Day of Honor - Michael Jan Friedman [64]
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"That turbulence damaged my suit, too," she said. "I should still have at least twenty-four hours' worth of oxygen…"
"But?" he prodded.
B'Elanna's face was as devoid of color as he had ever seen it. "But there's only about a half hour left."
Paris cursed beneath his breath. This wasn't good, he thought. This wasn't good at all.
Janeway and Seven of Nine had been at it for over an hour.
They had been sitting side by side in the captain's ready room, making computations on their padds and comparing them, trying to figure out what could have gone wrong with Voyager's attempt to open a transwarp conduit.
To that point, they hadn't found a thing.
Janeway was completing a calculation when Vorik's
voice interrupted her. "Engineering to Captain
Janeway."
"Yes, Ensign?" the captain responded.
"I'm pleased to inform you that we are making excellent progress. Impulse power should be restored within the hour."
"Good news," said Janeway. "Very good news. Let me know as soon as the engines are on-line again."
"Yes, ma'am."
Just then, Seven of Nine raised her head.
"Captain…"
Janeway looked into the Borg's eyes and saw a flicker of discovery there. "What is it?" she asked eagerly.
Seven of Nine handed the captain her padd. Janeway took it and studied the figures on it with interest.
"I believe I've found the cause of the accident," said the Borg. "Erratic fluctuations in the ship's warp power output."
"Fluctuations…" Janeway muttered.
She saw them now in the midst of all the other information. Unfortunately, they had been within established tolerances, so they hadn't set off an alarm or otherwise called attention to themselves.
"When the tachyon levels rose to a resonant frequency," Seven of Nine explained, "core pressure increased-"
"Exponentially," the captain said. "And the magnetic flow field constricted at the same rate."
The Borg nodded. "Yes."
"Then it was an accident," Janeway concluded triumphantly.
She slumped in her seat, relieved. She hadn't
wanted to believe Seven of Nine was responsible for the incident-and now, with the answer in hand, she didn't have to.
Her door chimed, drawing her attention. "Come in," she said.
The door slid aside, revealing Janeway's first officer. He looked worried about something.
"Captain, we just picked up a carrier wave with a Starfleet signature. I'd guess it's Tom and B'Elanna ... but they're not answering our hails."
Janeway nodded. "They may be in trouble. As soon as we get impulse power back, we'll-"
She never finished her sentence. It was interrupted by Tuvok's intercom voice. "Tvok to the captain. Can you come to the bridge?"
Janeway exchanged looks with Chakotay, and then with Seven of Nine. "On my way," she replied.
The three of them filed out onto the bridge. Yim, who was manning the ops station, was as serious as Janeway had ever seen him.
Tuvok barked out his report. "We're being approached by an armada of Caatati ships. I count twenty-seven of them."
"They're hailing us," Kim announced.
Janeway turned to the forward viewscreen, wondering what this could be about. "On screen, Mr. Kim."
Abruptly, the Caatati named Lumas appeared on the screen. "Hello, Captain," he said. "We meet again."
"You've brought some friends," she pointed out.
Lumas smiled a hollow smile. "Needy friends, I
fear. We're hoping you will offer us more sufs plies."
Janeway gathered herself. She could see where this was going. "I made it clear last time that we couldn't possibly provide enough for all your ships. Our resources are limited."
"And I had to accept that, because your ship was more powerful than mine," Lumas told her. "But the situation has changed, hasn't it? You're at a disadvantage now. We have your warp core."
Janeway glanced at Tuvok. He confirmed the boast with a subtle nod. Cursing silently, the captain turned to Lumas again.
"So we both know you can't escape," the Caatati told her. "I'm hoping that will make you ... shall