[ Oh. That was what Spock meant by the mental transference, wasn't it? He hadn't expected it to be so vivid. Or for it to draw out a memory of his own in return. He'd been alone in a room of a dusty, ancient home, steadfastly memorizing the complete works volume he'd been given, complete with falsetto vocalizations of the female parts. Richard III had held particular meaning for him, centering as it did on the deformed figure at the heart of it--
no subject
Miles jolts back with a gasp. ]
Ah - ah. That was ... very different.