Thanks to Daydream Omega for submitting a review! Nice to know you enjoyed it!

note: there are no chapter numbers in the story itself, as Iam trying to portray this as a single 'movie-like' event.

Star Trek: Final Hour

When the Doctor awoke himself after the main computer informed (per regulations) all programs that Voyager was once again underway, he immediately felt annoyed with Admiral Janeway. It wasn't like her to not even see him anytime she came on board, and certainly unusual before starting out on another mission. On second thought, it was unusual that the computer had not informed him someone was coming on board. He was going to have words with her and the main computer both.

He strode over to his desk and picked up the mobile holo-emitter, affixing it to his own matrix and preparing himself to give Admiral Janeway a piece of his mind. He requested that the computer give him the current location of Admiral Janeway.

"Admiral Janeway is not on board Voyager," it calmly replied.

"What?" He felt annoyed. Who was commanding then? "Where is Captain Chakotay?"

"Captain Chakotay is not on board Voyager," it told him.

Alarm began to filter into his thoughts. "Lieutenant Paris, Lieutenant Torres, or Ensi-Lieutenant Kim?"

"Lieutenants Paris, Torres, and Kim are not on board Voyager," the computer said quite unconcernedly.

"What crew does Voyager currently carry?" the Doctor asked, confused and beginning to be more than a little nervous. Certainly they would not be on automatic pilot; a ship of this power and advancement would not be entrusted to simple computers.

"Current crew: 7. 4 males, 3 females."

"Names and ranks, please," the Doctor sighed. Computers were so awkward to deal with, unlike himself. They had no originality.

"Admiral James Burke, Commander Elizabeth Shelby, Lieutenant John Malcolm, Lieutenant Price Tursan, Lieutenant Beth Janes, Lieutenant Alysar Kuymar, and Lieutenant Dr'doth P'cren."

The Doctor frowned. He was not familiar with any of the names except Commander Shelby. She had been a member of the Borg Tactical Response Office Admiral Janeway now commanded. "Purpose of crew transfer?"

"No scheduled crew transfer details."

"Time of boarding?"

"Unknown."

This was getting worse and worse! "What is Voyager's current location?" the Doctor asked, beginning to pace as he did so.

"Outer Earth orbit, coordinates 65 west, 100 north, geostationary orbit."

"Are there any other Starfleet vessels in the vicinity?" The Doctor felt himself growing more and more concerned by the second. This was all wrong.

"U.S.S. Wolf 359, Galaxy-class; U.S.S. Berlin, Steamrunner-class; U.S.S. Adjudicator, Akira-class; U.S.S. Destiny, Sovereign-class; U.S.S. Coeur de Gloire, Akira-class." The Doctor nodded absentmindedly. "Updating… no contact now with U.S.S. Wolf 359, Galaxy-class."

The Doctor blinked several times in shock. "Reason for termination of contact?"

"Destruction of U.S.S. Wolf 359."

"How?" He barely got the single word out.

"Internal warp core breach."

The Doctor winced. "Caused by what?"

"Transphasic torpedo hit to lower decks."

The Doctor stopped dead in his reflexive pacing. "Repeat, computer."

"Transphasic torpedo hit to lower decks."

"Voyager fired on Wolf 359?" He was incredulous.

"Confirmed."

A Starfleet admiral, attacking other Starfleet vessels with the most advanced ship in the quadrant? How did that happen? "Was the torpedo fired intentionally?" He knew the question was stupid as soon as he asked it.

"Unable to determine."

"Yes, yes," the Doctor said in frustration. What was he to do now? He was a prisoner of a ship that was attacking other Starfleet vessels. What if the remaining ships decided to destroy Voyager?

He felt a shiver pass through his holo-matrix. Then they would engage Voyager, and be quickly dispatched by the deadly transphasic torpedo armaments that the future Admiral Janeway had equipped Voyager with. And with Borg-enhanced armor plating the outer hull, Voyager would be untouchable.

All of a sudden, the door to sickbay hissed open, and an Andorian female strode in with a phaser rifle, scanning the area cautiously. She saw the Doctor standing paralyzed in his office, and directed the point of the weapon at him. The Doctor raised his hands in surrender.

Now he was in trouble.


As the final echoes of electronic shrieks caused by the obliteration of the U.S.S. Wolf 359 died off from the communications system, Admiral Burke permitted himself a thin smile. It felt good to sit in the center seat of the most powerful vessel in this quarter of the galaxy. Why, he might even be able to 'coax' the other members of the Council into giving him the reins of power someday.

The smile broadened into something very predatory. Enough time for that after these peace-loving dregs of the Federation had been cleared up.

Commander Shelby straightened from her position at Tactical. "Admiral, we have the U.S.S. Coeur de Gloire vectoring on our position, requesting clarification of our intentions." Her voice was only just barely calm enough to pass Burke's quick judgment of her conscience. She was not the most ardent of his supporters, but her experience with the Borg was necessary to his plan. She had also been quickly convinced that the Federation was corrupt after the disasters during the Klingon-Cardassian negotiations.

"Well, Commander, I suggest that you explain their choices to them."

Shelby nodded, then glanced at her board. "Sir, another ship, coming up fast! It's-"

A blast rocked Voyager, and the illumination dimmed slightly before returning to former levels. Burke cursed loudly, and hoped that Starfleet's analysis of this vessel had been as correct as it seemed. If Janeway had lied to them…

"No damage, Captain," Shelby told him, wiping a lock of blond hair thick with sweat. Burke released a held breath. "The Destiny is ordering us to stand down and surrender to be brought to trial."

Burke smiled more broadly this time. "Tell them how mistaken they are, Commander, before firing."

"Sir?" Shelby sounded surprised, as if she really expected him to accept them into their ranks after attacking his flagship! The idea was ludicrous.

"Fire, Commander." Burke's voice held veiled threat.

"As ordered, sir," Shelby said, and stabbed at her controls.

A shudder went through the deck as one of the magnificent transphasic torpedoes jetted outwards towards the Sovereign-class starship, ignoring the shields as if they were not there and plunging straight into the forward saucer section. A white flower of destruction bloomed outwards, splitting the ship in two before the warp core detonated in a red orgy of destruction.

Lieutenant Kuymar, the Betazoid male at Ops, reported, "The Couer de Gloire is transmitting a message of surrender, sir."

"Excellent." Burke smiled again. It felt so good when your plans turned out the way you wanted them to.

His communicator chirped suddenly, and he stifled a sigh of annoyance. That would be Tursan, Janes, or possibly P'cren. Any of them could have important information. He tapped it.

"Admiral Burke."

"Admiral, this is Lieutenant P'cren, sir," the tinny voice sounded from the small device. "We may have a slight problem, sir."

"Explain yourself," Burke said warningly. Nothing could go wrong now. They had to have everything running smoothly.

"Sir, the EMH is still on board this ship."

Burke almost laughed in relief. "That is not of concern, Lieutenant," he told the Andorian commando. "Deactivate him and leave."

"Sir, he has a mobile emitter."

Burked contemplated that fact for several seconds. It would not do to have a holographic enemy wandering around the ship, especially given its rapport with the computer. He decided the potential benefits of having a mobile holographic emitter were too small compared to the harm if the EMH was accidentally activated and found the thing again.

"Destroy it, and then deactivate him, Lieutenant."

Shelby became agitated again. "The U.S.S. Berlin is moving towards us, Admiral. Weapons charges are building."

Admiral Burke turned back to the matter at hand. "Explain their options Commander," he ordered. "If they fire on us… well, you know what to do."


The Queen raised her head from her regeneration cycle, stepping forward with a grace her mindless drone children lacked. Her mechanically clad form was slimmer, more practical, than the awkward circuits and battle gear that her subordinates were adorned with.

The number of children that had suddenly been cut off from the Collective displeased the Queen. Though the war with Species 8472 had been aborted by both sides after its brief return to vicious fury, there were still ongoing casualties. The Lost stole them; the Queen knew they did. And yet, the Lost being part of her, yet severed, she had not the heart to extinguish them completely. Someday, it would likely come to a question of survival, and then she would be forced to, but until then… until then, the Lost could wreak havoc on the Federation.

The Federation… stirrings of anger swirled in the Queen's heart. If the Lost were able to throw them into confusion and disarray, that was well. However, if the Lost destroyed them… that would be unacceptable.

Revenge would be hers, in time. It must fall to her to eliminate the Federation pestilence from the galaxy. The Federation had bloodied her, wiped out the transwarp nexus in the Delta Quadrant. Though that had not truly been her at the time, the new Queen felt it as if it were her own experience.

The face of the new Queen looked out over the sleeping drones inside her ship, maternal warmth flooding over the mottled face. A mottled face that, without the slight cosmetic alterations and certain mechanical accoutrements that made her Borg, could have easily been portrayed in the mirror of Admiral Kathryn Janeway.