"I was right in a way, I'd find us a way home," Captain Janeway said as Voyager prepared to take one of the two Borg transwarp hubs in the Delta Quadrant back to the Alpha Quadrant. A version of her from an alternate timeline twenty-eight years in the future had come here to save them from another torturous two decades or so. To sabotage said hub in the process would deal an incredible blow to one of the Federation's greatest enemies.

That future was not just a matter of delay; it would see dozens more casualties. Seven of Nine would die – the young woman, liberated from the Borg Collective, had become like a daughter to her, and Kathryn was immensely proud of her progress back to Human nature. That progress happened to include a daughter of her own, courtesy of Harry Kim. He would never be the same.

They were hardly the only couple and hardly had the only child aboard. The journey home would've taken seventy years at conventional warp speed. Voyager had needed to endlessly improvise including the possibility of becoming a generational ship. Now, with luck, they'd have it cut down to five years.

And all this had started with a three week mission to locate a Maquis vessel on which her old friend Tuvok was undercover. Tuvok would be another one of the casualties, crippled by a mental illness that would be easily cured if he got back to Vulcan in time. He was an exemplar of his species' mental discipline towards logical thought, and Captain and Admiral Janeway both hated the thought of him being laid low in that manner.

They'd found the Maquis, all right - in the same predicament. The original plan was to bring them back to stand trial. Now they'd been brought into her crew. Their leader would be standing next to her at a wedding rather than across from her in a courtroom. She'd found Chakotay to be a deeply caring man, feelings that overwhelmed each other when stranded on an away mission three years ago. You didn't need to have Seven's aptitude for mathematical reasoning to see the correlation with Kathryn's barely over two year old daughter.

That was hardly the only personal relationship between Starfleet and ex-Maquis. Over two years ago, B'Elanna Torres had been infected with Vorik's pon farr, but had chosen to slake that thirst with Tom Paris. Voyager's womanizing helmsman hadn't required much convincing and hadn't exactly settled down. A hot-tempered Klingon with all the fury of Vulcans' illogical side made for a tempestuous relationship. They were constantly reporting to sickbay for injuries sustained during intimate relations. Other crew quartered on deck 9 section 12 were presenting themselves to the Doctor due to sleep deprivation. Their first child was coming any moment now. Seven was impeccably calm, but had made her intentions just as clear to Harry Kim, who also had the sense to act on the proposition.

Admiral Janeway had given Captain Janeway advanced torpedoes and armor, and sacrificed herself to distract the Borg. Voyager rode the torpedo shockwave into a Borg sphere and then destroyed that sphere from the inside.

"Sensor data indicates that we are in the Alpha Quadrant of 2375."

"Astrometrics confirms," Seven reported.

"But in Cardassian space."

"Set course for Deep Space 9, maximum warp. Ensign Earhart, relieve Ensign Paris."

Ben Sisko bellowed. "Captain Tighe, Are. You. Sure?" Sam Tighe had command of the USS Janeway; Admiral Edward Janeway had died testing the small heavily armed Terra Nova along with Sam's brother Justin. The USS Defiant had ultimately succeeded in packing so much power in so tiny a space; Janeway was one of Defiant's many sister ships which had proven invaluable against the invaders from the Gamma Quadrant.

"Afraid so. Borg vessel in our rear." This was already a desperate battle for Starfleet, hopefully striking the final blow to the Dominion after years of painful struggle for the Federation and Klingon Empire, and recently the Romulan Empire. He had been constantly on the front lines. They could not afford another enemy, an enemy intensely personal to him; the Borg had murdered his first wife.

"Sisko to flag squadron. Prepare to destroy the Borg." Defiant was about to serve its original intended purpose.

Apparently that wouldn't be necessary. "The Borg vessel is disintegrating – there's a starship inside … appears Federation … Intrepid-class. Er, looks like we found another Janeway. It's Voyager." Edward's daughter Kathryn had command, and had been stranded halfway across the galaxy. Not anymore. Now they were stranded in the middle of a raging battlefield.

"Jaysus!" Miles O'Brien certainly had reason for his favorite exclamation.

Tighe, in closest proximity, had the honor of the official welcome. "Glad to have you back."

"Looks like our comrades need some help," Captain Janeway answered.

Admiral Ross, the senior officer in the field, officially put them under his command and ordered them to aid the Defiant in reinforcing the Romulan line. Just one of Voyager's torpedoes detonated a Jem'Hadar battleship. For once, the Dominion was on the run from advanced Federation technology.

Sisko hadn't felt so much relief since the countermeasure for the Breen energy dampening weapon. The first USS Defiant was lost to the device; Ross had ensured another was renamed in its honor. The Klingons had held the line, their designs more quickly leading to a defense.

Voyager had reported in about a year and half ago, and had just provided an update in dramatic fashion. Not only could she be definitively removed from casualty reports, her payload could significantly lessen the additions to them.

"Priority one communication to Starfleet Command. USS Voyager came out of a vortex in Cardassian space and is currently helping to engage the Dominion."

"Damned good news, Farragut."

"I saw your son on viewscreen rushing off the bridge." His relief at helm looked familiar but Ross couldn't place her.

"Glad to hear it. Paris out."

Ensign Nog remained at the conn on Defiant. O'Brien at the engineering station had taken a blow to the shoulder. It looked like he'd survive to take that job as an engineering professor at the Academy. Worf was his acting first officer; Kira was on the planet's surface doing what she did best, waging guerilla warfare. May the Prophets be with her. On the Defiant class, the counselor, if there even was one, only came on the bridge if she knew how to blow shit up too. Ezri Dax was at the comms station, at least discussing what was blown up and what was not.

Like Admiral Paris, an ensign back at Deep Space 9 had loved ones on Voyager. Gres, as he was known in most Humans' mouths, had hosted memorials with other friends and family of the lost crew, now turned into celebrations. Would those hopes be dashed only five light years from friendly territory?

His wife, unbeknownst to either of them, had been pregnant when she left. So there was a four year old on that ship. There had been no time to unload the civilians before battle was upon them, and Sisko knew all too well the sorrow that could stem from that. "'Jaysus' is right, Chief."

A Breen ship was pummeling Defiant and suddenly stopped … maybe one of Voyager's advanced torpedoes had managed to actually hit one of the slippery bastards… Yet the viewscreen showed Galor rather than Intrepid class relief.

Ross had more good news for Starfleet Command. "The Cardassian fleet has switched sides." Their CO had reported that the Dominion had leveled Lakarian City in retaliation for sabotage of the planet's communication systems, an act which had enraged rather than cowed the Founders' former allies.

"Never thought we'd be fighting alongside Cardassians," Voyager reported. The Maquis leader she'd been sent after was now her first officer. They had heard the Jem'Hadar had stamped out their Maquis colleagues, making the war against the Dominion personal even for those who had been away from it.

Sisko had prevailed upon Ross and Romulan general Vetal to press on to Cardassia – they knew it would be bloody, but more winnable than allowing the Dominion to regroup – the Founders could produce Jem'Hadar troops and their ships at a frightening rate. Martok, leader of the Klingon Empire, remained a soldier more than a politician. He was eager for battle, and he'd sure get it.

Kathryn Janeway was one hell of a pinch-hitter, knocking Jem'Hadar capital ships out of the park. In one of the great moments of baseball history, no one had expected Los Angeles' star batter to play on two bad legs, but he had come out of the dugout to strike the winning blow. In a year that has been so improbable, the impossible has happened! seemed to befit 2375 as well as 1988. Yet that had been Game 1.