STARDATE 54554.1CAPTAIN'S LOG – SUPPLEMENTAL
We've been pulled into a region of null space — a spatial void devoid of stars, light, or subspace emissions. The warp drive is offline, sensors are blind beyond two kilometers, and the nearest exit vector is still undetermined. To make matters worse, we're under fire.
INT. BRIDGE – U.S.S. VOYAGER
The deck shudders as another impact rattles the bulkheads. Sparks rain from a tactical console. Red alert lights bathe the bridge in a pulsing crimson glow.
"Return fire!" Janeway's voice cuts through the chaos, sharp and commanding.
"Phasers ineffective, Captain," Tuvok reports from Tactical. "Enemy vessels appear to be using scavenged energy weaponry—possibly adaptive."
"Adaptive to what?" Janeway demands.
"Everything," Paris quips from Helm, his fingers flying over controls. "They're hitting us from every direction. Shields at sixty-two percent and dropping."
"Evasive pattern Delta-Seven."
The Voyager twists through the darkness, the starless void outside offering no frame of reference—only the distant glow of weapons fire from unknown ships.
Janeway grips her chair. "Where are they coming from, Tuvok?"
"Unknown, Captain. Their hulls reflect no coherent energy signature. But I have identified six distinct sources. One appears to be…"
"Boarding craft!" Torres' voice crackles over the comm. "They're trying to cut through Deck 5, Section 12—near Sickbay!"
Janeway stiffens. "Seal that section. Paris, get us some distance. Tuvok…"
Before she can finish, the ship rocks violently, throwing everyone forward.
INT. SICKBAY – DECK 5
The lights flicker, power surging through the bulkheads. 7 of 9 steadies herself against a biobed while the Doctor grips the edge of a console.
Superman stands perfectly still, cape hanging in the dim red emergency glow, his eyes narrowing toward the corridor beyond.
"Something's coming," he says quietly.
The Doctor frowns. "Our internal sensors are down. You can hear them?"
"Four… no, five lifeforms. They're cutting through the corridor wall with plasma torches. Fast." Superman's tone is calm, but focused.
The Doctor's holo-eyes widen. "Captain, I hope you're hearing this."
"Janeway to Sickbay. We've got hostiles breaching your deck. Reinforcements en route, but you're the closest to the entry point. Hold position."
7 meets Superman's gaze. "Permission to act?"
Before Janeway can answer, the bulkhead trembles under a powerful explosion.
Superman steps forward. "That's my cue."
The Doctor waves his hands frantically. "Now wait just a moment!"
The inner door bursts open, the shockwave sending debris flying. Five raiders spill through. Rough-looking scavengers in mismatched armor, their weapons glowing with pirated energy coils. They look around, momentarily confused by the sterile medical bay.
"Stay where you are!" one shouts, aiming his weapon.
Superman steps forward. "Leave now."
The first shot hits him square in the chest. A bright pulse of orange energy, equivalent to a Starfleet Type II phaser, flashes against his skin and dissipates without leaving a mark. The impact doesn't even stagger him.
The raider hesitates. "What…what are you?"
Superman moves faster than any of them can react—not supersonic, but blindingly quick. A blur of red and blue. He disarms the first attacker, crushes the weapon's grip with one hand, and gently, but firmly, pushes him aside into a wall panel, leaving him dazed but alive.
Another fires. Superman ducks, the bolt hitting the ceiling. He sweeps forward, palm open, and shoves the raider backward into a console—hard enough to stun, not kill.
The last two raise their weapons, but 7 of 9 steps in beside him. Her ocular implant glints.
"Your tactics are inefficient," she observes.
"Suggestions?" Superman replies mid-motion, deflecting a weapon swing.
"Precision strikes," she answers, raising her own modified phaser rifle. Three clean bursts later, the remaining raiders are stunned.
The Doctor straightens, brushing imaginary dust off his holographic sleeve. "Well. That's one way to perform triage."
Superman looks toward the doorway, listening again. "They weren't alone. There's a larger ship outside—maybe more."
Janeway's voice cuts through the comm: "Captain to Sickbay, report!"
Seven answers crisply, "Five hostiles neutralized. Minimal damage. No casualties."
"Good work. We've identified the attackers as part of a predatory alliance trapped inside this void. They ambush newcomers to scavenge supplies. We're holding for now, but we're badly outnumbered."
Superman's gaze turns toward the ceiling. "How many ships?"
"Dozens," Janeway replies grimly. "All fighting over scraps of energy. If we can't negotiate or outmaneuver them, we'll be picked clean like the rest."
He glances toward 7 and the Doctor. "Then I'd better earn my keep."
The Doctor folds his arms. "I suppose that means more damage reports for me."
7 tilts her head. "Your capabilities may prove invaluable. But remember, Voyager is not your battleground."
Superman shakes his head, "Anywhere that life is threatened is my battleground."
INT. BRIDGE – MOMENTS LATER
The turbolift doors open, and Superman steps onto the bridge beside 7. Every eye turns. Janeway rises from her chair, her expression caught between disbelief and necessity.
"Captain," he begins. "Permission to assist with external defense?"
Janeway studies him for half a beat, then nods. "Under supervision. You'll work with Tuvok and Torres on shield coordination. No unnecessary heroics."
Superman smiles faintly. "No promises."
Paris calls out, "Captain! Another wave incoming, three large vessels dead ahead!"
"Brace for impact!"
Outside, the Voyager sails through the lightless expanse of The Void—a single spark of defiance surrounded by predatory shadows. Phaser fire streaks across the emptiness, illuminating the gleaming hull for a moment before darkness swallows it again.
INT. ENGINEERING – U.S.S. VOYAGER
The deck vibrates under intermittent impacts. Warning klaxons blare while the hum of the warp core sputters and dims. Sparks flash from an EPS conduit as B'Elanna Torres slides out from beneath a console, wiping sweat and plasma soot from her brow.
"Containment field's holding, but if those scavengers hit us again, we'll lose secondary power."
"Then we shall ensure they do not," Tuvok replies, stepping in with calm precision. His uniform is darkened by smoke residue, but his bearing remains unmoved.
Superman stands beside them — larger than life yet strangely subdued. The emergency lights paint his red and blue suit in stark crimson tones.
"Status?" he asks.
Torres points to the pulsing schematic on the console. "Their energy weapons are draining our shields faster than we can reroute power. It's like they're sucking our plasma flow straight through the shield harmonics."
Superman studies the diagram, brow furrowed. "They're leeching your energy, not just hitting you."
Tuvok raises an eyebrow. "An accurate assessment. The Captain is negotiating with a potential alliance of other stranded ships, but hostiles continue to attack intermittently. Our defense must hold."
Torres slams a panel closed. "Fine. You're the guy who can take a phaser blast without blinking. How about we use that?"
Superman looks mildly amused, "How?"
"Can you survive in space?" Torres asks.
"No." Superman doesn't pause for a moment. "I also don't think I'm capable of taking the weapons from the ships. Hand-held phasers, sure, but if you think I can tank a starship's phasers, you're giving me too much credit.
"Then what can we do?" Torres smashes her wrench on the side of a sturdy piece of equipment.
"Give me a space suit and a personal shield generator, let's see if I can repair some of the damage and get the shields back to full," Torres, Tuvok, and 7 look toward one another.
EXT. SPACE – THE VOID
Voyager drifts through the oppressive black, surrounded by faint flickers of movement — scavenger ships circling like vultures.
A small airlock opens on the dorsal hull. Superman steps out into the nothingness, wearing one of the ship's spacesuits. This suit has been altered slightly.
He moves across the hull, boots magnetized, and crouches beside a damaged shield emitter. With bare hands, he tears away a burned-out coupling, the metal twisting like foil in his grip.
"Engineering, I've reached the array," he says through the comms. "But the emitter's not aligned with your shield harmonics. It's draining into the magnetic field."
Torres' voice comes through the static: "Then be the magnetic field! Realign it manually—if you can keep that coil in place, I can reroute power from inside."
Superman braces himself and pushes the glowing coil back into place. The blue energy sputters—then stabilizes.
Inside, consoles flare to life.
Torres grins. "That's it! He's grounding the interference!"
Tuvok adjusts the tactical controls. "Shields rising to seventy-four percent. Hostile fire diminishing. Efficient."
Superman speaks calmly, voice steady over the open channel. "How's your alliance coming along?"
Janeway's voice cuts in from the bridge. "Negotiations are... tense. But if we can survive another few minutes, we might have allies instead of enemies."
A new explosion rocks the ship — a massive detonation at the ventral side.
"Captain, we've got a second wave! They're targeting the warp plasma vents!" Torres calls out.
Superman looks down the hull — the glow of scavenger thrusters approaching fast. Small raider ships latch onto the ventral plating, deploying cutting beams.
"I see them," Superman says. "Permission to engage?"
A pause. Then Janeway's voice, firm and trusting: "Granted. Try not to kill anyone."
"I have a strict anti-kill policy, that I will break under the most extreme circumstances," Superman responds as he rushes at full speed toward one of the raider ships.
EXT. THE VOID
Superman leaps, arcing through the emptiness and controlling his fall with the suit's thrusters. He lands beside the first raider ship, a scavenged, rusted craft magnetically clamped to Voyager's belly.
The attackers notice too late. Superman grips the ship's hull and peels the raider from the hull, and pushes the vessel free from Voyager's hull. It spins away harmlessly. Superman takes a phaser rifle and fires, hitting the ship precisely so that the vessel can no longer fight, but no lives are in danger.
Another ship opens fire, energy bolts missing Superman as he uses his strength and speed to dodge the attack. Guiding himself toward the ship, he grabs a drifting debris panel, hurls it with practiced precision, and shatters the attacker's stabilizers.
Inside Voyager, Torres watches the sensors spike.
"Is he… throwing pieces of our ship?"
Tuvok, without looking up: "Only debris. Tactical efficiency: acceptable."
Torres snorts. "I'll make sure to add that to the damage report."
INT. BRIDGE – U.S.S. VOYAGER
Janeway stands before the viewscreen, watching the hostile ships pull back. The alliance of smaller vessels now appears alongside Voyager, vessels that, moments ago, were scavengers themselves, but now fire on the pirates.
"Captain," Harry Kim reports, "Two ships are hailing us. They say they've reconsidered our proposal. They're offering mutual protection."
Janeway smiles, relief flickering in her eyes. "Tell them we accept. Share shield frequencies and distribute power evenly. Maybe there's hope in this place after all."
Tuvok's voice comes over the comm. "Hostile forces retreating, Captain. Mr. Zod is returning to the airlock. Structural integrity remains intact."
Janeway exhales, softly. "Understood. Have Torres and the Doctor debrief him. And make sure he's thanked, properly."
INT. AIRLOCK – MOMENTS LATER
The doors cycle open with a hiss. Superman steps back inside, boots hitting the deck with a soft thud. Frost clings to his spacesuit, evaporating instantly in the warmth. With the all clear, he removes his helmet.
Torres meets him with a crooked grin. "Not bad for your first EVA. Most people take a few days to get used to the vacuum."
Superman smiles faintly. "It's... quieter than I expected."
Tuvok tilts his head. "You performed admirably, Mr. Zod. Your restraint was noted."
Superman nods respectfully. "Did we lose anyone?"
Torres shakes her head. "Not this time."
The intercom chimes. "Janeway to Engineering. Mr. Zod, report to the bridge when ready. You've earned a seat at the table."
He looks to Tuvok and Torres, uncertain. "I'm... not Starfleet."
Tuvok responds with Vulcan calm. "Your actions were in accordance with Starfleet principles. That is sufficient for the Captain."
Torres smirks. "Welcome to the crew, even if just for today."
Superman straightens, his voice calm but resolute. "Then let's help her get us all home."
INT. BRIDGE – U.S.S. VOYAGER
Janeway turns as the turbolift doors open. Superman steps forward in his Kryptonian suit of arms. Though even Superman doesn't realize it's a battle suit.
Janeway regards him with quiet respect. "You've just helped us survive a place that eats ships for breakfast. I'd say that earns you more than a passing thanks."
Superman nods modestly. "Just glad I could help."
She gestures toward the vast blackness on the viewscreen where allied ships now hold formation beside Voyager.
"Welcome to The Void, Mr. Zod. Let's see if together, we can bring a little light to it."
Superman gazes out, eyes reflecting the dim glow of the alliance vessels.
For the first time since entering the Delta Quadrant's darkest corner, Voyager is not alone.