Author's Note:

I love Mass Effect and Star Trek, but I'm not a theoretical engineer or physicist, nor would I consider myself a hardcore Trekkie. That said, I did my best to stay within the science of these universes and also their individual timelines. This story takes place sometime during the early part of Season 7 of the Star Trek Voyager series and a few years after the Reaper War (after Mass Effect 3), obviously under the premise that Shepard survived.

If you are a fan of one universe, but aren't as familiar with the other and come run across a term or idea that is difficult to piece together or if something just seems unfamiliar, PM me and I'll fill you in on the details. Also keep in mind, this is my first time writing for the Star Trek Voyager universe, so if characters seem OOC, I am to blame as I am still attempting to wrangle their personalities and mannerisms.

Just to clarify, for those who have read my previous ME works, this is not Lakota Shepard adventure. This is a different Shepard with a different look, history and attitude. 'Nuff said.

A special thanks goes out to Lyaksandra, my beta reader. She is a keen sounding board for my ideas, both crazy and sane, and is an invaluable asset in my war on grammar.

I hope you enjoy the story!

Chapter 1

Delta Quadrant 0610
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship
[Captain's Quarters]

Captain Kathryn Janeway splashed cold water on her face, then looked into the mirror that hung above the bathroom sink. Sighing heavily, she watched as the cool liquid fell silently from her chin in tear shaped droplets just before her eyes came to rest on the reflection staring back at her. The shoulder length auburn hair, strong chin, high cheekbones, softly angled nose and lips that quirked into a lopsided grin when amused. A classic beauty is how people had described her. Elegant and refined. She may have looked younger than her forty-three years, but right now the haunted image returning her stare was far from elegant and much closer to exhausted.

She released another sigh, letting her chin fall towards her chest, unable to hold the gaze of the stormy grey-blue eyes peering back at her. They knew too much and had seen far too many tragedies in their time.

Seven years spent in the Delta Quadrant, traversing uncharted space with no support from the Federation and only their wits and her guidance to keep them from harm, which was difficult to avoid even on the best of days. A single ship carrying one hundred and forty-five lives that were relying on her to see them through this journey in the quickest and safest way possible. After all, she was the Captain. She was responsible, both for stranding them here, and for getting them home.

She took a deep breath, shrugging off her weary melancholy, knowing the extra heaviness it carried this morning stemmed from waking up earlier than usual as much as from the tedious, week long negotiations with the Tarians. The weariness could be cured with a strong cup of coffee and sharing breakfast with good company, which was the very reason she had gotten up at this godforsaken hour. If she ever needed proof that she was a night owl instead of an early bird, all she had to do was look in the mirror again and see the dark circles underneath her eyes.

As for the melancholy, it would be soothed once the day was over and they acquired their payment of dilithium for services rendered. Then, they could leave this area of space behind. She hadn't mentioned it to anyone, but privately she would breathe a sigh of relief when they were done with the Tarians. Dealing with the arrogance of their leaders and somewhat less than sincere platitudes over the last few days had taken a toll on her diplomatic moxie. If Voyager's stock of dilithium, the element needed to safely control the matter/antimatter the ship's warp core, hadn't been so low, she may have avoided bartering with them at all.

Shelving any further brooding, Janeway striped off her night clothes, tossed them in the recycling bin, and then stepped into the sonic shower. If Voyager could survive multiple encounters with a morally depraved organ harvesting species, a headache inducing number of temporal incursions, and the wrath of the Borg Queen, then she could get through a cargo transport and one more diplomatic session with the Tarians.

Right now though, she had fifteen minutes before meeting her breakfast companion in the mess hall.

…(/\)…

Milky Way – Kites Nest Cluster – Indris System 1110
Systems Alliance UT-47E Kodiak Drop-Shuttle, prototype

Shepard sighed dramatically as she flopped down in the shuttle's Aft station chair. She tried to contort herself into a comfortable position and with each awkward movement her short-cropped red hair became more disheveled than its normal carefree style. Finally, after realizing the futility of her endeavor, she sighed dramatically again.

"Are you done yet?" She had tried to keep the whininess from her tone but failed utterly. "I'm bored!"

Dr. Liara T'Soni's fingertips danced across the pilot's control panel, deftly entering long strings of computations without pause. Although clearly focused on her task, a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "I still do not understand why Admiral Hackett asked you to conduct this test. Lieutenant-Commander Cortez is more qualified. He is, after all, a certified shuttle pilot."

"Well, Liara, maybe Hackett's trying to broaden my horizons. You know, to make sure I'm happy in my current profession."

"Shepard, you are a former Admiral of the Alliance Navy and a current member of the Citadel Council's elite special tasks group. You have been in some branch of military service for the better part of twenty years. I highly doubt you are having second thoughts about your choice of career now."

"It could happen."

"I'm sure it could, dear, but that is about as likely as Aria returning to her former glory as a pole dancer."

"Well, Spectre or not, nobody is ever a former anything in the Alliance."

Swiveling her chair around to look directly at the human in the rear of the shuttle, Liara asked, "Is that why you agreed to Hackett's request?"

The scientist was dressed in a form-fitting white jumpsuit that was highlighted with royal blue piping running down the sides. The simple outfit was both efficient, and to Shepard's eye quite captivating, especially in the way it drew attention to the Asari's smooth azure-hued skin and shapely frame. Combined with her natural grace and poise, Liara looked positively stunning.

Shaking the illicit thoughts from her head, Shepard concentrated on the question that had been asked. "It was a personal favor."

"Why did he ask for you specifically?"

"What? You don't think I'm qualified?"

"Shepard," Liara said, her voice betraying a subtle exasperation, "just answer the question."

"It's only as a precaution. Anyone can oversee this test, but if things go south, I'm uniquely qualified to make sure the shuttle's software doesn't get into the wrong hands."

"Because you're a Spectre?"

Shepard grinned impishly. "Because I'm a badass."

Rolling her eyes, the scientist swiveled around in her chair again, returning her focus to the pilot's control console. Although her back was to the human, she said, "It's been so long, I'm afraid I've forgotten what your ass looks like, Spectre."

"Liara T'Soni!" Shepard scoffed playfully as she stood and crossed the distance to the Asari's chair. "Watch your language! What would your bondmate say?!"

Tilting her head to catch the Spectre in her periphery, Liara's gaze slipped down the human's frame in unabashed appraisal. "I would be interested to know," she countered. "What do you have to say?"

Since their early days together, she had always felt that the Alliance uniform was a good look for the human. Confident. Sexy. Composed. It was in the surprisingly flattering way the navy blue pants outlined the shape of her hips and well-toned thighs, which not only emphasized her femininity but the strength beneath the fabric as well. Even the uniform top's crisp, clean lines hinted at an athletic frame, allowing her imagination to fill in the blanks as to what lay hidden beneath. To her secret delight, even after years of companionship, the mere sight of Shepard in her uniform made her mouth water as sensual images taken from intimate memory spiraled through her thoughts.

The scientist's face remained impassive, though, revealing nothing of her lascivious admiration. Multitasking was one of her specialties.

Shepard placed her right hand on the back of the chair and gently encouraged Liara to spin back around so they were looking directly in each other's eyes. Then, without breaking eye contact, she placed both of her hands on the arms of the chair, leaning forward so their faces were inches apart. "I say you're right, it has been far too long since you've seen my ass."

Not waiting for a pithy reply, she placed a sweet, lazy kiss on the Asari's mouth, one that was both comforting and mesmerizing. Eventually, the tender kiss ended, but instead of pulling away, she leaned her head forward until their foreheads brushed together.

Sighing contentedly, Shepard said, "Three weeks is unacceptable."

Closing her eyes, Liara breathed in deeply, relishing the close proximity of her lover while both of her hands reached up, framing the human's face between her fingers. "I concur," she whispered. She had long ago memorized the shape and contour of Shepard's face but was no less spellbound by its beauty than the day she had had her first glimpse. Smiling at the recollection, her left hand drifted lower so her fingertips lightly brushed along her lover's neck. With each stroke, she noted both the heat radiating from the soft, supple skin and the strong and steady pulse beneath the surface.

They stayed in this serene pose for a few moments, resting their foreheads together, basking in the unexpected moment of being alone together. Over the last six months, their schedules had been unprecedentedly busy. So much so that rarely had they been allotted time by themselves, but even rarer still were those occasions when no outward demands tugged at either of them.

Then, suddenly, Liara's fingers captured the back of Shepard's head, weaving within strands of short red hair, roughly pressing their mouths back together in a hot, demanding kiss. Shepard returned the Asari's fiery intensity, feeling somewhat faint as a surge of raw need and longing unexpectedly thundered to the surface.

Before she lost control of all her faculties, Shepard reluctantly pulled her lips away and placed her right forefinger on her lover's pursuing mouth. Hoping to clear her heady fervor, she took a deep, grounding breath and shakily exhaled. "You are dangerous."

"And you love it," the Asari parried, her deep blue eyes sparkling in mischief.

Her head still spinning with desire, Shepard took a step back, straightened her posture and nodded. "I do. And you. Definitively. Which is why I asked you to join me today."

"Oh," Liara said, smiling coyly. "You mean you're not just going to be my eye candy? Someone I can leer at while you run tests?"

Shepard returned the smile. "I won't be running any tests. The scientists and engineers back on the Normandy are running the tests. You and I just have to hang out in the shuttle, idling in the middle of this gas nebula until they're all done."

Her eyes wide in excitement, Liara's demeanor quickly shifted to work mode. "If successful, this will be a catalyst for significant advancement in broadening the limits and resilience of current cloaking technology. From everything I've read, the software being tested could feasibly be compatible with any FTL drive."

Shepard blinked. "I should've known that you would already know about the software's highly classified purpose and significance of the supposedly super-secret test."

"Yes, you should have."

"And now I know why Hackett made no fuss about you joining me."

"That is a reasonable assumption."

Her eyes narrowing warily, Shepard stepped forward, once again placing both of her hands on the arms of the pilot's chair. Then, she braced her weight as her legs carefully straddled Liara's, effectively sitting in the Asari's lap. "Does anything escape your intel network?" she asked playfully.

Liara's eyebrow rose challengingly. "No," she said as her arms wrapped around the Spectre's waist. "Nothing. Perhaps in a few years, when you're older and wiser, you'll finally accept it."

Pursing her lips, Shepard retorted, "This from a woman who is one-hundred and fourteen years old."

"Soon to be one-hundred and fifteen."

"You're still angling for a good birthday present, aren't you?"

"Good ideas are not adopted automatically, Spectre," Liara said as she patted her lover's thigh consolingly. "They must be driven into memory with great patience."

Shepard chuckled. "And you have both perseverance and longevity on your side."

Smirking, the Asari quipped, "Yes, I do."

Nimbly capturing Liara's hand in her own, the Spectre turned it over, placing a quick, doting kiss on the palm. "So, how will your network survive in your absence?"

"Ms. Lawson and Garrus are quite capable of, as you humans say, holding down the fort."

"Excellent. Do you think I could persuade you to take a few extra days off then?"

"With the right motivation, your chances for success are high."

"Motivation, eh?"

"Yes. Provided, of course, that nothing goes wrong."

"Wrong?" Shepard said jovially. "What could possibly go wrong?"

…(/\)…

Delta Quadrant 0650
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship
[Mess Hall]

Captain Janeway, who was drinking her second but no less coveted cup of coffee, sat at a two-person table across from Seven of Nine, enjoying their weekly breakfast date. As they talked, Janeway picked at her oatmeal but seemed to find the dark brew in her hands more palatable, while Seven casually sipped from the glass containing her nutritional supplement. The former Borg drone thought most foods were an indulgence and preferred the precise calculated nutritional intake met by the fabricated beverage.

Over the rim of her mug, Janeway glanced surreptitiously at Seven, who looked like the epitome of an Amazonian female warrior of legend, her athleticism and prowess matched, if not surpassed, by her brilliant mind and natural beauty. Piercing blue eyes, fair skin and the way that no single hair of the blonde's characteristic updo was out of place, created an image of an exquisite, yet imposing goddess of a woman. Statuesque and regal. Desirable, but unattainable.

Janeway allowed the glance to stretch a little, and she found herself analyzing, for the thousandth time, the graceful beauty that was Seven of Nine. No matter how much she tried to deny it, or justify her thoughts as just some honorable, innocent appreciation of another crew member, she knew in her heart that what she felt for Seven was absolutely nothing that Star Fleet would ever condone from a Star Ship Captain. But as long as the thoughts and feelings stayed in her head... or heart... and did not transfer themselves to actual behavior, then she was staying within the non-fraternization policy of her employer.

Or so she kept telling herself.

"A curious proposition," Seven said, replying to a comment made by Janeway a few seconds earlier.

Her focus sharply brought back to their present conversation, Janeway pursed her lips, then took a sip from her cup. "To say the least." The bitter brew landed hotly, a galvanizing force, in her stomach.

Arching her optical implant, Seven asked, "How do you wish to proceed?"

After being severed from the Borg collective roughly four years prior, most of her implants had been removed, but a few vital ones had to remain. As for the form-fitting, plum biosuit, she wore that because the design was efficient and the material adaptive, two familiar and satisfactory adjectives for the ex-drone.

"Honestly, I'm not sure," Janeway said. "On the surface, all the data the Tarians have provided has been accurate and their request seems sincere."

Seven tilted her head slightly, contemplating the older woman's words for a moment. "But you remain uncertain of their motives."

Janeway nodded as a subtle grin tugged at the corner of her mouth. She was both pleased and somewhat disconcerted that Seven knew her moods so well. "My gut tells me there is something I'm missing, but I can't see it."

"Your instincts have proven to be uncommonly accurate."

After a moment of gazing into the black depths of her cup as though looking for answers, Janeway looked up and found herself swallowed into icy blue eyes. There was an unquantifiable intensity in that gaze, and an indisputable affection both of which created a slow, pleasant burn in the pit of her stomach.

"What's your opinion?" she asked, silently cursing how husky her voice sounded.

"They are offering us the dilithium we require. A single use of our cargo transporter is the payment they require. The solution is obvious."

Janeway sighed. That obvious solution was one of the reasons for her doubts. "Yes, but this isn't a puzzle, Seven. There is no solution. What's at issue here is whether or not we can trust the Tarians."

Seven frowned. "The issue is Voyager's survival."

"That is another very valid issue," Janeway admitted. "And I suppose with nothing else to go on, it's the only one we should keep in our sights."

"Indeed."

"Do me a favor, though…"

"You want me to go over the data once again."

Janeway grinned, the mirth reaching her eyes. "You know me too well, Seven."

"Perhaps."

Seven's smile was barely perceptible, but Janeway was quite attuned to the former Borg's subtle mannerisms, and found herself warmed by the expression.

"Besides," she said, "it's a simple cargo transport. What could possibly go wrong?"

…(/\)…

Milky Way – Kites Nest Cluster – Indris System 1300
Systems Alliance UT-47E Kodiak Drop-Shuttle, prototype

"The Normandy is ready to begin testing," Liara said, "they are just waiting for the stealth drive to come online."

"What's the shuttle's status?" Shepard asked as she finished securing the last piece of her body armor.

The charcoal grey combat hard-suit, highlighted with dark blue around her joints and down the length of her right arm, implemented a quadruple layer of protection: shields, barrier, armor and a combat/self-repair software suite. The customized, one-of-a-kind armor was a birthday gift designed and built by her friend, Admiral Tali'Zorah vas Tescla, Quarian ambassador to the Geth and mechanical genius.

Liara spun around in her chair, watching the Spectre double-check her armor's environmental seals. "All systems are normal. We're just idling in the nebula waiting for you to finish getting dressed."

"Hey, it takes time to look this good."

"Honestly, you're as bad as Tali."

"Please. She's a bit of a diva when it comes to her armor."

"And you're not?" Liara scoffed. "What about all of the extra upgrades and software suites?"

"That's not being a diva, that's being a tech nerd."

"Apparently, being a tech nerd requires as much primping as a diva."

Shepard glared at the Asari, the amusement in her eyes negating any implied irritation. "Just because it only takes you five minutes to put on your armor doesn't mean you get to call me a diva."

"Yes, it does."

"I just like to be prepared!" Shepard retorted.

"Of course, dear."

"You're placating me."

"Yes, dear."

"Fine." Shepard sat down in the co-pilots chair. She huffed in feigned irritation, then asked, "So… you ready?"

Liara quickly ran through the ship's systems for the fourth time, then nodded. "Yes."

Flashing Liara an award winning smile, Shepard keyed in a few commands and activated the stealth drive. "Then let's get this show on the road."

…(/\)…

Delta Quadrant 0800
USS Voyager, Intrepid Class Federation Starship
[Bridge]

"Report." Captain Kathryn Janeway settled back into her command chair, then brought the mug of coffee to her lips and took a sip.

"The Tarian scientists arrived and set up their equipment in cargo bay one," Chakotay replied. "They brought a few more personnel then we expected, but Tuvok added an extra security detail to escort them. Now we're just waiting for our science team to complete their checklists and for Seven to confirm the cargo bay's readiness."

Janeway turned her head, raising an inquisitive eyebrow toward her first officer, who was seated on her left side. As usual, her gaze was immediately drawn to the facial tattoo the man had on his forehead just above his left eye. A symbol of his Native American heritage.

Chakotay chuckled. "Apparently, it's more efficient to monitor the transport in the cargo bay than Astrometrics."

An amused grin tugged at the corner of Janeway's mouth. "Efficiency and effectiveness go hand in hand."

Chakotay's broad smile showed off deep dimples as he watched his captain savor another sip of her dark beverage.

Eyes sparkling in amusement, he said, "Also, the Tarian ships have assumed a tactical formation and have released the dust into the nebula."

Janeway nodded. "Bridge to Transporter room. Status."

[Transporter room]

Ensign Harry Kim stood at the control panel, waiting for command to start the transport. "All set here, Captain. Pattern cohesion in the nebula looks stable."

[Cargo Bay One]

"Cargo Bay One, Report."

Coolly, Seven accessed the room of stoic Tarians and eager Voyager scientists one final time. "The bay is clear, Captain. We are ready to begin."

[Bridge]

Janeway straightened her posture, looking forward at the multicolored nebula on the main viewscreen. She thought back to the conversation she shared with Seven over breakfast, then took a deep breath and pushed her unsubstantiated concerns to the side.

"Well, then, let's get this show on the road." She placed her now empty mug in a mini-recycling bin between the command chairs. "Ensign Kim… Engage."