Throughout the galaxy, an ancient network of interstellar portals has been reactivated, instantly linking distant planets and civilizations. Back home in the Alpha Quadrant, Starfleet can devote all its considerable resources to coping with the Gateways crisis, but in the Delta Quadrant, there is only the Starship Voyager®....
Just as Voyager enters an unusually hazardous region of space, the ship and its crew are confronted with a flood of lost and disoriented starships from all over the galaxy. Accidentally transported incredible distances by the unpredictable Gateways, the diverse alien castaways regard each other and Voyager with hostility and suspicion. Captain Kathryn Janeway suddenly finds herself struggling to hold together an extremely fractious fleet of dislocated alien vessels even as the newly awakened Gateways hold open the prospect of finally bringing her own ship home!
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Pocket Books/Star Trek
October 01, 2001
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Adobe DRM EPUB
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Excerpt from Gateways #5 by Christie Golden
Chakotay sighed heavily. "I hate to say it, but I'm afraid it doesn't look good."
Captain Kathryn Janeway's blue gaze flickered to the face of her first officer. She didn't answer at once. When at last she spoke, her voice was heavy but resigned.
"I knew I could count on you to tell me the truth." Chakotay had only spoken aloud the suspicion that had been growing in her own gut.
Chakotay nodded solemnly. His unhappiness was plain on his handsome face. "It doesn't look good at all."
A smile crept onto Janeway's lips. "All right, no need to rub it in," she said. "Well, as they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained."
Grimly, she stepped forward and drew a cloth over the abysmal painting, hiding it from view. "Into the replicator it goes."
"You did have some interesting usage of color over in the upper right-hand corner," said Chakotay.
Her smile was a full-fledged grin now. "You're backpedaling. No, it was a pretty bad effort. I guess abstract is not for me."
"It wasn't for da Vinci, either," offered Chakotay.
"And now we segue into flat-out flattery," Janeway retorted, her hands on her hips. "Are you bucking for my job, Commander?"
"When we get back I might just want a little ship of my own again."
A variety of emotions rose inside Janeway. First, and most powerful, was joy. "When" we get back, Chakotay had said. Everyone aboard Voyager was now substituting that hopeful, happy word for the ambiguous "if." Their brief communication with Starfleet Command, through the auspices of one Reginald Barclay, had infused the entire crew with hope. Torres had already informed Janeway that the new hyperspace technology and the modifications for the com system looked promising. There was now every reason to substitute "when" for "if."