hadn’t considered that before, but the assumption was obvious.
“A ship that sits in dock so you can cannibalize parts of it to repair everything else,” Tom Paris said, smiling. “Kind of like supplies on the hoof. They did it all the time in the Maquis.”
“You weren’t a Maquis that long,” Harry replied.
“Long enough to pick up a few pointers,” Paris protested.
“Besides, B’Elanna’s gonna love this.”
“Before we start dividing up the spoils, perhaps we should take a look at what we have,” the captain said dryly. “Mr. Paris, take us in nice and easy. I don’t want to trigger whatever other traps have been left here.”
The pilot smiled and turned the shuttlecraft in an elegant arc around the outer edge of the heap before slowing down and entering the precinct. Here he had to fly as though he were maneuvering through an asteroid belt. The major ships themselves were easy to avoid, but the oversized detritus that had detached from the main array whirled crazily.
Harry Kim sucked in his breath audibly while Paris dodged a couple of particularly nasty looking bits of wreck. The captain was so calm she could have been playing 3-D chess in the Voyager lounge.
Paris pulled out suddenly to avoid a wildly spinning bit of flotsam that seemed to be headed straight for them. He hit the acceleration hard across the paths of two major ships to avoid the debris. There was nowhere else to go, not enough time, not enough space to maneuver.
He cursed under his breath, his teeth clenched as he swung the ungainly little shuttle across the bows of two enormous hulks.
He yanked the shuttle down and hard port just as the dead weapons of an ancient warrior opened fire.
He had been fast but not quite fast enough. They were jolted from behind as broad beam energy weapons discharged just meters above them.
Paris went into fighter maneuvers, pushing the chunky shuttlecraft to the edge of its limits, stressing the hull with the quick turns and intricate foils designed for fighter craft.
He pulled them to starboard so hard that the captain and Kim were flung against their armrests. There hadn’t been time to tell them to strap down before he began the evasive procedures.
“What was that, Captain?” Kim asked as he got up off the shuttlecraft floor.
“I would suspect an automatic passive trigger,” Janeway said, brushing off her trousers and the palms of her hands. “Those were not merchants.”
Tom Paris was grinning broadly. “But I pulled us out near the center ship. We should be in the clear now.”
“Unless there’s something else here to shoot at us,” Kim said.
“I thought there weren’t any lifeforms here.”
“There aren’t,” Janeway said. “These were old pieces on automatic.
I’ve heard of traps like this.”
“The Cardassians pull this kind of trick all the time,” Paris said.
“But they have lifeforms reading on those ships.
Sometimes they bundle people they consider traitors or prisoners together to watch their ship fire passively at their rescuers.
Chakotay told me about being in a trap like that once.”
Harry Kim looked very anxious.
“Let’s get on with our job, gentlemen,” the captain’s crisp, positive tone wiped away some of the lingering chill of the attack. “Mr. Paris, take us in.”
CHAPTER 8
The breech in the hull was so large it was like entering one of the berths at McKinley Station. Tom Paris could do it in his sleep, but after the encounter with the odd attackers, he was grateful for an easier charge. The adrenaline that had rushed through his body during the encounter with the live weapons subsided now, leaving him cold and quivering with a slight metallic taste in his mouth.
The sight before him was awe-inspiring. In the dead vacuum that had preserved the cavity nothing moved. But it was easy to imagine some kind of people here. Where the plating had been torn away, all the decks were open to view.
“They must have been giants,” Harry Kim
“A ship that sits in dock so you can cannibalize parts of it to repair everything else,” Tom Paris said, smiling. “Kind of like supplies on the hoof. They did it all the time in the Maquis.”
“You weren’t a Maquis that long,” Harry replied.
“Long enough to pick up a few pointers,” Paris protested.
“Besides, B’Elanna’s gonna love this.”
“Before we start dividing up the spoils, perhaps we should take a look at what we have,” the captain said dryly. “Mr. Paris, take us in nice and easy. I don’t want to trigger whatever other traps have been left here.”
The pilot smiled and turned the shuttlecraft in an elegant arc around the outer edge of the heap before slowing down and entering the precinct. Here he had to fly as though he were maneuvering through an asteroid belt. The major ships themselves were easy to avoid, but the oversized detritus that had detached from the main array whirled crazily.
Harry Kim sucked in his breath audibly while Paris dodged a couple of particularly nasty looking bits of wreck. The captain was so calm she could have been playing 3-D chess in the Voyager lounge.
Paris pulled out suddenly to avoid a wildly spinning bit of flotsam that seemed to be headed straight for them. He hit the acceleration hard across the paths of two major ships to avoid the debris. There was nowhere else to go, not enough time, not enough space to maneuver.
He cursed under his breath, his teeth clenched as he swung the ungainly little shuttle across the bows of two enormous hulks.
He yanked the shuttle down and hard port just as the dead weapons of an ancient warrior opened fire.
He had been fast but not quite fast enough. They were jolted from behind as broad beam energy weapons discharged just meters above them.
Paris went into fighter maneuvers, pushing the chunky shuttlecraft to the edge of its limits, stressing the hull with the quick turns and intricate foils designed for fighter craft.
He pulled them to starboard so hard that the captain and Kim were flung against their armrests. There hadn’t been time to tell them to strap down before he began the evasive procedures.
“What was that, Captain?” Kim asked as he got up off the shuttlecraft floor.
“I would suspect an automatic passive trigger,” Janeway said, brushing off her trousers and the palms of her hands. “Those were not merchants.”
Tom Paris was grinning broadly. “But I pulled us out near the center ship. We should be in the clear now.”
“Unless there’s something else here to shoot at us,” Kim said.
“I thought there weren’t any lifeforms here.”
“There aren’t,” Janeway said. “These were old pieces on automatic.
I’ve heard of traps like this.”
“The Cardassians pull this kind of trick all the time,” Paris said.
“But they have lifeforms reading on those ships.
Sometimes they bundle people they consider traitors or prisoners together to watch their ship fire passively at their rescuers.
Chakotay told me about being in a trap like that once.”
Harry Kim looked very anxious.
“Let’s get on with our job, gentlemen,” the captain’s crisp, positive tone wiped away some of the lingering chill of the attack. “Mr. Paris, take us in.”
CHAPTER 8
The breech in the hull was so large it was like entering one of the berths at McKinley Station. Tom Paris could do it in his sleep, but after the encounter with the odd attackers, he was grateful for an easier charge. The adrenaline that had rushed through his body during the encounter with the live weapons subsided now, leaving him cold and quivering with a slight metallic taste in his mouth.
The sight before him was awe-inspiring. In the dead vacuum that had preserved the cavity nothing moved. But it was easy to imagine some kind of people here. Where the plating had been torn away, all the decks were open to view.
“They must have been giants,” Harry Kim
Similar Books
