Hi all! Thank you for reading me. Let's get down to business.
Disclaimers: I am not the boss of the Star Trek franchise, the starship Voyager, or any of its crew, nor do I make any money from writing about them. I would, however, like to thank their real bosses for allowing us to play and explore further possibilities with their fine creations.
Special notes and requests:
A- Being that this is my first Voyager fic (the scientific/technical components are especially scary), any and all comments you might have for me would be greatly appreciated.
B-I would also like to note that, while I take great care in correcting my texts, English is still my second language, so if you happen to notice any mistakes, I would be grateful for you to point them out to me.
Please be honest in your comments. I genuinely want to improve my writing, and I really want my stories to be entertaining!
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Stardate 54073.1
Act One
"All right, Captain, hold still!"
The woman in question stifled a groan as a hypospray was pressed to her neck. The doctor's overly cheerful demeanor, as usual during these monthly appointments, grated on her nerves. It was bad enough that she'd had to live with her condition since birth. That she had to be regularly reminded of it by a singing hologram was nearly intolerable.
During the first four years of her life, the exceedingly rare genetic disorder had warranted continuous 'intensive' reeducation treatments, in a highly specialized facility, in order to control the strange agents that continuously destabilized her genetic matrix. In her opinion, the word 'intensive' was an insult, barely conveying the excruciating pain of her body battling against the poisonous medications. Thinking back on it, it reminded her of more barbaric times when harmful radiations and chemicals were used to treat diseases such as cancer, trading deadly illness for toxic misery. Every medical expert, along with her parents, had said that she couldn't possibly remember those treatments, that she had been too young. But she was convinced that she did. The sensation of having every cell in her body burn, then collapse unto itself, then rise from their ashes and start all over again, was one she could never forget.
After those first stages of physiological and neurological development, her genetic pattern had more or less stabilized, and she'd been sent home with her parents and the milder daily maintenance doses of medicine. By the time she'd reached adulthood, only monthly doses were required to keep her DNA stable, and the overall sensations of bone and skin disintegrating had been replaced by steady migraines. She thought it a pretty good trade. And no one outside her family, save her doctors, knew about her disease, not even Starfleet. Especially not Starfleet. The last thing she wanted from her superiors was to be labeled "sick". Such labels usually came with pity, and people rarely trusted people they pitied with important assignments. No, this was her secret, and she planned to keep it that way.
"There you are, Captain, all done! Your genomes continue to behave themselves beautifully."
"Thank you, Doctor."
It was still shy of six o'clock in the morning. Grinding her teeth against the momentary flash of fire through her veins, she set her captain's mask firmly into place and marched straight to the bridge.
Act Two
"Report!
- That last volley took out our weapons, Captain! Shields are down to 12 percent.
- Reroute auxiliary power to the shields. Tom, keep trying to break us out of their ships' formation.
- Yes Ma'am!
- Bridge to Engineering. B'Elanna, how long until the warp engine is back online?
- That last hit didn't leave me much to work with, Captain. I need at least ten minutes!"
Wham!
"You've got less than two. Do whatever it takes to get us out of here, Lieutenant. We can repair the damage later.
- I'll see what I can do. Torres out."
Well, what a lovely day this is turning out to be, Janeway mused.
About an hour earlier, they had just been sailing along, minding their own business, when they'd detected a small damaged freighter in their path. Further scans had suggested that the few crewmen aboard were wounded. They were of a species they'd never encountered before. She had given orders to stop and hail them. Upon receiving an answer, she had introduced herself as Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager, as was dictated by protocol, before offering her assistance to the aliens.
Unfortunately, the green-horned aliens had panicked almost immediately, screaming at her to leave them alone while frantically tapping the same button and sending some sort of signal into subspace. It was almost funny. Ensign Kim had compared the signal to Earth's Morse code. Never one to outstay her welcome, the captain had apologized to the aliens for disturbing them and quickly ordered her helmsman to resume course. As a precaution, she had also ordered continuous scans of the region, in case whatever had spooked them was still around. Normally, she relished a challenge, but for once, she'd secretly hoped that that would be the end of it. Her early morning gene therapy had left her with a worse headache than usual, and she could have sworn her blood was still seething.
For approximately fifty-six minutes, it had looked as though they were going to get away with it. They had been travelling at warp 6, which was enough to outrun most of the ships they had encountered so far, with no sign of life other than their own. And then, out of nowhere, a squadron of twelve small ships had popped out of subspace, instantly surrounding Voyager. Without so much as a hello, the alien fleet had opened fire. Janeway had reacted immediately to defend her ship, but the alien weapons were exceptionally powerful. In between hits, Seven of Nine, from her post in Astrometrics, had verified that the ships held the same markings as the freighter they had encountered earlier, and that their attackers were of the same species. Janeway knew that the alien squadron was most likely responding to the distressed message the freighter had sent into subspace, but thought there was little she could do about it now. When none of the alien ships had responded to her hails, she'd concentrated on defending what was hers, and ordered Lieutenant Tuvok to keep firing.
And now, she thought, here we are, Voyager's structural integrity hanging on by the proverbial thread, its engineering team making little progress with the engine that would have allowed them to escape to safety (not that she blamed them, considering the circumstances), and worst of all, the longest casualty list she'd had since the Caretaker had pulled their vessel into the Delta Quadrant. Though she never stopped guiding her crew's defensive efforts into a strategic whole, some small part of her registered that this time, they were in over their heads. After all she and her crew had been through, they were being demolished by these merciless strangers in four minutes flat, and she didn't even know why.
Ignoring the searing pain of her blood boiling in her temples, she offered a small prayer to the gods she didn't believe in, set her jaw and kept right on fighting.
Act Three
There was a brilliant flash of green, and the alien squadron momentarily ceased fire. Out of that flash, and right in front of Voyager, emerged another, rounder vessel. For a moment that seemed like an eternity, it just floated there, and time seemed to stop. Though Voyager's scans couldn't penetrate its hull, the visible markings on it were radically different from those of the attacking squadron, or for that matter, any other vessel they had encountered before. And then, just as suddenly, sharp yellow rays shot out of the new ship and reached half of the enemy ships, causing them to instantly black out. It was as if they had suffered an instant power failure. The remaining ships took the hint, put a tractor beam on their damaged friends, and fled the vicinity. Back on Voyager, it seemed that the bulkheads themselves were deeply sighing in relief. Their rescuers hailed.
Releasing the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, the captain nodded, signaling Harry to open a channel. The image on the viewscreen shifted to reveal the fresh female face of their benefactor. "Good morning, there! You know, you shouldn't get yourselves into armed conflicts before breakfast. It's bad for the digestion."
Kathryn didn't know what surprised her more: the young woman's cavalier attitude towards the near destruction of her ship, or her startling resemblance to humans. Her creamy skin showed just the hint of freckles, and her fiery red curls framed a delicate face and mischievous amber-blue eyes. As unique as they were, there was something vaguely familiar about those eyes. Lost in her contemplation of this stranger, Janeway nearly forgot to answer her. "Thanks for the advice. Don't get me wrong, we're grateful for the rescue, but… who are you?" Their rescuer laughed, and Kathryn couldn't help but stare. Though there was definitely something exotic about her features, she couldn't shake the feeling that this woman looked so human.
Still laughing with her eyes, the stranger finally answered, "Yes, of course, where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Captain Janeway. And you are?"
And voilĂ ! The stage is set.
So, what do you think so far? Good, bad or indifferent, please review!
