Have you ever wondered about the senior staff we saw briefly in 
“Caretaker?”  They were the officers who died when Voyager was thrown 
into the Delta Quadrant.  There was Lt. Commander Cavit, the first
officer.  Lt. Stadi, helmswoman.  Dr. Fitzgerald.  This is their story.
Hey, even Commander Sisko has a cameo!  

As Voyager waits at DS9 for those crewmembers who have not arrived, a 
Maquis saboteur proceeds with his mission:  to cripple or destroy the 
ship before Voyager chases down Maquis craft.  Now, with time ticking 
down, Commander Cavit and acting security chief Lt. Rollins must hunt 
the saboteur down...or die trying...

No copyright infringement is intended.  This story was written for
my own pleasure only.  All the Star Trek characters belong to Paramount.
Various supporting characters belong to various people.  If you 
recognize your name and you're a friend of mine - you guessed it - 
it IS you!  (I apologize if you die a painfull or bloody death).


Please send any comments to me.  





“Captain, we’re approaching the Bajor system,”  Ensign Drake said from 
the helm of Voyager as the small and sleek craft slid through warp 
speed.

“Slow to sublight.”  Captain Kathryn Janeway said, stepping from her 
ready room to the bridge.  “Set course for Deep Space Nine, full 
impulse.”  her hair curled in a tight and severe bun, she glanced 
around the bridge.  Lieutenant Rollins (her acting chief of security 
in Tuvok’s absense), was at the Tactical Booth, eyes alert.  Lieutenant
Desmond Kaplan, Operations Officer, was at the Ops Management Booth as 
well.  Her first officer, Lieutenant Commander Cavit, was engaged in 
talk with Kaplan.

“...but a convicted felon?  Not a good idea.”  Cavit said.  

Janeway stepped over to where the two were talking.  She was still 
growing accustomed to Voyager, it was only her third week in command.  
Hell, two of her senior staff were missing from the ship.  Her helms-
woman, Lieutenant Stadi, was personally bringing Observer Tom Paris 
from Earth, and her chief of security, Lieutenant Tuvok, was somewhere 
in the badlands.  Soon, she would be going to recover him.  

“I’m looking forward to my new assistant,”  Kaplan said.  “Ensign Harry
Kim.”

“Yes,”  Janeway agreed.  “I’ve heard many good things about him.  He 
had to work hard at the Academy--even to get a Chief Assistant post on 
a ship as small as this one.”

“He did work hard,”  Cavit interceeded.  “I knew him when he was a 
junior cadet.  I was second in command of the Streep, an Academy 
training ship,” Cavit explained.  “He was posted there during his third
year.  He was very capably, very quick in thinking.  A good kid.”

“But you were saying about Paris?”  Janeway prompted.  She didn’t want 
her crew being hostile to Paris.  She needed the ex-Starfleet 
lieutenant to be able to help them, and that meant being nice to him.  
No matter how much she might hate him.

“He’s a traitor.”  Cavit snapped.  “An ex-Maquis.  He works for 
whoever’ll pay his bar bill.  He’s a mercenary.”

Strange, Janeway thought.  That’s similar to what Paris said...

“Captain!”  Drake’s voice was filled with alarm.  Janeway and Cavit 
whirled in time to see Drake shut down all forward propulsion and bring
Voyager to a sudden stop.  The ship seemed to groan, and the deck 
pitched with the sudden deceleration.  Janeway almost lost her balance,
and made a mental note to talk to Commander Singh about the grav unit.

Cavit leaped forward, knocking Drake from his seat.  He glanced at the 
control panel, wondering why  Drake had stopped them.  Then he saw why.
Or rather, he didn’t see at all.

“Captain!”  Cavit’s eyes were narrow.  “We’ve lost all sensors!”

Janeway looked at Kaplan’s panels.  Indeed, all the sensors  were 
black.  Kaplan hit a panel.  “Bridge to engineering.  We’ve lost 
sensors.”

“This is Lieutenant Carey,”  a voice said.  “Commander Singh is already
looking into it.”

The control panels lit up again.  “Sensors are back,”  Cavit said, 
relieved.  

“Resume course,” Janeway ordered.  Voyager’s engines came back to life.
“Mr. Carey--why did we lose sensors?”

“I don’t know, Captain.”  Carey’s Irish brogue replied.  “Mr. Singh is 
looking into it.”

Sensors were a very important thing to a starship.  They told you life 
readings from other ships, or planets, kept you informed about any ship
nearby you might be worried about, they could tell you if you were 
under attack, or if a nearby star was about to go supernova.  But 
traveling at impulse, the forward sensor dish’s job was to make sure 
the ship had a clear path.  Ramming an asteroid at light speed -- even 
with shields up -- could puncture the hull in any given place.

“Yes, I heard you the first time.  Bridge out.”  Janeway turned to 
Cavit.  “Make sure Commander Singh files a full report of this.  Its 
too damn strange to be equipment failure.”

“Understood, Captain.”  Cavit said.

“We’re approaching DS9.”

On the viewer, the rotating concentric circles and docking pylons of 
the Cardassian space station filled the viewer. It was ugly, alright.  
Janeway thought.  The station was filled.  Two Nebula-Class starships 
were docked at the lower pylons, and a Galaxy-Class ship was at one of 
the upper pylons.  Two Klingon birds of prey were on docking approach. 
Freighters and other small ships were moored along the docking ring.  
Also docked at a docking bay midway between upper and lower pylons, a 
blunt nosed starship waited for action.  Janeway identified the Defiant
quickly.  What a wonderous ship, she thought.

“Captain, we’ve been cleared for docking pylon two.”  Drake reported.
  
“Thank you, Mr. Drake.”  Janeway told the ensign.  “Commence docking, 
Mr. Cavit.”

“Aye, aye!”  Cavit replied with a cocky grin and a wink.  As he droned 
into manuvers, and thruster firings, Janeway walked over to Kaplan.  
The lieutenant looked up. 
 
“Yes, Captain?”

“Is this your first deep space assignment, Mr. Kaplan?”

He looked up.  Suprise was in his dark eyes.  “No, sir.  I served as 
an assistant operations officer onboard the San Diego for five years.  
Why?”

“Just curious.  I haven’t had time to review your file.”

“You’ll find it exemplarary, I’m sure.”  the Ops officer told her.  “I 
graduated from the Academy with honors, served two months at Starfleet 
Command, and then made the mistake of disagreeing with Admiral 
Versellia.”

Rear-Admiral Versellia was known for an incident where he had 
transfered a lieutenant who had had the misfortune to step into a 
turbolift where Versellia was, and upset the Admiral’s concentration.  
Versellia had posted the lieutenant to a far away outpost.  That was 
one of many incidents of Versellia abusing flag privilage.  It hadn’t 
taken long for other Admirals like Neyechev and Layton to restrict 
Versellia’s transfer powers.

“What happened?”  Janeway asked.

Kaplan looked embarrased.  “I made a comment that he didn’t have a good
view from his office windows.”

Janeway arched a brow in a Vulcanesque mode.  

Kaplan shrugged.  “Anyway, then I spent five years aboard the San Diego
patrolling first the Neutral Zone, than the DMZ.”

Janeway leaned forward.  “But you haven’t been held back.  Your 
career...”

“Versellia probably helped my career by tossing me to the frontier.”  
he touched the two solid silver pips on his collar.  “I am now a full 
lieutenant.  Not as impressive as Commander Cavit or you, Captain, 
perhaps, but at twenty seven?  A very good rank.”

She smiled at him.  “So you’re satisfied?”

Kaplan shrugged.  “I plan to make Lieutenant Commander by my twenty 
ninth birthday.”

“Captain,”  Cavit called from where he stood next to Drake at the conn.
“We’ve docked.”

“Good,”  Janeway replied.  “Lock umbilicals in place, cut power to the 
warp drive.  Shut us down except for life support, lights, and computer
power.”

“Doesn’t shut us down much,”  Cavit smiled and proceeded.

“Captain,”  Rollins said from Tactical.  “Incoming message from Deep 
Space Nine.  Commander Sisko is waiting at the airlock for you.”

Janeway nodded.  “Intership communications,”  when it clicked on, she 
spoke.  “We will be departing on a dangerous mission in three days.  I 
advise you to take shore leave on DS9.  It may be the last we get in a 
long while.  Bridge out.”  she looked around the bridge.  Rollins, 
Drake, Kaplan and Cavit were busy doing work.  “Did you think I was 
speaking to myself?”  she snapped.  “As my ancestors used to say: 
‘Git!’”

The four men filed away into the turbolift and were dropped to the 
lower decks.  Janeway took the other turbolift from the bridge ramp to 
deck two, and arrived at the airlock.  The ship was deserted.  Most 
crew hadn’t wasted time getting off the ship.  Still, she saw an 
engineering team running a diagnostic of a ‘sensor sweep’ control room.
  
At the airlock, the tall and imposing form of Deep Space Nine’s 
Commander Benjamin Lafeyette Sisko stood just outside Voyager’s 
corridor.  Janeway invited him in.  She owed him, to be honest.  He 
had been offered command of Voyager, but had turned Starfleet down.  
Starfleet had then picked the next most qualified: Janeway.  

Janeway led the way to Engineering.  It still had the blunt “purpose 
only” look of the Defiant, although larger.  There was a catwalk across
the main corridor, and three techs scurried about, checking systems.

Janeway removed a panel on the bulkhead.  She pointed out one of the 
blue-grey packets underneath. “This is the bio-neural circuitry.” 
 
Sisko nodded.  “I’ve heard about it.  Very impressive...and also 
dangerous.”

“That’s true.”  Janeway said. “It can be affected by temperature, 
etcetra.  It makes the ship that much more of an organic life form.”

“Captain!”

Sisko and Janeway both turned to see Lieutenant Commander Jenna Singh, 
Chief Engineer, hurry over.  She was Asian, with long black hair.  She 
looked, to Sisko, like a relative of Keiko.  The cheekbones and eyes 
were the same.  

“Yes, Commander?”

“Diagnostic teams have swept the whole ship.  There’s no trace of 
whatever it was that ‘disposed’ of the sensors, I’m afraid.  Mr. Carey 
is checking each sensor relay, one by one, to try and find the answer.”

“There are sixty sensor relays aboard Voyager.”  Janeway reminded Singh.

“Mr. Carey is aware of that, Captain.  In fact, he volunteered for this
assignment.  He’s very anxious, as we all are--” her hand indicated the
engineers on duty “--to find the reason for the sensor failure.”

“Sensor failure?”  Sisko asked.  “Is that why you came to a full stop 
before docking?”

“Yes, it is.”  Janeway replied.  “We had a shipwide sensor malfunction 
for several seconds.  Sensors came back online quickly, though.”

“Since then,”  Singh said.  “We’ve been conducting system checks.  
Still no luck, I’m afraid.  We’ll keep looking, though.  I’ll have an 
answer for you, Captain.”

Janeway thanked Singh, and she and Sisko walked out to the corridor.  
Sisko was deep in thought, and Janeway was content to let her old 
friend think.  When they stepped into the privacy of the turbolift, and
Janeway said: “Sickbay”, Sisko spoke.

“Do you think the Maquis might be trying to sabotage your mission?”

Janeway looked at him.  “By cutting the sensors for a few seconds?  
It’s occured to me, Ben.  But if they were going to end the mission, 
they’d do more than just cutting off sensors.  They’d give us a 
warning--a severe warning.”

She looked at the man who had first tangled with the Maquis.  He had 
been the first, but not the last.  The Enterprise was patrolling the 
DMZ, and three other Intrepid class ships were being readied for Maquis
hunting missions.

The turbolift doors hissed open, and the two emerged into another 
corridor.  Janeway led the way to a door marked ‘sickbay’, and entered.

A Vulcan nurse glanced up at them.  “Captain.  Commander.”

“This is Nurse T’prena,”  Janeway introduced.  “Nurse, this is 
Commander Ben Sisko.”

“Of Deep Space Nine.”  T’prena said.  She faced the dark skinned 
commander of DS9.  “Congratulations, Commander.  You have quite a list 
of accomplishments for one so young.”

“Not as great as Captain Kirk, I’m afraid.”  Sisko said modestly.

“Captain Kirk was an excellent starship commander, I am well aware, 
after having served with him prior to the decommissioning of the 
Enterprise-A,”  T’prena said.  “But he did not open the Gamma Quadrant
to exploration.”

“Thank you.”  Sisko told her.

“T’prena!”  a dark haired doctor stood in the doorway to his office.  
“I need that medical diagnostic!”

The nurse nodded, and walked off. 
 
“Doctor,”  Janeway said.  “This is Ben Sisko.”

“Hello,”  the doctor said, shaking Sisko’s hand.  “I’m Doctor Hildagron
Fitzgerald.”

“Pleased to meet you,”  Sisko told him.  “How long have you been aboard
Voyager?”

“About a week,”  Fitzgerald said with a laugh.  “I transfered aboard 
from the Harrington when Voyager was commisioned at Earth.  Beautiful 
ship.  I’m looking forward to serving aboard her.”

“I’m sure you are.  She is indeed wonderous.”

“Computer,”  Janeway said.  “Initiate Emergancy Medical Holographic 
Program.”

Fitzgerald scowled.  “I hate that thing.”

A man suddenly blinked into existance.  “Please state the nature of the
medical emergancy,”  the bald hologram asked pointedly.

“There is no emergancy you blasted contraption,”  Fitzgerald snapped. 
“Go shut yourself down.”

The holo-doc blinked and drew back a bit.  “No need to be rude,”  he
said before dissapearing.  Janeway turned to face the ship’s CMO.  
“Doctor, is there something wrong with the holo doctor?”

“Yes, Captain.  There is.  Its very existance is an insult to me.” the 
hauty officer drew himself up.  His eyes narrowed.  “If they want to 
replace me, they should reprogram that walking computer.  What’s is its
name?  Data?”

Sisko said.  “I think the purpose of the EMH is to supplement the 
ship’s medical staff.  Medical personel can be killed as easily as 
regular ship’s personnel, you’re aware.  And as for Lieutenant 
Commander Data, he is more than a walking computer.  He’s a sentient 
life form, and second officer of the fleet flagship.”

Fitzgerald ‘harumphed’, and turned and hurried away.

“You’ll have to forgive him, Ben. He’s not very social.”	

“I’ve noticed.”  Ben said. 

****

The saboteur checked his station.  If he was patient, he might have an 
oppurtunity to kill Captain Janeway.  That would end this mission 
before it began.  He settled down in his hiding place--and waited.  
And grinned to himself.

He couldn’t wait.

****

The bridge was deserted when Janeway and Sisko entered.  The lights 
were dimmed to near black.  Most of the control stations had been shut 
down, but a few still glowed status reports.
  
“Lights.”  Janeway ordered.

A blossom of white light filled the bridge.  Dark shadows became chairs
and bulkheads and doors.  Light shadows became sloping floors and 
ceiling.  The viewscreen remained as dark as before.

“Nice ship,”  Sisko said.   He smiled, and walked to the curved control
panel of the one person helm station.  He placed a dark skinned hand on
the top of it, and grinned at Janeway.  “Looks familiar, Kate.”

Janeway laughed.  When then-Lieutenant Commander Ben Sisko had been 
assigned to Utopia Planitia, he had been in charge of developing a top 
secret prototype for what would’ve been a Federation warship class to 
be used against the Borg.  The U.S.S. Defiant had been deemed too 
unstable for use at the time, but the unique helm design had allowed 
greater control and effiancy to the pilot.  

The Intrepid-class ship was the second class vessel to use the design.
The first was the Defiant-class, of which there was only one: the 
U.S.S. Defiant, docked at DS9’s docking ring.

“Yes, Ben.  For some reason, Starfleet likes your archaic designs,”  
the broad smile on Janeway’s face showed that she was kidding.  “To be 
honest, Ben, why did you leave Starship Design?  Look at what you 
accomplished with the Defiant.  A wonderful ship.”

Sisko smiled.  “You should hear my Chief Medical Officer.  He complains
about the medical bay.  It’s practicly nonexistant.”

“Oh?”

“Yes,”  Sisko said.  “We had the ship nearly finished, a ship that 
could take on and defeat the Borg, complete with the then prototype 
quantum torpedoes.”

“Yes?”  Janeway prompted as Sisko admired the Ops bay.

“And we realized we didn’t have a sickbay.  So, we cut away a few crew 
quarters, made some modifications, put in some beds, some diagnostic 
tables...and ta-dah!”

“Are you serious?”  Janeway asked.

“Oh, yes.”  Sisko replied.  “It’s very cramped, I’m afraid.”

“I can imagine.”

Sisko glanced around.  “I need to be getting back to the station, 
Captain.  I have a staff meeting in fifteen minutes.”

Janeway nodded, and they entered the turbolift.  “Deck eight.”  Janeway
said.  The turbolift descended.  Janeway started to say something...

When, with an inhuman howl, the turbolift entered into a free fall.  

The rest will be coming soon...hah hah hah!!! (evil laugh)




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