It’s a Hell of a Hull Breach
The Admiral watched as Enterprise E slipped into the priority berth in Starfleet’s main shipyard at Utopia Planitia. She waited as the lattice work of girders and catwalks slinked around the wounded ship and the glare of the huge work lights were turned on. Force fields formed around the Enterprise and finally as if she relaxed the great starship descended into the grid that gently held her.
When the atmosphere levels had risen to Earth normal and the artificial gravity was activated Admiral Janeway entered the maintenance area heading for the ship’s main exit. She met the captain as he came down the ramp.
“That’s one hell of a hull breach, Jean Luc.”
“Yes, I am afraid it is, Admiral Janeway. Are you my reception committee?”
“No, I’m afraid not,” she smiled.
"I don’t know which one is worse, Lieutenant Commander Torres’ Klingon temper, or Lieutenant Commander Paris’ condescending affability.”
“Oh, I’m afraid they are not the only ones this time, the Lieutenants are with them.”
Captain Picard tugged at his jacket and drew in a deep breath. “She is going to be running this facility in a year and probably the whole of Starfleet’s engine designers within five.”
Kathryn Janeway smiled, “Commander Torres is already designing quantum slipstream engines. They are within a few years of producing prototypes. She will make it work and her husband will design sleek beautiful ships around her engines.”
“Who would have thought that the future of Starfleet ship design would be shaped by an Academy dropout and a Fleet brat turned renegade,” he laughed. “But then, I see your people all over Starfleet command and the Academy.”
“What can I say, we have ties. Jean Luc these people have been through hell together, they’re family. I don’t think anything could break them apart now. Good luck with the reception committee,” and she turned heading back the way she had come.
Captain Picard watched her aide, Commander Michael Ayala, turn with her. As much a legend as anyone of her crew, he was one of the oldest people to graduate from the Academy. He did it top of his class along with a young Brunali named Icheb, and seventeen others, each one former Maquis.
Rumor had it that Mr. Ayala could have his choice of commands, yet he stayed with her, his loyalty unwavering. There were the twins who were remaking Starfleet’s cartography unit and a sentient hologram that practiced medicine. Voyager’s engineers were changing the way starships were built. He had no doubt that the 140 odd members of Voyager’s only crew would make their mark as surely as did the members of Kirk’s Enterprise a generation ago.
The passage slipped open just before she reached it and six people entered. Five he knew were looking for his answers but one, his dark hair flecked with grey and the lines of the tattoo on his forehead identifying him, was also a legend. He took her hand and turned walking away with her. He was the newly minted Admiral Chakotay, Commandant of Starfleet Academy and Admiral Janeway’s husband.
Yes, the legendary crew of the Starship Voyager were the bridge to a new generation. Untouched by the Dominion War, they would mold the new officers and led Starfleet into a new era.
The audible intake of breath behind him turned his attention to his inquisitors. He once again straightened his jacket and then stuck out his hand. “Good afternoon Commanders Torres, and Paris, I am sure you have many questions. Is there an empty conference room?” Then he turned, shaking the hands of the other three in turn, “Lieutenant Kim, Lieutenant Vorik, and you must be Lieutenant Commander Nicolette, I am glad to finally meet you.”
End
It is one of my better ones of her....not my favorite one...but still...hehe
Anyway, I might get back to my writing and rewrite Endgame. 
I have so, so much catching up to do. 
ounce:
