I dont own this story nor i am its writer. This story is from SIDoragon.

Season 1 - Episode 3: A Summoning of Thunder
March 2371 (14 days in the Delta Quadrant)

As the weekly staff meeting droned on and on, I found my own attention drifting. The briefing room was located to the port side of the bridge, with three large view ports facing the front of the ship, giving me a great view of absolutely nothing but empty space. The room itself was dressed much like the rest of the ship, with its off-grey coloring, but at least had a few creature comforts to provide a relaxed atmosphere for meetings. The odd-shaped table reminded me of a top-down view of a starship at warp, and while it was obviously designed to support seven chairs, it could go to ten in a pinch. The captain sat at the head of the table, closest to the windows, which my training told me was customary. A monitor on the wall allowed visual aspects or presentations during briefings if needed, and a replicator was set up beside it for additional comfort, but the décor could use some work.

It still annoyed me that the only real color in the room, besides the uniforms, were the tan chairs. The sterility of life on a starship was already starting to get to me and I tuned out the reports on general ship status and fuel supplies to find ways to alleviate it. Most of my mind was currently going over the various things, nick-nacks really, that I would like to add to my living quarters to make it more inviting. I'd been saving up replicator rations but still wasn't sure what exactly to spend them on. Maybe paint the walls forest green, so I didn't feel like I was stuck in a medical lab twenty-four-seven?

In my old life and new, I had always had a very spartan mentality when it came to décor or comforts, with little things going a very long way. Most of my possessions in both lives weren't things I got for myself; I usually saw things as temporary, but I made an exception for those items I made myself, as they were a display of skill, or other people got for me, since it was a sign they cared or were thinking of me.

An interesting divergence between the two lifetimes, however, had been how my creativity was expressed. In my old life it was with art; paintings, drawings, simple images drawn on napkins. Alternatively, my new life went in the direction of sculpting: clay, wood, metal and various other materials.

It was a little disturbing sometimes when I compared the two. I could remember a painting I did of a sea serpent in watercolor, left hanging on the wall of my living room. At the same time, I had apparently sculpted the same scene out of rock for my mother in this life.

Family life was something else that was really confusing to me. Old world me was the outlier of the family, raised by a single mom and grandmother alongside my little brother, part of it, but separate because I couldn't relate to anyone. I grew up raising myself, managed my own problems, and worked hard to escape our rough neighborhood so I could go to school and move far away from anyone I was related to. At the moment I ended up in this new life, I hadn't seen my mom for two years or my brother for ten.

On the other hand, John and Hannah Shepard were wonderful parents. They might have been a little difficult to reach at times because of their duties, but they were always attentive and supporting of my interests. They were both major parts of my life and strong influences on who I became. When I had trouble making friends as a child, they spoke with me and introduced me to other child on the starbase. Father gave me the interest in art and history, while Mother passed down the concept of discipline and teamwork. John had been ecstatic when I got accepted at the Academy, throwing a large party for me along with some of the crew of the USS Thunderer we had been aboard. Hannah and I had grieved together when he was taken from us by the war. She had been understandably concerned when Section 31 recruited me during my second year at the Academy, but supportive of my decision to join.

There was also an Uncle Warren and Aunt Alice, living in Armstrong City, that I was fairly close to. Weird to think that I actually have family living on the Moon.

Even weirder to realize that I actually missed all of them.

As each day passed in this universe, the lines of the two different past lives I've had were becoming more and more blurred. Yesterday I smelled something in the Mess Hall that reminded me of home, but I couldn't figure out which home. When I woke up this morning and put on my uniform, all I wanted in the world was a cup of Vulcan tea to go with a breakfast burrito. I just knew, in my bones, that I had never had that combination before, and it was doing a remarkable job of freaking me the hell out. It was an odd feeling, mentally worrying and doing everything that should have me shaking with the stress of it, only to physically feel nothing more than moderate concern.

Thank you Invictus.

Maybe, whatever I was in either life, didn't matter anymore. This was Voyager, and I'd already taken steps to start building a third life here. Maybe I should just forget about both previous lives and just focus on the one I had now.

My attention was shifted back to the present when LtJG Paris tapped his padd on the briefing table and declared, "Engine efficiency's down another four percent from last week. I know I said this at our last briefing, but if we don't get more power for warp drives, we'll need to get out and push the ship back to the Alpha Quadrant."

I glanced over at the former convict, feeling a little conflicted about him. My past life memories of the man know him to be an excellent pilot, and eventually a great friend to much of the crew. His hobbies were things I enjoyed myself, such as classic movies and beer with junk food. On the other hand, for all that glamor and confidence the eventual family man would show in the years to come, right now he was still the same Han Solo-ish womanizer who was only a month out of the Federation Penal Settlement in New Zealand.

That was something else that rubbed me wrong. The man was convicted of treason, but was only sentenced to eighteen months' imprisonment. I knew the Federation didn't believe in the Death Penalty, and were soft on the Maquis for various political reasons, but eighteen months in prison, in a minimum security farm, for treason? What the fuck?

It got even worse when I thought back to Richard Bashir, and how he will plead guilty to the illegal genetic engineering of his son in 2373, only to be sentenced to two years in the same penal colony. I didn't know if that said good things about the Federation's rehabilitation system, where only two years was needed, or poor things about the code of justice when treason was rated as a lesser crime than minor genetic engineering.

Janeway glanced around the table, seemingly looking to see if anyone had anything else to contribute, before deciding on, "Ensign Kim, how has the search for alternative energy sources been going? Last week you mentioned the holodeck's energy matrix being incompatible with the other power systems."

"Yes, Ma'am." The young man nodded, lips firming in obvious frustration. "I've attempted to work up a converter of sorts, but every time I try to run more than a trickle of power though it I end up blowing out the relays."

"How much of a 'trickle' are you able to siphon?" Tuvok stoically asked from his seat next to me.

I glanced at him, before running my eyes over everyone else at the table. We basically had the entire command staff in attendance; Janeway with Chakotay and Tuvok on her either side of her closest to the head of the table. I was next to Tuvok on behalf of Security, while Kim was next to me representing Operations as a whole, with B'Elanna Torres following him and representing as Chief Engineer. Paris was on the other side of Chakotay on the opposite side of the table. Science Officer Samantha Wildman was next at the table, since she was the senior Science Officer on board - even if her expertise was on xenobiology, with Neelix and Kes following after. The Doctor was on the screen, watching the proceedings with interest.

Wildman confused me a little. Mostly because I remembered her from the show and how she just stopped appearing after a certain point. But I couldn't recall her ever dying either. She was also never invited to these weekly briefings on the show either, so I didn't know if this was just a case of the television show and reality not lining up, or if I was the cause of a strange butterfly effect.

Ensign Kim furrowed his brow in thought for a second, before looking up at the Vulcan and revealing, "Maybe enough to charge a tricorder every day. The amount we can trickle off is absurdly small."

It hurt to know that I could help with this problem, today even, but doing so would be counterproductive in the long run. As much as a pain in the ass it was to eat that fucking Talaxian's food, allowing Voyager to work though these early resource problems would help the crew in the long run and foster cooperation between the Starfleet and Maquis crew through shared misery. It would also encourage people to think outside the Federation's small box and find creative solutions to unusual problems. It was a skill set they'd need to hone sooner rather than later.

That said, If I didn't already know that things would work themselves out in the short term, at least for a time, I wouldn't hesitate to help. Foreknowledge was useful like that. However, I also knew I couldn't rely on that forever, as my presence had already caused some not insignificant changes. I gave it six months before most of the things I knew from the TV show would be obsolete, just from Voyager not arriving at the times it originally did.

Janeway had closed her eyes in thought, and after thinking it over nodded to herself. "We've been purposely avoiding inhabited worlds for the time being," she began, eyes snapping open to look at us all, "hoping to get ourselves back into a decent condition before we start risking contact with the unknown civilizations of the quadrant. With no way of knowing if the first people we come across will be as friendly as a Risan, or as argumentative as a Tellarite. But we don't have a choice anymore. We need antimatter and the only way we are going to get it is to talk to people and trade for it."

Neelix looked concerned for a moment, but steeled himself to say, "I'm sorry to interject, but trade might be a bit of an issue for you fine people."

"Why?" Chakotay frowned at the Talaxian.

The alien seemed to bristle slightly as he quickly stammered, "I-I-I only mean to say that, that your Federation has some very strange concepts about payment."

Paris chuckled and looked at the table for a moment, before looking up and seeing a room full of blank faces staring back at him for an explanation. Tom smirked as best he could and said, "He is talking about money. Currency. Federation doesn't use it."

The Talaxain nodded, and pushed forward now that he knew people were listening. "Between the Federation not using any money, and even if they did it would be worthless out here, and your own rules about not trading your amazing technology, Voyager doesn't have much in the way of bartering power."

Janeway leaned back in her chair, staring consideringly at the alien. "In lieu of trading technology, what would be an acceptable form of payment, Mr. Neelix? As our resident expert on this region of space, you would know better than the rest of us."

"That would really depend on the planet," The Talaxian hedged, looking contrite. "On some worlds it could be something as simple as medical supplies or unique foods. On others it could just be clean water or entertainment. Dilithium, warp plasma and other supplies needed to run a starship are also popular and valuable, but so are the kinds of things you would be trading for as well."

Kim huffed sarcastically, "Why don't we just find some Latinum?"

Neelix looked over at the Ensign and slowly remarked, "Possibly. But considering that it is an incredibly rare material, I don't think we could just hope to stumble across any. No, No, our best bet would be to find an unclaimed source of Beryllium. In my humble opinion."

"Beryllium?" Tuvok echoed, left eyebrow pushed upwards just a fraction to show interest. I found myself leaning forward as well, intrigued.

"Oh yes," the Talaxian smiled wide at us, "many species across many sectors of space would trade a large fleet of starships for a block of it no more than a few cubic centimeters in volume."

Torres nodded slowly in understanding. "I get why." She looked up at the rest of us and continued, "Earth lucked out, finding the metal in the crust at nearly two to six parts per million based on geography. It is found on most other worlds in the Federation at point-two or point-three parts per trillion. But minute amounts are used in everything from radiation shielding, mechanical applications and precision instruments. We use it a lot in our warp cores because a thin layer can withstand the heat of warp plasma."

Neelix nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes. I would guess that an amount, roughly the size of my hand, would be enough to get all the antimatter you could ever need."

"Unfortunately we wouldn't be able to take it with us." Torres quipped dryly. "We can only store so much antimatter onboard without risking a catastrophe."

Janeway leaned in, tilting her head in a visible show of listening, "And if we offered replicated Beryllium?"

The Talaxian frowned, and then offered a mournful shrug. "I don't know. I'm not familiar enough with your technology to say what the difference would be."

"If we do use the replicators," the Doctor interjected from his screen on the wall, "I recommend the industrial one in engineering for maximum accuracy, as well as implementing appropriate hazardous gear when near it. Beryllium is highly toxic if inhaled, and can cause weakness, joint pain, difficulty breathing, and much more. It might be best to keep it in a vacuum sealed container to be safe. I would also not recommend keeping more than two-point-two kilograms on hand at any one time."

Nodding firmly, Janeway declared, "Fine then. Torres, I want a report on the differences between natural occurring Beryllium and the best we can replicate. Mr. Neelix, you know the region best, so I want you to get me a list of trading posts you recommend that are within thirty light-years of us along our course home. After I review it later, we'll set a new course and see what we can trade. And since I don't want to put all our eggs in the Beryllium basket, I want suggestions from everyone here about alternative trading options."

"Moving on," the captain continued, "aside from the constant energy issues, how are our food reserves?"

Kes leaned in and smiled sadly, "I've got half of cargo bay two converted into aeroponics, but it will take time for the seeds and plants to fully mature. At least a month before the first crops are ready."

"On the bright side," Neelix cut in, jumping to the defense of his girlfriend, "the reserves of raw fruits and vegetables we picked up so far should last a few months at the current pace."

Ensign Wildman leaned in and quietly offered, "In addition to the aeroponics, I would like to recommend the creation of an aquaponics farm in the other half of cargo bay two."

My eyes darted to the Science Officer like they were attached to a laser targeting system. I didn't know what changes happened to cause the blonde woman to be brought to the briefing room, but right now I wasn't going to complain. That idea was one I had been considering bringing up and dropping into a few ears, but she'd gotten to it before I could get the opportunity. Even better, it made more sense for a xenobiologist to have the idea than a soldier like myself.

Janeway looked at the young woman approvingly, like she was just seeing her for the first time. "Why should we work on aquaponics and not just continue to expand the aeroponics we already began?"

The younger woman hesitantly looked at the captain in the eye and nodded. "The system is low maintenance for one. It works by establishing a symbiotic relationship between the fish and plants. The plant roots provide the oxygen the fish need to live, while the fish provide the nutrients in the water for the plants to thrive. Other than checking the water to make sure it is balanced for both the fish and plants, it is largely hands-off."

"It does require a lot of water," she offered at, Janeway's disbelieving look, "much more than a typical hydroponic garden, but that is a simple enough thing to remedy. There are lots of water-rich comets in the galaxy. Additionally, the addition of fish and other water-born animals would also supplement the crew's diet."

"I'm a big fan of fish." Paris helpfully offered.

The captain glanced around the table, and not seeing anyone arguing against the idea, asked, "What are the downsides?"

Torres perked up, "Not many. There will need to be some thought given to design and fabrication, but our crews can get around to it."

"Design shouldn't be too difficult." Kim added, warming to the idea. "The first Lunar and Martian colonies used aquaponics as well. Plans should be in the computer. We should be able to adapt their early designs for the cargo bay as well as bring them up to date."

The Chief Engineer nodded along. "Agreed. There is also the issue of power to run the set up, but in the grand scheme of things it is really a minor drain. It's isolated and self-sufficient, so it shouldn't impact any other systems.

"And having fresh meat and more variety will certainly improve people's morale." Chakotay offered. "I would consider that more than worth the minor expenditure of resources."

Janeway leaned back into her chair, grinning at each of us in turn as she scanned the room, and said, "Alright, let's do it." She looked at Wildman and added, "Ensign, it sounds like a good idea and perfect for the science team. Coordinate with Kes so aquaponics and aeroponics both can be maximized in their available space. We might as well dedicate the entirety of cargo bay two to food production, which means we are going to need to make space for a third cargo bay somewhere. Mr. Kim, please provide me with suggestions by the end of the day for which storage rooms to expand into a third cargo bay, as well as how those choices will impact the ship and crew."

She looked down at a PADD in front of her, looking over the items on this week's agenda. "Okay, lets see what's next. The personnel situation. We've managed to find a replacement for the Transporter Chief, Chief Engineer, and astrogation plotter. We still need additional medical support to supplement the Doctor."

The EMH in question spoke up, "Someone who knows the difference between the typical tricorder and a medical tricorder would be nice."

Kes raised her hand a little and threw in, "I've been spending some time with the Doctor, and since tending to the aeroponics doesn't require too much attention, I would like to volunteer to help in sick bay. Maybe be an assistant."

"She is certainly more helpful than Mr. Paris," the Doctor added dryly.

Smiling warmly at the girl, Janeway nodded, "That sounds like a fine idea. It would certainly help the crew."

"On that same note," I raised my head, looking at the captain, "I want to schedule some time over the next month to bring the Doctor over to a holodeck and teach some field-medic basics to our Security forces. If that is alright with you, Doc?"

The stoic Doctor shrugged. "Certainly fine by me. Knowing that some more of the crew can help in an emergency will make my holographic life easier."

Chakotay stared hard at me as he asked, "Shouldn't Security teams already know basic first aid?"

"Most of them do," I replied, unconcerned. "For most of them it will be a refresher course since it is a skill most don't keep up with. Lack of use or need. However, for some reason, I recently got a large influx of former-Maquis assigned to me who never had to learn it. Hell, some of them have never held a phaser before. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that appalling lack of basic training, Provisional-Commander?"

The First Officer's expression darkened as he looked like he was about to take the obvious verbal bait, but Janeway raised her hands at the two of us and angrily ordered, "Enough!", the calm and magnanimous presence she'd been exuding gone so fast it was as if it never existed.

'Am I still holding a grudge against the man for sucker punching me in Sickbay? Maybe a little.'

"I don't care what the issue is between you two, but it is over." She demanded, staring at the both of us until she felt we had listened to her. "Mr. Shepard, your request is approved. How much time do you think it will take to get everyone up to Starfleet standards?"

I waffled my head side-to-side in thought for a few seconds, before answering, "I'm thinking of having the classes twice a week for a month, just to make sure I cover the basics needed. After that I would like to have follow up sessions every six weeks to make sure everyone remembers, but that will be part of my training simulators."

"Training simulators?" Tuvok asked.

I nodded at the Vulcan and replied, "Live fire training aids on the holodeck. Most of them may know Security protocols, but also have close to zero experience when it comes to actual fighting. Ironically, this is one of the few areas where the Maquis crew have an advantage over our own officers. My long term project is going to be getting them all up to stuff."

Janeway stared back at me levelly, lost in thought by the looks of it, before she finally said, "Well, I suppose this is as good a time as any to ask what other changes you are going to make to Voyager's Security teams."

Her voice displayed a false calm. I knew because I had to sit and listen to her yell at me for issuing the new Security uniforms for half an hour before she would let me offer my arguments as to why it was necessary in the first place. She'd made it clear that 'This isn't your Section, this is my crew' several times. Seventeen, in fact, as I'd started counting when I realized she was just repeating herself over and over again. Even then, after hearing all the logic and reason of MACO's being standard on certain long-term deep space "exploration" assignments and how the uniform was still Starfleet issue - just not implemented, Janeway had been extremely reluctant in allowing the change to continue. I still wasn't sure what finally made her allow it, especially given how I'd expected her to reject something simple, to give myself more leeway to covertly make larger changes. I wasn't sure if it was the fact that I wasn't budging, that my suggestion was technically in line with Starfleet regulations, or the fact Tuvok agreed with me when she called him in to back her up, but by the end of the day she had relented.

Personally I liked these uniforms much better than the ones the rest of the crew was wearing. For one thing, they had pockets on both thighs and upper arms. Actual, honest to god, pockets. There wasn't that much of a difference between it and the standard uniform the rest of the crew had: combat boots instead of dress shoes, the aforementioned pockets, and the division color being reduced to just a thin bar that ran across the shoulders and chest at collarbone height. It was still a two-piece black jumpsuit, although now the division color was shared with the undershirt.

"At the moment," I began to answer, "I'm not planning on anymore major changes. I need to first focus on getting everyone trained up. I'm going to implement some changes to tools and tactics, as I work out the kinks, but at the moment I'm more worried about getting everyone to understand how to avoid friendly fire. Or when not to avoid it."

"I would think you would always want to avoid that." Paris commented from his side of the desk.

In reply, I looked to Torres and asked, "If you were being held hostage, would you prefer your rescuer take the time to talk your assailant down? Or would you prefer we just shot you both with a phaser set on stun and sorted out the situation later?"

B'Elanna almost made me laugh when she cocked her head to the side and actually gave the question some thought. Thankfully I was able to hold my emotions in check, just long enough for her to answer, "I suppose that would depend on if I needed to run afterwards." I couldn't help but snort and smile at the young woman.

"An efficient solution," Tuvok offered, looking at me before glancing at the Chief Engineer to add, "and an excellent observation."

I got my mirth under control and added, "That is kind of thing I'm trying to get them all to think about. Different situations require different solutions."

Janeway nodded, her face what I would call carefully neutral, and then said to the room, "Well, I think that about covers everything we needed to talk about this week. Is there any other new business?"

"Actually," I spoke up, looking to the Captain in time to see annoyance flash across her face before tapping on my PADD, "I wondered if anyone else here has given any thought to the list of ships that have gone missing in the Badlands prior to us?"

That got everyone's attention, and I think I could see the wheels started to spin behind the eyes of several of the crew. "I think the Caretaker has been snatching people from the Badlands for a lot longer than anyone has considered. I've gone through the records, and over the last three decades the Badlands had a sharp upswing in missing ships."

Paris jumped in to add, "Now wait, the Badlands are a sea of persistent plasma storms and gravitational anomalies spanning eighty-four parsecs. There couldn't have been that many people trying their luck in there."

"You'd be surprised," the First Officer said, shooting a glance towards me. "Desperate people do desperate things."

"While that is true," I gave the Provisional-Commander a bone, "that doesn't explain the Cardassian Union reporting more than thirty vessels lost in the last decade alone."

"Wow," Torres gasped from her seat. "If the Cardassians admitted to that many, the real number must be much higher."

"The Bajoran Resistance," I went on, "used the Badlands as a refuge from Cardassian patrols. Or sometimes as a weapon itself, since the larger Cardassian ships had a more difficult time avoiding surprise plasma storms. That was the cause for most of their missing ships, but there wasn't always any wreckage."

"There wouldn't always be," Chakotay argued. "Sometimes the storms would wash over the area enough to remove any trace."

"Sometimes," I gave. "but not every time. And while the Federation risked fewer ships in that region, they suffered a similar rate of loss. From the records, for every six ships that entered the region, one ship would go missing without any sign of combat or any other anomaly being the cause."

Janeway looked down sadly, her face looking both hopeful and worried in equal measure. "You think we aren't the only Federation ship in the Delta Quadrant."

"I don't think we were the first or even the second ship pulled across the galaxy," I agreed. My own voice was pitched to match the tone of concern I should be conveying. "From the records of the last twelve month alone, there were eight Federation vessels that had gone missing."

As I passed her my padd with the information pulled up, I added, "Most of those ships were small craft that likely wouldn't have survived the trip. Of those listed, I think the top three would be our best bets to keep an eye out for; the Nova-Class USS Equinox, Norway-Class USS Lillehammer, and the Saber-Class USS Talwar. While small, they were at least the same size as the Val Jean and we know she made the trip."

What was worse, I wasn't even making this up. I knew for a fact that the Equinox was out here, but I'd never heard of those other two ships before. That no one had attempted to search for them and just assumed they were destroyed only made it worse. It was almost as if, prior to the Dominion War, Starfleet just didn't care too much about ship or crew losses. Who really needed to care when you knew you had a massive population who could just fill in the gaps, and enough production capability that even the material losses could be written off.

"Of those three," I emphasized, "I think we should really be looking for the Equinox. The Nova-class science vessel was the product of a project started by Admiral Toh. While it ultimately went in a very different direction, the early design that was used became the Nova-class."

"What was this original project?" the Vulcan asked beside me.

"Defiant Pathfinder. It was proposed as a torpedo fast attack ship." I answered, unphased even as everyone else at the table blinked at the idea of Starfleet designing a dedicated warship. Surely they had to know that not all starships had a purely exploration and science focus? If that was the case nearly every ship in the fleet would be considered overly armed and armored. "Interest in the project was fairly low, until the Battle of Wolf 359. Seeing forty ships brought down by one cube that suffered barely any damage scared the designers, and it shifted focus from a torpedo ship to a full on dedicated anti-Borg warship. The design they already had was shifted to the Nova-Class, removing some of the armaments to make more room for scientific equipment, while the new design would be closer to a pocket battleship."

Kim leaned forward and asked, "How the hell do you know so much about this?"

Janeway shared a glance with Chakotay and Tuvok, a silent question passing between them, but before she could say anything I replied, "Because I wanted on it. The prototype Defiant was officially commissioned last year, but last I heard Utopia Planitia was still working out some issues with it."

I went on to add, "But the Nova-class still carries some holdovers from its early warship design. Especially in structural reinforcement. That is why I think she is still in one piece."

"Neelix," I said, getting the Talaxian's attention. "When Voyager first found you, you were conducting salvage operations on a vessel the Caretaker brought to the Delta Quadrant, right?"

"Well, yes," the alien hesitated to admit. "The Caretaker brought a ship here at least every other week for the last few years. Many of them were able to limp away after he let them go, but occasionally something would happen to them before they got very far. I was recycling one of those when you found me. Usually, the Kazon would just attack them if they thought they could get away with it. Fortunately, the local Kazon faction wasn't very powerful, that battleship you so wonderfully destroyed was quite unexpected, and they kept the knowledge of the Caretaker strictly to themselves."

I nodded along. "Did you keep any records on your ship about vessels that passed by or arrived? You might have caught sight of one of these three ships, or others."

The Talaxian hummed to himself for a few seconds, before he began to bob his head energetically, "You know, I just might. After we are done here I'll go down to the shuttle bay and check my ships logs."

Janeway had been getting more and more interested in the conversation as it had gone on, and she was reading more from the report I'd put together. It didn't surprise me when she ordered, "Mr. Neelix, make that a priority. In fact, consider the meeting over. I want you to get on that now."

She looked up, making eye contact with all of us individually, "The chance that we might not be alone out here, is too important to ignore."

"Yes, Captain." the alien declared, standing ramrod straight before marching out the room.

"Well, Shepard? Anything else you want to throw at us before the rest of us leave?" Chakotay asked, smirking as Neelix ran out.

"Not at the moment, but we'll see what happens next week," was my reply.

"Regardless," Janeway began, her voice oddly light, "thank you for bringing this to our attention. This information might be very useful, and in any case we will keep our eyes open for other Alpha Quadrant ships in the region. Any friendly faces would be welcome."

"With that said, I think we all have our assignments. Dismissed," she commanded.

As I and everyone else stood, I turned to face the Chief Engineer and asked, "Torres, when would you have time to help me out on the Holodeck? I have a little project I think you might be perfect to help with."

"Depends," she replied, smirking. "Think you can talk the Captain into allowing Engineering to have those same pants as part of our uniforms?"

I didn't bother to hide my matching smirk, "I'll see what I can do."