The officers present stood and picked up their various padds shuffling off to their duty stations, the meeting adjourned. Security Chief Jesse Sanchez was the exception. He remained in his seat arranging the padds before him his thoughts organizing themselves as he looked at the data displayed. He finally pushed a padd aside on the slick surface of the conference table top. His eyes raised from the data to watch the Vulcan Science officer leave the room and the door swish softly behind her. Jesse let out a puff of a sigh and tossed the stylus in his hand onto the pile of padds. He looked at the door again.

Counselor Antos Bek watched the actions of the Security chief with keen interest.

Jesse took a deep breath and stood to his bulky six foot-five inch frame and snatched up the padds into a rough pile in his big hands. He suddenly paused in his compulsive action and looked at Bek.

Bek sensed that there was something on the Chief's mind, festering just below the surface.

Jesse flopped into his seat suddenly a limp figure. He picked up the stylus and fiddled with it. His eyes were busy and a slight frown creased his brow.

"Is there a problem, Commander?" Bek asked politely.

"Problem?" Jesse mulled with a shrug. He suddenly shook his head, "I wish I just knew which way the wind blew."

"Wind?" Bek wondered.

"A metaphor that my brother always used. I feel like I'm caught in a typhoon," he sighed pressing his thumb to the bridge of his nose.

"Things have been disquieting, with the increase of Khynah activity. I sense apprehension from a lot of the crew."

"Sure they know what is happening, and they wonder if it's their butt next, " He sighed and rubbed his eyebrow, "I shouldn't have put it that way."

"Its accurate," Bek replied. "There are many hopes riding on the success of this negotiator that is going to meet the Khynah delegation."

"The crew is edgy."

"Yes, understandably." Bek looked at Sanchez who glanced up and then away to stare at the wall. "That's not what's troubling you though."

"No," Jesse sighed, "Hardly. I don't know I suppose I shouldn't let the personal crap get under my skin. Reports of this phantom resistance fraction have me troubled. It seems as if they are trying to push Starfleet's hand, instead of letting us do our job. I don't know the information is so sketchy it's hard to tell."

"With war there are always those that empathize with one side or another, governments that refuse to take a stand or, conversely, that take such a hard stand there is no solution."

"History plays that out, yes." Jesse nodded his head. "I guess it's the not knowing that bothers me."

"Some has specifically to do with Comdr. MacLaughlin?"

Jesse rolled his eyes and grunted in reply, "I mean I know that this violates patient/counselor protocol and confidentiality, but I just would like to know where I stood with her. It...hurts...not knowing or understanding."

"Maybe you should take the time to discuss this over dinner, I think you owe it to each other to give communication a chance."

Jesse tapped the stylus softly and nodded slowly.

"You still love her don't you?"

Jess nodded again remaining silent.

"Love is a powerful emotion."

"Yeah," Jesse agreed in a slow manner. "It just hurts to see that she's, like, lost all sense of whimsy. Its like she's lost all sense of fun, she's become so distant and disconnected. There's no passion and when there is it's angry and almost hurtful."

"She is still finding herself. I know that's a Pollyanna expression, but she is still growing discovering what she's become. She isn't the same woman she was. That was poorly put, but you see my point. How do you feel about her?"

"I'm still confused."

"Can you summarize your feelings? Are you still attracted to her?"

"Not in the same way, it's different. In some ways she's more attractive. I'm sometimes..what? in awe of her. I can't put the feelings into words."

"You're doing fine," Bek said with a note of encouragement.

"Then there are times I'm angry that this thing ever happened, I wish that the whole thing on the Glenn could just vanish. I wish I had her back in her human body. I still have trouble with this," he waved his hand a few times. "Personality transfer thing. I just don't get it. I keep thinking this is a great hoax. Then Lal for being Vulcan was a very...attractive person. I suppose if Cam had simply (HA!) lost her face and cosmetic surgery in some bazaar accident, her features altered, I could accept that more easily. I mean she's a different person. Then she isn't. See why I'm confused?"

"Acceptance of what has happened is not going to happen overnight, it is a slow process."

****

She looked at Jesse in the half light of his closet. He stood just inside the door, carefully loading the old weapon with methodical practice. He had taken one of his replicated museum pieces out and was now loading it. She looked at the ugly black thing in his hand and for a moment wondered how the human race ever got beyond those things.

"That should blow a hole in any Khynah armor with rather positive results," she remarked.

He walked into the main room and set the pistol on his desk glancing at her. "This is eerie," he said in an off hand manner.

"How so?" She wondered getting to her feet and walking over to his shadowy form near the desk. He was taking a cigar out and sticking it in one of the slim pockets on the arm of his uniform.

"Déjà vu, it's the station all over again."

"It seems that history is repeating itself," she shrugged.

"Are we repeating a mistake?" he wondered staring at the wall.

"You mean, our little tiffs?"

"Tiffs? Little? Pha!" He snorted in irony, "I don't know who I fought harder, you or them! No its not us it's the whole situation. Damn I forgot that body armor."

"Body armor?" she wondered as he strode past her.

"An experiment," he sighed, "Starfleet R&D."

"It looks like a wetsuit." She said as he picked up the garment. "One of those old twentieth century Jacques Cousteau numbers."

"And fits like one too. Ha you should know with your dad being a scholar of the Twentieth Century! Here," he yanked off his jacket and turtleneck. His undershirt was tight across his chest. Cam sighed softly as he wiggled his arms into the top. She couldn't help but notice the way he smelled or move. Her emotions were in a tangle.

"This is not going to be comfortable," he muttered. "It's supposed to be puncture resistant and dissipate the energy from a weapons discharge. I have my doubts. I'm gonna sweat up a storm in this! Ill reek by the time this mission is over."

"Maybe, maybe not, but," she suddenly looked into his eyes. They locked for a moment as her hands tried to help ease the stretchy fabric over his well developed shoulders and arms. Every muscle felt like a knot. "I think the computer sized this for a Tellerite!"

She suddenly turned away fighting for breath. His closeness and her emotions getting the better of her.

"Hey babe, what is it?" he wondered. He caught her chin and lifted it.

"I cant-"

"Your crying, why?" his finger brushed at the tear.

"What did you expect? For me to feel nothing? To be stoic and say this was logical? What did you expect a VULCAN?" She snapped embarrassed.

"Shshshhhhh," he urged. "I just didn't know that this was bothering you so much."

"I don't want mistakes," she said pointedly.

"I know that," he sighed bending gently and brushing her lips with his.

Her head snapped back as if she had been zapped by an errant static charge. Her swept eyebrows furrowed and her eyes challenged him.

He let go his eyes not meeting hers, "I'm sorry- I'm just-sorry. I forgot" He looked at the floor and rubbed his fingers together. Feeling discouraged he picked up his uniform and slipped it over the slick suit.

"Bridge to Sanchez, report to shuttle bay 2."

"On my way, " he replied tensely. "DuBois the negotiator must have made contact with those Khynah" He looked at her for a moment. He looked away and went out the door not uttering a word.

"WAIT," she scrambled after him grabbing the Glock off the table with extra clips and ammunition. "Wait Jesse!"

He stopped at the lift door his eyes narrowed as she ran after him. "You forgot this," she shoved the gun into his hands. "If a phaser wont penetrate their armor then maybe good ole jacketed lead will. Give them lead poisoning Jess. "He nodded and took the clips slipping them into the arm pockets.

"I gotta report-Forrester-"

"I know," she nodded. "Here I'll walk down with you."

They walked to the shuttle bay in silence. He paused before joining the others looking at her for a long moment. He touched her cheek for a fleeting second. He opened his mouth for a moment, and took a breath. He struggled, letting the breath out with a huff. "I'm sorry." He whispered and turned away. "I've never been good with words."

"Jess," she said softly her eyes meeting his, her hand brushing his arm, "Give them hell, Jess. The answer is simple." she watched him join Capt. Forrester and a group of assembled security guards. They were busy talking in low tones the captain listening carefully. She blinked for a moment wishing she was a part of the group and didn't have to stay, she longed to stay at his side, despite the terrible price. "The answer is simple," she whispered to herself. She took a deep breath, "The answer is yes."

She turned away and went back to the lift she realized she was crying again as the door swished open she stepped on and softly ordered bridge. She mopped her face with the back of he hand. She felt horrible, physically sick. She looked up at the ceiling trying to collect her thoughts.

"I do not mean to intrude upon your thoughts, commander, but apparently,"

She looked over at Sartek. Of all the people on the ship! The Vulcan researcher!

She cringed inwardly, acutely embarrassed. "But apparently I am having an emotional--oh never mind! Forgive the outburst. I did not mean to cause you discomfort."

He looked at her with a raised eyebrow, "I am not caused discomfort by the emotional display, Commander. Are you feeling discomfort?"

"As a matter of fact I feel positively wretched!" she snapped.

"Physical?" he wondered.

"Physical emotional whatever!"

"May I take a scan?"

"You're the medical researcher. Id like to know," she paused studying the other Vulcan. "I think it's all in my head but I'm never sure."

"I have noted that in humans many underlying physical problems are fall blame to 'being in the head', many problems manifest themselves in psychological manners. Headaches caused by hormonal imbalances are all 'in the head', blamed on stress. In your case, Commander I believe that your Vulcan physiology causes conflict with your human personality. I would find you an interesting case to study, shedding some light upon how psychology and physiology are linked."

"Lab rat. I'm a freaking living lab rat and this is my cage." She muttered crossly. " How ironic. Wont you just end up sending me to the priests to have my head straightened out? I am HUMAN! I have HUMAN feelings, HUMAN fallacies. I love a HUMAN for god sake!"

"You are a Human in a Vulcan body. Your psychology will adapt to your physiology."

"I am not going to Vulcan. I AM human" She replied stubbornly. "I should have Mira bob my ears and alter my eyebrows!"

"What good would that do? When you bleed you would still bleed green."

"At least people wouldn't be expecting me to be spewing logic and be unemotional!"

"Come to medical when you have free time. I would like to look at your scan, perhaps I can give you some answers you seek."

****

"So what's the verdict?" she wondered watching Sartek. She sincerely wondered how long she was going to be under his scrutiny. Well she had to know, she had to find out what she could. She was on a dinner break and while she should be on the bridge, she had her few minutes free. She was worried, concerned, distracted. She was also antsy to go back and find out if there was any progress with Jess's mission to lay the extra sensor buoys with the runabout. He was worried about encountering Khynah or Romulans, she hoped he wold get back unscathed. He was maintaining commchannel silence, hoping to maintain his stealth. Slip in, slip out.

"Verdict? I wasn't aware that we were passing any judgment."

"Am I crazy or what?" she wondered.

"Counselor Bek did not indicate that you were insane."

"Only mixed up."

"Yes, mixed up is a good term for your condition."

"My question is: How mixed up?" she shrugged, "How can I correlate what I feel to what is going on?"

He looked at her, "What do you feel is going on?"

"I get this funny feeling that I'm over sensitive, that I'm...well, whatever emotional control I may have had is just gone. When a human is stressed... I mean I've had relationships before and I know what that old chemistry does."

"Explain," Sartek frowned ever so slightly.

"Human attraction, " she shrugged. "I mean I've wanted to be with men before. I'm not...you know..."

"Are you concerned with PonFarr?" Sartek asked directly.

"Yes!" she blurted. "From what I've read this-"

"From what you've read, the insanity that you fear, the loss of emotional control, applies to the male."

"I thought it applied to the female as well."

"In very few cases. Female physiology is such that PonFarr is a mild experience, the loss of emotional control is minor, the drive to mate is heightened, but it does not become the all consuming passion that the male experiences. I believe that in your case It just won't be noticeable because you do not have the emotional control. You are not 'locked in' like a normal Vulcan."

"But my hormones?"

"You are normal, there is no rise in the hormone that would indicate PonFarr."

"Have I hit puberty? I mean, is my body fully adult?"

"Vulcan females do not have menses like humans."

"But maturity comes with PonFarr?"

"Triggered as a response to the male; to your bond partner."

"I have no bond partner. Lal had no bond partner. Her parents, " she sighed. "Oh how can those texts explain so much and leave such blanks!"

"It started with a desire in her parents to raise her outside the logic, and structure. For a girl that can be done, the male poises a different set of issues. He would get a bond partner, one of his choosing at PonFarr. But he would have PonFarr, or he would be dead. No parent would knowingly kill their child, not that way. Being female, you are receptive to the status of your male. Your body responds to his."

"I don't get it," she shrugged. "Are you saying that I'm, like, sensitive to every guy that's attracted to me?"

"Being bonded means that you are in touch with his thoughts, your thoughts are part of his, an element of his and his of yours. Betaziods have a word for a similar situation. Telepathic races usually have a concept like this. Humans do not. That may be point of misunderstanding." Sartek went over to a bench and put down his scanner. He looked at her, "Are you in love with Comdr. Sanchez?"

"I have feelings towards him," she said softly. "I have been his friend for several years."

"I am speculating but I believe that the Commander feels attraction for you."

"Uh, yeah."

"You may just be sensitive to him, not to another. Not every human feels that she must be with every male, only those that she feels attraction to. In the case of Vulcan, it is similar. The attraction is expressed in the bond. Vulcan females are always responsive to their mates. In a subtitle way you and the commander are bonded. But that is mere speculation."

"How could we be bonded if...I mean, I know nothing about melds and such."

"I wasn't thinking of the bond in the traditional sense. You had the bond of friendship. Love is a powerful emotion, one of the most destructive to the Vulcan way. If one surrenders to love, then the ideals of Surak are lost."

"But I am not a follower of Surak."

"In a manner of speaking we all are."

"You want me to go and purge myself of this don't you?"

"That is not logical for you yourself said, you are Human with human fallacies and frailties. Medically speaking there is nothing wrong with you. I believe you feel 'wretched' because of your emotions, you would feel that way if you were Human. It is in your head."

****

"Any sign of the runabout Commander?" Forrester wondered.

"Not yet sir," Cam answered smoothly. "I am picking up an increase in tachyons. There could be long range Romulan activity. The runabout will be hard to detect until she reaches the moon."

Forrester nodded and turned his attention back to the main view screen.

Cam adjusted her long range sensors with a practiced sweep of her finger.

She suddenly snatched her hand back as she had the unmistakable feeling that someone had walked on her grave. Her spine tingled and she felt the sudden sour tang of panic.

"Captain!" she blurted.

"Yes Commander?" he wondered turning to look at her. She was looking pale and he stepped to her station.

"Sir, this tachyon activity here," she pointed to one of her master layouts "I have a bad feeling about this. Something is going on. I think the runabout is in trouble. That disturbance is not too far from the runabouts destination."

"Is there anyway to prove that?" he wondered.

"Unless ops can bring up a computer link. We would have to break silence to find out for certain."

"We hold Commander," he glanced at her. "Maintain monitoring. Is there any word from that negotiator, DuBois?"

"None so far, " came the reply from communications, "Commander Sinclair has not reported in."

"She should report when Comdr. Sanchez joins her," Forrester reminded himself softly.

Cam glanced at him hearing the emotion in his mutterings. It was more then likely that no one else on the bridge would hear it, but her sensitive ears picked it up. She took a calming breath, or tried to.

****

Jesse landed the runabout near the small shuttle that DuBois was using and walked across the rocky expanse towards Rebecca Sinclair. She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. He gave her a quick tight nod. He took a breath and looked over at the balding negotiator. He was short but standing with the Khynah he looked insignificant.

"How's it goin'?" he whispered.

"Not well, communication problems with the universal translator." Sinclair whispered back.

"Communication problems? Have you told Forrester?!" He blurted trying to keep his voice low. He stared at the well armed Khynah and their delegation. There were a dozen of them. All armed. He glanced and measured the Federation delegation. It was inadequate at this point. He cursed the idea that a show of force might provoke them! It tied his hands! All this to meet with a splinter group of the Khynah: a group that actually wanted to negotiate!

"He's sending Commander McLaughlin down. She says she can understand them."

"Damn I wish she was here from the get go." He scratched his chin and relaxed his knee. "How did they take our showing up?"

"DuBois is a slick liar," Rebecca almost smiled.

Jess continued to watch but let a small smile tickle his features. A smile curled the edge of his strong mouth. It faded as he watched the warriors.

****

Yelling.

Blade flashing in the sun.

Blade meeting flesh.

Flash.

Hitting the ground, feeling every pebble.

Another flash.

Wrong, all wrong....

He closed his eyes slowly, swallowing trying to moisten his mouth. He dreamed, dreamed of a place and time where she was whole and she became one with him....

****

"Jesse?" she whispered. She touched his brow.

He opened his eyes and looked at the sunset-lit sky. He hurt more. His shoulders, he couldn't feel his feet.

"How long?" someone wondered.

"About twenty minutes, I've been trying to keep him stable and conscious. He's in shock, I don't think he's lost too much blood..."

He looked at Lal's disheveled hair. Her voice sounded different. Emotion was in her eyes, expressed on her face. The aura burned around her gently shifting color. He closed his eyes feeling the queasy tide of his stomach for the first time.

"Its good you didn't move the knife, lets see if we can stabilize this. The others are safe behind that ridge."

"The Alliance is still out of range," she sighed.

"Alliance?" Jesse wondered with a whisper, his eyes opened wider and his head jerked up.

"Relax Jess, she's been out of range for a while. Damn the Khynah, why did we get stuck playing guard puppy to a negotiating team? Thank God Rebecca was able to secure the area, double crossin'-"

"Reb--?" he wondered with a blink.

She caressed his cheek, "Relax babe and let the medic patch you up. I'm not going to leave."

"Lal," he whispered, he felt sleepy. He glanced up at her for a moment and watched the swirl of emotional energy surrounding her like a mist. He again closed his eyes against the swirl. "-Love ya."

He felt her breath pause and then release with a soft huff. She didn't reply, except to pat his cheek.

****

The conference room of the Alliance was filled with but four officers and one Federation representative: Rebecca Sinclair, DuBois the negotiator, Cam MacLaughlin Captain Forrester and Jesse Sanchez. All were seeking answers, all were working on a debriefing.

"NO. The negotiations broke down because of the implication that WE stole one of their ships." Cam said hotly glancing at Forrester. She banged her finger on the table, "They wouldn't say it to our faces, but I understood what they were whispering. I pretended to not hear them, but--"

"We don't know who stole that ship, IF one was stolen!" DuBois responded. His actions were guarded and he felt sour. "It's a case of hearsay. It could be an excuse or a ruse."

"We will find out," Rebecca Sinclair assured him. "Security is working on it. Intelligence--"

"But that brings us back to the negotiations," Forrester reminded everyone. The captain's dark blue eyes became darker. He was not happy about the whole situation.

"Who stole the ship?" Jesse wondered. He looked pale and tired. He had just been released from Medical and he looked worse for the wear. Cam glanced at him wishing he had just gone to bed instead of attending a meeting. Jesse rubbed the bridge of his nose and wondered, " Who would be crazy enough to steal a Khynah ship, have the smarts to pilot her, especially in a battle situation? Are these or aren't these attacks Khynah or not? It doesn't jive."

"That's not the point now Mr. Sanchez," Forrester reminded him in a terse voice.

"Well, we can't negotiate with them." DuBois shrugged feeling bitter.

"Not with them attacking us with little provocation!" Cam spat. She was very angry about the whole situation and her being unexpectedly used as a translator/advisor. She wasn't used to this sort of position. She was a Science officer, but since the FalTorPan, she had some unexpected, latent talents, namely linguistics, and she wasn't used to or comfortable with her abilities.

"Did you know what triggered the attack?" Forrester asked her in a softer tone.

"Well it wasn't a comment about someone's mother," She replied sarcastically. She sighed softly and re-thought her answer, "I don't think, looking at this from an anthropological point of view, that the Khynah know HOW to negotiate, it isn't in their language or culture, and to TALK things out is absolutely insulting to them. It's not the way disputes are settled, nor how social status is gained."

"We recognized this trend early on, but hoped that we could try sense." DuBois observed, "Headquarters thought that there might be an outside chance that diplomacy could work. After all we were able to negotiate with the Klingons, and they used to be viewed as undiplomatic. This group sent overtures, wanting to end the fighting. My guess is that too many are dying and these people wanted an end to the bloodshed."

"They have honor," Jesse remarked with a grunt, "the Klingons."

"So do the Khynah," Rebecca countered in her typical logical tones. "In their own way."

"The Khynah understand one thing, and one thing only," Jesse looked up his face hot with anger, "they live and die by the blade and conquest is omnipotent. Conquer or die. " He knew that she had been in battle with these beings, and might understand how single minded the typical Khynah warrior was, but it was a point he felt he needed to drive home. He doubted DuBois had ever picked up a weapon in his life. He just didn't know. His chest ached slightly from the encounter with the blade and he rubbed the spot trying to rid himself of the itch.

"They have the Master Race Syndrome. They believe to the core that they are the superior race and, they think we are ugly pale worms that dig in the ground. We are not as worthy an animal as their rats: the lousha" Cam said softly. "At least that's the opinion of the ones that attacked. They did not want any part of a peace negotiation"

"I will bring this news back to Command, and the Federation Counsel," DuBois stood his eyes lowered. "I am afraid that their answer is clear. Since this has failed, there is but one outcome: war. There can be no peace with all the disagreement. I will take my leave now and prepare my statement. I fear the outcome of theses findings."

"Gentleman, this doesn't leave this room, is that understood?" Forrester looked at each of his officers present with stern eyes. They nodded in acknowledgment. What was Marcus going to do at this point? Cam felt herself glance at Jesse who looked at his padd pursing his lips in a disgusted manner. No one, not one of them liked the thought and no one wanted to be the bearer of that piece of news.

"Romulans," he shrugged.

"What about them?" Rebecca wondered. "There's no implication that this is their doing."

"How do we know that it isn't? They have, on several occasion, been put in a position that opposes both the Federation and the Khynah. They could be playing one to get the other."

"I'm aware of what has happened," DuBois looked at him with an icy glance. "Headquarters does not see any Romulan involvement."

"They can't find their ass with both hands,"

"Mr. Sanchez!" Forrester barked uncharacteristically.

"Sir," Jesse looked up he paused and huffed hotly. Cam caught his eye for a moment. Jesse took a deep breath, and softened his tone, "Sir how are to know for certain? Intelligence on the Romulan has been scant at best."

"This is true," Rebecca nodded in agreement. "It's a matter of importance and we are working on way to improve intelligence collection. In the meantime we are collecting more data on the Khynah. I need to go write my own reports."

Cam watched the first officer leave with a shiver. The negotiator followed with his funny hurried steps.

"No one, Jesse, no one likes this situation," Forrester said in a deliberately gentle tone.

Jesse looked up, "I apologize for my outburst. I'm ...fed up with the talking. I think everyone is. It was pointless to even attempt negotiations, it was doomed from the get go. It was naive to assume that words would work with a race that doesn't talk."

"Even so, we had to make the attempt or the appearance of an attempt. Kosovo, Earth, late twentieth century. Serbs and ethnic Albanians, the subject of autonomy. How much fighting and how much negotiation went on there? How many times did it fail before peace was reached?"

"I believe that one of the leader had to be assassinated first before any peace accords went forward. He wasn't acting in the interest of the people," Jesse said slowly trying to recall his Earth military history. "What of the promise of no troops and then a ground war? How much talking?"

"Now, I ask you: are we acting in the interest of the people? What is going to happen to the people if we go to war? What is going to happen if we don't?" Forrester looked at his Security chief with a quizzical, philosophical glance. "Either way people are going to die, and either way we need to find a solution. Those decisions are not in our hands, not now."

"'Ours is not to do or die ours is not to question why.'" Cam said softly.

"That's Correct Mr. MacLaughlin, even if that was misquoted."

She blushed slightly and looked at the table.

****

She stared at the bar top for a long moment, she sat on the barstool and looked at the pale blue of Romulan Ale. She swirled it slowly in the snifter and set it down with a sigh.

"Something wrong Cam?" Jake wondered as he polished the glass in his hand.

"Not really, nothing seems right."

"The universe is like water, it ebbs and flows."

"Stellar dynamics doesn't tell me that."

"Take my word for it? It ebbs and flows. Tidal."

"Jake," she paused. "Can I ask you something since I cant seem to get a straight answer, and you seem to know human nature better then the counselors?"

Jake laughed and picked up another glass, "Alright shoot."

"On the planet, " she began choosing her words carefully, "Jesse did something odd. Something he's never done before. He said he loved me."

"He might," Jake shrugged, "that wouldn't be odd. Not for him."

She looked up at his bearded face, "Jake, he called me Lal."

"Oh bad. Called you by another name? Jesse?"

She nodded, "Now you know why I'm confused."

Jake sighed and put down his towel, "Jesse didn't know T'Lal before , did he?"

"I get the oddest feeling maybe he did? I'm not sure!" She sighed. "I thought they met on the Glenn."

"You were on the Glenn for what? Two weeks?"

"Ok, that's true."

"Hey IT can take two days even two hours. Love and the perceptions are timeless and without bounds. Twenty minutes can change a life."

"Thanks Jake nice to know that the fourth dimension isn't time, but love." She huffed and put her elbows on the bar leaning her chin on her fists. "Jake do you think Ill ever understand this? Do you think I'll ever feel normal, and know how to ..."

"What? Be Vulcan? You should have a long heart to heart talk with...oh, Ambassador Spock, about that matter. He was half human."

"No one knows where he is or if he's alive."

"Holodeck records," Jake suggested.

"Sounds like I need to do some research, but holodeck are not...you know...dynamic like a real person, even if they are done really well. Its still a simulation."

"I thought you could try it at least," Jake shrugged and picked up another glass and began polishing it. "Talk to that Medical researcher, Sartek."

"Mira suggested it."

"Two months ago!" Jake snorted. "Hey are you hungry? Want a plate of those wicked beans, and tortillas?"

"No, thanks though." She admitted, "I'm just not hungry tonight."

Jake disappeared into the storeroom and came back, "I miss Priscilla."

"I miss a lot of the Endeavour crew. I wish they had never gotten that ship. Damn Khynah." She sloshed her ale and drank it down. For the first time she felt a bit drunk.