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"If I may be so bold, Selar, might I suggest that, when pondering questions of this nature, logic is the very last discipline you would want to apply." And she stepped out of the turbolift and headed to Engineering.

"Soleta, may I ask your opinion about a personal matter?"

Soleta stared at Burgoyne across hir desk. They had been going over the energy readouts and mysterious percolations of the engines for nearly half an hour, and Soleta had agreed to give the matter a good deal more study, particularly searching for potential analogs to other such occurrences in assorted vessels. It had almost been something of a blessing for her, spending an entire thirty minutes dealing exclusively with matters that pertained to her job description.

But now Burgoyne was seated behind hir desk, hir long, tapered fingers interlaced, and s/he was staring at Soleta with those remarkable dark eyes.

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Apparently under the impression that Soleta hadn't quite heard hir, Burgoyne repeated, "Soleta, may I ask your opinion about a personal matter? I mean, perhaps this is being a bit forward, but after our having worked so closely together when the captain was gone and the commander was out of commission, I feel that we established a kind of connection."

"If you say so," Soleta said.

"Sure," Soleta said more loudly. "Go right ahead, Chief. I assume that this is a question regarding matters of a delicate romantic nature?"

"How did you know?"

"I'm science officer and chief data analyst of this ship, Lieutenant Commander. Would this pertain to Doctor Selar?"

"Partly. Mostly, it's about Mark McHenry. That's why I was asking you. You went to the Academy together, worked closely, so I figured you would have some further insight."

"Oh." That surprised her slightly, but she took it in stride. "Very well. What is the nature of your situation with McHenry?"

"It's just that he may very well have pegged me on something, and I don't completely want to admit it.

I'm very fond of him, and I just wanted to know if you thought that, in the long term, I might be doing him damage."

"Damage? Of a physical nature?"

"No, of an emotional nature."

"Ah, well, yes, as a Vulcan, naturally I would be the ideal person to voice opinions on human emotional durability."

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant," Burgoyne said, looking genuinely apologetic, and s/he started to rise from
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behind hir desk. "I shouldn't be dragging you into this."

"Perhaps not, but here I am in any event," said Soleta as she gestured for Burgoyne to sit down again.

Burgoyne did so. "And McHenry is indeed a longtime associate, although 'friend' may be too strong a word, for in many ways he is almost as incomprehensible to me now as when we were cadets together. Still, of all humans that I have ever encountered, he has always shown a remarkable degree of resilience. Oftentimes it seems to me that almost nothing phases him. Do you wish to tell me precisely what is the nature of your situation?" and she added silently to herself.

"Soleta, you have to understand I'm a very physical person."

She stared at him. "As opposed to a being of pure consciousness, like an Organian?"

"No, I mean . . ." S/he let out a long, unsteady breath. "What's the best way to put this? I had . . .

have . . . very strong feelings for Selar. From the moment I met her, I felt as if we could be something special together. But you understand, I'm hardly a virgin in these matters. There have been other women and men that I've had similar feelings for. I'm very driven by my physical and emotional makeup. I feel an attraction for someone and it's practically overwhelming. And I will do everything I can to make that attraction clear . . . until the physical aspect has been attended to, at which point I feel—what's the best word? Sated. I'm a very curious individual, Soleta."

"I would have to agree with that, Burgoyne."

Burgoyne was about to continue, but then hesitated and clarified. "I meant 'curious' as in 'inquisitive,' not

'curious' as in 'strange.' "

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"Oh. Well, that, too, I suppose."

"And along those lines, I have . . . I had . . . extreme curiosity about Selar. That curiosity drove all other aspects of my personality, as it always does."

"I see. And under ordinary circumstances, having had your curiosity satisfied, you would now be moving on elsewhere."

"That doesn't seem unreasonable to you, does it, Soleta?" Burgoyne leaned forward, and it seemed to Soleta as if s/he was urgently looking for some degree of understanding. "I mean, let's be blunt: It's not as if my lovers aren't curious about me in turn. Don't try to deny it. I'm the only Hermat in Starfleet. I'm used to the looks, the speculation, the whispered discussions that suddenly stop whenever I enter a room.

And I'm fine with that. It's understandable. It's even human. I always assume when I take a lover that he or she is motivated primarily out of curiosity as to what sex with a Hermat is like. My peers are Starfleet personnel. Investigation and exploration is our business. So it only makes sense that exploring each other would be a natural extension of the package. But with Selar there was . . ."

"Something more?" When Burgoyne didn't readily reply, Soleta continued, "The depth of connection that
Pon farr
can foster can be quite intense. To a non-Vulcan, it can even be overwhelming if you are not prepared for it."

"Could
anything
have prepared me for it?"

"Probably not," admitted Soleta.

"So, as I was saying, my curiosity should have been satisfied, and I . . ."

Burgoyne seemed to be having problems phrasing
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it, and Soleta stepped in. "You had problems moving on. Loving her and leaving her, as it was."

"Yes."

"You found you wanted to stay with her. To stay close to her."

"Yes."

"And the problem with that was—?"

"Don't you understand? I didn't know if it was real!" Burgoyne said urgently. "It might have been something forced on me because of
Pan farr.
I didn't know. I don't know even now . . . if the feelings that I'm having are genuine or fake. If I had to go based on my previous involvements, I'd have to say they're not remotely genuine because I've never felt like this before. But if they are ... but I don't know . . ." S/he leaned forward, hir head in hir hands. "It's totally disrupting my peace of mind."

"And so you went running back to McHenry?"

"Mark is familiar. Mark is safe. I understand Mark, understand how he makes me feel. It doesn't have to mean anything with Mark."

"I see. What you wish," Soleta said, "is a succession of partners, one after the other. A variety of assigna-tions that have no more meaning than a passing gust of solar wind. An endless parade of intrigued sexual playmates to satisfy your endless fascination with physical pleasure."

"Exactly," Burgoyne said. "Is that so wrong?"

"I'm not judging good or bad, Burgoyne. I'm not judging at all. To be honest, I'd rather be anywhere else discussing anything else."

"And besides, who are you to talk about emotional attachments? It's not as if that's something at Vulcans are particularly renowned for."

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Peter David

"Perhaps not in the standard human way, no. But we know love."

"That's an emotion. Vulcans don't believe in emotion."

"Oh, honestly, Burgoyne. You make it sound as if Vulcans accord emotion the same level of credibility as we would The Katha Legend. Of course we believe in emotion. Of course we possess emotion. If we didn't have emotions, our lives would be that much easier. What we do is control our emotions, to the best of our abilities. Love, like any other emotion, is something that we regulate. We do not fall in love based upon romantic and fairy tale notions as other species do. Love is a state of mind that is carefully developed. We make a decision with whom we will fall in love and then proceed in a logical, carefully reasoned fashion. Mates are selected through a con-scientious process of compatibility in thirty-seven different areas, ranging from social equatability to opinions on matters of deep philosophical meaning.

A relationship is built upon intellectual discourse, rational conversation, and lengthy interaction that elevates the spirit and leads toward a clearer and greater comprehension of the disciplines of logic and the many responsibilities inherent in being a Vulcan."

"At which point your biological drives kick in."

"It is not a perfect system. Nothing ever is." When Burgoyne laughed at that, she added, "I'm pleased to see that you are amused by all this."

"No. No, I'm not amused," Burgoyne said sadly.

"Soleta, what am I going to do? I went running back to McHenry because I was scared off about how I felt about Selar. Mark knows that's why I did it, I think.

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But he took me back anyway, and it all seemed a great game to me, but now I'm suddenly worried about hurting him. And I'm worried about hurting Selar, except I don't know that I have any basis or that I could hurt her, but it worries me. And I'm not used to worrying about hurting anyone. What do you think I should do?"

"Be prepared to hurt someone," she replied without hesitation.

"Thanks," said Burgoyne a bit sourly.

"I apologize, Burgoyne. This area is really not my specialty. Although, if this day keeps up as it is, I may wind up changing my discipline from science to interspecies romance. There's been a good deal writ-ten about that over the years. Quite a few in-depth studies done."

"Really?" This seemed to intrigue Burgoyne, and with hir pale blond eyebrows knit together in a puckish manner, s/he commented, "I'd love to read them."

"Somehow," Soleta told hir, "I just knew you would."

Si Cwan's quarters were becoming rather impressive. Soleta wasn't quite sure where he had managed to acquire the assorted thick cloths, trappings, and brocades that seemed evocative of his homeworld of Thallon, but she had to admit that it was looking more and more impressive.

At that moment, Si Cwan was studying the flame image on the disk while Robin Lefler watched him.

"Well?" Soleta asked after a moment, her arms folded.

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Peter David

"I . . . do not know anything . . . for certain," Si Cwan said after a time. "And all that I do know is a child's story."

"Pardon?" asked Soleta. She exchanged glances with Lefler, who shrugged.

"There was a book in Kallinda's library," he said.

"A book of tales of ancient Thallon. Originally handed down via oral tradition, spun by various storytellers throughout the centuries. There was one story I remember in particular: It was about a trickster god named Imtempho. He liked to do things to enrage and annoy the other gods, pulled all manner of tricks on them. The story went that the gods had created the Thallonians to be their playthings, their objects of amusement. But Imtempho, although he was merely a trickster, truly hated the gods and wanted to see them all done away with. But he was unable to lift a hand against them himself. So he stole something from the gods that was the property of them and them alone, and that was fire. He brought fire down to the Thallonians, and the Thallonians began using it to accomplish all manner of wonderful things. This angered the gods, who demanded that the Thallonians return the fire to them. The Thallonians retaliated by setting fire to the Great Hall that the gods lived within, and all the gods were burned up. In that way, the Thallonian people left behind their ancient beliefs and moved forward toward a time of reasoning and self-reliance."

"That's a very charming story," Soleta commented.

"Is it remotely relevant?"

"It might be in one respect." He held the disk up.

"The book carried with it illustrations that were reproductions of the tale done in ancient times. And I
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could swear that Imtempho was always pictured wearing an emblem quite similar to this around his neck, like a medallion."

"I see," Soleta said slowly. She considered it a moment, and then said, "Very well, Ambassador.

Thank you for your time."

"My pleasure. I wish I could be of more help to you than simply recounting an old children's story."

She nodded thoughtfully and headed out the door.

It took her a moment to realize that Robin Lefler had fallen into step beside her and was accompanying her down the corridor. She looked questioningly at Lefler, who said, almost defensively, "I'm heading back to Ops."

"Of course you are," said Soleta reasonably.

They stepped into the turbolift, the door hissing shut behind them. "Bridge," Soleta said.

"Soleta . . ." Robin said after a moment.

"Yes?"

"May I ask your opinion about a personal matter?"

Soleta stared at her.

"Computer, stop lift," Soleta said immediately.

The car promptly halted and she turned to face a puzzled Lefler. "Love?"

"What?"

"Is this about love?"

"Well, yes."

"Mm-hmm. Let me guess: Si Cwan."

Lefler blinked in surprise. "How did you know?"

"Process of elimination. Marry him."

"Soleta!" Robin laughed in a very uncomfortable manner. "It's a little more complicated than that."

"No, it's not."

"But I don't think he even knows I'm alive!"

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Peter David

"Lieutenant, if you marry him and he still doesn't know you're alive, then you have bigger problems than I could possibly solve."

"Soleta, for God's sake! I thought you'd understand! I mean, you
were
responsible for getting Si Cwan on the ship in the first place, and you met him years ago when he spared your life, and you saved my life on Thallon, so I just felt as if you'd be a good person to talk to about this because I feel you have a, you know . . ."

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