Mosaic - Jeri Taylor [40]
"Repairs still under way, Captain. Warp engines are still down, but impulse could be on-line shortly. The weapons array is partially restored; we have one phaser bank operative."
"Any sign of the Kazon?"
"As far as we can tell, they're still in orbit of the planet. This nebula fogs up the sensor readings a bit, so we can't track them as accurately as I'd like."
Janeway sat at her chair. "Bridge to Engineering."
"Torres here, Captain," a voice answered. Janeway had no doubt that B'Elanna Torres, the half-Klingon chief of Engineering, had been hard at it since the attack.
"What's your closest estimate on impulse capability?"
"Within the hour."
"And warp drive?"
There was a silence. Then, somewhat carefully, "I'm not sure. We're having some problems."
Janeway thought it through. They couldn't show their face to the Kazon without warp capability and with only one phaser bank. They would be completely vulnerable. Better to take a little more time and get every system working.
"Keep me posted, Lieutenant," she said, and signed off. She had just turned to Chakotay when Tom Paris interrupted, urgency in his voice. "Captain, we've got activity in the nebula. It's a ship."
"Kazon?"
"I think so. In this soup it's hard to tell for sure."
Janeway's mind raced. Without weapons, without warp, with sensors inaccurate, it was folly to try to engage the enemy. They were going to have to be the fox in this hunt.
"Go to minimum energy signature. Shipwide. Set shields to scatter active scans." As soon as she'd spoken, lights began to blink out and there was a decline in the ambient hum that always accompanied life on Voyager. Consoles flickered to darkness; only a few dim emergency lights near the deck provided illumination. It was a ghostly atmosphere. But with all systems off-line except lifesupport and passive sensors, they would be almost impossible to detect. Now, they simply had to wait and hope the Kazon would tire of the hunt and go away.
Jal Sittik stood in the midst of an overgrown copse, trying not to let his men know how perplexed he was. The Federations were proving remarkably elusive. First they had vanished into the depths of a thick grove of trees and brush that Sittik, following, had found impenetrable; then they reappeared on the other side of the copse, almost within view, registering clearly on his sensing indicator.
His squad should have overtaken them easily. But they were nowhere to be seen, and had all but disappeared from the indicators. Sittik put his hands on his hips again, a pose of confidence that he felt would satisfy his men while he tried to decide what to do now. But to his irritation Jal Miskk approached.
Miskk's headdress was only slightly less elaborate than his own, another fact that irritated Sittik. He believed Miskk cheated with his markers, claiming kills that were not personally his, but those of the entire ship. Sittik would personally never stoop to such deception, and it annoyed him that others might think that Miskk could claim anywhere near the number of kills that he had.
Miskk now looked at him with a gaze that was unmistakably insolent. "Well," he sneered, "where are they?"
Sittik glared at him, swelling his chest as much as possible in order to intimidate Miskk. "Are you saying you don't know?" he sneered right back. Miskk's eyes narrowed and the two men stared at each other, the challenge charging the air between them. Sittik enjoyed these moments, for he had a stare that could wither even the most arrogant of his comrades. And, after a moment, Miskk looked away. Sittik crowed inwardly, a silent cry of victory. He loved conquest. The moment caused him to envision briefly the barely clad bodies of the women who would be awaiting his triumphant return to their colony.
He swept his sensing indicator along the horizon, arm extended fully-a gesture of power. His men would see his strength, his confidence, and realize