"Do you want to fight it, or do you want to give in to it?"
"Fight it," Selar said firmly. "I should be able to. I entered Pon farrtwo years ago. This is . . . this feeling I have now, I do not believe it to be genuine."
"Selar. . ."
"I know what you said to me. I know your assessment. But I do not think that what I am feeling is really Pon farr.Perhaps it is a . . . a delayed reaction to the death of Voltak. . . ."
"Delayed two years?" Soleta asked skeptically. "Soleta . . . I profess to be an expert in many things. But emotions are not among them."
"Well," Soleta said thoughtfully. "I suppose it's possible. You were somewhat traumatized when you lost your husband. Perhaps, deep down, you desired to have that sort of connection once more."
"I resolved to divest myself of it," Selar said firmly.
"That may very well be the problem."
Selar stared out at the plains of Vulcan. "Burgoyne says s/he feels a connection between us. Says I am interested in hir. Perhaps s/he is right. Or perhaps my thoughts dwell on hir because s/he is the first individual who has ever shown that sort of interest in me. I do not know anymore. I do not know anything about anything."
"Admitting one's ignorance is the first step toward gaining knowledge."
"Thank you, Soleta. That still does not tell me what to do."
"I can't tell you that. No one can, except yourself." Selar shook her head with as close an outward display of sadness as she ever came. "I have never felt any need to depend upon anyone except myself in my entire life. Perhaps . . . that has been part of the difficulty. I have been alone for much of my life . . . but until now, I have felt . . . lonely."
Far off in the distance, a flock of birds sailed through the sky on leathery wings. "I hope I have been of some help," said Soleta.
"Some. I still do not know precisely what action I will take. But at least I feel as if I am moving in some sort of a direction."
"That's all any of us can ask. I will be on the bridge if you need me."
Selar turned to her and said, "Thank you . . . my friend."
"You are most welcome."
Soleta turned and proceeded to climb down the mountain. Selar continued to look out over the Vulcan plains, but with half an ear she listened to Soleta's quiet litany of grunts, huffs, and muttered annoyance over the inconvenience of clambering up and down mountains. Within a few minutes, however, Soleta was gone, and Selar was struck by the fact that she missed her already.
She had so intensely desired to be alone, and yet she had to admit that she might have been craving a most unnatural state. Perhaps, even for Vulcans, loneliness was not a condition to which one should aspire. Perhaps there was more to life than isolating oneself, both intellectually and physically.
She found herself wishing that Vulcans truly were as many outsiders perceived them to be: emotionless. To have no emotions would be to simplify life tremendously. The problem was that Vulcans did indeed have emotions, but they had to be suppressed. Controlled. And perhaps she had gone too far in her effort to control all aspects of her life.
It was not surprising, she mused. After all, in addition to being a Vulcan, she had chosen medicine as her vocation. She was a doctor, and there was no breed who had to stay more in control, both of situations and themselves, than doctors. And so she never had any opportunity, nor any inclination, to relax and be herself with anyone. She always, first and foremost, had to be steering a situation. She could never give herself over to the natural movement of the event. In all likelihood, her aborted and awful experience with Voltak had soured her on that notion forever. After all, she had done that very thing, there in the joining place with Voltak. She had let herself be carried along by the currents of their emotionality, and the two of them had paid a terrible price for it.
And she had sworn that day never to let down her guard again, with anyone, for anything, under any circumstance.
But now it was finally beginning to dawn on Selar that there was a world of difference between being emotionally repressed and emotionally crippled.
Her natural inclination, as a healer, was to help those who were crippled, in any way she could. Now, looking to her own needs, she found herself reminded of an admonition from the Earth bible which one of the teachers had once mentioned to her. A saying that was particularly appropriate at this time:
Physician, heal thyself.
"Computer, end program."
The plains of Vulcan vanished, to be replaced by the glowing yellow grids of the holodeck wall.
"Physician, heal thyself," she said, and then left the holodeck, although just for a moment she had the oddest feeling that she felt a faint wisp of a Vulcan wind on the back of her neck.
"Thallon, dead ahead, sir," announced McHenry. "Looks like they have some company."
That did indeed appear to be the case. There were several vessels already in orbit around Thallon. But only one of them immediately seized Calhoun's attention as he rose from his chair. "Son of a bitch," murmured Calhoun.
Shelby looked up in surprise. "Problem, Captain?"
"That ship there . . ." and he walked over to the screen and actually tapped on it. "Lefler, full magnification."
The ship promptly filled the entire screen. It was green and triangular in shape, with powerful warp engines mounted on the back.
Stepping away from her science station, Soleta observed, "That is a Xenexian ship, is it not, Captain?"
He nodded slowly. "It goes to show how quickly things change. When I lived there, we had no starbound ships. Our experiments with space travel were rudimentary at best. We weren't a starfaring race. Once we broke free from the Danteri, however, we began to take quantum leaps forward in our development. Sometimes I think it was the worst thing that ever happened to my people."
"The worst thing? Why?" asked Shelby.
He turned to face her. "Because I knew that we were getting help, and I never knew from where. It was a . . . rather sore point on the rare occasions when I came home. One of the main reasons I stopped coming home, as a matter of fact. But that's not just any Xenexian ship," and he turned back to the screen. "I recognize the markings on her. That's my brother's ship."
"Sir," Soleta spoke up. "The ion trail we were pursuing . . . it ends here. Not only that, but I believe that that vessel was the source of it."
"Hail her, Mr. Boyajian."
"Actually, Captain, they're hailing us."
"I suspected they would. Put them on screen."
A face appeared on the screen then, and Shelby was struck by the resemblance to Calhoun . . . and yet, by the differences as well. He looked like Mackenzie, but with a more self-satisfied, even smug manner about him. He inclined his head slightly and said, "Hello . . . Mackenzie." He overpronounced the name with tremendous exaggeration, as if it were unfamiliar to him. "That is how you wish to be called these days, is it not?"
"Where are my people, D'ndai?" Calhoun demanded without preamble.
D'ndai seemed amused by the lack of formality, " 'Your' people. I can see you making that reference to the rather large fellow in the Starfleet uniform . . . but am I to understand that Lord Si Cwan, former High Lord of the Thallonian Empire . . . is also to be grouped in among 'your' people?"