"But I've only been back two years," Rear Admiral Janeway said in disbelief. "The science teams aren't even finished examining half the data we brought back from the Delta Quadrant. We still can't get the damn armor to work on any ship other than Voyager and the transphasic torpedoes won't arm in any other launch configuration than the specs my future self gave to us…to say nothing of the species and planets we've cataloged."

"This is a mission specially suited to you, Kate." Admiral Xin Ho, Chief of Starfleet Operations told her over a cup of hot, black, Columbian-grown coffee.

Kathryn Janeway, lounging back in her office chair took another sip of the biting brew and shook her head again. Part of her wanted desperately to get back into space and command a ship, but the other part of her had become accustomed to her new position at Starfleet Headquarters.

Less than 25 months earlier, she'd brought the USS Voyager home to San Francisco, California, Earth, after nearly eight years of being lost in the Delta Quadrant. More than half of her original crew had been killed in the opening days of the mission of searching for the Maquis when the Caretaker had dragged them and a Maquis ship 70,000 light-years from home space.

Her crew had absorbed the crew of the renegade Maquis to survive the trip home.

After the welcoming gala, the trials, the pardons and debriefings, the scientists got to work on the information the Intrepid-class ship and her crew had to share, not the least of which was the "armor" the future Admiral Janeway adapted to Voyager and the Borg augmentations courtesy of Seven of Nine.

Janeway was promoted two ranks, skipping over the rank of commodore and given the lofty-sounding position of Commander, Voyager Group. While it sounded impressive, her job to oversee the dissemination of the data in Voyager's banks and have the 21 different department's assigned to analyze the data and figure ways to adapt it to current Federation technology, had Janeway bored after three months.

The department heads handled most of the coordination and just kept Janeway informed of their progress with weekly holo-meetings from their locations around the solar system. Her personal staff of eight staff and junior officers held fort on the day-to-day operations of her office.

When Janeway mentioned she had the time to step back and learn more about what had happened in the eight years since she'd left Earth with Voyager, she was asked look into the alliance the Alpha quadrant major powers had formed during the Dominion War. She was tasked with trying to keep the limited alliance between the Federation, Klingons and Romulans from breaking down.

She'd been authorized to share some of her unique insights into the Delta Quadrant, the Borg, Species 8472, Kazon and other civilizations with the Federation Allies, hoping a shared knowledge was a path to continued peace.

Star Fleet had been looking for such a person to fill the vacancy when it was noted in Janeway's official record that, while originally a superior science officer with some command ability, she had become a superior combat commander with a knack for crisis decision making and diplomacy. When wearing her dress uniform, three rows of medals hung down the left breast of her uniform to attest to the fact. She could put more on, but the weight bothered her.

The Chairman, knowing he was asking a lot from Janeway, had come to Star Fleet Headquarters and directly to Janeway's office in person to specifically ask her if she would make herself available for this mission. With his rank and position, he could have easily ordered her to his office, but this was a special request and Adm. Ho wanted to impress upon her how important he thought the request was.

"Command is figuring two to three weeks to get there with your armada and from there it is up to you to determine how to deploy your forces, Kate," the admiral said, having already shown her the details of the subspace ultimatum delivered to Deep Space 9's Colonel Kira by a "courier" from the Dominion.

The courier, a Jem'Hadar, handed Col. Kira the data pad then committed suicide.

"They will come," the admiral said of the Dominion forces. "The majority of your command officers will all have served aboard ships that fought in the Dominion War while you were away, but we believe you have the innate ability to find the missing pieces here.

"To avert another Dominion War, you'll also have to find the missing peace."

The senior admiral sat back. He'd made his offer. He knew he couldn't order Janeway on such a mission in good faith, but he believed she was right for it. He knew she'd been away for a long time and this mission could very well last a good deal longer if the DS9 Wormhole was destroyed by the Dominion.

Janeway spun her chair to face the vista that was San Francisco Bay. Her former crew was scattered across the face of the Earth, Earth Orbit, the Sol system and the Federation. It was times like this she missed Chakotay the most, with his quiet wisdom and strength.

She again sipped her coffee.

"On one condition, Admiral Ho," Janeway began, spinning her chair back to face the admiral, but was interrupted by her superior officer. "You name it," he was saying with his hand outstretched to shake her hand and seal the deal.

--

A jarring blow from the massive left hook of Legate Lurral rocked Chakotay. Blood from his eye splattered. He had to admit, the Cardassian could throw a punch when properly motivated. Chakotay backed several steps away and got his own defenses back in front of him. The legate came at him again, leading with his right in a clumsy jab that Chakotay had come to expect. Chakotay blocked and danced back to wiped away blood that was beginning to drip into his right eye.

From the legate came three quick jabs, fake left under hook, then two more quick jabs. Chakotay had been setting the legate up and when the young Cardassian stepped in for the second hook, Chakotay made his move. A half step to his opponent's left so the hook would end up missing Chakotay's chin by bare inches and then the quiet, confident former first officer of the USS Voyager unleashed a flurry of three dead-on impacts to the opposing fighter.

The first landed on the Legate's right temple causing him to lose his defensive stance, the second landed in the clavicle pocket where the Cardassian's shoulder muscles and exo-skeletal neck bracing was most vulnerable and the third, a left hook below the face bone rocked the Cardassian and sent him to the mat like a duffle bag of dirty laundry.

The gathered crowd of about 100, mostly Cardassian, fell silent. A few of the Federation attendees cheered wildly for Chakotay and collected wagers from some unfortunate Cardassians in the crowd, after all, no one from Starfleet was here, this was just a planning meeting.

Chakotay, sweating profusely, knelt down and tapped the groggy legate on the back of the head. Lurral moaned and rolled over. "You got me good, Earther, but I'll stand by my word. The reservoirs will be placed north of town with the aqua-purifiers."

Chakotay grinned painfully and helped the legate in charge of rebuilding this city destroyed during the Dominion War to his feet. "I thought you'd see it my way."

The former Maquis commander, thrice-decorated Starfleet officer, one-time first officer aboard the famed USS Voyager, who at one time vowed on his very life to kill all Cardassians who might threaten his home, now assisted the Cardassians on rebuilding their devastated home world. The man whose world was written off to the Cardassians was now a liaison and adviser to the Northwest Sector, Civilian Reclamation Board. He thought the name was appropriate because 600 years earlier, Chakotay's ancestors had migrated from what would become the Northwest Territories of Canada on Earth.

Following the successful return of Voyager to the Alpha quadrant, Chakotay and the other Maquis aboard Voyager were court-martialed for their participation in the Maquis before being swept into the Delta Quadrant for more than seven years. Extenuating circumstances and testimony from the crew of Voyager, including a very passionate appearance on the stand by Admiral Janeway, along with the fame and notoriety the trial brought for the 43 remaining Maquis, had all charges dismissed and the records of the former Starfleet officer's expunged of all crimes prior to being sent to the Delta Quadrant.

The five remaining crew of the USS Equinox had their stripping of ranks confirmed by courts martial and were dishonorably discharged from the service following completion of their sentence of three additional years at the New Zeeland Penal Settlement for their participation in the premeditated-murder of alien species.

Chakotay had his rank of commander-provisional re-instated to that of a full commander and was offered one of several posts on deep space missions. Every captain at his trial offered him a position on their ship, it seemed to Chakotay. He'd turned them all down, believing he owed something back to the Cardassians he'd warred against years earlier. He felt he needed to bury some demons he'd kept inside of him during the flight back to the Alpha Quadrant. He also didn't want to be too far from Seven of Nine, the Borg drone who'd been cleaved from the Borg Collective and for whom he'd slowly, ever so gently, fallen deeply and passionately in love.

During his court martial, Chakotay had met Legate Lurral, one of the observers from Cardassia Prime who'd been invited to Earth to see that the Federation was closing the final chapter in the Maquis Rebellion.

Also, with more than 800 million dead from the first waves of attacks by Alpha Quadrant forces and the death of another 200 million before the final signing of the Peace Treaty, more than 1/4 of the population of Cardassia Prime had been wiped out, the Cardassians were only now slowly rebuilding. The Cardassian military had all but been wiped out and the civilian populations were left in ruin.

Following the war, the victors, minus the Klingons and Romulans who were over-ruled on placing an occupational force on the planet, offered to help rebuild the planet and help the people who were dying of starvation and a breakdown of militaristic infra-structure. A civilian government had been selected from the populace and Cardassia was slowly becoming a livable planet again.

By the time Voyager returned to earth and the Alpha Quadrant was hearing of the destruction of transwarp gates throughout quadrant, all the space faring species were feeling better about space travel, peace had become popular and exploration deeper into the galaxy was beginning.

Chakotay, however, felt he needed to heal some very old wounds.

Lurral, arrogant for a Cardassian and even more so considering his age, spoke to Chakotay only briefly following the trial. Bound by some unimaginable Cardassian Code of Honor, Lurral told Chakotay that he'd been first officer aboard one of the ships that had sought out the Maquis in the Bad Lands. He told of the loss of most of his battle group while hunting for Chakotay and his crews. There was sorrow in Legate Lurral's story, and Chakotay also saw that the Legate seemed somehow to admire the fortitude and drive the Earther had shown trying to protect his people and world.

Now the legate had the audacity to ask Chakotay's help in rebuilding his shattered world. He said there had been many offers to help, but far too few had actually come to Cardassia to help rebuild. The legate believed Chakotay, famous as he was now, would bring more help to Cardassia.

Chakotay, suggested to the young legate that he find some one else to fix up the world that had been bombarded for nearly 32 hours from space and later by ground troops...Klingon ground troops. He stared menacingly at the Cardassian for several seconds, who had the good sense to keep his hands at his side, then walked away. It took a week and several conversations with Janeway and Seven of Nine before Chakotay took the job.

The legate, wanting to say "I knew you would," showed remarkable restraint when the former Starfleet officer beamed aboard the Gallor-class ambassadorial ship that orbited Earth. Instead, he welcomed Chakotay with the standard Cardassian greeting. "Welcome to our great ship. May your voyage be smooth and fast and your enemies be weak and slow." Chakotay nodded and rolled eyes to the legate and said, "Let's just get going. We have work to do."

The legate smiled a smile that never reached his eyes and stood tall on the bridge of the ship. He spoke to the ship's captain, "Let's go, Gul Tevvek, our people are dying."

Chakotay spent most of the cruise in his billet with three others from the Voyager crew, although none of them former Maquis. He'd planned on never liking the arrogance of the Cardassians and was having second thoughts about this trip. He knew he'd survive, but would he heal?

That had been six months ago. He did survive and he helped the Northwest Sector become habitable and arable and pleasant for the surviving Cardassians. There was still much work to do, including the placement of the reservoir and aqua-purifiers, what had brought him to this meeting tonight. It had been decided that for Chakotay and Lurral to solve the problem of where to place the massive reservoir would be for the two to "discuss it" in a "decision ring."

The ring, a circle 20 meters in diameter with two-meter tall metal posts every half-meter around the circumference, was akin to a boxing ring. The discussion would be over when one of the opponents was knocked out of the ring, or knocked out from the fight. Chakotay had seen several of the discussions before, but had not participated until now. The impasse between he and the legate had festered over the last few weeks and finally, after all the plans and blueprints and studies had been completed, Chakotay insisted the northern basin was the best spot for the reservoir, while Legate Lurral insisted the "Torrent Gully" to the west of the city was better.

A discussion in the ring was scheduled.

The reservoir would be built to the north of the city.

Pulling the legate to his feet, Chakotay couldn't help feel the bond the two had formed. Not one of friendship, but one of mutual trust, something the former Maquis couldn't quite understand. The legate, bleeding from his nose bones and with one noticeably swollen neck brace leaned on Chakotay. He laughed and coughed up a small amount of blood. "You debate well, Chakotay." Chakotay had to smile at the comment, one of the very few compliments the Cardassian had given him.

Maybe some of my wounds are beginning to heal after all, he thought to himself, as he and the legate leaned against one of the poles.

Engineer Vorick, Torres' Vulcan assistant in engineering who had volunteered to come to Cardassia to help with construction of power plants, walked up to Chakotay as he leaned against the pole, dabbing his bloody eye.

"Sir, I have a comm message for you," he said without preamble or any voice inflection. "It's from Starfleet headquarters."

Chakotay stood up quickly, the dizziness that was floating around in his head, disappeared quickly.

He took the comm padd from Vorick and keyed in his security code. The message was from Janeway. It simply said "I need you, again."

Chakotay looked at Legate Lurral. The legate, no longer breathing heavily looked back at his one-time enemy. "What is it?"

Looking up from the padd, Chakotay said simply, "I have to go."

--

"She's where?" B'Elanna raged at her slowly backing away husband. "I can't believe it! What's got into you?"

"Look, B'Elanna, my father and his wife can take of her for a night," Tom Paris said in defense of himself. "If Admiral Paris can oversee more than 1,200 Starfleet personnel, Grandpa Paris can take care of Mirial for a night." Tom had his hands up in front of himself, not that B'Elanna would ever strike him in anger, but the look in her eyes flared to mirror the Klingon blood that ran in her veins.

"Three days," the Starfleet lieutenant-commander roared, stripping off her engineer jacket and tossing it onto a replica of a 1950 13-channel Zenith black and white television, the pockets lined with several dozen of the various tools B'Elanna used everyday. "Three days from now I have to report to Admiral Janeway for a mission to the Gamma Quadrant, and you have the nerve to let my little girl stay at you father's for the night? What were you thinking?"

Tom, a civilian, and very proud of it, wiggled an eye-brow and smiled the smile that had caused women in his past to melt. "B'Elanna, honey, listen," he said softly, "I just wanted an evening alone with you before you go. Dad has been asking for Mirial to spend some time with him and Argelica and this is the perfect time."

B'Elanna was mollified, but only a little, so Tom pressed on. "I talked with Kathryn today," B'Elanna still couldn't get used to Tom calling the admiral by her first name, but with him out of the service and Janeway having adopted the nickname "Aunt Katie" by Tom and Mirial, she'd live with it. "She said you are going to be in the Gamma Quadrant for several weeks or longer. She 'suggested' you and I spend some quality time together."

B'Elanna knew that Janeway would have said something and made it seem like more than a suggestion. Janeway had offered her chief engineer from Voyager the position Officer-in-Charge of development of the transphasic torpedo systems the future Janeway had blessed them with. It kept B'Elanna in-system, just a shuttle and a transport from Tom and her toddler. She was able to make it home most every evening before her daughter went to bed.

Tom showed a very good ability to be a mostly-stay at home father. He test flew civilian trans-atmospheric craft for Lock-Martin several times a month and took care of the raising of their daughter. It was a good fit for both the parents. It was also a good fit for their daughter who at times stayed with Tom's father and step-mother or the doctor.

But now a mission had come up and B'Elanna was offered a position aboard Janeway's flagship as chief engineer. B'Elanna wanted to accept the offer straight away, but knew she'd have to talk it over with Tom before she made the commitment. She was a little angered that Janeway had gotten to Tom before she had, and that had started the beginning rage.

Tom had already turned down Janeway's offer to return to active duty. He knew B'Elanna would be offered a position and told Janeway he was fine with it. But Tom didn't tell B'Elanna that he knew about her offer from Janeway and was trying to surprise her. It almost turned into a battle of legendary proportions, but Tom was dancing his way out of it and smiling like a used starship salesman to calm his wife.

The half-Klingon, half-human's smoldering eyes flashed their last bits of anger. Tom's hands, which he'd held in front of him defensively, slipped into hers. Lips, which had seconds ago been sputtering angrily, became soft and caring as they reached for her husband's lips. "Flyboy," she whispered, "you have a way with words."

"I'm a dad, a civilian and a test pilot, in that order," he said. "I gave up being a flyboy three years ago."

"You'll always be my Flyboy," his wife said as she pulled on his neck to bring his face close to her.

--

Lieutenant Harry Kim sat in the command seat of the USS Sgt. York, an Akira-class combat cruiser patrolling the corridor between Earth and the Typhon Expanse. He finished reading the crew duty logs on the padd given to him by a young ensign and signed his approval to it.

Duty aboard the York was good for Kim. His position as first officer allowed him to command away missions to other vessels with whom they came into contact or planetary missions. He was solely responsible for the duty roster and he always was first to hear the best gossip from Starfleet Command.

Starfleet engineers were still struggling to find ways to reverse-engineer the technology brought back from the Delta quadrant and Harry always wanted to know what was happening with his old ship.

The doors from the turbolift swished open and Lt. Commander Mendon, the Benzite commander of the York, walked purposefully onto the bridge. During the first few weeks the two served together, Harry had a difficult time adjusting to the way Mendon commanded. He had been given his choice of dozens of starships aboard which to serve, including some of the Galaxy- and Sovereign-class ships, but only Mendon had been in a position to offer him a job as first officer.

After nearly eight years of watching and learning from Commander Chakotay, Harry knew he could do the job aboard a ship with only 28 officers and 61 crew.

His debriefing at Starfleet lasted more than two months. He had arranged a one month leave to spend time with his parents and then reported to Starfleet headquarters as Lieutenant Junior Grade Harry Kim. He spent his time working with Seven of Nine coordinating data transfer from Voyager to various research groups. Just as his assignment was winding down, his promotion to full lieutenant came through.

The entire command crew showed up for his promotion party, including Command Tuvok, who'd spent over a year in treatment on Vulcan. He was looking healthier than he had during debriefing. Healer T'rar, of the Vulcan Academy of Medicine had personally taken Tuvok back home to Vulcan. She had also signed his release from care in time to attend Harry's promotion.

He recalled how good it felt to have everyone back together. Janeway, with her two new admiral pips, removed the black pip on his collar and his mom added the gold one.

Chakotay had Seven of his arm, Tom held his and B'Elanna's little girl while B'Elanna led a cheer. Tuvok stood impassively with his wife and two of his children who were cadets at Starfleet, the Doctor beamed at everyone, wearing the latest civilian clothes he'd programmed for himself and took dozens of pictures with his holo-cam, Icheb, his cadet uniform immaculate stood at attention while Naomi Wildman held sweetly on his arm.

Ambassador Neelix even sent a subspace message of congratulations.

For Harry, it was a proud day and just the memories made him smile.

Mendon was a very self-assured commander and early in their relationship, Harry questioned himself on choosing to be the first officer aboard the smaller ship rather than taking a position of third officer or second operations officer aboard one of the larger ships. But as the weeks passed and Harry adapted, just as he'd been forced to with Janeway and Chakotay, he realized this ship posting had been just what he needed.

He found Mendon to be a very detailed oriented commander and a very polite captain, adept at strategy and tactics and an excellent teacher. Despite himself, Harry learned a lot from the captain and began enjoying his assignment.

Standing from the command chair, Mendon didn't sit down as he usually did, nor did he ask for the report Harry was ready to give him. Instead, taking a deep breath of the dry ice vapors emitted from his crovert, he handed Harry a padd.

"You are relieved of duty, Mr. Kim," Mendon said. "Lieutenant T'sak, you are now the first officer for the USS York, effective immediately." Harry looked down at the padd as a young female Vulcan stepped out from behind the operations console. Harry knew she would have already called for a replacement officer to take over her position.

He had a difficult time believing he'd been relieved of duty. He couldn't fathom what he could have done to be removed from his position. He skipped over the heading and right to the body of the text on the padd. It told him he was to report to Starfleet headquarters within three days, reporting to room 1137, wing C.

"What's this about, captain?" Harry asked Mendon. "Has anyone one told you anything?"

"Calm down, First," Mendon said. "Read it again, slowly this time"

Harry read the entire message again, this time focusing on where he was to report. "Admiral Janeway's office?"

"Yes, First. Admiral Janeway seems to need you."

--

Annika Hansen hated Earth. More correctly, she didn't like the "interrogators" at Starfleet Command. After a month of their questions she finally said enough and asked to be assigned to the Voyager Group. The investigators from Starfleet Special Services were reluctant to let her go, but when she refused any more of their "irrelevant questioning," they really didn't have much choice. She found the multitudes on Earth uncomfortable and suggested one of the Deep-space Stations where scientists were going over the star charts Voyager had brought back.

She also decided the name Seven suited her better then Annika Hansen, so continued using the name. However she did drop using "of Nine." The aunt with whom she had written and spoke many times on the return from the Delta quadrant had unfortunately passed away before Seven met her. Seven was left with no more family than she'd had two years earlier. She didn't feel alone however, as her relationship with Chakotay was progressing along the predicted parameters.

With Seven working with the top Federation minds in astrophysics and Chakotay spending much of his time on Cardassia Prime, their time together was limited, but they made it work. Both were dedicated and tireless workers, but they made sure to spend at least a week together without distractions every month. They would arrange to meet on a planet and each time they did was like the first for Seven.

Chakotay had once tried to have her blown out the cargo hold into space. He'd asked Janeway to abandon her on any Class M planet. He'd invaded her mind to shut her out of controlling Voyager.

Seven, at first, distrusted the man and his emotional attachment to trinkets and stones which he believed could tell him which direction to take in his life. She didn't like his command style, thinking he let himself become too emotionally close to his crew. She also thought the tattoo on his face was an unnecessary addition to and acceptable looking face.

However, as the Doctor systematically shut down some of the implants which controlled Seven's higher contemplative brain function, she began to come to understand the commander and his lust for life, his dedication to duty, his strong work ethic and his willingness to lead from the front, setting the example which he would demand the crew to follow. She also, eventually learned of his passion and his total surrender to true love.

Their relationship began slowly, with Chakotay having been hurt by women before, including the treacherous Seska, building the romance on the basics of trust and understanding, tolerance and acceptance. Seven appreciated his kindness and understanding and returned it on the levels she could understand and comprehend. While her body was that of a mature woman, parts of her mind still had attributes of a six-year-old little girl.

Seven quartered in the singles habitat bubble orbiting Pluto, within transporter range of the Trifex Array, a deep space telescope the Sol astrophysicists enjoyed aiming at different points in the galaxy. She worked closely with eight very like-minded senior men and women who were thought of as leaders in their field.

Each month, it seemed, Seven would systematically destroy some theory of theirs on the universe and they would go back to their computers and AIs and try to figure out where their mathematical computations were wrong.

She enjoyed working with the highly intelligent scientists and the work schedule that seemed to suit them all. Three weeks of work followed by a week with Chakotay. She felt her life was beginning to take on order here in the Alpha Quadrant. She knew Chakotay would soon be leaving his mission on Cardassia and he would want to take her some place and begin procreation of a new generation. She believed within a year, the two would head off to one of the frontier planets with Chakotay as probably the Starfleet liaison for the planet. She had been thinking about what it would be like cohabitating with him for a greater length of time. She had made arrangements to discuss it at length with him on one of their visits.

She entered the Array's laboratory which was positioned 25 kilometers in-system from the Array. The eight scientists looked forlorn and depressed when she arrived. She looked at the chronometer on the wall and saw she was one minute, 30 seconds early, so she knew they weren't upset about her being late. From the Doctor's lessons, she learned that it was appropriate that she should ask "What's wrong?" so she did.

Dr. Joachim Muhammad, head scientist, showed Seven the padd. As she was reading, he recited what she was reading. "A Class XVII shuttle will arrive at 0910 hours to transport Annika Hanson to Starfleet headquarters. She will report to the office of Rear Admiral Kathryn Janeway no later than 2100 hours, this date."

Seven looked up at the scientists and cocked her head. "I do not know what this is about," she said, "but it must be important if Admiral Janeway feels the need to re-assign me." She then turned to leave to return to her habitat and collect what belongings she'd acquired. Remembering one of the other lessons the Doctor had taught her, she turned to the whispering scientists. "It has been my pleasure to work with such intelligent people."

The group broke apart with Dr. Valerie Norton coming up and wrapping one of her oversized arms around Seven's neck and pulled her head down to kiss her on the cheek. "We'll miss you," Annika, the elderly woman said. "We've learned so much from you, we'll miss you." The other scientists shook her hand or bowed in respect. With that Seven left the laboratory and headed back to the transporter room.

She didn't know why Janeway would want to re-assign her, not that she could technically what with Seven not being in the military, but Seven trusted Janeway and if she was sending a shuttle, a Class XVII shuttle at that, to transport her to Earth, she knew it must be important.

Seven finished packing at five minutes past the hour of 9 a.m. She put her three bags onto an anti-grav sled and walked to the shuttle docking ring. She could see the shuttle "Curious George" lining up at the airlock. There was a faint hiss as the dock equalized air pressures and opened. Her bags were transported from the anti-grav sled to the shuttle's cargo hold. She expected the pilot to welcome her aboard, but no one was coming out to greet her, which wasn't that unusual either. She entered the airlock and palmed the inner door of the shuttle. The door slid open.

The air of the shuttle was typically cold and sterile. Her comm badge chirped and a computer voice welcomed her aboard and asked her to make herself comfortable because Earth was on the far side of the solar system. It also told her the shuttle would be leaving in 20 seconds. The shuttle, built like a small runabout with the cockpit separate from the passenger hold, had room to hold four people comfortably.

Seven sat at one of the auxiliary science stations that would give her access to World Net so she could catch up on current events on Earth. She hoped she could acquire some information while the shuttle hurdled sunward. In her periphery she heard the clamps loose the shuttle and the maneuvering jets push the ship away from habitat.

She's just finished assimilating 12 reports from the major news organizations concerning items that might be within the realm of Janeway's interest as it concerned Seven when the cockpit door hissed open.

The pilot was just finishing setting the automatic pilot and Seven estimated he'd just come from Jupiter Station, where this ship was birthed, and he was hungry and tired and was coming back for food and sleep. The pilots of these shuttles were unusually silent types, loners for the most part or Starfleet officers who didn't fit the Janeway, Picard, Jelico-type mold, but filled a niche. Seven had been on such flights before so ignored the pilot, as was their usual wish.

She was accessing the star charts sent from the USS Prometheus when she saw the reflection of the pilot faintly in the monitor screen.

Seven knew she had an effect on men and more than once saw the unwelcome lust in a man's eyes when he looked at her. She was always prepared, but she was never comfortable with the lecherous looks some men gave her. She also thought that some men, the loners, were more apt to be more forward with her than others. The face in the monitor slowly moved closer to her and she tensed.

Seven turned quickly to confront the man who was infringing on her personal space and being supremely rude by coming up behind her stealthily. Her pupils dilated large when she saw the pilot.

"We have 11 hours and 20 minutes before we dock. Do you have any plans?" Chakotay asked her.

--

Lieutenant Galloway sat in awe at the assembled officers in Janeway's conference room. Galloway had been hand selected by Janeway to be her assistant just six months earlier after his predecessor had been selected for starship duty. He'd tried hard to do his duty and not be in awe of the admiral who'd made more first contacts than the legendary James T. Kirk, but this was too much.

Galloway had arrived at Janeway's office at 0600 to begin setting up the briefing. He knew who had been ordered and requested to be at the briefing, but as they started reporting, Galloway became more and more impressed.

Commander Chakotay and Seven had showed up first, followed closely by Lt. Commander B'Elanna Torres and the Doctor. Lt. Commander Tuvok beamed in at precisely 0855 hours and Lt. Kim appeared a minute later.

Galloway, watching the interaction between the crew that had spent nearly eight years traveling 70,000 light years to get back to the Alpha Quadrant, wondered if he would ever be a part of such a clique.

Knowing Janeway would walk through the door in precisely two minutes, with a steaming cup of hot coffee, Galloway stood and asked the Voyager crew to take their places on the far end of the 22-seat table in the conference room.

He opened the bottom drawer of his desk, activated the retinal reader on a lock box and pulled out six data padds. Just as he stood, Admiral Janeway's door hissed open.

"Before you say it," Janeway said before Galloway could call everyone to attention, "we are all friends here and this isn't the command deck of a ship." She winked and smiled at Galloway in a warm way as she swept the padds out of his hands and went to join the rest of her former crew.

Galloway, knowing he'd been dismissed by the admiral, pulled a dozen more padds out of the desk safe and headed to the other conference room to prepare for Janeway's next meeting.

Janeway greeted everyone at the table. She'd spoken to each one of them the previous evening, taking the time to catch up then, rather than waste time at this meeting asking how everyone's life was going. Every one of her former crew had tried to pry out of her why they'd been recalled back to Earth, but she had to shut each one of them down.

This morning's meeting was business. "Please, everyone sit down and let's get busy," she said warmly, but very authoritatively. "I have asked you all here for one reason and that's because I've been saddled with a task of averting the invasion of the Federation by the Jem'Hadar."

Everyone one of the assembled officer looked at the padd Janeway had given them. The lone civilian, Seven, didn't need too. She knew all about the race that was the military for the Vorta, who were themselves subservient to the Founders.

She knew the Jem'Hadar had not been worth assimilating by the Borg because without their Ketracel-white drug, they died quickly. The Vorta were generally a physically weak race, few in number, so had not been assimilated en masse. The technologies the Borg had encountered was not superior to what they already possessed so the two species had been largely ignored.

The padds briefly detailed the message delivered to Colonel Kira from DS9 on how, thanks to some preliminary work done by a human doctor years before on a planet held by the Jem'Hadar, the Jem'Hadar had been freed from the drug that enslaved them.

It summarized how the race had, over the course of the last five years, killed their Vorta and taken over nine planets in six systems. They felt the Vorta and Founders had abandoned them to die without a purpose.

They had begun building fleets of ships to take revenge on the Alpha quadrant for removing all that had been designed for.

There were also details of an artificial wormhole technology they had stolen from a civilization on one of the planets they had taken over, allowing them to avoid using the Bajoran worm hole.

The soldier who had delivered the message to Colonel Kira was a member of a resistance group who believed the Jem'Hadar should not blame the civilizations of the Alpha quadrant, but rather the Founders themselves.

After delivering his message, his ritual suicide had been quick, before he could be questioned about the deployment of the Jem'Hadar forces. He might have been a traitor to his government, but he was a soldier and had no wish to become a prisoner.

Speculation was a sect of the Jem'Hadar had broken off from main group and hoped the Federation and its allies would prepare for another war in the Alpha Quadrant. The Jem'Hadar, while quick to populate planets, would be unable to match the full force of the Alpha Quadrant war machine once it got rolling.

After giving the people at the table a chance to read the padds, Janeway told them what was actually going to happen. B'Elanna had learned already she would be working in engineering on Voyager, but had not shared that knowledge with anyone else except Tom, who was right now flying himself and Mirial to the low-grav amusement park on Chiron.

"I've been ordered to take an armada to the Gamma quadrant and quell the Jem'Hadar's plans for invasion and try to turn them into something more than interstellar bullies," she explained.

Kim was the first to speak. "An armada? Surely Starfleet isn't expecting us to go in there and wipe them out?"

"Don't think that a lot of people here on Earth, on Qu'noS, or on Romulus, Betazed, Tholia, Bajor, Crell or a dozen other worlds wouldn't like to see just that, Harry. There are many races who'd like to see the Jem'Hadar wiped out to the last being," Janeway said, cradling her coffee and leaning forward.

"But fortunately, the messenger went to Deep Space 9 and not one of the Klingon outposts because that is exactly what Chancellor Martok suggested.

"I have been ordered to find a peaceful solution and that's what I'm going to do."

Chakotay, having acquired the knack of understanding what Janeway's plans were, even before they were fully thought out, spoke up next. "You want us along as your muscle," he stated.

Janeway grinned. "Close, but no Romulan ale."

The Doctor, who had up until now remained silent, saw what he thought, was the reason he was here. "You want me to find out what the human doctor did to the Jem'Hadar and see if I can find a way to quell their genetic disposition to destroy everything." He then smiled as if he had answered a question no one else could have.

"Maybe, Doctor, but no," Janeway said.

"It must be something medical, admiral, I'm a doctor, not a diplomat," he said with characteristic indignity for being left uninformed. Tuvok lifted his right eyebrow slightly.

Ending the questioning, Janeway raised her hand to stop everyone.

She looked around the table, just as she'd done for years in the Delta Quadrant. "There will be a battle, of that there is no doubt. Not because we want it, but we have to do something before another war kills 2 billion people and lays waste to a half dozen planets, over 12,000 ships and a dozen space stations."

Janeway's voice was raspy serious as she made eye contact with each one of them. "We are not going to destroy them, but we will stop them."

The mood, which had been rather jovial 15 minutes earlier, became somber and very serious.

"Chakotay, you'll command Voyager. You are recalled from reserve duty and your promotion to captain is effective immediately." B'Elanna, Seven and Kim smiled, Tuvok nodded and the Doctor felt his collar, wondering if he shouldn't appear to have a rank.

Chakotay accepted the gold pip Janeway pulled from the recess in the table. Seven put it on his collar. "It appears adequate," she said, but smiled to let him know she did have feelings of pride toward him.

"I'll command the armada. You'll command Voyager. It will be my flag ship."

Do I get to choose my command crew, or have they been chosen for me?" he asked, without rancor, knowing that time was obviously short and Janeway may have already chosen his first officer.

"I haven't chosen anyone yet, but I have some profiles for you to look at," the admiral informed him.

"Fine," he said and then didn't hesitate to look at Tuvok. "Care to be my first officer Tuvok? I could use you and you do need a job, I hear."

"That will be acceptable Captain Chakotay," the Vulcan said. Chakotay knew the former tactical officer would be a valuable asset to Voyager as the flagship, despite him and Tuvok never hitting it off and never becoming friends. Chakotay knew a good officer and would not let his personal feelings let him decide on who it should be.

"If he didn't want the job, Captain Chakotay, I have had some practice," Harry said jokingly. He'd already suspected he was here to be asked to be the operations officer for Voyager.

His guess was wrong.

"Sorry, Harry," Janeway said, stopping Chakotay from asking him just that question. "You're my chief of staff, effective," she looked at the chronometer built into the black onyx table top, "22 minutes ago."

Harry grinned like the ensign he'd been 10 years ago. He reached up and felt his collar as if asking…

"Yes, to Lt. Commander," Janeway said without his need to ask. She pulled a single black pip from the recess she'd pulled Chakotay's pip from and slid it down the table. Tuvok pinned it on him. Congratulations were offered all around.

"B'Elanna, you have already been working to get Voyager ready, leaving only Seven in need of a job," Janeway said. Only Tuvok heard the Doctor mumble something about not knowing why he's been called here from Jupiter Station.

"The worm hole," she stated.

"Yes," Janeway said. "You are the foremost authority on artificial worm holes we have available. As a civilian, I can't order you to come along in to a combat situation, and you're…" She was interrupted when Seven said simply, "I accept. However, I am not in Starfleet."

Janeway made a slashing motion with her right hand and said "Already taken care of. You'll be assigned to my staff as a science specialist. Since you are also our resident expert on Borg technology, you'll be an asset to Captain Chakotay aboard Voyager."

Seven nodded once to signify her acceptance of the position.

"That's everyone here," Janeway said in closing the meeting. "We have 21 commanders and first officers in the conference room down the hall. My assistant Lt. Galloway is probably boring them with his tales of golfing prowess, so we'll finish the briefing there."

She stood and the rest followed suit. "Shall we?"

Walking toward the door, her former bridge crew spoke amongst themselves about the mission. The Doctor hurried to Janeway's shoulder and quickly asked, "why am I coming along?'

"Why Doctor," she said, "you're still listed as Voyager's CMO. We couldn't leave you behind."

--

"'tenshun on deck," Lt. Galloway bellowed over the loud group of officers in the large conference room as Admiral Janeway and her flagship crew and other officers entered.

The Starfleet personnel all snapped to the position of attention where they stood. The Klingons slapped their hands to their personal side arms and the Cardassians bowed briefly from the neck up.

"Thank you, lieutenant," Janeway said and then addressed the awaiting commanders and first officers from behind a solid wood lectern with a single lamp attached.

"I'm glad everyone could make it. We don't have much time so we'll dispense with the pleasantries and introductions. You can familiarize yourself with all the commanders from the briefing padds you've been given by my assistant.

"As you have read, I will command the armada from the flagship USS Voyager, and these people here," she motioned to Chakotay, Tuvok, Seven, Harry and B'Elanna, "will be on Voyager with me, with Captain Chakotay commanding the flagship. Our armada will be split up into three flights: the planetary combat flight," she nodded toward the Klingons in general, "the scouting and intelligence flight, and spatial defenses." Behind Janeway, from the ceiling a screen came down and showed the break down of the armada of which they were all now a part.

"Some of the officers I do want to mention here are Wing Leader Klank," she said pointing to a large Klingon standing near one of the force screen windows of the conference room. "He will be commanding the Klingon contingent as well as the Vra'Klu" (meaning "Death from Above") the 24th Century's answer to the aircraft carrier.

His ship has 20 four-man fighters aboard for close planetary air and ground support of the other ships in his flight. Should I be taken out of action, he will take over command of the armada." On the screen showed Klank's ship, a dirt colored vessel, built on the same chassis of the Bohr'Tas-class destroyer, with two heavy warp nacelles and six shuttle bay doors exiting between them.

Also attached to the Klingon's flight would be 14 Vulcan Slaster-class ships. Slaster-class ships were highly maneuverable, heavily armed planetary defense fighters. The 30-man crews would be valuable as high atmospheric support for any Klingon troops put on planet. The Slasters had small warp engines, but would be unable to traverse the distances involved so had been piggybacked to Klank's destroyer, like earth's moray eels to a shark, for transit purposes.

Klank, who had once been second officer to Commander Riker aboard the Pagh, stepped forward. "My ship will serve with honor. My wing will fight like Klingons." The other lesser Klingon commanders roared while the others looked on. Some looked on in disgust, some with concern, still others with merriment.

The young Klingon earned distinction during the Dominion War by defeating seven Jem'Hadar and a Vorta after his ship had crashed on a deserted planet. The rest of the crew dead, Klank refused to surrender to the inevitable and enemy by enemy he took out the remaining Jem'Hadar.

When rescued, Klank was alive, but damaged, losing his left hand during the crash. He could have been fitted with a prosthetic, but Klank was a true Klingon warrior and demonstrated it by not allowing his missing hand keep him from returning to the foray.

The rest of Klank's flight consisted of three troop transports of 2,000 Dominion War-hardened warriors, two Birds of Prey and three Romulan Raptor-class ships for patrolling and scouting in force, and his own Vra'Klu.

"The second flight will be commanded by Commander Worf from his ship, the USS Defiant," Janeway continued after the ruckus died down.

"Mr. Worf probably has more experience than anyone here in combating the Jem'Hadar, however, I want to use his knowledge of Jem'Hadar tactics and strategies, and the Defiant's cloaking device as our scout ships. On board the Defiant and working with Commander Worf will be Operative Seelie of the tal Shiar. She infiltrated 17 Jem'Hadar installations and four Breen ships during the war." Janeway saw Worf standing with Dr. Julian Bashir and a few others from the Defiant, but Operative Seelie stood by herself, away from both the other Romulans in the group and the Defiant's crew.

The screen behind Janeway showed the Defiant, once known as the San Palo, with some unclassified details of the Armor's deflection characteristics.

"The Defiant has been equipped with the latest in communications gear and carries six of the transphasic torpedoes you've been told about. It is also the only other ship in our fleet that has been fitted with the Armor technology we have. It has not been flight tested, but we don't have time for tests." Janeway didn't mention that Worf's flight would also be the weakest of the three with just two other Defiant-class ships, sans the cloak, two New Orleans-class frigates, a pair of D-12 Klingon destroyers and the single Nebula-class heavy cruiser, the USS Archer.

"Commanding the Archer is Captain Alizza Crea." Cheers went up from the Klingons and the Federation officers.

Crea and her crew of the late USS FireHawk, an Apollo-class picket ship with a crew of 61 had been trapped behind enemy lines near the BadLands for 78 days during the Dominion War. Instead of hiding out, the merry crew of the FireHawk harassed shipping lanes, attacked deep space sensor buoys, recovered the crews of two Klingon war birds, took out 12 Dominion Raiders and two Jem'Hadar destroyers. FireHawk was destroyed in the last days of the war, but 49 of the crew and 112 Klingons were recovered by advancing Alpha Quadrant forces.

"Captain Crea is the third in command of the armada and the Archer's been outfitted with seven medical bays. She is the best we have for a medical ship and Dr. Bashir," she nodded in the direction of the young doctor who had written a number of well received papers on the Jem'Hadar, "is on loan from Deep Space 9. Where possible, he will work in the Archer's medical bays, having treated at least one of every species in this room. Consider him the armada's CMO."

The screen showed the medical bays and transporter layout of the huge ship. The lower saucer section looked to have been totally redesigned for medical emergencies.

"However, he is also assigned directly to my staff, but we'll go into that later." Janeway nodded to Capt. Crea and to Dr. Bashir. "Voyager will be attached to Worf's wing, however, not as an element but for the sake of safety and because of the armor we carry."

"Voyager," Janeway said, looking at all the top commanders around the room, "is not going to be used as a combat vessel unless absolutely necessary. Our mission is to stop the next war, not start one."

She'd originally had second thoughts about Worf, but a hand written letter on very beautiful hand-made, vegetable-based stationary, from Capt. Benjamin Sisko, former commander of Deep Space 9 and Prophet of Bajor, was delivered to her office by a Bajoran Vedec. He wrote that Worf was a warrior of honor. "I trusted my life, and my son's life, to Worf, and he defended it," Sisko wrote. "To serve with Worf, is to serve with the best this quadrant has to offer."

Janeway had received a comment from the captain of the USS Archer, about putting a "lowly" commander in charge of a combat flight over a captain, and Janeway just plopped Worf's file down on the table of the cafe the two had chosen for mid-day meal. "Eighteen engagements with the Jem'Hadar, 27 personal engagements against Jem'Hadar soldiers, 14 commendations for duty above and beyond, Chief of Security aboard the Enterprise during the Borg incursion and more," she said as she slid the pad to Capt. Crea.

Crea stroked the back of her neck and read through the file on the padd. "Well, as long as he doesn't try to make me stand inspection, I have no more complaints," the matronly captain said. "I hope he's as good as his record shows, because I lost two ships under me during the War. I don't plan on losing the Archer."

Janeway had read Crea's file when choosing the people she wanted to accompany her into the Gamma Quadrant. The captain, looking more like a mother who should be baking cookies for a group of teenagers in one of the cul-de-sacs in downtown Anycity on Earth, was as good a commander as Starfleet made. Her iron-grey hair, soft, caring eyes, the picture of her husband and three kids in her ready room, belied the fact she'd commanded five different ships and served on eight others, in her 28-year career in Starfleet, including the ill-fated, but well-decorated FireHawk.

Continuing, Janeway said "the third wing will be commanded by Gul Rogard of the 42nd Defense Force, Cardassia Prime," Janeway said, pointing out the Cardassians to the room. "The Cardassians are sending six Galor-class warships." a single schematic of the Galor-class heavy attack ship, the unclassified version, was displayed, including the new high-density particle disrupters adapted from Romulan technology.

The room buzzed with voices and Janeway could feel the tensions of the soldiers she was about to lead into battle. Many of them had fought in the Dominion War together, some of them against each other. With still others, like the Klingons and Romulans, there was a blood hatred going back generations. From what she'd read of Worf's file, he actively hated the Romulans for what they did to his parents, their part in the attempt to take over the Klingon Empire during the Civil War years ago, and a renegade Cardassian killed his wife Jadzia Dax. She knew this armada could turn into its own little war if she did not keep iron control over it.

"As some of you know, or have heard, Gul Rogard was the leader of the resistance movement which turned the ships engaged with Sisko on the final day of the war," Janeway said. "It was his efforts that took command of the 7th Squadron and turn on the Jem'Hadar."

Silence settled over the room. Many had not known this.

Janeway continued. "Rogard had been working with the Federation for more than six weeks before the final battle and he was instrumental the holding action which allowed Sisko to make it to Cardassia Prime."

Whispers and hushed voices were barely heard, but there was less disgust in the sound of it.

The screen slid back into the ceiling after Janeway finished the introductions and she laid the padd down she'd not been using. Her voice took on a very serious and quiet tone as she walked down in front of the lectern. "There will be fighting, there will be injuries and there may be deaths. No one likes what we're going to have to do, but enough people have died.

"We are going to have to find a way to either change the way the Jem'Hadar think of us or destroy their ability to attack us.

"Once we go through the Bajoran worm hole, Col. Kira will re-activate the mine field on this side. The only way for a ship to get back through will be to transmit the command code to the relay station and through the worm hole. That command code is known only to myself and the wing commanders and their first officers and a couple of others. It will not be entered into any computer or storage device.

"When we get to the other side, we will be committed. Intelligence shows the Jem'Hadar are already massing ships. We will have to find the leaders and convince them to stop this war, or to stop it ourselves.

"Now some of you are asking why we aren't sending in a larger fleet. The reason is because we don't have the resources to spare in the timeframe we have been given. We have ships scattered throughout the quadrant, but the Jem'Hadar can build ships three times faster and produce soldiers 10 times faster. If we don't move out soon, they would out number us and be able to flood the Alpha Quadrant with guerrilla warriors, making no planet safe.

"We have more than 25 ships here and now. We have some of the best commanders this quadrant has to offer. We need to go now and stop this war before it starts in earnest," she finished, standing face to face with the officers she would lead into battle. "We do not want to lose the Bajoran worm hole. We don't want them using their own worm hole the way the Borg used their transwarp conduits to invade.

"We are the force that is going to stop the Jem'Hadar.

"Now, I have spoken briefly of Doctor Bashir," she said, walking up to the strikingly handsome, dark-eyed man dressed in medical blues. "The good doctor and one Chief Miles Edward O'Brien were taken as prisoners by the Jem'Hadar. The doctor was forced to try to find a way to wean the Jem'Hadar from the Ketracel-white drug.

"From his report, he'd come close to finding a solution, but circumstances led to his liberation from the imprisonment and his work remained unfinished by him.

"It seems, however, someone else finished his work. Doctor Bashir is along to try to find out what was done and how it might be responsible for bringing this new war to us." She looked directly into the doctor's eyes. She didn't like Bashir. She found his work brilliant and intuitive, but she found the man to be brash and cavalier. Doctor Bashir, with courage earned from being on the front line of the Dominion War leveled his gaze back at her.

Janeway had met the doctor, and his wife, two days earlier at a Star Fleet Medical symposium. The admiral and the doctor had conferenced for more than two hours about the mission he and O'Brien had been on in an attempt to work a solution, or at least better intelligence, about what they might find in the Gamma Quadrant. Bashir had introduced his wife to Janeway and was surprised that the junior lieutenant's symbiot had served aboard the U.S.S. Al-Batani as an ensign in the persona of Jadzia Dax. While Janeway had only met Jadzia a few times, and never socially, it made for an interesting discussion.

After the meeting, Janeway decided she was going to need Doctor Bashir to work with her own EMH doctor to resolve some of the issues they would be facing and handed him his orders.

"But admiral," the doctor said in most proper, but to Janeway whiney, English, "this is the first time we've been back to Earth in years."

"Doctor, we're going to need you. You can take your leave when, and if, we get back. Report to me two days from today with as much equipment as you think you'll need." Janeway then handed him a padd with his orders on it.

Looking into his eyes now, Janeway could see the passion the doctor had inside him, but she refused to flinch.

To close the meeting, she returned to her lectern and spoke to everyone.

"All ships are to rendezvous at Deep Space 9 in five days for final orders. Be sure you are fully provisioned as we have no way to re-provisioning once we are through the worm hole. If you have any questions or problems, send them to Wing Leader Klank.

"Good luck to us all." With her final sentence, Lt. Galloway spoke up again. "'teshun on deck," and then followed as Janeway and her crew left the conference room.

The five days went by too fast for some, dragged on like a dozen forevers for others.

Chakotay took command of Voyager with Commander Tuvok at his side as he walked the corridors, meeting some many of the new people and a few of the old. Engineers were replacing panels and re-installing some of the equipment which hadn't been returned to the ship because of testing. Provisioning was nearly completed with just a few medical computers and some replacement components for some of the ship's systems.

Entering the bridge, Tuvok glanced over at the security station to see it manned by one of the members of Voyager's original crew, Ensign, now Lt. Vorak.

"Congratulations on your promotion Mr. Vorak. Last I had heard you were on Cardassia Prime," Tuvok said to him. "I had no idea you had returned to active duty."

"Thank you, sir," Vorak said. "I spent a year with Captain Chakotay on Cardassia, but found the mission there not as fulfilling as I had hoped. I returned to Star Fleet and was pleased to find a berth in security aboard Voyager was still open. I have been fully trained on all systems."

"Very well, lieutenant," Tuvok said as he and Chakotay took seats that Chakotay and Janeway had made their own for seven years.

Flipping open the first officer's console, Tuvok memorized the bridge crew and their records on the first reading. Again he marveled at how well his treatment for a degenerative neurological disease had progressed once he'd gotten back to Vulcan. He had hardly noticed how much brain function he'd lost until his mind had been repaired.

Vorak filled the position of security chief, but the tactical station had been moved and was to another station. This was Tuvok's request as he felt tactical and security would be too much for one person to monitor effectively where they were headed.

The tactical station was improved and moved to the port side of the bridge in easy view of the captain and first officer and monitored by Klingon lieutenant in Star Fleet red. Tuvok noticed the design of the tactical station was of Klingon mostly design.

Manning ops, Ensign Harry Kim's old position, was lieutenant commander who Tuvok knew was a former instructor at the academy. With all the ships in the armada, the position of operations was going to be very busy and someone experienced was needed and Janeway had asked Professor Doubleday to fill in at the station with two of his brightest students.

Two of the three science stations, the life science and the sensors panel were manned, the third station held in reserve and Seven would sit there when she boarded. Engineering was vacant, but Tuvok knew Torres was already down in engineering making sure the ship's power plant was online when Chakotay asked for it.

The helm, Tom Paris' seat was still vacant. Tuvok knew Chakotay had asked for a special pilot for Voyager now that Paris had again turned down the posting.

"All stations, except helm, is manned and ready, Captain," Tuvok said. Chakotay looked up from the readout on his screen and smiled to his first officer.

"We've come a long way in the past 10 years, haven't we Tuvok?

"Ten years ago you were on my ship as a tactical officer fighting the Federation and Cardassians.

"I was an outlaw and you were a spy. Now here we are," he said nodding to the bridge of Voyager, "commanding the flag ship of an armada with Klingon, Cardassian and Federation ships."

"Yes, captain," Tuvok said, "we do seem to have had an interesting past 10 years."

Just as Chakotay was about to suggest they have a less interesting next 10 years, Janeway entered the bridge with Commander Kim and Seven.

"Admiral on deck," Tuvok said in a raised voice as he and Chakotay stood to receive the admiral.

"As you were," Janeway said to everyone.

She smiled at the two officers who were probably her closest friends, the Vulcan who'd she known and trusted for so long and her first officer of seven years who she'd come to know and trust with her very life.

"Gentlemen," she said, smiling a little as they were dressed alike in Star Fleet red, the new uniforms adopted by the fleet just a few years earlier looked good on them, "are we ready to leave McKinley Station for Deep Space 9?"

"Just about, Admiral," Chakotay said as he double checked the bridge stations. Seven had taken the third science station after giving him a brief smile. Kim had walked over to look at his former position at ops. "I am still waiting on our helmsman. He is scheduled to be here within the hour."

Professor Doubleday took that moment to interrupt. "Captain, a message from DS9 for you."

"Excuse me admiral.

"Put it down here, Commander," he said pointing at his personal screen. He bent down and read the message. He smiled and stood to smile at Janeway. "It seems we're going to have to find our own way to DS9, our helmsman hasn't finished his training aboard the USS Michigan. He says he'll meet us there."

Janeway knew the Michigan was an Intrepid-class ship much like Voyager and while she trusted Chakotay, she hoped the missing helmsman wasn't a portent for the entire mission.

Mr. Tuvok spoke up. "I believe Ensign Quarvis is the back-up helmsman. Shall I call him to the bridge?" Chakotay nodded and Tuvok paged the ensign to the bridge.

Janeway walked around the bridge, touching everything. She'd been this ship's captain for seven years and while she'd been aboard regularly over the past two years, Voyager was again ready to take to deep space. She felt like she'd come home.

The reverie wasn't interrupted by anyone, until she had circled the entire bridge. She came to her command chair and almost sat down out of reflex. Smiling, she put her hand to her mouth and stage whispered to Chakotay "Where do I sit?"

Chakotay covered his grin too. It was something they hadn't though about. He reached over to touch the communication circuit to ship's special services. "Captain Chakotay to Lt. Arlin-Arlin."

"Arlin-Arlin here, sir."

"Lieutenant, could you rig a flag officer's station…" Chakotay saw Janeway nod toward Commander Kim, "…a flag officer's station and an assistant's seat on the bridge while we're enroute to DS9?

"Can do, sir," came the reply. "I'll have it installed during Gamma watch."

Janeway nodded that it was acceptable to her and Chakotay and he told the ship's services office so. Just as he turned off the communicator, Ensign Quarvis entered the bridge. He stopped up short when he realized he'd never met either the captain or the admiral, both of whom he'd heard so much about, and here they both were staring down at him.

Quarvis was one of two Ferengi who had graduated from Star Fleet Academy's most recent class. He had been an excellent student, industrious and honest, focused and driven, much like his distant cousin Lt. Nog.

"Ensign Quarvis reporting for duty, sir," he said, snapping to the position of attention and nearly barking the introduction."

"At ease, ensign." Tuvok said to the young Ferengi. "Please take the helm and plot us a course for Deep Space 9. We need to arrive there in two days."

The ensign didn't visibly relax as he took the helm. He immediately got to work plotting the course he'd been asked to plot, while Janeway and Chakotay made their way to his ready room and Tuvok stepped up to the operations station.

"Course plotted and laid in, Commander Tuvok," Quarvis said after a moment's work at the helm station. After he'd had the course platted and laid in to the computer, he took his seat at the helm and raised the seat eight inches so he could reach all of the controls.

"Thank you, ensign. Stand by." He tapped his chest communicator. "Captain Chakotay."

"Chakotay here," came the faintly metallic voice from the communicator's speaker.

"McKinley Station reports we're clear to exit the station and Earth Station One says we are clear to leave orbit. They have given the helm departure vectors and the helm reports course and speed have been laid in for Deep Space 9."

"Thank you, commander. Please bring us to departure stations and we'll be on the bridge in five minutes."

"Departure stations, aye, sir."

Tuvok moved down to his seat and flipped opened the channel for all call. "Commander Tuvok to all hands. Prepare for departure. All hands to departure stations. Retract all external moorings. Secure all external hatches. Estimated time to departure four point six minutes. Alpha shift will be primary watch for departure." He clicked off the all-call and watched around the bridge as Alpha shift members came to the bridge to replace the temps or gamma shift officers.

Seven remained at the science station as did Quarvis. B'Elanna entered the bridge and transferred engineering functions to her bridge station. Across his situation screen Tuvok watched as green lights lit to inform him of the manned stations. The last one, a station on Deck 36 that was a secondary station to the external thermal emitters, part of the ship's life support functions, finally lit, just seconds before Chakotay and Janeway returned to the bridge.

"All stations report ready for departure, captain," he reported.

Chakotay looked to Janeway who had stopped by Seven's station and got the nod. "Give me all call," he said to Tuvok and the Vulcan tapped the same channel he'd had opened just moments before, then nodded to Chakotay.

"This is the captain. Our mission is to stop a war before it starts…again. I will expect the best performance from every person on this ship, from Crewman Apprentice Shal Aleek-eekloom all the way up to Admiral Janeway." Turning to Ensign Quarvis, still on the ships all call, "Ahead thrusters one-half," and then nodded to Tuvok to turn off the intra-ship.

Looking to Janeway he said, "Here we go."

From McKinley station's commander's office, Fleet Admiral Sukaal watched with Admiral Ho and a host of other dignitaries as Voyager slipped from the station as majestically as it had been escorted in 25 months earlier. Commander Barkley, senior researcher on the Voyager Project commented: "She's a beautiful ship, don't you agree, Admiral?"

"Yes it is, Reg. Let's hope she comes back looking just as good," Ho said.

Aboard Voyager, Janeway had returned to Chakotay's ready room to continue sorting through the gigaquads of information on the Jem'Hadar, the Dominion War and the ships in the armada she now commanded.

After Janeway had cleared the bridge, Chakotay looked over to Tuvok, who was busy checking status of various systems. "It's kind of like having mom along on a field trip, isn't it?" he asked with a wry grin.

Tuvok, missing the joke entirely said "My mother never accompanied me on a 'field trip,' captain."

Chakotay smiled. He wasn't sure if Tuvok had got it or not, but he gave him the benefit of the doubt. "You don't know what you missed." Tuvok looked up from his screen and raised his left eyebrow, but said nothing.

"Ensign Quarvis, take us to warp when we're clear of the planetary defense ring."

"Aye, sir," the ensign replied. "Fifty second until we are clear."

"Signal coming in from Defiant, sir," Doubleday said from operations. "Defiant says his wing is holding station just outside the Oort Cloud, on our trajectory.

"Commander Worf sends his compliments and say's he'd be honored to escort Voyager and her crew to Deep Space 9."

"Return our complements and coordinate with helm. We'll be honored to have the escort," Chakotay said. "Also ask him if he and the other captains in the wing would join us aboard Voyage for the evening meal at 1900 hours."

Doubleday relayed the request to Defiant in few quick taps of the keys. "1900 will be fine, Worf says, captain."

The mission had started in earnest.