The Murdered Sun - Christie Golden [74]
When she deemed it time to bring those wicked-looking claws down on the instrumentation, she'd be as well versed in its use as nearly anyone aboard Voyager.
Takoda, meanwhile, had craned his own long neck to see out the windows.
Paris heard him gasp. "Par-is, they've fired--" The gravity wave shook the little vessel wildly. Paris was nearly flung out of his chair. Scrambling back into his seat, he checked the shields. Down sixteen percent but still holding.
The gravity weapon so beloved of the Akerians might-do nothing to Voyager, but Paris now knew that his smaller craft was vulnerable.
"Keep an eye on them for me, Takoda," he instructed the pilot.
Voyager was only a few hundred kilometers away. Paris slowed to full impulse, feeling Kaavi's eyes watching every move he made.
He didn't mind.
Suddenly he swore as the bigger vessel dodged to starboard, away from them. Voyager fired, apparently only a few meters over the top of the shuttlecraft. An explosion flashed briefly somewhere to the shuttlecraft's stern.
He opened his mouth to ask Takoda what had happened, but the Verunan beat him to it. "Your ship has just destroyed the Akerian vessel's pods."
"Too close for comfort," muttered Paris, then aloud to the comm link, "Captain, I'm beginning to think you don't like me."
"We don't," quipped Chakotay's voice, "but we'll hold our position here for a few seconds. Hurry, Lieutenant."
Paris glanced again at his sensors, found the hole, and headed for it.
"This is it," he told his passengers. Closer, closer.
Gently the lieutenant maneuvered, dipping to port. He'd just reached to complete the move when the shuttlecraft suddenly balanced out for him. A quick, startled glance to his left reassured him. Kaavi was on it, doing a fine copiloting job.
Even at this tense moment, Paris found he could spare a grin for her.
"We've cleared the hole," Paris told his captain. "I'm again taking position at the head of the fleet."
"Welcome back, Tom," said Janeway, warmth and relief in her voice.
***
The Verunan suicide run, which had cost the life of garrulous young Rixtu, had indeed bought Voyager some time. But Janeway was just as glad that her crewman and his two Verunan friends were safely back beside the Starfleet vessel.
"Bridge to Engineering. Paris and his passengers are back inside the shields. Torres, get to work on repairing--" "I'm on it, Captain."
Torres's voice was cool and efficient.
"The damage is relatively minor. We should have shields up to full efficiency in a few minutes."
"You've got them," Janeway assured her chief engineer, silently marveling at her crew's competence.
"Captain." Tuvok's voice interrupted her brief moment of pride.
"One of the Akerian vessels has veered away, bearing four-three-two mark zero-five."
"It's heading back to complete the mission we interrupted three days ago," said Chakotay grimly. "It's going back to destroy Veruna Four."
Janeway's lips thinned. She leaned forward in her chair.
"Pursue it, Commander. Mr. Tuvok, lock onto the ship's engines.
We've got to disable it before it reaches the planet."
Smoothly Voyager veered away from the concavity, dipping to avoid the remaining three Akerian vessels. The last one they passed--the ship whose pods they had just disabled--fired its weapons at them, a gesture of impotent anger--or fear. Voyager rocked slightly, but the shields were undamaged.
Mentally, Janeway assessed their situation. There had been five fully armed ships at the outset. The Conviction's suicide run had destroyed one. Voyager had destroyed the pods of a second, though, as it had just demonstrated, it could still fire its weapon, and if Voyager