How to Break the Prime Directive (and get away with it)

Part 5: Coherent Thought Causes Problems

Sabian could feel Ylmaq's attention focus on him more closely, a beam of heat and angry light.

“Of course my emotions are being broadcast,” she said, “I am angry with you. That much should be obvious to anyone, not just moronic telepaths.”

“No, Ylmaq,” Grax's voice was pleading, “You're not just broadcasting emotions. You're broadcasting thoughts. Full thoughts. Coherent ones.”

Ylmaq's expression did not change, but the tenor of her emotions did. For an instant, her thoughts went icy cold. Grax could feel her sudden dread, his guts roiling around a lump of pure ice. An uncomfortable prickling flushed across his back and down his arms, and Sabian could not say if that feeling was his own or Ylmaq's. Almost as suddenly as it appeared, the ice was gone, supplanted by embarrassment in the form of a suffocating wave of heat.

“It's okay, Ylmaq,” Sabian said weakly. He hastily tried to reinforce his barriers. “You've just got to try to be more . . . quiet.”

“It is impossible!” Ylmaq protested, but Grax felt her thoughts drop in volume. “Besides,” Ylmaq sounded defensive, “you are the only Betazoid on the bridge.”

“But not the only Betazoid on the ship. And there are other telepathic races.”

“Suvok's telepathic, and he can't hear thoughts in the same way you do. He had to touch you, earlier.”

“So what? What if you somehow made physical contact? Like, say, you bumped into him? Or, more importantly, another Vulcan?”

“I have bumped into Suvok before, and he never noticed anything I was thinking. Even if he did, there are no Vulcans on the bridge in gamma shift, so it would not be a problem.” 

“What about Lieutenant Commander Tokal? He's a quarter Romulan.”

“Right. He's not a Vulcan. He's one quarter Romulan and three quarters human. And,” Ylmaq paused for effect, “Romulans are not telepathic.”

“You sure?” Grax asked. “Vulcans and Romulans are pretty similar. Suvok always insists they're different, but I can't tell Romulans and Vulcans apart, except for the haircuts. Well, the haircuts, and the constant references to logic.”

Ylmaq sighed, then. Her face didn't change, but it was obvious to Sabian that she had somehow managed to find his joke amusing. Her emotions towards him now felt like wading into a warm pool of water. Grax was forgiven, perhaps not completely, but enough to allow Ylmaq to appreciate his point.

“So how do I avoid broadcasting everything like that?” Ylmaq asked, her voice small for a Klingon.

“I don't have time to teach you advanced techniques. But normally, you're pretty quiet, at least from my perspective.”

“So I should do what, exactly?“

“Try to keep your thoughts normal. Definitely don't try to use them to communicate. And, if possible, don't think about it. Don't think about me. Don't think about our guest. Try to focus on the thoughts you'd think normally under these circumstances.”

“That is," she paused, searching for the words. "Extremely difficult, Sabian.”

“I know,” Grax smiled encouragingly. “but now that you're not so mad at me, it should be easier.”

Ylmaq rolled her eyes, but then she smiled. It was a Klingon smile, all sharp teeth and fierce cheekbones, but Grax could tell that it was a sincere smile. More importantly, Ylmaq had calmed down. Sabian couldn't hear her thoughts, not without deliberately trying.

As the turbolift doors slid open, Grax said, “You're quiet. Stay that way, and we'll be fine.”

The sliding doors revealed Lieutenant Commander Tokal, standing dead centre on the bridge, right in front of the captain's chair. As the ensigns entered, Tokal turned. He glared at both of them.