Marooned - Christie Golden [82]
He placed his hand on his chest and bowed. Kes regretted the necessity of the lie, but did not regret the he itself. He backed away until the shadows fell upon him. Only then did he turn around, safe in the darkness where she could not glimpse his wing mounds.
Kes watched him go, dry eyed. She had chosen her path, and was set upon it. There would be no more tears for herself, or for Aren Yashar. Only a determination, hitherto smothered in soft pillows and nearly drowned in warm waters, to concentrate on escape.
She had ceased looking at terraforming technology. Under Dhad's absent-minded guidance, Kes had applied her quick brain and computer skills to cracking the security codes without anyone being the wiser.
She already had a good idea of the layout of the base, and was now concentrating on the weapons and defense systems. Somehow, some way, she would find a way out of here. Kes had reached a decision: she would rather die in the harsh wilderness of Mishkara than live out her life in the opulence of the pirate base.
She had allayed Aren's suspicions. The guards didn't see her as a threat, just as a playpretty for their master. Kes would use that underestimation to her advantage.
She touched the screen with a forefinger and continued her study.
Torres woke to pain. She lay face down in a pile of animal pelts, breathing in dust and their musty scent. Every bone in her body had been rattled, and there was an awful burning on her back. For an instant, she couldn't recall where she was, and the darkness, broken only by a few paltry beams of white light, made her try to rise with a growl.
"Easy, B'Elanna," came the soothing voice of her captain. "You've had a bad spill and those bums are nasty."
Torres felt Janeway's calming hands on her, cutting away the uniform. The air felt cold on the bums. When Janeway began applying an ointment, Torres hissed in agony, but clenched her fists and teeth and managed to remain still. Janeway continued to talk.
"You hit the side of the chasm when you fell, and burned your back. I'm putting on an ointment which will dull the pain and help seal in moisture. You'll be the first to see the doctor after we-when we get back."
Another sort of pain crashed over Torres. Tom. She'd-left Tom on the surface, for the Ja'in to find and kill. Unless "Did Tom make it down?" It hurt her swollen mouth to form the words.
She felt her captain's hands still for an instant, then resume their ministrations. "No." Janeway was blunt. "He attacked you, you fell, and then fire from the Ja'in ships sealed the tunnel. Mr. Paris is more use to Aren alive than dead, if they need to bargain with Voyager. We can hope they captured him rather than killed him."
Tears stung Torres's eyes. She blinked them back. She couldn't afford to waste the moisture.
"How is everyone else?" she asked.
"We're a pretty sorry crew," replied Janeway. She began to apply clean cloths-as clean as they could get, anyway-to the bum area. "You can't be moved with this bum. Tuvok's further damaged his arm and suffered a concussion. And Neelix's leg is broken."
Torres remembered climbing with Neelix and Paris on the Sakari homeworld. He'd broken his leg then, too. "He doesn't seem to have much luck with falls," she said. "Are you all right? What about Hrrrl?"
Janeway chuckled. "I'm fine. When I fell, I landed on Hrrrl. He wasn't happy about it, but he's all right. Now. Can you sit up at all?"
"I think so." With Janeway's help-and a great deal of pain-Torres maneuvered into a sitting posi tion, careful to resist the urge to lean against the rock wall of the mine. She glanced around at the rest of them. Janeway was right. What a sorry lot they