((A short A/N before I let you start.
I do not normally write Science Fiction, and I am by no means an expert on the StarTrek universe. I will not look up everything, simply because it's impossible, but my dates are right. I think.
I set this around 2372 or something, a short time after Generations. Oh and here's something else: I do refer to the movies. Have to. That makes Spock about 130, Bones above 140. 2364 he visited the TNG-Enterprise and was still active, so I assume he clings on to life for a couple more years. Vulcans live longer anyway.
This is something that has been clamouring to be written for longer than I care to think. So now it finally got its wish.
The title itself came to me because air or lack thereof is going to be a recurring theme. That is something I noticed rather than something I planned.
The chapter heading is an Evanescence song and it fits the mood of the introduction. So be warned.
As the short synapsis said, this is going to contain slash eventually. If you don't know what slash is, wise up.
Dear. I wanted superscript endnotes (without the actual endnotes) to make this look like an academic text that would contain citations. The formatting here doesn't agree with me on that (and stubbornly refuses to accept the html code), so they ended up in brackets.))
Chapter 1
Like You
Some will say they do not have emotions. Others will claim they control them. A few will refuse to speak about the subject. The first group are liars, the last afraid. The middle group are the ones capable of facing that they are not, in fact, computers. It is the intention of this essay to make an unbiased observation, with explanations drawn from psychology, a science that has been neglected for too long(13).
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Maybe she had been wrong. She didn't feel anything, dragging her dead bondmate from the wreck. She didn't feel anything when the aged Vainal announced her unborn daughter dead. She didn't feel anything, not even physical pain, when she gave birth to a corpse. Or when she realised what hadn't occurred to her before: That her bondmate had died without a chance to pass his katra to someone who could keep it safe. Yes, obviously, she had been wrong: She couldn't feel.
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From there let us move to an even more delicate subject.
No. 14 in the questionnaire ('Only for second marriages: Have you asked your parents why they got married? If yes, what was the answer? If no, why not?') will be addressed in this section. Of course, it is futile for a first marriage, which is customarily arranged. For the rest of the survey, the general answer was almost always yes with two exceptions (disregarding the human control group). The reason that was given was always a variation of 'it was logical'.
It can be argued now what that means. It is logical for a male who lost his bondmate to find someone else if he wishes to survive his next Pon Farr (cf. 3.1.1) without seeking outside help. However, it has been argued(39) that it is also logical if an individual falls in love. Having established that we do have emotions, this is entirely possible.
[…]
Aside from these positive effects, love also has the most negative impact(401). It can breed jealousy, fear, anger, all of which can be very hard to control. The crux of the matter is that these emotions must be controlled if we wish to avoid returning to savagery. In order to achieve that, the focus of the control must be the futile love itself, so as to minimise the exertion necessary for success. Love can destroy, this can be observed in humans without much effort(42). The same, without discipline, is true for us(43).
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It had come out of the blue. She had understood that she was alone on a planet full of strangers. Stranded without much hope of being found. A planet that had belonged to the Vainal, had been conquered by rogue humans, and was now controlled by them. And these humans hated everything that was different with fervour. She had, at last, realised that her bondmate was gone, the touch of his mind forever torn from her, his presence ripped out of her at his death.
But none of that mattered. There was a wild animal in her chest. One moment it hadn't been there, then suddenly, it had sprung to life, right where a piece of her was missing, to start eating at her guts. She had fled the Alms where the Vainal rebels ate their meals, locked herself into her room and started screaming. When that hadn't helped, she had begun slamming her fists into the rough wall. Her hands were bloody, fingers broken, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. She hated the three Vainal dragging her off to the infirmary. She hated Avrinjù, the High Priestess, who force-fed her something to put her to sleep. But she hated herself most of all.
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Recommended Reading: Hiding a Firestorm – Vulcans and Emotions written by T'Kray as a thesis for her own major. This little-known essay is not overly popular. I suspect a lobby that has no interest in such a controversial text being read by the majority of psychology students. She is the only listed author, but according to herself another Vulcan student of this university has provided so much input she requested he be listed alongside her. That was vetoed by the Vulcan embassy for unknown reasons. Only the four mandatory copies made of all major theses exist of this essay. T'Kray happened to be a student of this institute, so our library holds one of them. It cannot be borrowed and I ask you to treat it with great care if you read it in the library. It is close to irreplaceable. There are rumours about digital underhand distribution, but I for one never found evidence for that.
(This paragraph was included in every reading list for master students taking a class of Professor Susan Eeg, Ph.D. of Psychology)