Unworthy - Kirsten Beyer [66]
“Captain,” Donner interrupted.
“What is it, Ensign?”
“We have received another transmission. The same transport coordinates.”
“Is it another Indign?” Eden asked.
“No, Captain,” Donner confirmed. “It’s a small object.”
“Does that object have a power signature?” Harry asked.
“Or a lit fuse at one end?” Cambridge quipped.
“It is approximately half a meter in length, and thirteen centimeters in diameter. It is inert and contains no detectable technology,” Donner reported.
With a sigh, Eden ordered, “Bring it aboard, Ensign.”
A metallic canister roughly the size of a test canister used by Starfleet when checking the transporters shimmered into existence before them.
Eden turned to Donner and said, “Send it to the Hawking. Advise Captain Itak to assign a team to analyze it. I’d like to know what it is, and if there’s any way to open it.”
“Aye, Captain.”
Cambridge assumed a posture of mock chagrin, saying, “With your permission, I’d like to revise my earlier assessment.”
“How so?”
“Although the Indign appear to be inscrutable I believe we can safely acknowledge one thing about them.”
“And what’s that?”
“They like to give gifts.”
Chakotay walked swiftly across the bridge on his way to Eden’s ready room. He had been summoned. Still, his quickness of step was evidence that he might never again feel truly comfortable in the heart of Voyager.
You’re being ridiculous, part of his mind argued. He had lived most of the last ten years aboard Voyager and spent the vast majority of his waking hours on the bridge. But that fact didn’t slow his steps.
Commander Paris occupied the captain’s chair and he offered Chakotay a pleasant nod the moment he stepped off the turbolift, as Lasren stumbled over a faint, “Hello, Captain … I mean … Chakotay.” These simple gestures only tightened the knot in his stomach.
He paused to collect himself at the door to the ready room and heard the door chime. After hearing a muted “Enter,” he stepped inside.
Captain Eden was seated at her desk, poring over a stack of padds. The room had changed quite a bit since it had belonged to him. Apart from the absence of scorch marks, crumpled wall plates, and hanging conduits he vaguely remembered following the battle at the Azure Nebula, the walls behind and adjacent to Eden’s desk were now decorated with large expressionistic paintings done in vivid reds, blues, and greens. A medium-sized bronze statue of a cat balancing on its forepaws atop a ball rested on one end of her credenza. Personal photos and mementos were arranged throughout and gave the space an unusually homey feel. The carpet and upholstery retained a subtle new smell he hadn’t associated with the room since the first days he’d been on board in the Delta quadrant.
The captain dropped the padd she was studying as he crossed to stand before her desk.
“Thank you for reporting so promptly.” She gestured for him to take a seat in one of two streamlined and from the looks of it, rather uncomfortable armless chairs opposite the desk.
“Not at all, Captain,” he replied.
Jumping right in, Eden said, “According to Counselor Cambridge and the Doctor, Seven of Nine seems to adjusting well to her duties. Is that your impression as well?”
“It is.”
There was a pause as Eden waited to see if he would expand on that thought and when he didn’t she went on, “And you’ve seen nothing in her behavior off-duty to suggest that the voice she reported hearing is inhibiting her abilities?”
“No,” Chakotay replied succinctly. Briefly he wondered if his reticence was motivated by pettiness. Once he acknowledged that that might be the case he added, “The neural inhibitor has completely muted the voice. Counselor Cambridge has asked her to disengage the inhibitor briefly in their sessions, hoping that she will be able to control the voice.”
Something in his remarks disquieted Eden. She rose and went to the large windows that offered a view of the Indign planet they were orbiting. Eden paused and set her back against the rail that separated the desk area from