Pathways - Jeri Taylor [88]
She shoved at a stack of crates and, to her delight, they toppled, blocking his path for a moment. She scurried through the maze of cargo, glad now for Mesler’s frugality and the darkness of the room. She heard Tancret plowing through the toppled crates and worked her way farther into the gloom.
Suddenly, there was a muffled rumble, and the entire deck trembled. A sound of voices in the distance, excited calls of alarm. There was another rumble, and several stacks of the cargo crates collapsed. B’Elanna now realized she was in danger of being buried if she stayed where she was. Carefully, she began to move toward the open center of the room once more.
Then the voices were closer, shouting, tumultuous, and she heard the distinctive sound of phaser fire. Quickly she worked the closure on one of the crates and pulled out a rifle, feeling complete for the first time since she’d encountered the Cardassian.
Cautiously, she edged her way forward, listening carefully. She heard the voices of humans, crisp and urgent. Then there was another of the violent shudders, the room shook, and she felt the stack of crates just next to her begin to lose stability.
She dived into the center of the room, weapon skittering across the floor, just in time to escape being crushed by the collapsing cargo containers. She rolled to her feet, arms in front of her, ready for battle.
A human male stood in front of her, a look of astonishment on his face. He was darkly handsome, and wore a strange marking on his temple. Gul Tancret and two other Cardassians were sprawled on the deck, unconscious or dead. “Who are you?” the human barked.
“Engineer . . .” B’Elanna began, but winced with the effort to speak. She realized her jaw had been broken, and her hand involuntarily moved to it, pressing gingerly.
“Is the propulsion system on line?” She nodded. “Come with me,” he ordered, and began to descend into the engine room. She followed him unquestioningly, knowing somehow he was a friend.
Two hours later, her ship was in orbit of Riva, a planet in the demilitarized zone, along with its valuable cargo, which was immediately unloaded onto the surface.
She was in a small compartment on board the Maquis ship Liberty, being tended by a Bajoran woman whose hands were strong and gentle, and who wielded the osteogenic stimulator with deft skill. “That was quite a blow you took,” the woman observed. “It’s a wonder you didn’t lose consciousness.” She paused briefly, then added, “Most would have.”
B’Elanna started to reply, but the pain in her jaw was still too severe. “Shhh,” whispered the Bajoran. “Don’t try to talk yet. It’ll be a little longer before the bone is regenerated.”
A few moments passed, with the affable hum of the stimulator the only sound. Finally, the woman spoke again. “I’m Seska. The captain of our ship is Chakotay. He’s the one who found you.” Seska smiled to herself, and B’Elanna immediately sensed a change in this woman when she mentioned Chakotay. She was softer somehow, more vulnerable.
“You’re lucky it was our ship that found you. It took incredible courage to engage that Cardassian ship, but Chakotay is the most fearless captain a ship could have. He didn’t hesitate.”
“The load of weapons we were carrying might have been an inducement,” replied B’Elanna, noting that she could speak without pain now.
Seska frowned slightly. “We could’ve taken the cargo and left you to the Cardassians,” she retorted, “but Chakotay doesn’t behave like that.”
“Believe me, I’m grateful,” B’Elanna replied. She didn’t want to antagonize these people. She was only too aware that she was alone and friendless in this part of space, and couldn’t afford to alienate her rescuers.
Before Seska could reply, the door to the compartment opened and Chakotay walked in. “How’s the patient?” he inquired, and B’Elanna noted the imperturbability in his voice. This man was unflappable, she realized, but