�
"CAPTAIN GALLANT "
By J.Hallmark (arabian@ite.net)


     The ship was rocked gently by the waves rolling about its hull.  Dead and injured bodies lay strewn across the sun-swept deck.  Captain Thomas Eugene Paris or "Captain Gallant" as he preferred to be called, held his sword aloft, the wind rippling through his dark blonde hair.  The sun glinted off of his white shirt, gaping wide at the neck, leaving an inordinate amount of chest exposed (for the ladies). 
	The strains of Beethoven's "Symphony No.5 - Allegro Con Brio," (duh, na, na, , NUH, duh, na, na, NUH ...) wafted throughout the recycled air.  Pari - oops, Captain Gallant paused for a moment and lowered his sword, adjusting the red sash tied about his waist.  When the scarlet ends fell at just the right length over his tight trousers, (contrasting nicely with the black material) he once again resumed his manly pose.
	Suddenly, a bloodthirsty cry split the air as a butt-ugly pirate, missing a leg, an eye and most of his teeth, charged across the deck, heading towards the damsel in distress cowering against the railing --- hold that.  Suddenly, a bloodthirsty cry split the air as a butt-ugly pirate, missing a leg, an eye and most of his teeth, charged across the deck, heading towards the damsel in distress disinterestedly leaning against the railing.
	"Computer, freeze program," Captain Gallant barked.  The bloodthirsty pirate, whose looks might have caused many a kitten to cower in fear, paused mid-charge.  
	"B'Elanna!"  Tom Paris, aka Captain Gallant, cried, once again dropping the pose that he had spent 10 minutes practicing in front of the mirror.  "Come on, you're supposed to be a damsel in distress."  
	B'Elanna Torres, aka the Damsel in Distress, looked over at her beloved and stifled a yawn.  "Tom, this is the last time you trick me into one of your stupid bets.  This is ridiculous.  Ludicrous.  Boring."
	She shook her head and rolled her eyes.  "I've just spent the last 10 minutes watching you run around hacking and slaughtering a group of holographic pirates.  You may be having a ball, but I'm bored out of mind."
	Tom sheathed his sword and stomped towards her, quite miffed that she was ruining his perfectly wonderful pirate fantasy.   It had taken him weeks to assemble every aspect of this particular program, and everything had been going swimmingly (except for the fact that B'Elanna hadn't screamed once when his pirates attacked) until this.  He threw his hands up in the air and halted before her, thoroughly exasperated.
	"You're not supposed to be bored.  You're supposed to be terrified.   You're supposed to interact with the program."  B'Elanna leaned back a little as Tom got closer and his voice got louder.  "You're SUPPOSED to be scared out of your wits, because a group of plundering, ravishing, looting PIRATES just boarded your nice comfortable journey and have just made mincemeat out of everyone on BOARD THIS SHIP!!!"
	B'Elanna sighed, crossing her arms across her chest.  She sighed again as her bare arms came into contact with the stupid dress Tom had replicated for her,  "just for this program."
	It was all girly and feminine and soft and felt wonderfully cool and sensuous against her skin.  Not that it mattered, she thought almost defensively.  It was white.  She never wore white.  Tom knew that.  But it was white.  And it had lace and a tight bodice, very tight.  She had a sneaking suspicion that he had deliberately made the dress a size too small.
	It was nice, she supposed, if you went for this sort of thing.  The dress fell in sweeping, unconfined lines straight from the bodice.  A ridiculous ribbon, pink of all colors, was threaded beneath it and the ends brushed across the soft material.  It was the most preposterous outfit that she had ever worn.  And no, it did not matter that when Tom first saw her in it, his eyes had glowed all soft and warm, and that she in turn, had glowed all soft and warm.
	He could be so irritating sometimes and just arouse the most irritating feelings within her.  She sighed again.  Tom continued to stand before her, silently seething.  His eyes (she noted) were no longer soft and warm, despite the dress.  
	"What am I supposed to do?"  Resignation laced her voice, as she mused upon the things she did for love.   She unfolded her arms and clasped them behind her back.  It would give her a few extra seconds to rethink the action if she decided to hit him.
	At her words, Tom's dour expression disappeared and his eyes lit up like a little boy.  She could only respond with a smile.  *Sigh*  Tom clapped his hands together, all excited again.
	"Okay, when the pirate comes after you, I --"
	"-- Which one?"  B'Elanna interrupted.
	"Huh?"  Tom asked, a twinge of the excitement leaving his voice.  She had to be difficult, didn't she?
	"Which pirate, Paris?" she questioned between clenched teeth.  "There are only about 15 running around."  She smiled sweetly, it was as false as saccharine, but she didn't care.  He was definitely moving beyond irritating.
	"The butt-ugly one charging towards you with the missing leg and eye.  He's also missing most of his teeth."  He smiled, unintentionally showing off his own charming smile, all teeth intact.
	"I suppose you're proud of that little detail."  It wasn't a question.
	He frowned, let it pass and went on with the scenario.  "So, the butt-ugly pirate comes after you.  You cower in fear --" A skunk eye, worthy of their inestimable captain stopped him for a moment, but only a moment.  He went on.    
	"So, you cower in fear, then when the pirate gets to you, he's gonna grab you by the arms and then you scream and ..."  He trailed off at the calm, left to right sway of B'Elanna's head.
	"Think again, helmboy.  I am not cowering and I am not screaming.  I could take that guy in a nanosecond.  Two hits.  I hit him, he hits the floor."  Her saccharine smile returned.  Tom resisted the urge to growl in frustration.  She would only laugh at him.
	"B'Elanna, darlin', honey, love of my li --"
	"Is this supposed to be helping?"
	"B'Elanna, I have always wanted to do a pirate fantasy like this."  He was whining.  He knew it.  He didn't care, she always, *always* fell for the little boy act.  Well, usually she did.  But this time ... she didn't soften, her eyes remained militant and determined.  Her foot continued tapping (unconsciously to the "Duh nun NUH" beat). Her arms remained folded across her chest. He decided to change strategy.
	"Besides, you lost the bet, so honorably you would have to participate in the program as is."  She growled dangerously.  Okay, original strategy with a little more sincerity.  He smiled his most disarming smile.
	"BElanna, I really have wanted to do this forever and, okay, maybe you weren't the damsel in distress I had in mind when I was 13 years old but I couldn't imagine any other damsel in your place now." He paused, and once again treated her to his charming smile, "Please."  He all but fluttered his eyelashes.
	She narrowed her eyes.  He was so transparent it was almost laughable.  She shook her head slightly again, the things I do for love.
	"Okay, fine, I cower and scream in fear, then what?"
	Tom smiled.  Gotcha!, he thought.  "Okay, then I hear the commotion and being the leader, I claim first dibs."  He smiled conspiratorially.
	'First dibs to what?  Kill me, throw me overboard, make me walk the plank?"  She asked dryly and with a singular lack of interest.  Tom leaned over and rested one hand against the railing.  He was silent for a few beats, his eyes meeting hers, a promise entirely unrelated to pirates, more along the lines of fantasy, blatant in their depths.
	His voice dropped a decibel or two, slow and drawling.  "Ravish you."  B'Elanna suddenly found it very hot, despite the wind blowing across them.  She bit her lower lip, and felt flames engulf her face, flooding her entire body.  She cleared her throat, but for some reason, still found it difficult to speak.  She plunged ahead anyway.
	"Ra -- ravish?"  She licked her lips, the corner tilted upward in a swift, excited smile.  "You're going to ravish me?"
	Tom nodded his head.  "Slowly, I'm gonna take my time.  Could take hours."
	"We only have the holodeck scheduled for," she paused and with a visible force of effort, broke eye contact.  "Computer, time remaining?" 
	The sterile voice of "Voyager's" computer responded, "47 minutes and 13 seconds."
	"We only have 47 minutes and 13 seconds remaining."  B'Elanna just about whispered breathlessly.  She cleared her throat again, once again meeting his gaze.
	Tom smiled, a practiced Romeo's smile, but one that belonged only to her now.  "I think we may be down to about 46 minutes now.  But trust me, I can make it seem like hours."
	She raised her brows, the ridges of her forehead crinkling somewhat.  "Is that good?  Or is the whole hour going to bore me to tears?"
	The Romeo smile broke for a second, as genuine humor interrupted.  "I didn't exactly mean it that way."  He sighed and dropped his arm.  "You know, you're the only one that does this.  Do you realize that?"  He asked, once again speaking in his normal voice.  Romeo, and Captain Gallant for that matter, were gone.  He looked away with slight vexation.
	B'Elanna smiled, still a bit hot, and still a lot turned on, but filled with an indescribable joy that wasn't there seconds before.  "Yes.  But you know what, Tom?"  She slid one finger under his chin, forcing his face back to hers.  Locking his eyes back onto hers.
	"I like this better.  I don't need the smooth lines, the sexy voice, the sensual air.  It's nice and it does wonders for my circulation," she smiled gently as his eyes softened.  "But, I prefer the real you, not the act.  I always have."  She paused to trace her finger across his jaw, one of her favorite parts of his anatomy.  "Okay?"
	He smiled.  "Okay."
	She pulled back and stepped to the side leaning against the masthead.  "So you save me from the ugly pirate only to take me for yourself?  Right?"
	"Right."  He readjusted his sash, and removed his sword, shifting it between both hands to reacustom himself to its weight.
	"So where does the ravishment take place?"  She asked, biting her bottom lip to keep from giggling.  Only Tom could make her want to giggle even while her body ached for his touch.  
	"You'll just have to wait and see, my pretty."  He grinned wickedly and loped across the deck, once again resuming his manly pose.  B'Elanna headed back towards the railing, inquiring sweetly (saccharinely), "How long did you practice that pose, Tom?"
	He shot a grin in her direction, "about 10 minutes.   Come on, let's get this thing rolling, we don't have much more time.  Computer resume."
	Suddenly, a bloodthirsty cry split the air as a butt-ugly pirate, missing a leg, an eye and most of his teeth, charged across the deck, heading towards the damsel in distress cowering against the railing.
	B'Elanna let forth a blood-curling scream.  Tom dropped the sword and jumped about half a foot in the air.  
	"B'ELANNA!!!"
	B'Elanna turned to him, her eyes wide.  "What?"
	"Computer, halt program."  He turned to look at her.  "Would you mind screaming a *little* less enthusiastically?"  He smiled his own saccharine smile.
	B'Elanna cocked her head to the side, just the *slightest* bit of irritation showing on her lovely face.  "I thought you wanted me to get into the program.  Well, I am."  She sent back some saccharine.
	"I did, but I didn't want you to make me deaf in the process, dear.  Okay?"  He turned away, shook his head slightly.   He took a deep breath, and retrieved the sword from the deck.  "Computer resume."
	B'Elanna let forth a less enthusiastic blood-curdling scream.  Tom winced and managed to keep hold of the sword this time.  The butt-ugly pirate reached out and grabbed B'Elanna by the arms, she struggled half-heartedly.  If she really tried, it would be two hits.
	Captain Gallant ran over and threw the pirate overboard with the greatest of ease.  B'Elanna stopped her cowering, and for a moment the look of terror fled from her face to be replaced with a quirk of a brow and a slightly disbelieving look in her eyes.  
	"Smooth, Captain Gallant."  She said mockingly.  He narrowed his eyes and with a melodramatic sigh she once again assumed her Damsel in Distress pose.  Tom wrapped one arm around her waist and pulled her tightly against him.   B'Elanna felt the silliest of flutterings within her stomach.  Privately she called them "Tom's Butterflies."
	She pushed her hands feebly against his chest, leaning as far back as she could.
He dropped the sword with a clang and placed his other arm around her, his palm pressing into the small of her back.  B'Elanna was now pressed full against him and the heat was more intense than ever despite the cool breeze.  A steady pulse beat in the base of her throat.  Her lips felt incredibly dry.  His looked incredibly moist.
	Apparently he agreed.  With one swooping gesture, his head descended and he captured her mouth.  She felt all of the breath go out of her, feeling faint and weak, but gloriously alive as his lips plundered hers.  No breath passed between them.  Her hands moved from his chest, up around his neck, her fingers entwining in the curls at the nape of his neck.
	When lack of oxygen made the kiss impossible to continue, he pulled away.  They stared into each others eyes, breathing heavily, identical thoughts racing through their minds.  It had been two months already, but every time, every touch, every kiss left them feeling as if a tornado, a tidal wave, an earthquake, pick your natural disaster of choice, had swept over them, into them, through them.  Every time.  It was heaven.
	He smiled rakishly.  (He'd practiced that for only 2 minutes.)  She tried to catch her breath.  He suddenly let her go, swooping her into his arms, cradling her like a child in his embrace.  She wrapped a limp arm around his shoulders and smiled.  I love this man so much, she thought contentedly, her free hand resting against his chest.
	"Now, the ravishment?"  She softly asked.  Soft, in that voice she only used with him.  He smiled again, a tender smile, natural, real, the wistful, sweet boy's smile.  "Now."
And with those words he headed towards the stairs leading to the cabins below.  
	And promptly tripped over the sword.  When he'd dropped the sword, he hadn't been aware of where it fell.  He was now.  B'Elanna clutched his neck, her arms clinging to him in an attempt to avoid hitting the deck.  Tom, bearing the weight of B'Elanna and himself, couldn't hold onto his balance.  Captain Gallant and his Damsel in Distress landed on the wooden deck with a loud thump.  Followed quickly by a smack and a loud "oww!"
	Tom rubbed at his arm as he looked up at a glowering B'Elanna Torres sprawled ungracefully across his legs.  "I didn't do it on purpose," he whined.  He got to his feet and extended a hand to her.  Glaring at him, she accepted, wiping the bottom of her dress as she stood up.  Once she was steady on her feet, she pulled her hand away.
	"Computer, end --"  She began.
	"B'Elanna, come'on."  He smiled softly, reaching out a hand and lightly caressing her cheek.  "It was an accident, let's just take up from where we --" a slight growl began in the back of her throat.  "Let's just walk down the stairs together?  Okay?"  He held an arm out in the direction of the short staircase.
	B'Elanna looked at him for a moment longer.  She sighed, then turned away and headed down below.  Tom clenched his fists tightly for a moment in brief victory.  "Yes."  He hissed under his breath.
*	*	*
	The main cabin was small, containing a medium-sized bed, a table with a mirror and two trunks.  A small porthole above the bed glinted with sunburst.  B'Elanna turned slowly in a circle, surveying the room.  She stepped back quickly as Tom opened the door.
	He stood for a moment in the doorway and then eased in, softly shutting the door behind him.  Suddenly the strains of Beethoven's 5th ended abruptly and a jazzy saxophone rift filled the room.  B'Elanna rolled her eyes.  She looked away from him and then to the bed, encased in red satin.  She looked back at Tom, smiling.
	"What now?"  Her arms were behind her back, her fingers hovering, ready to pull the zipper down at the back of her dress.  Tom shook his head back and forth, once more in "pirate fantasy" mode.  "Nononononono, that's my job."  He took a step towards her, predatory, promising.  B'Elanna's arms dropped to her side.
	"Shall I scream again?" She smiled.
	"No."  Tom answered promptly.  "Just widen your eyes a bit, back against the bed, you can fight a little when I rip your dress off."  He grinned salaciously.
	B'Elanna's smile died.  "You're going to rip the dress off?"
	His grin died.  "Ye-es."  He said hesitantly.
	"No," she responded in swift denial.
	"Yes,"  he said more firmly.  "I'm going to ravish you, it's not like you would willingly take your dress off.  And if I were to nicely take it off, you would run away and I would have to chase you and we don't have time for that.  So, yes, I'm going to rip your dress off."  He stepped towards her, satisfied that she understood.
	She did not understand, so she did not widen her eyes a bit.  She did not back against the bed.  She did not allow him to rip her dress off.  She stood perfectly still, a determined expression on her face.
	"Tom, stop right there.  You are not ripping this dress." She squared her shoulders, ignoring the appreciation in Tom's suddenly lowered gaze.  He looked back up at her face.
	"But you don't even like the dress.  Why do you care if I rip it off?"  He reasoned.
He took another step towards her.
	"Tom, I said stop.  You are not ripping this dress.  It's my dress.  You gave it to me, and I don't want it ruined.  Now, I'll take it off and we'll play your little game.  But you're not ripping it."  She once again reached behind her back.
	Tom stepped anxiously towards her, his hand held out.  "No."  She paused, her arms halted mid-air.  "You are not going to take it off.  I gotta rip it off.  You're ruining the program."  He was whining again, and this time he wasn't even aware of it.
	B'Elanna lowered her arms again, sighing.  Again.  "Okay, I don't imagine that I am supposed to play the unwilling damsel in distress for long, right?"
	He nodded.
	"I suppose I am supposed to get all hot and bothered by your attentions and ignore the fact that you just slaughtered everyone on board and beg you to ravish me.  Correct?"
	He nodded again.
	"So, why don't you come over here and kiss me and set my senses reeling so that I can beg you to ravish me *before* you rip the dress.  That way, you can nicely take it off and I'll already be willing so you won't have to chase me when I try to run away."  
	He started to nod again, stopped, thought and then nodded.  "Okay, that works."
	He waited for the music to hit a certain note.  B'Elanna tapped her foot impatiently.  His head bobbed along with the music.  B'Elanna stifled another yawn.  The note hit, Captain Gallant was on.  B'Elanna straightened up.  She widened her eyes a bit, began to back towards the bed.  Tom began to walk, slowly, sensuously.  She felt the softness of the bed against the back of her legs.  She stopped.
	Tom took a few steps more and then stood before her.  He looked down into her eyes. He ran a finger against her cheek, trailed down her throat, more fingers joined the dance, lightly, barely brushing against the white bodice of her dress.  Softly, gently all five fingers began caressing her breast encased in the muslin material.  Her breath caught.  A kiss wasn't necessary.
	Her senses were already reeling.	
	She was definitely willing.  
	She leaned against him, a slight sigh escaping from her.  She bit her lip, pressing herself against him.  His fingers spread out, his hand cupping the fullness of her breast.  She exhaled harshly.   Her lips found the hollow of his throat, she breathed in his scent, his arousal, her own need filling her senses.  Her tongue flicked out, tasting the salty tang of his skin.
	His arms moved around her waist.  She whimpered softly as the weight, the heat of his hand left her breast.  He pulled her tightly against him, their sensitized tips bringing a moan from her lips.  She raised her head, looking up at him. He captured her mouth, softly, gently.  Just the barest touch, the sweetest theft.  Her lips parted.  She reached up for him, kissing him, molding herself against his body.  Forsaking the bareness, the sweetness, she plundered.  She ravished.
	He held himself back, ignoring her urgency.  Ignoring her hands restlessly clasping against his shoulders, her nails digging through the white linen of his shirt.  Every time she tried to deepen the kiss, he pulled away.  Every time she tried to lower his head, force him to her, he pulled away.
	Smiling.
	B'Elanna's eyes were soft and misty, laden with passion.  She looked at him, "please," she whispered softly.  He bent his head again, intending another slow assault.  Just a taste, just a little dip.  B'Elanna tightened her arms around his neck and pulled him roughly to the bed with her, her mouth devouring his, her tongue eagerly seeking and gaining entry.  Denying him his torture.  He capitulated.
	The rending of his shirt split the air.  Tom pulled away, rising himself from her quickly.  Her hands reached out to pull him back before she realized what he was doing ... ripping the rest of the shirt off of his chest.  His eyes were dark and now filled with an urgency equal to her own.
	As he bent back down to her, his hands lifted the hem of her dress, his fingers stroking the smooth skin of her legs, moving upwards relentlessly, meeting the juncture between her thighs.
	B'Elanna jerked him down towards her as he pushed her up higher onto the bed, the virginal whiteness of her dress in contrast with the red sheets, in contrast with the lust raging through their bodies.
	Their lips met once again.  Their breath escaping in gasps, his hands, his fingers exploring her sensitive flesh.  Her hands roaming over his body, untying the sash, pulling at the waistband of his trousers, she felt his erection pulsating against her.
	He broke from their kiss, a moan rushing forth from him as her fingers curled around him.  One of his hands moved out from under her dress, framing her face.  Sweat licked his face, sweat beaded hers.  He bent his head again, delivering a quick kiss.  She lunged up after his lips, but they were occupied, tracing the slight ridges on her forehead, the curve of her cheekbone, the line of her nose.
	His fingers delved into her hair.  His fingers delved into her.  She jerked against his body, a cry leaving her lips, her fingers tightening about him.  "Now!" she demanded as his lips trailed down her throat, his fingers following.  Using his unoccupied hand he pushed the dress off at each shoulder, his mouth leaving a hot, moist path down her throat, upon her breasts visible above the white material.
	With a moan of frustration he ripped the material down the center, his lips hungrily fastening upon one erect nipple.  His hand framed her other breast, as her voice growled in his ear, "now, now, now, now, please, now, now."
	Her body strained against his, her hand pumped up and down.  She stretched out one arm, her fingers grasping against the red satin slipping between them, her fingers searching for his taste in her mouth, her fingers pulling at his hair, pulling hard.  He looked up with a small cry, his eyes wide and wild.  
	"B'Elanna," he breathlessly whispered.  Her hand released him as she lunged for his face, both hands framing him, her teeth unerringly finding his jaw, the specific area already sensitive from the countless skin regenerations provided by a disapproving medical hologram.
	His eyes closed, clenched for a second as her teeth sank into his flesh.  His jaw tightened for a moment, blood trickling down his neck.  "Now!" she growled with an compulsion he could not ignore.
	His hands moved to the white material bunched up upon her upper thighs, his fingers tightening, pressing into her.  He positioned himself above her, his fingers deftly opening the folds of her flesh.  
	He was inside her, moving within her as her teeth bit into his shoulders drawing blood.  Her lips pressed against his jaw, savoring his scent, his taste.  Her arms tightened about his shoulders, her nails tearing into his flesh.  Her mouth pressed against his jaw, his throat, his shoulders, biting, nipping.  In and out he thrust and with each thrust, tiny indentations of her teeth marked his fair skin.  
	She was stretched taut upon the bed, her nails leaving long, furious streaks of red against his back.  Droplets of blood beaded his shoulders, smeared upon his jaw, a thin line diluted with sweat running down his throat.  
	He bent his head towards her, his lips finding her hair.  Feeling his breath upon her, she looked up, their eyes meeting, their lips meeting.  An orgy of lips and tongue and teeth, his body lay heavily upon hers, pounding her into the deep mattress.  His mouth taking in her breath, breathing out with each thrust in and out, building a torrent of need and desire and heaven and ecstasy.  
	She threw her head back, his eyes closed, his face looking up.  She rested against the curve between his shoulder and throat, her teeth grazing the bite marks as she clung to him, moans and cries escaping in whimpers and soft growls from her throat.
With a one final thrust the room exploded around him, she bit hard into his shoulder, her muffled cry blending in with his hoarse shout.	
	Tom fell heavily against her, his long body completely covering hers.  His cheek rested against her hair, sticking to the sheen of sweat covering his face.  His hand lay upon her breast, exposed by the torn material.
	B'Elanna's clutched him tightly to her, one leg wrapping about his.  She turned her face towards him, gently pressing her lips against his mouth.  Against him she whispered, "I love you," inbetween a soft mingling of lips, an exchange of ragged, heavy breaths.
	He rolled over, pulling her against him, her body curving into his.  She lay with her head against his chest, the steady beating of his heart against her ear.  After a few seconds, she pulled herself up slightly away from him.  His eyes were closed, long lashes lying upon his fair skin.  His lips were parted slightly.  She gazed at him for a few seconds in silence and then softly, "you tore my dress, Tom."
	His eyes did not open, but the hint of a smile played about his lips.  "Sorry."  She lay back down, her hand resting upon him, a smile curving her own lips.
	They slept.

THE END




soft mingling of lips, an exch�
��
���j���j��{�{����������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������
��
��
��
��9
��;
��u
���
���
���
���
���
�����3���\�����]��.	��\
�����E��qq�������k����������������
������!
E�����h��8��*��'�������;��������F�����z��7��<��k�����/����;���������-���-������������������������������-��3!���!���!���"���"��z#��+$���$��&��$'��w(���(��")���)��Y*��W+���+���,��%-��5-��g-��
.���.���/������������������������������/���0���1���2��L3���4��6���7��9���9��:���;��=��,=��g>��.?��5?��8@��}A���B���B���C���C���C��D�����������������������������D��cE��3F���F��;G��^G��RH��OI���I���I���J���J���K��L���M��O��@O��`O���P���R���S���S���U���V��gW�����������������������������gW��3X��2Y���Z��[\��?]��v^���_��N`��a���b���c��e��f���f��g���h��"j���j���j���j���j���j���j���j������������������������������j���j�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������
�
���j�����
��E���-���/��D��gW���j���j����������������Times New Roman�0Courier New��������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������� 
������������������������������������=���/�����8�������������=���/�����8��
���������������d���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������
�C�o�m�p�O�b�j���������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������
���U�������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������������