As the two slaves quickly obeyed the command, Thea turned once again to Sarela. "Despite the Warrior's rumors," she explained, "my personal attendants are not mistreated." She smiled knowingly. "Some even … enjoy their duties," she added, her hand going absently to the long hair of one of the men as he sat on the floor by her chair. She petted him as one might stroke a kitten, fingers entwining gently in the sleek, black hair which tapered halfway down his back. With a nod of her head, she motioned the other slave to sit at Sarela's side, amused when she noted a flicker of embarrassment creep into the woman's eyes. "You needn't worry," she assured Sarela, "for as we have already agreed, nothing which transpires in this room becomes public knowledge. And, as you are no doubt beginning to discover, rumors are often only lies. Do not concern yourself with Tazol."

Not knowing what in all the worlds of Romulus to say or do, Sarela remained silent, not looking at the handsome slave who had been addressed as Sekor and now sat by her chair, resting his head on the arm. She chose a professional approach, mentally kicking herself for her obvious interest in the man's beauty a few moments before. "At any rate," she began, "we cannot be certain what will await us when we attack the Alliance, my Lady. Despite their reduced numbers, their starships are still more powerful than ours—and now carry a large complement of Vulcans."

Thea's brows climbed high on her forehead. "There is so much to consider, Sarela," she murmured, her tone somewhat weary. "But I assure you I have no intentions of attacking the Alliance." She paused, then reached across the desk, retrieving a stack of papers and computer tapes which she handed to Sarela. "The time-operatives were my father's idea," she explained. "But he died two seasons ago—long before their mission ever began." She glanced at the documents, leaning forward until they could easily share the same page. "But despite the Praetor's many powers, not even he—or she—can make decisions single-handedly which will affect the entire Empire. If no one else had known of the time-scheme when I became Praetor, I would have abandoned it without hesitation. However, too many of the Warriors had learned of it, and they would not have considered it 'dignified' to dismiss a scheme which would—theoretically—bring so much power to them." She paused, eyes growing momentarily distant. "We have failed with time alteration too many times in the past. However, now that it is done again, we must find a way to use it to our advantage."

Sarela looked blankly at the other woman. "I do not understand, my Lady," she replied. The documents which Thea had produced seemed to be nothing more than handwritten lines, some of which were in a dialect meaningless to her.

"There comes a time when even an entire race must change," Thea explained. "But our people have always been a Warrior people, and no effort has been made to alter that sad truth. The papers you now hold in your hands are taken from the Vulcan Tenets of Discipline, handed down from the time of Surak in their Ancient Days." She paused, black eyes searching Sarela's face as she leaned back in her own chair.

Sarela's eyes widened. "I have heard of them, but I did not know they truly existed," she murmured. "It was said to be only another legend."

Thea smiled wistfully. "A legend only because my father's father did not permit these documents to be viewed by anyone, including his closest advisers." She paused for a moment. "You see, Sarela, even in First History, the Romulans and the Vulcans were not unknown to one another. Legend has it that we are, in fact, quite closely related. According to my father's notes, which I discovered upon his death, these Tenets of Discipline were stolen from the Vulcans during the time of Surak himself—by an early band of our spacefaring ancestors." She shrugged. "Thousands of seasons ago," she conceded, "yet the explanation seems to be a logical one. And, at any rate, as Second History has rendered our own past—we cannow change. The alterations in the Empire itself are minor—mostly centering in the past—a past which stemmed from battle with the Vulcans a hundred seasons ago. We were defeated—forced to accept that defeat. And as a result, we were compelled to accept aid from the Vulcans for a short period of time. My advisers have studied Second History carefully, and I have been informed that our people now—in this displaced timeline—are decidedly more complacent than ever before. In essence, they are susceptible to change, Sarela—the people, like you and I, grow weary of war and poverty."

Sarela studied the other woman carefully. "But canwe change?" she wondered intently. "Even the fragments of tapes I viewed on the bridge showed our Second History to be no less violent than First," she added. "And I do not understand what these words on parchment can possibly do to alter an entire civilization."

Thea tilted her head, slumping down in the chair to place her feet on the desk. "The Tenets of Discipline are blasphemous to the way of the Warriors," she said calmly, "but nonetheless valid if we wish to survive. Surak was apparently born 'out of time' in both Histories. He saw beyond the need for battle, just as you and I see beyond that desire for fleeting glory. At first, even hecould not understand what he was doing. Eventually, however, his people began to listen to his views—but only when it became obvious that they had no other alternative. It was a choice between peace among themselves or eventual annihilation as a race."

Sarela nodded quietly to herself. "The Vulcans were once a violent race," she recalled. "As much or more so than we are ourselves."

"But they listened to reason, Sarela," Thea repeated. "Just as our people must learn to do."

For a moment, Sarela found herself wondering if it was possible. She remembered a time in the past when the Warriors had even revolted against the Praetor—a time when there had been no wars in the Empire for twenty seasons, and the bloodlust had flared once again in men such as Tazol. And she recognized that a Warrior without war or hope of war was a dangerous creature. "Our Empire is large, my Lady," she pointed out cautiously. "And even the word of the Praetor is sometimes questioned. Your armies at the palace will stand by your side. But if the Fleet and the Warriors oppose you …" Her voice trailed off.

"The time will come," Thea replied evasively, "when not even the Fleet can stand against us, Sarela." She paused, looking absently at the slave at her feet. "When that time arrives, I may see fit to give the Empire an heir to the title I now hold … but not until then." With a heavy sigh, her eyes closed. "Our children are taught the sword before they are taught to read or write. I will not bring a son into the Empire only to see him die a fool."

Sarela listened to the morose words in silence. "Then your reasons for permitting the time operatives to complete their mission are … personal?" she stated as a question. "You hoped to be able to alter the Empire's historical structure sufficiently to allow peace among our people, peace with the Alliance?"

Thea nodded, then held her hands up in a gesture of frustration. "But we must first forcethe Alliance to hear us, just as we must compel our own people to listen to the words which saved the Vulcans from themselves." She paused. "It will not be easy, for men such as Tazol and the Warriors do not wish to see these changes." She sighed. "As Praetor, they will hear my words … but as a woman who must maintain anonymity, they will be inclined to dismiss them." She smiled wistfully. "As you pointed out, Sarela, even the Praetor's word is sometimes questioned; and from your own experience, you have learned that the Warriors are often given precedence over the builders of our society."