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However, she was unconvinced that Tuvok was managing to cope with his actions even in a healthy Vulcan way. She sensed turmoil in his mind, a shame as intense as Orilly’s, and it did not seem to her that his meditative efforts to process it were gaining any ground—at least, not based on the disordered jumble of keetharablocks and kal-tohsticks which she glimpsed over his shoulder when he declined to invite her into his quarters. She did not know Tuvok that well; although she had spent time with many of Voyager’s crew as they adjusted to their return home, Tuvok had remained aloof. But it was clear enough that he was as stubborn as any Vulcan she had ever met. In this case, though, she feared that his stubbor
Attempting to recruit Tuvok’s wife to help gained her little. “He has not spoken to me about it,” T’Pel told Dea
“You’re his wife,T’Pel. He can’t shut you out if you don’t let him. And he needs you to be there for him.”
T’Pel gave no outward reaction. “Tuvok has always been self-reliant. We have spent many years apart, and he has done well enough without my presence.”
“Maybe,” Dea
The older, chocolate-ski
“Besides,” T’Pel went on, “there is nothing I can offer him. I am not a healer. I know no mental discipline techniques with which my husband is not already familiar; indeed, I know far fewer, for I have not required the mental training of a Starfleet security officer.”
Underneath T’Pel’s words, Dea
It was an issue Dea
“That is not a very Vulcan sentiment, Counselor.”
“Isn’t it? What about the ship’s own motto? ‘Infinite diversity in infinite combinations.’ Surak himself taught that we’re stronger when we join together with others—that the interaction of different beings, different minds, can produce unexpected and valuable synergies. You and Tuvok may both be Vulcans, but you’re still different people, and that in itself gives you something to offer him. You just have to reach out and share it with him.”
T’Pel raised a brow. “That is an unconventional interpretation of Surak. However, I find it logical. I shall endeavor to follow your advice.”
“Thank you, T’Pel.” At least it’s a start,Dea
“Bridge to Captain Riker.”
As a Starfleet officer, Will Riker was trained to wake from a sound sleep at a moment’s notice. Over twenty years of experience had enabled him to hone the skill. Unfortunately, neither training nor experience could make him enjoy it. The late-night call from Hachesa on the bridge meant he’d have to give up having Dea
Most of all, it meant there was trouble. “Riker here,” he said reluctantly, feeling Dea
“We having intruders on the bridge, sir. Captain Qui’hibra and two others have just beam aboard without warning. He is demand to speak with you at oncely, sir.”
Riker groaned softly, as much at the gamma shift commander’s mangled syntax as his unwelcome news. (“It wouldn’t be so bad,” Dea
Qui’hibra’s voice overrode him. “I will not play games, Riker. There is no time. What I have brought you to see is begi
Riker exchanged a look with Dea
Though he was tempted to drag his feet as a show of protest, Riker was eager to get answers, so he dressed and made his way to the bridge as quickly as possible, Dea
“Elder Qui’hibra,” he greeted his intruder curtly, then looked at the others behind him, another male and a crestless female. “And these are?”
“My clan matriarch and daughter, Qui’chiri. And Hunter Se’hraqua, who is here to witness the cost of his negligence. There is no time for pleasantries, Riker—the Great Hounding has begun.”
Qui’hibra gestured at the screen with a small tilt of his head; clearly he was not one for melodrama. Riker stepped down to the center of the bridge for a better view—and his eyes widened.
On the screen, hundreds of Pa’haquel ships were swarming around something… immense.It was cylindrical, rounded, pocked like an asteroid, yet it was under thrust, firing discrete blasts of blue-hot plasma from a sort of rocket nozzle at the far end, and expelling jets from side openings to maneuver. Some of the jets seemed to be aimed at the attackers. Seven enormous spines extended outward from its body, each one the stem for a vast sail; the sails overlapped like flower petals to form a wide, diaphanous skirt around the creature’s body. It was clearly a living thing, and the Pa’haquel were clearly trying to change that, barraging it with heavy fire. No, not just the Pa’haquel—Riker realized that some of the attacking ships were different in design, not armored jellies but more conventional starships. But they were like wasps swarming around an elephant. He winced as a maneuvering jet hit a hunter skymount dead-on. The saucer was blasted away into an uncontrolled spin, leaking fluids into space. This was the Great Hounding? Some kind of mighty hunt to prove themselves? Why drag him all this way to show him this?