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“Explain.”

“The mineral compound that blocks our transporters has an unusual crystalline formation. It refracts the beam, thereby destabilizing it. But there are sections of the array that do not contain the compound, less than ten percent. If we use the pattern enhancers the away team set up and direct the beam from there through the unaffected sections, I think I can get you in the room.”

“You think?”

“I’ve run a few simulations… in the event the away team couldn’t make it back to the enhancers. I’d just have to reverse the settings,” Clayton replied. “Of course you might want Lieutenant Torres to check my calculations.”

“There isn’t time,” Janeway said, stepping up to the transporter pad. “Do it.”

Clayton took a deep breath and reset the transport parameters. When it was done she said, “Ready, Captain?”

“Energize, Ensign… Clayton, isn’t it?” Janeway asked.

“Yes, Captain,” she replied. “Ensign Grace Clayton.”

“Good work, Grace,” Janeway replied with a tight smile. “Now energize.”

Chapter 16

In Janeway’s abrupt exit she had missed the wave of emotions that washed over Tuvok’s face following her departure. Tuvok’s gaze had shifted to Assylia, still wailing and rocking back and forth inconsolably.

Her pain was a magnet, tearing at the powerful and new emotions that he had discovered in his communion with the transformed Monorhans. His thoughts turned back to the fire… the certainty and peace that now lay within his grasp. Their cool firm simplicity bathed him in peace, bringing him one step closer to the acceptance that would mean his death and release.

But something else, equally powerful, stayed him. He had intentionally severed his link with the Monorhans, those who were waiting so anxiously for him to join their vast and brilliant harmony. He had opened himself to them only once in the last several hours, at Assylia’s request. And though he had sensed Naviim’s presence, and allowed Naviim to move through him for a moment to address his rih, Tuvok was now alone, standing on the precipice of complete abandon and wondering why, now that he had come so far, he was hesitating.

Other than to deactivate the holomatrix, the Doctor was helpless to ease Assylia’s suffering. She was beyond his ministration, or any that could be offered by anyone else.

Except for Tuvok.

He had never before felt compassion.

He understood it. He had seen it in action many times, particularly in his interactions with Janeway and her crew. He knew its value and the absurd lengths to which it often led humans.

But he was completely unprepared for the selflessness of the emotion.

His first contact with the transformed Monorhans had been a tangle of confusion. But once his mind had been opened to them… or by them… he had allowed the struggle to cease and given way to the torrential rain of emotion that had always been buried within him.

This was part of the allure of the new life that was being offered to him. Pure logic was only part of the experience. Logic balanced with emotion… the end of the struggle… was the elusive prize he so desperately sought.

But now that he was no longer able to submerge his feelings beneath a solid layer of logic, he found, much to his surprise, that the choice that lay before him was not as simple as he had believed up to this point.

He could accept that his friends and family… those who loved him… would feel pain when his body died. It was a testament to their devotion to him that they would willingly suffer this pain so that he might take the final step in this journey he had chosen. And it was appropriate that they honor his choice.

But Assylia’s suffering moved him in a way he had never experienced. Even with all of the promise that lay before him, he was not certain he would be able to find complete peace in it, if it meant he had failed to relieve the pain of another whose tortured existence demanded that any being who was sentient of it respond with compassion.

The realization hit him.

He would always regret this choice.

But not as much as the alternative.

His arms were