String Theory_ Fusion (Book 2) - Kirsten Beyer [127]
“I guess it could be worse,” Neelix muttered.
Suddenly there was a low cracking noise from behind them both. Once, years ago, Chakotay had agreed to go ice skating on a holographic lake with a fellow Academy cadet he’d found charming. Apart from confirming his bitter distaste for cold-weather activities, Chakotay had received a near-hypothermia-inducing lesson in the sound thin ice made when it was about to give way. The sound that was now meeting his ears from more than one location behind him indicated in no uncertain terms that something solid was slowly weakening and about to rupture.
He didn’t have to turn his head to understand what was happening. He clearly remembered the stasis chambers that lined the room and the hundreds, probably thousands of beings which were held in those chambers.
“It’s worse,” Chakotay replied.
The creatures continued their attacks on Phoebe. Chakotay could barely make out Seven’s lithe form, staying as low to the floor as she could, but failing to find a clear path through the throng. Dozens of Monorhans had surrounded Chakotay’s rucksack and seemed intent on thwarting anyone who might approach.
“We have to get away from these walls,” Chakotay shouted to Neelix.
“Why?” Neelix asked.
The answer came in the form of a deafening crunch as a casing gave way. It had housed a creature more than three meters high with four appendages attached to its exoskeleton, each terminating in sharp pincers. Disoriented, the creature stumbled from its stasis chamber, barely missing Neelix’s head as it fell.
More loud crunches followed, as Chakotay pushed Neelix toward Seven, into the melee.
“Don’t look!” he ordered. “Just run!”
Janeway’s first response was to order B’Elanna to the bridge.
“Bring the impulse engines online and release the docking clamps. Force your way free if you have to. Take shields and structural integrity to maximum, and wait for my order. If you don’t hear from me in eight minutes, get Voyager to safety.”
“But…” B’Elanna started to argue.
“There’s no time for explanations, B’Elanna. I have to get to the Key. If Phoebe was serious about bringing it to me, she’d already be here. If I’m not back with Chakotay’s team by then, we’re not coming back.”
B’Elanna forced a stoic nod and an “Aye, Captain” before calling for Vorik to join her and hurrying from the room.
Assylia was still crouched on the floor, sobbing. The Doctor had moved to her side and was attempting to murmur some words of comfort, which were obviously having no effect whatsoever on the broken woman.
Tuvok stood immobile, watching Assylia with the same curious eyes that had been fixed upon her since her strange request of someone called Naviim.
Moving directly into his line of sight, Janeway said, “Tuvok?”
His eyes blinked rapidly and then took on a more familiar expression.
“Captain,” he replied.
Physical displays of affection had never been part of the unspoken vocabulary of their long relationship, but the bittersweet pain of this moment overwhelmed her and she placed a delicate hand on the area of the glowing creature that rested above his heart as her eyes brimmed with tears.
“You said that you would enter the final stage of transformation willingly,” she said.
“That is correct,” he replied.
“Then it isn’t too late?”
“Too late for what?” he asked.
“The Doctor might still be able to save you,” she said urgently, “If you will allow him to.”
Tuvok met Janeway’s fervent gaze. His eyes, usually filled with cold and dark resolve, were lit with an emotion Janeway was certain she had never seen there. It was a mixture of kindness and regret.
“I would not choose another course, Captain, nor would I have one chosen for me,” he said.
“But, Tuvok…” Janeway implored, the breadth and depth of the loss she was faced with tensing between