Yard Commander's log, Stardate 56349.2: When Voyager first arrived here at Utopia Planitia after her triumphant return to Earth, Starfleet engineers determined that she could not be salvaged. Too many times had repairs requiring a starbase or spacedock been jury rigged in the field. Too extensively was she modified to fit the crew's uniquely changing needs. Simply put: it would be more trouble than it was worth. The Admiralty disagreed. Voyager's crew was furious at the mere suggestion. The engineers were overruled. Now, nearly fourteen months later, her refit is nearing completion.

Essentially, she is unchanged from her original design. The most extensive work, the spaceframe and superstructure repairs, and replacement of the warp core and nacelles, account for the majority of the refit period, as expected. Internal modifications made by the crew to increase sustainability, such as the airponics bays, have been returned to their original configuration. Some other modifications incorporated into newer Intrepid class ships have also been incorporated. The bio-neural networks have been completely replaced. The Astrometrics lab was slightly redesigned to incorporate with the rest of the fleet's newer specifications.

Like all new starships in the last twelve years, the Intrepid class employs a modular design that allows the ships to be easily upgraded over the course of their service lives. The last of these modules were installed last month. Testing of the ship's systems in preparation for her re-launch in six weeks are proceeding as planned and Voyager is projected to re-enter service on schedule.

It will be a difficult time here at U.P., but also a joyous one. Most of the people working on Voyager have become quite attached to her and will be saddened to see her go. But she will go on and serve a new crew as faithfully as the one she brought safely home from the Delta Quadrant.

Admiral Kathryn Janeway looked up from the fleet movements report she was reviewing when she heard the door chime.

"Come in."

The petite but trim brown furred officer she was expecting strode confidently through the door, stopped smartly three paces in front her desk, and stood at attention. Janeway had come all the way out to the frontier specifically to see her.

"Captain Rebecca Cunningham, reporting as ordered, Ma'am."

"At ease, Captain." She gestured to a chair. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you, Admiral." She sat. "Let me say it's truly an honor to meet you."

Janeway sighed. "You know, no matter how often I hear that, I just can't get used to it. I've never thought I did anything special. I protected my crew. I brought as many of them home as I could. Any Starfleet Captain would. Wouldn't you?"

"I'd certainly like to believe I could."

"Believe you could?"

"Between us, Admiral, anyone who answers a question of that magnitude without qualifying it isn't being honest with the person who asked it or with themselves."

Janeway smiled internally. Most new Captains were still unseasoned enough to do precisely that. Her confidence in choosing this one was just given a little boost.

"Of course," she added with a wry smile, "If you'd asked me that on my bridge my answer would've been a lot closer to 'you bet your ass'."

This time Janeway allowed the smile. "Just as it should be."

"May I ask what this is about, Ma'am?"

"We'll get to that in a minute. Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"

The question caught her off guard. "Um…okay. I…graduated Starfleet Academy class of '66. Seventh in my class. My first assignment was a transporter/tractor operator in the main cargo bay on the Saratoga. I'd only been on board seven months when we fought the Borg at Wolf 359."

"You were injured rather severely, were you not?"

"Yes ma'am. I suffered extensive spinal injuries. I was sent to Starbase 515 to receive treatment. The doctors there told me I would never walk again. I returned to active duty in eleven months."

"Impressive. You also…lost your first husband in that encounter?"

Cunningham winced ever so slightly, but otherwise did not react.

"Yes, ma'am. We met at the Academy, and celebrated our first anniversary just a few weeks before. I'd learned I was pregnant that morning. I…never got the chance to tell him.

"While I was recovering, I trained as a pilot."

The change in subject was as subtle as a warp core breach. She had used that technique on Chakotay a time or two when discussing Mark. She knew what it meant, and knew better than to press.

"A lot of sitting involved in pilot training, and since I was doing precisely that at the time, it seemed to make sense. I was assigned as helm officer on the Phoenix a few months after the incident with Captain Maxwell and the Cardassians. I worked my way up to second officer, and was then offered the XO position on the USS Cowpens after Commander Sinclair was killed at Chin'Toka."

"Ah yes, the Cowpens. I'd like to ask you about the Yenkaran incident."

"Admiral, may I point out that the board of inquiry cleared me in that incident at warp 9."

"Yes, I know they did. I want to hear it anyway."

Rebecca held back a sigh. "We were on our standard patrol in sector 1138. You know how it is for a border cruiser. We run a traditional dogged watch, not the standard Starfleet High-Low. I was on duty as middle watch commander when sensors detected a Corvallan freighter just outside Federation space running a course parallel to the border. I was immediately suspicious and ordered the helm to lay in an intercept course. Only a few moments later, the Captain came out of the ready room and ordered me to break off and resume our normal patrol. When I asked why, he told me it was a classified matter."

"But you didn't let it go at that?"

"At that moment I did. But I smelled something fishy. You see, I hadn't reported the freighter. I hadn't seen the need to disturb him just yet. So unless he'd been monitoring bridge audio, which I found highly unlikely, the only way he could've known we'd changed course is if the freighter had contacted him. They must have started screaming at him the moment we turned towards.

"However, I didn't say anything seeing as how I had nothing more than my suspicions. Especially considering I'd only been on board about a year. But when I got off duty, I went to one of the science labs and rerouted an auxiliary long-range sensor feed to my quarters so I could monitor the Corvallans. When they crossed the border, their course indicated they could be headed only for Yenkara."

Janeway leaned forward and folded her hands on the desk.

"A world inhabited by a primitive Bronze Age species clearly under protection from the Prime Directive, but also by an animal species prized on the black market for their unique and luxurious pelt."

"Exactly," Rebecca responded. "I went to the Captain and told him what I'd found. He all but accused me of being a traitor and told me that if I didn't drop it he'd have me thrown in the brig for insubordination and maybe even mutiny. It was an overreaction. It didn't make any sense. Unless he was protecting that freighter. So I went back to my quarters and began scouring the subspace communication logs. It took several days, but I was able to find the transmission from the Corvallan freighter directly to the Captain's Ready Room via tight beam, bypassing the main systems so that it would go unnoticed. I immediately went to the bridge and charged him with conspiracy. I told him I was assuming command and ordered our Security Chief to place him under arrest. That didn't exactly work out as I'd planned.

"The Captain looked at the Chief, and I knew right away they were in on it together. He relieved me of duty and the Chief escorted me to the brig. As we exited the turbolift, I managed to get the drop on him, disarm him, and stun him. But I was stupid. I returned to the bridge. A firefight ensued. The holes in the bulkhead indicated the Captain's phaser was set to level 10. As high as he could go without risking a hull breach. And his first shot disabled the lift controls. I was trapped in there. I should've been killed. But I got lucky. Commander Avery and I went to the Academy together. And while the rest of the bridge crew froze with indecision, he grabbed a phaser from the starboard storage locker and took the Captain out. It took a few minutes to sort things out and explain what was going on to the bridge crew.

"I ordered us to Yenkara at maximum warp. We got there just as the Corvallans were leaving the system. I arrested the crew, relieved them of their illegal cargo, and took their ship in tow back to Outpost 4 and turned the whole shebang over to Starfleet Security."

Janeway nodded. "Captain Deakens and Petty Officer Sunday were both court-martialed and convicted of violating the Prime Directive, and conspiracy to commit poaching. You received the Order of Merit and were given command of the Cowpens."

"Yes, Ma'am. But you could've read all this in my jacket. In fact, I'm reasonably certain you have. Why have me tell you what you already know?"

Janeway didn't answer with anything more than an inscrutable smile.

"How do you like commanding the Cowpens?"

Janeway didn't fail to notice the slight hesitation before her answer.

"I like it fine, Admiral. She's a fine ship. With a fine crew."

"But?"

Rebecca hesitated a moment more. "May I speak candidly, Admiral?"

"By all means."

"I joined Starfleet for the adventure. The excitement. To explore new worlds. To seek out new civilizations. All the things in the recruiting posters. The Cowpens serves a vital function in protecting our borders. She's a noble ship with a noble crew. I'm proud to command her. But Admiral…and I don't think I need to explain this to you…she's not a starship. And all I've ever wanted to do is command a starship."

Janeway regarded her sternly for several long moments.

"Captain Cunningham…I am relieving you of your command of the Cowpens."

Rebecca shot out of her seat. "Admiral-."

Janeway held her hand up to silence the outburst. "Our conversation has convinced me that you have no business being in command of that ship, an opinion I was already relatively certain of when you walked in here. I believe I have no choice but to reassign you."

Rebecca assumed a position of attention. "That is your right, Admiral. But I will officially protest this."

"If you feel that's necessary, go ahead and try it. But I can guarantee you that Command will back up my decision."

"Nevertheless, I will protest."

"Fine." Janeway stood. "Captain Rebecca Cunningham, you are hereby relieved of your command of the border cruiser USS Cowpens. You are hereby reassigned to Utopia Planitia shipyards-."

"Admiral!" She would resign before taking a desk job.

Janeway continued as though Rebecca hadn't spoken. "-Where you will oversee the final preparations for the re-commissioning of the USS Voyager, and upon completion of her refit, will officially take command."

Janeway relished the sight of Rebecca standing before her, whatever sentence of protestation she was about to form cut off just beneath her vocal cords, utter shock on her face and in her eyes. She raised her eyebrows.

"However, I'm sure that Command will consider your protest. That is...if you still wish to file it."

Rebecca stammered for a moment. "No, ma'am. I…I…don't think that will be necessary."

Janeway gave her the warm smile that so many of her friends and compatriots were accustomed to. She came around the desk and extended her hand. Rebecca took it.

"Congratulations, Captain. You were highly recommended, but I couldn't let anyone take command of my ship without talking to them first."

"Admiral, I…I don't know what to say."

"How about…'yes'?"

Rebecca laughed giddily. "Yes!"

Captain's personal log, Stardate 56349.5: I have no words to articulate my feelings on being assigned to command Voyager. It is not just a lifelong dream come true. It is a responsibility and a burden greater than what I'm entirely sure just how to handle. On top of the obvious ramifications, Admiral Janeway informed me that a sizable percentage of her Delta Quadrant crew have asked for, and been granted, reassignment. So not only must I live up to the reputation of the ship, I must live up to the crew's expectations of their legendary Captain. But first, I must deal with a more personal issue.

"You're doing what?!"

Becky stood in the middle of their quarters on Outpost 4.

"I'm not doing anything. We're going to Mars."

"And you just made that decision for both of us?"

"You'd have me turn down command of Voyager?"

"I didn't say that!"

"Well then what are you saying?"

"I don't know. I just…"

"Just what?"

"I just…I don't like what this means for us."

"You want a divorce? Is that what you're saying?"

"No! No, not at all. Never. And Mars isn't the problem. It's Voyager."

"What about her?"

"Beckers…right now we can be together. Your patrol schedule is regular. You're back here every few days. We see each other regularly. If you're commanding Voyager…that all goes away. You'll be gone for months…years at a time. What kind of a relationship can you have like that?"

She opened her mouth, but at first nothing came out.

"I admit, that wasn't my first thought. But it can be done."

"It wasn't your first thought because your career came first. Like always."

"Baloo, that's not fair. I have a stable, progressive career. You don't."

"So what I do is less important."

"That's not what I mean, and you know it. What you do is more flexible. A career in Starfleet is a directed one. There are a limited number of paths to choose. And this choice will put me in a position to help shape the very future of the entire Federation! I'm not trying to minimize what you do. But surely you realize what this means."

"I realize what it means. Do you?"

"Of course I do!"

"Do you? It means that we can't be together."

"Why?"

"You can be friends with someone you only see once every few months. You can't be in a relationship with them. It doesn't work. I may not know a lot. But I know that."

"You don't think I considered that? Of course I did. I just said it wasn't my first thought. And I discussed it with Admiral Janeway. What if you came with me?"

"You know as well as I Starfleet put the kibosh on families on starships when the Dominion War started."

"Not if they serve a vital function."

Baloo laughed. "And what vital function could I serve?"

"Voyager didn't have power for full replicator usage. So they built a galley. Cooked real food as much as they could. Starfleet wants to try the idea to see how it affects morale. So they left Voyager's galley intact. We'd need a cook."

"You want me to be a cook?!"

Becky looked at the floor. She spoke softly. "Baloo…I have to take this opportunity. Not just because turning it down would relegate me to command of freighters and garbage scows, but because it's what I was born for. You drift from odd job to odd job, working only when you get bored. You can do that anywhere. And on Voyager, you would have a purpose. Don't you think you would feel good to have a purpose, even if it was just being a cook?" She looked up at him. "Especially if it meant the difference between us being together or not being together?"

He sighed heavily. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I could. But what about the Duck?"

"The Duck's no bigger than a type 6 shuttle. We can take her on board."

He regarded her for a long moment.

"Well?"

Baloo shrugged and laughed. "Guess we're goin' to Mars."

"You have got to be kidding me."

"No. I'm dead serious."

"Have you completely lost your mind? You can't ship out again!"

"B'Elanna, I'm going crazy here! You know how much I hate being tied to one spot."

"And what am I supposed to do? I hope you don't expect me to go back to Starfleet."

"Of course not."

"Or back into space."

"No."

"Then what? You just decide to do this all on your own?"

"I haven't decided anything yet. But the Admiral offered me the second officer's position on Voyager. And she said she'd recommend me to the new Captain for the XO's chair. How many newly minted Lieutenant Commanders get a shot at XO on a starship?"

B'Elanna took a deep breath and reigned her temper in. "Okay. I see your point. But that still doesn't answer the question of what I'm going to do. Not to mention you'll be leaving me to raise Miral on my own. She's not old enough to remember you yet, Tom. Do you want her to grow up never knowing her father?"

"Of course I don't. But we can figure something out. Can't we at least try it? I can always ask Admiral Janeway to make the assignment temporary at first. And if it doesn't work, I can come back."

She hesitated. "How long until you would have to report?"

"Depends. As second officer, the week before the re-launch. If the new Captain accepts Janeway's recommendation for me as First Officer, it'd be ASAP."

"So I don't have much time to think about this."

Tom laid his hands on her shoulders. "B'Elanna…if you don't want me to do this, I won't. And I'd never hold it against you. All of this is secondary to us. Our marriage will always come first."

"No. I owe it to you to at least consider it. You'd do the same for me."

He kissed her forehead. "That's just one of the many reasons why I love you."

Rebecca walked down the hall in the Academy dorm. Memories of her time here swam through her head and she was filled with a sweet nostalgia. She came to the appropriate door and rapped on it smartly.

"Just a sec," came a muffled voice from the other side. A few moments later the door swung open and the face of the yellow furred cadet on the other side filled with shock and pleasure.

"Mom!" She wrapped her arms joyfully around Rebecca. They held each other tightly for a moment. They hadn't seen each other since Molly left Outpost 4for the Academy six months ago.

"Whatever are you doing here on Earth? It must've taken the Cowpens three months to get here! And the gap it leaves in the border protection…"

"I'm not on the Cowpens. I was brought here on the Excalibur by Admiral Janeway."

The look on her face made it clear she didn't understand.

"She relieved me. I'm no longer in command of the Cowpens."

Molly was appalled. "But why?"

She paused a dramatic moment. "Because they've given me Voyager."

"Mom, that's great!" She hugged her again and they laughed together. "How long until you ship out?"

"The re-launch is in six weeks. Then another six to twelve week shakedown cruise. I'll be based at U.P. until then."

"We'll get to see each other all the time!"

"Not exactly. I'll be very busy getting Voyager ready. And you'd better be busy getting straight A's. I don't mind you graduating higher than me, but you'd better not graduate lower." She gave her daughter a chuck on the shoulder. "But yes, we'll certainly get to see each other a lot more than if I was halfway across the Federation. Now, are you going to invite me in, or are you going to leave a senior officer standing in the corridor?"

Captain's log, Stardate 56391.3: Preparations for Voyager's re-launch are nearly complete. All Department Heads have reported that their sections are ready for the ship's departure tomorrow. There is a heavy excitement in the air. A palpable sense of expectation. Commander Lefler has requested to be allowed to proceed past warp 1 if the initial tuning tests are nominal. Lieutenant T'Prin has objected to leaving spacedock armed only with phasers and Doctor Tyson has objected to leaving spacedock without a proper medical staff on board. They both cite the incident during the launch of the Enterprise-B and have requested I note their objections in the ship's log. Those objections are duly noted.

Personal log, supplemental: I am excited, but also wary. Voyager is a huge step up from a border cruiser. I am confident in my ability to effectively command this ship, but I would by lying if I said I didn't entertain a few doubts here and there. Most of them involve my crew. For those who are returning, I have a lot to live up to. But my biggest concern currently rests with my new Security Chief. Lieutenant T'Prin is the archetypal Vulcan. Despite this, I get the distinct impression she has an emotional issue being under my command.

I am also concerned about Lieutenant Hansen. Admiral Janeway informed me that she resumed using her human name when so many people reacted negatively to her Borg designation. It was also why she asked to be reassigned to Voyager. Now I'm no more xenophobic than any other Starfleet Officer, but I can understand the reaction. Wolf 359 was hell. And the terror and helplessness of floating around in that escape pod with a shattered spine while the Borg cut half the Star Fleet to pieces is indescribable. Xenophobia has nothing to do with it. It is prudent caution learned at devastating cost.

Starfleet Medical was able to remove the remainder of her external implants, and Command granted her a commission. But I'm just not sure that cleaning her up and sticking her in a Starfleet uniform can remedy that caution. The Admiral assures me she is absolutely dependable and completely trustworthy. I appreciate the advice, and I'm going to give her every chance in the universe, but I'm afraid I'll have to make that judgement on my own.

"Bridge to Captain Cunningham."

She looked up from her log.

"Go ahead."

"Ensign Cloudkicker has just come aboard."

"Excellent. Have him report to my Ready Room immediately."

"Yes, Ma'am."

Only a minute or so later, the door chime sounded. She stood.

"Enter."

The doors slid open and the tall lanky Ensign stepped inside, his duffel still slung over his shoulder. He stopped in front of her desk, set the duffel on the deck, and snapped to attention.

"Ensign Kit Cloudkicker reporting for duty, Captain." He held out an isolinear chip. "My orders."

She took the chip and set it on her desk, regarding him icily.

"Your orders, Ensign, were to report in two weeks ago."

"Yes, Ma'am. The Venture got caught in a plasma storm while we were in the Gamma Quadrant. The starboard power transfer conduit ruptured and we had to limp back under impulse power. We only got back to DS9 a few days ago. Took me that long to get here."

"There's this new thing called warp drive, Ensign. Perhaps you've heard of it?"

"Colonel Kira had a runabout standing by for me, Captain. I got here as soon as I was able."

"I hope you aren't under the impression that tardiness will be acceptable on this ship."

"No Ma'am! Of course not! And with all due respect I think it's unreasonable to hold me responsible for a situation not under my control."

Rebecca stalked around the desk and stood next to him, arms crossed tightly across her chest. She fixed a furious gaze upon him. Cloudkicker's eyes were focused dead ahead.

"Ensign, you need to understand that I will be holding you to a higher standard than the rest of the crew, is that clear?"

He hesitated briefly, unsure how to respond.

"Is. That. Clear?"

"As a bell, Captain."

"Good." She smiled and held out her arms. "Now gimmie a hug."

Kit sighed in relief and relaxed. He hugged her tightly. Rebecca chuckled.

"Had you going there, didn't I?"

"You sure did."

She broke the embrace but continued to hold him by the shoulders and looked him over.

"How have you been? You look good."

"I feel good. The Venture's a blast. Pushing the edges of the Gamma Quadrant. Tip of the spear. It's been a great year. Command's impressed with me. Last eval the XO said I was a lock for jay-gee when the next round of promotions came up."

"Kit, that's great!"

"Of course, that's probably going to change now."

"I'll contact the Venture and have the XO pass that on to Commander Avery if he didn't note it in your FitRep."

She hugged him tightly again before finally letting him go.

"I'll have you know it wasn't easy to pry you away from there. But Captain Henderson owed me a favor." She regarded him carefully for a moment. "Kit…are you sure you're okay serving under me? You know how a ship's grapevine is. It'll be common knowledge Baloo and I raised you in about five minutes. It will be clear very quickly there's no favoritism going on. I was serious when I said I'd be holding you to a higher standard. But there may still be crew who are uncomfortable with it. And of course, I want to be sure you're comfortable with it."

He smiled sideways at her. "I've been taking your orders since I was 12, Captain. Why should I feel funny about it now?"

She smiled back and patted him on the shoulder. "You make a good point, Ensign. Now square your gear away. Your quarters are on deck 5, cabin 7. Then meet me in the mess hall. I haven't told Baloo you'd be coming aboard; I wanted it to be a surprise. He'll be so happy to see you."

He snapped off a salute. "Aye aye, Cap'n."

Rebecca stepped out of her Ready Room and onto the bridge precisely at 0900. Her towering human First Officer rose from his seat in the Command Center.

"Captain on the bridge!" he barked. Everyone stood and turned towards her.

"As you were." She looked the bridge over. T'Prin at Tactical, Paris at Ops, Kit at the Helm, Lefler at Engineering, Hansen at the Auxiliary station behind the command area. Dr. Tyson was seated at Science 1, his holographic nature betrayed only by the mobile emitter strapped to his left arm. She strode towards her chair. "Commander Avery, status?"

"Crew ready for departure, Captain."

"Lieutenant Commander Lefler?"

"Engineering ready, Captain. SIF and IDF systems at 100 percent. Warp and impulse engines standing by."

"Lieutenant Commander Paris?"

"Main sensors, environmental controls, gravity generation, and bio-neural networks all within normal parameters, Captain."

"Lieutenant T'Prin?"

"Tactical systems nominal, Captain. Phasers available at full power, if required. May I remind the Captain that we are not currently armed with either photon or quantum torpedoes?"

Cunningham stifled her annoyed reaction, despite being within her rights to dress the icy Lieutenant down. She didn't believe the bridge to be the proper setting.

"Your objection is noted Lieutenant." But neither would she completely let her off the hook. "Again," she added sternly. "Lieutenant Hansen?"

"All auxiliary systems are operational and standing by, Captain."

"Doctor?"

"Sickbay is fully prepared to handle anything the universe might throw at us." He lowered his voice. "Except for having a staff, that is."

The Doctor's statement was more comment than complaint and was spoken in a barely audible quasi-respectful aside, and as she had so far gotten along with him well, she let it go. She turned to the helm.

"Ensign Cloudkicker?"

"Helm controls ready and standing by, Captain."

"Lt. T'Prin, the Harbormaster please."

"Channel open."

"Utopia Planitia, this is Voyager, ready for departure."

"Departure clearance granted, Voyager. May the wind be at your back."

"Thank you very much, Planitia. Voyager out. Mr. Paris, disengage mooring beams."

"Mooring beams disengaged."

"Mr. Cloudkicker, aft thrusters ahead one-quarter, port and starboard thrusters at station-keeping."

Kit's fingers flew expertly over his station. "Aft thrusters ahead one-quarter, port and starboard at station-keeping."

Voyager eased slowly out of the encapsulating arms of the spacedock. Spectators crowded every room with a view and all were cheering boisterously.

"Captain, we've cleared spacedock."

"Thank you, Ensign. Set course 020 mark 071, full impulse."

"Course plotted and laid in."

Rebecca eased into the command seat. She had specifically avoided sitting in it the last six weeks, waiting for this moment. A surge of pride and accomplishment flowed through her. It took maximum effort to keep the smile from her face.

"Execute."

The stars began to creep past the viewscreen as the ship surged forward. Rebecca leaned back and crossed her legs.

"Commander Lefler, warp speed at your discretion. Let's get her dialed in."

Captain's log, Stardate 56392.7: Today's test flight exceeded all expectations. Commander Lefler and her team were able to tune the engines up to warp 4. That places us several days ahead of schedule. The remainder of the ship's compliment will arrive in two days and the quantum torpedo magazine will be loaded the day after that, bringing the ship to, in theory, full operational status. The engineers here at Utopia Planitia expect the ship to be ready to return to service in two weeks. It is my understanding that a pool is being formed aboard to see who can predict just how far ahead of that mark Commander Lefler can hit. I'll be placing my money on eight days.

Next episode: "To Catch a Pirate"