A/N: now to write all those disclaimers, I guess. Disclaimer: I own nothing of star trek or stargate. I own only my characters, aboard the Throphy and other ships. All of the planets and stuff like that belong to the people who created stargate and the star terk universe. Now to the story!

A type-D class shuttle flew out of Bajor's atmosphere. The Shuttle's trajectory was headed straight towards a gleaming Federation Ship. The ship was the second ever Sovereign class ever, built after the Enterprise-E. The freshly painted name glistened, when the runabout's lights hit it. The lettering spelled out Trophy, NCC-3987. The slick figure was like a cat ready to give chase to a mouse. People were filled with awe at the sight of the slickness. She was a thing of the next generation, Starfleet claimed. The other star ships looked like they were put together from boxes smashed together. This ship was made for the part of putting awe or fear in the minds of citizens. Even the Cardassions and Klingons were filled with the glory and bearing of the Cat in the docking pylons.
"Is that it Lieutenant?" A tall woman in Military uniform asked.
"Aye, Captain. That's the Trophy. It's the fastest in the fleet." The women at the control answered.
"Bigger, too. The schematics don't fully prepare you for the real thing, Lieutenant."
"Aye. They never do. The crew is already putting the spit and polish on. Then we can leave."
On- Board the Trophy, Captain Annabel Anderson was getting to know her home for the next month, so. She thought the name fitted it to the letter. It was a trophy to her name. The Klingons at the hangar window was thinking how the ship had her honor that was shown in the true Klingon fashion.
On D.S.9, Quark was busy making more latimom fill his pocket. "Ensign, I've got some priceless items, which you could give to your parents back home."
"We were warned about the Fergu."
"Oh, really. All I'm trying to do is sell you some priceless items that your folks might like." Quark whipped out a PADD. "Now who was the person, who warned you about the Fergu?"
"This one would make a very good pendant for my mother." He answered nervously.
"Or cuff- links for your father. But there not for sale."
"Really! You just said they were. I think you, Fergu, are a lair." Just then a person walked up behind him.
"Didn't your parents teach you not to mess with the Fergu?"
"Yes they did." Cody Wilcox turned.
"John Riker. Come on." He headed for the door. Ensign Wilcox followed behind. The two headed for Docking Pylon number 2.
On- board the Trophy, John turned to Cody and said "Captain, wanted to know when I came aboard." He turned to go.
"Thanks, for what you did back there. I appreciate it." Cody thanked.
"It was nothing any Starfleet officer would have done. I see Amelia Stonewell aboard."
"Who?"
"She's the head of Security. She's a Human/Klingon/ Vulcan hybrid. Don't talk about her parents. She's the best in the fleet. I'm not surprised." Riker turned to go.
"Well, I work at operations. Where do you work?" Cody turned to follow Riker.
"Best Pilot in the fleet, is me." Riker looked back. "Don't want Captain Anderson waiting for us."
"Good idea. Meet you in the mess hall later?"
"Yep." Riker and Wilton walked into the Captain's ready room.
"Good to see that my operations and pilot aren't fooled by the Fergu."
"About that, Ma'am." Ensign Wilton started.
"It's alright, Ensign. It was a joke. I'll take Ma'am in a crunch. It's not crunch time, yet."
"Yes, Captain."
"Good. Now I believe, we're leaving port, Gentlemen. You may report for duty."
"Yes, Captain." Riker and Wilton headed for their stations. The Captain followed. "All hands, this is the captain speaking. Get ready to leave port in ten minutes. Captain out." She headed for her seat in the middle of the bridge.
Ten minutes later, The people on the space station watched as Trophy pulled smoothly out of the docking pylon. "Nice and steady, Don't scratch the paint Lieutenant."
"Yes, Ma'am."
The crew members all stood listening as the captain made her speech. When she was finished, the crew clapped loudly all over Trophy. There smile lit the corridors up, like Christmas lights.
"Lieutenant, Bring us round smoothly. Then we have a heading of 435 mark 7365. Warp factor 7."
"Aye, Captain, 435 mark 7365. Warp factor 7." He tapped in the commands that would make Trophy go seventy times the speed of light.
"I'll be in my ready room. Commander, you have the bridge. Let me know when we've found that Klingon cruiser." With that, Captain Anderson left the bridge.