Title: Reflections on experience
Author: StormieNights
People: T, T
Rating: PG
Summary: T'Pol becomes more human than she realised or ever wanted to be.
Author's Note: Apparently this was uploaded instead of my other story. But are just ideas that flew through my head. Sorry about the computer difficulty (walks off to find her Java book and see if it could help)
*****
T'Pol sat in her melancholy silence in the looming cafeteria. She was oblivious to the flickering lights which danced sporadically in the background, never in tune to her thoughts or the passing of people outside the doors. The silence was comfortable, keeping its own counsel and assuring her that her misguided thoughts would never be shared. She wanted the calluses that had built up over the years to disappear from her conscience. These experiences had strengthened her, given wisdom and potency, but had robbed her of all innocence and bliss. If a Vulcan was ever innocent to begin with.
The PADD in front of her and her cold tea were inconsequential. They were remainders of a purpose, of which she had entered the room at this unseemly hour to tackle.
Her mind was throbbing. Usually, she was objective. She evaluated situations and made logical responses. She looked at each problem from every viewpoint before making any sort of conclusion. Her method of thinking satisfied her scientific mind and left her with little remorse.
But those frames of mind had become less and less frequent as her life progressed. Now, it was small gestures or events which haunted her. Mistakes, ambushes, confrontations… Each singular event dampened her neutral mood. She could always recover through her meditation. Each moment was an opportunity to learn, she reminded herself.
Her fists of depression came often, with intense severity. No-one noticed, attributing it to the cold demeanour with which they viewed Vulcans. Little did they often care to understand that Vulcans were not cold, instead they were rational. Vulcans, unlike the humans that she had meet, could control themselves, dividing their Cartesian dualism and effectively separating their bodies form the minds. All Vulcans did this; except her, that is.
T'Pol knew she wasn't supposed to acknowledge emotion. So the swell of anger at herself that built as she mulled over her thoughts further angered her. It was a vicious circle, and she stood up to get more tea, desperate for some distraction to focus on.
The pouring of the light brown liquid was accompanied by the swishing of the Mess Hall doors. She found no need to turn around to see who it was, for a familiar voice chuckled softly from across the mess.
"Can't sleep?" Trip said and walked over to the replicator. She fumed at his obvious comment. An un-necessary comment. He could have just walked in and sat in his own corner of contemplation. Instead he had to come and sit down in front of her.
For a second she struggled to stay seated.
"What's keeping you up T'Pol?" he asked. She knew it was out of sympathy, even empathy. Still, her skin crawled at his words.
She could have quietly informed him that it was not only him, but every person on the ship that was keeping her awake. The fact that they were able to deal with their emotions so effortlessly. The fact that they didn't feel this strange urge to escape back into the comforting rules of logic.
"There is nothing 'keeping me awake'," she told him without flinching.
"Alright," Trip said and slapped the table before getting up. "I guess I'll just go back to my quarters and go over those upgrade reports for the Captain."
She stared into the tea as if to divine the future as he walked away, but could still feel his look before he exited the mess hall.
She looked out at the stars and wept for of her experiences with emotions. She pleaded with herself not to let go to her new wisdom. Humans were privileged to be endowed with such courage to live their lives with the misery it involved. She not only had to fight the condemnations from her own people, but her own mind.
But her self pity helped her see that she had become human long ago. If she could pity herself, she could hold compassion for others.
Author: StormieNights
People: T, T
Rating: PG
Summary: T'Pol becomes more human than she realised or ever wanted to be.
Author's Note: Apparently this was uploaded instead of my other story. But are just ideas that flew through my head. Sorry about the computer difficulty (walks off to find her Java book and see if it could help)
*****
T'Pol sat in her melancholy silence in the looming cafeteria. She was oblivious to the flickering lights which danced sporadically in the background, never in tune to her thoughts or the passing of people outside the doors. The silence was comfortable, keeping its own counsel and assuring her that her misguided thoughts would never be shared. She wanted the calluses that had built up over the years to disappear from her conscience. These experiences had strengthened her, given wisdom and potency, but had robbed her of all innocence and bliss. If a Vulcan was ever innocent to begin with.
The PADD in front of her and her cold tea were inconsequential. They were remainders of a purpose, of which she had entered the room at this unseemly hour to tackle.
Her mind was throbbing. Usually, she was objective. She evaluated situations and made logical responses. She looked at each problem from every viewpoint before making any sort of conclusion. Her method of thinking satisfied her scientific mind and left her with little remorse.
But those frames of mind had become less and less frequent as her life progressed. Now, it was small gestures or events which haunted her. Mistakes, ambushes, confrontations… Each singular event dampened her neutral mood. She could always recover through her meditation. Each moment was an opportunity to learn, she reminded herself.
Her fists of depression came often, with intense severity. No-one noticed, attributing it to the cold demeanour with which they viewed Vulcans. Little did they often care to understand that Vulcans were not cold, instead they were rational. Vulcans, unlike the humans that she had meet, could control themselves, dividing their Cartesian dualism and effectively separating their bodies form the minds. All Vulcans did this; except her, that is.
T'Pol knew she wasn't supposed to acknowledge emotion. So the swell of anger at herself that built as she mulled over her thoughts further angered her. It was a vicious circle, and she stood up to get more tea, desperate for some distraction to focus on.
The pouring of the light brown liquid was accompanied by the swishing of the Mess Hall doors. She found no need to turn around to see who it was, for a familiar voice chuckled softly from across the mess.
"Can't sleep?" Trip said and walked over to the replicator. She fumed at his obvious comment. An un-necessary comment. He could have just walked in and sat in his own corner of contemplation. Instead he had to come and sit down in front of her.
For a second she struggled to stay seated.
"What's keeping you up T'Pol?" he asked. She knew it was out of sympathy, even empathy. Still, her skin crawled at his words.
She could have quietly informed him that it was not only him, but every person on the ship that was keeping her awake. The fact that they were able to deal with their emotions so effortlessly. The fact that they didn't feel this strange urge to escape back into the comforting rules of logic.
"There is nothing 'keeping me awake'," she told him without flinching.
"Alright," Trip said and slapped the table before getting up. "I guess I'll just go back to my quarters and go over those upgrade reports for the Captain."
She stared into the tea as if to divine the future as he walked away, but could still feel his look before he exited the mess hall.
She looked out at the stars and wept for of her experiences with emotions. She pleaded with herself not to let go to her new wisdom. Humans were privileged to be endowed with such courage to live their lives with the misery it involved. She not only had to fight the condemnations from her own people, but her own mind.
But her self pity helped her see that she had become human long ago. If she could pity herself, she could hold compassion for others.