"New Hope"
Story by Penny A. Proctor
Written by Penny A. Proctor & Andra Marie Mueller

RATING: PG
SUMMARY: Written as a part of the Virtual Season 7.5 series. Voyager's marooned on an unknown world and the crew must adapt to their dliemma.
AUTHORS' NOTE: The clock displayed at the start of each scene indicates time elapsed from the ship's landing.

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PROLOGUE

(-00:03)

Colonel Rahl of the Vordai Space Defense Force sat in the command chair of his ship and tried to stay awake. It was a quiet day. They are all quiet days in this parsec, Rahl thought, and wondered how his career had come to be stalled here.

Eleven years ago, this parsec had been the center of activity in the region, the place where the four great powers contended for the right to colonize the only uninhabited planet in the region capable of supporting life without terraforming. This had been the place where promotions came almost weekly and a sapling could demonstrate its strength. Eleven years ago, Rahl himself had gained the attention of the High Command here, protecting the integrity of the Vordai claim against the forces of the Gunrath'u Oligarchy, the Minenne Confederacy and the Grevel-Ash Republic. Back then, he had dreamed of commanding a warship, possibly even the magnificent Arbor Queen herself.

But that was then. Today, Rahl commanded a lowly patrol ship that merely led other patrol ships. Today, the Gunrath'u-imposed peace and the treaty governing access to the Treaty World, as it was now known, made this patrol superfluous. There were no enemy ships, no probes and no surprises - just day after day of monotony.

"Colonel!"

The urgency in the voice of his normally unflappable Subaltern startled Rahl from his thoughts. "What is it, Pahn?"

"A ship just dropped out of transwarp," she said, pointing to the blinking light on the display.

He stiffened. "Is it Borg?"

"No, I think not. The shape is not geometric - not a sphere or a cube. It's not in our records at all."

Rahl bent down and looked at the data more closely. "You're right. No one in this sector has a design like that." By the Great Forest, he thought, this is a new species. And they have transwarp. "Go to level two scanners."

Pahn's delicate fingers flew skillfully over her panel, and the new, more detailed data appeared. "That ship is in trouble," she said. "No engines, environmental systems failing ... Sir --" she looked up at him, her nostrils flaring in the unmistakable reaction to sudden fear -- "that ship is heading for the Treaty Planet."

It took less than a second to see that she was right. He hit the communications system. "Attention Alpha Wing. This is Colonel Rahl. A ship of unknown origin is about to crash or land on the Treaty Planet. Follow it but do not engage. I want data, not casualties."

"Going to level one scan," Pahn said. "There are about 150 life signs on board. Several different species, I think. I don't recognize any of them."

Rahl swallowed. Several new species? What was this ship?

Whatever it was, it was going down hard. The screen showed the streak of the ship breaking through the planet's atmosphere. "Alpha leader," Rahl said, "Can you give me visual?"

"Affirmative." Rahl turned as his viewscreen lit up. The alien ship was as big as the Vordai flagship, the Arbor Queen herself, but looked like nothing he had ever seen. There were markings on the hull that were obscured by the heat surrounding the great ship. "Too fast," he said aloud. "It is coming in too fast."

As if the strange ship had heard him, it shuddered and seemed to pause for just a moment, hanging in the troposphere. Then the descent began again, still swift but not fatally so. Someone tried a desperate maneuver and it worked, he thought. At least it's headed for the steppes on the southern continent. They've still got a chance.

In seconds, the ship plowed into the ground, churning dirt and rock meters in every direction. It bounced twice and then stabilized abruptly, shaking visibly. "They must be equipped for landing," Rahl said, more to himself than to Pahn. "Stabilizers of some kind, I think. They must have gotten a grip on the surface."

"Who are they?" Pahn asked.

"I don't know." Rahl found himself smiling. This sector was going to get hot again. There might even be a promotion in it.

*****

ACT ONE

(00:00)

Harry Kim raised himself from the deck slowly. His head and shoulder were throbbing, but his thought processes were working clearly. The ship was down and he was alive. He tested that theory gently, shaking his head slightly. Yes, that hurt. He was definitely alive.

The Bridge was filled with smoky haze and dust, the aftereffects of the automated fire suppression system. The acrid smell of burned circuitry stung his nostrils, and the lighting was strange, as if the heavy particles still swirling in the air were themselves illuminated. Most of all, the ship was quiet. There were no klaxons or alarms sounding, and no one was talking. The only sounds he heard were an occasional electrical crackle and some soft moaning.

Voyager was down. And he, Lieutenant (j.g.) Harry Kim, was still in command.

Struggling, he pulled himself back into the captain's chair. "Report," he said, and coughed.

No one responded immediately, and fear flashed through Harry. Was he the only one who made it? Then he heard someone else cough from the direction of the helm.

"We've landed," he heard Tom say in an unnaturally thick voice.

Relief washed through him; he wasn't alone. "You call that a landing?" he asked dryly, trying to joke but he knew that Tom had done a hell of a job. Barely five minutes earlier, Harry had been convinced they were going to crash. He had seen the surface of the planet seemingly rush up to meet them, and he had resigned himself to imminent death.

"Hey," Tom wheezed. "We're alive, aren't we? That's a landing."

The haze was clearing enough that Harry could make out the silhouette of his friend, still on his knees. "Who else is with us? Sound off."

"Jenkins," came Lora's voice from the same direction as Tom. Harry squinted and thought he saw Tom help her to her feet. "I don't think I'm hurt. That was something, wasn't it?"

"Sometimes I think we have a guardian angel," Tom replied quietly.

"Ayala. I'm okay." Harry swiveled and saw that the big man had been thrown nearly two meters from the Tactical Station. "Can't say the same for this console. It's dead."

"Me, too," Jamie McMinn said from Operations, sounding shaken. "Wait - I don't mean I'm dead, I mean I'm okay, I think. Ow. Maybe not. I think my ankle is broken."

Tom went to the locker to fetch the emergency medkit on the deck as one by one, the rest of the Gamma shift Bridge crew called out. Harry nodded with satisfaction. All were accounted for. At least that was something. "What's working on this ship?" he called. The data monitor built into the command chair was not functional. "Where's the emergency power? We need communications! Can anyone see anything in this haze?"

"I've got a tricorder," Ayala said from somewhere forward on the deck. "The atmosphere is safe." Then Harry heard the sound of a hatch opening and turned to his left. Ayala had opened the emergency hatch that went from the Bridge to the hull and the haze began to drift outside. As it dissipated, the reason for the odd lighting became apparent. The viewscreen, which had been in forward axial view for the descent, was now essentially a large window, revealing a broad grassy plain that ended in a forest, with mountains on the horizon. Sunshine streamed onto Voyager's Bridge.

It felt wrong.

"Emergency power isn't working," Ayala said, stating the obvious, in Harry's opinion. "Security on each deck will initiate the disaster plan. We'll establish communications through runners. It's likely that each deck is getting organized now."

The disaster plan. Yes, this is definitely a disaster, Harry thought, and without even emergency power, how am I supposed to get the data I need to make decisions? "Get someone to Engineering. I need damage reports and to know when we'll have power. And distribute side arms, Lieutenant. As of now, all officers are to be armed until the commanding officer declares the ship secure."

Tom looked up from where he was kneeling beside McMinn with the medical tricorder. Harry saw that there was a trickle of blood on his cheek and his right eye was already blackening. "I'll go to Engineering."

"No, I need you here." Before Tom could protest, he added, "I'm sorry. But you're the most senior officer on the Bridge, even if I'm sitting in this chair. And we've got injured."

"Send me to Engineering." Tom's voice was level but Harry recognized the tone - his mind was made up. Harry understood why; B'Elanna was well into her final trimester and Tom was surely worried about her and the baby. The helmsman stood, folding the tricorder and replacing it in the medkit. "You don't need me here. McMinn's ankle is sprained, not broken. No one else on the Bridge is hurt, and I won't be any good to you here. We won't be needing the helm for a while."

Harry hesitated, then nodded. "All right, go. Go down and find out when they'll have communications up, then go to Deck Five and check on the Doc. If he didn't download himself into his mobile emitter, you're our chief medic. If you have to stay in Sickbay, send someone up with your report."

With a quick nod, Tom picked up a phaser - the disaster plan called for all officers to be armed - and a wrist light from the storage locker and headed for the Jefferies tube and pulled the hatch open. Harry called after him, "And see if you can find the captain, or Chakotay. Or Tuvok." Silently he added, Please find them. Just one of them. He wasn't ready to be the commander of a planet bound starship.

*****

(00:03 - 00:10)

It was pitch black and eerily quiet inside the port turbolift as Voyager's command officers struggled to their feet. The lift had dropped several decks before suddenly jerking to a stop, and for a few heart stopping moments Janeway and Chakotay had feared they would meet their deaths at the bottom of the shaft.

"Are you all right, Kathryn?"

"I think I've managed to bruise a few places I didn't know could be bruised, but otherwise I'm fine," Janeway responded. "What about you?"

"No permanent damage."

"Any guesses as to what happened?"

"Off the top of my head I'd say we've landed," Chakotay answered.

"Or been attacked," Janeway added.

The XO shook his head, forgetting for a moment that she could not see the gesture. "I don't think so. If somebody wanted to take us out of commission, they would have either destroyed Voyager outright or replaced our crew with theirs. Something has happened to the ship itself."

The captain tapped her combadge. "Janeway to Bridge."

No response.

"Well communications are obviously off line," she said. "Computer, resume lift to Deck One."

Again, no response.

"I suppose it would have been too much to hope that the turbolifts would actually be functional," Chakotay remarked, unable to stifle a sudden thought that popped into his mind. This isn't exactly what I had in mind when I fantasized about being stuck in a turbolift with Kathryn.

Shaking off his inappropriate musings, he returned his attention to the situation at hand. "Where do you think we are?"

"I have no idea, but we're definitely closer to the bottom of the ship than the top. If we can climb the shaft to the nearest deck, we should be able to reach the Jefferies tubes and figure out our location from there."

"Assuming the Jefferies tubes are still accessible," Chakotay returned.

"We don't have a choice. If the lift starts falling again, then we're going straight down and I'd rather not be turned into a Human pancake. We need to get to the Bridge to find out what's happened and take stock of the casualties and damage."

"Yes, Ma'am," Chakotay concurred. "Well, it's a good two hour climb to reach the Bridge, so we'd better get started. Hopefully we'll encounter someone else along the way who can tell us what happened." He glanced upward. "It looks like we're going to have to do this the hard way. I'll boost you up first and then follow after you're safely out of the lift."

Janeway nodded and walked over to stand beside Chakotay as he jimmied with the control panel and managed to use the manual release to open to the escape hatch in the roof of the lift. Once it was open, Chakotay turned to Janeway and cupping his hands together as a makeshift step, braced himself to hoist her up. The captain placed her hands on his shoulders and used her own momentum as well as the extra inertia from Chakotay to lift herself up and into the hatch, making a concerted effort to ignore the unintentionally intimate position her proximity to her First Officer created.

Easy, Kathryn, she chided herself.

Grunting with effort of lifting herself up, Janeway at last managed to haul her body through the emergency hatch and collapsed with an audible thud on the roof of the lift.

"I'm getting too old for this," she muttered.

"Captain?"

"Just talking to myself, Commander," she responded, and reached an arm through the hatch to grab Chakotay's hand. "Your turn."

Grabbing Janeway's hand, Chakotay braced himself on the railing and used his other hand to grab the edge of the open hatch. Gritting his teeth against the strain on his shoulders and upper arms, with Janeway's assistance he managed to haul himself up and through the open hatch and collapsed on the turbolift roof beside the captain.

"I'm getting too old for this," he muttered.

Janeway smiled at his repetition of the sentiment she had voiced only moments before. "I know the feeling," she replied, and got to her feet. "Come on; it looks like Deck Nine is only about five feet above us. We can climb to the emergency manual release and open the doors, then once we're on the deck we can access the nearest Jefferies tube and make our way to the Bridge."

"Let's go."

*****

(00:30 - 01:00)

Traveling from Deck One to Deck Eleven via Jefferies tubes normally took an hour and forty minutes, crawling and climbing at a normal pace in normal light. In darkness relieved only by his wrist light, Tom reached Deck Six in just thirty minutes, not caring that his hands were raw from friction burns caused by sliding down ladders instead of climbing, and his knees were raw and scraped through his uniform. He opened the hatch to reach the ladder that went down to the next level and almost bumped heads with Jesse Molina. "Did you come from Main Engineering?" he asked anxiously.

Molina nodded. "Yeah, I'm the runner to the Bridge. Don't worry about Lieutenant Torres. She's okay. We made sure of it."

Tom clasped a hand on his shoulder. "Thanks," he said, hoping that the depth of his gratitude showed in his voice. Then he jerked his head toward the Bridge. "Get going.

Lieutenant Kim still has command and he needs your report."

Molina gaped. "Lieutenant Kim? Why? Is the Captain hurt? Where's Chakotay? And what happened, anyway?"

"The Captain wasn't on the Bridge when the systems went down. She's probably on her way, hell, she's probably there by now." Tom told himself that was most likely true and kept going, talking over his shoulder. "And I was hoping you could tell me what happened."

 

Twenty-five minutes, and two crew encounters later, he emerged from the tube to the darkened floor of Main Engineering. The warp core was down, and there was no light except for that of the wrist lights the staff had strapped on, sending tunnels of white light in all directions. People were moving about and shouting. He focused on the voices and finally heard the one he was seeking. "B'Elanna!" he called.

"Tom?" One of the streaks of light turned in his direction, momentarily blinding him. "Sorry," she said, and moved so that it was not shining directly into his face. "Kahless. You're all right. What happened?"

"What about you? "

She shrugged. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the light, he could see that she was disheveled and sporting a bruise on her face, but otherwise showed no injuries. "Fine." She rolled her eyes back, indicating the Engineering staff. "They made me lie against the bulkhead while we came down. Someone actually strapped me in."

He closed his eyes in relief. The whole time he had been trying to land the ship instead of crash it, he had fought back a mental image of B'Elanna being hurled around, injuring to herself or their unborn daughter. "I owe them," he said, and reached for the medkit.

"I told you, I'm fine. What happened? We landed some place, right? We heard the thrusters and we've got gravity when everything else is down. Were we attacked?" Without waiting for him to answer, she looked over her shoulder. "Nicoletti? Any luck?"

The response came from across the deck. "Negative, Lieutenant."

"Try rerouting the secondary couplings. Take the baffle off if you have to."

"Hold still," Tom said, as he flipped open the medical tricorder. "I want to check the baby."

She said nothing, but fidgeted as he worked. "She's okay," he said after a moment, and again felt a wave of relief.

"Of course she is," B'Elanna said, but he heard the relief in her voice, too.

"Any other injured?"

She shook her head. "Nothing we can't cope with here. What the hell happened, Tom?"

"I don't know. Everything failed all at once. Harry ordered me to set down on an M-class planet." He shook his head. "It was the strangest thing, B'Elanna. One minute we were out of control and the next it was like someone was telling me what to do. And it worked."

"Harry gave the order?" She sounded incredulous. "Where was the Captain?"

The question irritated him. "She was probably asleep in her bed, same as all the other sane Alpha shift personnel except you and me. It's Gamma shift, B'Elanna. Harry did all right."

She paused, then said in a voice that was not quite teasing, "That was some landing, Flyboy."

"We're alive, aren't we?" He looked around, peering through the darkness. He didn't need to be an engineer to know that things were very bad. "What's the ETA on communications?"

"About three minutes after we get emergency power up. The emergency power cell ruptured when we hit the planet. If we can't get a workaround in the next ten minutes, we'll cannibalize the cells from the Flyer and another shuttle. It's the only way to support all of Voyager."

He winced at the thought of gutting his beloved Delta Flyer, but made no protest. It was necessary. After slipping the scanner back into the kit, he ran his hand down her arm once. "If you don't need a medic here, I've got to get to Sickbay."

"Go," she said, squeezing his hand quickly and then turning away. "Vorik! Get a team together and get ready to head to the shuttle bay. I want you to cross-circuit the Flyer's main power cell with the auxiliary power network." She strode off and became just one more beam of light in the darkened deck.

*****

(00:10 - 00:30)

Halfway to the Bridge, Janeway and Chakotay encountered Noah Lessing in the Jefferies tube, who shined his wrist light down on them before he was able to identify them.

"Captain, Commander," he greeted, surprised to see them in the bowels of the ship and not on the Bridge.

"Mister Lessing," Janeway returned. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, Ma'am. What about you and Commander Chakotay?"

"We're fine. Do you have any idea what happened?"

"Not for certain, Captain," Lessing said. "I was in the Mess Hall when the ship suddenly went into a sharp descent and I barely had time to brace myself before we crashed. I did manage to glance out the windows long enough to see that we're definitely on a planet of some sort."

"Was anyone in the Mess Hall injured?" Chakotay asked.

"Just a few bumps and bruises, sir, but nothing serious. I'm on my way to Engineering to see if I can lend them a hand to get the emergency power on line."

"Good idea. Tell Lieutenant Torres or whomever is in charge down there that life support and communications are the top priority."

"Aye, Captain."

Lessing forced open the nearby lift doors and half crawled onto the adjacent deck, giving the two senior officers just enough room to squeeze by, and then resumed his trek to Engineering. Once he was out of earshot, Janeway glanced at Chakotay and spoke in hushed tones.

"There is one scenario we haven't covered in our search for an explanation about what happened," she said.

"Which is?"

"Sabotage."

"Sabotage?" Chakotay echoed, his tone also deliberately low. "Is that what comes to mind simply because the first person we find is Lessing and he's unharmed?"

She gave him an icy glare. "It's not an accusation against him personally, Chakotay," she said evenly. "But under the circumstances, sabotage is a legitimate concern."

"Do you really think one of our own is capable of doing this?"

"I don't like the idea any more than you do, but we both know that not everybody is one hundred percent in favor of our returning to the Alpha Quadrant," Janeway reminded him. "The crewmen from the Equinox will most certainly face court martial if not imprisonment, and you mentioned to me a short while ago that a few of your former Maquis officers were beginning to voice their concerns about what awaits you when we get home. Maybe one of them or some of them decided that permanently disabling Voyager and forcing us to settle in the Delta Quadrant was preferable to whatever difficulties they'll face back in Federation space.'"

He considered it for a moment before responding. "It is a bit coincidental that every system on the ship crashed at the same time," he conceded. "None of B'Elanna's test programs in the holodeck indicated that a transwarp failure would cascade into the main power systems and take out everything else along with it."

"I don't want to jump to any conclusions until we can definitively determine what happened, but I think we should make Tuvok aware of the possibility that this was an inside job."

Chakotay nodded. "Agreed."

Janeway gave a curt nod of acknowledgment as well, and they resumed their climb.

*****

(01:30 - 02:00)

Traveling through the Jefferies tubes was slower on the way up, and not just because Tom's knees were protesting his earlier disregard for them. There was more traffic in the tubes now as runners from each deck traveled back and forth from the Bridge, bringing reports and orders. Each one mentioned some new problem-- hull breaches, non-functioning gel packs, blown systems. Individually, each one would have been a challenge. Taken as a whole...Tom was beginning to wonder if Voyager would ever recover.

At Deck Seven he encountered Chapman and let him squeeze past, with instructions to give Harry the report about B'Elanna's plan for restoring emergency power and communications. Chapman nodded grimly and kept climbing. Grim, Tom thought. I don't think I really understood what that meant before this.

Like the rest of the ship, Deck Five was dark when he slipped out of the tube into the corridor. Using the wrist light, he made his way to Sickbay and found the doors had been opened manually. The scene that greeted him surprised him.

Sickbay was filled with a soft, diffuse glow that might have been considered romantic under other circumstances. He turned the wrist light off as he took in the dozen or so people sitting on biobeds or on the deck. The EMH, wearing his mobile emitter, was examining Renley Sharr's left shoulder with a tricorder from a field kit. "Ah, Mister Paris, good," he said, looking up. "Any word on when we can expect power?"

"Emergency power will be up soon. Don't know how long it will take to get main power restored." Without thinking twice, Tom opened the medkit he carried. "Who's next?"

"Help me here, please. Ensign Sharr's shoulder is dislocated." As Tom complied, the Doctor continued, "So far, no one has anything worse that some contusions, lacerations and simple fractures. Let's just hope that no was more seriously injured. Until we've got power, we can't manage much more than basic first aid."

Tom held Sharr in place as the Doctor snapped the joint back into place. She made a small sound but then sighed. "Thanks, Doc."

"You're welcome. Don't leave until you've had an analgesic. Mister Paris, see to it and then set up a tray of hyposprays. We're going to have a run on analgesics. And take care of yourself. It's not good form to bleed on the patients." He moved over to the next biobed. "Hold still, Mister Chell. It's only a simple fracture. Here's the osteoregenerator. I want you to hold it just like this and wave it like this-" he demonstrated - "for three minutes."

Chell smiled bravely. "Does this make me a medic?"

"Today it does," the Doctor said without his usual acerbity. He moved on to the next bed, still talking to Tom as he examined Marla Gilmore's left arm. "Ensigns Wildman and Gallagher have set up triage stations on Decks Ten and Fifteen, but obviously we will have to wait for their reports.

As Tom readied the medication tray, he realized the source of the light. The Doctor had placed two dozen phosphorescent sponges in strategic locations around Sickbay. The sponges were part of an experiment he had been working on for two years. Using them for light was ingenious, but it was also the end of the experiment. Another loss.

He returned to Sharr with a hypospray. "What happened, Lieutenant?" she asked. "Were we attacked?"

After he administered the analgesic, he began to place her arm in a sling. "The pain should stop now. Try not to use that arm too much for a while. And no, we weren't attacked. The transwarp drive failed for some reason. We had to land the ship."

"That was a landing?" Across the room, the Doctor sniffed. "It felt like a crash to me."

Before Tom could answer, Sharr grinned and said, "The ship is in one piece - more or less - and we're all walking and talking. By my definition, Doc, that's a landing."

Tom smiled.

*****

(02:00 - 02:10)

"Tuvok. You must wake up."

The voice was soft but insistent, and impossible to ignore. Tuvok gathered his thoughts and pulled them into awareness. With awareness came pain. "What happened?" he rasped.

"Voyager has been damaged," the voice said. "You are injured."

"Kes?" He recognized the voice now, and opened his eyes. But darkness was all that he saw. "Is that you?"

"You must not begin the healing trance yet," she said. "You have to tell them - the ship is in danger."

"I was in the holodeck." Yes, he remembered now. The constant, high pitched whine from the transwarp drive had eroded his discipline to the point that he was unable to master a simple headache. He had programmed a recreation of the Temple at T'Panit, where he had always been able to find the concentration required for serious self-reflection and begun an intense meditation.

He had climbed to the rock ledge above the main Temple, his favorite spot on the grounds. From that vantage point, he could still hear the chanting of the monks while looking down on the valley below. The hot breeze and the repetitive music facilitated contemplation and he had been deep into his own thoughts. Then, he remembered, the program had simply vanished without warning and he was sitting on nothing but air, fifteen meters above the deck. As he plummeted down, it had seemed to him that the ship had gathered speed, amplifying the impact.

"Yes," the voice of Kes said. "You were in the holodeck. You still are. Someone will find you soon. You must be awake when they do, Tuvok. You have to tell them the ship is in danger." Her voice began to fade, as if she were moving away. "Remember. The ship is in danger. Not everything is as it seems. The other worlds are angry."

"What ... danger?" The pain was rising, becoming intolerable. Both legs were broken and he undoubtedly had other abdominal injuries. Every instinct was compelling him to begin the trance.

There was no response. Kes, if she had ever truly been there, was gone.

Tuvok tried to peer through the darkness, but could see nothing. There was no light at all, not even emergency light. The ship must have sustained heavy damage. It was even possible there was still a crisis, and no one would be free to search for him until it was past. But if there was a crisis, why would Kes feel the need to give them a warning? Surely the danger would be evident.

The only logical explanation was that Kes was warning of a danger that wasn't evident, something the crew was overlooking or misinterpreting. It would have been more efficient if Kes had simply told him what it was, but perhaps the mere act of communicating with him required all her effort. That could not be changed. The warning itself may prove enough to avert the consequences she feared. He would have to postpone the trance until he was found and could deliver the message.

"The mind rules," he whispered aloud. "There is no pain."

*****

( 02:10 - 02:45)

After encountering two more officers and waiting through Janeway's leg cramp, Janeway and Chakotay finally reached the Bridge and the captain threw the hatch open, enabling them to crawl out. Janeway exited first and spotting Harry in her chair, snapped, "Report, Mister Kim."

Harry was on his feet immediately, and his expression turned to one of relief. "Am I glad to see you, Captain." As Chakotay emerged behind her, he added, "Commander."

"What happened, Harry?" she asked, barely able to conceal her impatience.

"The transwarp failed and when it went down, it took almost every major system with it, including intraship communications." He swallowed. "When we couldn't reach you, I decided to land the ship. Tom did a heck of a job -- we lost thrusters before we hit. It looks like what the transwarp didn't take with it got knocked silly when we came to ground."

The captain looked at him closely. After all these years, she knew him well enough to know that he was almost desperate with the need for validation of his decision, but he had learned enough to know he shouldn't ask for it. When in command of the ship, she had told him, command it. He had made the best possible decision based on the data he had available to him at the time. Only long term review would settle the question of whether it was the right one or not.

"Where's Lieutenant Paris?" she asked, and did not let herself be distracted by the worry she saw flash in his eyes.

"I sent him to Engineering, then to Sickbay." He straightened a little. "I initiated the disaster protocol. He volunteered to be the runner."

"Good." She nodded once.

"Who's reported in?" Chakotay asked.

"Decks Two, Three, Eight, Thirteen and Fifteen." Harry handed him the PADD with the data from the runners who had already made it to the Bridge. "So far, casualties are light but we've got a hull rupture on the starboard side that extends for multiple decks. Neelix reported that the food supplies in the Mess Hall are almost a total loss from a coolant leak in the refrigeration units and went to cargo bay one to check out the status of the stores."

Chakotay scanned the PADD and then looked up. "We'll be lucky if casualties remain light."

She nodded.

The hatch to the starboard Jefferies tube, already partially ajar, swung the rest of the way open and Neil Mulcahey crawled out. "Deck Four reporting," he said to Janeway, and handed her a PADD. "All crew assigned to the deck is accounted for. We have two casualties. Transporters are offline."

"Has anybody been in contact with Tuvok?" Janeway asked.

"No one on our deck has seen or spoken with him since before the crash," Mulcahey said.

Janeway turned to Kim. "Harry?" she prompted, and he shook his head, earning him a sigh from the captain. "Well, until we get either sensors or communications back online, Tuvok's going to have to find his own way to report in."

"Since whoever or whatever caused our crash seems to have settled for the moment," Chakotay interjected, "maybe it would be a good idea to take look outside and see what kind of planet we've landed on."

"I don't want anyone leaving the ship until we've determined that the atmosphere and any locals don't pose a threat," Janeway replied. "Until we know what caused our crash, I don't want to risk losing anyone else."

"The atmosphere doesn't seem to be harmful, Captain," Harry replied. "The tricorders show a typical M-class atmosphere."

She didn't let herself think about the implications of that. "I still don't want anyone outside yet. Secure the ship and assess our damage first, then we'll see where we stand."

The First Officer nodded in acknowledgment just as the Jefferies tube hatch opened again and Neelix crawled onto the Bridge.

"Mister Neelix," Janeway greeted. "I'm glad to see you're all right."

"Likewise, Captain," Neelix responded. "What happened?"

"We haven't been able to figure that out yet," Chakotay admitted. "What's the status of the food supplies?"

"In spite of the power outage, the food supplies in the refrigeration unit should remain fairly well preserved for another twelve hours or so, and the frozen food supplies will last slightly longer. But the Airponics Bay has been destroyed, and the food supply in Cargo Bay One has also been contaminated due to a plasma leak, so unless we can get the replicators back on line our supply of fresh food stuffs will be completely consumed within 72 hours."

Janeway and Chakotay exchanged a look. This was not what they had hoped to hear.

"What the hell...?" Ayala muttered from behind them.

The others glanced at him in silent inquiry, and saw him staring out the viewscreen, curiosity evident in his expression. Shifting their gazes to follow his, they discovered the source of his scrutiny: a small, dark skinned alien was approaching Voyager. He appeared to be alone and unarmed, but given the circumstances Janeway was taking no chances.

"Looks like we've got company," she replied. "Commander, why don't you and Mister Ayala head outside and find out if our visitor is friend or foe? I'd rather not let him within striking distance unless we know he's on our side."

"Aye, Captain."

Chakotay glanced at Ayala. "Lieutenant, you're with me."

As Janeway and the others continued to watch the alien approach, Ayala and Chakotay headed for the emergency hatch.

*****

ACT TWO

(03:00 - 05:00)

 

Jol felt his hearts skip a beat when the two aliens emerged from the top of their ship, not expecting any survivors after witnessing the ship's controlled crash landing.

They must be exceptionally sturdy beings to have survived their crash, he mused.

Hoping he appeared calmer than he felt, Jol forced himself to remain in place as the aliens approached him.

"Hello," Chakotay greeted first. "I am Commander Chakotay of the Federation starship Voyager. This is my crewmate, Lieutenant Ayala."

The one called Ayala was holding a scanning device, Jol noted. He decided it was a reasonable precaution and did not make an issue of it. After all, he had nothing to hide. "Greetings," he said. "I am called Jol, of the Vordai. I witnessed the descent of your vessel. How is it that you are unharmed?"

"Just lucky I guess," Ayala quipped under his breath, yet his comment was overheard by Jol as he closed his scanning device and nodded at the one called Chakotay.

He is the more suspicious of the two, Jol observed. I must be careful of him.

"We were not aware this planet was inhabited," Chakotay said. "Are there other Vordai here?"

"I am the only one. I was stranded here many cycles ago and this is the first time I have encountered any other living beings."

"You seem to be surviving fairly well on your own," Chakotay remarked.

"I was on a survey mission near this planet when my vessel lost power and I was forced to land. However the craft was not designed for use on land and was irreparably damaged when I crashed. Thankfully many of my supplies were undamaged in the crash, and I discovered a small shelter that I have been using for lodgings."

"How convenient," Ayala muttered, earning him an admonishing look from Chakotay.

"Would you be willing to take us to your shelter?" Chakotay asked.

"Of course," Jol agreed. "I would be pleased to show you my home, and share any of my supplies that you may require. I do not have much, but I am certain that I would be able to help you and your crewmate find sources for your own sustenance."

"Any help you can give us would be appreciated," Chakotay replied.

"Excellent. Come; follow me."

The small alien started off in the direction he had come with Ayala and Chakotay following a couple of feet behind him.

"You realize we could be walking into a trap," Ayala whispered. "He's not armed, but for all we know this little guy has a contingent of his buddies stashed somewhere in orbit waiting to finish what they started when they blew us out of the sky."

"Maybe," Chakotay allowed. "Or maybe he is exactly who he appears to be; a marooned traveler trying to help out a group of lost strangers."

Ayala chuckled. "Seven years in that uniform has made you soft, old man," he chided.

Chakotay smiled. "I can still kick your ass to Risa and back," he responded, "and I outrank you. So try and show a little respect for the old guy."

"Yes, sir."

The XO turned his attention to Jol, and called out a question to him. "What kind of climate does this planet have, Jol?"

Jol glanced over his shoulder. "During the time I have been here, it has been much as it is now," he answered. "While the sun is in the sky, there is pleasant warmth and moderate breezes. Yet when the twin moons replace the sun, it becomes extremely cold and the winds are stronger."

"Have you had any rain?"

Jol frowned. "Rain?"

"Water falling from the sky."

"Ah. No, there has been no rain, but the coldness of the night creates sufficient moisture to replenish what is lost during the day."

"Sounds like a typical desert to me," Ayala remarked.

"Or steppes," Chakotay said, looking at the grassy plain stretching around them.

The trio fell into a companionable silence then, and a few minutes later arrived at Jol's shelter. It was a hut like edifice, constructed of wood and metal and large enough to comfortably hold perhaps half a dozen Humans. The two Starfleet officers followed Jol inside and took a cursory survey of their surroundings. The shelter had obviously been occupied for some time, and the various personal items scattered about the rooms seemed to verify Jol's story about his habitation in the shelter.

"Well so far his story seems to hold up," Ayala remarked under his breath. "Only time will tell if he's really everything he claims to be."

"Jol, would you be willing to show us where to find food and water?" Chakotay asked. "Our own supplies are running low and we need to replenish them."

"Certainly."

Chakotay glanced at Ayala. "I'm going back to Voyager to brief the captain," he said. "I'll send a small scouting party to go with you and Jol."

"What happens if our friend has friends of his own who are responsible for our crash?" Ayala questioned quietly.

"Then you won't need to worry about me kicking your butt for that crack about being soft," Chakotay responded dryly.

*****

(05:15 - 05:20)

The door to the holodeck opened, admitting the harsh glare of wrist lights that alternated back and forth in a search pattern. Tuvok blinked at the sudden brightness and stopped repeating his mantra. He had finally been found.

"Over here." The wrist light struck his eyes, momentarily blinding him, but he recognized the voice of Lieutenant Rollins. "Better get a medic in here. I'm not sure we should move him."

"Lieutenant," Tuvok whispered.

Rollins knelt beside him. "Yes, Commander?"

"Tell the Captain ... there is a danger ... we don't see yet...something is not as it appears..."

"What?" Rollins sounded confused. "Do you mean there's a danger on the planet?"

Tuvok did not understand the question, but it no longer mattered. He had delivered the warning. The healing trance could wait no longer. He closed his eyes and let instinct take over.

*****

(07:30 - 07:45)

Janeway was attempting to clean up some of the debris in her Ready Room when the door chimed. "Come in."

The doors swooshed open and Chakotay walked inside. Glancing at the disarray around him, he flashed Janeway a small smile. "I think you need to lodge a complaint with housekeeping," he quipped.

"I'll put it on my 'to do' list," Janeway allowed. "So what's the story on our visitor?"

"His name's Jol, and he says he comes from a race called the Vordai," Chakotay told her. "He claims to have crashed his ship here several weeks ago and has been stranded ever since."

"How has he been surviving?"

"He salvaged most of his supplies from his ship, and has also managed to locate some sources of food and water on the planet. I sent Neelix and Gennaro to accompany him and Ayala on a scouting expedition to find out if we can use the same sources to replenish our own supplies."

One auburn eyebrow quirked upward. "Are you sure that was wise?" she asked. "We still don't know who or what caused our crash."

Chakotay shrugged. "So far everything he's told us has been the truth," he said. "So I think we should trust him unless or until he gives us reason not to."

She managed a small smile. "Then I'll apply the same to you, Commander, and defer to your judgment regarding Mister Jol."

His own smile widened in appreciation of her trust, and their eyes met and held. They had stood like this less than three hours before, on the brink of their first real kiss. "Kathryn," he said slowly, "about what happened before-"

She held up a hand to cut him off, but she seemed sad rather than angry. "This isn't the time."

"I agree. But I'm not going to forget about it. When the ship is secure, we need to talk."

Janeway was prevented from responding by the sudden illumination of the room, and a moment later a burst of static filtered out of the captain's combadge, immediately followed by the somewhat garbled voice of Voyager's Chief Engineer. "Torres to Janeway."

"Janeway here."

"I have good news and bad news, Captain," B'Elanna told her. "The good news is that emergency power has been restored, including life support and intraship communications."

"And the bad news?"

"Whatever caused the transwarp drive to crash took almost all of Voyager's systems with it," she revealed. "Even with the minimal diagnostics I can run on emergency power, it's obvious that getting the ship space worthy again is going to take several weeks, if not months. There isn't any system on board that hasn't been affected or altered by either the initial systems crash or our subsequent crash landing."

Janeway rubbed her hand across her forehead in mute frustration. "I don't suppose there's any chance you're exaggerating that time frame so you can impress me when you finish the repairs sooner than expected?"

"I wish I were, Captain. But Voyager is down for the count for at least six weeks."

The captain released a weary sigh. "Very well, Lieutenant. Do what you can to get main power back on line and disseminate the repairs as you see fit. However, restoring power to the cargo bays should be among the priorities in order to salvage our food supplies. And if you can restore at least partial shields, that would be nice, too."

"Acknowledged, Captain. Torres out."

Severing the transmission, Janeway met Chakotay's gaze. "Please tell me this is just a bad dream," she requested softly.

Chakotay flashed her a comforting smile. "We'll get through this, Kathryn," he declared. "I promise."

"I'll hold you to that," she said.

The moment was interrupted by the beep of Janeway's combadge, and she reluctantly withdrew from Chakotay's arms to respond to the page. "Janeway here."

"Captain, Commander Tuvok was just brought into Sickbay and he has been critically injured," the Doctor informed her.

"How severe are his injuries?"

"I won't know for certain until I can run a diagnostic and begin surgery," the Doctor answered. "He will survive, but given that this is the second time he has been seriously injured in recent months, it will prolong his recovery time substantially."

"Understood. Was there anything else?"

"He was barely conscious when he came in, but he did manage to give me a message that he wanted passed along to you."

"What kind of message?" Janeway pressed.

"He was muttering something about the ship being in danger, but he wasn't able to tell me from what or from whom. All he said was that the threat hasn't manifested itself yet."

"Of course not," Janeway muttered. "Thank you for the report, Doctor. Keep me posted on Tuvok's condition."

"Aye, Captain."

Terminating her connection with Sickbay, Janeway returned her attention to her First Officer. "Assemble as much of the senior staff as is available and bring them to the conference room in fifteen minutes. I think its time we took an inventory of where we stand and what's happened since we crashed."

"What do you suppose this threat is that Tuvok was talking about?"

"I don't know, and at this point I sure as hell don't want to find out."

*****

(09:25 - 09:50)

For a little guy, Jol can move, Ayala thought. The alien was barely more than half his height, and so slight he looked like he would blow away in a stiff breeze; still, it took an effort to keep up with him as the scouting party moved toward the woods. "How much farther?"

"Not far," Jol said. "The fruit trees are on the near edge of the forest. The yellow fruit is ripe now. I picked some only yesterday. And I found some berries in the shade as well."

Neelix was puffing a few steps behind, but heard what Jol said. "Fruit is good, but we'll need more than that. Lieutenant Kim said he saw some wild game as the ship descended."

"Yes, he was correct, but I have been unable to catch any. Perhaps you will have better luck."

"I hope so," Mario Gennaro, the fourth member of the party, grumbled. "The meat stores are contaminated or thawing. I'm not a fruit and veggie kind of guy."

"You prefer wild bunnies and boar meat to apples and asparagus?" Ayala prompted dryly.

"Oh, yeah."

Smiling, Ayala turned back to Jol. "How'd you happen to crash here?"

"My ship was badly damaged in an ion storm, and I was forced to land."

"Where's your ship now?"

"It is a week's walk from here," Jol said. "But it was badly damaged, and the terrain was mountainous and too cold for me. I gathered what I could and wandered a long time, looking for help. By the time I found the shelter, I was certain that no one lives on this planet except for the wild animals."

Ayala considered the story. It was improbable, but not impossible and when you thought about it, wasn't Voyager's story just as improbable? Still, something didn't sit quite right. "It's strange that someone would build that shelter and then just abandon it. You'd think they would either come back or take it with them."

Jol did not reply, but kept walking.

Behind him, Neelix said, "Perhaps they abandoned it because they feared some kind of contamination. That's why we left that shelter behind when the captain and commander were cured. Maybe there's some kind of germ or insect that's dangerous."

"Keep scanning," Ayala said, raising his own tricorder higher. "Where's your homeworld, Jol?"

"About nine light years from here, but my people do not often come in this direction. May I ask a question?"

"Go ahead."

"The shelter you abandoned - where was that?"

Ayala thought for a moment. "Depending on how far we made it in transwarp, I'd guess it's between fifty and sixty thousand light years from here."

Jol's large, dark eyes blinked slowly, and then blinked again. "Fifty and sixty thousand?"

"Give or take."

"Holy Goddess," Jol breathed. "I thought you were exaggerating earlier when you described your journey."

"Nope. We thought it would take seventy-five years to get home, but here we are."

Jol suddenly came to a halt, causing Ayala to stop as well, and behind him, Neelix and Gennaro. As he looked at Ayala, his eyes seemed to glitter. Ayala wasn't sure if it was simply a reflection of light or some kind of biological phenomenon, but it made the alien seem emotional, almost on the brink of tears. On impulse, he said, "Your home's not so far. I'm sure the captain will be happy to drop you off once we're on our way again."

"Thank you," Jol said, and his eyes glittered again.

"Why did you stop?" Gennaro asked irritably.

"We have reached the fruit trees," Jol said, and pointed to a glade not thirty meters away.

*****

(10:10 - 10:15)

The trees grew densely and so lushly that it was dim as dusk beneath the leafy canopy. It is like the forests of home, Jol thought as he did every time he walked this path.

It had been more difficult than he anticipated to slip away from Lieutenant Ayala and the other Voyagers in the fruit grove and melt into the shadows of these ancient hardwoods. The lieutenant had instructed the one called Gennaro to keep an eye on him, and Gennaro seemed to prefer that to gathering fruit. Even now he could hear the crunch of twigs and brush as Gennaro approached.

Moving swiftly, he found the particular tree he sought and reached into a knothole near its base. His hand closed around his communications handset and he quickly dropped it into his pocket. Now that he had been searched twice and his shelter examined, he thought it unlikely they would check him again soon.

The crackling noise grew louder, and Jol thanked the Goddess that these Voyagers were apparently unfamiliar with the ways of the forest and could not track with speed or stealth. He fell to his knees and pushed aside the molding leaves and moss, revealing the other reason he had selected this tree as his hiding place.

"Jol!" he heard Gennaro call, sounding angry.

"I'm here!" Jol responded.

The red-faced Human stalked into view. "What are you up to? Why did you run off like that?"

"I'm sorry. It's just that I remembered about this and thought you might like them. They are quite good." He gestured with open hands to the ground. "Mushrooms!"

*****

(12:00 - 12:30)

As he took a seat in the conference room, Harry realized that it was the first time he'd been able to sit all day. The time in the Big Chair didn't count: that felt more like standing than sitting; it left him exhausted and worn. He'd never been as relieved in his life as when Captain Janeway walked on to the Bridge.

She now sat in her usual seat at the head of the conference table, but amazingly, she seemed as calm as if they were dealing with a minor inconvenience instead of a major emergency. He wondered if he would ever be able to project that much assurance.

"Lieutenant Torres is attending this meeting over the com system as she busy with repairs in Engineering," Janeway said. "Unless there's a significant change since your last report, Doctor, I'd like to begin with her. B'Elanna?"

"The good news is that the warp engine is mostly undamaged," B'Elanna said through static. "We've got one cracked dilithium crystal, but that's all. The bad news is that we've got extensive structural damage. I just got a report of a stress fracture in the strut supporting the port nacelle. And I recommend that we initiate Level One power conservation measures."

Janeway frowned. Level One conservation was for extreme emergencies. "Why? You cannibalized the Flyer and the Sacajawea - is there a problem?"

"The power from the shuttles will only last a week at current utilization rates, and I'm not certain we'll have main power restored by then. If we don't, we'll have to cannibalize more shuttles." B'Elanna sounded unhappy. "We need to shut down as many areas as we can."

Chakotay leaned closer to Janeway. "If Ayala doesn't find anything worrisome, we can set up shelters outside and shut down the crew decks."

The captain nodded. "Securing the ship is our first priority, but if the report is good, set up a defense perimeter immediately. The shelters can form our internal line. Shutting down the decks should get us another week, at least."

"What's the rest of it, B'Elanna?" Chakotay asked.

"Reports are still coming in, but it looks like most of the relay systems have been damaged, possibly from a power surge. We've found a number of damaged gel packs, too."

Harry watched the captain's face settle into a blank mask, the one she used to conceal her thoughts. No wonder, he thought. The gel packs were vital to the ship's operations and the one commodity they couldn't simply replicate or buy.

Janeway turned to the Doctor. "You've got some new patients, Doctor. In the past, you've done wonders with the gel packs -- now we need you to salvage as many as you can. We can't afford to lose any."

He nodded. "Of course."

"Anything else, B'Elanna?"

"Not at the moment," she replied.

"Then, Doctor, what's the status of Sickbay?"

"Remarkably good, all things considered. We've treated thirty-two injured crew, six of whom are in still in Sickbay. Everyone else is ambulatory. Only Crewman Thompson and Lt. Commander Tuvok are in serious condition. They suffered multiple broken bones and internal injuries, but they should recover."

"Is Tuvok conscious yet?" she asked.

"No, he's still in a healing trance and probably will be for at least another full day. The other good news is that the sonic whine stopped when the transwarp failed and the effects are already wearing off."

Everyone looked surprised. "What sonic whine?" Janeway asked.

The Doctor looked chagrined. "I'm sorry, Captain, I forgot. I was about to report that to you when the ship went down. Apparently the transwarp drive emitted a whine that was beyond the range of normal Human hearing. It was probably the cause of the crew's irritability and paranoia the last few weeks."

"Fine," the captain said under her breath. "Harry, what's the word from Operations?"

"Not good," Harry said, trying not to sound too pessimistic. "We don't have enough power to test everything yet, but the com system is only at 20% capacity and weapons and shields are down completely. The problems may be related to the limited power supply, but it's too soon to be certain."

The captain did not respond immediately. After a moment, though, she nodded. "Well. It's not the news I was hoping for, but it could be worse. I haven't heard that anything is irreparable. I want you all to focus on getting this ship space worthy again."

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Excuse me, Captain, but under the circumstances, perhaps it would be a good idea to implement the colonization protocol I developed."

Janeway's expression hardened subtly. "I think that is premature, Doctor," she replied coolly. "We are not starting a colony."

"But clearly we are going to be on this planet for some time," he persisted.

"I will let you know, Doctor, if and when I decide to initiate the protocol." Her voice was low but sharp as a laser, and just as cutting.

"Understood." The EMH sounded chastened.

"We don't have enough information about this planet yet to make the decision about colonizing," Chakotay said. "Jol said it was uninhabited and so far it appears that way, but that doesn't mean it's safe."

"Indeed." Janeway rose and began to pace. "We're going to need data, and we're going to need it soon. Once we're satisfied that this position is secure, we can begin aerial reconnaissance of the planet. Prepare a schedule for shuttle flights, Chakotay. Start with the immediate area and work outwards and upwards."

Before the XO could acknowledge her, the com system chirped on. "Ayala to Chakotay."

Surprised, Chakotay touched his combadge. "Go ahead."

"We're back, sir. Jol was right. We didn't see any sign of indigenous intelligent life. There's an ample supply of fruit and berries and a river with potable water and fish - a lot of fish -

about three kilometers from here. There's also some wild game, but we didn't catch anything."

"Time for that later. Good work. How was our new friend?"

"Fine. He seemed to be open and cooperative. He even found some wild mushrooms, which made Gennaro ecstatic, by the way. He says they're great with wild game. I've assigned him to keep an eye on the little guy."

The commander smiled, looking pleased himself. His fondness for mushroom soup was well known. "Good. Turn the foraging details over to Neelix and come to the Bridge for orders. Chakotay out."

Janeway looked around. "I guess that's our good news for the day. We won't starve before the replicators are on line again. All right, everyone. Let's get going. We've got a lot of work to do."

 

Harry left the conference room wondering if any of them really knew how much work was in front of them.

*****

 

(14:45- 14:55)

On the Top Bough, Colonel Rahl stood beside a small communications monitor and automatically came to attention at the sight of his commanding officer. "Rahl," the General said curtly, "What's going on?"

"The situation is unchanged, sir. The ship is still on the planet and seems to be heavily damaged. Our scanners indicate that it currently has no defensive capabilities, but our scout has yet to confirm that assessment."

The General frowned, pulling his face into deep vertical grooves. "But who are these people? Are they working for the Grevel-Ash?"

"According to my scout's last report, they claim to be from another part of the galaxy. This landing was nothing more than their bad luck."

With a snort, the General shook his head. "I'd call it our bad luck. We've already been accused of claim jumping. The Inner Circle has been summoned and the ambassadors are shouting at each other. The sap is running hard, Colonel. I don't think we have much time. If we can't establish their identity, we must take them. By force, if need be."

"I understand." Rahl nodded once. "We'll be ready."

*****

ACT THREE

(15:00 - 15:40)

"Look at that sunset," Neelix said. "Magnificent."

Sarexa glanced up. The sky was awash with crimson, three shades of pink, gold and pale lavender. "It's very nice."

He turned to her, surprised. "Is that all you can say about it? When was the last time you saw a sunset that colorful?"

"It's very nice, Neelix, but we don't have time to stand around and admire the clouds." She gestured at the temporary cook stoves and worktables that surrounded them and curbed her irritation. Given her preference, she'd be in Engineering, helping B'Elanna. But with replicators down and perishable food to prepare, she and Naomi Wildman had been pressed into kitchen duty. "We're got to get dinner ready and we have to salvage as much as we can. Naomi, would you please slice the chinga fruit? I'll make cobbler and we'll can the rest."

She cast a wary glance at the little alien, Jol, who sat perched on a stool nearby, his head tilted slightly as he looked at all the food. After Jol's innocuous, even helpful behavior on the scouting expedition, Neelix said he found it hard to believe that Jol posed any threat. She, however, wasn't as trusting. Mario Gennaro sat beside him and she was glad of it.

After a final moment of appreciation for the sky, Neelix returned to the cook stove and checked a pot that was simmering over a low flame. Sarexa watched him surreptitiously, and noted that he was looking at the shelters and tents that had been erected in several small circles in Voyager's shadow. Each circle had its own campfire.

Neelix was humming. He was probably, she thought, imagining they were all on a camping vacation instead of coping with an emergency. His ability to find a positive light to almost any situation was the trait she admired most in him, but sometimes it also exasperated her. They weren't on vacation, they were dealing with an emergency, and they had one hundred and fifty people to feed almost immediately. "Neelix? How's the broth?"

"It's ready for the vegetables," he said. "You know, I should find the bartob meat. It would really add some texture to the stew."

"Go," she said. "Find it." She brought a platter of chopped vegetables to the skillet, scraped them in, and began stirring.

He patted her arm as he passed her and she smiled at the gesture. Even when she was less than tactful, he understood she meant no harm. Then she turned her attention to the vegetables. The trick to a rushed stew like this was to keep them boiling for just the right amount of time and not a moment longer.

Then she looked back to Naomi. The young girl was quartering the fruit, not slicing it. "Thinner please, Naomi. And be sure you get the seeds out."

"Sorry," Naomi said, and began again. "It's just that, well, no offense Sarexa, but I'd rather be helping Mom. She's trying to get life support functional again."

"No offense taken. I'd rather be in Engineering myself. Isn't that where Icheb is working?" She noted the girl's sudden blush, and decided not to pursue the topic. She was still unsure of Human relationships. "I'm surprised that life support is a priority. We don't need it while we're on the planet."

"The air filtration system needs continuous flow to prevent dust deposits," Naomi explained. "And dust deposits in the ventilation system can gum up the gel pack relays. And without the relays, we won't be going anywhere." She looked at her pile of slices and grimaced. "This is going to take forever."

"Not forever. Just a while."

"Were you scared, Sarexa? When everything went dark and we were dropping?"

She considered as she stirred the oversized pot of stew. "Yes. I haven't been that afraid since the Borg attacked and assimilated my family."

Naomi's eyes widened. "Really? Not even during the battles with the Borg last month?"

"I wasn't afraid then because I thought I knew the outcome. I thought we would lose, and I was resigned to becoming a drone again." She looked up and smiled. "You all have taught me to hope once more." Then she set down her spoon, satisfied. "There. That just needs to simmer for a while now. How are you coming with that fruit?"

"Almost done." Naomi looked at the mountain of slices she had created. "Cooking for this many people is hard."

She picked up a discarded rind and sniffed it. "Good. Still zesty." Picking up an implement, she began to shred the large rind. "It certainly is. And think how long Neelix has been doing it."

"Doing what?" Neelix asked, as he returned carrying a large container. "Here's the last of the bartob meat. It'll turn by tomorrow."

"Brown it up and throw it in the stew," Sarexa said. "You've been cooking for Voyager for seven years."

"That's right." Neelix sniffed the contents of the skillet. "It could use a little ferli spice, don't you think?"

"I do not," Sarexa said firmly. "Not with bartob meat."

Neelix looked unhappy, but said nothing as he reached into the container and withdrew a large slab of meat. "We picked this up before the last fight with the Borg," he told Naomi, who, to her credit, looked interested. "It's tasty but without refrigeration it goes bad quickly." He picked up a large knife and sliced off a hunk to chop.

"Neelix," Naomi said slowly as she wiped her hands, "Are you ever sorry you came on Voyager?"

"Sorry? Not at all. Not for a moment." He smiled at her. "I wouldn't have known you, sweeting."

She rolled her eyes. "Really, I mean. We haven't exactly had an easy time. And you wouldn't be stuck here now if you'd stayed near Talax."

He became more serious as he worked. "It's the truth, Naomi. Coming on Voyager was the best decision I ever made in my life. I ... I wasn't always the best person, you see. I did some things I'm not proud of. But Commander Chakotay and Lieutenant Paris showed me that everyone can change, and Captain Janeway and Mr. Tuvok showed me that even people like me can earn respect. That's an important lesson."

The girl looked at him gravely. "I guess so."

"It's one you may never need," he told her. "I doubt you'll ever get into as much trouble as I did. Why, once you're home, you'll probably be the youngest cadet in the history of Starfleet Academy."

Sarexa, who was now kneading a large mound of dough, said, "You know, I can't help but wonder if the captain won't decide to stay right here."

"Oh, no," Neelix said quickly. "The captain is completely opposed to starting a colony. She won't settle for anything less than getting back to Earth, not when we've come sixty thousand light years or so."

"Face facts. We might not be able to repair Voyager. We might not have any choice." She gestured with a flour-covered hand. "We could do a lot worse than settle here."

"You haven't been with us long enough to understand," Neelix said. "Captain Janeway promised the crew she would get them home again. I think it would kill her if she couldn't keep that promise."

Sarexa frowned, and spoke in a strained voice. "You're being dramatic. The captain is a very practical woman. If the ship is too damaged to return to space, she'll accept the necessity for a colony."

Neelix set the knife down and put his arms around her. "I haven't been morale officer all these years without learning to recognize worry when I hear it."

She resisted his comfort and pulled back, looking at him directly. "What's so bad about settling down, all together? The Borg aren't a threat any more. This is a perfect planet. Why couldn't we make a home here?"

"Because it's not home," he said.

"Neither is Earth. Not for us." Tears filled her eyes. "It's one thing to be two among a hundred and fifty; it's another to be two among billions. I just want to fit in."

"Don't worry, sweeting." He hugged her. "You're shaken up, that's all, and after the day we've had, I don't blame you. Let's wait until tomorrow before we worry about fitting in on Earth. By then B'Elanna should know how badly the ship is damaged."

She sniffed, stepped back, and wiped her hands on her apron. "Well," she said briskly, "the crust is almost ready. Let's work on that filling. Naomi, get that fruit in bowl. We have people to feed."

Naomi did as she was told, and Sarexa noticed that Jol, the little alien, was staring at the girl closely. He was listening to every word we said, she thought, annoyed. How rude.

*****

(16:15 - 16:35)

Even though the turbolifts were working again, their use was restricted to conserve power. Tom had to use the Jefferies tubes to get to Main Engineering. He slid the last few meters down the ladder and landed with a slight thud. The noise was lost in the cacophony around him, and he looked around. If it had been eerie in the dark when he was there last; it was almost surreal now. The subdued light of the emergency system turned everything silvery-blue and cast elongated shadows on the deck and bulkheads. It would be a great haunted house, he thought, but as engine rooms go, it was less than ideal.

"Where's B'Elanna?" he asked the first crewman he bumped into. It was either Molina, Mendez or Tabor; they had similar coloring and features and in the weird lighting, it was hard to tell.

"Main computer alcove," came the response. The voice didn't help identify the speaker, who was already hurrying away.

He made his way through the crowded and noisy room. It appeared that everyone from Engineering was on duty, regardless of scheduled shift, and it appeared that everyone was very busy. By the time he reached the alcove, he was frowning deeply. The frown deepened when he saw that B'Elanna was sitting on the floor in front of an open panel, elbow deep into the circuitry.

"taHqeq," B'Elanna muttered.

"Nice to see you, too."

B'Elanna, sitting on the floor in front of an open panel looked up. The strange light made her face look pasty and swollen. "Sorry. That was for the computer, not you."

"I'll take your word for it. How's it coming?"

"It's not. These circuits are beyond salvage." She bit her lip, and said in a low voice, "This is bad, Tom. It's really bad."

He squatted down, resting on his heels so they were at the same eye level. "I know. I've been all over the ship. We took a beating. Still, we covered a lot of space. We're a lot closer to home than we were yesterday."

"Fat lot of good that will do us if we can't go any farther," she hissed. "It's going to take a miracle to get this ship up again, and you know what? I'm fresh out of miracles. I can't do it, Tom, not this time. I can't do it."

She was near exhaustion, he realized, and needed to rest. "Well, one thing's for sure, you aren't going to fix it all tonight. Why don't you come with me and get something to eat? Neelix and Sarexa have set up quite a feast. And I have already set up a shelter for us. You can catch a nap before coming back here."

She shook her head. "Thanks, but I'll grab a bite later. I need to finish."

"B'Elanna." Even though he spoke quietly, he used a tone of authority that was rare for him. "I know how you feel, but you won't be doing anyone any good if you make yourself sick. You need to eat and to rest a little bit."

After a moment, she sighed. "You must be right, because I can't work up enough energy to be angry with you. All right, help me up."

"You'll feel better after some fresh air, dinner and a nap," Tom promised. "You'll see."

*****

(16:35 - 17:10)

A few minutes later, Tom and B'Elanna sat on the edge of a large campfire, each balancing a tray of food on their laps. Tom managed to find a camp chair for B'Elanna, but he sat on the ground beside her. As at the other sites, the fire pit was ringed by five tents and one Starfleet shelter. Tom pointed to the shelter with his fork. "And, I pulled the mattress off our bed and put it in there, so you should be able to sleep."

"Really?" She pulled the blanket closer around her shoulders and brightened a little. Their mattress had become grooved in just the right places to support her. She had been dreading the thought of trying to sleep on a new surface.

"Really." Tom looked smug. "And I brought your pillow, and extra blankets. We need our Chief Engineer to get her rest."

Before she could say anything, they heard Harry calling. "Hey, B'Elanna!"

At the sound of Harry's voice, B'Elanna and Tom stopped and turned around. Harry jogged toward them from the direction of the temporary kitchen. Tom leaned close and whispered, "Two to one he wants to ask about Marla but doesn't want to be obvious about it."

She nodded in response. Poor Harry thought he was being discreet, but his growing affection for Ensign Gilmore was patently obvious. It was nearly impossible to not tease him about it. "Hey yourself," she said as he approached.

"If you're taking a break, things must be coming along," he said. "I didn't think Tom could pry you off of deck eleven until full power was restored."

At the reminder of the damage to the ship, the desire to kid with him evaporated. "Doctor's orders," she said. "Marla is still working. She'll get a break in about half an hour."

"Is she okay?" he asked, not bothering to hide his concern. "I saw her name on the injured list."

"It was a simple arm fracture," B'Elanna said. "She's fine."

"Get some dinner and join us," Tom invited. "The stew's pretty good."

Harry sat down beside Tom. "I'm not hungry."

Tom studied his friend in the firelight. "What's wrong, Harry?"

"What's wrong? Look around, Tom. We're grounded and it's my fault."

Tom groaned. "Not you, too."

"I don't know why you think it's your fault, Harry," B'Elanna said. "It was my transwarp design that got us in this mess."

"Yeah, but if I hadn't given the order to land, we wouldn't have the structural damage we've got."

"You wouldn't have had to give that order if my design had worked."

"Oh, for Pete's sake," Tom said impatiently. "Did I lose my invitation to the pity party?"

"Don't be flip," B'Elanna snapped. "This is serious. We're in terrible shape."

Tom shrugged. "Okay, it's serious. We're in terrible shape. But we've been in serious situations and terrible shape before. Look at the damage we had after the Hirogen spent three weeks on board. Or after the Borg assaults."

"It's not the same thing," Harry said glumly. "You aren't the one who decided to land the ship."

"And what would have happened if you hadn't given that order?" Tom stared at him intently. "The systems still would have failed, we'd have had to abandon ship, and we'd still be on this planet -- only without Voyager or much hope of getting home."

Harry frowned. "I hadn't thought of it like that."

"You should be grateful you had a skilled and courageous pilot at the helm," Tom added with a grin.

"Yeah, right."

Tom looked at his best friend, who was staring blankly into the fire and at his wife, who was pushing her food around on the plate with a fork. "Look, you two. You need to stop acting like the Gloom and Doom twins. If nothing else, you have to do it for the captain."

B'Elanna blinked out of her reverie. "What?"

"Think about how she must be feeling now," he said. "It's been a hell of a year for her -- she's been assimilated by the Borg, kidnapped by the Cardassians, held hostage by the Zornon, trapped between factions of the Plor, and then forced to fight the Borg again. She might just be feeling a little stressed out by all that. Now, just when it looks like we're going to make it all the way home, Voyager's down. What do you think she's feeling?"

"Pretty rotten," Harry said slowly.

"And do you think she's going to feel better if you two go around publicly flogging yourselves?"

B'Elanna's mouth twitched in a threatened smile. "Since when did you become ship's counselor?"

Tom shrugged. "I've got to do something to keep busy, since we won't need a helmsman for a while. So, you two are going to snap out of it?" Then a movement in the shadow just beyond the fire caught his eye. "Is someone there?"

The strange little alien stepped forward. His large eyes seemed to glow orange from the reflected firelight. "It's just me, Jol. Sarexa sent me to see Lieutenant Torres will want any more casserole. It's going fast, but she'll set a piece aside if you want. She said it's your favorite."

For the first time all evening, B'Elanna smiled with genuine happiness. "She's wonderful. I'd love another piece. I'll be there shortly."

Jol raised a hand to waist level, then turned and left. Tom watched him disappear into the dusk and frowned. "Is it just me, or is he a little bit creepy?"

"It's just you," Harry assured him. "He seems harmless to me."

"I think he was eavesdropping."

B'Elanna yawned. "Sorry. Guess I'm more tired than I realized. Tom, would you please get me that piece of casserole? I'd like to sit here a while longer."

Harry scrambled to his feet. "You stay put. I'll go."

"Thanks, Harry." Tom waited until he was certain his friend was out of earshot. "You know he's gone to look for Marla again."

"Does that bother you?" B'Elanna asked.

"No, but it might bother you." He grinned. "If he finds her, he's likely to forget that you're waiting for that casserole."

*****

(17:20 - 17:55)

Through the window of her Ready Room, Janeway could see the faint glows in the distance of the campfires the crew had started outside their respective shelters. A sympathetic chill went through her as she realized how cold it must be outside, and made a mental note to ensure all available thermal blankets were being used.

We won't have to worry about Voyager's condition if the crew freezes to death waiting for the repairs to be completed, she mused.

Stifling a weary sigh, the captain retrieved her own blanket from the edge of the couch and settled it about her as she lay down to try and sleep. No sooner had she gotten comfortable than the door chime rang, and at her invitation to enter, Chakotay walked inside.

"Captain," he greeted formally. "Did I wake you?"

Janeway shook her head. "I was just settling in. What can I do for you?"

"I'm about to start the Gamma shift on the Bridge and wanted to stop in to say good night," Chakotay said. "Are you planning on sleeping in your Ready Room tonight?"

"That was my intent, yes. My quarters are still without power."

"There's plenty of room in the emergency shelters," Chakotay told her. "Maybe you'd be more comfortable sleeping on one of the air mattresses."

"I'll be fine in here, Chakotay. My place is on the ship, even if she's not quite up to par at the moment."

"All the better to hide yourself in," Chakotay muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"Admit it, Kathryn; you're isolating yourself from the rest of the crew because you feel guilty about what happened. It's a pattern with you."

Anger flickering in her eyes as she got to her feet, Janeway ignored his accusation and instead addressed the first part of his remark. "It's my responsibility to keep this crew safe, Chakotay, and once again I've failed in that duty. So yes, I feel guilty. Under the circumstances I think I'm entitled to."

"What happened wasn't your fault, Kathryn, and even if you had been on the Bridge when the transwarp crashed, you wouldn't have been able to do anything to prevent it."

"So you say."

The XO ignored the jibe. "Instead of wallowing in self-recrimination, take some of that energy and focus on the positive side of our situation. We have no fatalities, we landed on a planet that is temperate and uninhabited, and even if Voyager isn't able to fly again, the deep space ships that Starfleet has searching for us will find us in less than ten years. That's what you should be focusing on. Not wasting energy feeling sorry for yourself, or the crew. Sometimes..."

Chakotay stopped before completing his thought, but intuition told Janeway what he had intended to say and she finished for him.

"Sometimes I don't know when to quit," she supplied gently.

"Sometimes you don't how much this crew needs you," he corrected. "You take chances with your life that under normal circumstances you wouldn't consider, and when something goes wrong you accept all the blame and pull away from anyone who tries to help you. That's not fair to us or to you."

"Thank you for your concern, Commander, but I don't recall asking for your counsel," Janeway snapped, irritated that he knew her so well.

Hurt flickered across his handsome face. "That was uncalled for," Chakotay replied quietly.

"I'm sorry," Janeway conceded. "But the facts remain the same. I'm the captain of a ship that has been disabled in an unknown region of space, and if history is any guide, if we do run into any more aliens out here, they're not going to be happy to see us. Without Voyager being space worthy, and with no shields or weapons, we're sitting ducks."

"Being grounded certainly makes us more vulnerable, but maybe this time luck is going to be on our side."

"I'd rather not leave it up to luck," Janeway countered. "The shuttles we sent into orbit to take a look around still have sensor capability and can alert us to any incoming ships."

"What about exploring the planet itself?" Chakotay asked.

"We still have a pair of the larger shuttles. We can use one of the shuttles for ground search and the other can be cannibalized for supplies if the Flyer starts to run down before we get main power back."

He nodded. "Sounds like a good plan. I'll track down B'Elanna and Tom and have them get started."

Bidding her farewell, Chakotay turned to exit the Ready room but stopped when Janeway called out to him.

"Chakotay..."

He turned expectantly.

"Thank you, for being a friend."

He flashed her a warm smile. "You're welcome."

*****

(18:00 - 18:15)

Harry walked slowly on his way to the temporary kitchen, pausing by each campfire to say hello to his shipmates and see who was there. There were a number of them; Tom had selected the site furthest away from the hub of the emergency camp. He told himself that he was imply being friendly and supportive, but he was also honest enough to admit that he was disappointed each time he stopped at a fire and realized Marla wasn't there.

Then he spotted her, walking toward him although she hadn't seen him yet. She was alone and seemed to be lost in her own thoughts as she walked. "Marla!" he called.

She stopped abruptly and blinked, as if returning to reality. Then her face broke into a smile that he could see even in the dim light. To his complete surprise, she ran to him and hugged him tightly.

It would have been rude not to reciprocate. Besides, she felt good against him, solid and real after hours of imagination. Whatever had been bothering her the past few weeks seemed to be forgotten.

He would have been willing to stand like that indefinitely, but she stepped back. "I've been worried about you," she said softly, and brushed a fingertip across a bruise on his cheek.

"I'm fine. What about you? I heard you were hurt."

She lifted her left hand and flexed it. "Nothing serious."

"We were really lucky," he said. "There's only a few serious injuries."

To his horror, her eyes suddenly welled up with tears and her mouth trembled with the effort to not cry. He asked, "Marla? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she said. Then she gulped and covered her face with both hands. Her shoulders shook as she sobbed quietly.

Harry felt helpless as well as confused. Starfleet provided no training to cope with weeping women. "Marla?" he asked again. "What is it?"

After a moment, she drew a deep breath and lowered her hands. "I'm sorry," she sniffed, and tried to wipe the tears away. "I guess I'm just tired."

"No," he said slowly. He'd come to know her fairly well in recent months. Suddenly he was worried for her. "It's more than that. Please, tell me."

She bit her lower lip. "I'm scared, Harry."

"About what?"

"Everyone knows I wasn't in a hurry to get home. None of us were."

He understood that she meant her four crewmates from the Equinox. "I don't understand."

"People are wondering if the transwarp failure was sabotage."

"I hadn't heard that." But, he thought, it's a reasonable question. A lot of people made it clear they weren't eager to get home.

"Well, they are. And sooner or later someone will wonder if one of us did it. To avoid going to prison, I mean." She grabbed his hand and looked at him intently. "I didn't do it, Harry, I swear I didn't."

"I believe you."

"But will the rest of the crew? It took so long for everyone to trust us." Tears welled up again in her eyes. "I don't think I can bear it if it goes back to the way it was."

She sounded so forlorn that he couldn't think of anything to do except pull her close and hold her again. "Don't worry. It'll be all right. B'Elanna will figure out what went wrong. No one will blame you."

"I hope not. I really hope not," she said into his shoulder. "Prison or not, I would never keep people from getting home again."

"We'll get there." He remembered what Tom had said and felt his confidence grow. Only minutes ago, he had been convinced that their current situation was his fault; now he knew it was simply fate. He tucked a hand under her chin and tilted her head until her red-rimmed eyes met his. "Look how far we've come. We just can't give up."

Her cornflower blue eyes remained fixed on him, and he felt the mood between them change from one of friendly comfort to something else ... something more. She felt it, too; she caught her breath, and her mouth parted slightly. They began to lean toward each other.

"Hey!"

At the sound of Mario Gennaro's voice, they jumped apart. The security officer didn't seem to notice that he had interrupted anything. "Either of you seen Jol?"

"Who?" Marla asked.

"The alien," Harry explained. "He was at Tom and B'Elanna's campsite a little bit ago. He said he was going back to the kitchen."

"He didn't." Gennaro's mouth set in a straight line. "Damn."

"You lost the alien?" Harry asked pointedly.

Gennaro flushed in anger or embarrassment or both. "Not for long, Lieutenant," he said as he stalked away. "Not for long."

****

(19:20 - 20:15)

Chakotay was making notations in his log when the Ready Room doors swooshed open and Kathryn strode onto the Bridge.

"You're supposed to be sleeping," Chakotay chided.

"As odd as it sounds I'm too tired to sleep," Janeway returned. "I think I'll head outside and check on the people camped around the ship. And as a wise friend of mine recently pointed out, I need to be mingling with my crew, not hiding from them."

He smiled in acknowledgment of her acceptance of his advice. "The first reconnaissance shuttles will be back in about half an hour," he told her. "Do you want me to call you when they return, or will you be back by then?"

"I should be back by then. Keep an eye on Voyager, Commander."

"Aye, Captain."

Flashing her First Officer a farewell smile, Janeway made her way to the escape hatch and climbed onto the ship's hull, then eased herself down the side to the ground. She stood in place for a moment, inhaling the crisp night air and feeling the icy fingers of the evening breeze blowing across her face. The glow of the campfires was more prominent outside of the ship, and she could hear the muffled voices of her crew as they engaged in simple conversation.

Releasing a deep breath, she felt some of the tension flow out of her, and she started toward the closest shelter. Halfway there, she suddenly heard an unexpected sound: the unmistakable melody of someone singing.

She paused, recognizing the voice immediately from numerous Talent Nights. Hugh Murphy was an Irish tenor whose voice could melt stone, and the plaintive melody he sang drifted through dusk, caressing each note. "We pray for one last landing on the globe that gave us birth," he sang. "Let us rest our eyes on the fleecy skies and the cool green hills of Earth."

The tune was in a minor key and sounded old, but the words were teasingly familiar. As the last note faded away, she stepped closer to the fire. Tessoni saw her first. "Captain," he said, sounding surprised.

"At ease, everyone," she said quickly. "I heard the song. It was lovely, Hugh, but I didn't quite recognize it. What was it?"

"It's an old one. 'The Green Hills of Earth.' It's been around forever." Murphy grinned, and she understood why he was so successful in his quest to date every available woman on the ship. "A writer named Heinlein wrote the words decades before man got to the moon. I don't know who wrote the melody, but I always liked it."

Angelo Tessoni shifted a little. "Join us, Captain?"

She looked at the circle around the fire. Several junior officers were there, finishing their meals: Murphy and Tessoni were joined by Jenny Delaney, Jenkins, O'Donnell and Sharr. They all looked at her, waiting for her to join them or decline. "Thank you," she said, and sat cross-legged between Tessoni and Sharr. "How's dinner?"

"Not bad, considering," Jenny said. "Neelix is serving the perishables that won't last without refrigeration, so there's a pretty good selection."

"Try Sarexa's chinga berry cobbler," Sharr added. "Don't tell Neelix I said so, but it's better than his."

"All right." Kathryn felt a little confused. She hadn't expected to find this air of normalcy from them. They were acting like this was a picnic in the holodeck.

"That was a heck of ride, wasn't it?" Tessoni asked. "We were wondering, Captain, if you have any idea how far we got?"

"Not for certain. Commander Chakotay estimates we covered about ten thousand light years. We'll know more after Astrometrics is up and running again."

Jenny grinned. "If Engineering can get us full power, we'll have the Lab ready for business in no time. I can't wait to find out where we are."

"My bet's on 15,500 light years from Earth," Murphy said, and Jenny dug her elbow into his chest. "Ow! What?" He followed her pointed gaze to Janeway and realized what he'd said. "Uh, that is, if there were any betting going on. Which there isn't. Captain."

"It's all right," Kathryn said, stifling a laugh. She hadn't guessed that a betting book had opened already, but she realized that she shouldn't be surprised. "We just won't tell Tuvok about it." The mention of her friend caused her smile to fade.

"How is Commander Tuvok?" Tessoni asked quietly.

"Oh, he's banged up but the Doctor assures me he will be all right." She studied the faces, golden in the firelight. "What about all of you? Are you all right?"

"We're fine," Jack O'Donnell said. "We've survived the Kazon, the Hirogen and the Borg, Captain. It's going to take a lot more than a rough ride to shake us up. How long do you think before we'll be under way again?"

"A while," she replied slowly. "We'll have a better idea tomorrow." She hesitated, then added, "We could be here for quite some time."

They all looked at one another uncomfortably. "Well," Jenny said at last. "It could be worse. At least it's not winter."

"And no hurricanes," Jenkins added with a chuckle.

"Captain," Tessoni said, and his soft voice inspired a sudden stillness as they all seemed to lean in to hear him. "We just covered ten years of travel in a twenty-one days. If we have to spend a few weeks or even months to make repairs, it was worth it."

The wind shifted slightly, blowing the smoke form the campfire in her direction and giving her a good excuse to blink. Hopefully no one noticed the sudden mist in her eyes. She scrambled to her feet. "Well, I'd better get to the food before Neelix and Sarexa close down. Good night."

"Good night, Captain," several of them replied in unison.

Janeway walked away feeling surprised. They had to be aware of the damage to the ship, and yet not one of them had mentioned the possibility of starting a colony. The Doctor's program had been embraced so enthusiastically that she had simply assumed that would be their first thought. And yet, they were focused on the gains they had made and resuming the journey home.

How ironic, she thought, that just when I'm forced to consider settling down as a realistic possibility, the crew is eager to press on.

"Captain," a voice, barely more than a whisper, called out of the shadows.

She stopped, and realized that she had walked farther than she had intended. She was a good twenty meters past the last campsite. The sound came from the darkness beyond the perimeter. Wary, she stopped. "Yes?"

"Captain Janeway."

"Yes." She had the itchy feeling that something was wrong, and tensed. "I can't see you."

A shadow stepped forward. She couldn't make out features in the dim light, but from the size and shape she recognized their alien guest. "Jol? Is something wrong?"

"Yes, Captain." He still spoke very quietly. "Please, you must come with me."

There was definitely something wrong. "Where's Mr. Gennaro?" she asked.

"Please, Captain." Jol held out one hand. "There is no time. There will be a war if you do not come."

"A war?" she asked sharply. "Someone is going to attack Voyager?"

"Yes," he said. "Please, come with me."

"Not yet," she said. "We have protocols. I can't come alone." She hit her combadge; there was no response, and she realized she was beyond the limited range of the crippled comm system. Gaze fixed on Jol, she closed her hand over the phaser on her waist and raised it. "Let's return to Voyager."

Jol's only reaction was to touch a fingertip to a button on his tunic. Almost immediately, she felt the skin-tingling sensation of a transporter.

Oh, damn, Kathryn thought as she felt the dematerialization begin. Not again.

*****

ACT FOUR

(20:15 - 20:20)

The transporter process felt odd and it was slow, much slower than she was accustomed to. Kathryn fancied she could feel every molecule as it coalesced and regrouped. It was as if her consciousness arrived before the rest of her and she was able to experience the process as a sensory event, noting the pin-pricks of sound, the blurring of colors that slowly came into focus, and most of all, the sudden, surprising throbbing of her heart when suddenly she became a being of flesh and blood again. The whole thing left her momentarily dizzy.

Despite the vertigo, she sensed the space around her was cramped. As her vision cleared, she saw she was on a small transporter pad, just big enough for two and just tall enough to let her stand erect. Beyond the pad was a small room with a cumbersome control console that left only a narrow egress to the door. The lighting was soft, like sunlight filtered by leaves in a glade, but it couldn't make the room attractive. It was functional, without any attempt at aesthetics.

The technician behind the console was obviously of Jol's species, short and dark with unnaturally large eyes, but with streaks of gold running through his hair. His expression as he stared at Kathryn was undisguised curiosity. He might have seemed harmless except that he wore a uniform of brown pants and a tunic of brown with sleeves of hunter green, decorated with gold piping at the collar and wrists.

"Please hurry, Captain," Jol said, stepping off the pad.

Anger rushed in to replace the lightheadedness, and she did not move. Her phaser was still pointed at him. "I'm not going anywhere until I get some answers. Am I a prisoner?"

"No, of course not." He looked astonished. "Why would you think that?"

"You just kidnapped me, Jol. Among my people, that is a hostile act."

He looked to the technician, then to Kathryn. "I apologize for the abruptness, but it was necessary. Colonel Rahl will explain." He spoke quickly, and extended a hand. "Please, put your weapon down and come with me. The Colonel is waiting."

She looked around, considering. Jol had made no attempt to disarm her nor had the technician. They had to know that she could stun them both if she chose. Might as well find out what's going on, she thought. She lowered her phaser but kept it in her hand, and followed Jol.

"Where are we?" she asked as they entered a corridor that was shorter and narrower than anything on Voyager except the Jefferies tubes.

"This is the Top Bough, a patrol ship of the Vordai Space Defense Force."

"I see. And should I assume that you are an officer of that same force?"

Her intentionally icy tone apparently registered with him, because his cheeks darkened to a deep mahogany. "Ah, yes. Again, I apologize, Captain. The deception was necessary."

"You keep using that word - necessary."

"Yes. Please, Colonel Rahl will explain." He opened a gate that led to a lift platform, and indicated that she should step in. He followed her, and touched a control. The platform rose jerkily, knocking Kathryn slightly off balance. The Vordai Space Defense Force apparently didn't place much emphasis on comfort.

She righted herself, still frowning. The little difference in the turbolift drove home the fact that she was alone on an alien ship. There was no way to communicate with Voyager. For the time being, she was on her own.

*****

(20:20 - 20:25)

Chakotay was mad. Furious, to be specific. And he had no one to blame but himself. He was the one who had convinced the captain to trust Jol, and allow him to interact with the crew. His blind faith had resulted in Janeway's abduction, and he could only hope that no harm had befallen her.

If anything happens to Kathryn I'll snap Jol's neck myself, he vowed silently.

His grim thoughts were interrupted when Tom and B'Elanna arrived on the Bridge, concern for their missing captain evident in their faces.

"Chakotay," Tom greeted. "Any word on Captain Janeway?"

"Not yet. I need you and B'Elanna to check the sensors on the shuttles and find out if they detected anything."

"We'll get right on it," B'Elanna declared.

They headed back they way they had come just as Neelix and Sarexa arrived and approached Chakotay. "Commander," Neelix greeted.

"What did you and Sarexa see out there, Neelix?" Chakotay asked. "Was there any sign of a ship or a land vehicle that the transport could have originated from?"

"No, sir. We saw Captain Janeway talking to Jol, and after a couple of minutes she started back toward Voyager with Jol following her. But then they both suddenly vanished in the transporter beam."

The XO sighed. "If the communications system was working I could try contacting her via her combadge, but as it is we can barely contact one another inside the ship," he said. "And sensors still aren't functioning well enough to scan for her combadge signal or her bio signature."

"What about sending out search parties?" Neelix suggested. "Perhaps the facility where Jol is holding Captain Janeway is somewhere on the planet."

Chakotay shook his head. "As anxious as I am to find her, I can't risk sending out search parties in shuttles or on foot until we know who and what we're dealing with."

A chirp from his combadge interrupted their conversation, and a moment later Harry's voice said, "Kim to Commander Chakotay."

"Go ahead, Harry."

"Sir, Ensign Katell and I found Gennaro unconscious in the corridor on Deck Six near the escape hatch," Harry told him.

Gennaro was the security officer who had been assigned to Jol. This was not good news.

"What's his condition?" Chakotay questioned.

"He appears to have been stunned, but doesn't have any injuries. We're going to take him to Sickbay and let the doc take a look at him."

"Acknowledged. Ask the doctor to contact me about his condition once he's finished the exam."

"Aye, sir."

The First Officer's face was grim as he severed the transmission. The captain had been abducted and one of their crew assaulted.

So much for luck being on our side, he mused bitterly, and tapped his combadge. "Bridge to Lieutenant Kim."

"Kim here."

"Harry, once you've delivered Gennaro to Sickbay, I need you to return to the Bridge and assume command. I'm going to take one of the class 2 shuttles and start a preliminary search for the captain."

"Acknowledged, Commander. I'll be there in five minutes."

Chakotay ended the transmission just as Neelix addressed him.

"With all due respect, Commander, didn't you just say a moment ago that it was too dangerous to send out a search party?" he asked carefully.

"I did, but now that we know Jol isn't above assaulting one of our own to get what he wants, it's become too dangerous not to start the search."

*****

(20:25 - 21:05)

The platform lurched its way to what appeared to be the ship's Bridge, Janeway judged to be about the same size as that of a Defiant-class vessel. Although everyone in sight was wearing the brown and hunter green uniform, Colonel Rahl was unmistakable. He stood in the center of the Bridge with an air of authority that spoke of command. His dark eyes fixed on her immediately and although she sensed no threat in them, she held herself ready for anything.

Jol led her off the platform and to his superior officer. "Captain Janeway, may I present Colonel Rahl. Colonel, it is my privilege to introduce Captain Kathryn Janeway, commander of the starship Voyager of the United Federation of Planets."

Rahl bowed deeply from the waist. "Captain Janeway. A difficult way to make first contact."

She inclined her head. "We're in agreement, Colonel. Jol assures me that you can explain why it was necessary to abduct me."

"Your ship's external communications are not functional and we have very little time." Rahl gestured to one of his officers. "In a moment, we will be in direct contact with the Minister of Extraplanetary Affairs and ambassadors from the other worlds in this region. It is imperative that you explain who you are, where you come from, and why you are on that planet."

"I don't understand," she said.

"I realize that you have very little reason to trust me, Captain, but I must ask you to do so. Believe me, the fate of your ship and mine depend on it."

Before she decided to agree, a communications monitor suddenly illuminated. Four humanoids of different species sat stiffly at a table. The Vordai Minister was easy to identify from the dark skin and large eyes, but the others were unknown to her. One appeared almost human except for ridges on each cheek and soft pink hair; another was vaguely feline in appearance, with small, pointed ears and a cap of marmalade fur; and the fourth was overwhelmingly beige -- beige skin, beige eyes, beige hair, beige tunic -- with the only spot of color coming from a vivid turquoise feather decorating the shiny bald pate. Interpreting body language of unknown species was tricky, but Janeway felt certain that these four beings were extremely tense.

"Colonel Rahl," the Vordai at the table said. His skin was deeply wrinkled and his hair a musty shade of gray. "You promised an explanation for the violation of the Peace."

Rahl gave a short nod. "Ambassadors, the nut of it is, there has been no violation of the Peace. The ship that landed on the Treaty Planet is not from this region and was unaware of our agreement. Allow me to present its commander to explain further."

Recognizing her cue, she said, "I am Captain Kathryn Janeway, commanding the Federation starship Voyager. I apologize if we intruded, but -"

"Federation?" The beige ambassador interrupted her. "What is this Federation?"

"The United Federation of Planets," she explained. "It's a voluntary alliance of more than one hundred and fifty worlds located approximately fifteen thousand light years from here. May I ask whom I am addressing?"

"I am the Ambassador of the Grevel-Ash Republic." She seemed to be affronted that she had not been recognized, and the vivid feather bobbed as if in indignation. "Why is your ship fifteen thousand light years from its own territory?"

"We were brought here against our will," she explained. "A powerful being pulled my ship seventy-five thousand light years across the galaxy, then died before he could return us. We mean no harm to anyone. We simply want to get home again."

"Then why," the ambassador with the pink hair asked suspiciously, "did you land on the Treaty Planet?"

"We had no choice. It was an emergency. We were using an experimental propulsion system. When it failed, all the systems on the ship failed. We had to land while we still had the ability, or abandon ship." She looked at them all. "We know nothing about your treaty or about this planet. If we have violated any laws, I assure you it was unintentional."

Rahl leaned forward. "The state of emergency is verified, Ambassadors. We have records of the descent and current scans confirming the damage to the ship."

The Vordai minister seemed only slightly appeased. "Now that you've landed," he asked, "what are your intentions?"

"To repair my ship and return to our journey," Janeway said promptly.

"And if this is not possible? Do you intend to colonize that planet?"

From the way all four ambassadors tensed, she sensed that this was a key question. "We have no desire to start a colony. Our only wish is to return to our home. The ship is badly damaged and we don't know yet how much time will be required for repairs. But once Voyager is space-worthy, we will leave."

"But if the ship cannot be repaired?" The Vordai ambassador was leaning forward now, staring intently.

"The ship will be repaired." Janeway made certain her tone conveyed no doubt.

The ambassadors seemed to relax at the same instant. Colonel Rahl said, "You see. It is as I said. There has been no violation of the Peace. These are unlucky travelers who inadvertently trespassed. The Treaty Planet will not be exploited."

The pink-haired ambassador nodded. "I concur. The Gunrath'u Fleet will withdraw."

"As will the Grevel-Ash," the beige ambassador.

"And the Minenne," said the previously silent, fur-capped ambassador.

The Vordai ambassador smiled. "Thank you, Colonel Rahl. You have done us all a great service today. Captain Janeway, we shall expect to see you soon." Rahl bowed as the screen went dark.

Janeway turned to him. "What was that all about?"

"Let me show you." Rahl nodded to a subordinate, and the screen filled with a tactical display. "That is the Treaty Planet below. The red lights indicate the Gunrath'u ships. The blue lights are the Grevel-Ash, the yellow are Minenne, and the green are Vordai. You just averted a war, Captain."

She looked at the schematic and felt a bolt of alarm. The red lights alone were more than the green and yellow lights combined, while the blue were somewhere in between -- and they were all converging on the planet. Then, as she watched, the ships changed course and began to retreat in four different directions. "I don't understand."

"We live in a delicate balance," he told her. There are four powers contesting for supremacy in this region of space: the Vordai Circle, the Minenne Confederacy, the Grevel-Ash Republic, and the Gunrath Oligarchy. Until ten years ago, there was war between one or the other almost continuously. That planet below was one of the reasons."

He touched another control, and the screen showed a sweeping vista of mountain, lake and forest. "This is the northern continent. As you can see, it is a verdant world. It is also a mineralogical treasure trove. And as it happens, it is the last planet in the region suitable for colonization. All four governments covet it. Ten years ago, when the last war ended, we agreed that no one planet would attempt to colonize it until an agreement could be reached for joint development." His voice turned dry. "Ten years later, the politicians are still negotiating the terms. The four worlds take turns patrolling, assuring that no one tries to gain an advantage over the others."

"So when we landed," she said slowly, "each world thought one of the others was breaking the agreement."

Rahl smiled. "Exactly. You are fortunate, Captain, that the Vordai currently have patrol duty. Our scanning capabilities are far superior to the other worlds, and we are not as quick to fire as some of the others. We knew immediately that you were a new species to us. What we didn't know is whether you were working for one of the other worlds."

Janeway finally relaxed, and returned her phaser to its place on her waist. Smiling slightly, she turned to Jol. "You could have asked."

Jol's smile was lopsided. "Had you been our enemy, I doubt you would have admitted it. The deception was necessary to learn the truth."

She turned back to Rahl. "What happens now?"

"I think," he said with a smile, "that you should tell your people you are unharmed." He changed the view on the screen back to the tactical display. In addition to the retreating ships and Vordai patrol, two white lights were clearly rising from the planet's surface. "I believe that they are looking for you."

*****

(21:05 - 21:10)

Inside the shuttle Copernicus, Tom kept the craft at cruising speed only a few hundred kilometers above the planet's surface while Chakotay ran continuous scans of the region.

"Are you picking up anything yet?" Tom asked.

"Nothing on the surface," Chakotay answered. "I'm going to switch to long range sensors and see if I can detect any ships in orbit."

He ran his hands across his panel, setting the sensors for maximum range, and waited in impatient silence for the scans to be completed.

"Even if Jol did take the captain to another ship, there's no guarantee its still around," Tom pointed out.

Chakotay gave him a sideways glance. "Thank you for that optimistic observation, Lieutenant," he replied sarcastically. "Just fly the shuttle."

Tom shook his head but wisely made no reply, just as the computer beeped to signal the completion of the scans. Chakotay quickly leaned forward to review the findings, and released a heavy sigh.

"We've got trouble," he said. "According to these readings, there are a half dozen ships of unknown origin in orbit above the colony."

"Are they armed?"

"Unfortunately. With Voyager out of commission, we may as well paint a target on the hull."

"What do you want to do?" Tom asked.

"We need to return to Voyager and gather the crew inside the ship," Chakotay answered. "The only chance we have is if the radiation and plasma leaks mask the crew's life signs and they assume we were all killed when the ship crashed."

"We landed," Tom interjected. "Rather roughly, but it was a landing, not a crash."

"Whatever. Turn the shuttle around and get us back to Voyager at full impulse."

"Yes, sir."

Just then the computer beeped again, to signal an incoming transmission from one of the alien vessels.

"We're being hailed," Tom said. "So much for escaping detection."

The XO shot him another glare as he input the command into the computer to respond to the hail. "This is Commander Chakotay aboard the Federation shuttlecraft Copernicus. To whom am I speaking?"

"It's me, Chakotay," Janeway's voice responded.

Tom and Chakotay exchanged a surprised look as the latter said, "It's good to hear your voice, Captain. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. I'm on board one of the Vordai ships with Jol and the Vordai commander, Colonel Rahl."

"And I suppose they have a perfectly legitimate reason for kidnapping you?" Chakotay pressed.

"More or less."

"That sounds ominous," Tom muttered under his breath.

"Will they allow us to transport you aboard the shuttle?" Chakotay asked.

"They're returning me to Voyager. I'll meet you there."

"Aye, Captain."

"And by the way, Commander, you were right after all."

"About?"

"It appears that luck is finally on our side after all. Janeway out."

Tom and Chakotay exchanged a dubious look at that, but said nothing.

 

EPILOGUE

(30:45 - 31:05)

The eastern skies were awash with a red and pink sunrise as Kathryn stood before the assembled crew. Nearly one hundred and fifty faces waited for her to speak; Tuvok and the other five patients were still in Sickbay and the Doctor had remained them. She was anxious for her old friend to recover so she could ask how he knew that the Vordai ships were in orbit above the planet.

She took a moment to study the faces before her, feeling a surge of affection and of responsibility. Samantha and Naomi stood side by side, between Neelix and Sarexa on their left and Icheb, Carey and Vorik on their right. Tom stood behind B'Elanna, near Harry and Marla. The Delaneys, Lessing, Tessoni, all of them looked back at her expectantly. These were her people, and she owed them nothing less than the truth. And nothing less than her best.

Chakotay stood at the far right of the front row. He looked tired, and with reason; like her, he hadn't been able to grab more than a brief nap since the crisis began. When she finished her discussions on the Vordai ship, she asked him to return to the Top Bough and try to figure out exactly where they were. Now he gave her a smile of encouragement. "Good morning," she began.

"Good morning, Captain," Chell called back.

She smiled at his enthusiasm. "Well. What's the saying - 'what a difference a day makes.' The dday before yesterday, we thought we were on the last leg of our journey. Today, we know we've got a lot of work in front of us. First of all, I want to commend Lt. Torres and the Engineering team for the work they did on the transwarp project. Commander Chakotay was able to confirm our position from orbit, and you'll be glad to know that we covered slightly more than 10,000 light years in just three weeks. We are now only 15,300 light years from Earth."

"Yes!" Paris shouted, and the crew as a whole began to applaud. She noted Hugh Murphy was grinning widely, probably thinking he'd won the betting pool.

"I also want to commend all of you, and especially the Security Department, for your response to the crisis yesterday. You performed in the best tradition of Starfleet, and I'm proud of you." She paused as they applauded again. Most everyone was smiling, she saw. They really were a remarkable crew.

"There's more," she went on. "We should know by now that there's no such thing as unclaimed real estate. This lovely planet is a bone of contention between four different worlds, but fortunately, they have all agreed to let us stay long enough to make repairs. We can set up any temporary structures we need, and if anyone wants to camp out for a while rather than sleep on the ship we have permission for an unlimited number of tents. However, we cannot build any permanent structures and we cannot undertake any mining. We can gather food supplies, and seeds and cuttings but we can't plant any crops. We have to leave the planet as we found it.

"I know things looked bleak yesterday, and we still have a big job ahead of us. But I am confident that we will have Voyager back in space soon, and that we will make it home -- perhaps not as quickly as we thought yesterday, but we will make it home."

They applauded again, and she heard several people call out, "You bet!" and "Of course we will!" Then she heard Neelix's voice rising above the noise. "Captain? Does this planet have a name?"

"It has four," she said with a laugh. "Each of the four worlds that claim it calls it something different. I prefer the name given to it by our new friends, the Vordai. They call this planet 'New Hope.' Now, I suggest we all get to work. The sooner Voyager is repaired, the sooner we can resume our journey."

The group broke up, with small groups heading off in different directions. She turned to Chakotay. "They're taking this surprisingly well. I thought more of them would be disappointed that we didn't make it home, or even that we aren't going to try to colonize."

"You've said it before, they are a remarkable crew." He smiled. "How about you?"

"I'm fine. I meant what I said. Voyager will fly again, and we will get home." She turned and looked off toward the western horizon. "In the meantime, we can enjoy this place. I hear there's a lake about hundred kilometers over there. Once we've got full power restored, I might go check it out."

"I'm going to hold you to that," he said, his smile widening to a grin. "I'd like to see you in a bathing suit."

She turned back to him and the witty retort suddenly fled from her mind. His eyes were warm and admiring and that smile...that smile should be labeled a dangerous weapon, she thought. It had a way of sneaking past her guard when she least expected it.

"Captain," Neelix called. She turned to see him bustling toward her with a mug in his hand. "It's not exactly coffee, but it's close."

Both irritated and relieved by the interruption, she took the steaming mug and sniffed it. The aroma reminded her of pecans and nutmeg. Pleasantly surprised, she took a sip. It wasn't coffee, but it wasn't bad, either. "I think I like this. What is it?"

"It's a Vordai blend, made from the bark of nut trees that they roast and grind. Jol gave it to me when I told him you would be missing your coffee until we fix the replicators." He beamed at her, clearly pleased.

"Even when the replicators are up, coffee won't be a priority. She took another sip. "You might like this, Chakotay. It's not as biting as coffee but it's got more flavor than tea."

"I don't recommend it if you're going to try to sleep, Commander," Neelix said. "It's highly caffeinated. But if you want some, I have more back at the kitchen. And a pot for your Ready Room, Captain."

"All right, I'll give it a try. I'm not ready to try to sleep yet." Chakotay gestured in the direction of the temporary kitchen and Kathryn fell into step between him and Neelix.

"If we had to land someplace, Captain, we couldn't have been luckier. It's late summer and the fruit trees are ripening and the local wild vegetables are almost ready for harvest. Beside feeding everyone, we'll be able to get enough seeds and cuttings to replenish Airponics and most of the food stores." Neelix was clearly in his element. "When Voyager is ready to lift off, we'll be ready."

"That's good to hear," Kathryn said. Then she stopped in surprise. They had reached the first of the campsites and Harry Kim and Marla Gilmore were lifting a large piece of flat board to attach to a post.

"What do you think, Captain?" Harry asked, smiling. "We started it last night, before you disappeared. When you told us the name of the planet, it seemed like serendipity."

The sign read "Camp New Hope" in bright blue letters. Beneath it, smaller letters proclaimed "Earth or Bust."

A lump formed suddenly in Kathryn's throat, and she couldn't answer.

Gilmore seemed to take the silence as disapproval. "It's not permanent, Captain. We'll take it with us when we leave."

"I like it," Neelix declared.

Chakotay said quietly, "Captain?"

"Put it up," she said, her voice husky. "It's a good sign." Earth or Bust, indeed. I'll get them home, she promised herself silently. I will get them home.

 

 

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Penny A. Proctor (aka, E.J. Andrews) has a fan fiction website, here