Chapter 1: These are the Voyagers

Space flows, twisting and bending like a river far too wide. Nebulas, galaxies, an abundance of lights like fireworks frozen in time… and through these a lone star ship sails. A great disk connected to a short neck streamlining into a thin body and ending in two jutting fins like blue wings, gliding effortlessly through this black ocean. "Captain's Log Stardate 46424.1, we have just completed a four year research mission along the Delta Quadrant; a very dangerous and time consuming expedition, but the rewards of our struggles will benefit the Federation greatly."

A serious man sits in a muted blue high backed chair, a clear darkened glass desk adorned with various objects such like a rotating pyramid, a miniature globe of earth, and assorted books of fantasy. The light grey walls of the captain's ready room broken by paintings of vast mountains surrounded by pine forests and gentle rivers, majestic or lofty trappings for a man no less so. He stands six two, two hundred and seventy pounds of liquid muscle in a red and black uniform. Handsome, light of complexion, a square jaw chin-tipped with a well trimmed goatee matched by brown hair slicked and professionally bound in a pony tail between wide shoulders- not one hair split or out of place- equally brown deep set eyes gaze sharply, forged in the deep recesses of space where one lives or dies by wit and close cooperation of a loyal crew; a dignified air, a ready smile, his teeth immaculate and slightly fanged, like a man who held firm the wild animal within.

"We are currently on our way to Star Base K7 for routine maintenance, and hopefully commission major repairs to our shields and bulkheads which took quite a beating when we narrowly avoided a quantum string. A fascinating phenomenon we were barely able to study. On a personal note I and my crew will be glad to see familiar stars."

He stood then, tugging down his shirt with the gold and silver Star Fleet badge proudly displayed on his breast. Taking a few steps forward the door slid open, showing the main bridge. The bridge itself, standard among Galaxy class star ships, covered in muted pink carpeting with computer stations lining the far wall and a banister rising like a bisected hill which allowed room for three chairs as well as two additional short stools. Before the main viewing screen the navigation and operation stations, one left the other right, with swiveling display consoles alight with various colored buttons. The Captain paused as a black and white tuxedo cat rose from the captain's chair and jumped down at his approach. The cat, , the same size as an average domesticated cat with black and white markings, turned and jumped into the Commander's chair on the left where it began to clean the inside of it's feet. The Captain again adjusted his shirt even as he sat, sighing briskly as he settled into his own now vacant chair. He looked forward stoically, seemingly alone on the bridge, with the cat, "Well Number One, care to explain?"

The cat continued to clean, chewing in-between the toes every now and again.

"I doubt I have to cite regulations to you, and I understand the stress of recent trials, so we'll let it slide this time shall we?" The cat switched to it's other paw; now he turned to the cat entirely, "Commander Mittens, I don't have to remind you, Uniform standards are still upheld on my ship… now then, Mr. Whiskers, I'd like an updated duty roster as soon as you are able."

An orange tiger striped cat, seemingly unseen until mentioned, sat atop the tactical station console. Twitching it's tail in annoyance and batting at a separate console pad as if to clear the item from it's space, knocking it accidentally off and into the Captain's lap with little more concern for it once beyond it's reach.

"Ah, you're one step ahead of me, as usual; very good Mr. Whiskers." The Captain studied the tablet carefully a moment, "Hmm seems Transporter Chief O'mally is requesting lesser shift hours to take care of his wife's recent addition to the family. Councilor Fuzzums, when you have a moment I'd like you to speak him, just to see if he is adjusting well to the new responsibilities."

Beside him in the other chair a sleek cat with curly hair drowsed lazily.

The Captain nodded subtly, returning to the roster. "Mm, Lt. Commander Bootsy…" He looked up; a light tan cat with bright golden eyes perched atop operations chair before the main viewer, swung it's tail lazily. "It says here you and Chief Engineer Coco spent two hours reinforcing the containment shield on deck seven, I appreciate the hard work, we can't have the breech affect our already weakened shields."

The tan feline looked down seriously, as if just noticing the appendage, and suddenly swatted it's lashing tail, then clawed into the seat with ears laying back – unsure whether the appendage would retaliate or if it should flee into another area.

"If the problem should worsen I've assigned Mr. Meowclay to help ease that burden; I understand he is already on holodeck three running a simulation on energy diversion that won't cause a collapse, let's hope his hard work will pay off as well." The Captain set the roster down, lifting his head to the main view screen. "Ensign Puppy, hold our current course and decrease to impulse if Mr. Meowclay's experiment should require warp energy diversion."

A muddy grey cat, small yet rounded, at the navigation console wandered aimlessly, looking off the side as if trying to perceive the best way down.

"Oh, yes," The Captain hit his badge and waited. "Doctor Wiggle Bottom?" A tabby cat wandered by aimlessly, tail half lifted past the navigation console where the muddy grey cat crouched as if to swat it as it went by. There was no response. The Captain pursed his lips. "She was reporting communicator failure earlier… Computer!"

A short round of beeping acknowledged the command.

"What is Doctor Wiggle Bottom's current location?"

The computer beeped again, then answered with a soothing warm yet coldly recorded voice, "Doctor Wiggle Bottoms is currently located in sick bay, Prrr."

"What is the status of her communicator?"

The computer paused a moment then responded, "The current status of her communicator is offline. Time to repair communicator functions is still three hours as set by Chief engineer Lieutenant Commander Coco. Prrrr."

The Captain nodded, looking again to the black and white cat seated to his right, who looked up at him from the sudden attention. "Number one you have the bridge, I'll be in my ready room."

With that the Captain stood, pulling down his shirt a third time and calmly walking back to the door he entered from, which slid open as he neared and closed behind him. The black and white watched him stand and then leisurely picked itself up; it watched the ready room door a moment, perhaps making sure, then jumped into the first chair to curl up comfortably in the warm leather before settling back into cleaning the top of it's head. The curly haired cat beside startled slightly at the leap, but settled down as it did, then returned to it's half lidded drowsing. The striped cat above, still twitching it's tail in some mild annoyance, shifted to it's other paw- closing it's eyes calmly.

In his ready room, just as the Captain took his seat, a beeping interrupted him. He turned to his personal console, swiveling it, then hit the screen a few times. "A level one coded message from Admiral Alynna Nechayev?" A few more buttons and a woman appeared on the screen; blond, fair skinned, with serious eyes and the Star Fleet Insignia boldly painted behind her. He smiled warmly, despite her stern demeanor, "Admiral Nechayev, an unexpected by welcome surprise, it's good to see you again!"

Admiral Nechayev looked taken back slightly, as if she had not expected so quick an answer, or answer at all. "Oh, Captain, I hope I am not disturbing you?"

"Not at all Admiral, your's is the first familiar face we've seen since our return." He smiled all the more, sitting back comfortably. "What can I do for you?"

She hesitated only slightly upon his words, before reinforcing her own for their importance, "We've received reports of a Klingon and Romulan encounter along the Neutral Zone, there hasn't been any signs of combat yet, but reports state their dispute is escalating; we'd like to send a Federation vessel in to ease the tension and provide a possible diplomatic solution… and avoid war."

He frowned, eyes becoming sharper still.

She seemed ever so subtly unnerved, through for the situation or his adamant stare, it was unclear, "Yours is the only other ship that is close enough to this particular region and the Enterprise is not responding, it seems they are having computer troubles and can not be reached, but if it is too far out of your way or…"

The Captain smiled genuinely once more, "Not at all Admiral, we were just on our way to Starbase K7, not to far from the Neutral Zone, it would be no trouble at all."

The studious Admiral paused upon her words again, a question poised on her lips and tongue- her hands griped the table before her as the word of contention finally freed itself. "I wouldn't normally come to you with this type of request… we have received your reports about the damage your ship has taken… a-and if you don't feel confident you and your… crew, can handle it…"

Still the Captain smiled, beaming at her and leaning forward. "Admiral I assure you my crew and I are entirely capable of handling a border dispute even in our current condition, have you sent the coordinates from the two ships last headings?"

The Admiral nodded, still watching, "It's already been sent. Are you sure-"

The Captain held up a gracious hand, "I appreciate your concern Admiral, but after all the work we've done for the past four years, some face to face communication among our own stars will be a welcome change. Even such, temperamental, converse."

The Admiral grew quiet; nodding, she griped her hands to stillness, letting be whatever net she cast and whatever fears she cast with it. "Understood, keep us appraised of the situation."

With a beep the screen fell dark, immediately he stood, exiting the ready room. "Ensign Puppy lay in a course to Star Fleet's new coordinates, warp factor seven."

The quick entrance on the bridge startled the black and white from his chair, which stood and looked at him warily. He then sat in the Captain's chair, pulling his uniform down tight. The orange striped cat at tactical sat up, lashing it's tail further still and the curly hair cat in the other seat finally woke, looking up at the new source of noise. The black and white, upon seeing it wasn't being chased, jumped up onto the other seat and stood upon the arm rest looking at the man pointedly.

The Captain turned to it, "Seems there is a bit of a spat in the Neutral Zone between the Romulans and a Klingon ship. We've just received orders to intervene, peacefully if possible, and avert war." He then looked forward, nodding authoritatively. "Whenever your ready ensign."

Meanwhile the muddy grey cat upon seeing something more interesting on the other side of the console, slowly padded it's way across, hitting random buttons as it did so, before crouching to look off the opposite side. Outside the ship, stars began to stretch; points of light became lines, and every color of the rainbow burned upon the edges as the ship hummed a high pitched breath. Instantly the ship hit warp, disappearing from the naked eye as it broke the barriers of gravity and inertia, speeding forward through the seas of stars. Planets rotated calmly, serene in this endless void dotted with distant worlds and streams of matter aglow like molten sunsets.

Elsewhere, two ships faced each other: a great Bird of Prey and a stark green Warbird, poised for battle. A fierce and beautiful Klingon warrior, dressed in traditional attire slammed her gloved hand down upon the arm of her chair, snarling with misshapen yet sharpened teeth at the screen before her. "qoH! We will not be driven away by, paTak! The Federation may allow you to get away with penetrating the Neutral Zone again and again, but not us! You have been caught trying to cloak and escape, but who better to follow the movements of a cloaked ship then another cloaked ship? You can no longer out run us; now explain your presence here, Rom-u-lan!"

Upon which a cold and stone faced Romulan Captain, dressed in tradition grey uniform with precise bowl cut and pointed eyebrows, griped his own chair arms. "You seem to be mistaken, or misguided, as all Klingon scum. It is we who were following your own cloaked ship through the Neutral Zone, simply because you decided to turn around and finally face us does not mean you have followed nor even cornered us. Quite the opposite, for it is you who are outnumbers and you who will explain your presence to us!"

Suddenly a second Warbird decloaked off the port bow of the Klingon vessel!

The Klingon Captain's eyes bulged and she opened her mouth to roar further words, but a Klingon officer beside her interrupted: "Captain, another ship approaches, likely Federation… yes, it is a federation vessel, Galaxy class."

She halted, and smiled wickedly at the Romulan, "Outnumbered did you say?"

Suddenly the Klingon officer gasped! "The ship…!" he rasped… afraid.

She turned her head to him, "What is it?" He gave no answer, until she barked at him again, growling at his incompetence. The Romulan on the screen looked equally interested at this reaction.

"It is him!" The Klingon officer hissed, eyes wide and mouth agape.

She looked at him unsure, then her own eyes widened. "You mean…?"

The Romulan Captain looked extremely interested now.

"He is hailing us!"

She scowled, "Open a channel!"

There were a few tense moments before a strong voice floated over the comm. "This is Pawl Mausley, Captain of the United Federation Star Ship Abyssinian. We received a report of a slight disturbance along the neutral zone, I have been sent to investigate or mediate as the issue requires, though you must forgive me as our Comm. Channels are being repaired at the moment so I can only send and receive audio. How can I be of assistance?" All the Klingons looked to each other, some in shock, some surprise and other n confusion. The Romulan commander quietly gauged all the reactions, becoming stiffer in his posture, yet also leaning back.

"Ah, it is an honor Captain Mausley, this is B'etor of house Torath of the ship Quvmoh Ngoy. We, regret, to hear of your Comm. failure. We also learned of a disturbance and have just cornered this Romulan ship, sneaking through the Neutral Zone, when yet another appeared- also sneaking through the Neutral Zone. "

The Romulan Commander instantly stiffened further; "How dare you! It was you who were caught running with your coward tail between you legs Klingon!"

However, again, Captain Mausely's voice came over the comm. "Ah, it would seem we have a misunderstanding here. Then if I may suggest, allow my ship to be a neutral setting so all Captains, with an escort of course, may meet and discuss this issue."

B'etor looked to her Officer, then back to Romulan Commander. "We shall be happy to comply with such an honorable officer such as yourself, Captain Mausley."

The Romulan Commander narrowed his eyes. "It is agreed; but any sign of trickery, and we shall wipe you from the face of the Federation."

Onboard the Abyssinian, Captain Mausley sat calmly in his chair, still surrounded by the various cats milling or sitting upon consoles. "Excellent! We'll rendezvous in twenty minutes." The screen split between the Klingon and Romulan ships darkened, comm. silenced. "I think that went rather well, don't you Commander Mittens?"

The black and white cat sitting beside him closed his eyes lazily.

Captain Mausley looked up generally. "Computer?" A beeping answered, "How much longer until the ship wide communicator problems are fixed?"

A beeping response, "Two hours remain until complete communicator repair."

Mausley rubbed his chin, pulling his goatee carefully, "Computer… patch me thought to Lt. Commander Coco."

"Patch established. Prrrr."

"Commander, see if there is anyway to shorten the time of repair, we've going to have some very touchy customers onboard in moments and I'd like full communications to be possible. Hmm, Lt. Commander Bootsy will be aiding you, and you can pull Mr. Meowclay from holodeck three if that would help. Computer, ship wide announcement." Captain Mausley shifted in his seat, the Computer beeped in response, "Attention all personnel." Captain Mausley's voice echoed throughout the ship-

"We will be hosting Captains from the Klingon and Romulan ship." Various types of cats, all average domesticated felines commonly found on earth wandered through the hallways, paused for a moment to look for the source of noise.

"I don't expect any trouble, so let's not give them the impression we do." In ten forward, more cats of various colors and sizes licked out of bowls of milk or pushed around cans of opened tuna, one in particular licked it's chops looking around itself curiously at the other cats. "We should have any Comm. malfunctions worked out and all Communicators up and running by then, but I'm going to suggest all non essential personnel move to emergency stations if our shields should need be tested. Thank you."

-back on the bridge Captain Mausley stood briskly, "All senior staff meet me in the conference room in thirty minutes, I'll want a status report on the communicators at that time, Mr. Bootsy."

He turned then headed for the turbo lift, the various cats sitting about on the bridge watched him go, or stayed lying down. The orange striped cat took interest in his going and jumped down to follow, seemingly hoping for a treat.

Back upon the Klingon ship Quvmoh Ngoy, Captain B'etor paced with her first officer, Ka'ar who spoke firmly, "I thought he was on assignment in deep space!"

B'etor waved her hand, "It has been four years, Ka'ar, he must have completed his assignment." She then turned and leaned forward. "He spoke of Comm. failure, but even the blind can see her hull damage, what did the scan of the ship reveal?"

Ka'ar straightened, "Scans report his shield strength at sixty five percent, there was a breach in her lower hull and they are diverting power to block off those sections. There is also an energy drain but the reason for this is unknown."

B'etor brought her hand's to her chin, thinking carefully. "The Romulans will know what we know, but would they be foolish enough to risk attacking a Federation galaxy class? The pelt is soft, but the claws and fang have lost no sharpness."

Ka'ar suddenly leaned forward, "It is clear the Romulans came for a fight, if we were to face them now we would be destroyed… and our 'cargo' lost!"

B'ethor held up a hand to silence him, "Our… cargo, can not be lost, the Empire will benefit from our mission, chance though it may be to fall into our hands."

Ka'ar then said more quietly, "…if we were to, attack, his ship and then cloak, the Romulans would feast upon the carcass while we escape."

B'etor turned violently. "You would have me run like a dog?!"

Ka'ar gripped his fists, "Only to save our cargo! and serve the empire! Or to die in vain, for what cost? One wounded federation vessel limping through space?"

B'etor of house Torath sat in her seat harshly. What was more important? A wounded federation vessel with an old has been legend or the information many Klingons had given their lives for? She rubbed her chin, and finally spoke. "We shall board his vessel, and take stock with our own eyes the condition of him and his crew, deep space has doubtlessly left them weary, there must be no chance that we would be destroyed in retaliation. If I must resort to treachery… then it at least must not fail."

Ka'ar bowed his head.

Meanwhile aboard the first Romulan ship; Commander Cha'Icars drummed his fingers upon the armrest. "The Klingons spoke with much respect and awe of this, Federation Captain Mausley… yet his ship is in dire need of repairs. Communications failures, the shields are down to only sixty five percent, and they are already breached… if we concentrated the fire of both ships, we could destroy him utterly."

A Centurion behind him looked thoughtful, "But if I was to do so, the Klingon spy ship could attack as we were occupied, cloak, and evade us."

Cha'Icars held up a strategic hand, "No. It would be wiser to direct our fire at the federation weapon systems and the Klingon guidance systems, thereby we could then simultaneously concentrate our fire on the Federation's guidance systems to bring them both into a dead standstill… but if the Abyssinian should retaliate… We can do nothing in the dark, we must know the status of the man himself, and his people. We shall board his ship and gauge the morale of his crew, those so long in deep space often come back, weakened in mind. Then we shall know when is the right time… to strike."

In mere moments time the Romulan commander, flanked by two Centurion guards and the Klingon Captain accompanied by her First officer Ka'ar, all transported onboard the Abyssinian. The first thing before their eyes, Captain Mausely himself, standing proudly and welcomingly …and an overweight orange and white cat sitting lazily upon the transporter console.

"Welcome aboard the Abyssinian, I am Captain Pawl Mausley, this is Transporter Chief O'mally. It is an honor to host these talks, with such distinguished guests."

B'etor and Ka'ar looked around them questioningly, seeking for this 'transporter Chief' but saw no one else and said nothing else- trying not to look foolish in front of the Romulans, they quickly introduced themselves. "Ah Captain it is a pleasure to see you well, I am Captain B'etor, and this is my First Officer Ka'ar of the house Ondagh."

Ka'ar bowed respectively, trying desperately to hide his confusion.

B'etor smoothly covered any expression by sneering at her opposition.