A/N: Thanks as always to MissyHissy3 for keeping me on the straight and narrow…

Chapter 12

The ladder took them into light. It wasn't natural, and the air was still thick and sluggish, but compared to the absolute darkness they had endured for so long the brassy, faded glow felt like liberation. Janeway pulled herself over the last rung of the ladder and crawled onto level ground, her entire body singing a chorus of pain that she tried her best to ignore as she flicked off the flashlight and got to her feet. A moment later Chakotay stood beside her, rotating his shoulders and flexing his arms, no doubt trying to ease a similar discomfort.

Kathryn glanced behind them at the shaft they had ascended, the feathered cast of their shadows – absent for so long – stretching back toward the void. It gaped, a wide borehole that led deep into the belly of the planet. It had almost claimed them both, and indeed would have, if not for Chakotay's determination. For now, the sounds that had startled them back into action had been lost in the maze of tangled tunnels that lay far beneath them. They could take a breath. They could regroup. It wasn't only this respite that caused Janeway's heart to spark with hope.

"I know where we are," she said, quietly, and felt Chakotay's gaze on her face immediately. She looked up at him. "When I toured the Vorbrath thermodynamic mine with Tuvok, they told us the facility had replaced an older antiquated system that had now been abandoned." Kathryn nodded behind them. "That has to be the original mine shaft. They brought us up this way because they knew it would be empty of Vorbrath personnel."

Chakotay nodded. "Makes sense. Although I won't pretend Tuvok's directions couldn't do with some work," he added, dryly.

Janeway laughed a little and watched as the sound brought a smile to Chakotay's face. The relief of their near miss had made them both a little giddy.

"Captain?" Chakotay asked. "If you know where we are, do you know the way out from here?"

Janeway rested her hands on her hips and grimaced. "Well, I'd prefer a map… but I think I can take us in the general direction, yes – and I think I at least know how to get close enough to the surface for Voyager to pick up the locator beacon."

Chakotay said nothing, and she looked up to find her first officer watching her with open affection.

"What?"

He shook his head, and nodded his chin to indicate the familiar posture she'd adopted. "I've missed that," he said, quietly. "I've missed… you."

Kathryn cleared her throat and glanced away, suddenly flustered and annoyed with herself for it. She could have said, given that they'd spent more time alone together in this place than anywhere else for several years, that she didn't understand what he meant. Except that she did. In fact, seeing him here, in this greater light, it occurred to her that though to him she still looked like herself, to her he was significantly changed. It wasn't just the weight he'd lost, but the facial hair that was now bordering on becoming a full beard. She felt a sudden urge to put her hands to his cheeks, to reassure herself that the face she had so cherished in her memories was still there somewhere beneath it. But they had no time for such absurdities.

"Let's move," she said, instead. "They know we've gone - they won't stop searching."

Chakotay nodded, smiling again, although to Janeway the expression seemed to be oddly inward.

They kept to the walls of the tunnels – they were wider here, but still hewn from the same grey stone – moving quickly and as quietly as possible. The adrenaline of her encounter with the abyss gradually faded and Janeway began to be aware of her injuries. A persistent ache in her side suggested a cracked rib or two, and the rough rasp of her garment against her stomach made her realise she'd sustained at least a few lacerations as she'd dangled there over the sharp jaws of the deep. Still, the certainty she felt as to their location spurred her on. If she was right, they were so close to freedom it was almost possible to taste it. A series of lifts led from these levels to the surface, supported by access tunnels of metal stairs that ran parallel to the lift shafts in case of failure. If they could make it to one of these, they'd have a clear path of ascent – and even though their captors were searching for them, finding them would be a different story entirely. Even if the searchers correctly assumed their quarry had found a way out of the lower tunnels so quickly – which was unlikely – there was a vast area to cover.

The further they moved, the more activity they encountered. Fixed lights appeared in the walls, a warm yellow glow that belied the cold, stark reality of the rock around them. Several times they hustled to find shelter as movement disturbed the air ahead, and they ducked into narrower corridors that led away from the main tunnel, huddling close together in a motion that Janeway immediately counselled herself was unnecessary and yet did nothing to prevent. It seemed that after so many weeks of touch instead of sight, shaking the habit of physical contact wasn't easy.

They were lucky, right the way up to the point where their luck ran out.

Slipping around a corner, Janeway and Chakotay hurried straight into a party of three miners. The two groups froze, facing each other, and in that moment, Kathryn made an awful discovery.

Two males and one female – small humanoids dressed in dull grey work overalls, their thin, unhappy faces smudged with grime and bruises, their large eyes wide and scared. She had seen these faces before, with happier expressions.

They were Dorai.

Janeway turned to look at Chakotay, and the faint current of shock she saw pass through his eyes told her they had reached the same conclusion.

The Vorbrath used a slave race to run their mining operations. That slave race, it was evident now, was the docile, innocent, eager-to-please and not at all aggressive Dorai.

Kathryn looked at the three damaged people before her and felt a deep, penetrating shame. Her father's voice echoed in her head, the memory of a statement he had always been fond of quoting – an old adage he had endeavoured to live by, and bring his daughters up to live by, too.

All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.

She'd always thought of herself as one of the good people. She'd always tried to be. And yet she hadn't done anything except walk away when she'd found out this place was mined by slaves…

Chakotay moved to step in front of her, perhaps to stave off some imagined attack. Blinking rapidly, one of the Dorai glanced at the other two and put two fingers up to his lips. Then he beckoned to the two Voyager crewmembers, whispering something in a low, melodic language that even without the help of the Universal Translator seemed to be indicating they should follow, quickly. The other two Dorai reached up and pulled the hoods over the heads of the fleeing prisoners, concealing Kathryn and Chakotay's faces before assuming positions behind them.

"Captain?"

"Go with it," she whispered, her gut making a decision that rationality might have otherwise denied.

The group moved off, twisting and turning through passages, more than once passing other parties of workers who were too engrossed in their own tasks and too fearful of what they assumed were two Vorbrath overseers and their attendants to take a good look.

At length the Dorai who was leading them stopped at a sheer rock face, into which had been built a door. Looking swiftly right and left, the slave pushed it open and rushed Janeway and Chakotay inside. They all crowded into the base of a narrow shaft that housed a steep staircase, winding up and away above their heads.

The gentle alien pointed upwards, and then held up both hands, six digits extended, before following with another pointing gesture towards the steps.

"What does that mean?" Janeway asked in a whisper. "Six levels to the surface?"

The Dorai repeated the gestures, more urgently this time. It was clear they were to go, and quickly.

Janeway held out a hand. "Come with us." She indicated between them and then over her shoulder to the stairs. "Come."

The Dorai shook his head and stepped away. He repeated the pointing movement again. Chakotay rested his hand on her shoulder.

"Captain. We should do as they say."

Janeway nodded. "Thank you," she said, and then, uselessly, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

They left the three slaves there and began to move up the stairs, their bound feet mercifully silent against the ridged metal steps. When they reached the first turn, Kathryn looked down. In the dim light she could just make out the three faces of their saviours, watching them go.

[TBC]