22

The trip from Earth to Mars only took minutes at low warp aboard the shuttle, and before she knew it they had docked at Utopia Planitia.

"Welcome back," Jellico said as they stepped through the shuttle's rear hatch onto the deck of the station's spacious shuttlebay.

"Thank you," Janeway replied. "So, is Outbound Flight still here?"

"Their main ship left for Quadra Sigma III last week to set up a colony there. They sent another ship back to their galaxy and left one here with a few Jedi diplomats."

She frowned. "Where are they right now?"

"On Earth, I believe. From what I understand, they're having discussions with Starfleet on some possible joint training and operations."

"Really?" She thought back to when they had first boarded Outbound Flight, accidentally triggering a security alarm. The automated defenses had deployed, sending specialized "destroyer" droids to eliminate them. It was only after talking to Master Helsani that she realized just how close they had all come to being killed. Droidekas, he had said, were relentless pursuers and nearly impossible to disable with hand-held weapons.

Those would have been really useful for us on quite a few occasions, she realized.

"According to Master C'baoth," Jellico explained, "while their galaxy has not had a widespread conflict in the last thousand years, there are local disturbances every few years, so they do have a fair amount of knowledge and technology related to ground and space combat."

They walked around a bend in the corridor, and Janeway paused to glance out a nearby viewport at some of the ships outside. Most seemed to be heavily battle-damaged. "Did they say what their idea of a local disturbance is?"

He let out a forced laugh. "I think they would consider this war exactly that."

"In other words," she mused, "if they wanted to invade, we couldn't do much more than slow them down temporarily."

"My thoughts exactly," Jellico replied. "Which is why we need to get our hands on their technology. Even though they've done everything they can to help us so far, I don't know if everyone else in their galaxy is like that. It seems that Master C'baoth is a bit of an outcast among his own people."

"Well," Janeway replied, "their ship was attacked before it wound up here. I think somebody there wanted to get rid of them-and probably won't be too happy to find out they survived."

"Which just highlights the urgency of the situation," Jellico said. "And that brings me to why I brought you here. Since they are unwilling to allow us access to their hyperdrive at the moment, Starfleet has given the Daystrom Institute the green light to try and develop a working transwarp-class drive system from the technology you picked up in the Delta Quadrant."

Janeway's brow furrowed. "Were you planning on using Voyager as the testbed?"

"No," he replied. "The structural damage to the engineering section was too severe, so they wrote the ship off. After the engineers finish going over it I'm not sure if they plan on sending it to a museum or just scrapping it."

"Oh." She paused in thought. "I thought I saw some other ships earlier that were being fitted with new engineering hulls."

Jellico snorted in derision. "You mean the Frankenships. Starfleet is so hard up that they told us to start making torpedo wagons out of whatever we had lying around in the boneyards. Problem is, aside from the physical problems involved in welding several hulls together, most of the systems on the ships are completely incompatible. To give you an example, we had to install additional impulse reactors in most of the primary hulls because we couldn't match the EPS conduits from the engineering hull to the primary hull."

"Sounds like B'Elanna's worst nightmare," Janeway remarked.

"Let me tell you, it's any engineer's worst nightmare. The reputation of those ships is so bad, and most of them get sent to the front lines anyway, that being assigned to one is considered worse than being challenged to an honor duel by a Klingon." He looked out a nearby window and sighed. "What can I do? I've tried to tell them that it's not worth spending our resources on old garbage when we could put the same effort into new production. They won't listen."

"I had no idea things had gotten that bad since we left," she replied. "The updates we received didn't sound pretty, but this is even worse." She glanced back up at Jellico. "Why are you running a shipyard of all things? I thought you were commanding a task force over at the Cardassian border."

"I was," Jellico admitted. "About a year ago, Captain Sisko and Admiral Ross came up with a plan to retake Deep Space Nine and regain control of the wormhole. Second, Fifth, and Ninth fleets were to group at Starbase 375 where they would be joined by a Klingon battle fleet. In theory, we were supposed to have over a thousand ships at our disposal.

"Four days before we were supposed to launch, we received intel from operatives on Deep Space Nine that the Cardassians had found a way to shut down the minefield. There was an emergency meeting and Admiral Ross decided to launch while we had the element of surprise. Unfortunately for us, we only had about three quarters of the fleet ready, and the Klingons still hadn't agreed to help.

He shook his head sadly. "By the time we reached Bajor, the Cardassians had deactivated the minefield and the Dominion force was twice the size we expected it to be. We were outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and out of options before the battle even began."

"But you survived," Janeway stated.

"Yes," Jellico replied. "Barely. I was commanding a wing of Galaxy-class ships from the USS Magellan. Admiral Ross ordered me to hold my ships back while they probed the enemy lines for weaknesses using attack fighters. They found an opening in the Cardassian fleet. It looked deliberate, but we didn't have any other option so we went in phasers hot.

He let out a weak laugh. "I don't think the Cardies or the Dominion really thought we would take the option. We tore through the Cardassian defenses and went straight to Deep Space Nine, which was our secondary objective. Captain Sisko was certain that if we denied them the station, it would severely weaken their system defenses. I thought otherwise, but it didn't matter at that point. We succeeded in destroying the station and were about to head toward Bajor to try and escape when the Dominion dropped the hammer on us.

"The Klingons showed up a few minutes later, but at this point the Dominion had around three times the number of ships our intel had said. The only thing the Klingons succeeded in doing was providing enough of a distraction to allow the core of our fleet to escape."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Janeway remarked.

He let out another tired laugh. "It is when you look at the order of battle. We started with close to eight hundred ships and left with less than two hundred. The Dominion got access to the wormhole for the cost of Deep Space Nine and about twelve hundred ships. We've lost all of our agents in the Bajoran system, so Starfleet really has no idea how many ships they've diverted through the wormhole since.

"It was a disaster, plain and simple. And to top it off, Admiral Ross and Captain Sisko were killed when the flagship was rammed by Jem'Hadar attack ships. I was the most senior officer left, so Starfleet blamed me."

"By promoting you to Admiral?"

"Well, I was a hero to some for at least getting them out alive, so they were forced to recognize that. Grudgingly, I suppose."

He raised his arms up and waved them at their surroundings before letting them fall back to his waist. "So here I am. A supposed failure of an Admiral, running a shipyard in the middle of the most critical trial this Federation has ever faced." He looked the captain straight in the eyes. "I'll be damned if I can't do anything about this, and that is where you come in."

She was quiet for a moment while the words sank in. "What do you mean?"

"You'll see," he said cryptically. The corridor ended at another set of doors that slid apart with a quiet whoosh, opening onto another shuttlebay. Jellico gestured toward the nearest one which sat with its hatch opened, and she climbed up inside. A moment later, the Admiral passed her and took his seat at the controls.

"Please, sit," he gestured to the co-pilot's seat next to him. "The view is better this way."

She regarded him skeptically as she sat down. "I doubt you brought me all the way out here for sightseeing and a chat."

The shuttle rose and slipped out of the bay in silence while Jellico worked the controls. "You're right," he finally said, rounding one of the station's docking pylons. "But you must admit this is an excellent view."

They swept past a series of interlinked space docks, each one holding a starship in partial stages of completion. Janeway counted four Akira-class gunships and three plow-shaped Steamrunner-class frigates, along with some ships that she coudn't quite identify.

"Our main contribution to the war effort," Jellico said as he followed her gaze. The shuttle began curving away from the space docks and was soon approaching the opposite side of the orbital shipyard, where yet more interlinked frameworks littered the horizon. Spread in between frameworks were battle-damaged hulls anchored by tractor beams. "Welcome to the Frankenship yards," he stated, voice dripping with disdain.

"Is that Voyager?" Janeway asked, pointing to an Intrepid primary hull that had most of its duranium armor plating torn off, revealing the truss structure below.

The Admiral squinted. "That's it."

"Would you mind taking us closer?" Janeway asked.

"I seem to have misjudged you," he replied. "You have a sentimental streak."

"No," she corrected him. "Not sentimental. Just curious."

As they drew closer, she could make out the yellow worker bees of the shipyard hands flying around the primary hull. Several were welding or cutting at remaining portions of the armor, while others were removing parts from the internal areas of the ship.

She was reminded of flies buzzing around a rotting carcass. It's just a ship, she told herself. Yet the sight remained just as disturbing as before.

"I've seen enough," she said after watching for several more long moments. "Please, continue."

Jellico turned the shuttle and weaved his way through more spacedocks and junked ships before finally slowing down in front of one that held what seemed to be a complete starship. As they cleared the edge of the spacedock, Kathryn drew a sharp breath. The streamlined arrowhead shape within was unmistakable.

"What's Prometheus doing here?" she asked.

"It's a perfect example of the kind of waste that Starfleet has become known for," he replied acerbically.

She looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean? It destroyed a Romulan Warbird."

"Starfleet spent twenty years and countless worker hours developing the multi-vector assault system," he retorted, "and all it can do is chase off a Romulan or Klingon threat that doesn't exist. It's a waste against the Dominion and worse than useless against the Borg."

He lined the shuttle up with Prometheus's narrow shuttlebay entrance and guided it in for a smooth landing.

"So what are you doing with it?" she asked.

With a slight shudder, the shuttle landed on the deck and Jellico activated the ramp. "We're converting it into a unified ship," he replied as he stood up. "We already removed almost two thousand tons of armor plate from the internal structure, reinforced the frame, and welded the sections back together. This ship should now be faster, more efficient, and stronger than it was before."

She followed Jellico out on the shuttlebay deck. Crates, loose equipment, and parts were scattered haphazardly around the walls. "So you're turning it back into a traditional battlecruiser," she surmised.

"That's the goal," Jellico agreed. "Right now it's down to the armament it had in its normal mode, since we had to take out all the internal weapons."

"Are you going to add more?" she asked.

Jellico shook his head. "Not immediately. Starfleet sees this as a technology demonstrator." The turbolift doors slid open and they stepped inside. "Deck 12, Engineering."

"A demonstrator for what?" Janeway asked once the doors had closed.

"They want to see if this class is worth funding," he replied. "As well as a few other things. Here we go."

Having never been in the Engineering section of the Prometheus before, Janeway didn't know what to expect when the doors slid open. She had heard how the ship used four compact warp cores to provide power while separated, so the pancaked warp core at the back of Engineering didn't come as too much of a surprise. What did come as a surprise was the glowing sphere that sat in its own area in front of the warp core.

"You didn't," she stated in disbelief. "So that's what you meant."

Jellico smiled. "Now you're beginning to see the picture."

"This is why you brought me here. It wasn't even about Voyager."

"Yes, and no."

Janeway looked around herself and noted the general state of disarray that the engineering area was in. "I would also guess that you're still nowhere near completion."

"Quite true."

"Well, it doesn't matter either way," she said with a sigh. "I'm suspended from active duty."

He gave her another one of his infuriating smiles. "I may be stuck here, but I still have some pull with Starfleet," he replied. "This is your command, assuming you still want it."

"How did you manage that?" she asked, stunned.

His smile widened. "Well, the case I made to Starfleet Command was that you are the only active captain in Starfleet to have experience using a transwarp-class drive. I also recall you had very high marks on your previous science missions, so this assignment just made sense. You are interested, right?"

"Yes, but..." Her voice trailed off as he brain struggled to process all the information. "Just how did they manage to build a quantum slipstream core in only three weeks? We worked for months on one and it still nearly killed us all!"

"It's just a mock-up," Jellico replied. "They wanted to make sure it would fit. The real thing is still undergoing design review at the Daystrom Institute."

"I see." There was a long pause while she considered the implication of his statements. "So is there any word about the crew yet or is it too early to ask?"

Jellico nodded. "I've been told that Starfleet plans on assigning an expert engineering crew. Who that consists of, I have no idea. We should have more information about a month before we launch."

"If you don't mind," Janeway asked, "could you request B'Elanna Torres and Seven of Nine? I would trust those two more than any so-called experts in Starfleet when it comes to quantum slipstream drives."

"I've already asked," Jellico said, "but I was told that both of them are still awaiting debriefing. I'll see if I can light some fires in Command and get the ball rolling."

"Thank you, Admiral."

He held up his hand. "No need to thank me. If anything, thank you. This technology is vital to the Federation and I'm glad to have an experienced captain on board.

.

.

"We've arrived in the Ocampa system, Sir."

Captain Yates slowly opened one eye to the pitch darkness of his quarters. A small red light was blinking barely a foot away on the intercom unit, and he reached out to tap it. He realized a moment later that he had missed as several items went crashing down to the deck, and made a second attempt to hit the button.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," he replied, shutting the intercom off. "Room, lights on half."

The lights gradually rose in brightness, giving his eyes time to adjust. Yates ripped the sheets off himself, swung his legs out, and proceeded to go through the motions of getting dressed all while his mind was churning at a klick per second.

According to Maje Zerin, Ocampa was one of the systems they had claimed as their territory, but other than a massive space station operated by a powerful being known as the 'Caretaker', there really was very little of value. Since Voyager had destroyed the station years before, and hence doomed the native inhabitants to a slow heat death, the Kazon had essentially abandoned it and moved on to more fruitful pursuits.

Yates, however, wanted to see the remains of this array for himself. Given the technical sophistication (or lack thereof) of the Kazon, he considered it a very real possibility that they had overlooked something.

"How does the situation look?" he asked Commander Rowin as he stepped out of the turbolift.

"Frankly, it's a mess," Rowin replied. "We've located a debris field orbiting the fifth planet that appears to be the remains of the array Zerin described. However, we have counted at least twenty small freighters in the field."

"Scavengers?"

"It would appear so."

"Great." Yates wanted to sigh. Just when it seemed like they would have a break in their search, he was being forced to fight more natives for the information. "Have you picked up any transmissions from them?"

"No. Several of them have fired on each other since we arrived, however, so it would stand to reason that not all of them are allied."

Yates placed a hand on his chin in thought. "I suppose if we just try to capture them, we'll just manage to scare them off."

"Well," Rowin began, "if they behave similar to scavengers from our galaxy, then we could pose as interested buyers."

"Which leaves this ship out of the picture as it would be too intimidating," Yates replied, "but a shuttle should work."

"I'll begin preparations immediately."

.

.

Corporal Landot was bored.

So far, he had spent over three hours aboard a Lambda-class shuttle. On one of the civilian models, that would not necessarily be a bad thing - depending on what the buyer was prepared to pay, you could get anything from extra plush acceleration couches to full on sleeping quarters. However, the Empire never had been one to splurge on its military hardware, and it showed in the basic, rock-hard passenger seats that filled about half of the shuttle's hold area.

For what was probably the hundredth time, he looked across the aisle at the Navy lieutenant sitting there. Presumably in command of the mission, Lieutenant Ray Kavel was one of the wet-behind-the-ears sorts who had never really had a chance to do things any other way besides the textbook method. Which, Rob reflected, was kind of sad given that Lt. Kavel had been a lieutenant for the better part of four years already.

Come to think of it, that's probably why he's still a lieutenant. There was an old saying among stormtroopers... the most dangerous thing in the Imperial Army was a second lieutenant with a map and direction-finder.

He leaned over to take a glance at the datapad that Kavel was cradling in his lap. The lieutenant had been focused on the thing since they had left the ship. Given the simplicity of their mission, Rob found it hard to believe that Ray was still going over the mission briefing.

Sure enough, the datapad was currently displaying an exaggerated caricature of a Twi'lek woman. Dating sim, Rob thought with amusement. Then, for lack of anything better to do, he decided to play with the lieutenant's head.

After all, isn't that what Lieutenants are for?

"So, have you discovered any exciting new revelations about our mission?"

Ray shrugged. "We're going to try negotiating with unknown alien races for some technology that may or may not even be functional. Seems like a roundabout way to go when we could have just jumped in, tractored in the freighters, and interrogated them."

"Well," Rob slowly remarked, "if you were actually reading the mission briefing, you would know that command decided against that because of how spread out the freighters are. They didn't want to risk scaring everyone away."

"What difference does it make?" Ray asked. "We're still going to negotiate."

Rob shrugged. "Speaking of which, how are the negotiations going with that Twi'lek chick you've got there?"

"What?" Ray glanced around himself, cheeks flushing crimson. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Cut the nerf crap," Rob replied. "I saw you playing that sim. Let me guess, you've been working at her for three hours and still haven't gotten to first base yet."

Defeated, Ray let his shoulders slump. "No. I've been insulted, slapped, kicked in the groin, and pretty much everything else so far."

Rob snorted quietly. "Kriff, man, what did you do to her?"

"Nothing!" Ray protested. "The game's manual said compliments and presents were the best way to get the girls, but every time I try to compliment her she gets angry, and the presents just get thrown back at me!"

"Well, what have you been saying?"

Ray shrugged. "Oh, you know, just normal pickup lines... stuff like that."

Rob wanted to break out laughing, but covered his mouth. "Let me get this straight... you're trying pickup lines on a simulated character?"

"What's wrong with that?"

Unable to contain himself, Rob broke out in laughter. "Because pickup lines only work in the holovids! They don't work in real life!"

Ray frowned. "What do you mean? Sure they work."

The corporal cocked his head to the side and stared at the lieutenant with an incredulous look. "OK, I'll bite. When did a pickup line work for you?"

"Um..." Ray considered the question. "That cantina we were at on Nar Shaddaa the time we went on leave there. Real nice girl, too... and sweet kriff, she was good in bed. Too bad I never got her info."

Rob started laughing even harder, much to Ray's consternation. "Let me ask you this... Was she there the next morning? How about your wallet, was that still there?"

The lieutenant's mouth fell open. "Wait a second. You mean..."

Rob nodded slowly. "Yep."

"Kriff!" Ray exclaimed. "And that was about a month's pay she took, too. Well, at least that explains the rash I had down there a week later..."

Landot doubled over in laughter. "Ray, you're a born sucker if I ever saw one."

"I am not!"

"Right. Just keep telling yourself that. I'll go grab some popcorn."

Ray's face suddenly became serious. "You can't talk to a superior officer like that."

"Oh, I'm sorry... did I push your buttons? Here, let me get a handkerchief... Oh, right, I don't have any."

"I'm warning you..."

"Oh yeah?" Rob leaned forward. "So, any ideas what you're going to do?"

"Don't tempt me."

"Hey, Corporal," Sergeant Kriglen suddenly spoke up. "Don't annoy the Lieutenant. He's sensitive." The remark was followed by muffled snickering from the other troopers in the seats behind.

"Yes, Sergeant," Rob said, snapping off a deliberately sloppy salute. More snickering followed and Ray turned away.

"I hate you guys."

Rob sat quietly for a few moments after the remark. "That's OK, we all love you anyway." The snickering turned into loud snorts and chuckles.

"That's enough!" Ray finally snapped, jumping to his feet and tossing the datapad aside. "I know you guys are the largest group of pranksters and jackasses outside Corellia, but we have a kriffing mission to do here!"

"Says the one playing the dating sim," someone muttered.

"You know what, private?" Ray shot a glare that could pierce durasteel. "I don't have to explain myself to you. Don't forget that I'm the most senior officer aboard this ship."

The cabin of the shuttle became quiet enough to hear the creaking of stormtrooper armor.

"Right. Corporal, you were asking about our plan. Well, here it is..."

.

.

Several hours later, after they had unloaded the shuttle inside Diversion's tiny hangar, Lt. Kavel found himself being stared down by an obviously irritated Lt. Whenne.

"You were supposed to be looking for anything resembling a computer core or data storage unit," Whenne said morosely, gesturing to the pile of burnt and scorched metal pieces. "What the hell do you call this?"

"This was all they had!" Ray retorted.

"Kriff. And no doubt Captain Yates is still looking for me to pull some sort of useful information out of this pile of alien junk." The analyst palmed his face. "This could take me forever, assuming any of this crap is even from a computer!"

Ray picked up a slightly scorched piece of metal that was imprinted with alien glyphs. "The scavenger I got this from said it was a computer," he offered.

Whenne grabbed the piece out of Ray's hands and looked it over thoroughly. "Yeah. It's from a computer alright. It's a kriffing piece of sheet metal, you idiot!"

"Well how was I supposed to know the difference? It's alien technology!"

The analyst held the piece up in front of Ray's nose and pointed to it. "See this? There are no circuit traces, no connectors, plugs, sockets, wires, or fibers of any sort on this sheet of Force-knows-what kind of alloy. All there is is printed lettering on one side. This is not a piece of a computer."

"OK! Fine! I get it, I'm wrong. So is anything we brought back computer-related, or do I have to go do this all over again?"

Whenne sighed. "Let's spread this pile out so I can see what you got. I hope for your sake there's something useful in here."

"Yeah," Ray groaned, stooping down to grab several pieces. "Tell me about it."