Author's Note:

Tangential Spoiler Alerts for "Impulse"!

This bit of T'Pol's backstory takes place during her time on the Seleya, as she is considering whether to accept a diplomatic posting at the Vulcan Consulate on Earth. We meet Solen, whom T'Pol said she knew in the episode "Impulse".

A bit of #headcanon, here: As a baby, while sitting on the lap of her meditating mother, T'Pol ignored the warnings given to every Vulcan infant, and touched the flame of the meditation candle. This earned her a reputation as being more daring than the average Vulcan.

I've made Solen a bit unusual, as well, and played with the nature of his and T'Pol's connection.

Today's Story A Day prompt was to write a 40-minute story: 10 minutes to set up and write a beginning; 20 minutes to add complications in the middle, and 10 minutes to review and wrap things up.

I confess, I went about 20 seconds past my timer.

As always, I profit nothing - I just love them.

Critiques and comments always gratefully accepted - they make me a better writer.


The door slipped open at her signal, and Solen saluted with one hand and beckoned her in with the other. "Greetings, young T'Pol, and well-met."

"To you, as well, Solen." She settled upon the floor cushion; he had made this space for her when she first began to visit him here. A candle was already lit, as though perhaps he had expected her.

Solen went to his easel, and lifted a new canvas to it. He said nothing, nor did he take up a brush.

"I've been offered a position at the Vulcan Consulate." She paused for a deep breath. "On Terra."

"Will you accept?"

"I do not know. Meditation yielded no conclusive answers."

Now Solen chose a brush, but didn't dip it in paint. "Perhaps you didn't ask the most useful questions."

"I believe I considered the matter from all logical angles." In the presence of others, the note of defensiveness that escaped her control would have been a breach of etiquette; perhaps she felt so at ease in Solen's company precisely because it was not, with him.

A time of quiet. Solen put down his brush, and picked up a stylus. He began sketching, then said, "Do you wish to share your considerations, young T'Pol?"

"To what end? I've already considered them at length."

"You have come to me for a reason. You never come, else. Perhaps that reason was to speak with another, and gain a perspective you might not consider in solitude."

Solen's logic seemed ever to carry the shadings of his art. There was truth in his words. She had not known that was why she came here until he spoke, but it was nonetheless true. He continued sketching, and did not look at her. T'Pol was perhaps illogically grateful for that measure of privacy.

"I considered that the opportunity would expand my experience to include diplomatic matters. Such experience would doubtless prove useful in future deep-space postings. Ambassador Soval is well-regarded; I would learn much in even a minor position on his staff. However, I accepted a two-year assignment on Seleya, and am expected to formalize my marriage to Koss at the end of it. There's also much yet to be learned here."

"You mention nothing of your long interest in visiting Terra. Was that desire no part of your consideration?" He set aside the stylus, and began to arrange paints on the small board he used for that purpose.

"It was irrelevant to do so."

"In what sense?"

"The Ambassador included the protocols for Terran diplomatic service in his communication. I would be confined to the Consulate grounds, and unlikely to meet any humans beyond the parameters of my duty – and then only if I advance to a position of distinction, which is uncertain."

Solen began to paint. "Where you not the infant who dared to touch the flame?"

"I was." The old scars on her fingers pulsed gently, and T'Pol watched the candle's flame dancing with her breath, knowing it was not logical to think it so.

"Have you lost that daring, young T'Pol?"

"Perhaps, Solen. Perhaps not. I don't understand your purpose in asking."

"If you are still in possession of it, it seems there would be possibilities for one willing to dare judicious violations of those protocols. It is certain that we understand far too little of the humans. There would no doubt be great benefit for all of Vulcan if we had more knowledge of them as they are when they do not know there is a Vulcan present."

T'Pol attempted to control her increased rates of respiration and circulation, but failed. The flame's dancing was the proof of her agitation at this idea. "You' re suggesting that I accept the position with the intent to commit subterfuge?"

"Did you not do something very like this when you were employed with the Ministry of Security?" His hand moved swiftly, as though he knew the subject well.

"That was my duty."

"Perhaps, young T'Pol, you have a duty to yourself. Come, this painting is yours."

She rose and went to the easel – and there was an image of her, fingers stretched to touch a flame.

And at its heart, the planet known as Earth.