After they had received reasonably stoic congratulations from the exercise sergeant once he had found out that they had won the exercise, and after they had been used as an example to all of the other cadets who had 'failed' – including Data, Charles and Seb – they were allowed to return to their quarters for much deserved rest.

Lara had had her head stuck out of the dorm's single small window for longer than she cared to remember, breathing in the scent of the alien air. As if it would help her feel closer to Earth than she really was. Lightyears and lightyears away from home. But that was what life was like in Starfleet. Sometimes, more often than not, she could think of nothing nicer than being able to tell Jo'rek who she really was. Had she been a bit more naive, she might have thought that he wouldn't have cared if she were a human, but though he seemed like a reasonable Romulan, she wasn't prepared to take any chances.

At last, she withdrew herself back into the room and closed the window. It shut with a thunk and Jo'rek looked up to see her. He had been reading something on his padd, and she wondered if it was to do with Surak. But she knew how dangerous that would be.

"What are you reading?" she asked. In a way, she was glad for that treacherous experience of earlier that day. She might have gotten wet and muddy and fed up, but she had finally gotten somewhere with Jo'rek. He was now a little less mysterious.

He cocked an eyebrow, regarding her for a moment. "Nothing important."

She frowned. She was interested in why he was being so closed, but she didn't want to press it. "It's none of my business, I suppose," she replied shortly.

Then she stepped into the washroom, emerging later on, ready to get some sleep at last.

Jo'rek showed no signs of falling asleep. He was still reading whatever was on his padd, intently, it seemed. He never looked up from it. He sighed. "It is a letter from my mother. She wrote it when I was only young."

Lara felt her heart stop for a brief moment. She glanced over at him and smiled sadly. "You don't have to tell me," she said softly. With her back momentarily to him, she got herself a glass of water from the replicator.

"I don't see why not," he countered, his tone of voice tight. He seemed as though he might either cry or curse with anger.

"Look, I know it's not my place to say so, and far be it for me to say otherwise… but you seem more attached to your mother than your father."

He nodded. "Very perceptive." He paused. "I presume you areclose with your family?"

"I am." She was proud and happy to admit so, but she was ultimately saddened. She missed them. Enormously. She couldn't even contact them – at least, if she did, her call would be traced and she would be placed in jeopardy and the mission would be a write-off. How would Starfleet Command deal with that?

"My father hates everything that I am," Jo'rek revealed, his tone wavering. "I joined the academy because I had to."

"Not because you wanted to," she added, but she saw that perhaps that was taking it a step too far.

"I have put his departmentto shame."

"His department?"

"Do you not know who my father is?" he asked, curious and bemused. Everyone knew who his father was.

She shook her head. "No."

"He is the head of the Romulan Senate. Praetor Jirruit."

For a moment, she could do very little but watch him and consider. He really was the most unassuming of individuals, and yet apparently his father was the most influential and most important member of his species. And also the most powerful. Lara then had a horrid thought cross her mind: was it all a ruse? Had this Jirruit arranged for her and his son to share a dormitory so that she might betray Federation secrets to him? No. That was ridiculous. Besides, how would Jirruit even know that she was not a Romulan, that she was a human on an Academy mission? After all, it was the proconsul that Data had heard speaking with the Starfleet official all those months ago, wasn't it? It wasn't the head of the Senate.

Snapping out of her unpleasant reverie, Lara returned to the real world to find Jo'rek staring at her wildly, as if he were calculating what she might say next.

"Ah," she said, nodding her head. Now that she came to think of it, she was sure that she recognised the name. Jirruit. Perhaps she had not heard it as often as Jo'rek had, but she still had a vague recollection of having heard it being mentioned at the Academy once or twice. "I have heard that the praetor is a blessing upon our people."

Jo'rek's face visibly twitched at the sound of that. "Yes," he muttered. "He is indeed a blessing."

"Will you tell me why you don't like him?" she asked.

He looked aghast. "Don't talk like that."

She regarded him, quietly and thoughtfully. "Why not?"

His eyes narrowed and he came over to her, crossing the room in a flash. He was standing over her and she was still hovering by the replicator, glass of water in hand. She soon found herself having backed into the wall, with him glaring down at her. She retained her grip on the glass, and the glass was starting to feel slippery.

"Just don't," was his single command, and she barely even nodded. Apparently, he had not seen her acquiescence, which made him even more unreadable.

Lara reached behind her and put the water back on the replicator shelf. Then she resumed her gaze at him. His eyes had darkened and his hair was hanging in his face. But his mouth had twisted from the usual unreadable, bemused expression to one of menace.

"Why?" she maintained, her tone of voice showing no signs of fluctuating. She was a Romulan. And Romulans did not give in.

He was determined and angry and protective, a dangerous combination.

"Look, Jo'rek," she began slowly, her pulse starting to increase and her heart-beat starting to get erratic. "I am sorry if I have-"

But he did not permit her to finish her sentence, apology though it was, for he had seized her arm and was holding it above her head. She looked around the room, wide-eyed, then back at him.

"Do you have any idea what you're talking about?" Her dumbfounded, scared expression incited in him an angry sigh. "Treason, that's what. And you know what the punishment for that is."

She didn't have to be told what the punishment might be. "Will you get offme?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes.

He had released his grip from her arm but still had her pressed against the wall and he would not let her go from his sight. When she was let go at last, she breathed a sigh of relief and instantly turned her back to him. She felt his footsteps on the hard floor; he was walking towards her again.

"Leave me alone."

"I'm sorry," he said in a small voice, sounding defeated and apologetic. "I shouldn't have done that."

When she woke up the following morning, she found that Jo'rek had already left. So she washed and changed before meeting up with Charles, Seb and Data, and the three of them left for the canteen. It was not her first visit to the canteen, but she was still totally astounded by the atmosphere of the place. It certainly was far-removed from the canteen back at Starfleet Academy.

There was no laughter in the room, and the only topics being talked about seemed to be related to scholarly or military matters. Indeed, the only real form of interaction seemed to be when the students placed their orders with the replicators.

"What have you found so far?" Charles asked his sister, very quietly,as they got their food – it did not look pleasant – and they took their seats.

She shook her head and stabbed at the food on her plate with her fork. "Quite a bit, thanks to that survival exercise." She looked up at him. "How about you?"

"Not as much as you, I don't think," he said, and she instantly recognised the mischievous look in his eyes.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she snapped, then realised that Seb and Data were staring at her.

"Come on, Latuka, I'm not an idiot." He smirked.

Her blood was boiling. "I have no idea what you mean. Now, eat your breakfast."

"So… what's Jo'rek really like?" he asked.

Massaging her forehead, she looked up at him. "He is a very talentedand promising young cadet."

But her brother only grinned. To her relief, though, he let the subject go.

"We'll be late, you know," Seb whispered to Charles. "And you're already in Professor Topar's bad books. He'll string you up if you're late again."

"Suppose," he conceded, and he left with Seb, but not before giving his sister one last look.

Data had been watching the conversation unfold with some degree of interest. "I am under the impression that you did not enjoy Cadet Chebais' question."

"Thenyou're under the right impression, and I think you know why," she said to him, as they made their way over to the waste-disposal unit to get rid of their plates. Data was finding the practise of eating quite intriguing.

"I heard some rather unusual noises emanating from your dormitory last night," he said.

She raised an eyebrow. "What sort of unusual noises?"

"A first there were raised voices, and then a lot of movement. And then I do believe both you and Jo'rek raised your voices to ninety decibels."

"You've got very good hearing, I'll give you that."

"We Romulans have always had very sensitive auditory abilities."

She giggled. "Was that an attempt at humour?"

"It was an attempt."

"But, seriously, Data. I need to talk to you. Well, and Charles and Seb, too," she said, her voice becoming calmer and less trivial.

"Perhaps it would be best to discuss this somewhere more private. I shall meet you in my quarters at seventeen-hundred hours, if that is convenient for you."

"Yes. That's fine," she agreed.