"I believe I am ill. Mentally ill. And I require your services to ascertain that very thing."
Dr. Selar and Lieutenant Soleta were in Selar's personal quarters. Soleta had reported to sickbay as Selar had requested, but as soon as she was there the Vulcan doctor immediately decided that her officer didn't provide sufficient seclusion, and so she had requested that they relocate the meeting.
Soleta was impressed at how utterly stark Selar's quarters were. It was as if she didn't really live there; as if her entire life were life station, and her quarters were simply where she retired to in order to attend to the minimal requirements necessary to her perpetuation. There was her computer (standard issue), her bed (standard issue).....
.....and a single light.
The fact that there was nothing else in the room to draw her attention naturally prompted Soleta to focus on it. It was tall, about a foot high, and cylindrical, and shimmered with a blue radiance. She found something unuterrably sad about it, and she couldn't quite figure out why. Why would a light have a sadness about it?
Selar saw what had drawn her attention. She didn't smile, of course, or frown, or in any way evince any emotion. "You have not seen a Shantazar? A Memory Lamp?"
"No, I----I have not," Soleta said. "A tribute of sorts?"
"Of sorts, yes. To someone---long gone." Briskly, she turned to Soleta and said, "I am in a----somewhat tough position. I must ask your indulgence, not only as a crewbeing, but as a fellow Vulcan----indeed, the only other Vulcan on this vessel. I ask....." She cleared her throat. "I formally ask you to grant me Succor."
Soleta was not quite as skilled as Selar when it came to covering her surprise. "A formal request? You could not simply ask for my help, and assume that I would give it?"
She looked downward. It was surprising to Soleta that Selar was having trouble meeting her direct gaze. "We speak of delicate matters and uncertainties. I do not wish to improve on friendship."
"Are we friends?"
"Not to my knowledge," said Selar. "That is the point."
"I cannot say I understand, for that would be lying."
Selar looked around her cabin, looked anywhere except at Soleta. "I do not----interact well with others," she said after a time.
"A curious admission for a doctor to make," Soleta couldn't help but observe.
Another might've taken that as a criticism, but Selar merely nodded in acknowledgment. "As a doctor, I do not see myself interacting with individuals, but rather with their ailments. It is no more necessary to make an emotional investment in patients than it is for an engineer to bond with a power coupling. If it breaks, it is my job, my vocation, to repair it. That is all."
"But engineers do bond, do they not?" asked Selar. "Humans in particular. They tend to invest inanimate objects wit a sense of life. They even ascribe genders to their vessels, calling them 'she.'"
"Granted. It gives them....comfort, I would imagine. Humans are frequently in need of comfort." She looked imperiously at Soleta. "Vulcans are not. That is one of the elements which has been our greatest strength."
And with a sigh, Soleta replied, "Or weakness."
Selar seemed inclined to reply to that, but clearly she changed her mind. "We have strayed from the subject," she said, and once more seemed intensely interested in looking anywhere but at Soleta. "I have formally requested Succor. Do you understand the parameters of such a petition?"
"I believe so," Soleta said slowly. "You are asking that I oblige myself to help you with some matter without knowing the nature of it, or what that obligation binds me to. It gives me no option to state that the request is beyond my ability to help you. Gives me no opportunity simply to refuse, for whatever reason. It is generally an application made by a fairly wretched and frightened individual who feels that she has no one on whom she can count."
"I would dispute the accuracy of the last statement."
"Would you?" asked Soleta with such sudden intensity that it virtually forced Selar to look directly at her. "Would you really?"
"I....." Her Vulcan discipline was most impressive. Her chin ever-so-slightly outthrust, she said, "Since I am presently in the process of asking you for Succor, it would not be appropriate for me to engage in a dispute over your opinions. Believe what you wish. But I would appreciate an answer to the question."
"The answer is no."
Soleta turned on her heel and headed for the door. She was almost there when Selar halted her with a word....
"Please."
There was no more emotion, no more inflection in the one word than there had been in any of the words preceding it. And yet Soleta was sure that she could hear the desperation in Selar's voice. She turned back to the doctor and said flatly, the words in something of a rush. "I hereby, of my own free will, grant you Succor. In what way may I be of service?"
Selar took a step forward and said, "Mind-meld with me."
"What?"
"I am concerned over my frame of mind. My concern is that my mental facilities are starting to erode. I have been experiencing----feelings. Sensations. Confusions which can only be deemed inappropriate in light of my training and experience."
Slowly, Soleta sank into a chair, not taking her eyes off Selar. "You want me to mind-meld with you."
Selar paced the room, speaking in a clinically detached manner that made her feel far more comfortable than acknowledging the emotional turmoil she was straining to keep at bay. "I believe that I may be suffering the earliest stages of Strilvinn Syndrome, causing the deterioration of my self-control."
"If that is what you believe, then surely there will have to be medical tests...."
But Selar shook her head. "Strilvinn Syndrome, at this point, would not be detectable through standard medical technologies. There are physical symptoms, yes, changes in certain waves patterns. But these are ascribable to a variety of possible ailments. It could also be Jibb's Disease, or Xenomitosis----it could even be Farr'Pon, although that is an impossibility."
"Impossible? Why? Timing is wrong?"
Selar suddenly felt very uncomfortable. "Yes."
"When was the last....?"599Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPyZZraa9V6
"It cannot be, believe me," Selar told her in no uncertain terms. Clearly considering the subject closed, she continued briskly. "In this situation, diagnosis via mind-meld would be the accepted and appropriate procedure to follow on Vulcan. There are doctors, psi-meds, who specialize in the technique."
"But we're not on Vulcan and I'm not a doctor," Soleta reminded her. "This is not a situation with which I am comfortable."
"I fully understand that. However, it would not be required that you have any medical training. During the mind-meld, I will be able to use your 'outside' perspective as if it were a diagnostic tool. Were I not a doctor myself, and were I not thoroughly trained in such procedures, it would be impossible. As it stands, it is more cumbersome and inefficient than simply to have a psi-med conduct the process. But I am willing to make do."
A long moment went by, during which Soleta said nothing. Selar was no fool; Soleta's hesitation was evident. But she was not about to back off. "You have granted me Succor," she reminded her, as if the reminded was necessary. "You cannot refuse."
"True. However," and Soleta stood, squaring her shoulders. She seemed even more uncomfortable now than Selar had moments before, and she did not have the self-discipline or control to cover it as skillfully as Dr. Selar. "-----however, I'm within my rights to request that you release me from my promise. I do so now."
"I will not."
"You would force me to mind-meld with you?" Soleta made absolutely no effort to hide her surprise. "That is contrary to...." She couldn't even begin to articulate it. Mind-meld was a personal, private matter. To force someone to perform it upon you, or thrust your own mind into another----it was virtually unthinkable.
"Lieutenant, I understand your hesitation," Selar began.
"No, I do not think you do."
"We barely know one another, and you feel pressured," Selar began. "Such a mind-meld will require you to probe more deeply than one normally would. The sort of meld that is either performed between intimates, or by extremely well-trained psi-meds who are capable of such private intrusions while still shielding the...."
But Soleta waved her off impatiently. "It's not about that. Not about that at all."
At this, Selar was a bit surprised. "Well, then....Maybe you wish to explain it to me."
"I do not. Now release me from my promise."
"No."
The two women stared at each other, each unyielding in their resolve. It was Soleta who broke first. She looked away from Selar, and in a voice so soft that even Selar almost missed it, she murmured, "It is for your own good."
"My own good? Lieutenant, I need your help. That is where my 'own good' lies."
"You do not want my help."
"I believe I know what I want and....."
"You do not want my help!"
The outburst was so unexpected, so uncharacteristic, so un-Vulcan, that---had Selar been human----she would have gasped in undisguised astonishment. As it was she could barely contain her incredulity. Soleta looked as if someone had ripped out a chunk of her soul. She was fighting to regain her composure and was only partly successful. Selar, in all her years, had never encountered a Vulcan whose emotionality was so close to the surface. All she knew was that she was beginning to feel less like a supplicant and more like a tormentor.
"I release you," she said slowly.
Soleta let out an unsteady sigh of relief. "Thank you," she said.
Clearly, now, she wanted to leave. She wanted to put as much distance between herself and Selar as she possibly could. But the reasons for her outburst, and Selar's open curiosity, were impossible to ignore. She could not pretend that it had not happened, and---despite the size of the Universe---it was, in the grand scheme of things, a small place to live when there was someone whose presence was going to make you uncomfortable. Particularly when it was someone such as the ship's CMO; not quite the kind of person one could hope never to have any interaction with..
Soleta leaned against the wall, her palms flat against it, as if needed the support of it. She weighed all the possibilities, and came to what she realized was the only logical decision. Still, she had to defend herself. "If I tell you something relating to my medical history----will you treat it under the realm of doctor/patient confidentiality?"
"That depends. Does it pose a threat to the health or safety of the crew of the Universe?"
The edges of Soleta's mouth, ever so slightly, turned upward. "No. Not at all."
"Very well."
She took a deep breath. "I am----impure," she said. "You would not want me in your mind."
"How do you mean 'impure'? I do not understand."
"I am not---full Vulcan."
Selar blinked, the only outward indication of her surprise. "Your records do not indicate that." She paused, considered the information. "It is an unexpected revelation, but it is not cataclysmic. Your attitude, your demeanor, indicates you consider your background to be----shameful in some manner. Some of the greatest Vulcans in history do not have 'pure' parentage."
"I am aware of that. I am personally acquainted with the famed ambassador Balus Spock."
"Personally." Selar was impressed, and made no effort to keep it out of her voice. "May I inquire as to the circumstances?"
"We were in prison together."
Selar found this curious, to say the least, but she decided that it was probably preferable not to investigate the background of that statement. Clearly there were greater problems to be dealt with. Selar was all too aware that beside manner was not her strong suit. And her experiences since the death of her mate, Chudor Voltak, had done nothing to soften her disposition. She knew that she had become even more distant and remote than her training would require, but she had not cared overmuch. Truthfully, since Chudor had died those two long years ago, she had not cared about anything. Nonetheless, it was clear that Selar had to put aside her own concerns and deal with those of Soleta.
She placed a hand on Soleta's shoulder. Soleta looked at it as if it were an alien artifact. "Neck pinch?" she asked.
"I am endeavoring to be of comfort," Selar said formally.
"Nice try." The words had a tint of humor to them, but Soleta did not say them in an amused manner.
Slowly Selar removed her hand from Soleta's shoulder. Then she straightened her uniform jacket and said, "I do not recall your service record indicating any mixed breeding. Although I will respect the bond of doctor/patient confidentiality, falsifying your record is frowned upon. In some instances, it could even result in court-martial in the unlikely event your parentage included a hostile race such as ....."
Her voice trailed off as she saw Soleta's expression, anticipating the word. Selar barely dared speak it. "Sebacean?" she whispered.
Soleta nodded.
"You----liked about one of your parents being Sebacean?"
But at that Soleta shook her head. Slowly she sank back down into the couch.
"My mother was Vulcan," she said softly. "I thought my father was as well. They were colonists----scientific researchers. Several times, in the throes of Farr'Pon, they endeavored to conceive a child, but each time the pregnancy had resulted in miscarriage. It was a tragic circumstance for them, but they dealt with it with typical Vulcan stoicism. Besides, they had their work to keep them occupied.
"And then there was a day when my mother was on a solo exploration, my father occupied with something else. To her surprise, she came upon a downed ship, a small, one-man vessel. Deciding that there might be someone in need of rescue, she investigated. She found someone. He was a Sebacean, injured from the crash. He said he was a deserter."
"A deserter?"
"So he claimed. He begged my mother not to inform anyone of his presence. His concern was that the Space Federation would turn him back over to the Sebacean government----or else put him in prison. She informed him that she could not make that promise. It would have been logical for her to lie, but my mother could not bring herself to do so. He was very angry with her, tried to stop her. She fought him and then she....." Soleta lowered her voice. "She learned the true nature of his background. He was not a deserter. He was an escaped criminal. A violent, amoral individual, and he...."
Her voice trailed off. But there was no need to complete the sentence.
Selar said nothing. She didn't trust herself to be able to speak without emotion.
"When my mother returned home, she was already pregnant," said Soleta. "She contemplated having an abortion---and rejected it. It was not a logical decision."
"Not logical." Selar, who prized logic no less than any Vulcan, couldn't quite believe what she'd heard. "Had she aborted the pregnancy, you would not be here."
"True enough. But considering the circumstances of my conception.....the nature of my sire.....making sure that I was not born would have been the logical choice. But my mother---and the man I thought of as my father----they felt it---illogical---to dismiss my existence just because of who my true father was. They were willing to take the chance that I would not be some kind of violent criminal. That their care, their training, their guidance, would be more than enough to overcome whatever unfortunate tendencies my genetic makeup might carry with it. It was a foolish gamble, but one they were willing to make. Perhaps they were not thinking clearly because of their frustrated encounters with Farr'Pon. Or maybe they were too....disoriented....by the recent events to come to a more sensible decision. Whatever the reason, they chose to let the pregnancy proceed. This time, she did not miscarry. There is a great irony in that, I suppose."
"And you did not know the nature of your true origins?"
"No. No, I was raised in the belief that I was a full Vulcan. Neither my father nor my mother told me the truth. They saw no point in it. They felt it was information that I did not need to possess. I was, after all, my mother's daughter, and my father cold not have been more devoted to me had he been my biological parent. So you see, Doctor, there was no attempt at deception on my part. When I enrolled in Fleet Academy, the information I provided Fleet was correct and true, to the best of my knowledge. You should have seen me back then, Doctor. I was as pure Vulcan as anyone could ask. Cool. Unflappable. My training was thorough, my mind-set absolutely ideal. I spoke in the formal English dialect favored by our people. You would never have known who my true father was. How could you? I never knew."
"What happened to him? After he---after the incident with your mother, was he caught? Returned to the Sebaceans?"
It took an effort for Soleta to get the words out. "When my mother first returned to the colony city---after her violent encounter----my father sought out the Sebacean that had abused her. But he had disappeared----repaired his ship sufficiently to escape. He eluded capture."
"Was he ever found?"
"Oh---he was found---" And Soleta laughed. It was a most unusual sound, and it startled Selar profoundly. She had never heard a Vulcan laugh. "The fates, if such there be, do like their little jokes. He was caught many years after the 'incident,' as you call it. He had built up quite a reputation for himself; had a very impressive smuggling operation set up. A Fleet vessel, the Arthas, put an end to his illegal activities. And there was a junior-grade science officer aboard the vessel by the name of Seleya Soleta. She had heard about Sebaceans, you see, but had never had the chance to see one up close. She considered them to be of scientific interest, what with their being an offshoot of the Vulcan race. Her scientific curiosity drove her to walk past the brig, to observe him, to approach him and begin to ask him questions.
"And he noticed something. Something she had in her hair. A family heirloom which her mother had always worn, but had passed on to her daughter when Soleta went off to the Academy."
Selar realized immediately, saw it glinting in Soleta's hair. "The IDIC."
"Yes." Soleta tapped the IDIC pin she customarily wore in her hair. "Exactly. He was quite given to talking, the Sebacean. He was rather proud of his achievements, particularly the more debased ones. I think he was, in his way, as interested in me as I was in him. I believe that he desired to see whether he could 'shock' me somehow. He proceeded to tell me the exact circumstances in which he had previously seen such a pin. The Vulcan woman who had worn one, and how he had knocked it out of her hair when he had----taken her forcibly. He went into intimate detail of the event. To shock me, as I said. And he did, but not in the way he had thought. For he simply believed that the recitation of the events of his brutality---his painting a vivid picture of how he had abused a Vulcan woman----would be disconcerting to me. He would have failed, for my training was too thorough. But he spoke of the world upon which he had crashed, spoke of when it happened, and there was the connection with the pin...." Soleta took a deep, shaky breath. "He had no idea. No idea to whom he was speaking. He thought it was just an identical pin. A mere coincidence. And that's all it should have been, truly. I mean, the truth ---the truth was too insane to contemplate, wasn't it. Father, all unknowing, telling his daughter the details of the rape that had led her conception? It was...."
Her shoulders started to tremble, and her discipline began to crack. A single tear rolled down her cheek. Selar went to her then, tried to put a hand out, but Soleta shoved it away. Realizing the violence inherent in her move, she quickly wiped her face with the back of her hand as she said urgently, "I'm sorry, I...."
But Selar waved dismissively. "No apology necessary. Considering the circumstances...."
"After my encounter with my....with the Sebacean....I informed Fleet that there was an emergency of a personal nature that needed my immediate attention. I had to talk to my parents in person. This was not something that could be dealt with over subspace. I returned home, returned to Vulcan, which was where my parents had relocated to in the interim. I confronted them and they----admitted to the true nature of my parentage. They even pointed out that they had never lied to me----and they had not, you know. What child, living in a normal environment, thinks to ask her father whether he is truly her father? No lie was required, for the question had never been posed. They told me that it should make no difference. That it did not diminish me, or make me less of a person than I was." Slowly she shook her head. "No difference," she repeated in clear disbelief, and then she said it again, her voice barely above a whisper. "No difference."
Selar waited. When Soleta said nothing after a time, Selar asked gently, "Did you return to Fleet?"
"Not immediately. I could not. I felt.....unworthy. Despite my parents' urging, I felt I was less than the woman I was. It affected the way I conducted myself, deported myself. The way I dressed, the way I spoke---even to this day. Habits that I'd learned, training I had had....it all seemed a sham to me, somehow. Things learned by another person who was not me, but had only pretended to be me. I extended my leave of absence, and I roamed. Roamed for so long that eventually Fleet got word to me that if I did not return, I would simply be dropped from the service. They put me in a position where I was forced to decide what to do with my life."
"Obviously you decided to return to Fleet."
"Obviously, yes, considering that I am sitting here in a uniform. But it was not, to me, an obvious decision to make."
"What prompted you to make it, then?"
"It was my mother's dying wish."
Selar lowered her eyes. "I am----sorry---for your loss. She must have been quite young."
"All too young. Vulcans have a long life span under ideal circumstances, but that is no guarantee."
"I know that, I assure you," Selar said. Had Soleta been less self-involved, she would have detected the slight ruefulness in Selar's tone, but she did not.
Instead Soleta found herself staring at the Memory lamp which Selar had burning in her cabin. "I asked to be assigned as a teacher upon my return, and considering my lengthy departure, Fleet saw no reason to deny my request. I was more comfortable with that situation than with the thought of continuing to wander the galaxy. However, circumstances arose so that my presence was needed here."
"And you never told Fleet about what you had learned, about your true parentage."
"I did not. Technically, it is withholding information. I imagine that they could make matters difficult for me, were they to learn of it. But---in the grand tradition of my family----they did not ask, and so I have had no need to lie. Convenient, is it not?"
"Very."
Soleta said nothing for a time, seeming to consider something. Finally Selar told her, "For what it is worth, Soleta---I do not consider you 'impure,' as the humans might say. A tortured soul, yes. But impure? No. I consider you a person of conscience and integrity. No matter what happens in the future of this vessel, I will always consider it an honor to serve with you."
"Thank you. I appreciate that. Truly, I do. And in your saying that, you've enabled me to make up my mind about something." She clapped her hands briskly and said, "Clear your mind."
"What?"
Soleta waggled her fingers and indicated that Selar should bring herself closer. "If you still desire that I probe your mind---that I meld with you....I will do so. After your sitting her patiently and listening to my life's story...."
"I do not wish your help out of some misplaced sense of gratitude," Selar told her.
Soleta looked at her skeptically. "Pardon me, but as I recall, a short time ago you were endeavoring to force me into aiding you through a binding blind promise, am I correct? And now you are worried about the ethics involved in my helping you?"
"Matters are different now. You were," and clearly she hated to admit it, "you were correct before. I was---'desperate,' if we must discuss the situation in human terms. I did not wish to depend on such relationships as friendship in order to accomplish what I felt needed to be done. But now that you have unburdened yourself....."
"You feel closer to me?"
"Not particularly, no. I just feel that you have more problems than I do, and it is probably unjust to burden you with mine."
This once more prompted Soleta, in a most shocking manner, to laugh out loud. It was not something she had great experience in doing. It was a quick, awkward sound, closer to a seal bark than an actual laugh. "Your consideration is duly noted," she told her. "But I tell you honestly now, Doctor, that if you are comfortable with the situation---knowing about me what you now know---then I will assist you in your self-examination. If I say to you that is the least I can do, I ask that you accept that in the spirit in which it's given."
Selar nodded briefly. "As you wish."
She drew a chair over to the couch and sat down, facing Soleta. She cleared her thoughts, her breathing slow and steady, relaxing into the state of mind that would most facilitate the meld. Soleta did likewise, almost with a sense of relief.
Soleta didn't have a tremendous amount of experience in the technique of the mind-meld, but she was sure that Selar's experience and superior training would more than make up for whatever Soleta might herself lack. Slow, methodical, unhurried, she waited until she sensed that her breathing was in complete rhythm with Selar's. Then, gently, she reached out, touching her fingers to Selar's temples.
"Our minds are merging, Selar," she said.
Their minds, their thoughts, their personas drew closer and closer to each other. The tendrils of their consciousness reached toward each other, gently probing at first....
....and then....contact was made....
.....drawing closer still, and their thoughts began to overlap, and it was becoming hard to determine where one left off and the other began....
....and Soleta had a sense of herself, she did not lose it, it was still there, still vibrant and alive, but she had a sense of Selar, and Selar saw herself through the view of Soleta, outside her own consciousness, looking inward....
.....Selar felt unsure and fearful, and she wasn't sure whether the insecurities rose from herself as Soleta and the knowledge of her true heritage or from herself and her concerns over her own state of mind, and she fought past it....
.....and Soleta saw images flashing past her, images that were herself but not herself, images and sensations and experiences that were as real for her as they could possibly be, except none of them, absolutely none of them, had ever happened to her---and she began to scrutinize herself with an expertise that she had never before possessed, except it was not herself that she was scrutinizing, and yet it was, and it was with a facility that she had never had, except she did....
.....and Selar felt herself slipping deeply into her own consciousness, gliding into Soleta's mind and using it as an ancient deep-sea explorer would use a bathyscaphe. Wavese of her own thoughts and unconsciousness rippled around her as she descended further and further, moving through her psyche, and she felt waves of light pulsing all around her. No, not light---life, her life, spread all around her...
And Soleta felt pain, waves of pain, and she heard voices crying out, and one of them was her own, her very own voice, and one of them wasn't; it was a male. It was someone she had never met in her life, and his name was Chudor Voltak, and she knew him with greater intimacy than she had ever known herself, and she could feel him moving within her....
.....and Selar felt him slipping away, and Soleta called out his name, and Selar felt his loss ripping at her, and then Soleta was suddenly yanked downward, further downward, left looking upward at Voltak in the way that a swimmer trapped beneath a frozen lake sees the face of someone above, on the ice, staring down at them...
....and Selar's mind was left naked and exposed, Soleta probing with Selar's expertise, burrowing down to the core of her psychic makeup, seeking, searching, and buffeted with wave upon wave of heat, red heat that washed over her in delicious waves of agony that she could not ignore, that swept into every pore of her skin, enveloping her, caressing her, and she moaned for the exquisite torment of it all...
....and she felt something calling her, driving her, and it was voices, not just hers, not just Soleta's and Selar's, not just Voltak's, but Vulcans, hundreds, thousands, millions of them, driving her toward the heat, toward the red waves, as if they were trying to pound her into an inferno shore, and she welcomed it, she welcomed the heat and the waves, she could not, would not turn away from it, she embraced it, wanted it, wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything, and her breath was coming in short gasps, their minds slamming together....
My God...
The separation was violent. Soleta yanked away from her, and Selar tumbled backward, the chair overturning and spilling her onto her back. Soleta fell over, rolled off the couch and onto the floor. She lay there panting, gasping, her fingers still spasming as sensations shook her body. Sweat was dripping off her forehead, spattering on the floor. With supreme effort she managed to look over at Selar, who didn't seem to be in much better shape. Selar was lying on her back, her arms outstretched, sucking in air gratefully, as if she'd forgotten to breath for however long they'd been joined. It clearly took tremendous effort but slowly Selar turned her head and managed to look at Soleta. Soleta, for her part, felt embarrassed, like a voyeur, even though it had been Selar who had asked for the probe.
Selar was trying to mouth a word. Soleta propped herself up on one elbow and angled herself closer to Selar, just close enough to hear her say it:
"Impossible" was the low whisper. Selar had now actually managed to muster enough strength to shake her head, and again she murmured, "Impossible."
"Apparently---not." Soleta was surprised, even impressed, with the calm in her voice. Ever since learning the truth of her background, stoicism had not been something that she had always been able to maintain. Her, though, she was clearly capable of rising to the occasion. "Apparently it's not impossible at all."
"But it was----it was barely two years ago....I----I went through it----not time---not for years, it is not time..."
"Perhaps it's because of the way that it ended the first time," Soleta said reasonably. "The urge was never truly satisfied, but because you were mind-melded at the time---it sent you into a kind of psychic shock....numbed you....but it's finally worn off...."
"You---you do not know---what you are saying...." Selar's face had gone ghostly white.
"Maybe not," agreed Soleta. "Maybe I don't know what I'm saying at all. Maybe I'm completely crazy---except I know what I saw, Selar. I know what I felt and experienced. Whether you like it or not---what you're going through right now is the first stages of Farr'Pon. Your bad experience the first time threw your system off, but now the mating frenzy is back with a vengeance. And I have absolutely no idea what you're going to do about it."
And Selar had the sick feeling that, somewhere in the ship, Wren was sniffing the air and grinning. And she wasn't far wrong.
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