Flashback - Diane Carey [43]
"Trying, sir."
"Engines off-whoa!"
Chakotay leaned forward. "Paris, report!"
The comm fritzed and squawked for about five seconds, then, "Really rough out here. . . really rough. Makes me wish I was back in that penal colony, serving a nice, safe sentence. Next time Captain Janeway offers me a chance for a new start, remind me to twist her bun a little tighter."
"That's disrespectful, mister," Chakotay reminded. "Stick to your job."
"Yes, sir. Right now I'm stuck to the shuttle's port-bulkhead. B'Elanna says the sirillium collection's going as planned-so far. Stress on the hull is-increasing. Hope we hold together. Sir, I have to leave the helm to help stabilize the tanks."
"Keep the shuttle's comm lines open, Paris. Your commbadges won't carry through that interference."
"Standing by."
Chakotay glanced at the sensor monitor on the starboard side, the one showing a schematic of the turbulence patterns. There was little sense to be made by the constant churning, and if Paris and Kim could detect a corkscrew pattern, more power to them. So far the ship itself was holding steady.
He hoped everything continued to go this well.
And without meaning to, he started to think of sickbay, of Tuvok, and of the captain.
"Are they still in that . . . that . . . weld?"
"Meld," Kes said with a tolerant smile. Neelix was so gentle, and so very unscientific.
Together they gazed through the clear partition from the lab to the main ward, where the captain and Tuvok were once again sitting face-to-face, with Tuvok's hands on the captain's face. Pressure points, Mr. Tuvok had explained to Kes. Changes of nerve connections. Other things. The Vulcan meld was partly physical, as well she had found out.
Neelix was watching her-she could feel his eyes as she worked.
After a moment she had to look up. "Neelix," she began with a little push of encouragement, "I'm fine. You don't have to keep watching me. Before long you're going to have to go start lunch for the next watch, aren't you?"
"Yes," he said unhappily. "But I'd rather not go. I don't like leaving you here with . . . well, that. Him. Them. Like that."
"Tuvok?"
"Yes, Tuvok! Kes-please. Let me take you away. They'll lend us a shuttle. Let's go away from the ship until all this is over. Please."
"Neelix, we don't know how far away this can still affect me. It's a telepathic bond, not a physical one. There's no way to know whether distance will have any effect."
"But the connection's growing and becoming harder on you. You look so tired already. Maybe the others can't tell, but I can. When I hold you, I can tell your heart's pounding. You're shivering. You're very brave, my love, but this is putting terrible stress on you that maybe a Vulcan can take, but you're not Vulcan. You're not."
"The Doctor's been giving me suppressants to control my reactions." She tried to go back to her work, but his sweet concern was distracting. "I can't even leave the sickbay. I'm under restriction."
"We'll get permission!"
"They need me, Neelix."
"Kes . . ." He caught her arm and drew her away from the console. "This isn't right. I demand that this mind thing be broken."
"We don't even know whether that can help me," she told him, letting herself become forceful to match his concerned irrationality. "We don't know anything about this. Tuvok's mind is degrading-" Then she realized she'd said the wrong thing and quickly said, "Other than the captain's succeeding, the only thing we know will break this is Tuvok's death. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"Right now, it means you to me," he said, clasping her by both arms. Beyond the love in his eyes, a terrible, desperate anger rose. "Kes, Tuvok has lived more than a hundred years! You've only lived two!"
Goodness, his face was a clatter of emotions. How sweet and charming to be the one for whom he had all these feelings.
But the meaning of his words and the anger behind his eyes made her unable to receive the love
at this particular moment. She returned his