Unworthy - Kirsten Beyer [36]
Her former husband, Admiral Willem Batiste, was less of a mystery. Tom had spent more time on and off duty around this breed of man than he’d cared to. Batiste, like so many of his father’s friends, carried himself with an energy that dared anyone to contradict him. Though Tom had never witnessed anything but the utmost in professionalism from either Eden or Batiste, he secretly wondered how Eden was able to serve under him.
He and Harry had managed to catch a quick dinner in the mess the night before, but messages to Chakotay and Seven had gone unanswered. Tom was curious what had brought them to the fleet but this mystery could wait.
Gwyn—who hadn’t stepped so much as a hair out of line in the last two weeks—interrupted his reverie as she announced, “Dispersing slipstream corridor.”
Paris had finally become so accustomed to the transition during their test runs that he had started to take it for granted. The turbulent white tunnel vanished as the ship’s inertial dampeners strained to compensate for the abrupt shift in velocity. After a few seconds, the viewscreen showed a serene starfield.
“Helm, full stop,” Eden commanded. Turning her head toward Tom with a faint smile, she added, “How does it feel to be back, Mister Paris?”
“Weird,” Paris replied honestly. He read subtle disappointment in her face, so he added, “But in a good way.”
The captain asked, “Gwyn, what’s our distance to the nebula?”
“One point six light-years, Captain.”
“Let’s take a look, shall we? Helm, plot a course.”
“Aye, Captain,” Gwyn replied.
“Bridge to Admiral Batiste,” Eden called.
“Go ahead.”
“We have arrived at the coordinates and are preparing to investigate the nebula that was the site of the transwarp hub.”
“ Keep me informed. Batiste out.”
“Ensign Lasren, advise Hawking and Galen to hold position until we return.”
Tom wondered if the uncomfortable warm and prickly sensation he was experiencing might have been his blood pressure rising, as there was no report yet of B’Elanna’s ship.
“Lasren, are long-range sensors detecting anything unusual in the area?” Paris asked.
“I’m recalibrating our sensors to compensate for the nebula, sir.”
“Captain,” Kim’s troubled voice piped in. “I’m picking up high energy discharges near the nebula.”
“Source?” Eden asked.
Paris had to hold tightly to his armrests to avoid coming out of his chair. Harry finally said, “Two ships, an unregistered vessel similar to Federation design and a much larger vessel of unknown origin.” He added, “The larger vessel has a cube-shaped configuration.”
“Is it the Borg?” Eden asked calmly.
“The readings don’t match anything in our database. There are traces of tritanium, but the alloy and weapons signatures don’t appear to be Borg.”
A small mercy.
“We should investigate,” Paris quickly advised Eden. Please, he added silently.
“Agreed,” Eden replied. “Ensign Gwyn, alter course to intercept. Lieutenant Kim, Yellow Alert.”
Within moments the battle in progress appeared on the viewscreen.
“Life signs?” Eden asked.
“Two Klingons aboard the unregistered vessel. No life signs detected aboard the cube. It appears to be fully automated.”
“More Klingons in the Delta quadrant?” Eden asked, her brow furrowing.
“The cube has sustained damage, Captain,” Kim reported. “Their shields are failing and I’m detecting overloads in several systems. The unregistered vessel’s shields are at eighty percent of maximum.”
Paris was torn between admiring B’Elanna’s success and getting her the hell out of danger as soon as possible. The shuttle maneuvered easily around the larger ship, avoiding direct fire. Still, the situation could change in seconds.
“Open a channel,” Paris ordered.
“Channel open,” Lasren confirmed.
Before Eden could object, Tom said, “This is the Federation Starship Voyager to the pilot of the unregistered vessel. Do you require assistance?”
A garbled response came over the comm.
“Lasren, can you clean that up?” Paris demanded.
“Commander,