by Mosaic
"Can you walk?"
"No, but I can hop."
And he did, bounding through the woods on his good leg, gritting his teeth against the pain that seared through his broken ankle each time he landed. Alter a few minutes, Kathryn saw a clearing, and knew they had reached the transport site.
But so had a Cardassian trooper. He stood in the clearing, holding a Toskanar on a chain. It was a powerful, sinewy animal that looked like a cross between a mountain lion and a bear, with muscular legs and a great, shaggy head. It was silent now, but straining on the chain, eager to get at them.
"Stay where you are," ordered the Cardassian. Kathryn surmised they were still within the transgenic field; unless they were completely into the clearing, they couldn't contact the Icarus to transport them. "Lie down on the ground with your arms above your heads."
Kathryn kneeled to comply, but Justin gestured toward his bad leg, still dangling off the ground. "My ankle is broken," he said. "Lie down on the ground with your arms above your heads." Justin nodded and put one hand down on the ground as though to help himself to get off his feet, lost his balance and tumbled to his side-then came up with his phaser drawn, and fired.
Nothing happened. Kathryn stared at the weapon; it was covered with muck from the swamp and must have lost its charge. She looked up at the Cardassian, who was smiling at them through the darkness, and saw him unleash the huge dog. Instantly, it bounded across the clearing right toward her.
She saw it as though in slow motion: the beast opened its jaws, baring a double row of pointed teeth, frothy slaver falling from its tongue. Small, round eyes glittered like lasers in the darkness; it uttered a guttural growl of anticipation.
Suddenly Justin had thrown himself in its path, taking the impact of the animal's charge. Kathryn's hand snaked out for the thick tree limb she had spotted to her side; wielding it like a bat, she hammered at the animal until it unloosed Justin and started toward her. She gripped the branch and twisted to her left-and an old familiar power rippled through her. The target was a tennis ball. She eyed it carefully, timing the backhand, shoulders turned and pointed toward the target, back leg bent, ready to drive: and then she set her body in motion, hips uncoiling and pushing forward, arms swinging as the power of her legs drove them, the weapon on a flat plane level with the target, eyes never losing contact until-
The branch slammed into the face of the Toskanar with a sickening crunch; it didn't even yelp before toppling over, skull crushed. The Cardassian was standing in shock, losing precious seconds in his astonishment at the dispatch of his vicious animal. Justin had crawled a few feet closer and was trying to get his phaser operative; without even thinking about it, Kathryn, bat still in hand, charged the Cardassian. The rest happened quickly: the Cardassian regained his senses and grabbed for his weapon as Kathryn reached him and swung at it; it discharged against the tree branch she wielded, knocking it from her grasp in a violent surge of energy. She saw the weapon turn toward her when it suddenly seemed to explode in his hand, and she realized Justin had fired his phaser. The Cardassian toppled, dazed, and a fury rose in her; rage for what they'd done to the admiral, and to her, and to all their victims, and she swung her leg in a vicious kick against the Cardassian's temple and felt a surge of primal satisfaction as she felt cartilage and bone give beneath the blow. She swung to kick again, hearing Justin's voice behind her ordering the beam-out. Her leg dematerialized before it made contact again.
The rest of the Ranger team had successfully returned with Admiral Paris to the Icarus,- he, along with Justin and Kathryn, were treated in sickbay. Justin's ankle was quickly healed, as were his cuts from the claws of the Toskanar dog, and both he and Kathryn were treated for hypothermia.
She listened as the doctor queried the admiral about the torture device that the Cardassians had implanted in his body, and a decision was made that the best way to remove it would be to use the medical transporter to beam it out. The implant was a highly sophisticated piece of technology that produced limitless levels of pain, but according to the doctor, no lasting physical injury.
Kathryn knew that psychological injury might be another matter. The admiral looked weak and ashen from the ordeal; he thanked the Ranger team and congratulated them on a mission perfectly accomplished, but there was a muted, subdued quality to him that suggested the extent of his trauma. When Kathryn joined him in his ready room at his request, she felt a swell of concern rise in her as she saw his eyes, once twinkling and merry, now dull, as though covered by a film of soap.
"Lieutenant Tighe tells me you acquitted yourself admirably during our recent adventure, Ensign."
"Thank you, sir. I have to say that the Rangers were the real heroes of the mission. Especially the lieutenant."
"I know you've had your problems with him."
Kathryn's head jerked up sharply. How had he known this? She'd made every effort to keep a smooth front to their relationship; she didn't want the admiral to think she lacked the ability to make a professional association work comfortably. The admiral smiled, but again, it was without his usual mirth.
"I pride myself in being able to see beneath the surface," he said, acknowledging her surprise. "And I know Justin well. He can be difficult. But he's a special young man and he's going to become very important to Starfleet."
For a moment, Kathryn had the distinct impression the admiral was trying to sell Justin to her, but she quickly dismissed that idea; he was simply a commanding officer proud of the heroes of his mission.
"I'd like you to know," the admiral continued, "that we were highly successful in obtaining intelligence about the Cardassians. In spite of their discovery of our technology on the Urtean moon. Starfleet Command plans to put commendations for everyone in our files."
"Thank you, sir. That's very gratifying."
A silence fell between them as Admiral Paris studied Kathryn solemnly. She felt herself growing uneasy under his gaze, but forced herself to remain quiet and calm.
"Ensign," he began, "I'd like to put an idea in your head. Not for you to act on right away, just to ponder for a while, turn it over, examine it with that remarkable intelligence of yours."
Kathryn was immediately curious. What could he be talking about? She strove for neutrality. "What's that, sir?"
"Your abilities in science are clear. And you'd be an asset as a science officer in any situation." He paused then, eyeing her with the newly flat, remote eyes. "But I'd like you to give some thought to command."
"Command?" Kathryn felt herself sounding vacuous, but his words had come as a surprise. She'd never considered a career track other than science. "You're smart, you're tough, you think on your feet, and you don't panic under pressure. Those aren't the only qualities involved in command, but they're ones you can't do without. Just think about it. We can talk more about it if you like."
"Yes, sir. I'm flattered. I'll certainly think about it."
Kathryn hesitated, not sure if she should be broaching the next subject, but sensing that it might be better for the admiral to talk about it. "Begging your pardon, sir, but when the Cardassians were holding us-I mean, I could hear you screaming, and I know... it must have been terrible."
He looked at her with those filmed eyes. "It was," he said simply. "I could never have imagined."
"Did they-want anything? Information?"
He shook his head. "Not really. I told them everything I could think of, of course. There's no way to keep from offering them anything just to make them stop. But no, they were just interested in breaking me." Admiral Paris stood and walked to the window, where warp stars streaked by in dazzling array. "I'm taking a risk telling you this, Ensign. But it might help you to understand some things."
He paused for a moment, then continued. "I underwent the Cardassians' torture for a little more than an hour. I'm not sure I'll ever be the same again." He turned to her and spoke softly, awe tinging his voice. "Lieutenant Tighe was taken by the Cardassians two years ago. They held him for th
ree days, during which time he underwent constant torture. He managed to escape somehow and make his way back to our forces."
Another heavy pause. "How he has survived so well is amazing to me. How he had the courage to lead a rescue mission for us is astonishing. I just wanted you to know what an extraordinary gesture it was."
Kathryn felt a rush of emotions-amazement, wonder, respect, compassion-all of which quickly coalesced into a deeply felt gratitude. She looked up at Admiral Paris, and felt her eyes sting. "Thank you for telling me, sir. It makes a big difference."
He nodded curtly at her, seeming to withdraw into some protective isolation. "Dismissed" was all he said, and Kathryn exited quickly.
When she rang the chime outside Justin's quarters, her heart was hammering and her cheeks burning. Should she be doing this? She had no idea, but she was compelled by some inner need to go to him; there was something yawning between them that needed to be filled. She had to acknowledge the immensity of what he had done.
His voice through the closed door was dry. "Come in," he said, and the doors slid open. She stood there, not entering, wanting his permission before she would intrude. He looked up at her in some surprise. "Ensign Janeway. Please-come in."
She walked in, conscious of the fact she had never been in his quarters before. They had done all their work in the science lab or the wardroom-neutral territory. Her peripheral vision indicated a room devoid of individuality: a neat, spare space that could have been occupied by anyone. She had seen empty quarters with as much personal detail. He was eyeing her with that cautious, wary look of his, an animal anticipating attack, poised and ready, blue eyes holding her look firmly. She had absolutely no idea how to begin.
She didn't know exactly why she was there, or what she wanted to say. She didn't know whether to be direct or oblique, lighthearted or solemn. She only knew she had to make some kind of connection with him. The moment elongated as she tried to find an approach, an opening sentence, anything to get her started. Suddenly he startled her by chuckling, a low, throaty sound she'd never heard from him before. She looked at him curiously.
"What?" she asked.
"Once my little sister had to ask my father if she could take an offworld trip with her school class. She knew he wouldn't approve, but she was determined to do it. I was with him when she came to ask. She stood there for about three minutes, not saying anything, all her emotions playing out on her face. My dad was perfectly content to let her squirm, and he just waited, not saying anything. Finally, when she opened her mouth to speak, he just said, "You can go." He looked at her, amused. "You looked a little like her just now." n
11less-than Sllll yl lathcomyn ilfha tmension wa-, broken She walked less-than Sllly lll j11Il LGU-EA IlLGU aneai vdm. a mddaavaa in and sat down. "I've been talking to Admiral Paris. I know what happened to you with the Cardassians. And I wanted you to know how grateful I am that you put yourself in danger to save us."
Justin shrugged, deflecting gratitude in a way that seemed to her reflexive. "It was my job."
"Admiral Paris seemed to think it was more than that." He was silent, and she felt uncomfortable again. She had to fill the void. "Did you ever think-about what would happen if the Cardassians took you again?""
"Of course."
"But you cane anyway."
A long silence, some difcult inner decision on his part, a step considered and taken, and then he looked directly at her. "I just knew I wasn't going to let them hurt you," he said simply, and in that moment the chasm between them closed and she realized that what she had sensed between them, the wrongness, the awkwardness, was her futile resistance to the inevitable.
CHAPTER 17
HARRY AND KES SAT' IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROOM, WRINGING wet and gasping. The heat was now at a torturous level, and the walls were glowing a burnished red. They had exhausted themselves trying to find a way out, a control panel, some indication of technology-anything to stop this inexorable rise in temperature which now threatened to roast them to death. To no avail. Degree by degree, the heat had increased, until the point where breathing itself was difficult. Kes looked flushed but unafraid; Harry admired her indomitable spirit but feared it wasn't going to survive this present calamity.
He slumped to the floor, trying to make his mind function and tell him what to do in this strange and dangerous situation. He tried to concentrate on all the survival skills he'd been taught at the Academy, first and foremost staying calm and not yielding to the situation, no matter how dire.
There was no evidence that the people who had built these underground catacombs were aggressors or that the capture of prisoners had any place in their society. It didn't stand to reason that this unusual chamber existed merely for the slow destruction of interlopers. On the other hand, the universe didn't necessarily organize itself reasonably. People did strange things for strange reasons, and a slow, ritualistic death had had its place in many societies. Harry's mind wandered in spite of himself. He dreamed idly of Libby, and of his parents; he dissociated from the present and seemed to drift through space and time. Hallucinatory images swirled in his brain... his first clarinet lesson... Libby dressed in white... the melodious tinkling of a wind chime in his father's garden... his mother's eyes shining at his graduation from the Academy...
All of those people undoubtedly thought he was dead. And in a few minutes, they would be right. He felt no particular regret at that moment. Death seemed merely a curious phenomenon rather than a dreaded event. What lay there? were there answers to anything? The universe posed so many questions, and so few had been answered.
He reached over to Kes, who had also collapsed onto the floor. He took her hand and squeezed it and was comforted to feel a slight pressure in return. He was content to die like this, offering solace to. and receiving it from, a good friend, drifting through memories of those he loved; it would be a peaceful going.
He wasn't even aware of the cooling breeze for a few moments. His mind had taken him to the beach on a baking day, with gentle gusts from the ocean dancing over his skin. Presently he realized there was a breeze cooling him, and he opened his eyes; there, through sweat-encrusted eyelashes, he saw a figure looming above him, fanning him. No, not fanning-not exactly. Moving something... Harry rubbed the moisture from his eyes and focused on the apparition before him. It was humanoid, its head elongated and narrow. It was covered in dense layers of a hairy fur, and its eyes, dark and intense, were in the front, rather than at the sides, of its face.
And attached to its back were huge, plumed wings, which beat slowly, magnificently, stirring the air and cooling Harry's fevered skin.
Tuvok's entire team had reassembled, and he was leading them through the maze of corridors, away from the main staging area where they had first descended into the underground structure. Neelix' sense of unease was grow- ing by the minute; they had found no sign of Kes or Harry, who were not responding to hails. The impact of weapons fire from above continued to jar them, and a fine dust had been loosened from walls and ceiling, smoking the air and coating therri all in an irritating mist of particulates. Neelix trotted alongside the tall Vulcan as he strode purposefully down the labyrinth, scanning carefully and mapping their route as they went. "Mr. Vulcan... isn't it true that the deeper we go, the more likely they'll be to trap us in the bowels of this maze?"
"We may be able to locate another way out. Ensign Kim reported finding a stairway. It is my intention to track his movements and locate that stairway."
Neelix' heart quickened-they were going to find Harry and Kes. But immediately some of the ramifications came flooding in on him. ""Even if xc find them, it doesn't mean they've found a way out of here. The Kazon could just wait us out. We have only a little food and water."
"We will have to face each eventuality as it presents itself. For now, this is the tactical strategy I have decided upon." Tuvok kept striding purposefully forward, checking his tricorder as he went. Neelix settled into a a steady trot at his side, somewhat comforte
d by the Vulcan's calm demeanor. But his anxiety over Kes didn't abate. Her absence and her silence concerned him. Who knew what might lurk in the dark halls of this subterranean grotto? What unanticipated dangers might Kes and Harry have encountered? Neelix knew he wouldn't relax until he could see her sweet face again and hear her low, husky voice. And then all their lights went out.
A murmured gasp arose from the group as they were plunged into total blackness. There was the sound of twenty wrist beacons clicking as the crew tried to get them started again, but to no avail. Muffled explosions continued to rumble in the distance; the air was thick with grit; they were trapped in the dark. Neelix felt certain they were on the cusp of some monumental event, an occurrence of dire and overwhelming portent.
Jai Sittik picked at a hangnail which had turned bloody, trying to contain his anxiety. In spite of constant bombardment, the Federations had not appeared, and the men were beginning to cast irritated glances in his direction. He had struck a nonchalant pose and busied himself with his thumbnail, as though the outcome of the mission were so assured that he needn't give it another thought, and could concentrate instead on the nagging shard of nail.