I am basing my stories uponStar Trek: Enterprise, and the intriguing interspecies relationship between T’Pol of Vulcan and Trip Tucker, who is very, very human.
POTENTIAL SPOILER ALERT!
Today’s Story A Day prompt is to write a story focused on “An Ending and A Beginning ”.
Home is a pivotal episode for T’Pol and Trip, as T’Pol is herded into the marriage arranged when she and her fiance, Koss, were children. She’s come to Vulcan with Trip, who remains to support her as she makes a choice that hurts them both.
On her way to kneel with Koss for the ceremony, T’Pol clasps Trip’s hand, pulling him back for a moment, so that she can stand on tiptoes and kiss his cheek.
I extrapolated a story that explores the ceremony and the immediate aftermath, and proposes that T’Pol gave Trip a small gift in remembrance.
The prompt was open-ended; the wedding itself is an ending, and a beginning…experienced by three people deeply affected by it.
This story is long – over 6500 words, and I think it wandered more than it will. I did some moderate revision, and know that it could have been 10,000 words or more, if the day had stretched longer! =D
It was a great place to end this story – for now. But I will be back, to begin the next phase, before too long!
A young woman knelt upon the pressed sands of her homeworld, her fingers lifting to cross to the precise center of the table. The man across from her mirrored the first posture, but their fingers hovered just at the range at which the bioelectric pulses could be sensed – the prelude to the joining. He felt – strange. Too calm; too still. She was required to meet the man’s blue eyes, but it was difficult to do so. She was aware of a deep, illogical desire to refuse, to rise, to flee…to burst into tears that would be understood by only one person here.
She was a Vulcan. She would not cry.
A little off, a man stood in borrowed finery, watching. He watched her fingers lift, in concert with the man. He wondered what she felt; was it different than what she felt with him? Was it better, with a Vulcan man – a man of her own people? He could only see her face in a thin slice of profile, made misty by the sheer cowl. She’d worn a cowl the first time he saw her, too – but he’d known. He was aware of an almost desperate need to charge across this damned sand garden, grab her, run away, pull out a communicator he didn’t have and demand a beamup from a ship that was 16 light-years away, in Spacedock. Instead, he stood there, and watched her preparing to sacrifice herself.
He was on Vulcan. He wouldn’t cry.
Aesthetically, she was beautiful. Almost, illogically, he could imagine that she had been sculpted by a master. He was privileged to have the chance to combine her genetics with his own. So his parents had declared, since they were children, and chosen for one another. He, however, was uncertain it was enough. Ought children not be raised in a home where a certain affection – or at the least regard? – existed between their parents, where both were available to them? He could feel the resistance, the distance, that separated them; she would never feel other than a stranger to him, and she wanted nothing more of him. In truth, she wanted this as little as he did. Perhaps he should end this, now, before the next posture began.
They were Vulcan. They must try.
You can find all of my May Challenge stories at my “official” Story a Day blog. My commentary on the process of creating these stories is here.
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