Death of a Neutron Star - Eric Kotani [4]
Tom Paris watched as the bay doors closed behind the flowing lines of the Qavok yacht. He'd seen a lot of beautiful ships, but this one was right up there near the top of the list. He wanted to just go over and stroke the gold- and silver-plated surface. Even sitting on the deck, the ship looked as if it wanted to fly, as if it were speeding through a blue sky over a calm ocean.
But he didn't move. Instead he stood waiting alone as the door in the side of the yacht slid silently open and Lieutenant Tyla stepped out onto the deck, followed by a Lekk man.
Tom felt the tightness in his chest as Tyla stopped and looked around the bay, then turned and strode toward him. She was gorgeous, in a dark red tunic and black tights. The tunic accented her bright red hair. Even more beautiful than she had appeared on the screen.
Behind him the door to the shuttlebay slid open and Seven of Nine entered, moving to his side.
He forced himself to swallow and then smile, making sure Tyla had a friendly face to greet her.
"Welcome to Voyager," he said, stepping forward and extending his hand.
The vivacious redhead grasped his arm firmly when he extended his hand toward her. Apparently, an arm-grasp, quite similar to that practiced in ancient Rome, was the Lekk custom of greeting, at least in their military.
"I'm Lieutenant Paris. Tom," he said. "Welcome aboard Voyager."
"Second Lieutenant Tyla of the Lekk Deep Space Force," she said. Her gaze held his for a moment, and then she smiled. "A real pleasure!"
Turning toward her passenger, she added, "This is Dr. Maalot, ship's astrophysicist."
"Seven of Nine," Tom said, taking a deep breath and forcing himself to do his share of introductions.
"A Borg?" Maalot asked, somewhat shocked.
"I was with the Collective, once," Seven said. "I am no longer."
Tom managed not to smile. He'd seen Seven go through this sort of introduction a number of times now.
Maalot nodded; then with one long, last gaze at Seven, he turned back toward Tom.
"Lieutenant Paris," Tyla said, moving to a more formal posture. "I must report to your captain. I have important information your ship will need if the Qavoks return in force."
"I don't see a problem with that," Tom said, smiling at Tyla. "But first the captain ordered me to see to it that you two receive medical attention, if needed."
"Thank you, Lieutenant," Tyla said, relaxing a little and touching his arm again. "But we are fine. We are most anxious to talk to your captain immediately."
Tom wished he had an excuse to delay her for just a little while longer. But duty called.
"And your science officer," Dr. Maalot said. "Since much of my report is of an astrophysical nature, I will need to talk to a science officer."
"I think the captain will, most likely, be the best person on both counts."
"I will also be able to supply needed information," Seven said.
"Good," Dr. Maalot said, again glancing somewhat fearfully at the Borg. "There isn't much time left."
Paris glanced at Tyla, who only shrugged. "He's right."
"I think Voyager can handle the Qavok ships," Tom said.
"It's not the ships I'm worried about," Dr. Maalot said. "It's the dying neutron stars."
Seven stepped forward suddenly and faced Dr. Maalot, towering over him. "Explain."
Tom pulled Seven back gently by the arm. "I think it would be better to tell it all to the captain."
Seven glanced at Tom, then nodded and turned toward the bay entrance without saying a word.
Tyla and Dr. Maalot both looked a little shocked.
Tom smiled and shrugged. "She gets a little excited when science comes up."
"So should we all, Mr. Paris," said Maalot, whose tone reminded Tom of one of his stuffier professors at the Academy.
"Uh, yes, well Please come this way," he