The Murdered Sun - Christie Golden [4]
"Directly where we're heading," said Chakotay softly.
"Precisely." Tuvok's smooth, dark face was as tranquil as if he had just emerged from a deep meditation.
Janeway envied him his composure. She took a deep breath. "How technologically advanced are these ships? Any theories as to what destroyed them?"
"If you are asking if our vessel is technologically superior, the answer is yes. I am unable to determine the method of their destruction at the present time. I do not have enough information to extrapolate."
"Captain," interrupted Kim, "we're being hailed. There's some sort of vessel up ahead--about twenty thousand kilometers away."
"On screen." There it was, a knobby, diamond-shaped buoy made of a dull gray material. "Where the hell is Neelix when you need--there you are!"
Neelix still looked as if he had just woken up. His horsetail hair was unbrushed and stuck out wildly, and the side whiskers that were his pride and joy had not been combed. He blinked sleepily, but he was, fortunately, adequately dressed.
"Yes, yes," he grumbled, padding down to join Janeway in front of the screen, "here I am, at your beck and--oh, my."
He froze as he glanced casually up at the screen. His small, yellow eyes grew enormous, and his mouth dropped.
"Open a hailing frequency, Mr. Kim," said Janeway, her mental warning alarms going off like mad. "Let's see what this buoy has to say to us."
Kim obliged. There was a few seconds' silence while the translator speedily dealt with deciphering a completely unknown language by cross-referencing and adjusting faster than any human mind could calculate. The quiet pause seemed unduly long to Janeway, but finally the computer was able to play the message in English.
Words emerged, the computer rendering them neutral against the hostile sound of the speaker's natural voice--a voice that was closer to an animal's bellow than to what issued from a human throat. The sound rumbled, still audible beneath the message, deep and gravelly, as if the communication had been torn from a throat that was more accustomed to roaring in wordless fury than in rasping out a coherent message.
"Attention, alien vessel. You have violated Akerian space.
Retreat immediately. We will not tolerate trespassers. You will be destroyed. Attention, alien vessel. You have violated Akerian space.
Retreat--" "Turn it off, Mr. Kim," snapped the captain. "I've heard enough." The unpleasant voice stilled at once. Janeway leveled her piercing gaze upon the Talaxian, who almost literally shrank away from it. "Neelix, I take it you know these... people."
Beneath his spots, the little alien grew pale. "Um, well, I've never had the dubious pleasure of actually meeting an Akerian, if that's what you mean."
A vein pulsed in Janeway's temple, prompted by a dull pain. She really ought to have had a cup of coffee if she expected to be fully awake at this hour. Knowing how clipped her voice sounded, she nevertheless continued. "What do you know about them? You recognized this buoy."
She pointed at the lumpy metal object, still twirling in the silent darkness of space, presumably continuing to emit its obstreperous message.
"Um... yes, yes, I do. They post these warning buoys at each quarter of their space. The Akerian Empire is to be respected, Captain. I suggest you show some respect and vacate this sector." He paused.
"Immediately would be good."
"Neelix, we think there's a wormhole in this sector," Chakotay put in.
"We'll need to know more about them before we go anywhere." He glanced over at Janeway--Did I overstep?--and she gave him a slight gesture of approval.
"Commander Chakotay is correct."
Neelix sighed and plopped himself down in the chair to Janeway's left.
His feet didn't even reach the floor. "Well, as I said, they're an empire. Their technology is about the level of ours, though as I've often said, the Voyager is the finest vessel in a hundred light-years."
"Go ahead," said Janeway coolly. She was not about