Seven of Nine - Christie Golden [22]
"To hell with the stationmaster," snapped the captain, settling into her chair. "I want to know who's firing on us without provocation."
"I think you're about to find out," said Kim, glancing up from his console with an anxious look on his handsome face. "We're being hailed."
"Onscreen." Janeway took a deep, calming breath, but her eyes still snapped fire.
The breath caught in her throat. Before her on the screen was a giant insect. Its multifaceted eyes glittered and its mandibles clicked open and closed. It wore no clothing-with a strong exoskeleton it needed no such artificial protection from the elements-but there were bright splashes of paint on its body.
Janeway suppressed a deeply bred shudder of revulsion. These weren't bugs, they were people. She had to make sure she remembered that.
"I'm Captain Kathryn Janeway, of the Federation starship Voyager. Who are you and why have you fired on my vessel?"
The creature's antennae waved and its black, spine covered legs moved.
Its mandibles clicked rapidly.
The computer translated its voice as best it could, rendering it flat and mechanical-sounding: "I am Kraa T'Krr, and I have come for the Skedans."
"ON WHOSE AUTHORITY?" DEMANDED JANEWAY. SHE narrowed her eyes and stuck her chin out defiantly.
"That does not concern you," came the metallic sounding reply.
"Oh, but I think it does." Her voice was deceptively mild. Inside, she was furious. "You open fire on my ship, you demand our passengers, and you won't even tell me who wants them or why?"
"Precisely."
She turned to Kim and raised an eyebrow. The years spent serving with his captain were not wasted; Janeway knew her young ensign knew every pression that flitted across her face when she was on the bridge. He got the message, ran his fingers over the console and said, "Audio silenced."
"Keep trying to raise the stationmaster, but do so unobtrusively. I want to know what she knows about this. We could have walked unwittingly into a dispute of some kind." He nodded and restored audio.
"I'm a reasonable person. Let's discuss this. Have the Skedans committed any crime?" Janeway continued.
Kraa's antennae waved furiously. He turned and gestured with a long black foreleg to someone off screen. The screen went blank, revealing only the ominous little ship floating against a field of bright stars.
"They're firing," said Tuvok. The shields were already up so his captain merely nodded. The blast rocked the vessel.
"Damage report?"
"Shields down ten percent. Minor injuries reported from decks seven and fourteen," replied Tuvok.
"Hail the alien vessel," Janeway snapped. "When I talk, I want him listening."
"Channel open, Captain."
"Kraa, you are doing nothing to convince me to turn over my friends and everything to convince me we should attack you in turn. Either you give me a good reason to-" "Firing again." Tuvok's voice was calm, as ever.
"That does it," muttered Janeway. "You want a fight, we'll give you one. Red alert! Battle stations!"
Immediately, the bridge darkened and a crimson glow replaced the normal lighting. "Tuvok, target their engines and weapons systems and fire at will. Harry, get me Stationmaster Vooria now. There's obviously been some sort of mistake.
I don't like mistakes, especially when they mean my ship's in danger."
She sat erect in her chair, watching with grim determination as Tuvok fired. Red phaser energy screamed across space, striking its target but doing little damage. The ship, oval and as black and shiny as its occupants, executed a smooth roll and came back firing.
"Shields down seventeen percent," droned Tuvok.
"Minor damage to the port nacelle."
"Harry-" "Onscreen," replied the en sip. At once, the Lhiaarian official with whom they had planned to meet just a few short minutes ago appeared on the screen.
As good servants of the empire, each planet tended to use its own indigenous populace