Star Trek®: Mirror Universe: Shards and Shadows

by Marco Palmieri

  Her eyes flew open, but Kes managed to cling to the mind link she had formed. She couldn’t sink in further because of the pain, the excruciating pain.

  “Stop it!” B’Elanna screamed, putting her hands to her head. “Shut up! Shut up!”

  Kes was looking through B’Elanna’s eyes down at a Terran slave tied naked to the table in front of her. The young man’s protests weren’t uttered out loud, but they filled B’Elanna’s head until she couldn’t get away, as if she herself were crying out, “No!”

  B’Elanna bent over, clutching her hair while still holding the pick she had been using to torment the slave. Small beads of blood decorated his smooth belly and chest like a broken necklace.

  “I can’t stand it!” B’Elanna gasped.

  Kes realized that B’Elanna couldn’t shield her mind. Here was proof that Crell Moset had successfully resequenced her DNA using Kes’s genetic material. But unlike Kes, B’Elanna couldn’t yet control her ability; she was always hearing the thoughts of others. They played even through her dreams at night.

  Kes could see it all: B’Elanna had been triumphant at first when she realized she could sense what everyone around her was thinking. She trusted Crell Moset because he longed for nothing more than elevating his own status, which he would achieve through his breakthrough with B’Elanna. Kes sensed that he was more than ready to leave, but their return had to be handled carefully. They would have the advantage if B’Elanna could master her new abilities. Rather than dwell on the potential negative consequences of his scientific greed, Moset was distracting himself nicely with a Cardassian bath girl.

  Mercifully, Ishka was a blank, as were other Ferengi B’Elanna had encountered. Ishka had funded Moset’s research in the hopes that both it and B’Elanna’s telepathic power would benefit her financially. Unfortunately, B’Elanna couldn’t bear to go into the city because of the barrage of thoughts she encountered, so she could only be helpful when Ishka had brought home non-Ferengi business associates.

  Frenzied was Kes’s overriding impression. B’Elanna did nothing but wrestle with her telepathy, practicing with every person in the complex, hating the constant babble. The effort was slightly more bearable when she got to indulge her sexual appetites.

  Splayed out on the table for her amusement, the slave whimpered, his dusky skin glistening with sweat. She had once reveled in the sight of the lovers secured for her use, making them endure whatever she did to them. The power of holding a life in your hand, of feeling that ultimate pleasure flow through your body…

  “tlhomaS,” B’Elanna said out loud. Thomas had belonged to her in every way, and he had never protested at her touch, crying out wordlessly when the pain was too much for him to bear. She had pushed him as hard as she could without killing him. For a while after Monor Base was destroyed, she had created a hologram of Thomas to satisfy herself, but that was too pathetic, and she had returned to using Ishka’s slaves.

  B’Elanna wondered if Thomas had begged in his mind as this slave was doing. Make it stop! he silently pleaded. All of the slaves bargained for their lives, even the ones who didn’t believe in supreme beings. He strained his neck to see the blood seeping from the wounds in his stomach and chest, as his wrists jerked against the restraints that bound his limbs to each leg of the table. Make it stop! Please, make it stop! I’ll give you anything, do anything, if only you make it stop!

  B’Elanna glared at him. They all begged for help, unable to accept what was happening to them. She found herself mouthing the words along with the slave’s thoughts until they became her own. Make it stop…Please, make it stop!

  Her hand tightened on the pick. The grip was cast from her own hand, fitting her like a glove, with a hand span of silver plasteel sharpened to a razor point. “Make it stop!” B’Elanna shouted. She lifted the pick over the slave’s heart.

  Kes realized that B’Elanna was going to silence him for good. In that horrifying moment, Kes wanted to blast B’Elanna with her mind, but she didn’t have the strength to penetrate the thick rock wall between them.

  Desperate to do something, anything, Kes tugged on B’Elanna’s thoughts, like teasing fiber into a thread and drawing it closer. The point of the pick wavered, and Kes tugged harder. B’Elanna’s wrist turned until the pick was aimed at her own face. Kes encouraged B’Elanna, Yes, make it stop. This is how to make the terrible noise stop. Blessed silence at last…

  Looking through B’Elanna’s eyes as the point neared her face, Kes felt a spike of fear. It felt as if she were about to kill herself. Her fear seeped into B’Elanna, and she began to struggle.

  With a last gasping effort, Kes jerked the pick toward her face. But B’Elanna turned her wrist, slashing it down. It pierced the slave’s eye. B’Elanna screamed along with the Terran, as his death cries vibrated between them. The slave had a gory red pit where his eye once was, with the handle of the pick protruding from it. His body jerked convulsively against his restraints, then settled heavily as his last breath escaped.

  Kes broke her mind link, screaming. Tuvok supported her to keep her from falling to the floor. “She killed him!” She gasped. “She killed a helpless man! I tried, but I couldn’t stop her, Tuvok. I couldn’t!”

  Tuvok put his arm around her stiffly, unaccustomed to such things. It seemed that he truly cared about her. She was comforted by that, and by his assurances. She gave him confirmation that B’Elanna was indeed now a telepath, but her failure to prevent the man’s death made her weep. “You can’t expect to succeed in your first try, Kes. At least, now we know you can reach her.”

  Relaxing in his arms, she wished for a moment that Tuvok was Neelix. She felt bad, because Tuvok was trying to give her what she needed. But she couldn’t stop thinking about the slave whose name she didn’t know.

  B’Elanna let go of the pick that was still in the slave’s eye and took a step back. “What the chay’!” She looked down at her own hand, suddenly alien to her, remembering how it had brought the tip of the pick closer to her eye. She had been mesmerized by the shiny point, with a tiny drop of the slave’s blood hanging from the tip.

  “Have I lost my mind?” she cried out loud.

  The slave was dead, the pick in his left eye. That was exactly how she had killed Thomas—by throwing her d’k tahg into his left eye, after he had betrayed her.

  She bent over, clutching her stomach, feeling the loss again like a physical blow. She’d had no feelings after she had killed Thomas, but the unfathomable, infuriating pain that filled her in the days that followed betrayed the true depth of her feelings for him, however she might deny them. She hated herself for it.

  In revulsion, she stared down at the slave. She, who had once playfully dabbled in her victims’ blood, couldn’t bear to pull the pick from his brain. The blood was too alive with memories. She could still feel him in her own mind, thinking his thoughts as if they were her own.

  “I killed myself,” B’Elanna murmured, not sure what she meant. But she did know with a sinking certainty that he would be the last Terran she ever tortured. She couldn’t bear to have their fear and pain become part of her. It made her feel…weak. Like them.

  Because the rock walls of the tunnel prevented Kes from attacking B’Elanna with lethal psionic force, manipulation was her only option. Kes could take it for only so long, and she had to retreat to recover between each attempt. At dinner, she tried to make B’Elanna slice her own wrist with her eating knife but succeeded only in enraging her. Then, as B’Elanna dreamed, Kes planted a compulsion to shoot herself with her disruptor. On waking, B’Elanna went so far as to turn the emitter around to herself, but her finger jerked spasmodically before Kes could make her press down on the trigger. Instead, B’Elanna threw the disruptor away with a snarl, her thoughts of destruction turning to other victims both dead and alive—on Cestus III, Monor Base, even her own mother, whom she had unsuccessfully attempted to poison.

  Kes fled her mind in horror.

  “You are identifying too c
losely with your target,” Tuvok patiently reminded her. “Your instinctive fear of death is preventing you from completing your mission.”

  “How can I not identify with her? The reason B’Elanna is telepathic is that my own DNA was spliced with hers.”

  “Center yourself properly, Kes, as you have been taught. Do not lose yourself.”

  But it was impossible to distance herself from the vicious swirl of B’Elanna’s thoughts. The Klingon hybrid’s failure to master her telepathy had ignited the old wounds of her dual heritage. B’Elanna couldn’t face her greatest fear—she wanted to kill herself for the same reason she hurt her Terran lovers, because she herself was part Terran. Her mother had always declared that B’Elanna had the heart of a Klingon. But perhaps that wasn’t true. She had failed in command twice now and had shown a weakness that was disturbingly Terran.

  Kes couldn’t understand how B’Elanna could despise Terrans yet be so obsessed with them. But B’Elanna’s memories of Thomas were filled with a deep craving even as she sliced his flesh and breathed deep of his burnt skin. She dwelt on how his eyelashes had quivered, beaded with teardrops during their sessions, and the way his raspy voice after too many screams made her long to have his hands on her body. She had gazed into his brilliant blue eyes for hours, it seemed, soaking in every nuance of his reactions.

  It made Kes feel soiled. Her only comfort was the true love she shared with Neelix, sustaining her even while they were apart.

  Kes began avoiding B’Elanna’s mind and instead tried to push one of the others in the complex into killing her. When a Terran slave passed B’Elanna carrying a propellant tank for a personal pod, Kes tried to make him bash B’Elanna over the head with it. But the slave crumpled against a wall, so cowed by fear that his body shut down at the very idea.

  Ishka was useless, because she was head-blind. Crell Moset wasn’t swayed by Kes’s prodding, because he fervently wanted to present B’Elanna to the Alliance to prove his research. Now that his work was completed, he mostly thought about Seska’s naked body. The rebel spy had not yet indulged his desire, but she had come close, and Moset’s elaborate fantasies needed no more assistance. Kes came out of her immersion with his mind grateful that he didn’t mix violence with pleasure and amused by how sincerely the old, respected scientist wished to abase himself before the lowly bath girl.

  From the other room, she heard, “…I thought we could deploy the remote probe through the ventilation system, but Seska suggested she plant it on Moset tonight. We should target B’Elanna first to make it easier to infiltrate the complex and destroy their research.”

  Tuvok replied, “What are the chances of the security system detecting your device?”

  Kes went to the arched doorway. Tuvok was standing in front of the screen mounted on the wall with his back to her. A young man with a round, boyish face was using a lot of technical words in his answer. Despite his enthusiasm, he never smiled, and his narrow eyes remained oddly flat.

  When he finished, Tuvok agreed, “I will allow you to attempt it, Harry.”

  “I’ll have to come to your location to operate the remote probe.” When Tuvok hesitated, Harry added impatiently, “I can’t set up outside their ventilation grill, Tuvok. The rock wall should be thin enough there that my equipment can penetrate.”

  Tuvok nodded. “Very well.”

  Kes cleared her throat to let Tuvok know she was there. As he turned, the image on the screen was replaced by a different man with a crown of wispy hair and arcs of yellow, red, and orange spots across his head. Neelix.

  But Neelix’s usual cheery expression was gone. The bones of his skull protruded too sharply, as if he hadn’t eaten in months, making hollows of his cheeks and dulling the once-iridescent colors of his skin. At first, she thought he was sick. Then she realized he was in pain.

  “Neelix!” she cried out.

  He apparently couldn’t see or hear her, because he was reporting to Tuvok. “All secure here in the crater. I had to recharge the alpha battery because of—”

  “Understood. Tuvok out,” Tuvok interrupted.

  Kes ran up to him, seeing Neelix’s puzzlement at his abrupt dismissal as his image winked out. “Neelix is here? You didn’t tell me! Call him back, Tuvok, so I can talk to him.”

  “That is not acceptable at this time. In his surprise, Mr. Neelix could reveal that you are alive to Harry or Seska.”

  Her heart was pounding from the shock of seeing Neelix. Tuvok had deliberately concealed his presence from her.

  “Tuvok! Neelix wouldn’t do anything to hurt me. If you’re that worried, he can come live with me. Even trapped underground would be better for him than that.” She gestured to the screen, where she could still almost see his skeletal image.

  “Too many questions would be raised by his disappearance.”

  “I have to tell him, Tuvok. I never should have let you claim I was dead. It was wrong. Look at how he’s been suffering! I’m as bad as B’Elanna, torturing the man I love.”

  “It was necessary.”

  “Was it? I was so desperate to learn how to control my powers, and scared by how easy it was to murder those people, that I let you take care of me. I gave up everything so I could pretend it wasn’t my fault. I wanted to feel safe and innocent again. But that was wrong.”

  “Kes, if the Alliance discovers you are alive, they will stop at nothing to get to you. And if they succeed, that will end the rebellion. Your supposed death is the only thing that has saved us all.”

  A cold spike of fear went through her at his words. It was hard to believe, but it was true. “You never intended to tell Neelix that I’m alive. You lied to me.”

  There was no trace of shame in Tuvok’s reply. “You are correct, we cannot tell Mr. Neelix. His current state is the surest indication that you are indeed dead and not hidden away somewhere. Alliance moles in the rebellion may be watching him, and they would see the change in his demeanor.”

  “I can’t keep torturing him!”

  “The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Or the one, Kes.”

  With a wordless cry, Kes slipped the leash on her mind, the fragile cord that held back her killing power. She lashed out at the man who had lied to and manipulated her. She wanted nothing more than to destroy him to get to Neelix.

  As the killing burst swelled inside her head, with white-hot spears of pain exploding from within, Tuvok grabbed the side of her face with one hand. His fingertips pressed in as his other arm circled her back, keeping her from twisting away.

  Kes struggled, glaring into his eyes. He had been her friend only to control her. He would shut her away forever in that underground base with his people as her watchdogs.

  She would never see the sky again, never see her beloved Neelix again.

  She fought for her life, trying to escape his grasp, trying to resist the intrusive waves of his thoughts. If she could break free, she would have the advantage, but under his hand, she couldn’t resist. Her raw talent couldn’t beat his lifetime of training.

  His thoughts became her thoughts. She swam in his reasoning for making Neelix believe she was dead and felt his regret and responsibility for Neelix’s suffering. Someday Kes might see Neelix, but not soon, not this year, at least, an eternity for a short-lived creature like herself. She could sense through Tuvok the millions of lives that hung in the balance and knew that she could be the cause of their deaths if the Alliance acquired her powers.

  Kes felt herself calming down, breathing in rhythm with Tuvok, becoming as emotionless as he was. His detachment was soothing. She didn’t have to feel bad for endangering so many people simply by being alive. Her pain lifted away, and she no longer wanted to kill him. She understood why he had lied to her, though she still thought Neelix should be told.

  In that last moment before Tuvok released her, shame flooded through her. She had sworn she would never kill in rage again. She had betrayed herself even more than Tuvok had betrayed her.

  “You
could not have killed me.” Tuvok let go of her and stepped back. “Everyone from Memory Omega has developed a technique for shielding ourselves against the particular psionic frequency you emit to kill.”

  She swallowed her resentment, carefully controlling her expression. “Good to know.”

  Tuvok gazed down at her, exactly the same as always. As if Kes weren’t flushed and her blackened hair weren’t ruffled up from wrestling against him a moment ago. She touched the tender spots on her cheek and jaw. She would have bruises there tomorrow, five oval marks where his fingertips had dug in.

  “I sincerely regret hurting you, Kes. I consider you to be one of my friends, despite how this appears.”

  She wanted to throw his words back in his face, but she was at his mercy. Even worse, Neelix was at his mercy. To protect the rebellion, Tuvok would kill Neelix if he had to. He would also kill her, she was sure of it. He had not meant to reveal that much in his mind-meld, but she was stronger than he knew.

  She had managed to hide her true thoughts within that genuine burst of shame she had felt at the end. She never should have lashed out at him like that. It was a deplorable loss of control. No, she would have to lay her plans carefully if she was going to get out of this alive with Neelix.

  “I know you mean well—you’ve taken responsibility for the welfare of your people,” she forced herself to say. “I’ll work on this mission with you because I understand what you’re fighting for. But don’t expect me ever to trust you again, Tuvok.”

  When Harry came to their tunnel to commence the remote probe attack on B’Elanna, Kes did as Tuvok requested and hid behind a mosaic screen that blocked the archway to the other room. Kes didn’t need to see Harry; she sank slowly into his mind.

  Harry was nearly as bloodthirsty as B’Elanna, but he kept his rage contained. He wouldn’t be satisfied until every Klingon in the galaxy was ripped to pieces, and then he’d gladly go back and rip those into smaller pieces. Funny how much space the need for revenge takes up in a man’s mind, Kes mused. She resolved to remember this lesson.