Star Trek_ Generations - J M. Dillard [13]
Soran gazed up at the fearsome sight on the viewscreen and smiled grimly. The ribbon looked like blazing doom, like the Borg death rays that had carved up his homeworld. They had come for him at last, to allow him to die as he was meant to, as Leanalta and Emo and Mara had.
The shuddering ship reeled, stricken.
At last, Soran thought. Amid the screams, the chaotic ballet of tumbling bodies, he sat with arms folded tight about his knees, and let himself be tossed.
The bulkheads around him began to crumple; a shard of metal debris stung his forehead, sending blood trickling over his brow, into his eye. Yet Soran merely smiled.
And in the midst of the tumult, the light lashed forth, piercing the bulkhead to crackle in their very midst, lifting the hairs on Sorans head, arms, the back of his neck. He filled his lungs, embracing death, waiting for dissolution, his mind focused on a solitary thought:
Leandra …
Darkness. Stillness. Silence.
So this is it, he thought with amazement. Death … Yet he was still aware of his own consciousness, and that awareness brought with it disappointment. He had hoped to dissolve into nothingness, thoughtlessness, the void. But here he was, listening to his own breathing, his own heartbeat … aware of the movement of cool, moist air against his skin. And the warm flesh of another against his.
He opened his eyes to darkness. Not total blackness, for beyond the open window, stars twinkled, sending down their gentle light. He stirred, and felt the soft, yielding velvet of bedclothes beneath his bare back, heard the gentle cascade of breaking ocean waves, smelled the subtle fragrance of brine mixed with the aroma of exotic flora.
Even in the dimness, he knew: This was Talaal, the resort where he had spent his wedding night.
He turned on his side and found her lying beside him, her face limned silver by starglow, her dark hair long and soft, scented like the flowers.
Leandra, he whispered, and wept, the dam of pent-up emotion finally breaking. He slid his arms around her and held her to his heart, burying his face in her hair. Miracle of miracles, she was solid, warmno dream, but real, truly here in his arms.
Leanalta, oh gods, dear gods, Leandra …
The universe was once again sane, just.
Tolian? she murmured sleepily. Darling, what is it? His torment brought her back to consciousness. Whats wrong? Were you dreaming?
Yes, dreaming, he said bitterly, lips brushing her hair. Promise me. Promise me youll never leave …
Of course Ill never leave you, Tolian. You know that.
But what
Her image faded, paled like a vanishing ghost. He cried out, horrified to find that he no longer clasped her soft solid body, but empty air. Yet he could see her faintly before him, a ribbon of moonlight illuminating her lovely face, her troubled eyes. See her, and not touch her …
Leandra! he cried, but he could not hear the words that issued from her moving lips. At the same time, he became aware of another reality enveloping them, surrounding them: he was standing with the refugees from the Lakul aboard a different shipa Federation ship.
No! Soran screamed with fury and grief, clawing at Leandras outstretched hand; his own passed through empty air. Noooo …!
For a fleeting instant, Pavel Chekov paused in the open doorway and stared in awenot at the state-of-the-art medical equipment, or the sleeker, more spacious sickbay design, but at the horrific tableau within.
Some fifty Lakul survivorsall graceful humanoids, the last remnants of the long-lived El Aurian racelay draped unconscious over diagnostic beds, sat stunned on the carpets, or huddled moaning against bulkheads. It was not their physical injuries that made Chekov and the two reporters who flanked him briefly recoil. Most seemed relatively unscathedin body, at least; but what horrified Chekov most was the look in the El Aurians eyes, a look he knew he would never be able to forget.
He could not shake the notion that he had just walked into an eighteenth-century madhouse.
Those conscious stared at some distant, alluring sight, one so beautiful that