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Time is running out. The Betazed delegation must make a decision very soon, and Tarima suspects that this decision will seal the barrier.
So she takes advantage of her last hours on Earth to briefly immerse herself in the sea of alien emotions. Or she even deliberately stir up a wave in this sea. Simply because soon she'll find herself back behind the barrier, where everything is predictable and prescribed...
Tarima's father is displeased with her interactions with the local young people. So she switches her attention on the older people, like the chancellor of the War College. His behavior seems to her both wary and amusing. Some people here try to appear friendly (which doesn't always match their emotional state), while others are restrained. Chancellor Kelrec looks frankly displeased, as if he wants to be here even less than President Sadal. It's likely that the United Earth Defense Force, which he represents, would also appreciate being sealed off from the rest of space with an impenetrable barrier.
Tarima seizes the moment when Kelrec is alone by the panoramic window and approaches him from behind (let's be honest, she sneaks up on him). She can't sense his emotional background well, as if it's muted and erased. But when she's two steps away, he turns to face her with an expectantly polite (yet displeased!) expression, as if he himself is capable of empathically sensing another's presence.
Although, apparently, he simply caught the reflection of her movement in the windowpane.
'Chancellor Kelrec? May I talk to you?'
'It's an honor,' the man bows his head politely. Tarima steps to his side and barely suppresses a chuckle. The chancellor has a neurotransmitter on his neck.
'Do you use a transmitter to hide your emotions?' she asks bluntly, and seeing the man's confusion, she adds defiantly, 'Why bother? It's all written all over your face.'
The Chancellor lifts his chin and replies dryly,
'Miss Sadal, your clothes don't hide much, but you won't go out in public without them.'
'Touché!' Tarima laughs heartily. Embarrassing people is so much fun that she can hardly resist. But even more fun is meeting someone who is capable to parry quick and accurate.
Kelrec suddenly smiles, a little awkwardly, but sincerely.
'I can't imagine how deeply you meet other people's feelings,' he confessed. 'But I wouldn't want to offend you or your people with a casual... emotion. These negotiations are very important.'
'No matter, I don't decide anything,' Tarima said sadly.
Kelrec looks at her with sympathy in his eyes. It doesn't take any special Betazed empathy to understand this, so eventually he simply raises his hand and turns off the transmitter.
Tarima gasps softly, retreating as a wave of alien emotions crashes over her.
Doubt. Anxiety. Longing and regret.
He thinks of the victims, of the losses—past and future.
Fear. Not for himself.
But pride also resonates strongly. For himself. For his work.
Confidence.
A subtle note of admiration echoes his mind. He admires Tarima's beauty as if it were an exotic flower.
Something weaves between emotions and sensations. A sharp, disturbing discomfort, as if he's missing something he can hold in his hands, feel its texture and temperature, eat or drink, distracting himself from unpleasant stimuli.
'Do you suffer from sensory overload?' Tarima asks cautiously.
'I'm not suffering, Miss Sadal,' the Human answers calmly, though his emotions explode with mild panic at the revelation. 'But I'm not enjoying it either.'
Tarima reflects on how Chancellor Kelrec doesn't control his emotions the way the Kolinahr adepts do. But his emotions don't control him either. He simply lives with them. It's delightful.
It's ... it's what she needs.
'What are the requirements for admission to the War College?' Tarima asks, unconcerned about the logical transition.
Kelrec raises his eyebrows in confusion, but answers without surprise in his voice:
'To pass the exams, Miss Sadal.'
'I want to study here,' Tarima clarifies. 'Apparently not this year, but I'll persuade my father. If... you don't mind.'
'Why should I mind?' the chancellor asks carefully, so the question could be taken as a polite form of consent.
But that's not the case, and Tarima hesitates.
'I don't control my empathic gift,' she finally admits. 'It could be dangerous.'
Kelrec nods slowly.
'Danger is our job, Miss Sadal. Welcome.'