Author's note:

In my first Voyager fic, I had a look at a possible storyline of the Equinox crew, which necessitated the watching of the episodes a few times to get a handle on the Equinox characters. While I liked the Equinox episodes, I found myself noticing one thing – that all throughout the story, Janeway always had the upper hand over Ransom, for the simple reason that Voyager had lots of firepower and food and crew and all that, and Equinox did not. So, like any good fanfic author, I found myself wondering: what would have happened if it had been more of an equal matchup?

Then another idea occurred to me, which will become apparent as you read this, and mixing the two together seemed promising...so here we are.

Captain's log, Stardate 52365.1

After mapping a small nebula, Voyager has currently entered a section of space inhabited by a species known as the Latarrans. Fortunately for us, they were friendly and welcoming.

We docked at the Latarran home planet for a week. The crew was given shore leave. I've been to the surface of the planet myself, for a few days. It's nice to give the crew a break, and nicer to get one myself. The Latarrans were quite willing to trade food for dilithium ore, and just in time, too. I'd heard grumbles of mutiny if Neelix served leola root stew one more time.

At the request of the Latarran government, we are currently bringing some medical supplies to a Latarran colony. Normally, we could make it there in two days, but the Latarrans maintain a speed limit of warp five, much as Starfleet used to. While this holds us up a bit, I've elected to follow Latarran law. There seems to be no need to antagonize a friendly species.

The Latarrans have warned us of a violent race called the Karnaii, who claim the Latarran colony as their own. Apparently, the Latarrans were forced to evacuate it a few hundred years ago, and when they returned to reclaim it, the Karnaii who had settled there reacted angrily. Although the Latarrans offered humanitarian aid and resettlement help, the Karnaii fought back viciously. They have attacked colonists and ships in the area and treat captives barbarously, according to the reports they showed me. So far, sensors have shown nothing.

All the same, the crew is noticeably refreshed, and so am I. A week on Latarra Prime has done us a world of good. They had beautiful beaches and mountains, and the people were wonderfully friendly and open. So we're proceeding with caution but not fear.

She felt refreshed, and it wasn't just her coffee. No, the week spent on Latarra Prime had revitalized the crew. It had been nice to spend a few days as just plain Kathryn Janeway; it made it much easier to be the shields-up, infallible captain of the Voyager. The Latarrans were wonderfully civilized people. They'd wanted to know what Voyager had been doing in their section of space, but once they had exchanged pleasantries, they'd been warm and accepting.

If they'd been at maximum warp, they could have been at the Latarran colony by now, but as it was, they had three more days. It didn't really bother her, though. Paris loved to fly the ship at maximum warp, but he would just have to survive at warp five. It didn't bother her.

It was pleasant in a way they didn't often get to experience. They knew where they were going, they'd been warmly welcomed where they had just left, and they knew there was a warm welcome waiting for them where they were going. Those were small things, but all too rare in the Delta Quadrant.

She watched the bridge function smoothly around her, feeling content and good for the first time in a while. All she needed now was a top-up of her coffee to make this perfect.

Tuvok frowned over his console. "Captain, I am reading a high level of radioactive particles, suggesting a recent battle, at bearing two seven one mark two." After a moment, he added, "Confirmed. The patterns of radiation and debris indicate a battle. One ship appears to be functional and moving at low impulse. Whatever others there may have been have been destroyed."

She turned her head and frowned. "Distance?"

"Four light years."

She frowned. Good mood gone, just like that. "Is it a Latarran ship?"

"No." Harry Kim answered the question. "The course we're on is part of the standard Latarran shipping lane." He consulted his console and tapped a few keys. "There have been some Karnaii attacks on freighters recently, so Latarran military ships are on patrol. Nothing on the public bands. Their military frequencies are encrypted, so if it's a military ship, we wouldn't know about it."

She thought for only a second. "Let's have a look. Tom, change course to intercept, maximum warp. Go to Yellow Alert."

"Course change, two seven one mark two, aye. Maximum warp," Tom repeated, his hands moving deftly over the helm. The whine of the engines increased in intensity. Inertial dampers kept them from the worst of the acceleration, but left them enough to feel the change in speed.

Janeway took a pull at her coffee. The pleasant, easy feeling of a milk run to an allied colony was gone. Instead, the crew took on the same watchful mien that she felt. Was the ship disabled or simply damaged? Was it a Latarran ship sticking to its military frequencies? Or perhaps a Karnaii raider, trying to get away? She'd have to be careful; the Latarrans had warned her about their enemies.

Several tense minutes passed. Then finally, the ship was visible on sensors. At first it was just a spark amongst the darkness of space. As they drew closer, Janeway frowned. As they got close enough to see the ship, she stood up in shock and her jaw dropped. She didn't need to worry about her crew seeing it; they were identically awed.

The ship was green. Sparks flew from hull breaches, and visible gas, or plasma, jetted from a few places on its hull. The shape was familiar to Janeway, and Chakotay would know it as well; any Starfleet officer who had been through command school knew it.

Tuvok said it first.

"Captain, the vessel...appears to be a Klingon Bird-of-Prey. The K'Vort class."

The scars on the ship indicated it had just seen combat. But there was much about this ship that made Janeway gawp at the viewscreen. Along one side, something long and thin and curved had been neatly if crudely welded to the side. She could see the marks of where it had been attached. It reminded her of old medical texts she'd seen, when doctors actually used needle and thread to sew up wounds instead of using a protoplaser.

The impulse engine in the back of the cruiser did not appear to be standard, either. It fit where it should, but she could see where engineers had pried apart part of the hull to make it fit. But the stunning thing, the truly mind-boggling thing, was that the impulse engine did not glow orange. It glowed as blue as Voyager's own. The thing attached to the wing was a phaser strip, much like those mounted on Voyager's hull.

The Klingon ship had been rebuilt with Federation technology.

"Hail them," Janeway managed.

Questions tumbled through her brain. What was a Klingon ship doing out here? Had they been kidnapped by the Caretaker? Where had they gotten the Federation technology? What the hell was going on here?

Then the screen changed to reveal the Klingon captain. He was as she expected: a tall, muscular, dour Klingon. He eyed her with some distrust. Simple memorization came to her aid; she wasn't sure what to think.

"This is Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation starship Voyager," she recited. "Do you require assistance?"

Even as the words left her mouth she knew it was the wrong thing to say. A Klingon would deny needing assistance even if he was hanging over a cliff by one hand. The Klingon watched her cautiously for a moment.

"I am...Captain Koth of the Klingon ship Vor'moch," he rumbled. "I do not require assistance. Our engineers are making repairs."

For a moment Janeway was tempted to cut the connection and let him go about his merry way. Then she saw the man standing next to him – clearly the first officer. He was staring at the screen in utter shock.

Like the captain, this man had long hair, tied back in a steel-gray queue down his back. Like the captain, he had the somewhat shaggy goatee that was affected almost universally by Klingon warriors. His face was thin and his eyes were hard. A disruptor pistol hung at his side. But the uniform he wore was not a Klingon uniform – it was Starfleet. The red shoulders were dirty and stained and had gone almost as dark as the black underneath from years of wear. But it was a Starfleet uniform, no doubt. The delta-shaped combadge on his chest glittered in the faint light of the Klingon bridge. His forehead was as smooth and bare of ridges as any of her crew.

He was human. He was Starfleet.

"You...you have Starfleet personnel on your ship?" she said, dazed.

He broke his stare to glance at his captain, who simply nodded once.

"Yes," the human said. "I'm Commander Paul Kinsey. First officer, IKS Vor'moch. We have many other Starfleet crew aboard this ship."

Now that she looked, there were other humans manning stations on the bridge – three in all, working right next to Klingons. Most wore the same battered, worn uniforms as the first officer did. Klingon knives hung from their belts. One wore a Klingon gray vest over his uniform. Two of them stared back at Voyager hopefully, as if they had forgotten that a Federation existed. One watched back with curiosity but little trust.

Janeway blinked and felt dizzy. What was going on here? How could a Klingon ship have Starfleet officers as part of its bridge crew? She swallowed.

"I'd like to speak to your Starfleet officers," she managed.

Koth didn't refuse her, but he wasn't polite either. "Not now. We are making repairs."

Get ahold of yourself, Kathryn. She took a moment to compose herself. "Of course," she said. "As fellow travelers, may I offer you the assistance of my engineers?"

That, apparently, did the trick. Koth nodded once. "You may." He turned and barked out an order in gutteral Klingon. "Beam aboard when you are ready." He cut the connection, leaving only a blank starfield in his place.

Janeway stared at the ship. She had to know what their story was. After all this time, Starfleet officers...on a Klingon ship? But first she had to help them. "Bridge to Engineering," she said briskly.

"Engineering here," Torres replied, sounding as shocked as Janeway felt. "Captain, are these sensor readings right?"

Janeway sank back down into her chair. "It seems so," she said. "Assemble a team of engineers. We're going to help the Vor'moch crew."

"Aye, captain," Torres said dubiously.

Chakotay looked over at her. "After all these years, another Alpha Quadrant ship," he said. "What do you think their story is?"

"I don't know," Janeway said. "But I mean to find out."