Caretaker - L. A. Graf [55]
Neelix waved down the dry riverbed toward the camp. "They are."
He started forward without waiting for them, rubbing his hands with excitement. "Kazon sect controls this part of the quadrant.
Some have water, some have ore, some have food. They all trade, and they all try to kill each other."
They sounded like a lovely people. Janeway motioned everyone to follow on Neelix's heels as more and more Kazon spilled out into the sun, their weapons drawn. "I thought you said the Ocampa had our people."
He waved off her question with brusque impatience, and Janeway exchanged a questioning look with Tuvok as the little alien scurried forward to meet the oncoming crowd of growling Kazon.
"My friends! It's good to see you again!" The Vulcan studiously gave no hint as to what he thought of Neelix's peremptory behavior, but Janeway hadn't been his commander so long for nothing. In whatever arcane way Vulcan body language seemed to work, she'd already gotten the distinct impression that Tuvok didn't care for Neelix overmuch.
Apparently, his dislike of the little alien wasn't so uncommon a thing.
Kazon surged around him with an angry roar, hefting him into the air above their heads and shaking him the way a dog shakes a well-mangled toy as they chanted and shouted and danced back toward the village.
Janeway put out a hand to stop Paris from drawing his phaser as even more of the natives swept into a ring around the landing party. In another few minutes, she promised him silently, our Universal Translators should kick in.
Then we can talk to them. In the meantime, they had the option of beaming out no matter how many Kazon surrounded them, and there was no way the Kazon could suspect that. Janeway had no intention of starting a war with these people if she could avoid it--not while they might be the only link to finding Kim and Torres. Holding her arms wide to let the Kazon disarm her without a fight, Janeway kept a steady eye on Paris and Chakotay to make sure they did the same, however grudgingly.
A few more minutes...
"Wait! Wait!" Neelix's cry sounded like a pig's squealing, although Janeway suspected he was trying for an undertone of friendly laughter.
"Yes, it's always wonderful to be back with you," he enthused as the mob carried him roughly into the outskirts of camp, "but I must speak with your Maje, the ever-wise Jabin--!"
One of the Kazon women--a whipcord demon with eyes as black as jet--yanked Neelix by the collar until he fell with a grunt at the base of a crumbling wall, where she could yell at him unobstructed by the others. "Very amusing," he coughed, scrabbling to his knees. "Very amusing--I enjoy a joke as much as the next man--" He looked up into the line of primitive rifles directed at his face, and an unexpected spasm of happiness flashed across his features. "Jabin! My old friend!"
Janeway turned in unison with the rest of the Kazon, leaving only the black-eyed female to rant at Neelix and slap at his head.
Near the back of the crowd, a tall, big-handed man as dark and cracked as the dirt pushed his way forward. From the hateful glimmer in his eyes, he would have bitten Neelix in half with his own teeth as soon as look at him. Snapping an order to the impromptu firing squad, he smiled thinly across their heads at Neelix and lifted his arm in the universal signal.
"Water!" Neelix blurted, his voice squeezed into a frightened squeak.
"I have water to replace all that I borrowed!"
The Kazon froze, eyes eager at the prospect of slaking their thirst, and looked back toward Jabin. Their leader stood equally unmoving, but Janeway could see the storms of thought raging just behind his eyes.