Learning Experience – Part I
First Minister T'Pau stood on the Bridge of the ambassadorial courier T'Klaas and watched the space on the view screen. Two brand new Suurok class battle cruisers had escorted the small transport to Earth where they transferred responsibility for the safety of the vehicle to SOLCOM before heading out to join the 1st offensive Fleet of Commodore Archer at Salem One.
She observed the blue orb in the center of the screen, the fascinating beauty of the water-rich planet only blemished by an ugly dark scar in the region that was once the home of krei Charles. She tried not to let the thought of seven million victims sink into her consciousness as she mentally prepared herself for the peculiar mission ahead, but the horror of so many deceased could not be dismissed. She realized that V'Las' refusal to help Starfleet on the Mission to the Expanse played a big part in fueling xenophobia on Earth, culminating in the attempt to create a cloned child of T'Pol and Charles with the sole purpose to die. She would have to consult with krei T'Pol to work out if there was any chance to remedy the damage done by Vulcan's abandoning Earth in time of dire need.
The meetings with Starfleet officials would be standard diplomatic work, especially as no diplomatic challenges presented themselves other than trying to smooth out relations with Starfleet some more. The Coalition was firmly established. The only small worry was the fact that the reports of Archer, describing their time in the Forge had allegedly created an unfavorable impression of her personality, one that she wished to correct, which prompted her decision to defer the official functions until after her stay aboard Jupiter station. The young Vulcan reasoned that after spending some time among humans, she would be better prepared to handle the diplomatic meetings in a way that would counter the preconceptions caused by Archer's reports.
The stay on the station however would surely be a unique experience. Raised in the remoteness of the Vulcan Forge, she had little experience with alien cultures. Captain Jonathan Archer had been the first alien she had ever met and now she was going to spend full two weeks on a station in close quarters with Humans, Andorians and Tellarites. Thankfully her identity was not known among the alien races, much less her appearance. The Vulcans had been instructed to refrain from any marks of respect other than those they used routinely, so she could enjoy a degree of anonymity.
Several subspace consultations with Soval had prepared her for the challenges ahead. According to the clan's Elder, krei Charles was unusual in every way imaginable. Emotional at times, even by human standards, he had become very knowledgeable in matters of Vulcan culture through his affiliation with the clan, enough so that the Eldest mother trusted him to provide for her well-being.
Krei T'Pol was a most unusual Vulcan in many ways, but strangely T'Pau would always find a passage of the true Kir'Shara that provided a suitable explanation for every case of T'Pol's alleged deviant behavior. Soval had even gone as far as to postulate that T'Pol might well be the one Vulcan that currently came closest to the spiritual idea of a Vulcan personality described in Suraks writings.
Captain Malcolm Reed, the godfather – as the humans translated the Vulcan word – of Lorian, the displaced-in-time son of Charles and T'Pol was a former operative of a secretive faction of Earth's intelligence service that not even the V'Shar could provide much information about. According to the Eldest Mother he could - if necessary – apply a control to his emotions that would be worthy of a Vulcan. He was the one in need of her help to overcome his fear of water.
Hoshi Sato-Reed, the wife of Malcolm and godmother of Lorian, was the most elusive of her four hosts. The only information Soval had been able to provide was that she was Earth's most distinguished linguist, who spoke all contemporary Vulcan dialects and several ancient ones, a feat that only four or five native Vulcans were capable of.
When T'Pau refocused on her surroundings she was just in time to notice the report from the Captain that they had been cleared to approach Jupiter station.
=/\=
"How do I look?" Trip asked for the third time and nestled with the collar of his dress uniform.
"Your attire is adequate for the occasion," T'Pol repeated and rolled her eyes.
"You didn't fuss that much about your look, when Soval came aboard," Hoshi needled him with a grin.
"Ha, ha," Trip mocked ironically. "Last time I checked Soval wasn't the leader of the whole damn planet and one that the Eldest Mother entrusted me with. I'd rather cross a battalion of Klingons than angering the Eldest."
"Aren't you exaggerating a bit?" Malcolm asked.
"If the Eldest is cross, my wife will be, too," Trip explained. "And that is something I want to avoid at all cost. She knows where my off-switch is."
Hoshi and Malcolm laughed out loud, both knowing about Hoshi's neuropressure-zapping of Trip, while T'Pol limited her reaction to a very pronounced giggle-brow.
Their banter was interrupted by the incessant beep of the airlock indicator – a sign that the T'Klaas had docked. The airlock opened and and T'Pau stepped forward, leaving Vulcan territory for the first time in her young life.
"T'nar pak sorat y'rani," Trip intoned the formal greeting, surprising Hoshi with the complete absence of his usually atrocious accent.
"T'nar jaral," T'Pau replied and offered nods of acknowledgment to T'Pol, Malcolm and Hoshi before accepting the traditional greeting of kinship offered by Trip.
"Welcome aboard," he said after the elaborate gesture was completed.
"I'm honored," T'Pau answered in flawless Standard. "As per the Eldest wishes, my presence here is strictly informal, so formal titles or addresses will not be necessary. We all possess first names, the use of which is perfectly acceptable in Earth culture among clansmen, is it not?"
"Sure thing," Trip confirmed, slipping into 'informal mode' easily. "Why don't you follow Hoshi? She'll show you to your quarters. I'll drop by later to give you the grand tour of the station."
"Agreed," T'Pau said and walked off with Hoshi.
"Ok, Mal, Let your people give this place an enema. I know you run a tight ship with security, but we don't exactly have the mail man for dinner. If any of those idiots has gotten wind..."
"It's ok, Trip," he interrupted him. "I know what you mean and we're on the same page."
Malcolm jogged off, leaving Trip and T'Pol behind.
And we darlin', we'll make up a plan on how we go about this.
"Agreed."
=/\=
"I was informed that you will teach me swimming techniques before I try to assess your mate's problem," T'Pau said in an attempt to initiate 'small-talk', a practice that Soval had informed her about.
"That depends," the human woman replied. "There may be cultural barriers."
"I was made aware of that," T'Pau answered, hoping her guide would not notice the uneasy sensation she was experiencing. "I do intend to enter any challenge I might encounter without prejudice. I wish only to ask that you take no offense if I abort the lesson prematurely should I grow uncomfortable with the activity or any … cultural barriers."
"No offense will be taken," the human promised with a smile that T'Pau found strangely encouraging. "You will be included in our everyday lives. We might leave you to yourself during the day if our tasks require it, but you will be offered to partake in many recreational activities we engage in, but please know that you can refuse or abort any participation at any time without causing offense. The purpose of your visit is to find your own bearings on life, not to force you into anything."
"I admit to a certain apprehension," T'Pau said. "The Eldest mother encouraged me to partake in any activity offered to me, but since I am not skilled in deciding whether an activity is unseemly by the strict standards I was raised with only or by Vulcan society in general, I could in the end offend the Vulcans already stationed here. The Kir'Shara promotes several concepts like individuality, but their description is vague at best and I'm usually quite isolated in the High Council."
"T'Pau, we would not encourage you to do anything that would be unacceptable. Whenever we present a suggestion, be sure that none of the other Vulcans would take offense, in fact we will not suggest any activity that isn't taken part in by other Vulcans, too."
"Does that include the use of bathing facilities?" T'Pau asked, her interest piqued.
"Most of them use the pool," Hoshi confirmed. "Lieutenant-Commander T'Len shattered the station record over 1.500m last week."
"Most intriguing," T'Pau said.
"You will soon learn that many of the Vulcans here are very liberal. They strictly adhere to their traditional values; they meditate, keep a tight emotional discipline, but they are also open-minded in regards to other cultures. Just last week five Vulcan engineers joined a group of Andorians on an excursion to Alaska. They came back thoroughly freezing, but with a dozen new admirers in blue."
"Fascinating."
=/\=
T'Pau did something she had done many times before – she looked into a mirror. But this time she didn't look to check if all the ornaments of the heavy official robes were displayed properly and whether or not her sash was positioned at the right angle. On the nondescript grey catsuit that all civilian female Vulcan engineers wore there were no symbols or sashes to worry about.
But there was something other, which she very well noticed – the transformation the garment had caused to her silhouette. She suddenly appeared much more slender and the tight fitting attire defined the exact curvature of her body as opposed to the heavy governmental robes, which had given her a much more robust appearance. She fought down her annoyance at such irrelevant thoughts. It was all the fault of the Eldest. Since she had disclosed the ancient drawings of bared Vulcans, her own appearance had simmered as a constant background noise in her mind and no attempt at meditation was able to cast it out. It was all the fault of the Eldest.
The door chime interrupted her mental flogging of the matriarch and krei Charles entered the room once she had voiced her permission to enter.
"Ready for the grand tour?" he asked with a smile.
"I am," T'Pau answered and felt a moment of confusion as to why he didn't comment on her appearance. Surely if it was a stark enough difference to influence her ordered thought process, wouldn't a human be compelled to make an observation? The research from the Vulcan science academy indicated that outward appearance played a much bigger role for humans than it did for her people. Still shelving the confusion for later meditative processing, she followed her host.
=/\=
"You need to rest, your feet are hurting and as a result, so do mine," T'Pol's voice resonated in his mind. It was rare that she used direct communication using the 'bond telephone', so he knew that he was seriously disturbing her. Wasn't his fault that the station was so huge and T'Pau wanted to see everything? Obviously she didn't mind the endless walk. Trip thought images of the places they had visited in rapid succession to give T'Pol an idea why his feet were burning.
"Invite her for dinner," T'Pol instructed.
Trip sent her back an image of him and T'Pol in the shower. (join me?)
"Please choose a different image in the future," T'Pol nagged back. "It is not practical to arouse me while at work. You know how hard it is for me to suppress."
An image of a red rose was sent as an answer. (sorry)
"Apology accepted. But be prepared to do something about it in the evening. I cannot join you. SOLCOM has ordered us out on a sensor training run for Academy cadets near the Kuiper belt. We will be away for at least four hours."
Trip sent an image of the sauna, followed by the clock showing 2200.
" quarters, I have a different plan," came the heat-radiating reply.
Trip chuckled and refocused on his immediate surroundings. At some point he had obviously stopped just like that and he found himself in the corridor with T'Pau standing in front of him, an eyebrow raised inquisitively.
"You can communicate telepathically?" she asked.
"Sort of," Trip confirmed. "But I'm somewhat limited. Maybe you should ask T'Pol about it, she can probably explain it in a way that's more understandable for you."
"Agreed."
The chirp of his communicator interrupted their exchange. He flipped it opened and prompted the incoming transmission.
"I have booked a table at "Cathrine's," in an hour. Hoshi informed him. "Can you please drop by the Mission room beforehand? We need to go over some schematics for project EM."
"Be there in 10," Trip replied when he heard the code name they had agreed on, whenever discussions were necessary about the 'entertainment program' for their distinguished guest.
"Sorry 'bout that," he said to T'Pau while flipping his communicator shut.
"Apologies are not necessary," she replied, unaware of the coded message. "Your work has priority. I had not yet the chance to meditate today, so I shall take the opportunity to do so."
"Great," Trip said with relief. "I'll pick you up in an hour."
"Agreed," she said and walked off towards the monastery chambers.
=/\=
"Mother of god," Trip sighed when he finally had a chance to sit down on a chair after arriving in Buran's mission room.
"Finally," a relieved voice droned in his mind. He answered with an image of his hand cupped behind his ear to tell her she should join in as she needed to hear what's going to be said.
"Hold on, Hoshi," he told his questioningly looking host. "I asked T'Pol to hook in, but she's currently on the bridge and has to hand over the ship first."
"Hi T'Pol," Hoshi greeted when T'Pol's face appeared on the view screen after a few minutes.
"What is the conversation about?" T'Pol asked calmly.
"I noticed something about T'Pau and I'm worried. She seems to have trouble of some kind. It must be pretty bad if she's radiating her emotions so hard that I can sense something."
T'Pol acknowledged Hoshi's suspicion with a nod. "She is most self-conscious. The information the Eldest Mother has given her has deeply unsettled her."
"I'm starting to think it wasn't my best idea to join in her little scheme. I thought she wanted to help her, not scare her witless," Trip ranted growing more and more irritated. "Wouldn't it have been enough to tell her we're going to teach her swimming? Was all that naked Vulcan clan baths malarkey really necessary? What the hell did she expect? That we peel her out of the jacket and make her a stripper in the mess hall? I'll give T'Mom a piece of my mind, you bet! She's probably scared shitless."
"Calm down, Trip," T'Pol ordered sternly. "I admit the Eldest Mother's approach was fairly coarse, but it was the logical one. She is not scared of undressing, she begins to understand that her appearance matters - to others and to herself. That is troubling her mind."
"How can you miss your own appearance for 30 years," Trip snorted sarcastically. "Wait till you see her in that catsuit. How could she have missed that she looks quite a deal better than other Vulcans?"
Hoshi opened her eyes wide. Had Trip really just complimented the looks of another woman in front of T'Pol?
"You have experience with such things," T'Pol replied calmly, not the least bit bothered by Trip's compliment for their guest. "Vulcans are usually ignorant of it. I never knew that my appearance made a difference until I faced the scenario of having to enter the decon chamber in my underwear with someone, who wasn't of my clan."
"After Rigel X?" Trip asked in disbelief.
"Yes."
"Why? You still had your two-piece on. I couldn't possibly see the sweet bits. What was different to all the 60 years before that?"
"Your quickened breath, your dilated pupils and that was even before you touched me," T'Pol analyzed calmly.
"Are you trying to tell me that no Vulcan ever nursed a semi from seeing you? Do they all fancy the bland types?" Trip asked, not noticing how Hoshi almost burst a blood vessel just trying not to laugh out loud about the hilarious exchange.
"Vulcans cannot get aroused by visual stimuli alone," T'Pol explained. "Arousal needs many different stimuli, most importantly a bond. And a Vulcan would never comment on another Vulcan's appearance. That's why Vulcans are mostly completely ignorant of their appearance."
"Well, that explains them catsuits," Trip said. "They're not really designed to help you out if you have weight problems, are they."
"The catsuits are not the problem," T'Pol said. "One of the strongest instincts in Vulcans is defense. You can lose all your family, all weapons and be in the Forge all by yourself – there is one last defense you will still have."
"Your clothes," Hoshi joined in. "It protects you from the sun, the dirt and the views of others."
"That's why you started realizing it even in underwear. You were losing most of your last defenses," Trip realized aloud.
"Indeed."
"Guess we better buy her a full-body neoprene suit for the swimming lessons then," Trip said.
"No we won't," T'Pol said. "She will need to learn how to relax her defenses among clansmen. And Hoshi will wear nothing, meaning that she is in Vulcan eyes completely defenseless, so T'Pau will not feel threatened."
"She could still ask you to teach her," Trip reminded her.
"She won't," T'Pol said with conviction. "T'Pau is immensely curious. She would not pass up a chance to find out if she can endure the unknown situation."
"You think she'll go the full mile?" Trip asked.
"No," T'Pol said with equal conviction. "Her fear threshold would be too high. But a start will have been made and she will have to learn to cope with the situation."
"Why?" Trip asked. "There are things like air conditioning now. The times of prancing around naked to cool off in the heat are over."
"The Eldest Mother will reinstate the tradition of the yearly communal baths at some point in time. Our clan always had 3 communal baths each year to make sure that first time participants learn to let go of their defenses among clansmen and second as a means to assemble the clan members for conversation where rank, status or wealth were inconsequential."
"Like our onsen," Hoshi added.
"And many houses on Vulcan do not have air conditioning, so the ability to function with the last defenses gone can still mean the difference between life and death for some."
"Jeez, you folks can be difficult sometimes," Trip groaned jokingly.
"I have an idea, how we can start helping her with her self-consciousness," Hoshi said.
Both Trip and T'Pol looked at her with interest.
"If she just now starts to recognize her appearance, she'll soon notice that she looks like she's been having her hair done with a machete. How about one of us goes to the hair-dresser with her?"
"Good idea, Hoshi," Trip enthused.
"Indeed," T'Pol agreed.
=/\=
"And this young Lady is the swimming pool," Charles Tucker jr. explained.
After a copious pasta meal, which T'Pau had found most agreeable, Trip's father had volunteered to conclude T'Pau's tour of the station as only the Galena, the Stations 'entertainment ship', and the less interesting processing facilities were left. As one of the overseers of the rebuilding project he was the most qualified anyway.
T'Pau observed the busy goings-on in the large hall. A body of water, 50 standard meters in length, 16 meters in width and between 1.20m and 5.0m in depth was perused by at least 20 individuals, among them Humans, Andorians and Vulcans. None of the Vulcans seemed to have any problem with the element, strengthening her resolve to learn about the activity.
Like the human males, Vulcan and Andorian males wore simple pants which covered the lower body, but left the torso bare. Most Females of all three species wore a suit that covered the rump and left the legs and arms bare, while others, among them many Andorian women, wore a two-piece garment that only covered the breasts and the lower body region, leaving the rest of the body bare. She noticed that Andorian females were quite muscular in comparison to their human and Vulcan colleagues.
"Do you have a swimsuit?" Charles asked and started chuckling. "Most Vulcans were quite sceptical at first, but now you need to drag them out."
"I do not possess such a garment," T'Pau admitted. "But your wife volunteered to help me procure such an item."
"Make sure you buy a bathrobe, too," Charles warned. "We had Vulcans getting really cold just on the way back to the changing room."
=/\=
"So what do you think?" Trip asked as he walked back to their respective offices with Hoshi.
"She's much calmer now, I didn't sense a thing."
"Just do me favour, don't try to convince her of anything when you teach her, ok?" Trip pleaded. "Let her make her own decisions."
"Don't worry," she reassured him with a grin. "I wouldn't want the Eldest Mother demanding your hide."
"Don't remind me," Trip grinned back. "Speaking of you sensing things. Have you thought about trying to sharpen your latent empathy with T'Pol or better yet, Soval?"
"Why?" Hoshi asked.
"Why not? It would be a waste to not try how far you can take it. I mean, my starting level was 'tree stump', you'd start already half-way there. Who knows what it could be good for in the future."
"Hm, maybe," Hoshi mused. "But for the moment I'm busy enough with the neuropressure training. When T'Pol is finished teaching me all the necessary postures I might start studying for an instructors license with a Vulcan healer, so I could practice it professionally."
"Thinking about quitting the day job?" Trip quipped.
"No, but you and me have to finance something like 60 or 70 years of retirement and with my work on the universal translator, I seem to have accidentally obsoleted my own job as a language teacher."
Trip laughed softly.
=/\=
T'Pau's eyebrow rose when she saw the elaborate arrangement. There were 3 bodies of water. One looked like a miniature version of the swimming pool, about a quarter of the size. Another one was richly ornamented with miniature trees, stones and other items, arranged in an aesthetically pleasing pattern and a third one was basically a large hole, 2 meters in diameter and 3 meters deep.
"What is the purpose of this arrangement?" she asked pointing at the wooden structure near the water hole.
"It's called a sauna," Charles explained. "Basically, you sit in it and then heat it up until you start sweating. For humans that helps cleaning the skin as the sweat washes out contaminants from the skin. You stay in there like 15 minutes and then go out and jump in that hole full of cold water. The heat'n and coolin' helps strengthening the immune system."
"So this is an installation strictly for human use then," she deduced.
"Hell no," Charles said. "T'Pol's in here every second day. Other Vulcans love it, too. They crank up the grav-platin' and turn up the heat to feel right at home. "
"Why does it need so many storage facilities?"
"Gotta leave your clothes somewhere," Charles said, chuckling about the cluelessness of his guest. "With all the steam in here they'd get soggy wet."
"The structure is perused without clothes?"
"Sure," Charles explained. "Would be kinda uncomfortable sweatin' like hell with a shirt on."
"But Vulcans do not sweat, usually." she noted.
"No, he said. "But Solan told me they dig the heat and then cooling off. Says it really cranks up their blood circulation. But must be some clan business. They only go in here alone or strictly separated by clan. It's always Clan A, then Clan B and so on. Sorry, if I'm not sayin' the names. Clan Suurok is the only one I can pronounce without droolin' all over myself."
"Fascinating," T'Pau said.
The Eldest Mother had not exaggerated when saying that the Vulcans on the station were more liberal and open to change than the average citizen on the home planet. Too unfortunate that all the flexible Vulcans seemed to be drawn to service with the humans, while all the unflexible ones stayed back on the home world – and she was one of them.
Then it hit her. Had the Eldest Mother not said that she was not the ideal candidate for First Minister, yet. Yes, her blunt approach had unsettled her, but she started to see T'Para's logic. Who would be better suited for the highest position in the planet's hierarchy than someone, who could lead by example? A flash of grim determination overcame her. The thought of letting go of her firmest beliefs and guidelines unsettled her and made her feel vulnerable, but she was determined to master the challenge and she would start by not only buying what Charles's father had called a 'swimsuit', but also one of the peculiar two-piece garments.
=/\=
She calmly ate her salad and analyzed her situation. After the tour with krei Charles's father the day before she had retreated to one of the private meditation chambers to sort out the experiences of the day. Slowly the motives of the Eldest Mother became clear. Of course, she could have just explained her plans logically, but T'Pau began to see that the Eldest had expected that she would be much more inclined to face the challenges ahead, if she had come to the appropriate conclusions herself. She admired the wisdom of the clan's matriarch. She still rued the upset T'Para's blunt approach had caused, but she now felt stronger in the knowledge that she had overcome this challenging situation.
In the morning Charles's mother had accompanied her to Earth to buy the necessary clothing for bathing. Thankfully they had evaded any form of unsolicited attention except for a young female child, who had declared her ears aesthetically pleasing. She was now in possession of a bathing suit, a bathrobe and – as her guide had explained – a bikini. She could simply not make any sense of the garment. What was the logic behind covering the primary and secondary sex characteristics, the form and function of which every child knew after primary schooling, but leaving any other body part undefended and exposed? Any body deficiency would be in plain view. Maybe she should consult with krei T'Pol about the issue.
"Have you got the equipment?" she heard an Andorian say on an adjacent table. Several Andorian males were discussing rather loudly in the human language.
"Everything," the other said. "We can start tomorrow. It will be just like home on Andoria, Trok. The temperatures are like our winter, but more sun than we ever get in summer. These human have a wondrous planet."
"That will be the greatest excursion of them all. Thot's walk in Alaska will look like a march through the desert," a third one enthused.
T'Pau realized that the Andorians were planning a visit to one of Earths colder regions and in a spur of the moment she rose and walked over to the table of the Andorians.
"Excuse me warriors," she announced in flawless Andorian. "I was wondering if you would consent to my participation in your journey."
It was the first time she had tried her knowledge of the language of their former arch enemy on native speakers. She had started to learn the languages of all three other Coalition races after the first ever joint effort to stop the Rihanssu drone ship, knowing it would one day become an asset.
"Are you brave or are you foolish?" the Andorian named Trok asked and handed her a glass of Andorian Ale. She emptied the glass in one draught.
"I relish the challenge," she intoned the Andorian warrior motto, her voice hoarse from the burning sensation in her throat.
"You are a worthy companion," Trok hailed her antics in English. "Meet us at 0700 in the morning at airlock 7. We will bring your equipment, but make sure you have warm clothes. It will be an arduous challenge for a desert dweller!"
=/\=
Packed in several layers of thick clothing, T'Pau marched through the desert that was made entirely of snow and ice, neither of which were known to any Vulcan except those who had ever been to Paan Mokar, Andoria or Earth.
Having told Charles and T'Pol about her plans to visit one of Earth's most hostile environments, both had made it clear that they questioned her judgment, but had not made any attempt at convincing her to back out of her plan. Instead Charles had insisted that she acquire enough protective clothing in several layers for added insulation. It appeared that he had overshot the goal as she started to feel body heat accumulate under the heavy coats. She quickly abandoned two jackets.
As they walked on, she noticed the flaw in her plan. The Andorians had planned a two day journey, following the path of a human explorer from 250 years ago, called Roald Amundsen, who was the first human to cross this hostile continent. But she had not thought about food. Andorians preferred meat and Trok, the leader of the expedition had killed several creatures called 'penguins' for sustenance. She would have to rely on a Vulcan's ability to go for days without food.
=/\=
With a strange sense of achievement, she inspected her work. The primitive shelter called 'a tent' was easily assembled, if one was not required to wear thick gloves and several layers of clothing, which severely limited movement. Unfortunately she was required to wear both of those, but she had persisted. Seeing that the Andorians started to prepare the meat of the killed animals for consumption she retreated to her shelter.
Suddenly one of the Andorians crouched down before the still opened entrance of her tent and a flash of fear raced through her mind. Would he offer her some of the meat? How would he react to the inevitable refusal? Could she even afford to refuse?
To her utter astonishment the Andorian, Trok their leader, handed her a metallic bowl with salad and a fork in it.
"Our menu is not to your liking," he said in human standard. "Eat fast before it freezes."
Unable to say a word due to the onslaught of grateful emotions running through her mind, T'Pau closed her eyes and gave him a grateful nod.
"You're one brave Vulcan," Trok said. "I'll call you when we are done with the meat. We serve Ale. It will give you warmth."
=/\=
T'Pau woke up in a haze. Obviously the 15th ale must have been bad, the night before. Grabbing some of the snow and pressing it against her forehead, some of the throbbing pain subsided after a while. Since she could not remember going to bed, she deduced that she had either had managed the feat even without the use of her consciousness or her companions had carried her to safety.
Slightly unsteady she climbed out of the tent and was greeted by Trok with a visual manifestation of joy on his face.
"Good morning T'Pau," he said with a laugh. "I must admit you hold your drink well. Half my team is still out of it."
"You know my name?" she asked groggily.
"You told us and you also told us that you are THE T'Pau, but be assured, your secret is safe with us. We are honored that you chose to accompany us."
"Agreed," she groaned.
"Take this," Trok said and administered a hypospray that immediately alleviated the pain.
"Remind me not to drink Ale if my identity needs to be kept a secret," she declared dead-pan, which sent Trok into a hysterical fit of laughter.
=/\=
It had taken three hours and many hypospray injections into blue individuals until the expedition team finally got away. Her instinctive reaction was to question the wisdom of inebriating oneself in a hostile environment, but since she had partaken in the folly, she had no moral ground to do so.
Walking on through the vast white nothingness the team was thrown into a state of alarm when Trok suddenly cried out loud.
The last thing T'Pau saw of the event was how Trok was swallowed by the ground.