The Murdered Sun - Christie Golden [3]
Tom Paris, on the other hand, tried hard to look wise, but by the way he kept glancing back and forth at the others, Janeway knew that he wasn't quite putting two and two together. She suspected that Paris, capable and occasionally brilliant as he was, hadn't put studying first on his priority list at Starfleet Academy.
"This sort of activity generally indicates a black hole rather than a wormhole," she explained.
"Although the readings for the two phenomena are not entirely dissimilar," put in Tuvok. "For many decades it was widely believed that a wormhole could not exist outside of a black hole."
Paris snorted slightly. "A wormhole inside a black hole is about as helpful as no wormhole at all. We might get back to the Alpha Quadrant, but we'd be an awful mess by the time we got there."
Janeway strode down to her chair and seated herself, crossing her legs and settling in. "Lieutenant Paris does have a point.
We've been closer than we'd like to singularities before," she said.
"Mr. Kim, how far out of our way would following up on this take us?"
Kim glanced down. "Not far at all, Captain. We're almost heading directly for it as is."
Janeway made her decision. "Then let's go check it out. Mr. Paris, make adjustments to our course and take us to it."
Paris was already in his seat, his knowledgeable fingers flying with practiced ease over the controls. "Course adjusted, Captain."
Janeway stifled a yawn. "Let's go slowly. Drop to warp two.
Mr. Kim, keep your eyes glued to your controls. I want to be able to see that thing coming long before we get anywhere near it, is that understood?"
"Yes, ma'am--Captain," Kim hastily corrected. Janeway didn't glance back at her Operations officer; she didn't need to see him to know that he'd be blushing at his slip of the tongue. Janeway always preferred "Captain" to "ma'am."
She settled down to wait. After a while, Janeway fought back another yawn. Now that the initial excitement was fading, she realized just how tired she was from a long night of... well, of not sleeping. She had just risen, about to give Chakotay the bridge and head into her ready room for an increasingly rare cup of hot black coffee, when Kim's voice halted her.
"Captain... I'm picking up readings of debris ahead."
"Slow to impulse. Put it on screen." At first glance, there appeared to be nothing other than the comforting, familiar starfield.
"Magnify."
Now Janeway and the others could see them--the blasted, broken remains of what had once been vessels of some sort. Engrossed, Janeway leaned forward in her chair.
"I don't like the look of this. Not one bit." She hit her comm badge.
"Janeway to Neelix." There was a long pause. "Neelix, come in please."
"Captain," came the Talaxian's normally chipper voice, thick and slurry with sleep, "do you have any idea what time it is?"
She heard a chuckle from Tom Paris, but she wasn't amused at all.
"It's time for you to come up to the bridge and answer some questions for me," she retorted, an irritated edge creeping into her voice.
There was a soft, female murmur--Kes's quiet voice, doubtless urging him to comply--and finally Neelix growled, "Very well. On my way."
Janeway stood and planted her hands on her hips, her chin tilted up in an unconscious gesture of defiance. She strode toward the screen, her gaze roving over the corpses of ships whose pilots and crew had long since disappeared. They whirled past the Voyager in the cold silence of space, drifting close to the ship's shields before being gently repelled.
"Mr. Tuvok, analysis." She did not take her eyes from the screen.
"Some of this debris has been floating here for a very long time," replied the Vulcan, his alert mind working and analyzing almost as swiftly as the computer. "The further we go toward this disturbance, the newer the debris becomes. Judging from the rate of drift, I would estimate that all of these ships met their fate in Section 4039."