The Murdered Sun - Christie Golden [87]
They looked to him to give the signal to return. He waited--silence.
Then came a sound that was music to his ears.
"Par-is," called Miweni from somewhere down the main corridor, "the others are all on board. Most of the guards are down..."
His voice was coming closer, and now he rounded the corner and finished his sentence. "And the few who are left have retreated!"
Paris felt a sudden surge of apprehension at the last comment but willed it aside. Gift horse, mouth, and all that, he told himself and aloud, "Then let's get the hell out of here and back to the ships!"
They clattered down the hall, empty now save for the fallen, unconscious Akerian guards. The fallen Verunans, dead and injured, had been spirited away by their friends. Even encumbered by the ETC's, the long Verunan legs devoured the distance as they ran down the corridor.
Miweni and another pilot hung back to keep pace with Paris. The gesture was deeply moving and inspired the lieutenant to his own best efforts.
Miweni had been right, the coast was completely clear. He headed for the shuttlecraft and leaped inside. The door closed at once and pressure returned.
Gasping, he looked around. There were four Verunans, one presently being helped out of the ETC, sharing the airlock with him. Then Kaavi exploded out of nowhere, hastening to help Paris remove his helmet and then giving him a mammoth hug.
She hurt his injured arm, and white lightning exploded through his brain, but somehow it didn't matter. He grinned fiercely at her, then stumbled forward to the cockpit and slid into his seat.
"Everybody aboard safely?" he asked the Verunan ships. A chorus of "ayes" met his ears. "Then let's get off of this planet!"
A few practiced tappings on the console, and the shuttlecraft lifted off. A quick glance confirmed that the five Verunan vessels had done likewise. In a few moments, the little fleet of rescuers and rescued were in the comfortable blackness of space.
Tom Paris let out a heavy sigh and leaned back into his chair.
He closed his eyes. They were ahead of schedule. As long as no one on the planet pursued them, they'd wait right here for Voyager. With any luck, she'd have some good news.
His arm hurt. Badly. He couldn't wait to get to sickbay.
"Paris?"
His eyes still closed, Paris replied, "Yes, Kaavi?"
"I think we may have trouble."
His eyes snapped open. Adrenaline shot through Paris, and his heart began to slam against his ribs.
Kaavi was right. Directly ahead and moving toward them with speedy purpose was the Destroyer.
CHAPTER 17
Janeway had joined Starfleet because when she was a young woman, she had fallen in love. Science was her great and lasting passion; and the mysteries it posed still intrigued, and the curiosity it aroused in her still burned hot after some twenty-odd years of romance.
Now, though, she and science were having a lover's quarrel. Or maybe it would better be called a knockdown-drag-out fight.
Sun-Eater hid its answers coyly, teasing her with facts that contradicted and did not enlighten. The last time she'd been this annoyed with anything was when Molly Malone, jealous of Janeway's affection toward Mark, had soiled Mark's rug.
Trying to figure out where the wormhole was--and incidentally the nature of the concavity itself--would have been trying enough.
But she also had to deal with. the Akerian ship that dogged her like a silent shadow and the fact that at least one member of her crew was on the planet and in grave danger.
At least, she thought to herself, the decoy had worked. The Destroyer had followed her, seemingly uninterested in what transpired on the planet's surface. It would appear that the commander, whomever he or she might be, did not think that six small vessels posed any kind of real threat to the dead planet the Akerians called Blessing.