Quarters- #70 "Not a logical action." Message-ID: <e0fecd+feeb@eGroups.com> User-Agent: eGroups-EW/0.82 MIME-Version: 1.0 Content-Type: text/plain; charset="ISO-8859-1" Content-Transfer-Encoding: quoted-printable X-Mailer: Yahoo Groups Message Poster X-Yahoo-Post-IP: X-Yahoo-Newman-Property: groups-compose Sender: notify@yahoogroups.com X-Yahoo-GPoster: 6GJYFtb9NNVkEGQs

[Deck 6, USS Pegasus, Corridors, and Quarters]

[On] Sulan walks the corridors mumbling inanely to herself. "Computer: Please direct me to the quarters I've been asigned." The computer issues a series of directions, and she repeats them to herself without thinking. "Why am I repeating my thoughts out loud?" she asks quietly to nobody in paticular, "This course of action is not logical. Perhaps I am mentally-ill? It would be most unfortunate if that were so, because my mission would be compromised, and I would become a danger to my controlers..."

She enters the quarters. They are spare and spartan. A small bed, a table with a small vase of flowers, bathroom, small two seat couch, and replicator. "These quarters are quite suitable, if not overly decorated." She takes the pot of flowers and puts it into the replicator for reclaimation. "Logically, they will have restricted my access to the computers systems, so I cannot gain any tactical information in that manner."

She strips off the Romulan uniform, and steps into the sonic shower. "This situation is most unfortunate. There is no doubt that the Cammander will take advantage of this situtation to interogate me further." She turns off the sonic shower, and stare at her body in the mirror for a moment. "Though I try to deny it, I sometimes wish that the circumstances of my life had turned out differently." She leaves the bathroom, and replicates a set of clothing for herself. Simple Vulcan clothing, of undyed fabric and of a practical design. After dressing, she walks tward the bed and lies down. Laying flat on her back,she steeples her fingers in a Vulcan meditation style. "Computer: reduce lighting to thirty percent, and play the following selection: Seekram's Vulcan Chant's number Three hundred eleven, with volume at fifteen percent."

The music plays softly, while Sulan chants along, perfectly in tune with it. She knows each ebb and flow of the chant, it's timber, and meter, just as well as she knows the scar pattern on the back of her hand. She follows along, thinking only of the chant itself. Halfway throught the performace, she falls into an exhaused sleep, her dreams troubled by the weight of memories...

[off] Sublieutenant Telek Sulan USS Pegasus