The small ship darted through an asteroid field desperately trying to put enough distance between itself and its two much larger pursuers.  Only a few thousand kilometers and the very sensor interference that made the Badlands so treacherous would make them a safe haven for the little ship and its crew.  Despite its greater maneuverability and experience in the Badlands, the little ship was unable to pull away and escape.  As the three ships exited the asteroid field, the two larger ships separated, one staying on the little ship’s tail and the other moving to clearer space and trying to move ahead of the little ship.

On the bridge of the smaller ship, its captain was fast running out of tricks.  Even on a good day in perfect repair, the little ship was no match for even one of the Cardassian scout ships.  But this was not a good day.  The Élan was old and badly damaged.  They were only capable of half-impulse at the moment, not even fast enough to make navigation much of a challenge to its experienced Maquis navigators.  The phasers were still functioning but problems with the warp core had lowered their efficiency to 78%.  Shields were barely holding and threatening to collapse completely.  The primary deflector was gone and even the navigational deflector was near failure.  Chakotay smiled at the irony -- if the navigational deflector went off line, he would have a choice in how to get his ship shot through with holes -- by the Cardassians or by nature.  He decided that, if it came to a choice, he would let nature have the honor.

“B’Elanna!  What’s the status of the warp core and impulse engines?”

B’Elanna’s voice came over the intercom, “We’re working on them.  You should have three-quarters impulse in a few minutes, but it’ll be at least a half hour before I can get more power to the weapons and shields.  And the more times you ask, the longer it will take.  Now just leave us alone so we can get some work done!”

If they got out of this, Chakotay knew he would have to decide whether to talk to B’Elanna about her attitude.  He knew B’Elanna would never challenge his authority, but her attitude could be contagious and lead to others of the crew doing so.  On the other hand, if they got out of this, he would probably hug her with relief.  This was as bad a situation he had been in during his years in the Maquis.  He surveyed the rest of his bridge crew.  Tuvok, the 'new kid on the block,' had only been on his ship for a few months.  Typically Vulcan, he maintained an icy calm that actually helped Chakotay maintain his own control during crises.  Of course, Chakotay would never admit this to Tuvok.  Seska sat at the helm deftly getting as much out of the speed they did have and using their greater maneuverability to maximum advantage.  That was another problem for Chakotay to handle if they got out of this.  He had ended their affair several months ago, but she just would not accept that it was over.  She had enjoyed being the “Captain’s woman” as she called it.  He had ended the affair when he had realized that this was the literal truth; she was in the captain’s bed, not Chakotay’s.  A pleasant diversion had turned into a knee to his ego.  He paused in his survey of the bridge.

“Seska, set course for the center of the Badlands.  If we can’t lose them, we can at least take them with us.”

“Aye, sir.”

A few minutes later, Tuvok reported that a coherent tetryon beam was approaching off their starboard bow.  Tuvok’s analysis of the beam indicated that if it hit the Élan, it would cause severe damage.   *Now what?* thought Chakotay as he ordered their course reversed, right back in the face of the first Cardassian scout.  Seska deftly reversed course, throwing more than one of the crew to the deck as the inertial dampeners strained to keep up with the maneuver.  Seska, never one to do a little when she could do a lot, headed straight for the Cardassian scout.  The scout did not expect the little Maquis ship to reverse course, much less head straight toward them.  The scout swerved around the Élan and shot past it at full impulse.   Distracted by the Maquis ship, the bridge crew of the scout ignored the tetryon beam a moment too long.  The displacement wave following the tetryon beam rocked the first scout violently before that scout and the beam simply vanished leaving no debris and no warp trail.

Chakotay sighed in relief.  One down, one to go.  “Where’s that second scout?”  Right now he didn’t care what had happened to that scout ship.  He had more immediate problems.

“Approaching off our port bow, captain” reported Tuvok.  “Unfortunately we seem to have headed directly into their path when we swerved around the first scout.”  The remaining scout was in weapons range and sent a volley of phaser fire toward the Élan.  In a matter of seconds, weapons, impulse engines and main power were off line.  Chakotay knew the next shot would undoubtedly either breach their hull or trigger a warp core explosion.  No one was more surprised when the next shot took out life support and all their sensors, but no more.  Chakotay tried to initiate the self-destruct, but the computer was down along with the other ship’s systems.  Their only functioning system was external communications, and he suddenly realized that it was being used.  The Cardassian scout was hailing them.

“On screen.”

“Can’t, sir.  We’re only receiving audio.”

“On audio, then.”

“Greetings, captain,” came the voice of the scout’s captain. “Or should I say, former captain.  You barely have a ship left to commend.  My name is Evek, but you may call me Gul Evek.  I hope we didn’t do too much damage to your little ship.  I would hate to see the hull breach before everyone had a time to suffer a little from lack of heat, food and water for a few weeks.  I know your internal sensors are not functioning so I’ll tell you what our sensors show about your ship’s status.  Basically, you are beyond repair unless you can make it to a fully equipped base, like a Starfleet base.  But you can’t, so you won’t.”

B’Elanna had charged onto the bridge during this little speech.  Chakotay looked at her, a question in his eyes.  She looked back, reluctant to admit the truth but unwilling to lie to her captain, and nodded confirmation of the gul’s summary.

“So, Evek, just exactly what do you want?  You certainly didn’t go to all this trouble just to be snide.”

“Ah!  So impatient even when at a disadvantage! But you’re right.  While my orders about the complete destruction of your ship are open to interpretation, they do require that I bring at least one Maquis leader back to interview for information to protect Cardassian citizens and property.   My orders also require me to retrieve something of ours, and mine, that you have on your ship.  Seska, my dear, I’ve come to take you home.  You are finally being rewarded for the sacrifices you have made over the years working for the Obsidian Order.”

“It’s about time, Evek!  Where have you been?  I sent the recall request six weeks ago!  There had better be a good reason why I’ve had to wait this long.  You know this ship was being targeted by the Federation and could have been taken at any time.  Now get me off this bridge and back where I belong!”  Seska’s tirade and obvious familiarity with the Cardassians left Chakotay and the rest of the Maquis speechless.  But Evek just chuckled.

“As you wish, my dear.  Prepare to transport.”  Chakotay was expecting to see Seska disappear, but was unprepared when he felt the effects of the Cardassian transporter.  Definitely not a good day!

Tuvok looked around the bridge of the Maquis ship.  “B’Elanna,  are the ship’s systems as badly damaged as the Gul reported?”

“Worse.  What are we going to do?  We can’t just let them take Chakotay like that!  We’ve got to stop them.”  B’Elanna raged against the actions of the Cardassians.  She was powerless to stop them or even know if they were still in the vicinity.  Acceptance of things beyond her control was not among her strengths.  She was still in shock at learning that Seska was apparently a Cardassian spy.  She had counted Seska one of her closest friends over the last few years, possibly her best friend after Chakotay.  She felt betrayed, which she had been, and knew that Chakotay would feel the same both personally and as the captain who harbored a spy for so long undetected.  She also knew a few of the crew would not believe that the spy had been aboard undetected by their former captain.

Tuvok watched emotions run across B’Elanna’s face and gave her a few seconds to let them run their course so she could begin to act rather than react.  “B’Elanna, could you please have your engineers check the environmental systems and the back up power systems again.  We must get those systems on line soon, or we will all die as Evek said.”

“Just who appointed you captain, Tuvok?  You’re the newest member of this crew.  Why should we follow your orders?”  B’Elanna attacked the only thing she could.

“I am capable of organizing and prioritizing what needs to be done if we are to survive.  If you would tell me who would be a better leader at this time, I will follow their orders and make suggestions through appropriate channels.  To whom should I report, B’Elanna?  Do you desire to assume the duties of captain in Chakotay’s absence?”  Tuvok knew he was the most experienced of the remaining crew, but could not disclose the nature of his experience.  He hoped that by letting B’Elanna choose, the others would follow her lead, at least until they had made it safely to a Maquis base.  Tuvok did not trust B’Elanna in anything but her engineering skills.  He did, however, trust Chakotay’s ability to assess individuals and knew that Chakotay trusted B’Elanna completely so long as she was not letting her Klingon half overrule her common sense.  Tuvok waited.

“OK . . . for now.  You organize and prioritize!  I’ll get some work done!”  With that, B’Elanna left the bridge taking most of the bridge crew with her to assist with repairs.  Tuvok allowed himself to breathe again.  If he had been Terran, he would have sighed with relief.  He picked up a padd and began noting which systems should be repaired first.  He decided that the battery packs providing emergency lighting should be checked before they were forced to work in the dark.  A minor task he could perform easily on his own while he made a brief tour of the ship to assess physical and systems damage.   He left the bridge.

Chakotay found himself on the bridge of the Cardassian scout facing Evek.  Seska was to Chakotay’s right.  She immediately stepped up to Evek, told him she was going to sickbay, and left the bridge.  Neither the gul nor any of his crew seemed surprised by her behavior.

“So, who’s in charge of this scout, Evek?  You or Seska?”  Chakotay challenged the gul knowing it would only make things worse for himself but his pride would not allow him to pass up an opportunity to insult the gul.  Evek was unaffected.

“You had better hope that I am in charge of this ship because Seska is much more of a threat to you and that ship of yours than I will ever be.  I have to follow orders, she doesn’t.  You are my prisoner, not hers.  You may not appreciate the difference right now, but you will.  Take him to the brig.”

Chakotay awoke in the brig of the Cardassian scout ship.  He never did figure out exactly what he had done to irritate his escorts, but on the way to the brig they had decided to educate him about the proper way to show respect for their authority.  He moved slowly trying to assess his injuries.  He decided his escorts knew exactly what they were doing -- lots of pain but no life-threatening damage.  They had not affected his value to their senior officers.  A disturbance outside his cell caught his attention.  Seska stepped into view on the other side of the force field.  At least he thought it was Seska.  The Seska he knew was Bajoran; this Seska was Cardassian.  Then her eyes met his and she smiled that evil smile;  he knew they were one and the same.

“Well, Chakotay, I finally can stop pretending.  I am so glad to get off that poor excuse for a ship and to get away from all those self-righteous ‘freedom fighters’.”  But most of all, I am so glad to see you forced to follow someone else’s orders for a change.”

“I’m sure you didn’t come here just to gloat, Seska.  What do you really want?”

“You’re right.  You do know me too well, but you trusted me anyway.  That was stupid, but it worked to my advantage.  What were you thinking?  But I digress.  Let me tell you why I’m really here.

“How does it feel to know that for the last two years, every piece of intelligence about the Maquis making its way to Cardassia Prime was transmitted from your ship?  Didn’t you ever wonder why your ship never got caught?  Didn’t you ever wonder why your ship was always the one that got away.  Well, you were just too valuable as a resource to destroy, Chakotay.  Cardassia needed you.  You are too trusting, Chakotay.  I always said that would be your downfall, and I was right.  You trusted me, even after you finally admitted I was never interested in you but in the captain.  You’ll never learn, Chakotay.

“Chakotay, you haven’t asked why I sent the request for recall or why it was granted.  There were two reasons.  Starfleet has targeted your ship to get information about the Maquis.  If Starfleet had captured me, they would have found out in about two minutes that I was Cardassian, not Bajoran.  I couldn’t take the risk of being captured.  Now, how did Starfleet target your ship?  Surprise, Chakotay!  Starfleet also had a spy on board.  Two, count them, two spies on your ship and both undetected you Chakotay, the captain who was supposed to protect the ship and its crew.  You’re slipping, Chakotay!  If you ever make it back to the Maquis, they’ll probably put you on trial as a traitor to their cause.  They might have believed one undetected spy, but never two.  I may suggest to my superiors that they turn you over to the Maquis when they’ve finished with you.  They could save us the drudgery of an execution.  I wish I could say it’s been fun, but I will spare you false platitudes.  Well, I’ll be seeing you . . . or not.”

“Seska, you said two reasons.”

“I did, didn’t I.  Yes, well . . . how to put this.  I *was* pregnant with your spawn, Chakotay.  The doctor removed this minor inconvenience as soon as I came on board.  I thought you’d like to know.”

Kathryn Janeway charged down the corridor of Starfleet headquarters.  She had been called down from space dock where she had been over-seeing the final systems checks on her new command, Voyager.  She did not appreciate the interruption, especially since it was Admiral Necheyev.  Janeway had always found Necheyev to be a pain in the neck, insisting on dotting i’s and crossing t’s that she and everyone else knew were already dotted and crossed.  Voyager should have been halfway to Deep Space 9 by now.  Most of the delays could be traced to Necheyev or her cronies.  Janeway paused at the door to Necheyev’s office and forced herself to calm down.  If Necheyev thought Janeway had been irritated by the order to report to her office, she would drag out the meeting and find a few more i’s and t’s to dot and cross, almost certainly delaying Voyager’s departure further.  Janeway  entered Necheyev’s outer office and advised the lieutenant that the Admiral had requested her presence.  She was instructed to go right in.

“Admiral, reporting as ordered.”  Janeway stood on protocol, it never failed her when dealing with Necheyev.  It also irritated the hell out of Necheyev, which gave Janeway perverse pleasure.

“Kathryn, I’m glad you could make it so promptly.”  Necheyev ignored protocol because she knew Janeway couldn’t ignore it without Necheyev’s express permission.  It was a long running battle that neither would concede.

“No problem, Admiral.  My crew is just finishing some checks of minor backup systems.  They don’t need me breathing down their necks.”  Janeway refused to acknowledge that she would make them redo the checks when she was present because she did indeed feel the need to be breathing down her crew’s collective neck.  Most were young and relatively inexperienced, even though they were all among the best available.  The Cardassian situation was heating up and the most experienced officers were assigned to ships closer to Cardassian space, just in case.  Janeway was irritated that her assignment was so “safe” that she didn’t need many experienced officers, but could rely on recent academy graduates and non-coms for most positions.  She supposed that she should be grateful that she had an experienced first officer (though she thought Cavitt was a stuck-up sort and stuffy, even by her standards) and an experienced security officer -- if she ever got him back.  But getting him back was part of Voyager’s first assignment.  “Is there any word on whether I’ll be able to get that former Maquis released to act as adviser on the Badlands, Admiral.”

“That’s why I asked you down, Kathryn.”  ("Asked, my foot", thought Janeway.)  “It’s been arranged, provided you still want him after you’ve spoken personally and provided that he agrees.  They are expecting you at the rehabilitation colony within the hour.  I’ve arranged for a shuttle for you.  Here are all the authorizations.  You only need to add your approval and his acceptance.  Good luck.  Dismissed.”

“Thank you, Admiral.”  Janeway turned to leave thinking, "Shuttle! That will take two hours round trip assuming I get immediate clearance and the shortest route to Australia.  The transporter would have been a lot faster.  Thanks for nothing, Admiral."

Janeway headed for the shuttle pads, only to find that she had been assigned a pilot who would not be back from her lunch break for another twenty minutes.  She found a replicator and inhaled a cup of coffee, then sat back to drink the second at a more leisurely pace while she waited.  She was convinced Necheyev knew when the pilot was leaving for lunch and that this wait was no accident.

Taking a pragmatic approach, Kathryn began mentally planning exactly what she had to finish before Voyager could leave space dock.  She decided that she would not make her crew redo the systems checks when she got back to Voyager.  If everything checked out, she would request permission to leave space dock.  The crew could redo the systems checks on the way to Deep Space 9 when Janeway had time to breathe down their necks at her leisure without interference from admirals.  Her new Ops officer was so green he could almost pass for an Orion.  His recommendations from Academy instructors were impressive and had been the basis for Janeway’s selection of him as her Ops officer.  He may have been at the top of his class, but Janeway knew that grades and class work don’t always translate into ability on a ship or include an assessment of common sense.  She expected both, but he had to learn to relax or he would be useless when they needed him most.  The shuttle pilot appeared just as Janeway was considering a third cup of coffee.

“Don’t apologize, Lieutenant, let’s just get going,” Janeway interrupted the pilot before she could get one word out.  She took the hint and every shortcut to prelaunch checks there was.  She also argued successfully with flight control for the fastest route to their destination in Australia.

Janeway watched the young man at work.  He was blond and she knew he was tall even though he was kneeling at the moment.  He in no way resembled his father, Admiral Paris.  Janeway and Admiral Paris went back to the beginnings of Janeway’s career.  Owen Paris had known Edward Janeway but the two men had not been close friends.  Kathryn, on the other hand, counted the admiral as a friend, or as much of a friend as an older superior officer could be.  In some ways, Admiral Paris had filled the role Kathryn’s father would have filled had he lived longer.  He offered Kathryn advice about her career and warned her when she was in danger of putting that career at risk.  She had adhered to protocol very strictly primarily because of advice given by Admiral Paris over the years though she questioned the wisdom of allowing protocol to control some decisions.  Years of experience made her trust her own judgment more than written rules that could not possibly anticipate all situations.  Kathryn remembered Tom Paris as an adolescent seeking the attention of his father, but never remembered Admiral Paris giving him that attention.  His comments had mainly been critical and sounded uncaring, though Kathryn knew the Admiral loved his son and wanted only the best for him.  In recent years, the Admiral had been unable to even mention his son, so great was his disappointment and hurt at Tom’s failures.  Kathryn wondered whether Tom knew why he never heard from his father.

Breaking her reverie, Janeway stepped forward.  “Hello, Tom, it’s been quite a while.”

“Kathryn!   . . . or should I say “Captain”?  Congratulations.  Last I heard you were up for full commander.  Looks like you impressed a few people on the review committee besides my dad.  I know he didn’t send you and you didn’t just happen to be in the neighborhood, so what do you want?”

“Tom, we used to be friends . . . or at least friendly.”  Tom just stared at her from his kneeling position.  Kathryn continued, “If that’s the way you want it for now, OK.  I'm here to ask you something.  I need an expert on the Badlands and Maquis for my next assignment.  You are the best choice of the few available.”

“What’s in it for me?  No disrespect to you, Captain, but I’m not exactly Starfleet's golden boy these days.  I’m not going to betray the few friends I might still have just to make your life a little easier.  Besides, I barely qualify as a Maquis and I’m certainly no expert on the Badlands.  Three weeks and Starfleet captures me on my first assignment.  I can’t even succeed as an renegade.  You’re sure I’m the best available?  Or am I the only one available who hasn’t turned you down yet?”

“No, Tom, you’re the first of the options given me that I’ve asked.  You may have less knowledge, but if “Tom” promises “Kathryn”, I won’t have to worry that my advisor is giving me intentionally bad advice to protect others.  I’m not asking you to betray anyone; I’m only asking you to help me find one ship and retrieve one person from that ship.  I can’t promise not to take the rest of the crew into custody, but I can promise that I will only use deadly force to defend my ship.

"As for what you get out of this, you get out of this colony. . . this afternoon.  You are back on a ship and in space where you always wanted to be.  Depending on how successful I am and how much your information contributes to that success, your prison sentence will be reduced, perhaps even be considered fully served.   That decision is not mine to make, but the report and evaluation of your assistance and information is mine.  If you earn a glowing report, I will give you one.  If you don’t, I’ll be honest but I promise to put it in as favorable terms as I can.  That’s because you will be doing this for me, not Starfleet.  I’m sorry I can’t give you any time to consider this.  If you want to accept this offer, you’ll have to leave with me now.”

Tom stood up and stared at Kathryn, trying to read her expression and remembering a young officer attending parties given by his father.  He decided that the young officer was still there, just hiding behind the years and the rank, and made his decision.  He extended his hand, “I'll do my best.  Please make sure the captain keeps your promise, Kathryn.”

“She will, Tom, she will.”  Accepting his hand, Janeway smiled.  “Let’s go, Mr. Paris.  My ship has been waiting long enough.”  Turning and expecting him to follow, she headed back for the shuttle and Voyager, filling Tom in as she walked.  They stopped only at the administrative office of the colony to complete the paperwork before heading for Voyager.

A few hours later, Captain Janeway of the star ship Voyager received permission to leave space dock and gave the order for Voyager’s departure.  She kept the ship at impulse speeds for the first few hours giving her crew a chance to get used to the ship in space.  Eventually she ordered warp 5 and settled in to decide how soon to have them redo the systems checks she had missed.  If her crew thought the journey to DS9 would be a break from the tension of preparation, they would soon learn differently.

At Starfleet headquarters, Necheyev was embroiled in meetings with several other admirals and members of the Federation council.  Only those in the room knew how close the Federation actually was to war with Cardassia and the Dominion.  While they had long known the decision to hand border areas over to Cardassia had been a mistake, the Federation and Starfleet were still paying lip service to enforcing their treaty with Cardassia.  They all knew Captain Janeway’s mission was probably the last mission that would be ordered before they could no longer avoid declaring war.  They hoped she would be successful, because any Maquis she could bring home would have invaluable knowledge about Cardassian troops and ships, not to mention how to use the Badlands to advantage.  Necheyev knew that Janeway should have had the most experienced crew available, but her mission had to look unimportant to everyone, including the rest of Starfleet.  Necheyev’s secretary interrupted the meeting to advise them that Voyager had departed and was en route to DS9.  The participants of the meeting all paused.  The President of the Council voiced what all were thinking, “Luck and success, Voyager.  We’re counting on you.”

A week later, Voyager departed DS9 for the Badlands. All the crew had been given permission to visit the station when off-duty and duty shifts had been reduced to a minimum.  Janeway knew that this would be the last chance for a while for her crew to relax.  Voyager had picked up a dozen additional crew, mostly for engineering, and had restocked all supplies.  Rested psychologically, if not physically, Voyager’s crew prepared for their journey to the Badlands.  Janeway was surprised that Tom Paris had struck up a friendship with her oh-so-green Ops officer, Harry Kim.  While she hoped that Paris would help Kim relax a bit, she’d still have to keep an eye on that friendship.

Kathryn was pleased with the way her crew was developing.  They were starting to act like a team.  The apprehensions of the very inexperienced that were apparent during the journey from Earth to DS9 had faded and were reduced to merely keeping them all on their toes while on duty.  The only problem that Kathryn had with her crew was that her First Officer was present and her Chief of Security was not.  While she couldn’t fault Cavitt in the performance of his duties, he had been getting on her nerves more and more each day.  He insisted on calling her “sir” despite instructions to the contrary; he was frequently on the edge of disobeying orders, but never quite did; and he habitually made decisions that should have been made by the captain, but always managed to make the same decision Kathryn would have.  Kathryn had not been given a choice about her first officer, but she hoped when she finished this assignment she could convince personnel that he would be better suited to a larger ship where the first officer had more responsibility.  Hell, if she had to put up with him much longer, she might even recommend him for promotion just to get rid of him.

Once underway for the Badlands, Kathryn had met with Tom and told him the target of their search was the Élan commanded by a former Starfleet Commander named Chakotay.  She told him that her Chief of Security was on board the Élan and had been for several months.  Kathryn also told him most of her orders including those that specified no deadly force, period.  Starfleet wanted Tuvok, they wanted the Élan, they wanted Chakotay specifically, and they wanted his crew.  She admitted she did not know why, but that her orders indicated that the entire crew of the Élan would be given pardons if they would provide information about Cardassian troops, ships, bases, installations, ship movements and the Badlands in general.  They would not be requested, much less required, to give information about the Maquis or any of their bases, activities or contacts.  Finally she told Tom that she suspected a full pardon would be given to him as well if the mission succeeded and the Maquis cooperated.  Tom knew of the Élan and had met Chakotay briefly, but none of the others on his crew.  He knew Chakotay’s reputation and success rate.  He also knew that Chakotay would turn down some assignments received from Maquis leaders, and that those leaders had accepted his refusals.  No other Maquis captain had that privilege, and certainly no Starfleet captain ever would.  He could understand why Starfleet would want Chakotay apart from the embarrassment he caused as an ex-officer, but he had a hard time being convinced that Starfleet would only want information about Cardassia and was willing to give Chakotay a complete pardon without providing information about the Maquis.  After several hours of discussion and argument, Kathryn finally convinced Tom she was telling the truth about her orders.  He had only yielded when she admitted that she too wondered whether her orders were truthful in all details and promises.  Her admission that Starfleet could be lying to her as well as Tom and the Maquis was what finally convinced Tom to trust her.

Intelligence had provided Voyager with the last known location of the Élan and it appended a report that shortly thereafter that sighting, two Cardassian scouts had been seen on the same heading.  After three and a half weeks of wandering the Badlands along that heading, Voyager’s sensors came alive.  There was a small ship adrift 50,000 kilometers ahead.   The bridge officer gave the order to adjust course accordingly and called Janeway to the bridge.  An hour later the crew of the Élan had been transferred to a hastily emptied cargo bay turned sick bay and were being treated by Voyager’s medical staff for dehydration and malnutrition.  A few were sent to the real sick bay to be treated for more serious injuries aggravated by more than a month’s neglect.

The Élan was too large to fit in Voyager’s shuttle bays so its hull was being double checked for damage to ensure it could withstand the stress of a tractor beam for several weeks.  Other Voyager crewmen were on board the Élan checking all systems, trying to get the computer back on line.  Janeway wanted the record of events leading up to the ship’s current condition.  Janeway wanted a better explanation of why the Élan’s captain was not present.  A simple “the Cardassians took him and Seska” was not sufficient.  The very brief summary she had received from Tuvok before sending him to sick bay indicated that Seska had been a Cardassian spy; now she wanted to know whether Chakotay had been one as well.  That was one possible reason that her orders specified she retrieve Chakotay.  She mulled over the other possibilities.  The chime sounded indicating that someone was requesting admittance to her ready room.  At her order, the door opened admitting Tuvok.

“Well, old friend, you look much better than you did an hour ago.  Welcome back”

“Thank you, Captain.  I apologize for not changing into my uniform.  I do not know where my quarters are located and the computer would not acknowledge my being a member of the crew.  Fortunately, the crew was better informed.”

“I’m sorry, Tuvok.  I hadn’t remembered to follow through on those details, although I would have though Cavitt would have enjoyed making a point to remind me of my oversight.”  Kathryn was surprised that Cavitt hadn’t added Tuvok to the crew roster without telling her and assigned him the worst quarters possible consistent with his position on the ship before advising her of his actions while on the bridge.  Tuvok knew Cavitt and his opinion of his first officer was consistent with his captain’s, so no comment was forthcoming.  Kathryn quickly added Tuvok to the crew roster as Chief of Security and told him where his quarters were.  They then settled to the business at hand.  Three hours and three carafes of coffee later, they had finished.  Tuvok was to have his preliminary written report for the last month ready in 48 hours.  His full written report for his mission would be due 48 hours after arrival at DS9.  He was also to meet with his security team and catch up on his department.  He would be off the regular duty roster for at least 72 hours, possibly more.  As Tuvok prepared to leave, Kim called Janeway to the bridge.

“Report, Ensign”

“I’m picking up a coherent tetryon beam that will pass about 1 million kilometers off our port bow.  Source unknown.”

“Captain, that is the same type of beam that we encountered while being pursued by the Cardassians and which hit the Cardassian scout before it disappeared,” inserted Tuvok as he scanned the details relayed from the Ops panel.  As much as her curiosity drove her to investigate, Janeway asked whether they could safely tractor the Élan.  When advised that it was sufficiently intact to withstand the stress of a tractor beam, she gave the order to proceed toward DS9, best possible speed.

Captain Sisko who had been given no explanation why the information was to be conveyed before the weekly reports were sent had immediately reported Voyager’s return to DS9 to Fleet headquarters.  Sisko soon found out.  He calculated that his report had reached HQ barely two hours before the declaration of war with Cardassia and the Dominion was sent to all Fleet ships.  He knew that Janeway had not had time to file any reports.  She had been dealing with the Maquis crew and making sure they got to DS9’s sickbay before they were assigned quarters.  Odo wanted to confine them to the brig and yielded only when Sisko pointed out that Janeway’s orders were specifically directed toward this crew and therefore overrode the arrest warrants issued for Maquis in general.

The day after Voyager’s arrival, Janeway finally caught up on news and was surprised to find that war with Cardassia had been declared so soon after Voyager’s return.  The declaration of war did explain all the questions she had about her orders for the mission to the Badlands. Kathryn now knew that Starfleet had written her orders with the possibility of war in mind.  She also knew that Chakotay’s absence was even more critical.  If he had been a spy everything he knew about Starfleet and individual officers would be available to Cardassia.  Even if he weren’t a spy, he was still a valuable potential source of information for Cardassia about both the Federation and the Maquis.  She was not surprised to receive orders to transport the Maquis crew and everything from the Élan’s computer to Earth at maximum warp.  Her crew was relieved at being ordered out of the battle zone for the time being.  Janeway had mixed feelings but understood the importance of the Maquis reaching Earth quickly.  They would all be targets until out of Cardassia’s reach.