T'Mir opened the door to the transport cabin, and she smiled. It wasn't huge, and there were two twin beds against the window, with Earth below. Dante put their bags down and shut the door.

"I hope you don't mind the twin beds," he said. "I didn't want to be too forward."

T'Mir walked to the window and looked down at Earth, so blue and perfect from above. "It's so beautiful from above. Pictures and video don't do it justice. Was it really the first time you saw it just a few months ago?"

Dante came up next to her, and he took her hand. "Yes. It's been amazing to see my mother's place of birth. She used to tell me about it."

T'Mir squeezed his hand. She took a deep breath, and she said. "But it's not your father's ancestral world."

Dante looked at her, and his blue eyes bore into her. Her heart started to beat, but T'Mir resolved to continue. She couldn't keep lying to him.

"The way you always comb your hair over your ears. Or wear a hat. It's pretty familiar to me," she continued. "I know all the tricks." With her free hand, she reached up and brushed back his hair to reveal a pointed ear.

Dante sucked in a breath. "I wanted to meet you. I wanted to meet someone like me."

"I know how that feels," she said, "but you could have said something."

He squeezed her hand. "You'd have questions that I can't answer, about so many things."

T'Mir shook her head. "I get it. My parents are famous. Big heroes, and there was still an inquest. If someone thought you were augmented, it could get ugly. Plus people can be really weird about it. They used to call me a freak in school..."

She stopped talking. She expected him to be relieved that she knew his secret, but she sensed heavy and intense dread. She closed her eyes, and she did something that she knew was a terrible risk. She opened her mind to the visions that plagued her, visions of other universes, other timelines. These visions often told her things about people that she didn't want to know, that she had no right to know. She often saw terrible things. The noise of them threatened her sanity. But she opened her mind, and she saw a city on a far away world. Beautiful spires, illuminated against a violet sky. She saw Vulcans walking in the streets, smiling and laughing. She heard them speak, but it wasn't Vulcan. There were moons in the sky, and Vulcan has no moon.

She pushed back the vision. "You're not from an outer colony. You're not a boomer. Where are you from?"

Dante dropped her hand as though it had burned him. "What did you see?"

T'Mir closed her eyes. She wasn't supposed to know what Romulans looked like. Nobody was. But she knew, even though her parents tried to keep the secret.

"The Romulans," she said softly. "They took your mother."

He nodded. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "You could have told me. I wouldn't have said anything."

Dante pulled her into his arms, and she melted. This was huge, of course, but now that she knew the truth, they could figure out what to do.

"I'm not sorry about not telling you," he replied. "I'm sorry that you found out."

She was about to say something, but she felt a coldness on the back of her neck, and then a tingle. And then everything went dark.

Hank knocked furiously on the door of the Tucker house. He couldn't believe it, but he didn't have the codes to contact either one of T'Mir's parents via communicator. He also felt like he needed to talk to them in person. He hated the idea of snitching on T'Mir, but his instincts told him something was seriously wrong.

The door opened, and there stood Lorian, all square jawed and ice blue eyes. Hank swallowed. Lorian had always intimidated him, even when they were kids, and Hank had wished to be more like him so he could win his parents approval.

"Hi," said Hank nervously, "Are either of your parents home?"

Lorian shook his head. "They went to Vulcan with Charlie. My mother was summoned on a matter of importance."

"Must be nice for her to get back to the old homestead. I remember visiting there when I was a kid. Her family home is really gorgeous," replied Hank as he tentatively entered the house.

Lorian put his hands behind his back. "I remember the breakfast you prepared. Sugar cereal you had brought from Earth especially for that purpose."

Hank smiled at the memory. "I think your dad actually enjoyed it, and your mom was totally polite and cool about it."

Lorian relaxed a bit, and he gestured for Hank to follow him into the kitchen. "Truth be told, I think she probably enjoyed it as well. She has a sweet tooth that she lets very few people know about. It was one of the things that drew her to my father, so I understand."

Hank smiled softly, momentarily having forgot what brought him to the Tucker house. He took a deep breath, and he shook his head. Hank didn't know where to begin, or whether this was silly or not. He was beginning to think he was being unnecessarily paranoid.

"Is something wrong with T'Mir?" asked Lorian.

Hank's jaw dropped. Was he that transparent? "I'm not sure," he replied, "I think so. I don't know. How did you know? "

"You don't ever seem to worry about much, Hank," replied Lorian smoothly, "but you're always concerned when my sister has an episode." Lorian gestured for Hank to come inside, and Hank detected impatience from Lorian. "Is she having visions? The kind she can't control through drawing?"

"It's nothing like that," Hank said as he looked around the familiar Tucker kitchen. "She went to Mars with this guy she met."

Lorian blinked. "I assume this is a romantic relationship. Why is this a matter of concern? She is an adult."

Hank nodded, he started pacing a little bit. "It's the guy. He just showed up at her opening a few weeks ago, and he's like gorgeous and charming and a little strange. Perfect for her, really. He wasn't raised on Earth. And I don't know. He seemed real eager to get T'Mir to go away with him. She told me not to tell anyone where she was going. She's not usually like that. She's usually an open book, and when I questioned her, I just got a bad feeling."

Lorian folded his arms. "Perhaps this young man is pursuing her for her fame and family connections? T'Mir's paintings sell across the quadrant, for sums that amaze me. Mother and father place the money in trust, and the trustee is hardly going to allow her to support some starry eyed fortune hunter."

Hank put his hands in his face. "I don't think that's it. And what's weird, he seems really into her. But I still just...you must think I'm crazy."

Lorian went to the refrigerator, and to Hank's surprise he pulled out a couple of beers. The home brewed kind that Captain Tucker made and only allowed people to drink on special occasions. Lorian opened both bottles, and he handed one to Hank.

"Thank you," replied Hank softly.

"I don't think you are crazy. You probably know my sister better than anyone." Lorian paused. "You've been more of a brother to her than me."

Hank sipped his beer, amazed at what sounded like hurt in Lorian's voice. "I wouldn't know. I'm an only child, but I appreciate the sentiment. Look, maybe I'm wrong. I probably am..."

Lorian leaned over. "You know my father's small puddle jumper? I have the command codes, and I'm allowed to take it as far as Mars. Why don't we go and check on T'Mir? It will put your mind at ease."

Hank felt relief wash over his body. "You'd do that for me?"

Lorian shrugged. "She's my sister, and whatever the situation with her boyfriend is, he should know that she has friends and family who love her."

Dante couldn't believe it. The incompetent Mars maintenance crew was still waiting on the part that he needed in order begin his journey. He knew better than to leave without permission. His small transport ship had been specifically chosen for its ubiquity, and the fact that its presence would be virtually unnoticed.

He stared at the sarcophagus, a twinge of guilt hitting him. He had already resolved to advocate for T'Mir once they got to Romulus, perhaps even claim her as a mate. He certainly wasn't going to let anyone harm her. They just needed to study her, make use of her extraordinary mind. They would never damage such a precious commodity.

Dante checked the bio readings for the fiftieth time that day, but this time he saw something that concerned him. The brain activity should have been even, slow. She was in stasis after all, but that's not what he saw. The data indicated a racing mind. The numbers seemed to be getting worse, too.

Dante ran a finger across the panel, wondering if there was something wrong with the instruments. But he didn't think so. He stared at the screen as the numbers got worse and worse, and his stomach began to turn.

Eventually, it wasn't just T'Mir's mind, but her body that started to show signs of heavy stress. Her vitals were above normal. Alarms began scream out at Dante. It wouldn't be long before she was taken out of stasis automatically.

But that might be too late. Dante punched the code in to revive her, consequences be damned.

Hank paced. He'd always hated space travel because there was always so much stupid, awkward time. His dad always made it out like it was non stop excitement, but what it really was was a lot of waiting, while awkwardly cooped up with people who didn't like you.

And when he waited, Hank began to second guess himself. "I bet you think I'm crazy," he said to Lorian, who was in the pilot's chair.

Lorian's eyebrow raised up, and Hank thought he detected a tell tale smile. Shades of Lorian's human side, which made him, well, seem far more human to Hank.

Lorian stood up. "I hope you don't wear a hole in the floor of my father's ship."

Hank shrugged. "I'm sure he'd enjoy fixing it. And you didn't answer my question. Do you think I'm crazy?"

Lorian sighed. "I believe you are concerned with my sister, and although I believe you are being melodramatic, there is enough of a chance that you are correct that I don't believe we are wasting our time."

Hank shook his head. "I get the feeling that you think any time spent near me is a waste of time."

"That assumption is incorrect," replied Lorian, and he put his hands on Hank's shoulders and leaned over. He kissed Hank on the mouth. It hit Hank like an electric current.

Lorian's mouth was hot, and the kiss was firm. As the shock dissipated, Hank returned the kiss, and he melted into it.

And then it was over.

Lorian then returned to the pilot's seat and began tapping at the navigation controls, as though nothing had happened.

"Lorian," said Hank, "you do realize you just kissed me?"

"Of course I do," replied Lorian smoothly. "I've wanted to kiss you for a considerable period of time. I simply never had the opportunity before this because you are usually joined at the hip with my sister."

Hank shook his head, and he ran a hand through his hair. He was starting to feel pissed off. "You know, it's pretty arcane to live in a closet. Is it different on Vulcan or something? Because basically you kissing me is the last thing I ever thought would happen, and I've got pretty good gaydar..."

Lorian turned and his blue eyes met Hank's. "It's a little different on Vulcan, but I've never lived in a closet. I told my parents I was gay when I was ten years old. They had decided to find me a Vulcan bride, and so it became a necessity to tell them why that would be illogical."

Hank's mouth dropped open. "But how come you never said anything?"

"It wasn't your business or anyone else's business. I wasn't looking for a romantic partnership," replied Lorian. "Since I kissed you, it is now your business."

"T'Mir doesn't know?" asked Hank slowly.

Lorian shook his head. "My romantic life is none of her concern."

Hank inhaled, and he suddenly didn't know if he wanted to kiss Lorian or punch his smug face. "That's stupid! Really stupid, Lorian. You know, she could have...she would find it...it makes you far more interesting. And then she would have told me and..."

Lorian turned in his seat. "And what?"

Hank paused. "And I would have gotten to kiss you earlier, maybe."

Lorian smirked. "I didn't think I was your type."

Hank swallowed. "What would you know about my type? You hardly know me. And we're hardly compatible."

Lorian tapped into the controls. "Autopilot is on." He stood up, and he looked Hank in the eye. "Compatible is a complex term. It certainly doesn't mean two people who are precisely alike. Look at my parents. They do share traits in common. Love of science and engineering. Passion for their work. A love of exploration. Loyalty. But they are quite different in personality. Logic dictates that I should choose a mate that is similarly complimentary."

Hank sighed. "What do we have in common?"

Lorian thought for a moment. "We both love my sister, and we both worry about her. We both feel pressure to live up the legacy of our parents, though I admit that pressure manifests in different ways. But mostly, I think we could balance one another out."

"Should chaos and order mate?" asked Hank.

Lorian leaned down again. "When they did, it created the universe didn't it?"

Hank felt himself blush a little. "That's very poetic. I didn't think you had it in you, to be poetic."

Lorian took Hank's hand. "There are sides of me that you should get to know."

Hank blushed, and he felt warm all over, and Lorian leaned in and kissed him again.