A to Z – the final blogging frontier…
Captain’s Log: April 3, 2016
These are the fan fiction voyages of the starship Enterprise (NX-01), the first Warp Five capable Terran craft. Humans are now able to explore strange new worlds, seek out new life and new civilizations, to boldly go….
I don’t own Enterprise or her crew. No monetary profit is gained from these stories. I just want to share my passion for these characters and their world.
Today, we’re in San Francisco, on an undisclosed but illicit mission with a young woman in dark clothes and a cowl…
Rated Pg-13 for suggestive themes; potential mild spoilers for Season One, Episode 17: “Fusion”.
This is a prequel-of-sorts to my April 1 “A” post, Arachnid Nebula.
If you enjoy this vignette, you can find the extended version here.
The slender young woman inhaled deeply, attempting with moderate success to calm herself as she approached her target. The business establishment was now just beyond visual range, if she remembered correctly from her only other illicit venture into San Francisco. It was possible that she was mistaken; she had been agitated, and therefore distracted by the risk, the fog, and by the unaccustomed Terran clothing that had served as disguise.
There had been changes, in the five weeks and three days since.
T’Pol found the cowl and clothing comforting, if not precisely comfortable. The long fitted jacket and snug leggings, worn over her insulating bodysuit, provided added warmth as this part of Earth tilted away from its sun. The requisite cowl still hampered peripheral vision by nearly five degrees in either direction, and further muffled sounds already distorted by the ambient water vapor her desert-evolved ears were not efficient at deciphering. However, it also disguised the fact that their pinnae ended in points.
On this world, that fact was an instant identifier. Of the thirty-two members of the indigenous species she had encountered during her explorations, only one had recognized her as Vulcan.
“Trip,” she whispered, startling herself into stopping. None of the four others on this tertiary street seemed concerned by her behavior. Perhaps they hadn’t heard her. Human ears were adapted for this climate, but she had learned before her arrival on their world that their auditory acuity was considerably limited in comparison to the typical Vulcan auditory range.
Still, caution was well advised. T’Pol stepped to the side, turning toward the window of a shop across the street from the one she wished to visit; Terrans seemed inclined to use this space as a means of advertising. There was a display containing various implements apparently intended for cooking in this window, as there had been worn and aged print books in the window of the establishment she had targeted.
T’Pol could see the bookseller’s store from here; approximately a hundred meters from where she stood. The window also revealed her own reflection, and it was that which kept her immobile. There was something in her own bearing that she didn’t recognize; something not precisely Vulcan in her expression. An intensity such as she had seen on the human faces around her.
Why had she come here? Was she motivated by logic, or emotion?
Her future had been determined in childhood. There was no need in that future for her to be here.
Five weeks and three days of intense meditation had not erased the compulsion to understand what she had imagined she felt, in the mind of the one human who had known her for what she was. Logic couldn’t explain it, but, as she touched the faint scars upon her trembling fingers, memories of flames rich nectars, and blue Terran eyes supplanted logic.
If you enjoyed today’s story, and want more charming C esCapades, check out other blogs on the #atozchallenge roster. There is a huge diversity to choose from, and I think that’s something T’Pol would find most agreeable, indeed.