By the time I came aboard Voyager, I had a reputation as a spiritual man. The irony of that was known only to me. Wanting to believe, trying to believe, are not the same as accepting as fact that which cannot be seen, or touched or proven. Still, I kept trying. Even though I had new friends and family on Voyager, I still wanted to believe.

I was dreaming, and I knew it. With just a little effort I could have ended it, but I wanted it to continue. It was the same dream I had been having for months, and I wanted to see if it would be different this time. I needed it to be different this time.

The place was not known to me in the waking world, but it had become a familiar dreamscape. I stood on the peak of a red rock, and all around me the rocks were red, like Mars or Sedona. The wind was hot, like Vulcan, and the twin moons were blue, like Bolarus IX. My spirit guide sat facing me atop a rock some thirty meters away, separated by a seemingly bottomless chasm. A river ran through the gap, boiling with rapids that frothed over jagged boulders.

Despite the distance between us, I could see her face clearly. She was looking at me expectantly, as if she were waiting for something. Her eyes were bright silver in the odd bluish light.

"What is it?" I called to her. "What do you want me to do?"

She made no response except to flick her tail.

"I don't understand," I said and heard the frustration in my voice. "I don't understand."

She smiled.

The red alert klaxon yanked me awake instantly, and I rolled out of bed. It was nearly 0400; I would have been up in an hour anyway. I pulled on my uniform and hurried to the bridge.

The Captain and I arrived at almost the same moment. "Report," she said as we took our stations.

Tuvok said, "A ship has just dropped out of warp 1 million kilometers to port. It has raised shields and is powering its weapons."

"Let’s see it," the Captain said.

The screen shifted, then showed a ship, considerably smaller than Voyager, hanging in space. We’ve seen a lot of strange ship designs in the Delta quadrant, and my first thought was that this was one of the ugliest ones yet. I prefer ships with graceful arcs, like Voyager, or at least elegant geometric shapes, such as the Borg ships. This ship looked as if pieces from various ships had been stuck onto a giant cylinder for no apparent reason.

"They are targeting weapons." Tuvok made the announcement with his typical calm.

"Shields!" I said.

At virtually the same moment, the Captain said, "Hail them."

In a moment, we saw our newest potential adversary. Humanoid, but with porcine features that reminded me of the Tellarites: large snout, pig-like ears, ham-pink complexion. Unlike the Tellarites, though, this species had large, pointed teeth and two curling tusks on either side of the mouth.

"Unidentified ship," the alien growled before the Captain could speak, "why have you entered Dalrai space?"

The Captain’s eyebrows raised, betraying her surprise. We had been assured that this region of space was unclaimed for at least three more parsecs. "My apologies, we were told this was an open passage. I’m Captain Kathryn Janeway of the Federation Starship Voyager. We have no intention of remaining in your space; we are only passing through on our way home. Perhaps-"

"I have never heard of the Federation," the alien interrupted her. It was too soon in first contact to draw conclusions, but his body language and attitude suggested both disrespect and arrogance. "You are now the prisoners of the Dalrai Empire. Prepare to be boarded and submit yourself to the authority of Drin Makh, captain of the Conquest." From the way he preened, it was evident that he was this very Makh.

I saw the Captain’s shoulders stiffen and did not need to see her face to know her reaction to that statement. "I think not," she said in a quiet drawl, her eyes fixed on Makh’s.

Everyone on the bridge recognized her tone; Paris and Kim visibly tensed.

"If you check, you will find that we possess superior weapons and superior speed," she went on. I glanced down at the monitor. She was right, but how the hell did she know? She hadn’t been near a monitor when Tuvok flashed the data.

Makh’s ham-pink complexion deepened. "Do you imply that I fear you?"

"Not at all. I imply that you are too intelligent to start a fight you cannot win." She sat down, crossed her legs, and folded her hands. "Let us be reasonable, Drin Makh. We are willing to trade for passage across your territory. Or send us the coordinates of your space and we will avoid it. There is no need for battle today."

The pig-like eyes narrowed as he looked at her. "I am not authorized to negotiate passage. You must come with me to Mynath 5 to ask the permission of the viceroy."

She glanced at me, and after all these years I knew what she wanted. "I have to advise against that, Captain," I said, hoping I appeared reasonable. "It will create a significant delay."

It was a bluff, of course. I had no idea where Mynath 5 might be, but I knew she wanted an excuse to decline without appearing confrontational. She shrugged and lifted her hands. "You see my dilemma, Drin Makh. Surely we can work something out."

But the pig eyes had narrowed to slits and his skin was now fuchsia. "No! You will come with me, or you will be boarded." He made a slashing gesture, and suddenly the ship rocked from phaser fire.

"Direct hit," Harry Kim reported. "No damage. Shields are holding."

The Captain looked sorrowful, and I understood why. We had been through this all too often in the Delta quadrant. "Target their weapons. Then get us out of here, Mr. Paris, top speed."

"Direct hit," Tuvok said. It seemed to me that there was satisfaction in his tone, but that must have been my imagination. "Their weapons are disabled."

"Maintain speed for a couple of hours, Tom," she said. "I want to get clear of Drin Makh and any of his cohorts."

"Yes, Ma’am," Paris said. "Who do you suppose they were? This is supposed to be open space."

"I don’t know, and I’m not interested in finding out," was all she said.

*****

Kathryn and I had a velocity match scheduled after duty shift. After a hiatus of about a year, we had resumed our weekly matches a few weeks ago. I looked forward to them, and not just because we were recovering some of the ease with each other we had somehow lost. The games were strenuous enough that I was usually able to sleep dreamlessly on those nights. For several months I had been plagued by insomnia which, among other side effects, played havoc with my game. We were fairly evenly matched as players, but she was up on me by several matches. That night, though, she was distracted. On the last point, she let the disk hit her from behind and knock her to the deck.

"Point and match to Commander Chakotay," the computer said. Kathryn looked up at me and grimaced.

"Something on your mind?" I asked, sitting next to her and handing her a towel.

She didn’t try to deny it. "Sorry. It wasn’t much of a game, was it? I keep thinking about the Dalrai. Are there really that many unreasonable species in this quadrant? Or is it just our bad luck that we’re running into all of them?"

Since she was smiling, I did, too. "I wish I knew. Sometimes I think it’s just bad timing."

"Oh?" She looked up in interest. "What do you mean?"

"We’re used to the Alpha quadrant, which is fairly advanced, in terms of political development. There's only a handful of major powers controlling everything – the Federation, the Klingons, the Romulans and the Tholians. But a century or so ago, it was different."

She cocked her head with interest, and I warmed to my topic. "The political picture was much more diverse. The Orions were a definite power and there were a number of other significant independents like the Gorn and the Eminiari and the Halkans. Sometimes I think that a century from now, the situation in the Delta quadrant will have solidified and there will be just a handful of powers to deal with."

She looked thoughtful. "You could be right. There are times when I feel like I have to look back a century or so for guidance." After the slightest hesitation, she asked, "Have you ever studied James T. Kirk?"

"Not since the Academy. Commander Vukcic's class on Command Ethics."

Her smile widened with recognition. "I had the same class. Vukcic was hard on Kirk, called him a maverick."

That had been the kindest of terms the old buzzard had employed. Vukcic was a desk jockey who spent his career as an academic, but many with greater experience shared his view. Even in Starfleet, I was a Contrary; I nearly flunked the course by writing a term paper that passionately defended Kirk's record with the Prime Directive. "What did you think?"

"At the time, I thought he was absolutely right. Now though…" she paused. "I have a feeling that when we get back, the Vukcic's of the Fleet will be comparing me to Kirk."

I grinned. "You could do a lot worse. A lot of people still think he's the greatest commander in the history of Starfleet."

"Flattery will get you a cup of coffee."

Whenever she brings up coffee, she wants to move on. I stood, and offered a hand to her. She must have been sitting on her knee at an odd angle, because when she stood it was frozen and she stumbled against me. We stood for a moment, hands still clasped, only centimeters apart. Without planning it, I said, "As I recall, Kirk was very close to his first officer."

Her eyes locked with mine, and suddenly my breath caught in my chest. It was one of those moments that happens between us now and then, when time seems to stop and there is no such thing as duty. I was suddenly very conscious of the sweat-sweet smell of her, of the nearness of her. In these moments I feel more connected to her than anyone else in my life.

Then her mouth tugged to one side, in the lopsided smile that she uses to deflect deep emotion. "I don’t think Spock beat his captain regularly at velocity, though."

The moment ended. They always do. I smiled. "No, just chess. It’s in the job description for first officer, you know. We have to keep the captain grounded."

Her grin was genuine. "Grounded? Just wait ‘til next time, mister. I’ll show you grounded."

We went to the mess hall for that coffee before retiring, and I fell asleep pleased. Over the past two years or so, I had learned that it was a waste of time to contemplate might-have-beens, and to just take things a day at a time. That day was a good day.

Even so, I had the dream again. I stood on the red rock and stared across the chasm to where my spirit guide waited. She looked at me expectantly, and I knew she wanted me to come to her. But the gap was too deep and the river that filled it ran too fast, and I didn't know how to get there. "I don't know how," I called to her, feeling ill.

She flicked her tail, and dove into the river. I stood, solitary, on the red rock, in the hot wind.

I woke up breathing hard and dripping with sweat, and feeling completely and utterly alone. There was no more sleep that night.

*****

It was almost a week later when the distress call came. We had stayed at maximum warp for nearly 24 hours, and then dropped to warp 6. There had been no further contact with a Dalrai ship, and no indication that we were being followed. It seemed we had outrun the danger, for once.

Late in alpha shift, the Captain was in her ready room and I had the bridge, when Harry Kim said, "We’re picking up a distress signal."

"Let’s have it."

The viewscreen shimmered as it changed over to communications. We saw a man, a human from all appearances, with shoulder-length gray hair and a neatly trimmed gray beard. It was difficult to see much else; smoke swirled around him, obscuring everything else. "To any ship," he was saying, "This is the Lyrrial diplomatic ship Lily Sloane."

My head jerked up involuntarily. The name 'Lily Sloane' was too earth-like to be a coincidence, and even though I couldn’t place it then, it was familiar. "Captain Janeway to the bridge. Harry, open a channel."

"Open," he said.

"This is the Federation starship Voyager," I said. "How can we be of assistance?"

"Thank the Elders," the man said in response, just as the Captain came on to the bridge. "We were attacked by the Dalrai without warning. Our engines have been damaged; a core breach is imminent."

"Send us your coordinates," I said. The Captain was still getting acclimated to the situation and indicated that I should continue. "We’ll get there as fast as we can."

He shook his head. "There’s no time for me. I’ve launched an escape pod – please, find it before the Dalrai do. They’ve broken the treaty, there’s no telling what they’ll do if they get there first."

She had heard enough. "This is Captain Kathryn Janeway. We’ll find them. Save yourself, we’ll find you, too."

The man looked up then, and I had the sense he was really listening to us for the first time. "No time. I have to try to …Federation? Did you say Federa-"

His question was cut off in a sudden glare of white, bright enough that I had to cover my eyes with my arm. A warp core breach; I’ve seen them before, and there is no mistaking the blinding explosion.

There was silence on the bridge for a long moment. Then the Captain said, "Mr. Paris. Get us to those coordinates, fast."

It took us two hours at warp 8 to find them, although we came on the remains of the main ship about 20 minutes before that. The debris field left no doubt that the antimatter containment field had failed.

The Captain looked somber as she watched the screen. "Any sign of the escape pod?"

I understood her pessimism. Piloting an escape pod can be tricky, especially for an inexperienced pilot. Too many times, the pilot thinks that just going fast in a straight line will be sufficient, but explosions from a warp core breach have a predictable pattern and certain vectors provide greater chances for survival. I have seen too many rescue efforts that came to nothing because the escape pod was caught in the fringe of the explosion.

There was a moment of silence before Ensign Kim spoke with unmistakable relief. "There it is. Five thousand kilometers aft, right where it ought to be. There are two life signs aboard. They… they appear to be Human."

"Hail them."

Two woman, one old, one young, were huddled in the small pod. "This is the Federation starship USS Voyager," Captain Janeway said. "Are you injured? Do you need assistance?"

The older woman's relief was evident. "We’re not hurt badly, but we need help," she began. Then her face changed quickly, as if she didn’t trust her ears. "Did you say Federation starship? Do you mean the United Federation of Planets?  Has history finally caught up with us?"

The Captain turned to me with a ‘what now?’ expression. We had encountered other Humans in this quadrant, such as the 37s and the Equinox crew, but none had ever referred to the Federation as ‘history’. "Yes, the United Federation of Planets."

"You have finally found us, then?" She looked eager, then shook her head. "No, rescue us first. We can talk later."

Captain Janeway nodded. "We’re going to bring you on board with a tractor beam. Stand by."

The operation was proceeding smoothly when Tuvok interrupted. "There is a ship approaching rapidly off our starboard bow. It appears to be Dalrai, but it is larger and better armed than the Conquest."

"Shields," I said. "Extend them around the pod."

"They are hailing."

"Get that pod on board as fast as you can, Harry," the Captain said. "Let’s see what they want."

"Unidentified ship," the speaker began. He was Dalrai, but shorter and thicker than Drin Makh. His complexion mottled gray and pink, and his eyes a vivid green. "You have taken property that belongs to the Dalrai Empire."

"We have rescued survivors of a fatal attack," Captain Janeway replied. It was not a good sign that she did not introduce herself. That is almost always a signal that she expects a fight.

"Survivors?" His skin color deepened to charcoal gray, broken by patches of white. He seemed disconcerted.

"That’s right. They claim they were attacked without provocation. Do you know anything about it?"

He huffed a couple of times, or at least, made sounds that the universal translator could not handle. Then he said, "They committed crimes against the Empire. You will give them to me."

"I think not." She nodded in my direction.

"Red alert," I said. The lighting on the bridge changed as the ship went to battle readiness.

If the Dalrai had been surprised before, he had recovered himself. His mouth twisted into a sneer. "You think to fight? Do you know who you challenge?"

She smiled coldly. "I could ask the same of you."

"Got ‘em," Harry said, meaning that the escape pod was safely on board.

"You Lyrrial think you are a match for the Intimidate? You, who have preached peace for centuries, would go to war against Drin Golas? What do you know of battle?"

"You’ve made a mistake," the Captain said. "We are not Lyrrial. We are from the United Federation of Planets, and I assure you, we know how to fight."

Drin Golas stared at her, looking uncertain. Then he said something that the translators couldn’t handle, which means it was probably an expletive. "Surrender or die."

She looked at him thoughtfully for five long seconds, arms folded. At last she spoke. "Nuts."

With a slashing gesture, she signaled the end of the transmission. "Evasive maneuvers, Mr. Paris."

"Aye."

Almost immediately, the Intimidate fired. "Clean miss," Tuvok reported.

"Fire phasers," Janeway directed. "Aim for their weapons if possible."

"Direct hit," Tuvok reported in a moment. "No effect. Their weapons array is heavily shielded.

Voyager rocked again, violently enough that I had to hold on to my seat. "Direct hit, shields are holding." Kim reported.

The battle began in earnest then, and it quickly became apparent that the ships were evenly matched in armament and maneuverability. We would need all our skill, and a little luck, to get out of this one.

After about the fifth hit, the shields began to buckle, and the Ops station suddenly exploded in a shower of current and sparks. Harry Kim was thrown back against the bulkhead. I stood, intending to take over the station, when we were hit again. The last thing I remember is seeing the heavy strut swing down from above my head, and throwing my arms up for protection just before it struck me full in the face.

On to Part 2