The Murdered Sun - Christie Golden [29]
"Captain, many Native American tribes share that sentiment. I understand that a sun can be a huge ball of burning hydrogen, yet have a spirit. I think like the Verunans. That can only be an asset. If we analyze their tales, their mythos--" "--We might find some cold, hard realities that could help us," finished Janeway, her face beginning to share some of the excitement of Chakotay's. "Very well, Commander. You may join them. Now, let's start putting these plans into action. Mr. Tuvok, the bridge is yours. Ensign Kim, prepare to send Viha Nata the communication from the downed ship. Everyone else, to your stations."
Viha Nata's image disappeared. Everyone rose at once, chattering among themselves. Paris lingered behind, gathering his thoughts and not wishing to talk with anyone else.
But it was not to be. Janeway waited for him outside, walked with him across the bridge, and accompanied him into the elevator. "Transporter room two," she instructed.
Paris stood quietly, his hands behind his back. "Something's bothering you about this, Tom. What is it? Do you find their appearance repugnant?"
"Is it that obvious?"
Janeway smiled kindly. "If you know what to look for," she answered gently.
Paris shrugged, feeling awkward and defensive. "I won't let it interfere with my duties if that's what you're worried about."
"Of course you won't. You're a good officer. It's natural to be uncomfortable around races that we're not familiar with, especially ones that appear unattractive to our human aesthetics.
You'll get used to it over time."
"It's foolish. I just... they're like overgrown lizards or something."
Janeway smiled a small, secret smile. "I happen to like lizards myself."
CHAPTER 6
Harry Kim hated his envirosuit.
Intellectually, he understood and appreciated its many protective functions. He was aware of how much lighter, efficient, and maneuverable it was compared to the bulky "space suits" of the early spaceflight era. And he knew that it was without question a necessity; his examination of conditions aboard the Conquest had established that beyond doubt.
But all that didn't mean he had to like it. It made him feel confined, trapped in its head-to-toe swath of protective material. The gravity boots on his feet, here in the one g gravity of Voyager, felt unbelievably awkward. A quick glance over at B'Elanna Torres showed that the chief engineer, too, disliked the necessity of the suit. But it was the only way they would be able to survive on the Akerian vessel.
He was nowhere near as wide-eyed, as fragile and green, as he had been when he first boarded Voyager. But he couldn't even fake the calm, steady movements of his captain and the security guard, both of whom were old hats at this sort of thing. They were about to board a hostile alien vessel that had no life-support on it for the purpose of obtaining information they didn't have from computers they'd never seen.
Harry Kim couldn't not be at least a little bit excited.
Moving slowly and awkwardly, the four crew members positioned themselves on the transporter pads. The security guard checked his phaser and held it at the ready. Janeway, Torres, and, belatedly, Kim turned on their wristlights.
Kim's heart began to pound hard as Janeway ordered, "Energize."
An instant later, they stood on an alien bridge. They had been right to come fully prepared, Kim thought to himself as he glanced around.
This place was a wreck. Lights flickered on and off in a disconcerting, random pattern. Kim moved his wristlight about, revealing an enormous room filled with hard, black, practical-looking furnishings and consoles. There was little of Voyager's sleek grace apparent here. Like the outside, the bridge of the Conquest bespoke brutal efficiency.
Right now, though, that brutal efficiency had been broken by Voyager's attack. Smoke obscured Kim's vision, wafting past in a thick, slow cloud. The ends of wires bobbed, floating