Equinox - Diane Carey [39]
"None. Not even nonrandom impulses. We've had a team working on it, but I had to take them off it for a while and have them help the deflector crew. Everyone's stretched thin either salvaging Equinox or trying to keep our shields up and our propulsion units on-line in case we might be able to outrun them."
Janeway tried to keep a leash on her dividing thoughts. "If they exist on an astral plane that parallels ours with some kind of folding effect, outrunning them may not be an option. They might be on a permanent wormhole that could stretch one mile for them and ten thousand light-years for us."
"That means we fight." His words were steady, though significant with perception of how very long a fight that could be.
"Yes," Janeway uttered, "or we communicate. That's an imperative."
"Not everything communicates," he pointed out in a slightly warning tone. With one elbow pressed to the chair, he tried to be casual. "There's a big range between swarming and sentient."
She held out a hand. "They're intelligent. They changed their tactics. They learned that by concentrating their efforts on one shield, they could get it to fold. They learned. They aren't just attacking anything they see. Not only learning, but learning something technical."
'Technical to us," Chakotay focused. "Maybe to them, shield energy is as natural as silk to a spider. They do have that natural nucleogenic base, and it would take us tremendous technology to duplicate it."
Sniggering doubts entered her star system. 'True, I suppose ... or they might actually be smart and it just looks natural to us."
"Does this mean," Chakotay began, "you're questioning Ransom's interpretation of the Prime Directive?"
Unwilling to say that straight out, Janeway hesitated. "They might be a nasty civilization, but if they are a civilization, then the directive applies."
His eyes swept the lovely vista out the viewport behind her. "We can say that when we're standing behind intact shields and we can go have a hot dinner in a clean mess hall."
"I don't know, Chakotay." Tense, Janeway sank back into her chair, feeling as if she were shrinking. "Something's wrong."
Purposefully he leaned back too, but in a more relaxed way, probably hoping to telepathically get her to do the same. "Is there something I don't know?" he asked. "W hat kind of 'something' are we discussing?"
Janeway inhaled a choppy breath of the fresh air, noting that there was a slight rise in temperature. The air in here wasn't as crisp and cool as usual. The ship was stressed, selectively preferring some systems over others.
"I wish I were sure of things," she vented. "Is there an animal spirit guide to walk me through a relationship with another captain who might end up living in my house for the rest of my life?"
"Doesn't seem like you'd need advice. Not you."
She laughed. "What does that mean, not me? Oh, don't answer. Have I been so far removed from dealing with other Starfleet officers that Ransom's reactions strike me as too accommodating?"
"You mean giving up his ship?"
"Of course," she said. Instantly she wanted to bite back her tone, but too late. Narrowing her eyes, she
sought his dark gaze and the pool-quiet passiveness that always underpinned his attitude. "Wouldn't you have struggled a little?"
"I'd have struggled a lot," he offered. "There's no measuring what he's been through or what it does to a man to lose half his crew. Maybe he kept fighting because he had to, without the passion for command. We've relieved him of having to carry the load anymore."
"Mmm," she responded dully. "I'm afraid I'm being too hard on him."
Chakotay paused and thought. "I don't think he sees it that way."
Shifting her aching back, Janeway felt her stomach tense. "I've never usurped another captain's command before. Oh, it's one thing to have the authority or even the tactical advantage. It's something else to tell a captain with a viable ship that it's time to dump it. How long before someone has to tell me that?"
"There's another problem, too."