Chapter 8: New Experiences

First Minister T'Pau stood on the Bridge of the ambassadorial courier T'Klaas and watched 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 First 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 of letting it die in agony. She would have to consult with krei T'Pol to find 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 a 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 signs of respect or reverence other than those they used routinely among themselves, in order to afford her 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 at least a partially suitable explanation for every case of T'Pol's allegedly deviant behavior. Soval had even gone as far as to postulate that T'Pol might well be the one contemporary Vulcan who came closest to the spiritual idea of a Vulcan personality described in Surak's 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 over his emotions that would be worthy of a Vulcan. He was the one in need of her help to overcome his fear of water, the one emotion he could apparently not master.

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 tinkered 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, whenever Soval came aboard," Hoshi needled him with a grin.

"Ha, ha," Trip mocked her 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.

"Okay, Malcolm, 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..."

"Calm down, Trip," the Brit 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 gray cat suits 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 changed 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. Was it 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 through the bond.

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 I am on duty. 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.

"Our 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 at the mission room beforehand? We need to go over some schematics for project EM."

"Be there in ten," 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 resonated 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 her 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," Hoshi said. "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," 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 probably scared the girl shitless."

"Calm down, Trip," T'Pol ordered sternly. "I admit the Eldest Mother's approach was fairly heavy-handed, 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 over thirty years?" Trip snorted sarcastically. "Wait till you see her in that cat suit. How could she have missed that she looks quite a deal better than most 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 sixty years before that?"