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Vulcan’s protect their privacy fiercely, and Jim knew he had no business snooping.  But the thin volume on Spock’s shelf was irresistible.  He guiltily leafed through it while waiting for Spock to finish up in the lab – and then was shocked and delighted to find neatly folded in the back, what looked to be a handwritten attempt at a translation to Terran English.

The Evasive Enemy


T’hyla, my beloved, my alternate soul

Warrior that you are

You would wish me to battle my sorrow for your departure/absence

Instead, my heart/husband/brother, I cling to my pain

To my regret

To my memories

They are all I have of you and so they are precious to me


My perversion is complete

I enjoy the cutting pain and replay them


In the empty battlefield of my mind/soul/heart

Only the dead lie here.


The place in me where you once dwelled,

Is empty/desolate

Life is long, too long, beloved without you

The walls that held you are poised to crumble inward

Desirous of filling the void with rubble

So desirous


Once I did not hold you in my mind/soul/heart

And still I had purpose

I thought then that I had purpose


Now I wonder

What is purpose?

Filling time, filling space, filling thoughts

But it is a void that is never filled

How is that purpose?


If you were here,

You would chide me

Only the body is lost – the mind/soul/heart is preserved

Held in Mount Seleya

But - my body aches for yours

It should be of no importance



An enemy that evades battle

I await the ending time


Jim gently replaced the volume on the shelf.  He could not regret having read it, no … he could not regret it.  But he also wondered … who was Spock translating it for?

His mother?  A lover?  Someone on the ship?  Whoever it was, would be receiving something priceless … something precious.

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