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Though he was not one given to making such facial expressions often, Spock smiled slightly as he looked out upon the garden in the courtyard. Here, in the home of his trusted and long-time mentor, T’Pol, Spock felt safe enough to allow for some slight expression of emotion. He always felt…content…when he was here, in this garden, for one reason or another.
He sat down upon a bench that sat against the wall of T’Pol’s private courtyard. He stroked a hand over the warm surface of the stone bench, taking a moment to appreciate the smoothness of the polished granite surface.
Again Spock smiled slightly when he noticed that T’Pol had set a tri-dimensional chess board on the surface of the bench. The carved pieces of white and black alabaster were already waiting, set up for play.
How well his mentor, his savensu, knew him.
Most of the time Spock chose to maintain his relationship-of-many-years with T’Pol through subspace communication channels. It was really the only way that it was possible, serving as he did on the Enterprise. There simply were not enough opportunities for Spock to visit the retired Starfleet admiral here on Vulcan.
But whenever there was a matter that was truly troubling on his mind…whenever the matter was simply too delicate to be handled over the impersonal medium of a subspace communication channel…that was when Spock made the trip back to Vulcan, to visit his mentor in her home.
T’Pol knew full well that this was the case with her mentee, her orensu: it had been a pattern that Spock had followed consistently since their initial meeting, when Spock had made his first visit to her home as a youth, seeking advice on whether or not he should apply to Starfleet Academy.
He had also come to her home once, after his first year at the Academy, asking her questions about the Vulcan katra.
And now Spock had come to her home again, after all of these years, after serving on the Enterprise with Captain James T. Kirk for almost five years.
Whenever Spock came to T’Pol’s home, they always played a game of chess. There was something about that game, something that T’Pol knew somehow enabled him to lower the emotional defenses that were built after a lifetime of emotional suppression. Spock was always able to talk about subjects that troubled him on an emotional level whenever he played chess.
And so, whenever Spock came to her home, T’Pol always knew to have the chess board ready and waiting.
“Live long and prosper, Spock.” T’Pol spoke the words quietly as she walked through the gateway into her garden.
Spock lifted up his right hand, his fingers splitting down the middle to form the V-shape of the ta’al. “Peace and long life, T’Pol.”
After exchanging the initial greeting, Spock instantly rose to assist his mentor. T’Pol was quite elderly: her back had hunched somewhat with age, and she walked with the assistance of a carved bamboo cane. He took from her left hand a tray that bore two plates and a pair of forks.
“I am gratified that you prepared pecan pie in anticipation of my visit, savensu.”
T’Pol tipped her head forward in acknowledgement of the statement. “I recalled that you enjoyed the dessert during your last visit to my home, my orensu. I am pleased to offer it to you once again.”
Pecan pie: though it was a food of Terran origins, through many years of eating the sweet, T’Pol had discovered that the act of consuming the dessert had a strangely cathartic effect on the Vulcan nervous system. It was an observation and a habit that she was pleased to see that she had managed to pass on to Spock.
T’Pol sat down on the bench, on the opposite side of the chess board from Spock. She leaned her cane against the courtyard wall and accepted one of the plates of pecan pie that Spock held out for her. They ate in silence, and then afterwards began their game of chess.
“What brings you to my home today, Spock?”
Spock’s fingers floated to one of his white pawns. “I come seeking your council on a deeply personal matter, savensu.”
T’Pol moved one of her black knights, smiling slightly to herself. “I know. It is always so, when you come to visit me.” Always Spock came to her. She was, in a way, Spock’s knight – always coming to his aide when his need was greatest, helping him when no other could.
“I find myself looking down two different paths, unsure of which to take.” Spock’s fingers picked up his white queen, but he put the piece down before actually moving it.
“Please elaborate, my orensu.”
Spock’s fingers played with his white king. “There is an individual, someone with whom I have served for many years…I have come to respect this person, to value his opinion above all others…” Spock looked quickly up from the board. “…excepting yours, of course…”
“Of course…”
“…and I find that now, after these years with him, that I have developed certain…emotional feelings…for him. What’s more, I believe it is possible that he also possesses similar feelings towards myself.”
“I believe that I comprehend your difficulty, Spock.”
Spock nodded slowly. “I find myself wondering what to do in regards to this situation. I have resisted pursuing a course of action for a great length of time now.” His fingers drifted away from the white king and moved towards one of his white rooks. “Starfleet regulations strictly forbid such fraternization between senior officers of the same ship.”
T’Pol watched as Spock finally moved the rook. Ah yes, the rook, here representing the expectations of society, Starfleet regulations. Such rules and expectations were the strong pillars that held them all up. Without a strong pillar, the entire framework of life collapsed.
T’Pol moved one of her black knights. “You question the wisdom of acting in violation of those regulations.”
“I place great value in them. They are the basis of for a code of behavior, a code which I believe is an honorable one.”
“Without a doubt, that honorable code of behavior is one of the guiding principles of Starfleet. It has helped to mold and shape Starfleet into a strong institution, one filled with noble principles.”
Spock’s fingers moved one of his white bishops. “I have allowed those principles to guide my own career in Starfleet. I would not be who I am today, without their influence.”
The bishop: a career of service, a life of values and principles.
“And so you wonder if it is possible to act against a set of principles that you value, that have become the rock bed of your own life...”
Again Spock nodded. “Yes,” he answered softly. He looked at his mentor, a quiet pain held in his chocolate eyes. In all his life, he had never felt so conflicted.
“It is a difficult choice, my orensu. You do indeed stand at the fork between two paths. One path is the path that you have always known, formed and shaped by regulations and a relationship with an individual that is based upon friendship. This is a path that is well worn, clearly marked and easy to follow.”
Once again T’Pol moved one of her black knights. It was funny how she rarely needed to use other pieces, strangely enough. “And the other path is much less clear, much less worn. It is a path that takes you away from the framework that you now operate in and asks you to open your relationship to new and wonderful possibilities.”
“Yes.” Spock pressed his lips together, his upper lip rolling against his lower lip. “Is it possible for us…for Vulcans…to bridge that gap? To set aside the teachings of childhood and be able to embrace, in some precious fashion, the emotions that will arise in such a relationship?”
T’Pol looked out across her garden, which was loosely based upon a Japanese Zen garden. “Spock, does the design of this garden still confuse you, as it once did, when you were a cadet?”
Spock directed his eyes to the neatly pruned trees and the small bed of raked and crushed white granite. “I have never been able to comprehend why you choose to keep this garden in your home, savensu. A Terran garden does not befit a Vulcan of your rank and esteem.”
“As you are of course aware, I served for many years with an exceptional group of individuals aboard the NX-01. When I first became a member of her crew, I was frequently confused by my human companions. Their ways and their emotions were foreign to me, almost to the point of making them incomprehensible.”
T’Pol shook her head slowly from side to side, almost as if she were amused. “Without a doubt, the most emotional member of the crew was the ship’s communications officer, Hoshi Sato. If there was a single member of the crew whose wild swings of emotion caused me to wonder at human society as a whole, Hoshi was that person.”
T’Pol moved one of her black pawns. “She often sought out my council, and I helped to guide her in meditation so that she might learn to control the strongest of her emotional outbursts. In the years that we served together, I would like to think that I helped Hoshi to become a more stable individual. It would be unfair to Hoshi, however, to say that this was a friendship whose benefits moved only in one direction. As I taught her to control her emotions, she helped me to explore my own. She became a bridge, in essence, to help me move from the point of who I was to the point of who I was to become.”
Again T’Pol directed her gaze out at the garden. “I keep this garden, a cultural product of Hoshi’s Japanese origins, in my home to honor that relationship. It serves me as a reminder of that bridge. So yes, Spock, I believe that it is possible for Vulcans to find and explore new emotions.”
Spock moved one of his white bishops. “As a cadet, I recall reading in the personal memoirs which you gave to me, that you described a connection which you felt for another member of the crew, Charles Tucker III.”
Trip.
T’Pol’s eyes drifted away from her garden, towards the empty plates which had, until a few minutes ago, held pieces of pecan pie. “Yes.”
“Please, if I cross a boundary, moving to a place in which you do not wish to answer…I do not wish to violate your privacy.”
T’Pol lifted the gaze of her eyes. “No…we may speak of this, as it bears strongly on your situation.”
“Then you did feel…you did desire…to explore that relationship? To move it from one based in friendship into one based upon romantic desires?”
“Yes, I did. As did Trip, I believe.”
“But you chose not to do so?”
“Correct. Once I stood where you stand now, Spock, facing two different paths. I chose the path of regulations, of order. I chose, as did Trip, to maintain our relationship as one based upon friendship.”
Spock fingered his white queen again, but still did not move it across the board. “You told me once that the reason why you serve pecan pie is because you became fond of it during your tour on the Enterprise. You said that a friend introduced it to you.”
Spock’s fingers drifted to his white king. “Pecan pie is a food which originates in the south eastern section of what used to be the United States. As I recall from your memoirs, you wrote that Charles Tucker was from Florida.”
“Yes.”
“He was the one who introduced you to pecan pie, wasn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“You served on the Enterprise for many years – nearly two decades. Charles Tucker was killed during the ship’s tenth year of service. And still, all of these many years later, you eat pecan pie and serve it to the honored guests of your home.”
“I serve it to honor him. It is all that I have left of him now, because I chose not to bond with him.”
Spock tilted his head slightly to one side. He was quiet for a minute, taking the time to organize his thoughts. “You regret this decision, the choice that you and he made, not to become bondmates?”
“Regret is one of the most powerful emotions that exists, my orensu.” T’Pol spoke softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “It is one which I hope you never have cause to experience, as we Vulcans have so many years to live in the course of our lives. I have regretted the decision that I made for over one hundred years, and I will continue to regret that decision until the day of my death.”
T’Pol reached across the chess board, lifting Spock’s white queen and king from the board. She placed them together in his right hand. “In your left hand, you hold the world that you have always known, the framework of your current reality. In your right hand, you hold the world that you might have, if you are brave enough to seek out an entirely new framework, an entirely new reality. Make your choice carefully, my orensu.”
Spock’s soft chocolate eyes gazed for a long time upon T’Pol. “Thank you, savensu, for speaking of these private matters with me today. I am grateful that you have chosen to share so openly with me your feelings.”
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Not so long after Spock’s visit, after he had returned to the Enterprise, Spock sent T’Pol a message. There were no words in the message; it was only an image. It was an image of a white queen and a white king standing together on a tri-dimensional chess board. There were no other pieces on the board.
T’Pol understood immediately that Spock had chosen to bond with Jim.
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And, many years after that, Spock told her that he and Jim were going to marry in a private ceremony.
The timing of the wedding ceremony was not good. T’Pol had been ill for a long time. She knew, in all likelihood, that she was not going to be able to attend the wedding of her orensu to his bondmate. In fact, she was certain that she would die before the arrival of that important date.
T’Pol chose to send her wedding gift to Spock and Jim early, just to be sure.
She sent them a tri-dimensional chess board.
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