Marooned - Christie Golden [27]
First, Captain, let me tell you a little bit about myself, in an effort to foster mutual understanding. I am, as you know, a Rhulani." He cast a quick glance at her, his eyes sparkling impishly. "How old do you think I am?"
"You know I have no way of telling," Janeway replied, her annoyance creeping into her voice. She accepted the goblet but put it down untouched.
"Exactly. From what I've been able to determine about you humans, I probably appear to you to beoh, let's say thirty-five of your years. In actuality, I am over four thousand, two hundred of your years. And I am still considered quite young among my people."
He paused to let this sink in, and continued handing out the drinks. "Mr. Neelix, I do hope you find this to your liking. I'd be happy to send along a few bottles with you when you leave."
Neelix's face flushed, but he bit his tongue. Janeway admired his restraint. The offer of a few bottles of alcohol in exchange for Kes must have infuriated him. "And for you, dear lady B'Elanna. Half Klingon, half human-what a struggle everyday life must be for you! The ridges, do they hurt?"
Inwardly, Janeway braced herself for Torres's attack on Aren. The chief engineer, though, merely tightened her jaw and accepted the drink. By the way her fingers curled around the delicate goblet, though, Janeway could tell that the restraint was costing B'Elanna dearly.
It was costing them all, and she knew it. She could only hope that it was worth it.
"And Lieutenant Tom Paris. A simple human male." Tom snatched the glass, ghdng at his host as Aren turned to Janeway, clucking his tongue in remonstrance. "I told you to bring someone interesting, Captain. I'm afraid another human is a bit, well, dim."
He now lay back on a pile of cushions and sipped at the drink. "When you are as old as I am, you see a great deal. There isn't much in this quadrant that I haven't heard of, and things that arouse my interest are precious and rarer than gemstones, of which, incidentally, Mishkara has a great many. When my spies brought me word of your ship-and specifically, word of Kes-I knew I had to have her."
He reached out his long fingers, and the beautiful colors of the webbing between them flashed briefly. He touched Kes's cheek softly, and the Ocampan winced and drew back.
"Much beauty have I seen; much beauty have I had, Captain Janeway." His voice was hushed, almost reverent, and his face lost its sly calculation as he gazed at Kes. "But never have I seen nor possessed such beauty as this. And all the sweeter for its brevity."
He turned toward Janeway, almost pleading. "Nine years, Captain. Nine years! That's all the time she has. Isn't that staggering, humbling, almost overwhelming? How soon the flower withers, but how unspeakably lovely it is while it is in bloom!"
"That's it," said Paris, slapping his thighs with his hands and starting to rise.
"As you were, Lieutenant," ordered Janeway. "Commander Yashar, I've had just about enough of this."
"But you haven't even touched your drink," quipped the pirate leader, deliberately misunderstanding her.
Janeway rose, fighting back her temper. She planted her hands firmly on her hips and stared down at Aren. "We consider ourselves a patient people-"
"And which people would that be? There are so many types of you Alpha quadranters!"
',-but you are pushing the limits. We came here to talk." Janeway's eyes flashed. "You'd better start saying something that I want to hear."
"Or what?" Aren chuckled. "You wouldn't dare take Kes by force, not when my guards outnumber you, what, a hundred to one?"
"Don't tempt me," growled Torres.
Without even glancing back at her chief engineer Janeway raised a commanding hand. Torres fell silent.
"Return Kes," said Janeway softly, each word laden with intensity.
Aren's lazy smile grew. "Why should I?"
" I suppose the fact