Healing

Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, 2279.312, 1032 hours. "S'chn T'gai T'Alora Amadika, I did not go through 17.5 hours of labor for you just to have you put your life at risk so needlessly! What were you thinking?"

"Mama, I…"

On the other end of the screen her mother waved her off. "Save it, Missy! I don't want to hear it because knowing you you'll come up with some perfectly logical explanation as to why you purposefully threw yourself into the path of a sexual predator! Honestly, T'Alora, what were you thinking? He could've killed you…or worse!" It was then that her mother looked over to her sa-mekh who was conspicuously quiet. "Spock, say something!"

He made a point of looking directly at her. "I have no comment on the matter," he replied before moving out of frame.

T'Alora was more hurt by his unspoken disappointment then by any lecture he could have given.

However, her mother seemed to have enough to say to make up for both parents as she continued to admonish her very loudly in Swahili. She was hyper aware of the spectacle they must be making as her roommates were still in the room, keeping quiet off camera with their heads bent over their desks concentrating on their PADDs. Although they had been given a reprieve from attending their classes for the day while the investigation was underway they still had work to complete.

"T'Alora, are you even listening to me?"

She let loose a very soft sigh. "Yes, Mama."

"Good. I want you to promise me that you will never do something so reckless, careless and asinine EVER AGAIN. Do you hear me?"

She hung her head low. "Yes, Mama."

"Do you mean it!"

"Yes, Mama."

"Good." Her mother took a few breaths to calm down and added quietly, "This is the kind of stunt I worry about Se'tak pulling, not you. Honestly, when we got that call at 3 in the morning my heart stopped!" She ran a hand down her haggard-looking face. "Now how are your hands?"

T'Alora held her hands up for inspection; aside from minimal residual bruising they were sufficiently recovered. "The dermal regenerator was able to repair 99.8% of the damage sustained."

"Ok." Although she had calmed down somewhat her mother's concern was still obvious. T'Alora tried not to flinch as her gaze settled on the deep bruise at her temple. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Rather then argue semantics and the variable definitions accompanying the term 'alright' she decided to save herself the trouble and answer honestly, if vaguely. "I am well."

"Ok." Her mother continued to shift about uncomfortably in her seat but said nothing more, and as T'Alora had nothing further to add that would not upset her mother more they watched each other in silence. "Well I can see you have things to do so I'll let you go. I love you, Sweetie, and don't you ever do anything like this ever again."

She bowed her head. "I will not, Mama."

As she hung up the line she turned to see Casey's piercing gaze already on her. "I'm sorry I got you in trouble, T."

One eyebrow shot up. "You speak Swahili as well?"

Her friend shrugged, a small smile forming on her lips that did not quite reach her eyes. "I don't need to. That kind of tongue lashing is universal."

"Indeed."

"Thanks all the same, for everything." Casey came over and gave her hug, then startled Poleia by giving her one too.

The other girl turned in her seat to stare after her, the shock clear on her face. "You are a most emotive creature," Poleia declared.

It was the first time Casey genuinely laughed since the whole ordeal began.


Spock waited until Nyota was busy preparing for her shift before placing his call. He had been unaware that his mentor had survived the Destruction until he came upon him at the VSA after depositing T'Alora there at the start of term. Thirty years on it was now his daughter that was in need of assistance and Spock could think of no one else but Telnor who would be able to help her.


Vulcan Science Academy, New Shi'Kahr, 2279.312, 1400 hours. He unobtrusively observed the Council proceedings from the wings of the amphitheater as the investigation neared it's conclusion. After receiving the call from his former orensu* he was more intrigued than ever to see the young person who had single-handedly tracked and taken down the most dangerous predator in New Shi'Kahr since the city's inception.

She stepped forward as her name was called, head held high, and Telnor knew he would have recognized her anywhere. She possessed her father's spirit as well as his eyes.

Kenip opened up the proceedings. "S'chn T'gai T'Alora, we find that while your logic in this instance was sound, your resultant behavior was not in keeping with the Vulcan tradition which you have dedicated your life to upholding. What say you?"

Eyes straight ahead she replied, "I acted only in service to the Academy Community. I have nothing further to offer."

"Understood."

Telnor watched the group confer amongst themselves while the child continued to stand straight-backed and eyes forward. Their discussion was unimportant; he had already put forth his services for counseling the girl long before she entered the chamber. This meeting was merely a formality so that they could conclude their proceedings and he could examine his newest charge. He was pleased to discover that for being ¾ human T'Alora's control was remarkable.

Still, even from this distance he could find the cracks in her veneer.

"We will make note of this lapse in behavior in your permanent record. You are now free to go. This meeting is adjourned." Kenip rose and exited the room, the others following close behind.

T'Alora was angry; he observed this in the flare of her nostrils as she remained standing alone in the center of the room. When she at last strode out of the amphitheater he continued to observe her from a distance and noted that she was headed for the rock garden on the western side of campus.

Telnor followed.

It took 7.87 minutes to reach the garden and throughout that time she continued on unmindful of his presence. There was currently nothing in her gait or facial expression that hinted at her distraught emotional state. He watched as T'Alora sequestered herself in a far corner, partially obscured from view, her back turned to the campus…

…and promptly kicked the large boulder in front of her repeatedly.

It was such a childish gesture, yet in spite of himself Telnor found it endearing.

Taking great care to alert her to his presence he scraped his cane loudly across the walkway and she instantly froze. He continued up the path as if unaware of her earlier behavior only to pause a short ways in front of her. Head bent toward the ground, T'Alora ignored his presence for several seconds before he spoke her name and forced her attention on him. With a look he bid her attend and, unable to refuse an elder, she dutifully fell into step beside him.

Her curiosity radiated off of her in great waves yet still he said nothing. As they reached their destination he entered the proper code, the door pulling back to reveal an expansive and-by Vulcan standards-very eclectic office. Crossing the threshold Telnor next made his way to the tea kettle as she stood just inside the entryway, wearily eying him and her surroundings.

"Tea?"

T'Alora looked up at the sound of his voice and nodded her assent. Out of the corner of his eye he watched her gravitate toward different items around the room-a tribal mask presented to him by the High Queen of Gisor, an ancient Terran flute, the bones of a Urelian mongbat. After working for 105 years as an under minister for the Vulcan Cultural Council, Telnor returned to his first love of anthropology, initially as a field researcher and later as a teacher. It was logic that led him to return to his primary field of interest, though the few Terrans of his acquaintance who knew his story called his decision a 'mid-life crisis'.

Now however, at 289 years of age, this office was all he had to show for his work; the rest of his treasures lost with Vulcan herself.

Kaiidth. He was allowing his mind to wander from the matter at hand.


The Elder who had brought her to his office was curious for a full-blooded Vulcan. He was quite advanced in years and wore his white hair fairly long so that it grazed the side of his neck; he was stoop-shouldered too, requiring the use of a cane, which was normally considered a sign of weakness for such a proud race.

As he continued to focus on the tea T'Alora stopped examining him and continued to look at the curious artifacts he had on display. She recognized a handful of items-a Mayan flute, an early-Andorian bicycle, a Poltini hand fan-before pausing in front of the 3-D chess set. It resembled the one her sa-mekh kept.

"You have quite a mastery over your emotive displays, young one." She tensed; as Se'tak was known to say, she felt that there was indeed a 'but' coming. "Yet your emotions still have a great deal of control over you."

She suppressed her irritation and watched as he set the tea tray down on the side table before taking a seat.

"Do you meditate daily?" he asked.

"Ha, Osu.".

"My name is Telnor."

"Ha, Osu Telnor."

She watched a flicker of some indefinable emotion cross his expression as he observed her over the rim of his cup. Following his example T'Alora also sampled the tea.

"You meditate, though perhaps not as much as you should."

One eyebrow rose. If she were to engage in more meditation she suspected her entire day would be spent in the lotus position before an asenoi.

Telnor's hand swept out over the board. "Do you play?"

T'Alora eyed him critically. She simply could not make him out. "I do, though not often. I prefer to spend my time engaged in other pursuits."

"Such as improving your mastery of the defensive arts in the gymnasium."

Now both eyebrows shot up into her forehead. How he had deduced as much about her routine and personal habits after so brief an acquaintance she could not even begin to determine. "Yes."

Wordlessly he shot a hand out and made an opening move. A challenge, then. T'Alora swept the tails of her robes aside, took a seat, and countered his move. They remained locked in intellectual combat for 33 minutes, the victor as yet undetermined, before Telnor spoke again.

"Do you know why your feelings still maintain control, despite your years of discipline?"

Coming from a human this question would have been considered rhetorical. Coming from Telnor…well, she could only guess. She kept silent and was not left waiting long.

"It is because you do not take the proper care to analyze your emotions, you merely acknowledge their existence and then suppress them. Suppression alone is not control."


Telnor watched her closely out of his peripheral vision; his young charge sat completely frozen for 4.2 minutes. But it was still there in the brief but rapid flutter of her eyes; T'Alora had acknowledged the truth to his enlightened words and the incalculably heavy weight they brought to bear, suppressed the great emotional upheaval they brought about within her, and moved on.

When she had sufficiently regained her composure she brought her Queen to E7, level 2. To anyone who had not been watching her for the last 5 minutes this maneuver alone proved how shaken T'Alora truly was.

With a steady hand he brought forth his Bishop to D5, level 3. "Check."

Her deep brown eyes roved over every square millimeter of the board. She could have sacrificed any number of Rooks, a Knight and even her Queen but the outcome would inevitably be the same. T'Alora overturned her King before that could come to pass and graciously accepted defeat.

"You have some skill in this game and yet you have not won. You know the rules, the strategies, and you see the board laid out before you. It is not new. Why, then, did you lose?"

This time she answered him readily. "I have not enough practice in the game, Osu Telnor."

"Agreed." He nodded and waved a hand out over the game, picking up her overturned King. "Consider the pieces on this board. In the beginning of the game they were set out in a logical, well-ordered pattern. As the match progressed they were shuffled about-to the untrained observer their movements would appear random but to those who know the rules the patterns are once again logical and well-ordered. Everything is predictable-" here he glanced at her "-until it is not."

Telnor made sure T'Alora followed his hand as he completed the moves she would have made to stave off checkmate, plucking each of her pieces off the board one-by-one and bringing them to his side. "This upsetsthe balance of the game; and if you do not review the techniques that brought about the loss you will never be able to learn from them and achieve victory."

Terrans had a phrase-'If looks could kill'-and that was precisely how T'Alora was eying him now. Carefully, coolly, he held her withering gaze, pushing her as far as he dared. Telnor knew she would never strike out at him, physically or verbally, but there was a 36.5% chance she might leave before he was finished. When he believed he had tested her patience far enough he set his mug back down on the tray and rose.

"Would you care to play again?"

He knew how she was going to respond before she even said it. "Perhaps another time, Osu."

"Of course." Telnor deposited the empty mugs in the sink and turned to see her edging nearer to his door. "Our schedules have identical free periods on Thursdays beginning at 1400 hours. I will see you here for a re-match at 1430."

With a parting nod and a glare she departed, no doubt for another strenuous round of physical conditioning. However, Telnor knew he had gotten through to her. T'Alora would come around begrudgingly yet she would come around, and as they continued she would realize what a great source of support he could be as she navigated the turbulent waters of her emotions.

And thus Thursdays with Telnor was born.


* orensu = Vulkhansu, student

A/N: Thanks to everyone who has read and/or reviewed this story! I'm really glad you like it and I hope you'll keep coming back for more!