Orion's Hounds

She nodded. During her work counseling the returned Voyagercrew, she had become acquainted with most of their adventures. Suder had been a Betazoid, one of the Maquis rebels who had been integrated into Voyager’s crew. A violent sociopath, he had murdered another crewman. Since life imprisonment in the brig was not an option, Tuvok had attempted to rehabilitate Suder, using a mind-meld to teach him Vulcan control. In turn he had taken Suder’s violent emotions into himself and had difficulty controlling them. “You can’t blame yourself for that, Tuvok. Suder was a fellow telepath, and a dangerously unstable personality. There was no way of predicting the side effects.”

“Still, my inability to cope with his violent emotions endangered the crew. And there have been other instances.” Another long pause.

“Go on,” T’Pel told him softly. “It is all right.”

Dea

Her eyes widened. She knew from the records that Tuvok and the ship’s boisterous native guide had been merged by a freakish transporter accident into a single being, integrating both psyches into a distinctive third one. Dea

“I—Tuvix was prepared to condemn both myself and Mr. Neelix to oblivion,” he said, “so that he could live on. In his fear, his selfishness, he was willing to sacrifice two other lives, and to jeopardize the morale and stability of Voyager’s crew.” Dea

Still, she met Tuvok’s eyes and spoke comfortingly. “How can you blame yourself for that? Tuvix was a unique entity, the result of the synergy between you and Mr. Neelix. You can’t attribute any of his actions, his choices, to either of you uniquely.”

“Perhaps. And for a time I was inclined to assume that Tuvix’s resistance to self-sacrifice came from Mr. Neelix. He always possessed…a healthy fear response. However, he repeatedly demonstrated an instinctive regard for others, a willingness to subsume his own needs to those of his shipmates.”

“And you haven’t? Service to others, to the greater good, is a Vulcan ideal.”

“It is a logical ideal, and when I am governed by logic I am able to make that choice. But as part of Tuvix, I was an emotional being—just as much as I am when under the star-jellies’ influence. And I coped poorly with the emotions of fear and self-preservation, making a selfish and irresponsible choice.

“It has been the same ever since. My control is too easily compromised, and when it is, my judgment is dangerously unreliable.” He fell into memory, shaking his head slowly. She sensed he was contemplating the horrors of his imprisonment on Romulus, but he did not choose to address it. But he gripped his wife’s hand more firmly. “When I felt the jellies’ anguish, their need…I knew I was out of control, but I did not wantto regain it. I chose to betray my duty, Counselor. I chose to assault and injure Lieutenant Pazlar, to violate her mind. I knew it was wrong and I did not care.”

“Your priorities were distorted by the jellies’ influence. That’s all.”

“And it is enough to prove that I ca

It was no random example, Dea

“As can I,” T’Pel told him with confidence.

“And I can help you do the same, if you’ll let me. Even if, for the sake of argument, you’re right about having less emotional control than most Vulcans, maybe the problem is that you’ve been relying on Vulcan techniques—techniques which are designed to set aside emotion, rather than accepting its presence and letting it inform your judgment constructively. Maybe you could benefit from a more Betazoid approach.”

Tuvok pondered her words, but remained unconvinced. “Even if your training could help me, it would take time to master. Months, possibly years. It is not a feasible option in the current situation.”

Dea

Tuvok frowned. “But if that portion of your mind is so occupied…then it will not be available to you. You will not be able to block their mental pressure.”

She fidgeted. “I know.”

“You would be…helpless against mental intrusion.”

“Yes.” Stop rubbing it in, or I might change my mind.Even though she found the star-jellies’ minds pleasant enough, the prospect of having no control over their access to her mind left her feeling very vulnerable. A touch that was enjoyable when invited could be unbearable when one could not refuse it, as Dea

T’Pel saw her unease. “Perhaps I could be the one to meld with him.”

“Thank you, T’Pel, but no. Neither you nor any of the other psi-sensitives in the crew has the necessary training in shielding techniques. And you’re all on the inhibitor drug. It has to be me,” she finished, a bit shakily.

Tuvok studied her quizzically. “You would do this for me?”

“I would.” Of course it was for the mission as well. But diplomatic officer or no, she was still a therapist first.

“That is…most generous of you, Counselor. But are you certain it would be safe? My last meld with a Betazoid…”

Dea

Tuvok quirked a brow. He exchanged a look with his wife, who simply nodded. “In that case, I agree. And I hope Dr. Ree is also a skilled dentist.”

Chapter Twelve

Melora Pazlar stood at the workstation in her quarters, studying astrometric scan data on pre-main-sequence stars in the RCW-33 region. She had been standing there for hours, enjoying the freedom to do so. Here, in her native gravity, standing was as comfortable as any other posture. Gravity was little more than a handy reference vector, a way to ensure that loose objects would eventually settle themselves against a single surface. The deck was just a convenient perch, kissing her feet with only the gentlest pressure to say “Here I am,” ready to serve as a pushing-off surface when needed but otherwise not imposing. In here the deck would never be forced up against her, compressing her spine and her joints, making her stiff, making her ache all over. In here it would never rise up to slam into her with enough force to smash her bones.