NEW: TOS Sympathy for the Devil 1/6 [PG-13] (S/f, f/m)
Rabble Rouser
AUTHOR: Rabble Rouser
CONTACT: Rabbl...@aol.com
SERIES: TOS
RATING: [PG-13]
CODES: S/T'Pring, T'Pring/Stonn
PART: 1/6
DATE: October 12, 2000
SUMMARY: T'Pring tries to find a way out of a bond she does not want.
DISCLAIMER: Paramount controls the known Star Trek Universe. I can't even
control myself or this story would never have been written.
ARCHIVE: Yes at ASC/EM.
FEEDBACK: Yup.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS: This was inspired by Kathy Dailey's comment that she felt
sympathy for T'Pring. I owe a huge debt to my betas. To Jat-Sapphire both for
letting me borrow a bit of Vulcanology from "Still Amok" and for looking at
this when it was the draftiest of drafts, to Hafital, first and foremost for
reassuring me this was worth completing when I had lost faith in it, to Wildcat
who spent an incredibly generous amount of time helping me twist this into
shape, and to Jungle Kitty, who, among other things, helped enormously in fine
tuning my T'Pring.
* * *
It finally began. I was in the hospital cafeteria seated across from my
colleague Dr. Elizabeth Vielot when I felt the backwash of his desire shudder
through me. My betrothed is away a distance unimaginable from Vulcan yet I am
flooded with an arousal that is no way diminished. As that tide washed through
me, in my panic and shock I clenched the theris-masu mug in my hand. It
shattered with an explosive sound. I heard Liz cry out and she moved to my
side.
"T'Pring," she called softly. She stroked the back of my hand. "Let go," she
begged. I could see her swallow and the collapse of my shields allowed me to
feel a thread of fear from her touch. Of me? For me? "M'Benga--go get a
medikit--now," I heard her order. I looked down at my hand as if it belonged to
a stranger. It was dripping blood and spasmodically gripping the shards of the
mug.
Most Vulcans think Humans are weak. They would not think so if they knew Liz. I
looked up at those steady brown eyes and somewhere found enough strength of
will to loosen my grip. The human intern returned with a speed that earned him
a disdainful look or two. Only one or two, for most in the cafeteria were
ignoring us completely. Only Doctor Sorak stared at me a moment, then, as he
noticed me return his gaze, he paled and looked away. They knew. Little else
but what we were forbidden to even speak of would cause these symptoms in one
my age. I knew what Liz must be seeing. Pupils dilated and fixed on nothing.
Shudders passing through my body followed by a rigidity surpassing stone.
Usually when this time comes, we hide ourselves away from all prying eyes. This
had come upon me with no warning but I should not have been surprised. It has
always been so. The connection of the mind knows no distance. From the Time of
the Beginning, it has drawn those so connected together to the appointed place.
This is why we cannot speak of it even among ourselves. To be tied so to
another without control in a way that nothing can blunt save death is for us
the greatest of indignities.
I breathed rhythmically and tried to reassert control. There is no pain, I told
myself. But it is part of this time that we are stripped of all control
physical and mental. I gritted my teeth. I would not ask for a palliative and
brand myself as having no more self-mastery than a child. Liz yanked the shards
out of my palm. I could not stop myself from flinching. The two humans glanced
at each other in consternation at this further sign of my disintegration. I
felt the familiar beam of a protoplaser play over my palm knitting my cuts.
Next, Liz sprayed a numbing protective coat of biofilm over my hand. Then Liz
played her mediscanner over my form. I could see her scowl over the readings. I
placed my hand over the scanner.
"You must cease this now."
"Are you going to tell me what this is about?"
"No." I said tightly.
"No? We shall see."
I saw her lips compress into a thin line that boded trouble. It is easy to
underestimate humans. They signal so many of their intentions through their
voice and expression, you can forget that in their own way they can be as
controlled and determined as any Vulcan and their face as much a mask as any of
ours. And the very abundance of their expressions can hide their significance.
Liz told me she had no problem reading Vulcans and I believe her. She said that
because we let so little through what emotions we did allow expression shouted
at her like bold headlines across an otherwise blank sheet of paper. I did not
find it so easy to read her after years of shutting down such awareness, but I
was learning. I found that observing human nuances of expression only
strengthened my emotional control and taught me to know myself and my fellow
Vulcans better than years of training in the path.
Doctors Vielot and M'Benga were here on a medical exchange program between
Vulcan and Earth. As one trained as a Healer in the traditional ways as well as
a physician heading up Internal Medicine, I was charged with their training. It
was felt that an exchange of knowledge would be to our mutual advantage. But
there was one aspect of Vulcan biology we hid from their eyes.
I understood how illogical this was. But little of how we handled the ancient
call of blood to blood was logical. The customs and traditions we wrapped it in
came from before Surak and he knew better than to touch its irrational core. We
covered it with a silence that headed off any need for rationalization. Part of
me wanted to defy the taboo and tell Liz everything. It was not as if she would
be the first outworlder to know. No, the mother of my betrothed was the first
but not until she was sealed to the clan. For now I shook my head in denial and
rose newly composed. I inclined my head in the only sign of gratitude permitted
by our customs and walked away, but not before Liz shot some parting words of
challenge at my back.
"We'll discuss this later."
I continued on as if I did not hear. She had pitched her voice low but we both
knew it would not be beyond my hearing. As a woman, I know this heat is not my
own. It is the men who feel the fire. What I feel is but a tingling warmth to
his consuming flame. Women do not feel the plak tow. We are in comparison
untouched. It is what gives such women as T'Pau their power, that a woman
widowed or unbonded need not fear that conflagration and so can coolly step
aside and use only logic to decide the fate of others. It is why only women
keep the katra on Mount Seleya. It is why women control Gol. It is why women
like T'Pau rule Vulcan. But we pay a price.
I could rule if that is what I wished. The clan of Surak is the most powerful
on Vulcan. Spock would come to slake his heat in my body and depart, and I
would have his name and his property and would continue to be trained to rule
at T'Pau's side.
I do not wish to control others. I only want rulership over my own sphere. My
own body. My own life. The only way we are allowed to express feeling and
passion is through the bond. It is like being pregnant. When wanted, it is a
private, joyous sharing. "Parted from me and never parted. Never and always
touching and touched."
We hold that the rape of another mind is a crime higher than murder. And yet on
Vulcan, where the choice of consort is made for us, we are indulging in it
every day even if refusing to call it so. What else to call such an enforced
intimacy as this? When such a bond is unwanted, this condition is a betrayal by
your own body and a violation of all that you are. We do not speak of it so I
do not know if others of my race think of it this way. I only know that for me
it is so.
With time and privacy, I would try to reestablish my barriers and restore my
cool facade but after the ceremony binding us together I would never be the
same--would never belong to myself.
* * *
I went to my office and attempted to meditate on the flame. It was there rather
than home that I kept the Fire God idol given to me when Spock and I were
joined. Sprak'n--the ancient God of blood, war, flames, and desire. It is
ironic that we who follow Surak use as our focus for meditation the symbol of
all he sought to quench.
I took out an image of Stonn and attempted to meditate on his features, but the
more I concentrated the more his features blurred in front of me until all I
could picture was Spock. I cannot call Stonn while I am filled with lust for
another. I tried reaching Spock on the Enterprise but to no avail. Already I
could feel a tug pushing me toward the place of marriage or challenge. I knew I
had perhaps three days before I could resist that call no longer. After a
while, I gave up on the mind rules and took a sedative. It would not stop me
from feeling what Spock was sending to me, but I hoped drugging myself would
allow me to care less.
I started on my rounds hoping it would provide distraction. Liz intercepted me.
"T'Pring, I don't think this is a good idea for you or your patients. We have
to talk." She took me by the arm and I saw her eyes widen in surprise at my
trembling. She briskly walked me to her office. I acquiesced rather than create
a scene. I know when Liz will not be diverted.
"I recognized the symptoms I found on the mediscanner. I've seen them before
and whenever I do, the patient is hustled away. I saved some of that blood of
yours and ran a scan. Your blood has a mess of hormones in it--again like those
patients that disappear from M'Benga's and my sight. Do you know what I think?"
"Not without a meld," I snapped, "and I do not feel up to one so I would
appreciate it if you would explain as concisely and quickly as possible."
"Keme and I weren't born yesterday. We found it suspicious that the whole
subject of sex is absent not just in conversation but in our training here.
Plus--you forgot to lock us out of the data on admissions and autopsies. There
are too many young women who come here savaged--looking as if they are brutally
raped even though we are told primly when we ask that there is no rape or
domestic violence on Vulcan. And every once in a while we get a male who looks
like his own hormones did him in. And you know Keme has actually troubled
himself to learn Vulcan--even archaic High Vulcan--and has come across some
interesting reading materials you don't even bother to censor because you're so
sure no outworlder will ever puzzle them out. You're in pon farr--and if it
wasn't for your age I would guess it was your first."
I was rendered speechless. The sound that came out of my throat next shocked
both of us. Laughter that choked back on itself. "I can see T'Pau was right.
Vulcans cannot allow humans among us. You are meddling in matters that are none
of your affair." Liz's intent stare told me that my rebuke would not deter her.
My laughter had only served to confirm that something was terribly wrong.
"T'Pring, you may not like this but right now I don't give a shit. I care about
you. I'm not about to stand by and let anything happen to you." Liz took my
shoulder and began to shake me. "Talk to me."
I pushed her away so violently she was thrown to the floor. I dropped to my
knees. "Liz, are you injured?"
I helped her to stand up and she waved me away when I tried to help her into a
chair. "I'm all right. Just got the breath knocked out of me. Serves me right
for trying that on a Vulcan in your condition."
"No condition of mine is a sufficient excuse."
"T'Pring, I'm your friend. I'm also a physician. I took an oath as ancient and
solemn as yours not to divulge what I see or hear in that capacity. I give you
my word that I will reveal to no one--not even Dr. M'Benga--anything you tell
me unless you release me from that promise."
I turned my back to her. I could not face her as I said this. "It is my first."
"And?" Liz prodded me.
"The condition is induced by the male and is not as strongly felt in the female
since the cause is indirect." I licked my lips nervously, a habit I thought I
had long suppressed. I tried to think of Liz only as a fellow physician and
make this a report of a diagnosis like any other. "My disturbance is
more...emotional than physical from feeling the impact of his...arousal in my
own body." Liz was closer to me than anyone living save Stonn, and yet it took
much effort to force out each word.
"Even that," Liz said gently, "must be greatly disturbing. I would say the
cause is sufficient."
"It usually comes upon us for the first time in late adolescence. My betrothed
is a Vulcan-human hybrid. I began to believe his hybrid physiology would spare
us this--that the pon farr would never happen."
"Spock--your childhood friend? The one who wound up on the Enterprise?" I
turned at that and responded to her grin with a lifted eyebrow. "Well, what
you've said practically gives it away. There aren't that many Vulcan-Human
hybrids I know of and certainly no others of the right age. You know, I've
gotten the feeling that the man's practically a legend on Vulcan. Why haven't
you ever told me?"
I did not respond to that, and as the silence lengthened, Liz's smile faded. "I
don't understand. Why aren't you bonded to Stonn? It's obvious--"
"Spock and I were promised to each other as children. The wedding will take
place as soon as Spock arrives. There is no divorce on Vulcan. The tie can only
be broken through a challenge at the marriage ceremony."
"What do you mean? Some kind of legal challenge?"
"No. It has not been invoked in centuries, but it is my right. I can choose a
champion to fight him, which will result in the victor claiming me as
property."
"Victor? Property? What kind of fight?"
"To the death." For a moment Liz drew back. Her face fluxed as if it could not
decide upon an expression. Finally, it settled into a blankness a Kolinahr
master would envy. I could imagine her thoughts. Indeed, after much time with
her I thought I could hear her thoughts: We of Vulcan, with all our ethical
self-righteousness, employed a custom of such thorough barbarism?
"Is there no alternative?"
"Vulcan has sought none. We are told there are always possibilities but in this
we are not allowed to speak, not allowed to question. There has been no medical
research attempting to cure pon farr, and precious little exists to ameliorate
any of the symptoms." I leaned against the wall and tried not to give in to the
urge to pace.
"That is not logical."
"No, it is not."
"And Stonn. Would he serve as your champion?"
"I would never ask it of him. Liz, I know not what to do. I do not seek Spock's
death. I simply want to be left alone." I felt a need to jump out of my skin
and could not stand still any longer. I wanted to break something. Instead I
began to walk back and forth along the length of the room.
"Can't you ask Spock to let you go? Come to a private understanding?"
I remained silent.
"T'Pring, you can't show up there without speaking to him! I don't like your
choices. You can't tie yourself to a man you don't love for the rest of your
life."
"Such considerations do not enter into a Vulcan's calculations," I said dryly.
"Bullshit. You can't marry him. There has to be a way around this without
throwing away Spock's life. Maybe he can find another partner. Maybe you could
go offworld."
"Liz, it is already too late. By the time the woman feels symptoms in her own
body, the male is beyond reason and self-control. He could never give me up
now. Besides, I did try reaching the ship. A Lieutenant Uhura tells me he is
not answering her hail. I can only assume he is refusing to communicate with
me."
"Can you reach him through the link? I assume you are linked in some way or
what he feels wouldn't be affecting you."
"We were linked at seven but it is not a deep bond. Only enough so that we'd be
drawn together to the appointed place at the appropriate time. I cannot know
his thoughts without a meld. That would ordinarily be the case even in a true
marriage bond. I only feel enough to know he is alive, to know he is coming
closer, and to know that he lusts." I could not keep from shuddering and I sat
before my legs gave way.
"And that terrifies you."
"He is a stranger. And he has let things go so far that by the time he reaches
me he will be beyond controlling the violence of his passions. Yes, I am
afraid. Does it make you happy, to hear me admit to that?" I asked bitterly. I
looked down at my trembling hands and clenched them into fists.
"No, it makes me very afraid for you."
"It is our custom that the bride be accompanied by her closest friends. I would
like you to be there." I hoped Liz could hear my apology for lashing out at her
in that request--and the acknowledgment of what our friendship meant to me that
I had never before quite voiced.
"I'll be there."
After Liz left to see a patient, I returned to my own office to call Stonn for
all the good that would do me. I have never had any real control over my fate.
That was sealed for both Spock and me when we were seven years old.
* * *
I cannot remember when I first met Spock, for that would be like asking when
you first met your parent or older sibling. We grew up near each other's
households in Shi'kahr. My mother was Healer to their Household and a frequent
companion of Spock's mother, Amanda. Amanda for her part, continued to teach
Terran music as she had on Earth. Terran music is highly prized on Vulcan. One
of my earliest memories is of Amanda correcting my fingering on the violin
during my music lessons. At three that was one of the few tactile contacts I
was permitted with another.
Spock, at three, would be seen in the courtyard poking the soil with a stick to
better observe the insect life. He would sit still for hours. Even then his
powers of concentration were uncanny. His parents ensured he was proficient in
the Vulcan lyre, but the true instruments of his choice were the computer and
his home-made sensor array that he put together at five and with which he would
examine T'Kuht and the other planets and the stars.
His pursuits were solitary although not entirely by his choice. By the time he
was five, his older half-brother, Sybok, was already creating controversy as a
student at the VSA with his heretical beliefs. There were whispers of a taint
in the blood, and people pointed to Sarek's choice of a human as a second wife
as confirmation. Even the adults considered Spock doubly tainted, and when
their children taunted him against all the precepts of logic and IDIC, they did
nothing to discipline them.
I remember once when we were both six. Spock came scrambling over the wall. I
could hear the jeers of his pursuers. His tunic was torn and soiled, the
streaks of tears marked his face, and his lip was split and bleeding. At that
time he had less control than the usual Vulcan of his age, which was taken as
evidence of the weakness of his human blood, and only increased the harassment
and his isolation from his peers.
I suspect that it was not his biological heritage, especially considering his
later mastery. Amanda resisted Spock's complete inculcation into the path.
Spock's father, Sarek, would admonish Spock for betraying emotion in his voice
and thus not acting Vulcan. Next Amanda would attempt to coax a smile from
Spock and lament he was not acting Human. Between the two of them, they were
cleaving Spock in two.
"Spock, come with me." I took him by the hand and led him to the courtyard
pool. I dipped my kerchief in the water and used it to wipe the tears and blood
from his face. I said nothing more but tried to let my calmness settle him
before Amanda or Sarek saw us. Amanda would cry and make a fuss and arouse the
entire household into a pitch. What Sarek's reaction would be to Spock's tears
was not one I cared to contemplate.
"They say I am not truly Vulcan but am of human blood," he said, his lower lip
trembling.
"Humans bleed red," I said pointing out the obvious. "And after all both your
mother and Mozart are human," I added as if that settled the question.
I was oblivious to the contradiction in both assuring him he was not human and
that being human was not anything for which he should feel shame. I was also of
the belief that any people who produced Mozart should be absolved of any other
fault. Had I the sophistication, I would have argued that it was not logical to
taunt someone for their nature. Moreover, to taunt him for being human or not
being Vulcan was not in keeping with Surak's teachings on IDIC. But such a
philosophical understanding was beyond me then and I had never heard the adults
such as Sarek argue so.
He restrained my arm and took the cloth out of my hand. He dipped it into the
pool and wrung it a little, then held it to his swelling lip. The presence of
open water on the estate was one of the many indications of this household's
wealth and position. Even as I had made extravagant use of the water, part of
me had inwardly cringed.
"My father says he is going to approach yours about betrothing us," Spock said.
I could see him swallow convulsively. He looked down at the ground.
I could not have withheld my reassurance and acceptance any more than I could
deny myself music. Spock was the chief companion of my days. He was teaching me
to pick out the different stars in our skies. I in turn would go over with him
a music manuscript of Brahms or Mozart.
I held out my two middle fingers to him in the gesture I had seen so many
grownup couples make. "That would be greatly pleasing to me and a great honor.
It would mean we would never part. I would never reject you."
We of Vulcan have gifts that seem to be denied humans. We have some telepathic
abilities and have an unerring sense of time and place. But we have no
precognition. I could not know how my words as a small child would reverberate
through the years. It is not a mercy that our memories are so keen.
Spock looked up at me shyly and his eyes shone with his joy at such an
acceptance. Slowly he held out his own two fingers and touched mine and a wide
smile lit his face.
"Spock!" We looked up and drew quickly apart. It was Sarek. Spock had after all
not been undone by his tears but by his smile. I still remember that smile
vividly. It was the last such smile he ever permitted himself in my presence.
End of Part One
_ _ _
Story Page
http://www.geocities.com/rabble_rouser_st/
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
--T.S. Eliot
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
J Winter
assumptions about T'Pring and T'Pau and just turned them upside down,
inside out (There's a Yes song in that somewhere. <G>) and left them
lying in a heap at the feet of a few new ideas. Who'd have thought that
Stonn was a brilliant musician. We always assume that T'Pring was just
a cold-hearted manipulator. I also like that T'Pau gets painted as
something less than the noble elder she's generally painted as.
Excellent work.
-------
J
USS Alliance Homepage: http://w3.one.net/~tribeguy/alliance/allhome.htm
"Ziggy played sitar, jiving us that he was Hindu."
Rabble Rouser
You know--I don't understand why T'Pau is usually treated with kid gloves. The
first thing out of her mouth is a bigoted statement ab. "outworlders" and to me
it's telling she's the only person to have ever turned down a seat on the
Federation Council. I think of her as the Vulcan Pat Buchanan<eg>
T'Pring at her worse is within her rights and trying to protect her man.
Audacious in her challenge and with her choice of Kirk "changing the conditions
of the test" Like a good lawyer;) (and btw she never says anything that could
be taken as xenophobic--her only complaint ab. Spock is that she doesn't "wish
to be the consort of a legend.")
But T'Pau is supposed to be acting like a judge. An impartial power who's
supposed to be fair to all sides, enforce the rules, and fully inform the
parties. With all the explaining she does of Vulcan custom she neglects to
tell Kirk that little detail ab. the fight being to the death? Ooops. Then when
they object she threatens McCoy and says that the challenge has been lawfully
given and accepted and has begun--leaving Kirk with no choice but to begin to
defend himself! Spock says she has the power to forbid--but she doesn't.
Something smells there. Like a setup.
I think people are fooled bec. T'Pring's demeanor throughout is haughty, cold,
even bitter--at times she almost seems to be enjoying herself--while T'Pau has
these nice little lines like "Spock chose his friends wisely" and "I grieve
with thee" and she gives McCoy permission to "give Kirk a fighting chance"
(Right--in that climate and gravity with the strength differential and proven
lack of familiarity with the weapons--she can afford to be "magnaminous" the
fix was in) Well--given that she's "Vulcan in one package" she's a
politician--what do you expect?
Hands down I think T'Pau is by far the more chilling figure and I'm surprised
she usually gets off so easy in fanfic.
This is not to say that I think "my" T'Pring and Stonn are the "real"
ones--although they could be more than people realize--after all Vulcans are
above all masters of the mask and you can't judge someone from one act and a
few lines of dialogue. Still, I suspect the "real" T'Pring *is* more ruthless,
manipulative, and bitter than I've painted her for the purpose of this story.
But T'Pau a noble elder? Like Hell!
J Winter
I think she's more like Vladimir Putin, ruthless, wary of outworlders
(in Vlad's case the EU and US), but the right person for the job. Of
course, neither T'Pau nor Putin would last five minutes running for
chief of state in, say, Britain or Germany or America.
But I like the way she's sort of a stick in the mud, and that the
younger crowd (No doubt Sarek is among them) will probably start
stripping away a lot of Vulcan dogma. And why not Sarek as the
maverick? He marries a human - twice, has his son quite literally
ressurected by pre-Surak means, and this is a man who openly (if subtly)
displayed anger, grief, admiration, and, what I love in a Vulcan, a
sense of humor. (I think Spock's human half is too stiff for a sense of
humor. I firmly believe his Vulcan nature - but not his training -
generates that.)
What annoys me, mostly in profic, is that whenever a Vulcan is seen on
screen as showing anything resembling an emotion, especially humor, the
author seems to have to take it upon themselves to overwrite the simple
explanation (Gee, maybe Sarek really did think it was funny.) out of the
equation. The movie novelizations are the worst for this. Sometimes, I
think, writers get more dogmatic about Vulcans than T'Pau could hope to
be on a dark, rainy day with a hangover and scorching heartburn. (You,
of course, did not do that here. Thank you.)
But that's just my opinion. I could be wrong. <G>
--
J
USS Alliance - http://w3.one.net/~tribeguy/alliance/allhome.htm
Rabble Rouser
>screen as showing anything resembling an emotion, especially humor, the
>author seems to have to take it upon themselves to overwrite the simple
>think, writers get more dogmatic about Vulcans than T'Pau could hope to
>be on a dark, rainy day with a hangover and scorching heartburn. (You,
>of course, did not do that here. Thank you.)>But that's just my opinion. I
could be wrong. <G>>
For what it's worth I agree with you. My old beta Jat-Sapphire used to say
that too many writers lose the contractions and put in a "logical" and think
they got Vulcans--forgetting they're individuals too.
I for one am very glad you don't write that way. If you had--T'Parr and Sekar
would have never ome alive as characters.
selek
| But I like the way she's sort of a stick in the mud, and that
the
| younger crowd (No doubt Sarek is among them) will probably
start
| stripping away a lot of Vulcan dogma. And why not Sarek as the
| maverick? He marries a human - twice, has his son quite
literally
| ressurected by pre-Surak means, and this is a man who openly
(if subtly)
| displayed anger, grief, admiration, and, what I love in a
Vulcan, a
| sense of humor. (I think Spock's human half is too stiff for a
sense of
| humor. I firmly believe his Vulcan nature - but not his
training -
| generates that.)
|
seen on
| screen as showing anything resembling an emotion, especially
humor, the
| author seems to have to take it upon themselves to overwrite
the simple
out of the
| equation. The movie novelizations are the worst for this.
| think, writers get more dogmatic about Vulcans than T'Pau could
hope to
| be on a dark, rainy day with a hangover and scorching
heartburn. (You,
| of course, did not do that here. Thank you.)
|
| But that's just my opinion. I could be wrong. <G>
|
| J
I think Sarek is quite emotional for a Vulcan. After all, look
at the impassioned plea he makes to Kirk while he's looking for
Spock's katra. First, he's as angry as we've ever seen him
("Spare me your human platitudes"), then the grieving father.
("Then everything he was, everything he knew...is lost"). Maybe
when T'Rea divorced him, no other Vulcan woman would have him as
he had "gone native" after serving on Earth for so long.
Selek
Jungle Kitty
> I think Sarek is quite emotional for a Vulcan. After all, look
> at the impassioned plea he makes to Kirk while he's looking for
> Spock's katra. First, he's as angry as we've ever seen him
> ("Spare me your human platitudes"), then the grieving father.
> ("Then everything he was, everything he knew...is lost"). Maybe
> when T'Rea divorced him, no other Vulcan woman would have him as
> he had "gone native" after serving on Earth for so long.
I think this is an illustration of the way I think Vulcans are. They do
have emotions; they just don't express them overtly as humans do. I can
see Sarek's grief and anger in the above, but he doesn't let it run away
from him as many humans would do in similar situations.
--
Jungle Kitty
http://www.accesscom.com/~jkitty
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Sexy Evil Marnie: You were so loving last night.
SEM's Husband: I was on drugs.
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selek
news:39EB258E...@accesscom.com...
| selek wrote:
|
| > I think Sarek is quite emotional for a Vulcan. After all,
look
| > at the impassioned plea he makes to Kirk while he's looking
for
| > Spock's katra. First, he's as angry as we've ever seen him
| > ("Spare me your human platitudes"), then the grieving father.
| > ("Then everything he was, everything he knew...is lost").
Maybe
| > when T'Rea divorced him, no other Vulcan woman would have him
as
| > he had "gone native" after serving on Earth for so long.
|
| I think this is an illustration of the way I think Vulcans are.
They do
| have emotions; they just don't express them overtly as humans
do. I can
| see Sarek's grief and anger in the above, but he doesn't let it
run away
| from him as many humans would do in similar situations.
| --
| Jungle Kitty
| http://www.accesscom.com/~jkitty
Yes, he has emotions, but he is not mastered by them.
Selek