Box's questions still spun in her head. Describe her day, what she ate, who she talked to. What was being taught in class, and what meditation had she learned. She hadn't talked so much a week, and was tired of the exercise but the box insisted that the devices it contained should be set up as soon as she could. The devices were blocky and heavy and needed to be put in the corners of the ceiling. She asked Danek to help after she had cleaned up some.

"What are these?" Danek asked, hefting the gun metal gray block in his hands.

"I'm not sure," Juliette said as she stood tiptoe on a wobbling table. "Matron sent a message with it that I should set it up as soon as I'm able."

"Matron is your mother?"

"Yes, but matron is head of the house. Not every mother is a matron. My mother is also Matron of House Sri."

"Is that important?"

Juliette tsked, and reached perilously on her tiptoes to seat the device.

"I didn't mean to offend."

"You have to place it all the way into the corner," The box said.

"I trying!" Juliette snapped. She clutched the heavy device in both hands and jumped, the table twisting out from under her feet. Juliette cried out, but instead of falling, the device snapped out legs, and clung in the corner, with a soft whirr its single glass eyes turned to the center as Juliette dangled below.

"Fascinating," Danek said.

Juliette let go, landing on the floor.

"You should have let me do that," Danek said as he righted the table.

"I had it, and yes, House Sri is important. We're a member of the Pentahectad."

"The what?"

"There are a thousand houses that officially guide and lead Betazed. House Sri is in the top five hundred." She grimaced as she dusted her hands on her robe, her fingers suddenly sticky and gritty again. "Zattre got everywhere."

"I'm sure mother will not mind if you get a fresh robe from storage. I thought Betazed was more democratic."

"It is democratic. We have elections and stuff, just it's the houses that really make things happen."

"That's not democratic. Democracy is the will of the people."

"Duh. Houses are made up of people."

"It sounds like an aristocracy."

"It's not."

"You are in error. Any time there is a cabal of ruling families it's -"

"It is not. The family rankings are determined by the people. There's the community rankings, the contribution ranking, the people's familiarity rankings, religious rankings, but they're a joke-"

Danek frowned. "That sounds complicated."

"Of course, it would. I'm getting another robe," she said and left before he could reply.

At home, storage was for rare teas and heirlooms, and the rest was replicated when needed. Juliette had yet to see a working replicator here or at the monastery. P'nem had said the disturbances from the war kept them from functioning. People that lived in the Sas-a-shar had what the needed, or did without. Why anyone did that, when there was a perfectly good city close by, was madness.

Storage was categorized, boxed, sealed and labeled with slender Vulcan script, with the same hermetic quality as the rest of the house. Even the pile of materials to be sent back for de-replication was tidy. Neat, however, did not mean order, and Juliette didn't know where to begin, and wandered between rows of shelves and squinting through the regiments of translucent containers. Toward the top of a shelf, she spied folded cloth and stood on the edge of a lower shelf to reach. It did not budge until she heaved and fell backward into the de-replication pile, scattering old cloth and parts. She started hastily re-piling things before she remembered no one was home except Danek, who was probably arguing with the gift box. Aristocracy. He has some nerve.

Juliette sighed. Be compassionate. He couldn't help being ignorant. She started arranging the pile more deliberately. Perhaps she could explain how the houses worked over dinner. When the pile was more or less back the way it was, a piece on the floor caught her eye.

It was a cloak pin, or a broach, in the form of a bird. It's tarnished wings were outspread. As bent and discolored as it was,it was the first piece of jewelry she'd seen. A piece of junk to be de-replicated, but still, she slipped it into the pocket of the fresh robe she found.

When Juliette returned to her room, the devices that crouched in the corners of the ceiling whirred and their singular eyes converged toward the middle of the room, where a person flickered into view. He looked not much older than Juliette and almost as tall as Danek. His pale face held a mischievous smirk and was topped by a perfect-formed wave of jet hair.

"State the nature of the Fashion Emergency." His gaze focused on Juliette, then seized her shoulders turning her around abruptly, his expression frozen in horror. "Oh, red alert. What is that haircut?"

Juliette twisted around. "Stop. Who-What are you?"

He stood a little taller and straightened his shirt with a flourish. "I'm the Emergency Style Hologram." He looked around. "Is this is the couture apocalypse?"

Danek narrowed his eyes. "An ESH?"

He touched Danek's nose with a slender finger. "Got it in one! I am familiar with over twenty thousand styling techniques, and well versed with the latest news from Betazed - House standings, fashions, music -"

"Hairstyling?" Juliette asked.

"Over twenty thousand styles, including-"

Danek shook his head. "This hardly seems and efficient use of-"

"Inefficient?" The hologram crossed his arms and gave the Vulcan a slow once over. "It must have taken a lot of energy to look that dowdy."

"I do not see-"

Both of them looked toward Juliette as she cleared her throat. She sat on the kneeling bench. "Initiate Danek?"

"Novice Sri."

"One is grateful for your assistance. "

Danek gave a shallow nod. "I am pleased I could be of-"

"Don't you have any meditating to do? I would like some time to evaluate this ESH." She cast a meaningful look toward the door.

Danek's serene expression was marred by a small frown. "I suppose I do."

Juliette waited for the door to close before casting a pleading look to the EHH. "Fix me."

With a curt nod, he opened the box. "As the matron wishes. Let me get my things."

"Do you have a name?"

He placed scissors and comb on the table with surgical precision. "I can respond to any name you give me, though consistency is helpful."

"Okay, let me think on that, but first, tell me what's going on back home."

First a wash, then a cut. The ESH chattered. Juliette was not unmissed on Betazed, and questions to House Sri about the whereabouts of its off-world scion were carefully fended off under the guise of 'last ditch treatment'. The great houses expressed their best wishes and invoked many artifacts, adding an air of mysticism to an already growing enigma. The mystery, coupled with events and portents which, both beneficial and dire, created an atmosphere which sent those that tracked house standing into a frenzy which could be felt for kilometers.

Lara had entered into the Starfleet preparatory program, a move that chagrinned both Matron and the pentahectad as a whole, many of whom still blamed Starfleet for the Dominion occupation still, even after a quarter-century. Kanara is angry most of all - her father died fighting for the resistance, after all. But she had never known him, and while sad, a consort seemed no reason to be angry at a sister.

Juliette sighed, the velvet creeper leaf cradled in her palms. So much, so quickly. It would all change without her. She felt the light rap of a comb on her head.

"Do not fret, Scion. Your hair is salvageable."

"It's not my hair that's bothering me."

"Well, it should be. Passion operas have turned into bloody tragedies for less, your haircut is enough to make Rixx weep. But I have once again lived up to the promise of my manufacture! Behold!" As he stood in front of her, the shape of his chest flattened, and became silvery.

Juliette turned her head as she studied her reflection, pleased that her bangs didn't just lie there like a curtain. "Does my family miss me?"

"Like no other."

"I miss them. Box, make sure they know."

"They will be the very first words sent, Scion," the box said with a nod of its moon-face.

"Don't leave me in suspense," The ESH whined. "Is it wonderful, or the most wonderful?"

Juliette turned her head to the other side. Unlike the bangs which clung to her forehead, the hair at the back of her head was full, and stood out, layered over a shaved portion at the base of her skull. It was a small change from the previous cut, but made the bowl less uniform and more playful. "I like it."

The ESH swooned. "She only likes it! I'm a failure." He clutched his scissors high above his chest, ready to plunge them downward.

So theatrical. He was a delight and she wished there were ten of him. She put her nose to the air and proclaimed, "May I remind you that I am a Scion of House Sri-"

"Who could forget?" The ESH gave her a sweeping bow.

"-of the Four Hundred and Thirty-Third House of Betazed? What we like is equal to a hundred adoration of distinguished, if lesser houses-"

"At least a hundred!" said Box,

"Who we are pledged to provide patronage," Juliette rushed to add.

"I stand corrected," the ESH, giving Juliette a wink.

"And I do love it, " Juliette said when she caught her breath from laughing.

"You're not saying that to be kind?"

"I'm not, though we are famed for our compassion," Juliette said, looking more closely with a hand mirror. The style grew on her the more she looked. She laughed and shook her head a little, and turned to the ESH with a smile that faded as she saw him with the helmet in his hands. "You have my permission to destroy that."

"I'm afraid it's still necessary, Scion," the box said.

"For what?"

"Measurement of your progress." the ESH said, pulling a set of tools from the gift box and set to work on the helmet.

Juliette stood and peered into an empty box. "I didn't see tools in there."

"Not everything in the box is for you." The ESH said, fiddling with the helmet.

"What else is in there?"

"Things," The ESH said.

"Odds and ends," The box added.

Juliette frowned. "You're both playing with me."

The ESH lowered the helmet on her head. "Scowling creates wrinkles, Scion, please do bear with it - it's only for ten minutes." He pressed it down tight, securing the straps. "Just to take a reading. Now, serious matters. Have the Vulcans made any demands?"

Juliette felt her merriment drain away. "No."

The ESH sighed. "The Vulcans have made no demands of the family, to keep your location on Vulcan a secret."

"I wish I could go home," Juliette said with her own sigh, falling back to a seat on her bed.

"You could go home," the ESH said in a quiet voice.

"But the emotions, the thoughts - they were too much. I thought the only answer was-

The ESH nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder. "The doctors would have to put a psilosynine neutralizer in your paracortex."

Juliette rested her cheek against the ESH's hand. It was warm, far more real than any projection at the monastery, but the most important part, the presence - that wonderful cloud of emotions and thoughts that surrounded any living, thinking being - was absent.

"The procedure is painless," said the box.

"But then I'd lose my abilities, wouldn't I?"

The box was no longer smiling. "Yes, you would."

"Forever?"

"The procedure is currently irreversible," the box said.

"I don't want to be inert," Juliette said, her hands squeezing the leaf in its case. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because you have options, Scion, " The ESH said. "Your family wants you to know that. Whether you can feel it or not, the love of House Sri is immutable."

"There are no options," Juliette said, her frantic gaze darting between them. "The whole world filled with holograms? The only way to speak is with my tongue? The only way to hear is with my ears? Alone?" Juliette shuddered. "That's not an option, that's a prison."

"Many have gone through the procedure," the box said, "and have gone on to live happy-"

Juliette felt numb as she shook her head. She could still remember that moment when her presence emerged. Words couldn't approach the moment when she could feel everything, and everyone was so close, so connected. "I'd rather die," She said, and for a moment was surprised at how hollow and calm she felt. "I would. I'd rather be dead, and if I'd rather be dead, I can stay on Vulcan."

The hologram and the box looked at each other. Juliette felt her hands aching and relaxed her grip on the case. The corners had dug deep red marks in her palms.

"I win the bet," the box said to the ESH.

Juliette's gaze darted between the two, then narrowed on the ESH. "You bet I'd opt to be inert?"

The ESH unstrapped the helmet. "It's not a bet if someone doesn't take the other side. Besides, who could possibly want to live in this fashion wasteland?"