She had been about to graciously accept Lamont's latest courteous comment with the same equanimity as the others, file it away as one more instance of a diplomat's ingrained ways becoming manifest. But then Sakarra hesitated. Said instances were increasing in both frequency and intensity, and although at the moment one could certainly ascribe this to understandable emotional distress …
She watched the ambassador carefully, unsure what signs to look for and finally decided this was pointless. He would not engage in courtship rituals, especially ones the Vulcan would have difficulty comprehending, knowing that … or did he? Yes, gossip was all over the ship and Lamont was usually very apt at hearing and picking the facts from the speculation.
Sakarra even suspected the good ambassador to be the source of some interesting rumors that had spread with too much efficiency to be accidental. But would he have heard, here, and if so, taken the time to … ponder?
Either way, there were more pressing concerns and the young Vulcan firmly pushed these thoughts away for later contemplation. And obviously, his train of thought had 'moved on' as well, because before Sakarra could speak again, Lamont's green eyes settled on her with a much different expression.
Ian put a hand to his head briefly rubbing the bridge of his nose. "You said something about telepathy if I recall. Given that you most likely have much more experience than I in such matters what do you make of this Sakarra? What happened? How is this possible? Forgive me but I find myself preoccupied with such questions. I am having some difficulty accepting the truth even though I recognize the facts."
"The facts, Mr Lamont, are simply that you succeeded in establishing a connection. How this is possible, I cannot say for certain." Sakarra exhaled softly, folding her hands in her lap. Still looking up at the fair haired human seated on the bunk, she decided it might help to engage in speculation after all, since his race often excelled at grasping seemingly incoherent threads to weave a surprisingly logical fabric. Though she was not sure what the often cited 'gut feelings' had to do with any of that.
"All I can tell you, is that there was something decidedly … familiar… about the experience. Were you not a human, I would classify it as an untrained Vulcan mind instinctively seeking to reach the other. It is a mostly subconscious drive that is as old as our race itself, compelling one to seek the union with kin and foe alike."
She was speaking of things outworlders were not usually informed of, matters that were too close to the Vulcan soul to be divulged to all but those whose lives were already invariably bound to one born to her race. But if her suspicions were correct, he had a right to know.
"It is how we know one another, Ian Lamont." She stated in the same level voice she would use to report on engine status. Only the change in her deep black eyes, no longer merely reflecting the serenity of a still ocean but giving subtle indications as to how deep those waters truly were, would have told an astute observer that she was not speaking lightly of this. "For better or worse, to borrow a human idiom, we are ever seeking to touch, to intertwine, to know the other. If there is any Vulcan in your heritage, it would be the last instinct to be preserved after all others are gone, and the first to surface when given the chance. An unshielded other in close proximity … it would be like oil to flame, to utilize another metaphor."
Lamont was at a loss for words. Gazing into Sakarra's dark eyes he sensed something. Again was this feeling. No not feeling…it was like a vague impression so subtle and so fragile if he moved an inch or simply inhaled he felt as if it would shatter and be lost. He couldn't describe the sensation but somehow he knew she was speaking of things not meant for a human's ear. Swallowing, Lamont took a breath realizing in fact that he had not done so in quite sometime.
This feeling…he was unable to dismiss it. Just like the subtle thread he had seen in the peace of his own thoughts he now felt a tiny, almost microscopic sensation somewhere in the deepest recesses of his psyche. It was like a tickle or itch begging for attention. He could not ignore it yet he was terrified to attempt to explore this new phenomenon. He felt like a youngster playing with fire or perhaps like an old Earth general contemplating the use of an atomic weapon. The consequences of indulging his curiosity seemed all too real given the events of the last hour. He had no desire to repeat what had occurred yet the more he fought to ignore the tiny spark within him the more it seemed to tickle his consciousness. Like the siren's song he was unsure if he could muster the willpower to ignore this unknown and alien sensation deep within.
"Should I be concerned", he asked nearly stammering unsure quite how to deal with the gravity of Sakarra's words combined with recent events and the tiny flame within.
"Could what happened to me, happen again", he asked unsure if he was making any sense. His mind was now racing with dozens of thoughts as it attempted to construct a logical explanation.
"I must seek your counsel yet again Sakarra", he stated running a hand through his hair whose long strands were falling into his face as he spoke. "You have been candid with me and again I request your candor on a deeply personal level." He knew by her own words to him earlier that she would not speak of this to anyone. He took some small comfort in the knowledge he could trust her.
"I…I feel as though I am holding a phaser surrounded by enemies and strongly compelled to utilize the weapon, but without any training on how to use it safely. Such a situation could be harmful to others as well as myself. I have nothing to rely upon to help me take any intelligent or logical next steps given this new…..reality. I…feel driven to investigate this sensation which is so subtle and delicate at times it feels as if it is simply a whisper on a strong wind. It comes and goes yet is tantalizing, compelling, and flirtatious like a passionate lover. Yet. Yet, it is also incredibly alien and foreign. Mysterious it is. Dark. Unknown.
It is a bedeviling temptress. I cannot ignore its whispering yet I fear I lack the courage to listen any closer given what has just recently occurred."
She was about to speak when a thought leapt into his head. Like lightening he had to follow the thought to its conclusion.
"Computer", he called out. "Access personal files of Ian Lamont. Family history and lineage. Scan all available files for Vulcan ancestry. Expand search to all shipboard databanks regarding Lamont family history."
"Unable to comply", came the cold, synthetic voice of the ship's computer system. "Computer access of this nature is not permitted to those currently incarcerated. Access denied."
"Damn it", Lamont shouted slamming a fist into his other hand. He quickly became aware of his outburst and flushed slightly realizing the display of strong emotion was most likely quite offensive to Sakarra.
"Forgive me commander", he quickly his tone growing more professional in response to his poor behavior in the presence of both a lady and a Vulcan. "There are many questions which demand answers and to be locked up in this prison for something petty and trivial is positively maddening given certain immediate realities."
He sighed and exhaled attempting to clear his mind and reign in the chain reaction of thoughts within him. He met with little success until Sakarra's soothing voice and her words gave him respite from his own thoughts. Her Vulcan felt as though it was becoming easier to translate in his mind yet oddly enough he suddenly realized he had himself been speaking it almost exclusively for the past few minutes. That revelation stunned the talkative ambassador into silence. He could do little else but listen as his mind throttled itself into overdrive with every available neuron firing in a feverous attempt to answer questions, recall facts, digest recent experience, and make some sense out of the tiny flame within and its potential current and future implications. Was this a gift, a curse, or something he couldn't even begin to comprehend or understand?
[To be continued …]
Ambassador Ian Lamont
And
Lt. Commander Sakarra Tyrax
