Caimlyn had never considered that a human could experience horrors similar to those his own people had, particularly one who had grown up in the environs of the Federation. He felt bad that he had made her bring up those sad memories. "It sounds like St. Petersburg is a beautiful place."
She granted him a smile, a real one, putting the nightmares of her past behind her. IT was a skill she had learned long ago. Without it, she would have gone mad. "I will show you the beauty of the Russian culture. Have you ever tried vodka, Caimlyn Shainenevich?"
(resp?)
Her smile grew slightly predatory. "You will love it. I know many wonderful vodka drinks." Russians, all Russians, not just assassins, took a sick pleasure in introducing non-Russians to the 'joys' of vodka. She wondered if he'd ever had real alcohol. "Now," she said, changing subjects. "What brings the brother of an ambassador into the Federation? Your family must have power and wealth. Why are you an ensign in Starfleet?"
(resp?)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"He who is certain he knows the ending of things when he is
only beginning them is either extremely wise or extremely foolish;
no matter which is true, he is certainly an unhappy man, for he
has put a knife in the heart of wonder."
--Qanuc proverb, "The Dragonbone Chair" by Tad Williams
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