Caretaker - L. A. Graf [45]
She should have said no when Starfleet asked her to head up this assignment.
Growling with frustration, she rolled onto her shoulder and covered her face in her hands, trying to grind away the insidious should-haves with the pressure of her fists against her eyes.
Her comm badge chirped and saved her from further self-anger.
"Bridge to Captain Janeway."
Apparently, Tuvok really didn't sleep. "Go ahead." She tried to sound rested and alert, but knew she failed miserably.
"Sorry to bother you, Captain." Tuvok's eloquent way of letting her know he could interpret human tone of voice even if Vulcans chose not to emulate them. "But we've encountered a vessel within a debris field. We're showing a humanoid life-form on board."
"On my way." She rolled to her feet and ran her hands back through her hair. I may not look presentable, but at least I can look driven. She slipped through the door to the bridge while it was still only halfway open. "Hail them."
Rollins turned toward the ops station to comply, and Janeway moved to the foot of the command station to study the image on the main viewscreen. A vast scattering of ships glittered and tumbled among what could only be satellite debris and the remnants of wrecked probes.
A squat, dish-decorated cylinder that looked like nothing so much as Earth's earliest Martian probe drifted behind the skeletal remains of an Exian freighter whose cargo had long since eaten its way through the hull. The thought of there being any sort of humanoid life still living in this dark, silent sargasso chilled her.
The screen brightened abruptly, and a small, dome-headed alien with eyes a strikingly chocolate brown announced, "Whoever you are, I found this waste zone first."
Janeway allowed herself a slight smile. Judging from his stooped shoulders and awkwardly raised chin, there was only so much dignity one could adopt when squeezed into a cabin not even as tall as yourself.
"We're not interested in this debris, Mister..."
He seemed to understand her expectant pause. "Neelix." He introduced himself with a flare of his arms that rapped his knuckles against either wall. "And since you aren't interested in my debris--" A delightful smile split his hairless features.
"--I am delighted to meet you."
"Captain Kathryn Janeway," she replied, more formally, "of the Federation Starship Voyager."
Neelix granted her a courtly nod. "A very impressive title. I have no idea what it means, but it sounds very impressive." He smiled again, and Janeway wondered if he made an effort to sound so eager and funny, or if everyone of his race approached the world with such puppy-dog enthusiasm.
If she had her way, Voyager wouldn't be in this end of the universe long enough to learn the answer.
"Do you know this area of space well, Mr. Neelix?"
"I am famous for knowing it well," he assured her proudly. "How may I be of service?"
She avoided extending a specific request for the moment. "Do you know anything about the Array that's sending energy pulses to the fifth planet?"
An odd, tittering giggle squinted his eyes shut. "I know enough to stay as far away from it as possible." Calming himself, he blinked rapidly as though to clear all the mirth from his vision, then said brightly, "Wait. Let me guess." Somehow, the soft congeniality never seemed to completely leave his tone and eyes.
"You were whisked away from somewhere else in the galaxy, and brought here against your will."
Janeway felt a strange stirring of dread deep inside her. "It sounds as though you've heard this story before."
"Sadly, yes." Neelix sighed. "Thousands of times." Then he shrugged and admitted, "Well, hundreds--maybe fifty times." His preoccupation with accuracy scattered with a wave of his hand.
"The Caretaker has been bringing ships here for months now."
Tuvok made not a sound, but Janeway sensed