tell then of Faerun to show my home
world in a more fair light. Searching through my memories for
tales which would show the goodness of the folk of Faerun, I
realized that they usually went hand in hand with times that
were less than lighthearted. Yet they were the ones that
symbolized most to me why I continued to struggle with all my
strength against those that would destroy it.
“Three years ago the spring rains were unusually plentiful
causing floods and mudslides. I along with several of my fellow
knights traveled through deep mud to reach one village which had
been particularly hard hit. We carried with us what food
supplies and blankets we could on the pack horses, and all of us
had the gift of healing in one form or another. When we arrived
it was clear that though we and the supplies which we had
brought were very welcome, our aid was not desperately needed.”
I smiled somewhat ruefully as I related this.
“When we rode into the town I was stuck by the pervading sense
of determination that existed among them. Everywhere I looked
were village folk helping one another with tasks simple and
complex. We lent our skills and the strength of our backs and of
our hands to healing those that were injured and setting up
shelter for those whose homes had been destroyed by the waters.”
“I had the last watch of the night, when darkness gives way to
light. The dawning of that day was still, and the weather which
had been clouded throughout the night was starting to clear, the
clouds tattering against the sky. When the east began to glow
with light and send banners of color across the sky, the village
gathered. A lone young man stepped before them and faced the
east and, with a voice that was marvelously clear and bell–like,
began the Hymn for Renewal to Lathander the Morninglord.”
On that morning, moved by a sense of rightness to the scene, I
had joined the young man and lifted my voice in prayer for the
village’s renewal as well. Now I rose to my feet and closing my
eyes to concentrate began the Hymn putting my heart and soul
into the words of comfort, hope and faith that the dawn would
bring new beginnings. When I finished I opened my eyes and
looked at my audience.
Surprise was present on all four faces. Seven glanced at me
questioningly, as if to ask whether or not the song was merely a
retelling of the past or a prayer for myself. She must have read
some acknowledgement in my gaze, for her glance changed from a
question to muted concern.
“Bravo… where did you learn to sing like that?” asked Lt. Paris
in an openly appreciative tone.
“That was really good,” added Ensign Kim right after him
admiringly.
Lt. Torres added her agreement and they all looked at me
expectantly. The raised questioning metallic brow from and
otherwise quiet Seven let me know she was curious as well.
“It is not unusual for squires to be asked if they have any
musical gifts to offer for an evening’s entertainment. One of
the priests heard me singing and insisted that I receive voice
training. Since then music has been somewhat of a hobby for me;
I do not have anywhere near the quality of voice of a trained
bard but it serves well enough for common use.” I replied.
“Common? Your voice is hardly common,” remarked Lt. Paris.
“Do you play anything?” asked Ensign Kim.
“I have had some training on playing the flute,” I admitted. “I
began while I was a squire and then when I visited Aglarond six
years ago searching to see if I had any surviving family I
trained for a few months at the bard school there.”
“Did you find anyone?” asked Lt. Torres somberly.
“I did find some information, but no surviving relatives. I
found that my father’s mother was named Marana, perhaps my name
was taken partly from hers. She was half-elven. No one knew who
the sire of my father was, and she apparently refused to name
him. I found out that she died before my father and mother
married,” I answered her and she nodded.
“What does a Faerun flute look like?” asked Lt. Paris eagerly.
Using my hands to show the dimensions I described the length,
the placement of the finger holes and mouth piece and the woods
usually used to construct them.
Then nothing would do but that we all proceed next door to the
holodeck research lab so that Lt. Paris and Ensign Kim could
recreate it. For my part I was fascinated with watching the
flute materialize and dematerialize as I made changes to their
initial idea. Finally it at least looked correct, being of
simple design with the mouth hole placed on the side and two
groupings of three holes and then two holes at the end of its
length.
I had learned on the standard Faerun flute, but after my
training in Aglorond I had taken up the elven longhorn flute
which was longer by several inches. This added to the depth of
the tone the instrument was able to produce. Finally it was
ready for me to try and with a bemused smile I reached out and
grasped the flute which was hanging in mid air.
I tested the weight of it in one hand and suspected it was
perhaps slightly lighter than it should be. Lifting it to my
lips I placed my fingers over the holes and gently blew into the
mouth hole. The resulting sound was not displeasing but it was
not what I expected.
“The tone is not what you desired?” asked Seven.
“No, Milady. It is higher in pitch by an octave and the tone is
sharper than it should be. The instrument also feels rather
lighter than what I am used to.” I answered looking over the
flute carefully.
“The density of the material can be adjusted. Computer adjust
flute properties to play in next lower octave range,” Seven
ordered. When the “Modification complete,” came back she
continued after looking at the console, “Change material of
flute to blackwood.”
Ensign Kim said approvingly, “That should soften the tone.”
When I next picked up the instrument I nodded approvingly at its
weight. This time when I blew into it the tone was much improved
and I smiled warmly at Seven.
Her lips curled up in a slight smile in return before she asked,
“The pitch and tone are correct now?”
Before answering her I played a short section of melody,
listening closely as I did so. After a few minutes I paused
satisfied, “Yes, Milady, they are.”
“May I?” asked Ensign Kim looking eagerly at the flute.
“Certainly Ensign,” I replied and handed it to him. He and Lt.
Paris fell to discussing the differences between it and an Irish
flute and with their attention off me I realized suddenly how
bone tired I was. Things were starting to feel distant, as if
they were not quite real. The surge of energy I had gotten that
had allowed me to discuss the nature of my feelings for Seven
and be willing to investigate the holodeck had disappeared.
“I believe it is time Arana slept,” I heard Seven say and I
looked up at her from where I had been absently gazing at the
hologrid walls in a waking doze.
“She’s not one of the children, Seven” Lt. Torres replied in an
irritated tone.
I was torn between the dictates of politeness and the desire to
agree with Seven, it was after all the truth, I did need to
sleep.
Seven raised one brow and said in a dry tone, “I am aware of
that Lt. Torres. I am also aware of the fact that she was
fatigued during her study session this morning.”
“Hey, if you’re tired just let us know,” said Ensign Kim,
concern apparent in his tone.
I met Seven’s eyes and realized how concerned she was for me. “I
am fatigued,” I admitted.
“You know if your having trouble sleeping you should probably
have the Doctor look you over, make sure there isn’t a physical
reason for it.” commented Lt. Paris frowning slightly at me.
“I have already given my assurances to Lady Seven that I will do
so if it continues Lt. Paris,” I replied mildly trying to hide
my discomfiture at the thought.
His eyes widened in incredulity. From behind me I heard a snort
and then Lt. Torres said in a sarcastic tone, “Lady Seven?”
I stiffened at the discourtesy but before I could reply Seven
said calmly, “Champion Arana addresses me in the manner in which
she feels most comfortable, in accordance with the customs of
her people.”
Lt. Paris’s eyes flickered between where Seven was standing and
where Lt. Torres was standing then returned to me in the silence
that followed, “Is that the case? You would feel more
comfortable calling me by Lt. Paris rather than Tom.” he asked
with what I suspected was a cautious phasing.
“I mean no disrespect to your customs Lt. Paris, nor would I be
spurning the offer of friendship I know you mean by offering the
use of it. But I would be more comfortable using your rank than
your birth name given the newness of our acquaintance.” I
admitted.
The three officers looked equally uncertain how to reply to my
statement until Lt. Torres blurted out “Do you call anyone by
their first name?” in a disbelieving tone.
I turned toward her noting the crossed arm defensiveness of her
posture, before replying politely. “Three Lt. Torres, the Senior
Priest of Ilmater, Father Tormlin who rescued me from slavery,
Champion Kurn one of my fellow Knights at Waterdeep and the Lady
Alessea.”
“Oh,” Lt. Torres suddenly appeared much less certain of herself.
“So first names are used only between close friends on Faerun?”
asked Ensign Kim.
I frowned slightly trying to figure out how to answer him
honestly, “Perhaps more so among the Knights of Torm, Tyr and
Helm who frequently serve or interact with the upper Nobility,
than among some of the other Knightly Orders. It is a matter of
degree of formality, and my order is one of the most formal in
their manner of speech and action. The use of first names is
not… encouraged unless between as you say, close friends or
family, Ensign Kim.”
He said sincerely, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable
earlier by insisting you use my first name. Please just call me
Ensign Kim for now.”
“So umm,” I heard Lt. Paris say. I turned to him and looked
inquisitively at who he was suddenly struggling with what I
could clearly sense was amusement, “If things normally are done
so formally, and you actually prefer that, I assume that if
someone wanted to get to know you they would have to ask the
Captain first?”
“If they sought my hand in marriage? Yes of course, anything
else would be highly improper.” I replied sternly suddenly
understanding his amusement.
“Marriage?” the strangled sounding question came from Ensign
Kim.
I frowned at him, “Ensign Kim, in Faerun suggesting that a woman
would accept any other type of relationship with a man but
marriage would be a grave insult to her honor. I trust that you
did not mean to insult mine?”
Ensign Kim obviously retreating to firmer ground replied, “No,
no, of course not.”
Even though he was obviously teasing Ensign Kim, I silently
thanked Lt. Paris for his comment. Suddenly Ensign Kim didn’t
look quite so eager to get to know me.
“I believe it is time to ‘call it a night’” said Seven.
“Of course, Milady,” I agreed with alacrity turning toward her.
She was looking rather thoughtfully at Ensign Kim but at my
motion returned her attention to me.
This time no one objected to our leaving and I heard Lt. Paris
comment before the door shut behind us, “Well Harry, you sure
know how to pick em.”
“Deck 7” Seven said as we entered the turbo lift and I glanced
at her curiously, “Milady I am not escorting you to the Cargo
Bay?”
“No, I have researched the problem you are having and believe I
have a solution. If I complete my work in your quarters while
you are sleeping I believe with your empathic awareness of my
presence I will disrupt your dreaming.” she answered. I frowned
trying to understand her meaning, “I will not ‘fit’ into the
dream.” Seven clarified.
While I was struggling with trying to determine whether it would
be proper for her to do so, given my declaration of interest,
Seven continued in a softer tone, “I wish to assist you Arana, I
am concerned that you will damage yourself if this continues.”
“As you wish, Milady,” I found myself answering, unable to deny
her.
When we entered my quarters I excused myself and went to the
bathing room while she brought up the information she needed to
analyze at my computer terminal.
When I finished my absolutions I entered the main room again and
prepared to go to bed.
Seven glanced up from her work and raised a brow at the shirt
and breeches I was wearing, “You do not wear specific sleeping
attire?’
“No, Milady. This is what I am accustomed to.” I answered.
Seven nodded then with a softer look, “Good night, Arana.”
“Good night, Milady.” I hesitated, “Thank you.”
Seven nodded then ordered the lights down and turned back to her
work.
In the darkness the screen of the console lit her face softly
and I allowed myself to admire her openly, tracing with my eyes
the outline of her profile. She stared intently at the screen a
slight frown of concentration upon her face as she tapped upon
the keys, manipulating the data I guessed. Her presence in the
room was almost palatable to me, and I eventually drifted off
feeling warmed and comforted by it.
Through the ringing in my ears I heard my master Lord Druss say,
“Stupid slave, I don’t know why you fight me. I’ll always win.”
as he grabbed my mouth and forced the drug down my throat.
Within a few minutes things took on an unreal quality and I felt
the drug sapping the strength to fight from me.
He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me to my feet and then over
to the bed where he forced me to bend over. The air hitting my
back side told me he had lifted my skirt and I tried to find the
strength to fight him, pleading with him to stop. Even as I did
so I despised myself for my pleading. He enjoyed it when I
pleaded with him, and knew I would not without the effect of the
drug, which was of course why he used it.
But something this time was different, there was someone here,
Lord Druss faded away and I felt calmer. It seemed as if I heard
my name and I murmured, “Seven?” and reached for her. In the
nether world between waking and dreaming I felt her hand clasp
mine and pulled it to my chest and wrapped myself around it
knowing that she would protect me and slipped back into sleep.
*****************************
Seven had been absorbed in analyzing the day’s astrometrics data
when she realized that Arana was experiencing a nightmare. Seven
clearly heard, “No, I don’t want to take it.” and looked over in
concern. When Arana had begun pleading in a voice that sounded
much younger with some Lord Druss not to touch her Seven had
come over to wake her.
“Seven” Arana had murmured her name and reached out toward her.
No Milady, no Lady Seven. Just Seven.
Seven grasped Arana’s hand with her left one almost absently as
she was still trying to analyze the feelings that had just swept
through her at Arana’s use of her name. Then she stared bemused
as Arana pulled her hand to her chest, nestling it against the
skin above her heart. Seven waited for Arana to let her hand go
but apparently Arana had fallen back asleep and showed no signs
that she was willing to let Seven have her hand back.
Seven sighed inaudibly and shifted to a more comfortable
position; her internal chronometer told her it was only two
hours until the time for which Arana had told the computer to
awaken her. She attempted to continue her analysis from memory
but found herself distracted by various sensory inputs. The feel
of Arana’s heart beating against the exoskeleton of her left
hand, the fact that Arana’s skin was even paler than her own,
how in sleep Arana appeared so much more vulnerable than during
the day.
Finally giving up the effort to continue her work she
concentrated upon the last, studying Arana’s face intently. In
public Arana always appeared strong and confident, compassionate
and kind, but with a certain sternness that Seven knew most of
those who had met her found intimidating. To Seven and the
children she showed a gentler side, one that was exceptionally
forgiving and supportive.
It was often too easy to forget that only a week ago she had
been near death. Sometimes Seven felt she was the only one who
remembered exactly how damaged Arana had been. Now examining
Arana’s face in the dimness of the room Seven found herself
noting the length of Arana’s eyelashes, the curve of her ear as
it arched upward toward it’s tip, the planes and lines of her
face. Relaxed now in sleep Arana’s face was softer and there was
a subtle look of vulnerability and sorrow there.
Dropping her gaze to her hand where Arana held it tightly Seven
was suddenly fiercely glad that that it was she that Arana let
see this part of her. The part that wasn’t always strong, wasn’t
always confident, the part that needed someone to help her, to
keep away the dreams.
As the time passed Seven watched Arana sleep and hoped that in
the morning that the golden flecks, which Seven had noted with
anxiety had been decreasing as she became more and more
fatigued, would be back.
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