DISCLAIMER: I don't own Star Trek. That's all Paramount. I'm just borrowing the characters, and I promise to return them by midnight, fed, clean, and unharmed. Mostly.
Captain Kathryn Janeway sat in her bedroom at 2200 hours, finishing her paperwork. It had been a long day, and they were still no closer to finding a way home. She leaned back in her desk chair and sighed. This mountain of paperwork wouldn't finish itself, but she was exhausted. She could hardly keep her eyes open, let alone fill out these ridiculous forms. She supposed it was probably best to take a break, so she made her way to the replicator in her room.
"Coffee," she instructed it. "Hot, black."
The machine dispensed her drink and she removed the mug carefully. She loved the warm, comforted feeling she got from the heady aroma.
As she lifted the hot liquid to her lips to take a drink, the ship shuddered violently, forcing her to drop the cup and throw her hands out in front of herself as she fell to keep her face from hitting the floor. The stack of papers slid off her desk and fluttered to the carpet, a small glass paperweight collided with the left side of her face just above her ear on its way down. The lights went out, and books cascaded from their shelves by her bed. After a moment, the shaking subsided. She pushed herself off of the floor and stood slowly. The power still had not come back on.
"Janeway to bridge!" she called. There was no reply. "Janeway to bridge, report! Can anyone hear me?"
Feeling a sense of panic rise in her chest, she strode to the door of her bedroom, expecting to open and allow her to leave. She frowned.
"Computer, open the door to my quarters." The door remained closed. "Computer, respond," she barked, reaching for the control panel beside the door and tapping at it. She wasn't strong enough to pry the door open, she knew that, but perhaps she could—with a loud whirr, the power returned, and Captain Janeway breathed a sigh of relief, though she knew they weren't out of the woods yet. She still had to make for the bridge and ensure that her crew was alright. She exited her room and walked down the hall, noting no evidence of whatever had just happened. When she reached the bridge, the doors slid open.
"Mr. Chakotay, is-"
She gasped. This was not right. These were not her crew members. A Klingon stood at a console to her right, glaring at her warily. An android sat at the ship controls, a man with brown hair, a mustache and beard sat in her captain's chair, and a slender, exotic looking brunette sat beside him in the chair to his right. Her heart pounded in her chest, and a cold sweat broke out over her brow.
"What the hell are you all doing on my ship?" she growled.
"This is not your ship," the Klingon replied angrily. "This is the U.S.S Starship Enterprise-D. Who are you?"