100 Days of Respite

March 28, 2187

Captain's Log: Kathryn Janeway, USS Voyager NCC-74656

Subjective Stardate: 51497.5

It's been a day since Tom Paris, Neelix, Ayala, and Vorik reported that they were going to investigate a distress signal on a routine scouting mission in the Baxial, Neelix's old freighter. Unfortunately, unlike other missions, they didn't just find lost survivors of the Reapers' attack on this universe's Milky Way galaxy; they apparently ran afoul of Batarian pirates and suffered at least one fatality. Voyager's run of good fortune after fleeing into a pocket of interphase is over.

"Tuvok to Captain Janeway."

Kathryn Janeway pulled her face out of her hands and looked up at the ceiling of her repaired ready room. "Janeway here. What is it, Tuvok?"

"The Batarian destroyer Lieutenant Paris captured and the civilian transport he rescued are approaching the shipyard. They will dock in approximately fifteen minutes."

"Acknowledged. I'll be on the bridge shortly." Janeway took a look out the windows of her ready room, a view dominated by what was left of the Geth shipyards in the Dholen system. During the war, the Reapers had devastated much of the infrastructure here before a combined Geth/Quarian fleet drove them off. In the aftermath of the Reapers' destruction, the shipyards offered the wounded Voyager a place to heal the wounds inflicted by the Krenim, including the massive damage to Deck 5 that annihilated sickbay, and built shelters for thousands of refugees who'd fled into deep space looking for a chance at survival.

In the weeks after Voyager emerged in this alternate universe, nearly two hundred years in the past, the crews' mental wounds had also begun to heal. Perhaps none more important than those of the Doctor, the Emergency Medical Hologram forced to abandon two shipmates when the EPS conduits on Deck 5 blew. The crew needed their only doctor in tip-top mental shape, even if his mind was a series of highly complex algorithms instead of biochemical reactions.

Janeway pushed herself out of her chair with great reluctance. Things had been going so well, she thought bitterly. Why does it seem like every break we get comes at a great cost?

As she stepped out the ready room door and onto the bridge, an overwhelming sense of wrongness swept over her. It passed when she remembered that the entire bridge interior, save the dedication plaque and railing, had been stripped of duranium and other materials that weren't available in this universe. They'd been replaced with alloys common to this universe that were easier to produce and nearly as strong, and they reacted to the standard Starfleet paint differently than the "proper" materials. The colors were grayer and less reflective, which made the bridge look colder and more forbidding.

Tuvok stood in front of the captain's chair, ready to move aside if Janeway approached. She didn't, preferring to lean on the railing. "Can we open a comm. channel to Baixal?"

The dark skinned Vulcan raised an eyebrow. "Of course, Captain."

Whoever was at Ops – a quick look revealed someone with dark hair, but not Harry Kim – did the job.

Ensign Vorik appeared on the screen instead of Tom Paris; a minor spike of irritation went through her, but that was brushed aside. Before the Vulcan could speak, she asked, "What happened?"

Vorik, to his credit, wasn't flustered at all by the captain shedding formalities. "We discovered the transport Hasara's Folly being raided by the destroyer Iron Fist. Based on our sensor readings, there was only a token force securing the ship, while most of the pirates were aboard the transport. Lieutenants Paris and Ayala determined the best approach was to beam stun grenades into the Iron Fist, then beam aboard the Hasara's Folly and attempt to negotiate the pirates' surrender."

Neelix's old freighter had been refitted with a transporter as part of its new mission as a search and rescue vessel. Tuvok recommended giving the ship a healthy amount of stun grenades, given what Voyager's Quarian and Geth hosts had told them about life in the Terminus Systems, and Janeway had agreed. Enough blood had been shed in this galaxy already, and she didn't want to add to it.

"A comm. channel was left open to monitor their progress; in case of an emergency, I was to beam Mr. Neelix into the room with a phaser with a wide beam setting to stun the pirates holding the transport's crew and passengers hostage." Vorik paused. "That part of the plan succeeded. Unfortunately, we did not detect the presence of a Krogan mercenary hidden in the main cargo bay until it was too late. After Mr. Neelix ambushed the pirates, the Krogan ambushed and killed him. Lts. Paris and Ayala killed the Krogan before he could inflict harm on anyone else, then secured the prisoners."

Janeway sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Neelix might have been annoying, a mediocre (at best) chef, and gotten them into all sorts of trouble over the years, but he'd been useful in making deals and negotiating with Delta Quadrant natives. But she felt relief that he'd been the one to die. Too many people from the Alpha Quadrant had died getting this far, and like it or not, Neelix didn't have any skills that were truly irreplaceable, or family she'd have to explain this to.

"Alright," she said finally, "get Baixal in the shuttle bay, and let Paris and Ayala take Hasara's Folly and Iron Fist to the refugee station. Let them know I expect a full report by this time tomorrow."

"Understood, Captain." Vorik cut the link, and the viewscreen immediately switched to show the two new vessels joining the fleet of refugees in the system.

"Tuvok, any news from Arrow of Time?" she asked, referring to the Krenim cruiser that pursued them into the interphase. Luckily, the Krenim's brain chemistry made them more susceptible to its mind altering effects, allowing them to capture the ship once they emerged in this universe. Practically half of Voyager's was aboard it, picking apart its secrets.

One of those secrets was the temporal variance that allowed chroniton torpedoes to pierce Voyager's shields. With that information, the crew had been able to whip up a defense against the Krenim weapons. But Chakotay was pushing the crew to learn more about the ship, in the hopes of taking it back with Voyager to their home universe. Janeway admitted that having a second ship as backup was a good idea, but she loathed the idea of splitting the crew for any reason.

"Commander Chakotay reports that he has a preliminary list of personnel to crew the vessel," Tuvok looked as impassive as normal, a beacon of calm in this rough time. "However, he admits that without recruiting from the refugees, both ships will be left with dangerous gaps in personnel, especially in the medical department."

Janeway sighed again, wishing she had a cup of coffee in her hand. "How many refugees could we take without seriously altering crew quarters if everyone returned to Voyager?"

"Twenty," Tuvok replied without a second thought. "That would meet the bare minimum requirements to run both ships."

"Tell Chakotay I'll think about it." Janeway turned back to the ready room. Probably after my chat with Admiral Hackett.

The Haven was the name of the gargantuan Geth space station that had been built to house refugees in the aftermath of the Reaper War. Unlike most Geth facilities, it had windows, life support, and wide variety of technology that Voyager's crew had traded in exchange for help repairing their vessel. That included four holodecks, multiple sickbays, communal replicators in several areas on every level, making it a rather pleasant place, at least by refugee camp standards.

That was not where Tom Paris was taking Iron Fist.

The ship would dock with a similar station nearby, setup to handle people too dangerous to mix with the general refugee population. It was called The Prison, because nobody could think of anything better to call it. It lacked most of the amenities, out of security concerns, and had a significant compliment of Geth aboard to keep the prisoners in line. It brought back bad memories of when he and Harry Kim were stuck on a similar space station, falsely imprisoned because they were too close to an explosion and were perfect scapegoats for a repressive regime.

Tom put those thoughts aside as he finished docking the beat up Batarian destroyer. I'm not going there to visit, he reminded himself, I'm just dropping off some cargo. The airlock connections came up blue, the Batarian equivalent of green in these situations. As soon as he opened the outer doors, a squad of Geth came aboard, ready to take the prisoners.

"Great, just come on in," Tom muttered under his breath. Then he shook his head and tried to get himself to think more positively. That was a bit hard, since the thing that immediately came to mind was not having to deal with Neelix's cooking anymore, which made him feel a bit guilty about what happened. He knew it was irrational – they hadn't had the time to do a detailed bioscan, not when lives were on the line – but it still felt like it was his fault. He'd been in command of the mission, after all.

He got out of the helmsman's seat and walked into the elevator taking him to the deck the airlock was on. Still can't get used to this design, he thought, watching the diagram that tracked the elevator's progress. It was odd to see a ship whose decks were laid out like a building's floors, but he could understand the reasoning behind it, given the technology available for a ship this size.

The elevator finally came to a stop, allowing Tom to wind his way through the cramped confines of the deck. It reminded him a lot of a submarine he toured once at a museum, a relic from the 20th century that had miraculously survived through the Eugenics Wars and World War III. There was a lot of exposed piping, valves, and random pieces of equipment jutting out of the bulkheads, all so the crew could potentially fix a problem before it became fatal.

When he arrived at the airlock, he found himself staring a bunch of Geth Primes, and wondered, How the hell are these guys going to fit through that maze? Then he mentally shrugged and said, "Follow me, guys."

The Geth complied, moving around the obstacles with a grace Tom never expected. The elevator could barely fit two Primes and two people, so Tom hung back, letting the Geth handle moving the prisoners. It only took ten trips for them to get the entire crew (minus the Krogan he and Ayala vaporized), but it felt like an eternity. The bile and rage in him threatened to bubble up whenever another pair of prisoners were paraded in front of him, and he couldn't wait to return to Voyager…

Captain Halid'Nevo vas Konoma grunted when Captain Janeway simply beamed right into the room used for Quantum Entanglement Communications conferences with Admiral Hackett. Halid was used to it by now – Janeway had an unhealthy obsession with her ship, even for a captain, and couldn't bear to be off it more than necessary. Then again, if my ship was vulnerable and stuck in a strange place, relying on the kindness of stranger, I might be as paranoid.

Right on time, the holographic image of Admiral Hackett, the de facto leader of humanity and the majority of the surviving military forces, materialized in front of them. Thanks to Voyager, the hologram looked lifelike, instead of the normal low resolution, blue version of old. And due to that, it was impossible to miss how tired Hackett looked.

"I have good news, Captains." In Halid's experience, Hackett never bothered with formalities, preferring to get straight to business. "We're almost done repairing the Earth mass relay. Plans are to run a test flight within a week of completion."

Halid nodded. Fixing the mass relays was the first step in repairing galactic society, and getting millions of refugees to their homes. Not only that, but it was critical in moving supplies and materials to where they were needed. Whole civilizations had built their supply lines around the mass relays and their ability to get ships across thousands of light years in seconds.

"We're about 80% finished with repairs to the relay in the Dholen system," Halid reported. "Finishing the prison station managed to free up some resources for that task, but not enough to really accelerate things. We might be able to get things done faster if Voyager could assist us, after its repairs are done."

"Voyager might be able to provide some help," Janeway said. "We're almost ready to go on our shakedown cruise. I'm sure we can make some time to help do some heavy lifting while testing our tractor beams."

"That would be appreciated," Halid replied. While the Voyager crew had traded a great deal of technology, they kept plenty to themselves, including their tractor beams.

"How are things in the Far Rim?" Hackett asked, perhaps fishing for good news.

"I think we've found all the refugees we're going to find," Janeway ground out. "There might be some on planets beyond sensor range of our shuttles, but it seems unlikely. The Far Rim was never a tourist destination before the war began, from what I've been told, never mind afterward."

Hackett looked at Janeway askance for a moment. "That's unfortunate, but you're right, Captain. Unless there's information to the contrary, continuing search and rescue operations in the area is pointless. For now, you need to prioritize fixing the Dholen relay and reconnecting to the nearby clusters. Combining the Geth assets in Dholen and the Perseus Veil will allow us to speed up restoration of the relay network in that quarter of the galaxy."

Both captains nodded.

"That's all for now. Hackett out."

The holographic Hackett disappeared, leaving the human and Quarian in an uncomfortable silence.

"I heard what happened to your crewman," Halid blurted out when he saw Janeway reach for her combadge. "You have my condolences."

She stiffened, then nodded.

"Thank you," she said in a flat voice, then tapped her combadge. "Janeway to Voyager. One to beam up."

"I can't believe that Neelix's dead," Harry Kim said.

Chakotay looked up and turned his chair toward Harry's station. He sat in the starboard rear corner of the roughly trapezoidal bridge, with Harry on the other side. While the rest of the ship was swarming with Voyager personnel, ironically, the bridge was all but deserted. That gave Chakotay the freedom to speak his mind more than he normally would.

"On one hand," he said, trying to ease Harry into the discussion, "I can't believe it either. Whatever you want to say about his cooking, but Neelix was always pretty lucky and managed to get out of a lot of tough scrapes."

Harry smiled the ghost of a smile and turned towards Chakotay, putting his month old full lieutenant pips on display. Voyager's first officer felt a surge of pride in knowing he helped convince Janeway to give Harry his long overdue promotion. Of course, Harry himself had done a lot of the work himself, spending long hours analyzing the Arrow of Time.

And not to play favorites, Chakotay convinced Janeway to make Tom Paris a full lieutenant too, for his prominent role in Voyager's search and rescue efforts.

How far we've come, Chakotay mused. Four years ago, I would've probably killed Tom if I had the chance. Now I'm singing his praises to the captain.

"You're right, Neelix was pretty lucky. Remember the time he went on the mission to save Kes from Tieran?"

"Who could forget?" Chakotay faked a nostalgic smile for Harry's sake. In all honesty, the Talaxian irritated him most of the time, but for the sake of the crew, he never let on his true feelings. By the same token, he was never sure if the crew felt the same way about Neelix or genuinely liked him. "But that brings me back to my point. Neelix volunteered to go in and help rescue those people. He knew the risks and unfortunately, luck wasn't on his side this time."

Harry nodded solemnly. "I know… but sometimes… I just want to forget the risks and think everything will work out fine.

"I know how you feel." The corners of Chakotay's mouth pulled up. "Whenever a Maquis operation went badly, I'd let myself think that for an hour or two before calming down and thinking things through. If we want to keep the people we care about alive, we can't act like luck is always on our side – we have to be ready, whether we like it or not."

Harry leaned back in his chair, absorbing the message.

Chakotay took the initiative and changed the subject. "I gave the captain a prospective crew list for this bucket. I'm thinking about having you aboard as first officer."

Harry almost fell out of his chair in shock. "Me? First officer?"

"I'd ask Ayala, but he's the tactical officer," Chakotay, joked, smiling the whole time. "I figured it was time for you to start handling some bigger responsibilities on a regular basis. Are you up for the challenge?"

"I'd love to." Harry's expression shifted as he remembered something. "… After I talk to Lyndsay about it."

Chakotay nodded. After Voyager's arrival in this universe, Harry Kim had worked himself nearly to death, pulling double shifts to work on both Voyager and Arrow of Time. The Doctor had been forced to sedate him so the then-ensign could get some sleep, forcing Harry to confront the fact that many of his life choices were unhealthy. Harry's relationship with Lyndsay Ballard showed his newfound recognition of when something was unattainable and what a more realistic option was.

"Don't worry, we'll have plenty of time to work things out," Chakotay added. "The captain has a major case of separation anxiety, so it'll be a while before she agrees to anything, never mind finalized crew rosters."

Harry sighed in relief, but before he could open his mouth, klaxons began blaring and display panels lit up with alerts. Before Chakotay could even look at the readouts, a Geth Prime's voice came from his combadge.

"Chakotay-Commander, patrol vessels in the inner system have detected a vessel traversing the interphase."

"B'Elanna, how long before the warp core is at full power?"

"The best I can do is six minutes!"

Six minutes. An eternity when you didn't know if friend or foe was coming through the interphase.

"Do whatever it takes to get it online." Janeway dropped into her chair and pulled up a live sensor data stream on the console between her seat and Chakotay's. "Tuvok, are the temporal shields and new torpedo systems ready?"

Dark energy manipulation science and fragmented memories from Seven's time in the Borg collective provided a way to improve Voyager's anti-matter generators, giving the ship a surplus of anti-matter large enough to support a larger torpedo complement. That, in turn, led to refitting the torpedo bays to hold hundreds of torpedoes, with a new autoloader system that allowed Voyager to overwhelm enemies with dozens of torpedoes in rapid succession.

Theoretically, Voyager could take on everything that wasn't Borg and stand a chance of winning. The problem was that none of the upgrades or repairs to the ship were stress tested, never mind combat tested. Catastrophic failures were a very real possibility, potentially stranding Voyager in this universe even longer.

"Temporal shields are online. All torpedoes are armed and loaded. However, I would recommend firing individual torpedoes at this time." Tuvok came close to frowning as he considered the problem. "The loaders may fail if we attempt to sustain burst fire."

"Noted." Janeway turned her attention to the helm, where Tom Paris was in his seat, running preflight checks. She made a note to talk to him about what happened to Neelix personally; as the officer in charge of that mission, he probably felt an overwhelming responsibility for what happened, even if it wasn't something they could've foreseen. "Engine status?"

"You have full impulse as soon as we clear the dock." Tom checked a readout in front of him, then turned to Janeway. "The Geth have already retracted the docking arms and airlocks, Captain."

"Good. Fire aft thrusters and get us out of drydock, then activate impulse engines once we've reached minimum safe distance." Janeway turned and looked back at Tuvok. "Have the Geth finished setting up the asteroid blinds?"

The blinds were a necessity, due to Dholen's star turning imploding into an interphase, instead of going nova. The interphase didn't generate a gravitational field, which meant the planets and asteroids in the system were sent out flying into space. Luckily, that happened after the war, so the Geth were free to send out hundreds of ships, most not in the best of shape, to wrangle the most useful asteroids back into the system. After Voyager's arrival, they were organized in such a way that they'd screen any ships coming from the system's Oort Cloud, allowing them to ambush anything emerging from the interphase.

"The final asteroid was placed into position 72 hours ago. I have already plotted a course that should minimize the chance of our being detected."

"Transfer it to the helm. Mr. Paris, take us out, thrusters only. Go to best possible speed as soon as we clear the drydock." Janeway settled into her chair, tapping a few buttons to call up a status display for the ship's systems. Everything was highlighted in green or yellow, which was the best she could expect from the ship in its current state. "Mr. Dalby, hail the Arrow of Time."

"I've got Commander Chakotay, Captain," the former Maquis fighter replied, putting the audiovisual output on the main viewscreen.

"Status report." Janeway didn't bother with any hollow pleasantries. Arrow of Time and Voyager were the two strongest ships in the system… or this universe, for all they knew. If the new arrival was hostile and they couldn't stop them, the best they could hope to do was bloody it enough that the remaining forces of this galaxy could stop it.

"Still no solid readings, Captain." Chakotay scowled as someone in Operations gold handed him a padd. "Like our analyses predicted, Krenim sensors are better at detecting ships at long ranges than examining spatial anomalies at any range."

Janeway turned to Dalby. "What about our sensors?"

Dalby's face pinched as he came back into Janeway's scrutiny. "The passive sensors say there's about a 70% chance that whatever's in the interphase is a ship, ma'am. The only way to make sure is to do an active scan of the interphase."

"Belay that for now." Janeway turned back towards Chakotay. "We're still minutes away from full power. We'll have to hold back until then. The Geth outposts on the asteroids should be able to give you some assistance, but you might have to buy us time to get everything back online."

"I figured as much," Chakotay admitted. "We'll do what we can, but if things get desperate, we might have to use the chroniton torpedoes."

Arrow of Time's stock of temporal weapons was potentially their ace in the hole. For whatever reason, the Krenim had never bothered to equip their vessels with temporal shields, apparently believing that their ships could never be beaten or their crews were utterly loyal to their Imperium. Therefore, if the ship was Krenim, they could fire some of their irreplaceable weapons and destroy them. But that was a last resort; there were dozens of photon torpedoes on the Arrow of Time that were supposed to be used before that.

"That'll have to do." Janeway scowled, not at all pleased at the situation and what they had to work with. "Janeway out."

The minutes seemed to drag out forever, but B'Elanna finally got the warp core online, allowing Janeway to give herself a tiny bit of hope. With both Voyager and Arrow of Time at full power, they could put up enough of a fight to-

"Arrow of Time to all vessels. We have a visual on the contact. It's a Krenim Vindicator cruiser."

Janeway's ears perked up at that. Vindicator class cruisers were the most common Krenim vessels around – Arrow of Time was one, as were most of the vessels that had dogged Voyager through its trek through Krenim space. It also meant that, unless time progressed at a significantly higher rate on Voyager's native side of the interphase, there was a good chance the Krenim hadn't developed a defense against the negative neurological effects of the interphase. The entire crew could be dead or incapacitated, allowing them to capture yet another Krenim vessel.

"Mr. Paris, prepare to bring us perpendicular to the plane of the ecliptic on an attack vector with that ship. Tuvok, prepare to fire everything we've got. I want that ship's shields collapsed and its weapons offline as soon as possible. Have some security personnel ready to beam over once that's done."

Both men acknowledged her orders, but Janeway barely noticed that. She was far more preoccupied with the barely perceptible shaking of her hands.

"The cruiser is clearing the interphase…" The tension in Chakotay's voice was clear to everyone listening. "Interphase interference is clearing… There are no lifesigns aboard. I repeat, NO lifesigns!"

Sighs of relief could be heard all over the bridge, and Janeway wouldn't have been surprised if all the organic people assigned to defend the system had joined in the gesture.

"Mr. Tuvok, cancel red alert, but keep us at yellow alert for the next 24 hours. Mr. Paris, lock a tractor beam on that ship and take us back to drydock." Janeway looked at her hands, which shook no longer. "One quarter impulse – there's no need to rush. We've got all the time in the world."

"Creator-Kalo'Derren, Voyager is approaching drydock."

"It's about time." The Quarian woman swung her feet off the holoprojector they'd been resting on and began manipulating the holographic interfaces in front of her. Hers was one of the few still functioning; the rest were partly disassembled and being upgraded with Federation technology, which made flight traffic control a major pain.

At least I have a job to do, Kalo thought. Poor Tiin has to go look for work to do, since his ship is grounded.

For the Quarians, life in the Dholen system was dull, aside from the few ships and personnel that actually did anything. The Geth handled most daily operations, to the point that only the hundred or so Quarian scientists who'd been stuck in the Dholen system after the end of the war had permanent jobs. They were busy either working on the mass relay, or figuring out how to reproduce the technology Voyager's crew gave them. The rest, aside from authority figures like Haid'Nevo, were on rotating duty rosters, one day a week, to keep in practice. There simply wasn't a need for most of their skills on a regular basis, or for most of the ships to do anything.

"Voyager, this is Drydock D-42-1224 control. You are cleared for docking." The sleek Starfleet vessel was the envy of almost every Quarian that saw it. It looked so much nicer than the ships that made up the Migrant Fleet, and from what she'd heard, it was astonishingly luxurious once you were aboard.

Too bad we'll never be able to make something like it anytime soon. All the scientists keep complaining about needing substitutes for this or that material. One day, several months ago, she'd gotten bored and volunteered to assist the scientists with menial tasks, along with her lover Tiin. The scientists had been working on building a working holoprojector based on Voyager's technology, and most of her memories of that day consisted of long strings of profanity and shouting from the frustrated scientists.

"Roger that, control. We're on final approach now." The sleek ship slid into the insect-like drydock on minimal thruster power. Kalo expected that; from what she heard, the pilot was almost as skilled as a Migrant Fleet courier. That was high praise indeed, for Quarian couriers often relied on nothing but pure piloting skill to get out of tough situations.

"Voyager, the docking arms and airlocks are extending. You'll be connected to drydock power within two minutes."

"Thanks, control. Powering down engines and preparing to transfer to drydock power."

Kalo sighed. Her job was done; everything from this point on was handled by the Geth. Now all she had to do was sit and daydream about touring Voyager with boyfriend…

March 29, 2187

Captain's Log: Kathryn Janeway, USS Voyager NCC-74656

Subjective Stardate: 51499.45

The past day has been a nightmare and blessing combined. Thankfully, I've managed push off dealing with all the implications of the newest arrival to the Dholen until today. With my full staff together again, it's time to deal with all the unfinished business we've been putting off. Hopefully, things won't get worse during our meeting…

Seven of Nine settled into her chair near the round end of the conference room table, almost directly opposite Captain Janeway. It was, in her mind, the most efficient placement when reporting on matters of great importance. Of course, when she did not have relevant information, she preferred sitting closer to the captain, where she would be more easily overlooked.

The bitter odor of coffee wafted over from Janeway's usual mug of coffee.

Seven did her best to ignore the smell and focus on Lieutenant Torres' briefing. While most of it was utterly irrelevant to her tasks in Astrometrics or her efforts to upgrade the Aeroshuttle, there were a few things worth noting. They mostly related to the power systems, which were critical to the performance of the Astrometrics sensors.

Once Torres finished, Janeway looked directly at Seven. "Now that that's out of the way, what have you learned about our new arrival, Seven?"

A few taps on a new control panel built into the table activated a holoprojector mounted on the ceiling. A rotating model of a Krenim cruiser floated in mid-air.

"The Krenim vessel we captured yesterday is the Imperium's Hammer. Based on the log files we have retrieved, the vessel was notified of the Arrow of Time's disappearance 74.7942 days ago, when the ship missed a routine communication window with Imperium Command. 5 days later, the Imperium's Hammer arrived at the interphase to investigate." Seven called up a new hologram, projecting the vessel's flight path through the interphase. "Later that day, at approximately 18:32 hours, the vessel entered the interphase at impulse. At no time did any of the crew change course or alter speed."

"Well, that explains how the ship got here," Lt. Paris muttered, then he frowned. "You said they found out about the Arrow of Time disappearing 75 days ago. Did it take them a month to send a message to the ship, or is time going slower on our side of the interphase?"

Several of the other officers nodded, wanting to know the answer themselves.

"Based on a comparison of the communication logs on both Krenim vessels, I have deduced that there is indeed a time differential. Each day here only accounts for 74.7942% of a day in our native universe." Seven paused. "However, that is not the most important data obtained from the Imperium's Hammer."

"If it isn't, then what is?" Lt. Torres usual lack of patience and tact was on full display.

"Two days after entering the interphase, the ship detected a massive surge of chroniton particles from our reality. A surge so massive that the ship's sensors, which were affected by the interphase, could clearly detect and identify it."

Tuvok turned to the captain. "Such a massive amount of chronitons could be a sign of a new Krenim temporal weapon."

Janeway frowned. "Or perhaps something even worse… a time travel event that altered the timeline."

"Is there any evidence that massive chroniton surges are connected to changes in the timeline?" Chakotay asked. It was a reasonable and logical question, in Seven's mind, because the Federation lacked the ability to detect time travel events as they occurred.

"The Borg have recorded multiple instances of massive chroniton surges occurring during time travel events," Seven explained. "Unless the changes to the timeline actively endanger the Collective, there is no action taken."

"Seems kind of… lazy," Lt. Kim looked uncomfortable as everyone turned their attention to him. "Well, you'd think the Borg would want to avoid people altering history, right?"

"Predicting the future is illogical," Seven stated flatly. "There are too many variables for even the Collective to track, even if technology existed to allow someone to "scan" the future. Most time travel events only affect when a species is assimilated, and to date, none have threatened to destroy the Collective entirely."

"So the Borg won't bother to investigate this occurrence," Janeway mused out loud. "What does it mean for us?"

"If it's a single event, there shouldn't be any problems," Chakotay noted. "But if it's not, and someone is deliberately trying to change the timeline, then we have a problem."

"Such an individual or group may possess temporal shielding of their own," Tuvok steepled his fingers, "necessitating we use our own temporal shields to prevent them from affecting us. However, should they fail to achieve their desired results, they may be able to locate us if they are able to track changes to the timeline."

"What are you saying Tuvok?" Seven noted the harsh edge in Janeway's voice, which typically emerged when someone was about to suggest something she didn't like.

"Based on our analysis of the Krenim vessels and our technical records on Romulan and Klingon cloaking devices, I suggest we fabricate a cloaking device that generates a temporal shield within the cloak itself."

"That would violate the Treaty of Algeron." Lt. Kim's protest was weak and seemed to only exist because it was expected of him. "But it would help us sneak past the Krenim and maybe even whoever or whatever caused that change to the timeline."

"I suspect that the perpetrator has some connection to the Krenim," Tuvok added, "given their knowledge of temporal science. Therefore, any cloak specialized to work against Krenim sensors may be effective against them as well."

Captain Janeway just sat there with a sour expression on her face. Seven was unsure what choice she would make; Janeway's decisions often veered between logical and irrational. That was mostly due to her insistence on following Federation principles, even in situations where ignoring them would be to her crew's benefit.

"This raises another point," Chakotay interjected. "If we're going to take Arrow of Time with us, we'll need a cloak for it too. The ship's been missing so long that it's reappearance will definitely cause suspicion."

If anything, Janeway's expression became even more sour.

"Having a second vessel accompany us through the interphase would be beneficial," was Tuvok's response to Janeway's silent protest. "Should we encounter Krenim patrols or other hostile forces, having two ships would give us a tactical advantage, as well as reinforcements and aid, should we be in distress."

"I'm willing to consider both ideas," Janeway finally said, "but when it comes to cloaking devices, they're only for our escape from Krenim space. Once we're clear, they will be destroyed. Is that understood?"

"Understood." Chakotay and Tuvok replied practically simultaneously, making Seven wonder if they had planned this ahead of time. If so, it was a highly effective strategy; Janeway was more likely to support any plan Tuvok approved of, due to his relationship with the captain. Indeed, Seven approved of using the Arrow of Time to support Voyager, for precisely the reason Tuvok mentioned.

Janeway's expression didn't soften a bit. "From what I understand, we need to recruit new personnel in order to fill gaps in the duty rosters."

Seven noted Janeway's apprehension and the fact that it was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, we would need to bring new people aboard both ships to help maintain performance," Chakotay admitted. "As it happens, we're practically on top of a station full of potential recruits. I'm sure we can find enough people looking for a fresh start to fill all the gaps."

"How many people are we talking about here?" Lt. Kim asked. "Voyager is pretty close to full capacity right now, and if we ever lost Arrow of Time, things could get pretty crowded."

"The Intrepid class is designed to support crews of up to 160, Lieutenant." Tuvok looked over at Janeway. "With our current crew complement of 138, we could easily accommodate 22 new personnel without major alterations to the crew quarters."

"Alright, so we can do it," Lt. Torres interjected. "How do we pick just 22 people out of thousands? Even if we just limit it to people who have the skills we need, there's probably hundreds of them."

"We've got to prioritize," Commander Chakotay admitted. "For one, we probably need to get a doctor and two medics before anything else."

"Only one doctor?" The EMH asked, deadpanning every word. "I suppose I have proven myself to be irreplaceable."

Smiles spread across the faces of most of the officers, and Seven noted the Doctor's use of humor to defuse the tensions in the room.

It appears that the crew's behavior is returning to its baseline state. Before Voyager first encountered the Krenim, the crew was far more relaxed and easygoing. But a month of near constant battle and the following months of laboring to repair Voyager and help the survivors of the Reaper War had stressed the entire crew. Only now, when Voyager was practically fully repaired, did the crew seem to have shed many of their burdens.

"Don't worry Doctor, you won't have to retire just yet." The corners of Janeway's mouth dropped. "But the details of our recruitment drive can wait for now. We still have to figure out what to do with the Imperium's Hammer."

Seven mentally braced herself for the long, arduous task of convincing Captain Janeway to do what was logical.

Halid'Nevo's ready room aboard his battered old ex-Turian Hierarchy cruiser was a cramped space, barely capable of holding four people. Originally, it had been twice the size, but the Quarians had been quick to reconfigure the room. What was once part of the ready room was now a storage area, freeing up a tiny bit of space in the crew areas from the onerous duty of holding non-perishable supplies.

For his part, Halid'Nevo thought it was a cozy little room, whose only real flaw was the lack of room to hang mementos as decoration… That and the fact that when Geth were in the room, it left them far too close for comfort.

He knew they were his allies now and probably weren't going to turn on the Quarians and other organics in the galaxy, but centuries of Quarians thought the Geth (and Council) had it out for them. It wasn't easy to set that history aside.

Then again, with Captain Janeway here, the random Geth he was staring at seemed far less threatening. Maybe it was the fact that if anything went wrong, she could have him beamed out along with her. Maybe it was the fact that since her crew arrived, there was a renewed sense of purpose that allowed them to keep overlooking the old animosities.

So he felt comfortable leaning back in his chair and asking, "What can I do for you today, Captain Janeway?"

"You could say I have a proposition for you," Janeway replied. Halid silently cursed the faceplate he wore – her face was shifting, and in the ready room's adequate-but-not-great lighting, he wasn't sure what her expression was. "I was told that supplying Voyager with a large quantity of spare parts would require a not insignificant amount of the Geth's industrial capacity and payment that could make up for the inconvenience."

"Correct, Janeway-Captain," the Geth stated, pointing its flashlight-like head in her direction. "As repairs on the mass relay progress, less manufacturing machinery can be devoted to non-essential tasks."

"As it so happens, my crew has obtained something of value that could serve as payment," Janeway said, looking at the Geth, then Halid. "The Krenim cruiser Imperium's Hammer."

Halid chuckled. "Captain, we both know you barely have the people to crew two ships, never mind three, and Imperium's Hammer is already in the Geth drydock. Why should we agree to this deal, when we could just wait for you to leave and get the ship for free?"

Janeway smiled and Halid swore he saw sinister intent behind it. "You could, but then you'd run the risk that we'd delete most of the data in its computer core."

"That is illogical, Janeway-Captain." The Geth's face plates flanged in what Halid assumed was surprise. "Doing so would deprive us of a working vessel that could defend this universe should Voyager fail to collapse the interphase."

"True, but what other choice would I have?" Janeway leaned back in her chair. "After all, I have no guarantees that if the ship falls into the wrong hands, some other power in the galaxy could stop it. Setting aside the chroniton torpedoes, even the plasma cannons on that ship, while inferior to Voyager's phasers, could easily punch through kinetic barriers and destroy a fleet before they could wear down the shields of a Vindicator class starship."

Halid sighed. While he didn't think the ship would ever be taken from the combined forces of the Geth and Quarians, it could theoretically happen if/when they stopped at a port outside their space. Some of the Terminus warlords wouldn't bat an eye if they had to send thousands of mercs to their deaths to take a ship with that kind of firepower.

"Alright, alright, I get your point, Captain. What are you suggesting?"

"A simple exchange: Imperium's Hammer and all of Voyager's tactical data to date for the parts and a guarantee that the ship will be treated like the rest of the technology we have traded with you."

"We agree," the Geth said immediately.

Halid made a show of thinking about it. But in all honesty, it would insane to refuse. Keeping the ship and not sharing the technology would annihilate any goodwill both the Geth and Quarians had earned in the Reaper War. The Turians would probably declare war the moment the relay network was restored enough to connect Hierarchy space and Perseus Veil to prevent a massive shift in the balance of power.

"The Quarians also agree. Do you want to send the parts list and schematics now or…?"

The ghost of a smile crossed Janeway's face. "Maybe tomorrow. My crew and I have a funeral to perform, and on our way back, we'll help with the repairs on the mass relay."

"On the way back? Where do you intend to go?"

Janeway's unhappiness was on full display now. "We're heading five light years out for the funeral. One of Starfleet's traditions is a burial in space, and I don't want Neelix's body to cause any problems for the people working on the relay."

"I see. I'll let everyone know."

Janeway nodded stiffly. "Thank you."

Tom Paris watched the photon torpedo casing with Neelix's body in it fly off into the void, but the anger and pain remained.

At the same time, his mind was mildly boggled by the fact that the entire crew of Voyager was aboard for the first time in months. The people working on Arrow of Time practically lived there now, and would for the foreseeable future, so this was the first time he'd seen them for more than a few minutes in months. Even his best friend, Harry Kim, had barely been able to sneak in an hour or two a day to help work on the Aeroshuttle.

As everyone filed out of the mess hall, he took some small measure of comfort in B'Elanna's grip on his hand. Four years ago, neither one would've predicted they'd be in a relationship, but here they were.

Tom's brain struggled to sort out the bizarre chain of events that led to where he was in his life, which was when he noticed B'Elanna was nudging his shoulder. He snapped out of his reverie, spotting Captain Janeway coming his way. His gut tightened as he imagined the blistering lecture she'd give him.

"B'Elanna, Tom." Janeway seemed completely worn out by the funeral; her shoulders sagged a bit more than usual, and her eyes were bloodshot. "Tom… if you have a moment, I'd like to talk to you… alone."

He looked at B'Elanna, managed to pull up the corners of his mouth a bit, nod, and give her a hopefully reassuring squeeze of her hand. But as she looked back at him on the way out of the room, he couldn't ignore the look of concern on her face.

"How are you doing, Tom?"

He thought about making a joke to break the ice, but he wasn't in the mood.

"I'm alright, I guess." He looked away, towards the windows. "You know… I've been on missions where people have gotten killed, but this time… it feels worse."

"That's because you were in command." Tom looked back at Janeway, who seemed more sympathetic than normal. " 'The officer in charge is ultimately responsible for anything and everything that happens under their watch.' The Academy drilled it into you."

Tom grimaced, but kept quiet, suspecting Janeway was on a roll here.

"But the truth… the one the Academy lecturers don't tell you… is that sometimes, it's not your fault." Tom blinked in surprise. He hadn't expected the captain to say that. "You can't know or foresee everything. You did the best with what you had, and that's all you can do."

Tom chuckled. "Well, if you're trying to make me feel better, Captain, it's… Well, I'm not sure it's working or not."

"Welcome to my world," Janeway replied, a half-smile crossing her face. "The only other piece of advice I have is to focus on the good you've done. It helps you keep things in perspective, especially when things get rough."

With that, Janeway turned and walked out of the mess hall, leaving Tom Paris alone with his thoughts.

"Alright, Voyager is here. Get all the workers clear of the mass relay."

"Roger. All units, return to your motherships." Quarian flight controllers passed the order down to Quarian and Geth workers dotting the surface of the rings that rotated around the core of the system's mass relay. Tiny dots sloughed off the massive structures and accelerated towards an assortment of Quarian and Geth vessels, eagerly seeking the protection of their hangars.

A gray speck flew past them, decelerating as it approached the hulking behemoth that was the mass relay. A blue beam nudged one half of the relay's inner ring until it touched the other, a delicate procedure done with such precision that it seemed simple, even mundane. The other ring was reassembled with equal ease, and when Voyager left, the swarm of dots emerged again and clustered around the cracks in the rings, eager to resume their work.

April 5, 2187

Captain's Log: Kathryn Janeway, USS Voyager NCC-74656

Subjective Stardate: 51518.94

It's been a week since Neelix's funeral and our trip to help fix the mass relay, which is now on the verge of being reactivated. Tom Paris is taking the Aeroshuttle, which he insists on calling the Delta Flyer, to the Haven to pick up the crew candidates we've selected from the refugees. Hopefully they'll all clear the one week probationary period with little to no trouble; I'd hate to extend our stay in this universe any longer than necessary.

Menalia Iallis couldn't help fidgeting while the airlock cycled. She was one of 21 near total strangers that elected to take their chances on the mysterious starship Voyager; the only reason they weren't total strangers because more than a few people had obvious relationships with each other. She spotted a few couples and a what looked to be a father, his son, and the son's Asari girlfriend, but most of the people were like her: alone and unsure of what to expect.

The airlock door slid open and out came a human with dark hair, an odd tattoo on his face, and a black jumpsuit with red shoulders, and a stern-faced brunette woman with an almost identical jumpsuit, just with yellow shoulders. The woman seemed to just be a guard, as the man with the face tattoo stepped forward. "I'm Commander Chakotay. If you'll follow me, we can get you over to Voyager and properly introduced to crew."

"What's the rush?" One of the many humans said – not the one with the son, but a guy who looked like he was an ex-merc or ex-soldier. Menalia had run into their kind a lot before, during, and after the war.

"Captain Janeway has agreed to help test the repaired relay." Chakotay didn't seem flustered by the question at all. "There's a strict schedule to keep, so we have to get you aboard as soon as possible."

Menalia didn't think that was the whole truth, but most of the people she was with seemed to accept it. Chakotay stepped aside, allowing them into the shuttle. It wasn't an organized line, more of a Brownian mass of people flowing into the airlock. She was one of the first ten or so people to get in, and hauled her gear (a duffel full of clothes and personal effects, a case with her personal hardsuit, and a backpack full of useful gadgets and gizmos) into the rear cabin. She dumped her stuff behind a chair at a small, four-person table and sat down.

She politely nodded at the Salarian and two humans joining her at the table, while other people lined the bulkheads of the rear cabin. Soon the trickle of people ceased and the shuttle detached from the station, giving them a rare view of Haven from the outside. Menalia couldn't remember when she last saw the station's exterior, just that it was months ago, when the ship she was on was discovered by Voyager's crew.

The five-minute flight didn't provide much room for idle chatter. Before they knew it, the shuttle was swinging around for its docking run. The most she saw was a blur of red, some gray, then a copper plate surrounded by some sort of blue glowing thing. Then came the clunk of docking clamps and some human male (not Chakotay) announcing they could board Voyager.

Getting off the shuttle was an ordeal, since the crowd of people had to flow through a bottleneck. Thankfully, they exited into what looked like a small cargo bay, where a decent number of people were already waiting. A most wore yellow shouldered jumpsuits and stood behind hover-carts of some kind, but Menalia paid more attention to the pair that Chakotay joined. One was a black human with odd pointed ears and yellow shoulders, while the other was a woman with red-brown hair and red shoulders.

Since she actually bothered to read the paltry information available to the Haven denizens, Menalia figured the woman had to be Captain Kathryn Janeway.

Once everyone filed off the shuttle, except for the guard and the pilot, the woman stepped forward and addressed them. "Welcome aboard Voyager. I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway."

Would you look at that. I figured that out all on my own, Menalia thought with heavy sarcasm.

Janeway gestured towards Chakotay.

"You've all met Commander Chakotay, my first officer." She then gestured to the man in yellow. "This is Lieutenant Commander Tuvok, my chief of security. They'll be assessing your performance during this… trial period."

Great, Menalia thought, I wonder what these two are thinking.

Chakotay stepped forward, activating his omni-tool.

"You'll be assigned guest quarters for the duration of the 'trial period,' complete with a replicator that can make food and clothes and sonic showers. If you manage to make the cut, you'll be assigned permanent quarters." He tapped a button, causing Menalia's own omni-tool to beep. "I've sent you your training schedules and basic Starfleet procedures you need to know. If you need anything else, feel free to ask me or Commander Tuvok."

One of the yellow shouldered crewmen handed Tuvok a box before he too stepped forward. He pulled an arrow shaped badge with a rectangle sticking out the sides; Menalia suddenly realized that all the people on Voyager wore them.

"This is a combadge. Since you do not possess security clearance to access the ship's internal network, this will allow you to communicate with anyone on the ship. It also performs biometric tracking in case of medical emergencies." Tuvok put the combadge back in the box, then walked down to one end of the group. "You must wear these whenever you are awake, in case of emergencies."

The four Turians in the group were the only ones that didn't grumble at that.

"These officers will guide you to your quarters," Tuvok continued, as the box made its way through the group. "When called, place your belongings on the indicated anti-grav sled."

"And one last thing," Janeway interjected. "There'll be a meet-and-greet in the mess hall, on deck two, in an hour. That should give you all time to settle in before you meet the rest of the crew."

With that, Janeway and Chakotay exited the room, while Tuvok started rattling off names and pointing at anti-grav sleds. Menalia only had to wait for seven other people to be called, then she got to dump her stuff on a sled; a welcome relief, given the weight of her hardsuit case. A redheaded human woman led her and another Asari, who looked like she was in the middle of her matron years, through Voyager's monotonous looking corridors.

"So… uh, what's your name?" Menalia hated the amount of uncertainty in her voice, but randomly getting to know people wasn't one of her strengths. Meeting at a bar or for the job, fine. Making small talk? She was goddess-awful at it. One of the disadvantages of growing up with only a Turian dad who was pretty laconic, even on the job.

While the other Asari just rolled her eyes, the human looked back at Menalia and smiled. "I'm Lyndsay. Lyndsay Ballard. And you are?"

"I'm Menalia, and this is…" She stopped, waiting for the other Asari to supply her name.

The older Asari sighed and rolled her eyes. "I'm Dr. Lorin Sederis."

Menalia's eyes widened. Could she be related to Jona Sederis, the founder of Eclipse?

Lorin seemed to read her mind… that, or got the question almost every day of her life. "No, I am not related to Jona Sederis."

"Okay…" Lyndsay replied, raising an eyebrow, then slowing down as they approached a set of doors ending the corridor. "Right. The three of us and this thing won't fit in the turbolift at the same time, so I'm going to go ahead and take this to deck 8. The lift might take a while to get back here, since there's a lot of traffic, so just remember that I'm on deck 8, okay?"

"Okay?" Menalia didn't bother to hide her confusion. "Wouldn't it be easier to use a cargo elevator?"

The human woman's face split into a grin. "Well, we've got something that's even easier to use, but the captain won't let us show it off in front of you guys."

With that, she pushed the sled into the turbolift and a chilly silence fell between the two Asari.

And even when they met up with Lyndsay in the oddly crowded corridor on deck 8, neither Asari had actually said a word directly to each other.

"So, what are you two going to be doing?" Lyndsay asked as they strolled down yet more corridor, picking up the conversation where it left off.

"I signed up for quartermaster/supply/salvage specialist stuff," Menalia replied. "My old man and I used to be in that business, then I inherited it when he passed away. Kept it up until the war ruined everything. Then I just had to do it to earn a spot on the refugee ship I was on."

"Supply and salvage? We might work together then." Lyndsay smiled at Menalia again. "That's an Engineering job, which is my department. Want some advice?"

"Sure."

"Don't get Lt. Torres angry, or if she does get angry, stay out of her way. She's got one hell of a temper."

"Does that happen a lot?" Menalia groaned. "I don't think I could survive a trip with a boss like that."

"She's mellowed out a lot over the last few years," Lyndsay admitted as they turned a corner. "Nowadays, it only happens when she's really stressed out."

"Great."

"How about you, Doc? Are you a medical doctor, or a science doctor?"

"Medical," Lorin ground out, her voice slightly less than icy. "Why do you ask?"

"Because it's nice to have a medical staff that's more than just the Doctor and a pilot who took biochemistry at the Academy," Lyndsay replied, grinning as they stopped at a door along a curving corridor. "Anyway, here are your guest quarters."

Menalia stepped inside and was astounded by how luxurious they seemed to be. Sure, there were only two windows, and there was a bed stuck in the middle of the living area, but it was a hell of a lot better than the barracks she'd been sleeping in for months.

"There's a bedroom and bathroom through that door," Lyndsay pointed to it. "There's only one bed there, so that's why we put one in here. You'll have to sort out who gets-"

"I'll take the bedroom," Lorin cut-in as she scooped up everything that belonged to her off the anti-grav sled.

Lyndsay looked helplessly at Menalia, who just sighed, shrugged, and put her luggage by the bed. "I guess I sleep out here."

"Alright…" The human turned to leave, then paused. "We'll be going to warp in a few minutes, so you'll be getting a great light show. And remember, the meet-and-greet is in about an hour."

And with that, Lyndsay Ballard left Menalia to deal with Lorin Sederis… alone.

Thankfully, it didn't require much work. Lorin went into the bedroom to unpack, while Menalia quickly completed her less intensive unpacking, primarily because there wasn't anywhere to put her stuff. When Menalia was done, a slight shift in the ship's hums and vibrations led her to ask Lorin to come back out to the living area.

"What is it? Don't tell me you actually believe this 'warp' nonsense isn't just a regular mass effect drive." Lorin managed to sound exactly like Menalia's idea of a scolding mother would, which was ironic, since her mother abandoned her and her father a few years after she was born.

"Goddess, I know there's skepticism, and there's being a bitch," Menalia shot back. "You can't just assume that everything is exactly like what we're used to and – what the hell is going on?!"

The stars outside began stretching, before a sudden flash, and the stars outside were joined by vibrant streaks of light.

"Well, would you look at that. It's not a mass effect ship after all."

I haven't seen the crew this cheerful in months, Kathryn Janeway thought as she mingled among the people in the meet-and-greet. A decent amount of that was the novelty of prolonged interaction with some of this universe's other residents. After months of working with Geth and Quarians, it was an interesting change of pace.

The newcomers all stood out, to varying degrees. The humans fit in the most, obviously; aside from their civilian clothing, they blended into the crowd well. The three Salarians, all male, stood around chatting people to death. The only one that didn't look overwhelmed was Seven, but Janeway assumed that the one talking to her was some sort of scientist. The five Asari were pretty popular, but she noticed one of the new humans, who looked like a teenager, hanging close to one of them.

The four Turians were most interesting. There were two couples, and for some reason, they insisted on staying as far away from each other as possible. She intended to investigate that, and when one of the couples came over to her, she took full advantage of that opportunity.

"I must say, Captain, I appreciate the hospitality you've shown us." The male Turian, Lantak Byzanthus, took a bite out of a doughnut, one of the few levo amino acid foods Turians could safely eat. "Joining an existing unit can be a… tense situation at times."

Janeway smiled, taking a bite out of some hors d'oeuvres before she replied. "Well, Starfleet does its best to be welcoming to everyone. Diplomacy is one of strong suites, after all."

"Speaking of that…" Lantak's wife, Adulas, shifted uncomfortably. "We were looking over the Starfleet procedures Commander Chakotay provided us, and… We were a bit confused about what Starfleet's actual role is."

"Starfleet is the exploratory and defensive arm of Starfleet." Janeway smiled. "It's a bit more flexible than a pure military would be, due to the kinds of missions we undertake. Multi-year missions are quite common for ships this size."

"That would explain why Starfleet seems so… lax… in certain areas." Adulas glanced at her husband. "It would be hard to maintain perfect discipline when you're so far from the chain of command and the personnel bureau."

"And why Starfleet's security personnel seem so underarmed," Lantak said thoughtfully. "Still, with your level of technology, you should be able to create non-threatening light armor for your personnel."

Janeway sighed. "Perhaps you have a point. It certainly would've helped in a few cases."

Lantak looked like he was about to say something, but instead turned when something else caught his attention.

"Ah, I see they brought out some kulvac chips." The Turian caught Janeway's look of total incomprehension. "They're the Turian equivalent of your tortilla chips. If you don't mind, ma'am, we'll take our leave for now."

"I completely understand. It was a pleasure speaking with bout of you," Janeway said with a sincere smile.

"Likewise, Captain."

As the Turian couple made their way through the rest of the crowd, Janeway sensed Tuvok approaching her.

"I am considering making Mr. Byzanthus acting chief of security and tactical officer." Tuvok's statement knocked Janeway for loop. Tuvok wasn't known for going out on a limb or making jokes. To say something this serious to her meant he'd given this a lot of thought already.

"I would like to know the reasoning behind this." Janeway gave Tuvok her sternest look. "You already have a staff. Why not promote one of them to the post?"

"Mr. Byzanthus was an officer in the Turian military," Tuvok explained. "He served as a Havoc trooper for over 60 years, until the end of the Reaper War. The sheer sum of his combat experience makes him the logical replacement; only his wife, a Saboteur, has nearly as much experience."

Janeway frowned, taking in the argument. "That may be true, but he's a soldier, not a starship officer. Can he handle tactical?"

Tuvok himself came close to frowning. "That remains to be seen. I intend to personally train him in starship combat tactics. Based on my observations of him and his record, I believe he can accomplish the task."

"Alright, Tuvok, I'll leave it in your hands." Janeway paused. "Do you know why the two groups of Turians don't seem to like each other? I was hoping to get an answer out of the Byzanthuses, but I didn't get an opportunity to ask the question."

"The Byzanthuses were part of the effort to retake the planet Taetrus after separatist forces attempted to secede from the Turian hierarchy." Tuvok's gaze rested on the other pair of Turians. "I suspect Mr. Bauduin and Ms. Nazario were either members of Facinus or at least sympathizers to the cause."

"Do you think there'll be any problems?"

"That is hard to determine," Tuvok admitted. "Since their duties only cause minimal interaction, their history be utterly irrelevant in the long term. Still, should both couples succeeding in their training, Commander Chakotay and I have decided to retain the Byzanthuses on Voyager, while posting Mr. Bauduin and Ms. Nazario on the Arrow of Time."

Janeway nodded. "Good work, Tuvok. If there are any problems between them, let me know immediately. I don't want to give them time to fester."

Sokkik Gurji stepped into Voyager's Astrometrics lab a few minutes before the first Geth ship approached the newly repaired mass relay. Both Seven of Nine and a human male with a yellow-shouldered uniform turned towards him; the Salarian astrophysicist didn't recognize the man, so he hadn't been at the crew 'meet-and-greet' earlier.

Seven spoke before the human could. "I invited Dr. Gurji to observe the tests. I also informed Captain Janeway, who approved his presence at this time."

The human just sighed in annoyance and turned back to his console as Sokkik approached Seven.

"Mr. Herran is a skilled cosmologist," Seven explained. "He is here to help monitor the tests."

Sokkik nodded. "Knowledge and expertise does make up for deficiencies in other areas."

He was well aware that Seven was equally lacking in social niceties, but felt it was rude to point that out now. He filed away the information about Herran for later; he would have ample time to interact with the cosmologist once he was a permanent crew member. For now, he just wanted evidence that would confirm his suspicions.

Sokkik let his STG training take over as he maintained a conversation with Seven and surreptitiously observed as much as possible. He was astounded by the sheer sophistication of their sensor arrays. Not only could they detect things hundreds of light years away, but they could record an astounding assortment of data. He didn't recognize a great deal of the things they were monitoring, which was exciting.

Then again, wasn't that part of why he was here? To see what he could learn without having to deal with the STG's incompetence and meddling?

April 12, 2187

Captain's Log: Kathryn Janeway, USS Voyager NCC-74656

Subjective Stardate: 51538.07

Miraculously, nothing has gone wrong with the repaired mass relay or the new crewmembers. Even the son of Michael Martinez, the Doctor's new nurse and gene therapy expert, has managed to find a role for himself as the new cook. There's still plenty of rough edges, but everything is good enough for us to consider making our way back to our home universe. Hopefully Seven's gravimetric mines will collapse the interphase with minimal damage to the Dholen system. The refugees in Dholen deserve as much peace as they can get.

Captain Kathyrn Janeway settled into the captain's chair, fully prepared to face the journey ahead.

Every station was running at full efficiency. Tom Paris was at the helm, as usual. Lt. Commander Tuvok, still wearing security yellow, sat next to her as acting executive officer. Lantak Byzanthus, promoted to Lieutenant after besting the most experienced of Tuvok's officers left on Voyager in a series of holodeck trials, manned the security and tactical station. Ensign Mannus ran Ops, now that Harry Kim was acting XO on the Arrow of Time. The Doctor had whipped up enough diluted theragen derivative, in both levo and dextro safe versions, to protect both crews for the duration of their journey through the interphase.

Everything was in place. All she had to do was give the order, and both ships would head into the interphase.

"Mr. Mannus, open a channel to Arrow of Time and Halid'Nevo."

"Channel open," the dark skinned ensign replied, putting images of the Quarian captain and Chakotay on the viewscreen.

"Captain Halid'Nevo, it has been a pleasure working with you and the Geth these past few months. I hope that we'll be able to meet again in the future." Janeway gave the Quarian a sad smile. "If we can't, I just want to say that we've appreciated your hospitality and wish you and the rest of the people in this galaxy the best, as you rebuild the relay network."

Halid'Nevo nodded, his eyes shining brightly behind his face plate. "And we appreciate everything you've done to help us in our time of need. I hope you complete your journey home in the near future—we Quarians know what it's like to be kept away for far too long."

"Thank you, Captain. Best of luck to you, and everyone in your care. Voyager out." Halid'Nevo's image disappeared, allowing Chakotay's to dominate the viewscreen. "Well, Commander, it's time to get back to getting home. Set course for the interphase, full impulse."

"Aye, Captain," Chakotay replied. "I think we've had enough of a vacation."

Janeway smiled a bit at that. "Yes, we have. Keep within 100,000 kilometers once we enter the interphase."

"Understood. Chakotay out."

The viewscreen returned to its default image of empty space, giving Janeway a moment to gather herself before giving the order. "Full impulse, Mr. Paris."

For Raul Martinez, the day was like any other, at least until the ship entered the pitch black void. And even then, things went on normally for the first few hours. People came into the mess hall, looking for a decent meal after getting off duty or before going on duty, or just a cup of coffee or hot chocolate (his beverage of choice).

He was in the middle of making some fusion cuisine; in this case, mixing Asari and Salarian ingredients into a paella. Then Blue Alert kicked in, and since there wasn't a planet anywhere nearby, that meant the ship was cloaked. He switched the power for his burner to an independent battery, knowing power to the mess hall would be diverted to more important areas, and prayed that his food would finish cooking before it ran out of power.

That, and that they'd stay alive long enough for people to actually eat it…

Chakotay stared at the small holographic Captain Janeway on the desk in his barebones ready room. Krenim décor was absurdly sparse, and the fact that their ships were slightly less efficient than Voyager meant that sparseness was a justification for smaller crew areas.

Of course, the machinery and weapons areas were given plenty of room, but given the Krenim's inclinations, that was no surprise.

"I take it we're cloaked for a reason," Chakotay stated to the Janeway hologram in front of him. It was a projection tied to a Quantum Entanglement Communicator, which Seven asserted wouldn't have any adverse effects on the interphase while they were in it.

"We've picked up what might be a large vessel outside the interphase," Janeway said, frowning a bit. "Admittedly, Seven can't clean up the sensor data much more, but we both know there weren't any permanent structures near the interphase in our reality."

"The Krenim could've set up an outpost to study the interphase," he pointed out. "We've been on the other side for months, and they've certainly had the incentive to figure out the interphase in our absence."

"True…" Janeway ran a hand through her hair. "But what I'm really worried about is the possibility that the ship is responsible for the changes in the timeline. If it is…"

"It's in our way, and we might not be able to sneak around it."

Janeway shook her head. "No, something worse than that. They might pick up our gravimetric mines and move in to investigate, and either destroy the mines before they detonate… or proceed to the other side."

Obrist stifled a sigh as yet another scan of the spatial anomaly returned an entirely different result. As if a purgatorial existence of trying and failing to undo a mistake wasn't bad enough, they'd spent the past few months trying to analyze a spatial anomaly that had ruined their planned incursion. Instead of potentially improving the Krenim Imperium (which Obrist found unlikely), they reduced it to a joke of a power.

Now they were trapped here, unable to move on until Annorax had enough data to accurately calculate an incursion to eliminate it or calculate its effects on future incursions.

The only upside was that they weren't wiping out civilizations in Annorax's futile quest to restore his wife to life.

Of course, Obrist had a secret: he knew that the anomaly was harmful to Krenim. If he could somehow convince Annorax to fly into it and sabotage the ship, their suffering could finally come to an end…

"Ayala, is there any sign that ship out there has picked up the mines?" Chakotay felt an unfamiliar wave of anxiety wash over him. Then again, he'd never been in this kind of situation, dealing with the vagaries of doing anything in an interphase.

"Not so far, sir." Ayala looked frustrated, which Chakotay could sympathize with. Krenim sensors left a bit to be desired, and there hadn't been the time or materials to upgrade them. So his readings were hardly the most reliable to begin with, never mind after diving into the heart of an interphase.

Harry Kim turned to Chakotay and shrugged. "All we can do is wait and see, Captain. Even if we were still on Voyager, the interphase would distort the sensor readings and we'd be in the same boat."

"Fantastic." Chakotay sighed and shook his head in exhaustion. "Let's just hope things stay the same, at least until we get out of here."

"I've detected some kind of matter inside of the anomaly," Obrist said, keeping as much emotion out of his voice as possible. "Our sensors cannot determine what it is — the anomaly's distortions make it impossible at this range."

Annorax frowned and rubbed one hand over the other, mulling it over. "Is there any way to improve the readings without entering the anomaly?"

"None." Obrist hid a smile, knowing that going in would lead to their destruction. He planned to shut down the temporal core and lock out the controls, hopefully long enough for the ship's crew to kill each other and end their suffering.

Annorax sighed and stared at the viewscreen for a while, then came to a decision. "Take us in."

"Captain, sensors indicate the vessel might be entering the interphase."

Janeway frowned at Byzanthus' use of the word might but said nothing. There was no use in trying to coax more information out of the Turian. He was working with sensors that gave him distorted readings, and no amount of complaining or remodulating could fix that. Only escaping the interphase could do that.

"What's the chance they detected the gravimetric mines?" That was the only change in their situation in hours, and therefore the only reason the ship would enter the interphase.

"Uncertain, Captain." The Turian looked frustrated at his inability to report anything with any precision or certainty. "But it is the only reasonable explanation, since they didn't pick us up before we cloaked."

Janeway mulled that over. "What would happen if they destroyed the mines?"

"The gravimetric warheads are primed to detonate upon receiving a detonation command from Voyager," Tuvok reiterated for Janeway's benefit. "If the mines are destroyed by weapon's fire, the warheads will not detonate and the interphase will remain."

"And the Krenim or Borg could go to the other side," Janeway muttered. "Can we set the mines to detonate if they detect weapons fire coming towards them?"

"That is possible," Tuvok admitted. "However, given the reduction in sensor performance, it is entirely possible that the mines may not detect weapons fire until it is too late. And there is another concern – with our sensors impaired, we may not be able to escape the interphase before the mines detonate."

Janeway mulled it over. "So we need to keep them from getting too close to the mines, but… what if we let them get just close enough?"

Annorax dodged another punch from one of his crew, yet another person who'd succumbed to the madness. He didn't understand why the crew was killing each other, nor why the temporal shields were offline. All he knew was that Time was mocking him – after all the failed incursions, all the genocide to correct that one horrible mistake, some random spatial anomaly that prevented him from proceeding would end his life and the life of his crew.

Of course, after fighting Time itself for centuries, he was not going to let something as trivial as an insane crew stop him.

Annorax rolled towards a hidden panel in one of the bulkhead and elbowed it, revealing a hidden plasma pistol. He swiped the pistol out of its hiding spot and pushed himself to his feet, keeping a death grip on the weapon. Before he knew it, someone tackled him from behind and slammed him into a console, but the pistol remained in his hand. All he had to do was turn around…

His assailant spun him around, and it took Annorax a moment to fully process who it was. Obrist was practically unrecognizable; Annorax had never seen the man so enraged and the blood running down his face gave him an almost demonic appearance. He wrapped his hands around Annorax's throat and began to squeeze.

As the edges of Annorax's vision began to turn gray, then black, he heard his second-in-command manically babbling to himself.

"This is all your fault… should have done this a century ago… why did we have to lose everything… you'll never see Kyana Prime again…"

That last comment broke through the ever encompassing darkness. With a Herculean effort, Annorax jammed the pistol into Obrist's rib cage and fired.

As his vision cleared, he could see the man's body on the deck, thick smoke rising from a massive crater in the side of his chest. Annorax slumped down to the floor to catch his breath and avoid the wrath of the rest of his crew for a moment. And even then, he only had a few seconds respite before having to kill the two surviving members of the bridge crew.

Once again, he pushed himself to his feet, stumbling towards various consoles, tapping a button here or there to seal the bridge and reroute commands. Then he took the helm for the first time, maneuvering the massive vessel slowly, pointing it towards the safety of normal space.

And then the ship shuddered as an explosion racked its innards.

"Confirmed photon grenade detonation! The ship's warp drive is offline, and there's massive damage to its power transfer systems." Lantak Byzanthus rattled off the enemy's wounds with great satisfaction, and Janeway couldn't blame him. Once he learned the hazards of high energy discharges inside an interphase, he quickly determined that the best way to attack the apparently unshielded vessel was to beam a bomb into it. Even with the sensor distortion, they could detect where the highest energy flows were, giving them a target for their weapon.

Of course, it also helped that picking up lifesigns consistent with Krenim added an incentive to be as merciless and pragmatic as possible.

"Excellent work, Mr. Byzanthus. Keep track of its position and speed – if it gets too close to escaping, we might have to beam over another one." Janeway considered the Krenim ship's position relative to Voyager and Arrow of Time. It was only 10,000 kilometers behind them, but that was the longest range the transporter could do in the interphase. "Tom, do everything you can to open the distance between us. Just make sure Arrow of Time can keep up. Tuvok, set a command detonation for the mines to go off as soon as we jump to warp."

As the crew acknowledged her orders, all she could think was that they just needed to buy a little more time…

Annorax cursed as the temporal weapon ship struggled to maintain full impulse. He was no expert in damage control or engineering, just a temporal scientist, so he was performing admirably under the circumstances. But that would not be enough to save himself or what was left of his crew.

Naturally, his mind wandered occasionally, trying to unravel the cause of his ship's problems. It was possible that some of his crew had done something devastating to the engines. But could there be some other ship out there, some force that also wanted them dead?

Chakotay cursed as the gap between Voyager, Arrow of Time, and the Krenim mystery vessel shrank. It wasn't because of any special maneuvering on the Krenim's part. Instead, Arrow of Time was the weak link. Her impulse engines weren't designed for the strenuous maneuvers Tom Paris could easily do with Voyager.

"Carey, status report!" Harry Kim's voice had become clipped and strained as the pressure increased, but Chakotay couldn't blame him. The margin between getting home and getting trapped in a spatial anomaly was pretty thin.

"Sorry sir, but we can't push the impulse engines any harder!" Joe Carey, now the ship's chief engineer, was doing the best he could with technology he didn't fully understand, even with months of examination. "Right now, doing anything but going in a straight line could overheat them and trigger an automatic shutdown!"

Chakotay cursed under his breath and began silently reciting a prayer to his ancestors…

In the end, the Krenim ship never got close enough for Voyager to beam another photon grenade aboard. Annorax's efforts never managed to get his ship moving fast enough to be an issue, while the Arrow of Time's impulse engines were able to handle the stress of flying in a straight line. For once, time was on the side of Captain Janeway and her crew.

But by a quirk of fate, Annorax's ship managed to get halfway out of the interphase, just as Voyager and Arrow of Time went to warp. When the gravimetric mines detonated, the collapsing interphase tore the ship apart. A power surge coursed through the ship's temporal core right as it exploded, and one last, massive temporal shockwave emerged…

And hit the fleeing Voyager and Arrow of Time.

Captain's Log: Kathryn Janeway, USS Voyager NCC-74656

Subjective Stardate: 51541.84

We've completed repairs to our cloaking devices, which were severely strained by the temporal shockwave. I'm eager to continue on our journey, but first, we need to get a grasp on the effects of the temporal shockwave before we leave the nebula we're hiding in. It's entirely possible that we may have indirectly caused genocide or other negative effects on this part of the quadrant, not to mention making the Krenim a stronger, more hostile force.

Captain Janeway and Commander Chakotay stood side-by-side in Astrometrics and stared at a map of the area, with numerous colored blobs that represented the political faction in the area.

"This is a chart of the region based on Borg information from before the timeline changes we are aware of," Seven explained, before tapping a few buttons on the console in front of her. "This is the same chart, updated with information obtained since our return."

The blobs changed shape, some flattening or contracting, others expanding, and several new blobs appeared. Janeway sucked in a breath, shocked by the implications of what she saw.

"Seven… are you saying that new species have come into existence because of that temporal shockwave?" Chakotay spoke, not to state the obvious, but to try to wrap his mind around the situation.

"I am not sure these species are new," Seven admitted, turning to face them. "They may have been erased by time travel events caused by the Krenim vessel we encountered in the interphase."

Janeway mulled that over. "So when the ship was destroyed, that undid the changes it caused, because it never existed?"

"A simplistic explanation, but essentially correct," Seven said. "However, Voyager and Arrow of Time's temporal shielded cloaks did result in a major alteration in the timeline."

Janeway's throat felt dry as a desert as she croaked out "What?"

"Based on my analysis of Krenim communications traffic, the Krenim have not developed temporal manipulation technology in this timeline."

"How do you figure that?" Chakotay frowned. "I don't think there'd be any way to determine that without scanning one of their warships."

Seven cast what Janeway swore was a condescending look at Chakotay. "Several of the communiques I intercepted were of an academic nature and regarded the recent artificial generation of chronitons. These particles only existed for a nanosecond; if Krenim temporal science and technology were more advanced, this would be an insignificant achievement."

"Well, it's not the result I expected, but I'll take it," Janeway said sincerely. As far as she was concerned, the Krenim not having temporal technology was a net benefit to the galaxy, and her crew in particular. Then she frowned. "What about the other universe? Were they affected by the temporal shockwave?"

"No," Seven said firmly. "The interphase imploded before the temporal shockwave began."

Janeway and Chakotay sighed in relief.

"So what's the political situation? Do you think we'll be able to negotiate passage through Krenim space?"

Seven hesitated. "Based on the current information, it may be better if we proceed through Krenim space under cloak. They are in a cold war with a race called the Rilnar and our unexplained appearance in their space may cause them to become hostile to us."

Chakotay nodded and glanced at Janeway. "We'd certainly look suspicious, especially since we exited the interphase under cloak. If we hadn't, maybe the timeline could've changed so we were granted permission to cross their territory."

"I'm not going to play the what-if game when time travel's involved," Janeway said with a small smile. "We'll go with the original plan – we've got to make up for lost time, after all."

For an instant, a tiny bit of blue-green nebula rippled around the invisible Voyager and Arrow of Time as they flew out, eager to continue the long journey to Earth.