Here I post articles from my Star Trek Fanzine: Sehlat's Roar. I hope to place all of the work online for fan's enjoyment. This Fanzine was first published in the late 1970's by a band of most unlikely friends located in Flat Rock, in the southeastern quadrant of Michigan. The material is clearly born of the time, and some of it is quite dated; yet, for those who enjoy this sort of thing, I trust, at the least, interesting.

Friday, June 16, 2006

Chapter ONE, part five

A few minutes later found Branfield and T'Alyen walking in the night-shrouded garden that took a third of the same deck. For a long time there was silence before the commander said softly, “It's been awhile, T'Alyen.”

“It has, Jeremy,” agreed the woman non-committally.

Branfield glanced at her with shrouded eyes, then, his shoulders executing the faintest hint of a shrug, he asked, “Tell me, briefly, what DID happen in there?” He indicated the rec center with a nod of his unruly mop.

“Essentially, Ms. Mrrim remarked that the Tellarites smelled like carrion. However, when I inquired of her the reason for such a remark, she indicated that it was intended as a compliment. Apparently Ms. Anderson misinterpreted this and proceeded to enlighten Mrrim as to her own beliefs that Tellarites, because they resemble Terran swine, were only good for food. At this point, Shirley attempted to avoid further unfortunate remarks by introducing me to Mrrim and warning Ms. Anderson. She was rebuffed. In any case, it was too late, as Ms. Greva arrived at that moment and -- shoved a pie into Mrrim's face, then poured the contents of a punchbowl over Ms. Anderson. Shirley was injured in her attempt to intervene. . . Jeremy, I do not comprehend what motivates these people. Do they truly enjoy such violent emotion?” asked the Vulcan, pausing in her walk to look up into the human's shadowed face.

The commander didn't reply immediately, but only rubbed his bushy moustache for a moment. “I don't know for sure, T'Alyen. . . I don't think they enjoy it, if by that you mean being in Joy, but there does seem to be a certain -- uhm -- exhilaration inherent in the violent release of emotional tension.”

“This is insanity,” stated the Vulcan flatly.

“I couldn't agree more,” replied Branfield. “But they probably don't know any other way. They weren't raised under Vulcan discipline, so it's to be expected their control would -- leave something to be desired.”

T'Alyen considered this in silence for several long minutes before murmuring, “There is sense in what you say. . . I would return to my quarters.”

Branfield acquiesced with a nod and escorted her out.


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