Consequences-Part 25

Consequences

By Samantha Quinn

All disclaimers in part 1

Part 25

Reflectionss

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Additional Spoilers: T’Pol’s reflecting big time in this one. There are references to multiple eps. Most are vague, however. “Breaking the Ice” has mondo references.
A/N: I’m somewhat frightened because I actually like this chapter! That’s rarely happened. Something’s wrong somewhere! A couple of quick notes to help you out: If you are a Star Trek newbie, Kaiidth is from the Original Series and translates to “What is, is.” The particular spelling is one of multiple choices, so I went with it. Thirdly, this is an introspection chapter, mainly. Which means it may drag in parts (although I hope not!), but I couldn’t see cutting anything as T’Pol is on a journey to a major realization here.

On with the Show. . . .

*****

Meditation was becoming difficult.

Unfortunately, that was not the only further complication in T’Pol’s illness. She noted with uncharacteristic concern that the headache she had grown to associate with Commander Tucker’s emotions-or, more accurately, her own responses to his emotions-only dimmed during meditation and for a brief period immediately following the procedure. She supposed that it would not be long before meditation would cease to be an effective counter-agent against the head pain.

But for now, it still served efficiently when meditation could in fact be achieved. T’Pol greatly desired relief as she had been in a state of constant pain since her last successful meditation six hours ago.

*Six point five,* corrected a small voice inside her head. As her condition increased, she became increasingly less precise in her calculations. It had become glaringly apparent on the bridge hours-two. . . two point four. . . two point three?-ago when T’Pol had given the calculation for arriving back at Vulcan. Approximately thirty-seven hours, she had stated. Her companions had looked at her with some surprise. Captain Skon had the grace to only nod his head and issue a thank you, but T’Pol knew they were surprised at her lack of preciseness. For a Vulcan who had served as a science officer, such lapses were unseemly. For the first time in the twelve point eight hours since they had left Enterprise, T’Pol felt a momentary sense of relief for having done so. Having such lapses on that ship, as second in command, could have caused any number of unfortunate casualties. Here, aboard the small passenger ship T’Lar, T’Pol could retreat safely back to her quarters. No one would be injured due to her carelessness.

The scientist in T’Pol had postulated that the increased symptoms most likely were related to the increased swelling of her brain tissue. Logically, as one portion of her brain swelled, it would affect the other segments of the same organ: thus explaining the lack of concentration, trouble with numerical units, and sleeplessness that had increased in recent hours.

*At this rate, I shall be not be far from death by the time we arrive at Vulcan,* T’Pol surmised to herself. *In thirty-five hours. . . no. Thirty-five point two hours from now. * The journey from the Enterprise back to Vulcan at their current speed would take exactly two earth days.
Inwardly, T’Pol wondered when how long she had been referring to events in such Terran terms. More disquieting than the presence of her references was the ease with which they came.

Closing her eyes yet again, T’Pol took a deep breath that could easily have been mistaken as a sigh. *My humans would have been quite delighted to have heard such a slip, * she noted, wondering when they had become her humans exactly. Had it been as early as when she had chosen to tell Archer of the Rigellians? Perhaps after she had first defied her parents and her future in-laws by choosing the Enterprise over returning to Vulcan. Or perhaps the incident at P’Jem. Still yet, it may have been the moment she realized there was some truth to Archer’s gazelle speech and verbally defended him.

Perhaps it had been when she had begun to embrace their habits such as movie night or their food such as p. . . *No, it is best not to think of that. *
*Why are their habits associated so readily with him?* T’Pol wondered. She did acknowledge however, that of all her humans, he would have been the most delighted to have heard her sigh. He had always taken an obscene delight in provoking human-like emotions from her.

Time had changed her, indeed. Two years ago, she would not have admitted to the ability to have human emotions. Her time on the Enterprise had changed that. Her time with Commander Tucker and his infuriating, illogical, irrational, and ill-mannered attributes had played a large role in that.
*Kaiidth,* she scolded herself. *My time on the Enterprise is over. I shall return to Vulcan now. *

Once there, she would undergo the proper ceremonials-among them the Reflection ceremony. The Reflection Ceremony, deemed the most essential to any Vulcan with advance knowledge of impending and unpreventable death, was a time in which the said Vulcan would meditate, possibly for the last time. While in this meditation state, one would be surrounded by several material items from which they associated memories of importance. These items were usually scholarly works written by the dying Vulcan or other mementos demonstrating personal achievement in life. There they would contemplate their life’s work and their accomplishments.

Personally, T’Pol found the whole situation lacking in logic. But as was often the case with her people, tradition and logic came to conflict. And tradition prevailed. ” This whole thing sounds illogica,” came the southerner’s voice in her head. It was followed with another memory of the man from an earlier time frame, “proving again just how consistent you Vulcans can be. ”

Opening her eyes, T’Pol realized that with the difficulty in achieving meditation that she was currently experiencing, it was highly likely that she would be unable to achieve meditation at all by the time they arrived back to Vulcan. *I must conduct the ceremony of Reflection now. Otherwise, it shall be unattainable,* she decided.

Her decision made, T’Pol rose and went for the two small pieces of luggage she had brought from Enterprise. Her personal mementos were small in quantity but spoke volumes about their owner in quality. She retrieved only three items. The first was the left over candle stub given to her by her parents as a child. The second the medallion given upon completion of the Kohlinar. Third and last was a photograph taken of the Enterprise crew during shore leave. Gathering the items in her arms, T’Pol brought them back to her mediation area and displayed them in a circle. The door chimed at that moment, halting her ceremony. “Enter,” she called, restraining growing agitation. She looked increasingly forward to arriving on Vulcan. There, she would be allowed to die in peace.

She was not overly surprised to see the figure of Captain Skon. “Greetings, Captain. What brings you here?” asked T’Pol.

Before answering, Skon took in arrangement of items positioned around T’Pol. “You are beginning the Reflection Ceremony?” he asked.

“Yes. I find it increasingly difficult to mediate. Doing so may become impossible by the time we reach Vulcan.”

Skon nodded his head. “Most logical,” he agreed.

The unexpected Vulcan compliment warmed T’Pol more than she had expected possible. While the humans tried to compliment her to the best of their ability, they often ended up praising emotional attributes that T’Pol could not have felt appreciation for achieving. Crewman Cutler for example had praised her hair styling. Vanity is immaterial to Vulcans; therefore, the compliment was ineffective. Archer would occasionally attempt to praise her job performance. His attempts were somewhat misplaced as well. It was only logical that she would do her job to the best of her ability. Receiving praise for doing so made little sense.

Skon’s compliment, however, quietly acknowledged that she was, for all her time spent with humans, still a true Vulcan. Indeed, an honorable representative of their race, regardless of what the Vulcan High Command, the Vulcan Medical Community, or Soval may have believed. T’Pol fought down the emotions within her as she murmured, “I am honored.”

Skon eyed her for a moment. It was not a judgmental stare, but rather, one of concern. “It is customary on Vulcan to explain the reasoning for your selections prior to the Reflection Ceremony.”

“My family is unavailable,” T’Pol responded.

“True. However, I am not,” Skon replied simply.

“The ship requires her Captain.”

“Constable Sumarek is capable of temporary command.”

“You are not obligated.”

“Nor are you,” Skon supplied, giving her an out to send him away if she did not desire him to play a role in the ceremony. He would not force her to accept his offer. The choice was hers. T’Pol gestured for him to sit down.

He sat cross-legged across from her. He folded his hands in front of him and prepared to wait. The speaker was not to be interrupted during the Reflection Ceremony.

Picking up the candle stub first, she reflected that in its current shade of light yellow, few would believe it had once been a deep green. *Sentient beings are no less affected by the passage of time than inanimate objects, * she noted to herself. After turning the object over in her hand one last time, T’Pol held the object at mid chest level and began to speak:

“The first token of reflection is the remaining piece of my first meditation candle, given to me by my parents when I reached the age of six. With this candle, I rose to the top of meditation class. Its contains professional significance because the introductory meditation class is where I first obtained the basic tenets of logic that have continued to guide my scientific inquiry to this day. It holds personal significance because it represents a time in which my parents and I were in complete agreement concerning my career choices.” T’Pol allowed a slight quirk of the eyebrow-the Vulcan equivalent of a smirk as she added, “Such incidences have become rare.”

Skon could only be thankful he was not permitted to speak during the ceremony.
Moving on to the Kohlinar medal, T’Pol reminisced: “The second token of reflection is the medallion I received upon completing the Kohlinar. It holds professional significance because it symbolized a turning point in my career back towards diplomacy. This change in direction was crucial in being assigned to the Vulcan High Command. It holds personal significance because it represents my own efforts to atone for actions I believed to be unfitting for a Vulcan.”
Skon, having been present for those actions, and in some ways responsible, was again thankful he was not permitted to speak.

T’Pol hesitated before picking up the third article. The hesitation was brief, but noticeable. This time, T’Pol was thankful Skon was not permitted to speak. Holding the photograph in her hand, she began to speak: “The third token of reflection is a photograph taken by Commander Charles Tucker III during shore leave. It holds professional significance because I have served upon the Enterprise for the past two years.” She placed the photograph down, symbolizing completion of the ceremony.

Skon was permitted to speak. “You did not mention the personal significance behind the photograph.”

“There are many. All of which are illogical. I thought to spare you of potentially illness induced irrationalities,” T’Pol responded.

“Indeed? While I appreciate the effort, you realize as well as I do that logic and reason has little to do with this ceremony, T’Pol.”

“It is inconceivable that our people have kept it.”

“It is tradition, T’Pol. Do not spare me the irrationalities. If I was not aware of your illness, we would not be having this conversation.”

Unable to dispute the logic inherent in the argument, T’Pol began hesitantly. “The personal significance of Captain Archer in this photograph can be seen in his relationship with the canine he is holding. While the smell of the animal is decidedly unpleasant, I came to an understanding of the human capability to dedicate themselves fully to a single object. At first I found this to be an example of human irrationalism, however, I have come to understand it as a human strength.” T’Pol did not elaborate further. At Skon’s nod of understanding, she continued.

“The personal significance of Lieutenant Reed and Ensign Sato was a deeper understanding of human intimacies. The two are vastly different from one another. He is brave, silent, and meticulous; she is easily frightened, social, and emotional. Yet the two are inexplicable attracted to one another. It has been a valuable lesson in human notions of romance.”

“The personal significance of Ensign Mayweather was his relationship with his family. Upon the death of his father, Ensign Mayweather was willing to abandon his career for the sake of his family’s welfare.”

“Combined, Ensign Mayweather, Ensign Sato, Lieutenant Reed, and Captain Archer have all demonstrated differing degrees and expressions of the human concepts of love. Why it is unarguably an illogical human emotion . . . I have come to understand the reason humans value it as much as they do after observing them.”

Skon understood what such a concession must have cost her. He also realized that such a conversation would not have taken place anywhere outside of the Reflection Ceremony. T’Pol was ready to die. Out of respect for her condition, he hid his surprise at her revelation.

“And what of Commander Tucker?” he asked as she sat the photograph down. “What was his personal contribution?”

“He is not in the photograph,” she replied.

“It would have been difficult for him to do so while simultaneously taking the picture, given the crude nature of human photography with which this photograph was apparently taken. Still, his presence was felt, was it not?”

A considerable silence passed before T’Pol allowed herself to answer. “When I first met Commander Tucker I determined him to be unprofessional, unreasonable, illogical, ill-mannered and unfit to serve aboard a starship. Overtime, I have discovered . . . he has found ways to challenge my preconceptions of not only him but humanity as well.”

Skon did not bother to hide his surprise this time. Regaining his composure, he remarked, “You have grown affectionate for them.”

T’Pol replied with an answer of her own. “Do you believe loyalty to be an emotion?” she asked. Commander Tucker had once sarcastically insinuated that she believed so. At the time, part of her had agreed. Now, however, she was unsure.

“Without loyalty, neither starships nor marriages would thrive. If loyalty is an emotion, it is one of the few useful ones.”

T’Pol shook her head, unwilling to concede to such a possibility. “Such reasoning is dangerous. If Vulcans begin to allow emotions to seep into our culture, what then becomes of logic?”

Skon inclined his head as he answered, “It then becomes a counterbalance to the emotions.”

T’Pol could say nothing else. Thankfully, she did not have to, as Skon continued for her. “I have come to announce that T’Pau recently received an encrypted message from Vulcan. It appears Sopel’s parents are looking for a marital partner.”

“I take it he is one of the ‘respected’ Vulcans you spoke of before?” T’Pol asked.
“Yes. Perhaps you have heard of him? He is an Anthropologist serving on the Vulcan outpost between Vulcan and Andoria. Not only is he a Melder, but he is afflicted with Pa’Nar Syndrome as well, for which he is being treated.”

“I have explained that I do not wish to bond with a stranger and share such an intimate bond.”

“I realize your reluctance and I respect it. However, you may wish to reconsider for this reason: Sopel’s lifestyle will afford you the ability to return to your ship, where I believe you wish to be.”

“His lifestyle?” T’Pol questioned.

“He is involved with a young Andorian female. His parents desire to marry him off to a prominent, decent Vulcan female in hopes of remaining respectable. It would not do for their son to be linked with a species with whom we only so recently nearly went to war. As he is currently un-married and in such close proximity to females of all species, his behavior is scrutinized much more closely than it would be if he were married.” Skon replied.

“Logical,” T’Pol responded. Inwardly, she recalled the horror Commander Tucker had felt when he had learned about Vulcan marriages. She was beginning to experience similar sensations. “It is believed we will develop an affection for one another,” she had told him. Such a result would be unlikely in the marriage between her and Prince Sopel.

“Their logic is flawless. While you would be free to return to Enterprise, you would still be bonded. Such a bond could not be broken without arising suspicions,” Skon warned.

“But I would have my life and my career back,” she finished for him.

Skon nodded. “Be advised that he shall most likely continue to be involved with the Andorian female.”

“I shall serve as his cover so that he may continue to do so?” T’Pol surmised.

“Yes.”

Not an ideal situation by any means. But it was logical. Logic had dictated the reason for Vulcan marriages for thousands of years. She had no reason to believe she should be an exception. “I am agreeable to that course of action,” she informed Skon.

“You are certain?”

“Yes.”

Skon rose. T’Pol rose as well, out of respect. “Since Soval is unable to speak for you in the matter, I will see to the arrangements.”

“I will appreciate that.”

Skon somehow thought that perhaps Soval himself would disagree. “He has requested permission to dine with you this evening. Is that acceptable or do you need more time to meditate?”

“I thought he was being held in confinement,” T’Pol remarked.

“He was. However, I am willing to let him come and dine with you in your quarters as long as Sumarek escorts him in both directions,” Skon supplied.
“I will see him,” T’Pol agreed.

“I do not envy your position in telling him about the impending wedding,” Skon remarked.

“It shall be . . . difficult,” T’Pol admitted.

****

Please Review!
Yeah, the muse has come back from being MIA. The next chappy’s about halfway done too, so the next update should be pretty soon. Darn muse. Leaves for a month, then won’t leave me alone.

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Two folks have made comments

Oh no, I don't like the sound of Soval dining with T'Pol. Don't let your defences down now T'Pol, not when things are finally looking up a little bit! Can't wait for the next part! This is a great story. Ali D :~)

Brilliant! Wonderful! I love it! It's great! I feel like I'm going to break the exclamation point key! This is really good, more please.