The Murdered Sun - Christie Golden [33]
She was willing to bet that when all four were active they were connected by beams that served to focus power toward the center, and that was what created the powerful force of the gravity wave.
Again, Janeway recalled the six small pods, performing a similar dance of destruction. She pointed her tricorder at the graviton generators, recording an active cycle, then turned her gaze toward the third level, situated directly below where she stood.
There, she caught glimpses of more levitating corpses. She steeled herself to look beyond them, but a cursory visual examination yielded little of value. None of the strange equipment would make any sense without detailed examination.
They were here to get the information from the computer, and that was whence their knowledge of this culture would finally come.
Her tricorder sensors, like those aboard Voyager, were not up to one hundred percent accuracy, but Janeway trusted them when they revealed that a force field was in place about five meters directly in front of her. It would make sense. If the Conquest were to receive a direct hit on this clear shield, the consequences would be devastating if there was no backup protection system in place. She suspected that, like the light that flickered on and off and the computer that was still operational, this field had been programmed to withstand an inordinate amount of damage to the ship.
The vista of stars moved slowly as the ship turned in space. Now Voyager came into view. Janeway's heart quickened at the sight of her vessel. She didn't often get to see her ship like this.
She knew Voyager from the inside out, mostly. Certainly, she'd studied her construction, knew her functions almost better than the specific chiefs did. But it was a rare treat, this view from the bridge of an alien ship. She admired her sleek, clean lines, the softness of her curving saucer section, the simple elegance of her.
She spoke often of the "return home," back to the Alpha Quadrant.
For her, that meant Mark and Molly Malone. But home, in a sense, would always be the ship. Some people had adventure and traveling in their blood. Much as she loved Mark and the laughing-eyed Irish setter, Voyager was as much home to her as any building could be.
Kim's voice cut into her thoughts. "Transmission complete, Captain."
Reluctantly, Janeway turned from the railing and the spectacular view of stars and ship it afforded.
"Then let's get back to our own ship and leave Conquest to her dead."
She tapped her comm badge. "Janeway to Voyager. Two to beam over."
***
Second Warrior Garai studied his commander without appearing to.
He had learned, after many cycles of working closely with the first warrior of the Empirical Exploratory Unit, to read Linneas accurately, despite the lack of facial expression or hand or tail gestures. The commander's voice often gave him away. The way he held his body, suited thought it might be in armor and topped with the all-concealing mask that none of them ever removed save in private, also revealed more than it hid.
Because they were away from family and home so often, the warriors tended to form their own close-knit units. Second Warrior Garai looked upon First Warrior Commander Linneas as kin.
Which was why the recent behavior of the first warrior was so disturbing.
Now, as he sat in front of the curving console of Victory and stared through the huge window as the stars went streaking by, Linneas drummed his gloved fingers on the smooth, black surface.
The click of claws came, even through the gloves. His body was rigid with tension, and the sharp ears of Garai could hear him snorting a little from time to time--a sure sign of distress.
Casually, Garai inclined his head, feigning a stretch. He tilted his