It was not quite seventeen-hundred hours when she came to the correct corridor, and so she decided to return to her own quarters for a short while. After all, after a lecture in military logistics, she gathered that she deserved a rest. She keyed in the correct pass-code to open the door, and it slid open with a clean whoosh.
Accordingly, she stripped off her jacket and lay it on the bed, yawning. She was just about to lie down when she became aware of the door to the sanitation room being opened. She pretended to be asleep. But the sound of his voice compelled her to open her eyes.
"I did not know you had a convalescence period now."
She sat up, stroking the back of her head, and she noticed that he was dressed in his exercise uniform. "I don't. But Professor Va'alr isn't here today-"
"I know," he added.
"-And she sent us a message informing us to revise for the test on military history next week."
"I have taken that test. It is not difficult." A pause. "What has happened to your arm?" he inquired, an eyebrow cocked as he leant over her.
She snatched her arm up defensibly. "It's nothing."
"Let me see."
"Really, it's fine."
But he wouldn't leave it be, and she held her arm out. The skin near her elbow had adopted a reddish colour. It had appeared overnight.
"See? It's nothing," she added quickly, pulling her sleeve down over her bruised arm.
Then he sat beside her on the bed, and she was slightly alarmed when the furniture dipped a little where he had positioned himself. "It's not nothing."
"It doesn't hurt."
"You're not a Klingon," he snorted. "It causes you some form of discomfort." Then he bowed his head and exhaled. "I did it."
"Last night..." she began, fading off before she had finished her sentence, though she had no idea as to how she would have finished her sentence.
Evidently, the revelation that he had hurt her – that he had caused her injury – had a bad effect on him.
"It doesn't matter, really," she pressed.
"Of course it does!" he snapped; sweat was forming on his brow. "I can't control myself. I take out my own problems on you."
"Perhaps I provoked you," she said, forming the words carefully. Certainly, she agreed with his side of things. It wasn't acceptable to attack another person. At least, that was her original view point. But, then again, hadn't she incited him? After all, she had implied that he didn't respect the praetor. And that was an offence against the Romulan people.
He let out a bitter laugh. "I know you know that isn't true. What is true is that I don't love my father because hedoesn't love me. His one true consideration is the Romulan people. Just not his son."
His wistful, saddened gaze caused something in Lara's heart to twang. She could not empathise with him, but she could sympathise, surely. She looked up at him and sighed, a sad smile forming on her lips. "You got angry, and I understand."
She could've sworn that a tear was starting to form in his eye, but he had blinked away before its inception. And he was no longer facing her. He was troubled, she knew that much. But she couldn't form her own opinion of the praetor until she had met him. And that seemed quite unlikely, seeing as his position basically prevented him from mingling with lower-rank people. Rank was everything among the Romulans.
"Look, I've got to go now," she said softly. "I said that I'd visit a friend." She made her way to the door. "See you later, Jo'rek."
When she was free from the confusion of that room, she found little to no relief in her brother's room. When she had pressed the comm panel and made herself known, Data's voice had given that simple command: "Come."
"What took you so long?" Charles moaned, his gaze wandering curiously over her person.
She scowled at him.
"Never mind," he said quickly, casting Seb a slightly wounded look, but Seb was only amused.
"I am glad that you could meet with us," Data then began, beckoning for her to take a seat. She did so, delicately. "Now, what is it that you wish to discuss?"
As always happened whenever she was nervous, her finger strayed up to her head to fiddle with her hair. Composing herself, she replied bluntly, "It's Jo'rek." Ignoring her brother's pointed glance, she carried on. "His father is the praetor."
"His father is the what?" Seb spluttered, wide-eyed with amazement. "The praetor? But isn't that who..."
Data shook his head at that, raising a finger. "I understand your confusion. However, it is the proconsul – the deputy, if you will – who we suspect."
"Who we suspect of betraying his people – I mean, our people?" Seb asked, frowning as he spoke. Evidently, he had confused himself with his choice of words, and now he looked lost.
Data's head cocked to one side and he maid a noise of contemplation. "Yes. Now… the proconsul is a gentleman named Vithir."
"Data, you knew who Jo'rek was, didn't you?" Lara asked, looking at him.
"I had an idea," he replied cryptically. "However, Cadet Jo'rek's parentage should hopefully serve us well."
She didn't much like the sound of that.
"So, all we need to do is really get on Jo'rek's good side, and perhaps he can introduce us to his father?" Charles suggested, seeing no other way than that particular course of action.
Lara had her head in her hands, groaning at her brother's short-sightedness. Sensing that all three of them had their eyes firmly focused on her, she gave in. "It won't be that easy."
"Whyever not?" Data inquired, seemingly perplexed.
"Because he doesn't like his father," she replied shortly. "He hates his father."
"What gave you that impression?" Seb asked.
"Jo'rek told me that… that, well, his fatherdoesn't trust him and has no faith in him." The more she thought about it, the sadder it was.
"Ah," Seb gave his whole-hearted reply.
"But the fact that he feels comfortable talking about it with you..." Data began.
Lara stood up suddenly. "Look. I know what you're going to say. You want me to spy on Jo'rek. You want me to get to know him really well. Know his shortfalls and his skills. So that I can worm my way into his affections and then we can get a direct line to the praetor?"
Data nodded, nonplussed. "Precisely."
No amount of sighs would be sufficient, she decided. So she massaged her temples. "I just don't want him to get hurt."
Seb sighed and got to his feet, approaching her. "This is the best way."
"I know it is."
"If we don't find a way to expose the proconsul and the Starfleet minister for what they're doing..."
This was serious. She knew that. "Yes. I'll do it. Whatever it takes."
After a few days with the dreadful knowledge that she would have to continue lying to Jo'rek, Lara thought that it would be hard to make her feel any worse. But she had been thinking rather prematurely. Professor Va'alr's advice to her and her class was still quite fresh in her mind, and she was determined on passing the class. Whatever it took to stand her in good stead. She wondered if Charles and Seb would have a similar approach. Of course they wouldn't: their thinking was to accumulate as much as they could by doing as little as possible.
But try as she might, she was stuck on one question. Her padd and her fellow classmates had not been very forthcoming in offering her any sort of aid, but it was soon becoming second-nature to her to realise that Romulans as a species were not open books.
"Jo'rek?" she asked of him.
At present, his attention was fixed firmly on an object in his hand. It was small and grey in colour, had a discernible trigger and barrel, and Lara fought back the compulsion to shudder when she saw that it was, in fact, a disruptor. She had no idea they were permitted in the academy.
"It's not real, if you're worried," he said with a grin, as if he had read her mind.
She laughed quietly. "Could you help me with this military history work?"
"It depends what the topic is." He put the disruptor model down.
"Specifically, the Earth-Romulan War. I've got it started, but I'm not sure how to continue."
He took her padd and read it through, and as he did so a thoughtful smile formed on his lips. She found herself watching him. Then he raised an eyebrow. "The introduction is very good, but I am not sure if it is a balanced work."
"Balanced? In what way?" she inquired, reading over the work. And then it dawned on her. "Oh."
A major interstellar conflict of the twenty-second century, the war between Earth and the Romulans led to much being learnt in the fields of battle tactics and approach. The war itself lasted four years, from 2156 to 2160, and it saw many gallant soldiers fall. United Earth was aided by the Vulcans and the Andorians, though the sheer might of the Romulan Star Empire's forces led to catastrophes across the Quadrant.
Biting her lip, she could do nought but curse herself.
"It seems almost as if you were denying the greatness of our involvement."
"About that..." she began, though no more words were queued up. "I was going for a new perspective."
To her utter dismay – and surprise – he laughed. When he had sobered up, he held her in a stern gaze.
He was right, though. It did seem as though she was backing United Earth and its allies. Of course she would. But a Romulan wouldn't. Then she snatched the padd off of him and slammed it down on the desk, face-down. "I'll come back to it."
"I'm not saying that it doesn't deserve merit," he maintained.
"Thanks," she replied, with a wry smile. "Can I ask you something?"
He considered. "Yes."
"Why did you kiss me?"
"Because I wanted to."
She had to admit; he was attractive. He was not quite the Prince Charming that she had often thought about, but ultimately, she didn't really care. He was intelligent and sensitive but he seemed like a difficult person to figure out. But she liked him. "You…wanted to?"
He did not answer straight away. Instead, he looked down at his feet and then finally directed his gaze up into her eyes. "Yes. I did." he paused. "And I am sorry if that upsets you."
In different circumstances, she might have smiled at his naivete and his sweetness, but she was not able to do this now. She had no idea how exactly Romulans got into relationships – even friendships. Let alone romantic ones. "No, it doesn't upset me. I ought to leave now; the exam's in ten minutes. Thanks for your help." She smiled weakly and then stood up, about to make for the door, when she felt his hand on her arm.
There were something like fear in his eyes; he seemed worried that he would hurt her again. But she did not look scared of him, and he had registered that. Standing before her, he raised his hand and stroked her cheek gently. She nearly started but found something inside of her telling herself to calm down. And so she did. She leant into his touch. He brought his head forwards and downwards and touched his lips to hers, softly and gently, not at all aggressively. She had her arms around his neck, with his hands on her face and her waist. She pulled back after a while, totally shocked.
He looked at her with his enigmatic blue eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but she put her finger to his lips, silencing him. "You're not going to apologise again, are you?"
A wry smile crossed his lips then. "I shall not," he murmured, leaning in to kiss her again.
She would have conceded and responded to hisadvances there and then, but time was marching on and she knew that she had a test to get to. A test that she needed to pass. So she pulled back from him and kissed him on the cheek. "I have to go now."
When she had left the dorm and the door had slid safely shut behind her, she felt her heart grow light and dainty; she felt slightly light-headed, a feeling that she had not felt for so long. The smile that was now on her face would have remained for aeons, had the realisation not come to her mind that she would have to lie to Jo'rek. That she would have to use him. She did not think that she could do that.