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By Root 650 0

her into the pool. Kes couldn't breathe and her heart raced. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to fling aside the sheltering towels and ease into the hot water with Aren, press her slim body against his, feel his arms encircle her, touch the heartbreakingly beautiful, broken wings. She could help him. She could take his empire and ... Even as she gazed at him, Kes knew it was a lie. Oh, she was certain he meant it. But Aren was who he was. He could never turn his pirates to positive pursuits. They'd turn on him, kill him, kill as he had taught them to do. And he would hate her, then, for making him lose all that he had gained.

She thought suddenly of the doctor, of Tuvok, of the captain, of her own tidy hydroponics bay, nothing like this wild jungle, no, but a creation of her own. She thought of the pain she had soothed, the wounds she had healed, the lives she had saved. Kes had a place aboard Voyager that she knew deep in her heart was still there for her. Warm though the water was, and beautiful-oh, exquisitely so-as Aren might be, at his side was not where she belonged.

"I'm sorry," she breathed. "Kes-no, please, no."

Tears almost blinded her as she turned, stumbled to her feet, and broke into a run. She fled for the door, pausing only to pick up and don her discarded robe.

Behind her, she heard a cry of pain and loss and anger that she knew she would never forget.

Kula DMD LY, LY DIDN'T WAM TO SPUK TO Aren Yashar about what the latest reconnaissance missions had discovered.

He'd been jolted out of his doze last evening-this morning, truth be told-by Kes's sudden emergence from the hydroponics room, her feet flying and tears coursing down her face. And he'd heard a dreadful noise issue from inside the room-Aren's voice, but so laden with pain and anger that Dhad had quickly scurried away.

He'd hoped he'd be able to steer clear of both the pirate leader and his difficult beauty, at least for a day or so. Kes he had palmed off on an underling, knowing she would be safely out of Aren's way happily ensconced in front of the computers, teaming about teffaforming. Aren, however, was not so easily eluded.

He squared his shoulders and requested permission to enter.

For a long moment, the door to Aren Yashar's private chambers remained closed. Then, just when Dhad was about to give up, it hissed open.

Aren stood with his back toward Dhad, the small mounds of his wings clearly visible beneath his robe of dark blue. Kula Dhad raised a thin eyebrow in surprise. More than most Rhulani, Aren was sensitive about... those things.

"Greetings, Great One," he began, bowing deeply. Aren said nothing.

"There-I have-that is-"

"Say what you have come to say and get out." The voice was icy, and Dhad swallowed hard.

"You instructed me to report anything unusual, Great One."

"I know what I said." Every word was clipped and precise, and finally Aren Yashar turned around. Dhad kept his expression neutral with difficulty.

Aren looked as though he had aged four hundred years overnight. He wore the same strained, unhappy expression Kes wore. He looked-haunted.

Not for the first time, Dhad wished he had never seen Kes, never brought her to his leader's attention. Then things would be as they always had been, Aren robust and content in his casual violence, and he, Kula Dhad, a courier happily unencumbered by the honor of being the Ja'in leader's right-hand man. Silently, Dhad cursed the girl.

"There has been no luck in recovering the downed shuttle." Dhad spoke quickly with an eye toward reporting the news and getting out as soon as possible. "We routed all the Sshoush-shin encampments that we know of and none of them appear to have assisted the Voyager crew. However, we've been keeping an eye on a roving band of scouting Sshoush-shin, and they seem to be heading directly for the dome area. I thought you should be notified."

Please, please, just say that's all and let me go.

But something like animation came to Aren's face and he frowned. "That