Seven of Nine - Christie Golden [41]
Priana jumped, startled at the shout in her mind.
Yes, Tamaak?
The elder, who had always frightened her just a little even as she knew he was a kind and wise leader, had fixed her with an angry stare. What is this? What have you been doing to the lieutenants Paris and Torres?
N-nothing.... But one could not lie convincingly in a mental link.
He strode toward her, forcing the thoughts from her shield. Hot embarrassment and fear of Tamaak's reprisal coursed through her as he saw what she had been thinking, doing, and dreaming. His face grew first angry, then sad. Gently, to Priana's surprise, he placed a paw on her shoulder.
Oh, Priana... I thought you knew better than this.
So what if she has taken a fancy to Paris? interrupted Imraak. He is an inferior species. If Priana wants to make him forget about this Torres and devote himself to her for the duration of this journey, why shouldn't she?
Tamaak whirled. He opted for speech, so that even the weakest telepath among them could understand the full depth of his outrage. "For millennia, ever since our brains evolved to the point where we could read and send thoughts, we realized the invasion of free will this could pose," he growled, drawing himself up to his full height as he advanced on Imraak. "We respected the barriers of others. We do not probe their thoughts unless we are invited, we do not force our will on others-" "And what are we doing on this ship right now?" retorted Imraak, also speaking aloud. "Are your morals so flexible that you can pick and choose exactly where and how you will exercise them?"
"That is a different situation, and you know it, Imraak! That is the goal of our people, our very race.
This-this whim of Priana's is selfish and hurtful and I will not permit her to continue!"
Priana was mortified. She wished she could melt through the floor.
She lowered her head and covered it with her arms, whimpering. All along, she had known it was wrong. But Paris was so appealing, even in his human ugliness, so sweet and clever and funny... and only that ridge-headed, sour-tempered engineer stood between them.
It had been so easy. It was done almost before she realized it.
Suddenly pain ripped through her and she gasped.
Her face felt like it was on fire. She groaned, sinking back on her powerful hindquarters as the agony shuddered through her. It was all she could do to erect a quick block against the onslaught of Tom's thoughts and think clearly herself.
All of the Skedans were staring at her now. Some of them looked pained themselves and she knew her thoughts had bled into theirs. She turned huge, wet eyes to Tamaak. He is hurt. He might be dying. I must go o him!
Before they could stop her she was out the door, her long, strong legs carrying her swiftly down the corridor. Her people followed her, crying for her to stop, but she ignored them. She reached the turbolift, stumbled inside and cried, "Sickbay!" They reached the door just as it was closing-too late to stop her.
Tom. Tom. I'm sorry. I'm coming....
The door to sickbay hissed open and Torres entered. Her gaze scanned the room full of injured and found the one she had come to see. Her heart pounding, uncertain of her reception, she walked toward him.
He looked dreadful, but he'd be all right. It didn It appear that there was anything that a dermal regenerator wouldn't fix. She breathed a sigh of relief and the knot in her gut untied for an instant, than wrapped itself up again as someone else came in the door.
Priana scurried up to Tom's side, panting from exertion. She reached out a three-fingered paw as if to place it on Tom's hand.
"Don't you touch him," growled Torres.