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Voyager

A little Voyager something I'm experimenting with this afternoon, all the players and the game are basically the same but I've decided to have a little fun with the concept. Just started writing an hour ago to see where I ended up.

Hope you enjoy!







Kathryn Janeway felt the coldness of the abandoned USS Voyager on her skin the moment her body was released by the frisson of the transporter beam.

As her eyes adjusted to the darkened surroundings of this deserted vessel's main transporter room, she drew in a long breath of cool, slightly stale air that spoke volume's about the ship's current state.

Voyager's atmospheric systems, once providing life-giving air and heat to over four hundred crew members, had been reset to minimum levels like every other system aboard.

Lighting, gravity and virtually every other on-board system had likewise been reduced to lower settings by the engineers of the Qualor II surplus depot five years earlier when she'd been enlisted into the vast mothball fleet that Starfleet maintained there, all geared toward providing the least possible power drain on the constitution-class ship's outdated reactor core.

The only systems that escaped were the safety systems surrounding the small amounts of anti-hydrogen and deuterium left aboard to fuel Voyager's slumber, and the low-level deflector field that protected her hull from micro-meteorite degradation as she silently awaited the day when she may prove useful to Starfleet once again.

After Voyager's seventy years of service as a faithful servant of the Federation, Janeway couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for this forsaken starship, her many decks that had once bustled with hundreds of Starfleet crew now dark and silent.

She stepped carefully down from the chamber where the old Zakdorn tug's transporter had deposited her and her small engineering team, low-level emergency lighting providing the only illumination and casting strange shadows in the darkness.

"This is creepy," Harry Kim opined as he followed Janeway off the dais, hefting two large black bags of equipment with him that he'd slung over each shoulder.

Janeway glanced back at the young man with a wry grin. "Not afraid of ghosts are you, Harry?" she asked.

"No, ma'am," Kim replied quickly, appearing to suddenly be aware of both his colleagues' eyes upon him. "I've just never been aboard a derelict before, that's all."

"She isn't a derelict," Janeway said softly, brushing her fingers across the protective sheet of milky plastic that had been pulled over the transporter console. "That implies she's unwanted. She's being held in reserve."

"Which basically amounts to the same thing," Joseph Carey countered, dropping his own heavy bags onto the deck with a loud thud that Janeway imagined reverberating through every part of the silent starship.

"We've got hundreds of these ships rusting away in a dozen ghost-fleets all across the Federation. Starfleet's problem is that it won't throw anything away. We're the galaxy's biggest hoarder!"

Janeway smiled. "Then we're fortunate that we have a lot of free space," she told him. "Besides, our very presence here should tell you that ships like Voyager are still useful, even if that is only for spare parts."

"Parts that should be replaced with newer ones," Carey told her, casting a disdainful eye around the outdated transporter room that dated back to the turn of the century. "Not replaced with an equally obsolete piece of equipment cannibalised from a decommissioned wreck."

"Well I'm sure the folks at the Kepler Observatory will be delighted with their 'new' T-5 energy converter," Janeway said teasingly. "When I was growing up my mother always taught us to 'make do and mend'. I think she'd be pleased that her daughter is sticking to her philosophy in some way."

"Did your mother's philosophy extend to scavenging things from abandoned starships?" Carey asked.

Janeway chuckled to herself. "You know, I don't recall seeing many abandoned starships lying around Bloomington, Indiana when I was a child," she said with mock seriousness.

"Come on," Carey said after a moment, grinning broadly as he lifted his engineering bags back onto his shoulders, struggling slightly even in the reduced-gravity. "Let's get this damned converter and get the hell off this ship."

Janeway watched the two men walk unevenly out of the transporter room, their uneven gait the result of the bags that contained what what looked like the contents of every equipment equipment locker aboard the USS Billings.

"I hope no one goes looking for a hyperspanner until we get back," she muttered quietly to herself as she walked out of the transporter room.

The Billings was holding station on the far side of the vast supply depot as instructed by a particularly ill-tempered Zakdorn quartermaster who had flatly refused Captain Paulson's request to take the starship into the depot and come alongside the decommissioned Voyager.

Instead Klim Dokachin had decreed that he would send a tug to meet the Billings and convey the necessary team of engineers to Voyager's location within the depot, where it would leave them before returning three hours later to take them and the energy converter back to the Billings. Dokachin had thus transformed a relatively simple operation to obtain a replacement converter for the Kepler Obervatory into something far more complex and time-consuming.

But such was the Zakdorn mindset.

"Are you coming, commander?" Kim called over his shoulder as he and Carey made their way down the dimly-lit corridor toward the emergency staircases that led down to Voyager's engineering hull from the saucer section. With most of the ship's systems offline or running at minimum levels, the turboshaft network was inoperative.

"You boys carry on," she called back, her voice echoing around the corridor. "I'm going for a look around."

As the Billings' chief science officer she was unquestionably surplus to requirements on the away-mission, but Captain Paulson's natural adversity to sending only two people for safety reasons, coupled with Janeway's sense of adventure had resulted in her assignment. The opportunity to explore an abandoned, darkened Starfleet vessel on her own while Kim and Carey worked in engineering was virtually irresistible to her.

"Watch out for ghosts!" Carey warned, just before he and Kim disappeared into an access door that gave access to the emergency stairs.

And then she was alone.

"I think the bridge first," Janeway decided, turning and heading the opposite way up the corridor.

It would be fun pretending to be the captain of Voyager for a few hours.
 
Nice beginning. I'm guessing that this Voyager is the starship that preceding the Intrepid class version?
 
The equipment locker opened with a sharp pull, and Kathryn Janeway reached into the large compartment and withdrew a heavy-looking Starfleet-issue jacket intended for use on away missions to colder environments. The jacket was an old design from before the fleetwide introduction of the new uniforms at the start of the year, but as Janeway pulled it on and zipped it up she was glad of the extra layer of insulation from the chill that it provided.

Janeway turned back to the darkened engine room, once the heart of the great vessel where her engineering crew tended the engines that drove her though the depths of unknown space, now empty and idle like the ship herself. Overhead emergency lighting provided what little illumination there was, reflecting off the same translucent plastic coverings that had been put in place over the various consoles as she'd seen in the transporter room.

The eerie silence was prevalent as Janeway moved slowly away from the equipment locker back toward the dimly-lit reactor core, her gaze coming to rest on each of the unoccupied stations in turn and briefly imagining how the large facility had once appeared when the ship had last been on active duty so many years ago.

She walked across to where the chief-engineer's office was located, listening to her footsteps echo around the cavernous engine room.

“Lets try you out for size,” she said, turning the chair to face the softly thrumming reactor and holding the arms as she lowered herself into the cushions.

Her combadge chirped.

Janeway gasped and stood bolt upright, her brain taking a few seconds to realise that the sound was an incoming call and not an alarm being triggered by her sitting in the chief engineer's chair.

“Billings to Commander Janeway,” Captain Jeffery Paulson transmitted, his crisp voice slicing through the silence of Voyager's engine room.

“Janeway here,” she responded, grinning at how silly her reaction to the sound now seemed.

“You've been gone for nearly two hours, commander,” Paulson said. “How are you getting on over there?”

“Carey and Kim are still having a little trouble with the converter,” Janeway replied, placing her hands on her hips as she spoke. “Carey said it's buried so deeply that he'll have to dismantle half the secondary hull to remove it. Although I'm hoping that he's exaggerating.”

“Understood,” the captain said. “How was your trip over there?”

“About as enjoyable an experience as one would expect from the Zakdorn,” she told him wryly.

“Not the most accommodating species in the galaxy are they?” Paulson said with a chuckle. “I can't say I'll be sorry to leave them to their precious supply depot and mothball fleet.”

“No, sir,” Janeway agreed.

“I'll see you when you get back,” Paulson said. “Billings out.”

Janeway dropped into the chair, folding her arms and stamping her feet on the deck as she tried to warm herself up. Though he did his best to hide the fact from the crew, Paulson's concern over her welfare was audible, at least to her. Their relationship was still in its infancy, a little over three months old, but already Janeway knew that she loved him. But that love brought with it a whole host of obstacles, not least the fact that she would almost certainly have to request reassignment to another Starfleet vessel. A captain and first officer engaging in such a relationship would be unworkable for so many reasons.

But even as Janeway considered the fledgling relationship and the ramifications it brought, a flash of light in the corner of her eye caught her attention. Her head snapped around, and she saw the bright beam of a torchlight cut through the darkness in the corridor just outside main engineering. Carey and Kim were still at work in the bowels of the ship beneath her, so she knew it wasn't one of them.

Could the Zakdorn have returned early? Even if they had, why would they have beamed aboard without informing her.

She could hear footsteps now, and instinctively drew the phaser from its holster beneath the jacket and checked its setting before standing up.

Suddenly a young man turned casually into the engine room, whistling a tuneless melody. He was dressed in civilian clothes and carrying a backpack of some kind and comporting himself so calmly it appeared that he didn't have a care in the world.

“Stay right there,” Janeway commanded, aiming her weapon directly at him.

The man froze, wide eyed.

“I can tell from you're expression that you weren't expecting to find anyone here,” she said.

“Something like that,” the man admitted, raising his hands slowly into the air.

“Who are you?” Janeway demanded sternly. “And what the hell are you doing aboard this ship?”

“You're from Starfleet?” the man asked, though it appeared to be more of a statement of fact than a question.

“That's right,” Janeway confirmed. “This is, after all, a Starfleet vessel. But the question remains, why are you aboard?”

“Look,” the man began, lowering his hands and taking a step toward her.

“That's far enough,” Janeway warned.

He took a step back. “What if I just turn around and go on my way?” he suggested, gesturing toward the door that he'd just walked through. “We can chalk this up to experience and say no more about it? No harm done.”

“I'm afraid it's not quite as simple as that,” Janeway told him. “Starfleet takes a dim view on unauthorised people scavenging from its starships, and I've just caught you red handed. A million kilometres out there is the USS Billings, and with one call from me I could have them here and you beamed into a holding cell. So I ask you again, who are you?”

The man sighed. “Tom Paris.”

“Paris?” Janeway repeated, narrowing her gaze at him. Then she realised why she recognised him. “Owen's son!?”

“The very same,” Paris sneered.
 
If it's all the same, could you take the covers down please?

You've given my story a name that I haven't chosen, the spelling in your description and the description itself was poor and obviously only based upon a few short paragraphs, and without trying to offend you, the compositions themselves are quite amateurish.

If you want to produce covers for your own stories then by all means go ahead, but I'd prefer it you didn't take it upon yourself to go ahead and create covers and chose a names for my own work, certainly not before asking first. It's a little distasteful to be honest.

Thanks anyway. :)
 
Promising start, certainly puts a different spin on it if the Voyager that is stranded in the Delta Quadrant is a rusty old ship from a mothball fleet.

Decent enough start that I'd say needs a touch of polishing before it's the finished article, but I enjoyed it all the same.
 
Any updates Frank Force? :)

(Isn't "Frank Force" a pseudonym used by Leonard Nimoy during one of the films?)
 
Interesting way of how the timeline unfolded here. I'm certainly interested to see what happens next, Mr. Force.
 
Promising start, certainly puts a different spin on it if the Voyager that is stranded in the Delta Quadrant is a rusty old ship from a mothball fleet.

Decent enough start that I'd say needs a touch of polishing before it's the finished article, but I enjoyed it all the same.
Thanks for the comments! :)

I'll try and get a bit more down on 'paper' soon!
 
I'll admit that I like the concept of Voyager being an outdated, deactivated starship that is (presumably given the buildup) drawn across the galaxy by the Caretaker.

You're writing is competent enough to evoke the dark, lifeless halls of this mothballed starship and what I've read so far has been enjoyable enough.

I also enjoyed the device of Paris being a scavenger of these mothballed ships in order to bring him aboard in a different manner, a man sneakily going from ship to ship under the noses of the Zakdorn removing items of value and presumably selling them on via the black market.

More please. :)
 
Thanks Santaval for the fantastic comments!

I'm gonna come back to this soon I have a few ideas for changes so watch this space!
 
Hi thank you both for the praise! I'm working on an entry for the January challenge at the moment, hoping to get that finished in time!
 
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