Pike stared at the woman standing next to his former first officer. He took in the regal face that carried only the faintest hint of the decades it must have weathered. The dark hair that would surely hang past her shoulders if she let it down. The even darker eyes that seemed to see right through him. Stunning. No other word accurately described what he was seeing. Attractive didn't capture the way his breath and heart and thoughts had all stilled when he'd turned his head at the sound of her smooth yet precise voice. Beautiful couldn't account for the way he suddenly craved her approval. Gorgeous just didn't seem fitting for a Vulcan.
He'd been stunned. Still was.
"Admiral?" she prompted, and he realized he was also gawping, slack-jawed as a thirteen-year-old looking at his first elicit holos.
Yeah, he thought, annoyed and embarrassed in equal measure, way to impress her.
"Madam," he said aloud. "Sorry about that. Spock here told me you'd practically raised Ambassador Sarek and him too, pretty much, so naturally…" He let the sentence trail off, but neither she nor the Starfleet commander jumped in with reassurances. "Uh, sorry," he repeated, lamely.
The Vulcan beauty didn't change expression and Christopher had to remind himself that it wasn't the way of her people to storm off in a huff.
She simply said, "Wisdom often comes with age, Admiral."
Unsure whether her apparent non sequitur — and he knew enough to know Vulcans never indulged in true non sequiturs — was meant as a way out or a rebuke, he decided to treat it as the former.
Smiling, he said, "Which is probably why Spock and his father believe you can help me."
Too late, he realized that his words might give offense, but she was nodding her head and saying, "If you are ready to begin, we shall explain what I will do, and what we hope to achieve."
.
"So, wait you're not going to reconnect my nerves to my brain?"
T'Shan mastered her impatience and, for the third time, replied in the negative.
Although she and Spock had simplified their explanation as best they could, the human admiral failed to comprehend what she would be attempting to help him achieve. He was not a touch telepath, and therefore had no frame of reference from which to draw understanding of Vulcan training methods. Human biology, not Pike himself, was at fault.
"The neural-regenerator was successful in causing the nerves damaged during your surgery to repair themselves," Spock told his mentor, also for the third time.
"I get that," Pike said in turn. The anger and frustration evident in his voice was disconcerting, but T'Shan had become accustomed to such displays during her years serving his protégé's parents. "What I don't get is how reading my thoughts is supposed to accomplish what the damned physicians couldn't do through so-called modern medicine!"
Ah. She understood. A glance at Spock told her he did, as well. She also suspected he was contemplating whether or not further revelation was warranted.
Surely, however, it would be allowed — even expected — in this instance. She knew even as she thought this that the matter was not so simple. Osu Sarek maintained that in order to survive, Vulcans must change some of their ways. Others, many of whom also served on the High Council, did not agree. Yet. Only time would show whether or not their minds could be changed.
Admiral Pike did not have a great deal of time. If this experiment did not work, he would either be relegated to living out the rest of his life confined to a mobile chair, or he would submit to surgery to implant the neural-orthotic supporter. She had done extensive research into his condition before coming to this meeting. There were no other options available.
"Admiral," T'Shan said, stepping towards his bed. The scent of his perspiration wafted across her olfactory organ. Surprisingly, she did not find it unpleasant. "I will not be required to 'read your thoughts' in order to perform this procedure." She glanced at Spock again before moving closer and proceeding. "There are many things which my people have not told offworlders. What we shall try to do now has its origins in one of those secrets."
Through her peripheral vision she observed Spock walking towards the room's only window. His back was stiff — whether with discomfort or with censure, she was unsure — but she kept her attention focused on the human before her. That the young Vulcan had stepped away was acceptance enough.
"Spock has told you that Vulcans are, to some extent, self-healers," she told Pike. "The ability to alter one's state of consciousness for therapeutic purposes is innate, but not always intuitive. Children who have difficulty… sensing injury on a cellular level are identified early and it is incumbent upon their parents to guide them through the process of repairing damage.
"My… son was such a child, as was Spock. I helped them both learn to heal themselves." T'Shan waited, already searching for new words in case the admiral still failed to understand. Speaking of Satuvek pained her. Even thinking of him threatened to bring back memories she preferred to keep at bay.
"You're going to help me see what's wrong inside of me — why the electricity is off, even though the wires have been repaired?"
Although she understood what he was attempting to convey, T'Shan did not answer at first. She found it intriguing that he would use such a comparison to, perhaps, distance himself from the process. But when Pike began to speak again — most likely to rephrase — she cut him off. "That is an accurate analogy."
The human nodded. Just before he turned away, she saw that his face was devoid of expression. She wondered if he had ever studied any of the human ascetic traditions.
"Okay, then, Lady T'Shan," Pike said without facing her again.
"Only T'Shan," she corrected as she advanced the final meter to his bedside.
"T'Shan," he echoed, his eyes trained on Spock.
"I will touch only your peripheral nervous system, but to do so, I must also touch you. Please raise your head." He nodded and complied, but did not speak again. "A mind meld would require a different technique," T'Shan explained as she placed her fingers against the back of his head.
.
In spite of everything Spock and the Vulcan woman claimed, Christopher waited for the brush of a foreign mind against his. He wasn't even sure what he meant by that.
But there was no invasion. No sense of his mind splintering into two. No shattering of that ineffable, unnamed thing that made him Christopher Pike and no one else.
Instead, he felt… everything. He couldn't say how long the experience lasted, but he was certain he never wanted it to end.
Every beat of his heart became a complex dance of muscle and blood, every molecule of air flowing over his skin became distinct.
Hair and fingernails growing, oxygen being exchanged for carbon dioxide. Veins carrying exhausted blood back to his lungs. Cells dying as new ones were born. From the top of his head to the end of his torso, it was all there for him to know, to experience.
Beyond that, there was nothing.
T'Shan's fingers left his head and his world contracted again. The extraordinary cognizance receded and he mourned its loss. At the same time, he was relieved that the contrast between what he could feel and what he couldn't was also dulled.
Breathing almost eluded him, his chest was so tight. He didn't know if it was from fear… or from anticipation.
"Your body is sound," she told him. He was dimly aware that she still stood at his side. "The damage has been repaired properly. You must only learn to follow the pathways again."
Her stark assessment snatched him back. Fully alert, he turned his head to watch her face. "Only?"
"It is a beginning," she said.
"But can we continue?" he wanted to know. "And will we succeed?"
"We will continue. I will return after you have completed your physical therapy tomorrow."
He wondered if her noncommittal response was due to Vulcan logic, or if it was because she didn't believe this "therapy" would work.
.
.
Although he did not remove his attention from the hover-car controls, Spock was acutely mindful of his passenger's discomfort as they maneuvered above San Francisco's wet streets. After twelve minutes of tense silence had elapsed, he addressed the woman who had helped raise him.
"You ended the skasaya prematurely," he observed.
"Your admiral is a human,' T'Shan pointed out. "Before today, he had no idea the healing meld existed."
"All the more reason for him to require a kakhartausu t'nohv."
"I will continue to guide him," she promised. "But it is better to introduce him to our ways slowly. The hakau-nohv can be difficult, even with Vulcan children."
They both fell silent again. While Spock continued to glide the car towards her residence, T'Shan contemplated the healing meld she had shared with his mentor.
Linking with the human had been simpler than one might expect. He was nearly psi-null and, by Vulcan standards, out of tune with his body. It was perhaps these very deficiencies that had eased her exploration of his nervous system and then the rest of the physical manifestation of Christopher Pike.
There had been no resistance. She was unsure if his conscious mind had been aware of her presence. Finding out would require touching his mind, and that was something she preferred to avoid. His body was unsettling enough.
He believed himself broken, unable to function below his waist. His body knew better, even if it could not relay that information to his conscious mind. His body had known she was there and had reacted accordingly.
It was fortunate that Spock's back had remained turned until that first hakau-nohv was complete.
.
.
.
Helen Noel fell in step next to the chair as Pike exited the torture chamber.
"How'd it go yesterday?" Her hands were tucked behind her back in a futile attempt to appear clinical, but the smile she was trying fight ruined the effect.
He treated the pretty psychiatrist to a long, shrewd gaze before smiling wryly. "You tell me," he said, adjusting his legs in the chair. "I'm sure you and Spock were on the comm as soon as he got back to his quarters."
"Just goes to show you're not always right!" Noel laughed and eased behind him. Probably to make sure he couldn't see her face. He twisted in the seat to glare at her.
"You know these blinks and beeps are supposed to let you know this thing can go all by itself. What did he tell you last night?"
"What?" She snatched her hands off the mobile's back and held them up in a parody of surrender. "He's spending every moment he can with his girlfriend, right now."
Facing forward again, Christopher felt like hiding his own face. He slumped a little in the chair as they made their way down the quiet corridor, letting his mind mull over the events of the past few months. And then he let memory take him back further. To a time when he'd been fearless and exploring the stars had meant so much he'd sold Starfleet to just about every promising young person he met.
Before one of them had been forced to watch his world evaporate.
Helen's "I didn't hear from him until this morning" lifted him out of his melancholy reverie.
"And what did he have to say?"
She laughed again, the sound reminiscent of happier times.
"He said that T'Shan is optimistic enough to want to keep trying."
They halted at the door to his room, and the doctor stepped aside so that her onetime mentor could wheel himself in first. She followed behind, smiling to herself.
Pike lifted himself onto the bed, belatedly thinking that he should have showered first. He was about to reach for the bar, to lever himself up and back into the chair when he noticed Helen's mischievous smile.
"What?"
"He also said you made an ass of yourself in front of his 'Granny' and that your behavior probably killed whatever tiny chance you had of doing anything about that crush you've got going."
Scoffing, to hide a smile, Chris tried to look stern. He failed. "Spock didn't say any such thing."
"Well, not in so many words."
With a wink, she plopped into the chair beside his bed.
.
.
The admiral was not alone. T'Shan heard the raised voices behind the thick door from six meters away. She quickened her steps and entered without announcing herself.
"Think of Spock, Hel!" she heard Pike shout. "He's trying to cram a lifetime of loving into whatever time he's got left. Is that how you want to end up living? Snatching what happiness you can, when you can because you're afraid of what tomorrow is going to throw at you? Because that's what you'll be signing up for if you stay. Space is dangerous."
A dark-haired human woman stood over the admiral's bed. "The whole universe is dangerous," she said quietly. T'Shan couldn't see her face, but she heard the exasperation — perhaps overlaid with affection — in her familiar voice. "You can't protect us all, Chris. Not even if none of us ever left Earth again."
Doctor Noel took a breath, as if preparing to say more, but the admiral turned his head and noticed T'Shan standing by the now-closed door.
Spinning around, the young woman quickly rearranged her features into a smile.
"T'Shan!" she greeted. "Maybe you can talk some sense into him."
The nature of the disagreement was clear. T'Shan was not surprised to learn that Christopher Pike would wish to ensure the safety of his protégée. She did not wish to take part in their argument, but experience told her that a voice of reason must sometimes come from an outside source.
"Doctor Noel," she said, nodding. "If I understand correctly, Admiral Pike's concerns extend to many of the cadets he has mentored. Given his recent experiences, his feelings are… understandable." She turned to address the patient. "Doctor Noel is also correct, however. Danger can be found anywhere in the universe. If we were all to allow knowledge of that to hamper our endeavors, there would be no progress."
The mind healer looked pointedly at the grim-faced admiral. Both women waited for his response, but when one finally came, it was directed at Helen Noel.
"Don't you have some heads to shrink?"
Noel smiled, using only her mouth, then left without speaking again. The very real fear and anguish in the admiral's eyes as he watched her go was telling. An idea formed in T'Shan's mind. One she hesitated to explore, but she had promised to help this man. If this was what she must do….
"There is little sense in asking Doctor Noel to leave her post." She walked away from the door and sat in the chair beside the bed. "I had a son. My husband and I worried about his safety, but knew we could not hinder his… aspirations."
Pike looked away from the door for the first time since the doctor's exit. "Had?" The apprehension in his expression deepened.
T'Shan took a steadying breath before she replied. "He died and grieving him destroyed my husband's mind." She stared at the admiral, forcing herself not to fall into the well of sorrow that threatened whenever she thought of Satuvek and of what had become of Selenik after his death. "Your body is sound, Admiral Pike, and yet you cannot use the whole of it. I believe you grieve, as well. I believe that grief is what prevents you from healing fully, like Selenik's grief kept him from healing."
A/N: Please check out Aphrodite420's new one-shot Sunrises for more on T'Shan, Satuvek and Selenik. Find it at www(dot)fanfiction(dot)net/s/6383207/1/. Also, I don't usually include vocabularies in my fics, but for Aphro's sake:
skasaya: medical treatment
nohv: meld
hakau: heal
kakhartausu: guide (noun)
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek, any of its characters and T'Shan remains the sole property of the fan fiction writer known as Aphrodite420.