VOY: Torres, Tuvok
Stepping into the shadowy interior of Cargo Bay 2, B'Elanna shivered as a chill ran across her spine.
"You're alone, everything is fine." She chided herself for letting Chell get to her. Her fellow officer's talk of conspiracy and plots had rattled her more than she'd let on. Even dismissing Chell's ideas as bordering on paranoia, it was good to hear a voice, even her own. The cargo bay was more isolated and ominous than she'd thought it would be.
"Just check the containers and get back to a more populated part of the ship." Talking to herself was a habit she wasn't going to get into, but it helped calm her jittery nerves. On the outside she looked as calm as a Vulcan, but on the inside she was as nervous as a Ferengi on a ship of Klingons.
She found the first container and had it open when a noise from the door caused her to jump and whirl, hand reaching for the phaser at her hip.
As she recognized the newcomer, she breathed an audible sigh of relief. "You almost got yourself shot," she said, smiling, glad to have company.
At the continued silence, she looked back over her shoulder. Tuvok stood closer to her than Tom stood sometimes. "Is there --"
Her relief was short-lived as Tuvok grabbed her upper arms and placed the fingers of his left hand at points on her temple and face. "My thoughts to your thoughts..."
The last thing B'Elanna saw before darkness claimed her was the look of fanatical triumph in Tuvok's dark eyes.