A retake of the episode Caretaker. The force of the Caretaker array killed all of the senior officers on Voyager, only leaving behind Ensigns, Crewmen, and the lower ranks. Taking the role as Captain, A certain young Ensign will try to get his crew home.

Disclaimer: I don't own Voyager, Star Trek or any character from the show, only the people and situations that I create.

A/N Ahhh, just in time for the holidays. I know I said in Annika and the Emissary that i was done writing at least for a long good while, but I was reading a story some time ago that the author abandoned and it was such a good story that I didn't want to see it die. I've changed some things about the story but I kept the integrity of what he wrote the same. I'll explain more about that at the end of the chapter. I kept getting pm's saying that people wanted me to do a Doctor Who crossover well the final arc of this story has a Doctor Who crossover event so you've finally gotten your wish.

Prologue

Red Alert.

That was the first thing Harry heard as he struggled to come back into consciousness. The agonizing sound of the red alert klaxon, wailing over and over, hurting as if someone jammed something sharp into his ears. His body finally responding to his minds command he rolled over on his back, groaned, opened his eyes and stared up at the flickering overhead lights of the bridge. His head hurt like hell and there was a splitting, throbbing, dull pain that shot up behind his eyes that went along with the rhythm of the flickering lights that shone overhead.

Red Alert.

Shaking his head, his thoughts suddenly tried to come back to him as he struggled to remember what threw him to the deck in the first place. Without his body giving him any warning, he was overcome by a sudden wave of nausea. His body's reflexes kicked in but he was still barely able to turn his head so he could throw up the lunch he had earlier, before reporting to duty.

As he stopped vomiting, his stomach churned once again, before settling. Rolling onto his back again, his limited knowledge of medical training from the Academy suddenly surfaced in the forefront of his mind. Dizziness, pain, ringing in his ear, sensitivity to light, nausea, vomiting, confusion and amnesia. All those things could mean only one thing.

Concussion. It was definitely a concussion.

Red Alert.

Getting the feeling back into his body, he steeled himself and rolled over, trying as hard as he could to push himself up. To his immediate horror, pain shot up his arm and he collapsed face down on the deck.

Damn it! He thought harshly to himself. How long have I been here and why isn't anyone helping me?

As he thought that, he looked back up at the ceiling and saw that the lights had settled into a dim glow. Just that little thing made his headache not seem so bad, even though it wasn't getting any better. Not sensing anyone rushing over to help him, he took a deep breath and with his right arm, grabbed his console and managed to get to his knees. Bracing himself for the wave of nausea that again washed over him, he suddenly remembered a little of what happened.

Voyager was in the Badlands, looking for the Maquis, and a coherent tetryon beam started to scan the ship in that weird, dangerous part of space. And then what happened? he asked himself as his eyes went wide for a second. There was a bright white light and the ship started shaking… And then came a loud sound. Of course, the sound. That earsplitting whine, like some kind of amplified feedback. I was bracing myself. He was falling, and he had stuck out his arm to brace himself, and he landed wrong and hit his head. And that's when the ship threw him to the deck, and then nothing.

Using that memory as motivation, as the ships Operation manager, it was his duty to find out what was wrong with the ship. In order for him to do that, he needed to get off his knees and go do his job. With a wince, he grabbed the console again and hoped that he wouldn't pass out. Once he was sure he wouldn't, he climbed to his feet and leaned against the console trying hard to catch his breath as the red alert klaxons wailed on.

Looking down Harry caught his reflection in a dead control panel, cracked horizontally along its entire length. His left arm looked to be hanging awkwardly and he knew that he needed to get to sickbay soon, but first he needed to find out what was going on.

"Harry."

Hearing his name, Harry finally focused and looked around the bridge to see that the forward consoles were spitting sparks, power conduits were venting plasma and after a few tense moments the emergency lights came on. When they did, his heart sank to the pit of his stomach as he saw Captain Janeway laying on the floor with a pool of blood caking up under her and a piece of metal-rebar sticking out of her neck. Whatever disaster had happened, must've thrown her to the floor and had done this to her. Seeing that the man he had met several hours before was by her side, trying to hold her down and keep her calm, Harry rushed over to them.

As Harry knelt down next to the older woman, he met Tom's gaze and knew that Captain Janeway was dying and that there was no way to save her. Not knowing what else to do, he held her hand with his good arm and looked deeply into her eyes. For a dying woman there was a brightness that reflected back from her eyes to his. There was a burning desire in her bluish grey eyes and it was as if she were willing him to do something.

Trying to mutter something, her voice came out as nothing but soft gurgles as blood slowly bubbled up and leaked out of her mouth. With a tear in his eye's Harry and Tom watched as her body quickly shuddered before she released her final breath.

"Captain?" Harry asked, not believing what just happened before him. "Captain!"

"She's dead, Harry." Tom said as softly as he could, over the hiss of a plasma conduit, as he reached down and closed Janeway's eyes. They met under such dire circumstances in one of Starfleet's penal colonies but he didn't want anything like this to happen to her, whether he liked her or not. "And Commander Cavit is dead too."

"What?" Harry asked as he looked up from Janeway's dead body.

"Lieutenant Stadi is badly injured and we need to get her to Sickbay." Tom went on as he stood to his feet and looked around. "Nobody else is badly injured on the bridge so we should probably get a move on."

"Okay." Harry replied with a sigh after a few agonizing seconds of collecting himself. Walking over to the conn, he and Tom knelt down, picked up the unconscious Stadi, and headed towards the turbolift doors. Hopefully someone in charge would do something soon and help to put the pieces of the ship back together so they could find out what was going on.

A/N Now before I go any further with this fic I wanted to explain that in this alternate universe the Caretaker died at the same time he brought Voyager to the Delta Quadrant so things will play out differently as the ship was over shot and landed in a different spot in the Delta Quadrant then on the show. Not to worry though, they will make it to the Array soon enough. Also the beginning parts of this story are actually a retake of a retake. Another author wrote part of this story on another board but he abandoned the fic. I tried to contact him to see if he was either interested in continuing the fic or letting me take a crack at it. He never answered so I decided to take a chance at finishing this story. I made a lot of changes, for example the story was actually supposed to be a Lieutenant version of Janeway taking command of Voyager after it's captain and senior officers were killed. I decided to make the story on Harry instead as a change of pace, so it wouldn't be the same story that he created, even though I'm using a large body of his work for the Caretaker arc. After that it's all my work. To the original author if you're reading this story, if you'd like for me to take this story down let me know and I will. I also wanted this fic to have a more raw grimy feel to it so it's rated M for cursing etc...