Pillar

Pillar

By Samantha Quinn

Rating: PG-13, Angst, Romance

Disclaimer: If I owned the Star Trek Universe, Capt. Kirk would still be alive, 7 of 9 would be dead, and T’Pol would wear appropriate Vulcan dress instead of a painted on catsuit. No profits=no reason to sue. Thanks to pookha_hare for drawing my attention to a continuity mistake. Should be all fixed.

SPOILERS: Possibly for “Shockwave I and II,” “Fusion,” and “Breaking the Ice.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is my first attempt at Enterprise fan fiction. Any type of Star Trek fiction, actually. In addition, although I've seen every episode of TOS, TNG, DS9 and VOY, I have only seen about three full episodes of Enterprise because the lovely city I live in does not have UPN. The episodes I did see gave quite the background for all the shippage I've read on FF.net. However, after reading one too many "and they lived happily ever after." I decided to give my own a whirl. Below is the result. As this is my first, and I have no beta, I would appreciate any constructive criticisms. To Hoshi lovers-this is entirely from T'Pol's point of view! I like Hoshi! Honest. And if T'Pol seems out of character.well, I never bought the "Vulcans don't have emotions" crap. Just watch TOS- we KNOW Spock and his dad have emotions-why else don't they speak for 18+ years? Oh, and one final warning-if you like every cloud with a silver lining, you probably don't want to read the story. It's pretty angsty.

Chapter 1

T’Pol Laments

*****************

He loves her.

I should not care. I am a Vulcan and Vulcans do not feel love.

No, that is a lie. It is illogical to lie to myself. I know that Vulcans do, in fact, feel love. They simply try to control it. As we do with all emotions.

Including hate. Unfortunately, I am feeling a deep course of hatred for her cruising through my veins.

I shift uselessly in my place on the floor, where I have been trying unsuccessfully to meditate for the past three point two hours. The six point eight times I have allowed myself to get close to reaching a total emotionless state, his face forces itself into my perspective.

Commander.Tucker. Trip.

I reflect that I have never allowed myself to call him that-'Trip.' He has asked me to on several occasions. "Really, T'Pol, we're friends. Why'd you insist on callin' me Commander, even when we're off duty?" He had even pleaded, once. "Please call me 'Trip.' "

I had not.

I feel yet another human emotion course through my body. It is stronger than both the love and the hate. While the previous emotions caused only mental anguish, this one hurts my mind and body. Pain grips the inside of my chest, fleetingly.

Humans call it regret.

Three human emotions in the course of three point four hours. If the Commander were here- If Trip were here, he would surely find the situation ironic. Perhaps even enjoyable.

I shift again. That is irrational. Commander Tucker is my friend. He has said so. A friend would not derive pleasure from another friend's discomfort.
Perhaps he is not truly my friend. Although I cannot comprehend why the Commander would call me a friend, if he truly does not mean it, it is a possibility. Human friendship is a difficult concept to understand. Vulcans do not have friends. We have acquaintances and professional colleagues. Not friends. To be a friend implies emotion. At least that is my hypothesis based upon the information Commander Tucker had given me. Against my will, the memories of a prior conversation come back to me.

***

“I’m glad you’re stayin’ on the Enterprise, T’Pol.”

“Indeed?”

“Well, sure. I mean, you’re my friend, after all.”

“Friendship is a difficult human emotion to grasp. Vulcans do not have friendships.”

“Ya don’t?”

“No. All Vulcan acquaintances are logical. We form relationships based on mutual needs and benefits.”

“Sounds pretty borin.’, T’Pol.”

“What then are the basis of these human friendships?”

“Well, a friend is someone you talk to, you’re comfortable with. Ya enjoy spendin’ time with ‘em. They’re kinda like pillars on an old house- ya got pillars on Vulcan?”

“No. However, I am familiar with that particular type of Earth architecture.”

“Well, friends are like that. Sometimes, they hold you up, and sometimes they lean on ya.”

“The friendship concept sounds very emotional.”

“Indeed it is, T’Pol. Indeed it is.”

For the third time this evening, I re-arrange my body position. The conversation had provoked an emotional response from me at the time. I had attributed it, mistakenly, to the postponement of my engagement.

I realize now that it was Commander Tucker who stirred those emotions.
Again, an unwanted memory forces its way into my thoughts. On this occurrence, it is a memory of a conversation with Ensign Hoshi Sato. It took place shortly after the Ensign received a rejection from her advances towards Lieutenant Malcom Reed. She had been in the Mess Hall, and her obvious disappointment was easy to detect. Most human emotions are to Vulcans. We work so diligently at suppressing them that it is easier for us to pick them up when others are not suppressing them. My scientific curiosity took control of me and allowed Ensign Sato to express her discontent.

“He told me that I was behaving inappropriately,” she had expressed, bitterly.
I only raised my eyebrow in response which elicited a sigh from Ensign Sato. “Take my advice, Sub-Commander. Stay away from human men. They’re all bastards.”

I clasp my hands together and shake my head, trying in vain to force out the image I have of them together. Ensign Sato. Commander Tucker.

My Commander Tucker.

Despite Ensign Sato’s words, she apparently does not find all men to be ‘bastards.’ Only four months ago did the Ensign approach Lieutenant Reed. Today, Captain Archer asked for my opinion on how to deal with fraternization.

“Sexual relationships among the crew are quite logical, Captain,” I had told him.

“What do you mean? You yourself have pointed out that sex among crew members is against regulations. More than once.”

“On both occasions, I was simply stating the known Starfleet protocol. It is a protocol that is flawed in its logic. Members of the opposite sex of many species mate after having spent time together. To expect a species-especially one as emotional as humans to go a prolonged period without mating even while in the company of a potential mate, is ridiculous and illogical.”

“I suppose you’re right. I guess what Hoshi and Trip are doing is perfectly normal.”

For the fourth time, I re-position my body weight and squeeze my hands even tighter together. A feeling of slight satisfaction comes over me as I feel a small amount of blood trickle from my palm.

“What Hoshi and Trip are doing is perfectly normal.”

Logically, yes. I have said so myself. Still, only four months ago, Ensign Sato was bemoaning Lieutenant Reed. We have a word on Vulcan to describe such fickle women.

I have not learned its human equivalent yet.

I realize that meditation is a useless endeavor. I will not achieve my optimal meditative state tonight, nor will I likely sleep. Walking to my desk, I pick up a copy of the old-Earth style book that lies there. Friendship Stories and Quotes. Commander Tucker gave it to me, shortly after our conversation. “It’ll help you understand friendship better,” he had promised.

I allow a slight frown to cross my face. I have already read the book. It has not allowed me to understand how Commander Tucker can proclaim to be my friend. . . and willingly cause me such discomfort. Surely he must understand that hearing those words- “What Hoshi and Trip are doing is perfectly normal”- would elicit a strong emotional response. Even from a Vulcan. How could I prevent from being emotional when my pillar has been stolen from me? Is it not logical that a structure would become unstable once its support has been removed? Indeed.

Perhaps Ensign Sato was correct. Perhaps Commander Tucker was a liar and a “bastard,” although I am certain that is not how she refers to him now.

Perhaps we were not friends.

No. Commander Tucker did not lie to me. He has remained my friend. My discomfort is due only to my desire to have more. To have with Commander Tucker what he is having with Ensign Sato.

My discomfort will no doubt compromise my ability to perform my duty. How will I be able to stand on the bridge, next to the woman who has the freedom to call my commander “Trip?” I will be spending my time on the bridge calculating what she calls him when they embrace. Does she use his nickname, or does she call him Charles? I would prefer if she called him Charles…I never passed on the opportunity to call him Charles.

I did pass on the opportunity to call him Trip.

As I will be unable to perform my duty, I will turn in my resignation to Captain Archer in the morning. Then I will immediately return to Vulcan. No doubt I shall have to under go the Kohlinar to purge my feelings-love, hate, regret-all troublesome human emotions. I will bond with a suitable, logical mate. My Vulcan mate will be the antithesis of Commander Tucker. When I look at my bondmate, I will see no trace of the passion that my Commander exudes. With the passage of time, I shall forget him.

I glance again at the book in my hands. I will leave it behind. If I am to forget Commander Tucker, I cannot take the book with me. It would serve no purpose other than to remind me that “What Hoshi and Trip are doing is perfectly normal.”

It would remind me of his humor, his enthusiasm, his passion…

I have had enough experience with human passion tonight.

Knowing that sleep will not come and that I cannot make preparations to leave for another 6 point 3 hours, I take the book to my bed, and prepare to read it one last time. It is illogical to do so. Much of my actions tonight have been illogical. However, I realize this will be my last opportunity to hold the item in my hands. And this is as close to holding Trip as I will ever get. As I realize the truthfulness of the last statement, I allowed two more expressions of human emotion to dampen my cheeks.

----

Continue to Chapter 2 (Trip Dreams)

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