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Late Night Contemplation

By their nature, humans were diurnal instead of nocturnal. T'Pol decided to make use of that fact and had come to the deflector control room at 0330. Opening one of the portals, she sank onto a stool and selected the brightest of the stars before her.

Focus, she began reciting to herself as she had so many times before. Become aware of the rhythm of your breathing. In. Out. There is only the flame and your breath.

Ordinarily, of course, she would have used a flame in her quarters. On human ships, though, the use of open flames was banned. That included meditation candles.

The star was an adequate substitute, but she felt the lack of a flame (and privacy) keenly. Among the other things she considered less than satisfactory, she'd had to remain in her uniform instead of changing into looser clothing.

Focus, she told herself more emphatically. You are becoming distracted by your surroundings. There is only the flame and your breath. In. Out. In. Out.

The door to deflector control slid open behind her. Footsteps echoed in the darkness. She needed only a moment to identify her companion based on the unique rhythm of his gait:

Captain Archer.

In that space between moments, she waited for him to speak. She could imagine the sarcastic tone. Checking up on our deflector technology, Sub-Commander? Perhaps you might consider sharing those Vulcan shields? Oh, wait, I should know better. We humans aren't ready for those, are we?

He said nothing. Instead, he moved to another of the portals and opened it, leaning against the sill and looking out at the stars.

Focus, she told herself. If he chooses to address you, he will do so. If he chooses not to address you, he will not. You cannot choose his action; you can only choose your response. For now, concentrate on the flame and your breath.

Closing her eyes, she imagined the flames she would see if she were closer to her chosen star. She brought to mind the scent of her favorite meditation candle, which had remained in her quarters at the Vulcan Consulate during this brief errand to Qo'Nos.

They'd dropped Klaang off earlier in the day and were on their return trip to Earth. She would be able to meditate with her candles tomorrow evening, rather than needing to find a substitute aboard this cool ship crewed by such loud humans.

At the other portal, Captain Archer took a deep breath. T'Pol spared a brief glance sideways. His face, bathed in the starlight from the window, had taken on a thoughtful expression, and his eyes had gone distant. If she didn't know better, she might think he was meditating as well.

On some Vulcan ships, portions of the observation areas were reserved for meditation. While it was impossible to meditate in privacy in such surroundings, protocol dictated that one did not address those who were engaged in the practice.

The etiquette on this human ship was less than clear. T'Pol elected to maintain the Vulcan practice unless and until circumstances dictated otherwise.

There is only the flame and your breath. In. Out. In. Out.

She was uncertain of exactly how much time passed, which was not unusual during her nightly meditation routine. Experience had taught her that she would complete it before she had to report for duty the next day. Beyond that, it was unimportant whether she spent twenty minutes or three hours.

Because her eyes were closed, she was unaware that Captain Archer's gaze had shifted until she heard him speak her name. T'Pol blinked herself back to external awareness. "Captain?"

His voice was soft, though not without the acerbic edge it usually held when addressing her. It was much milder than usual, however. "Your quarters not good enough for sleeping, Sub-Commander?"

"I was not sleeping," she said simply, feeling centered by the series of mental exercises she had already completed. "I was merely considering the stars."

"Meditating, maybe?"

She glanced over at him. She had not expected him to know any more about Vulcans than the strictly necessary. "Yes. Were you aware that this is a common Vulcan practice?"

"Actually, I wasn't," he answered. "It was just a guess. Many humans practice meditation."

Intriguing. "I did not know that."

He laughed softly. "And how long have you been on Earth, Sub-Commander?"

"Many years. But I would never presume to invade upon human private practices."

"Humans don't necessarily consider meditation private," he said. "It's just something we consider solitary. Not very many people know when someone meditates – usually it's just close family and friends. Occasionally it's a religious practice."

"Do you engage in meditation, Captain?" It seemed to be an appropriate question, though one could never tell with humans. They so easily took offense.

Archer's lips quirked briefly into a smile, and she noticed that the overtone of contempt had become warmer, crossing into a lighter irony. At least he wasn't offended. "What do you think I was doing just now?"

"I apologize for disturbing you, then."

"You didn't disturb me. I spoke first. If anything, I should apologize for disturbing you."

"No apologies are necessary. As you said, you weren't aware that Vulcans meditated."

"I am now," he said. "But I do have to wonder, why here? Deflector control's a bit of an unusual place. Especially at four in the morning."

"I was…" she trailed off. "The use of a flame is helpful in finding focus. I normally use a candle, but open flames –"

"Open flames are prohibited as a safety hazard aboard starships," he finished for her. "You were looking for a star, then. Not a star trail like we see in our quarters, I mean."

She nodded in response.

"You know, Sub-Commander, sometimes we do make exceptions to the rules. A single candle's not likely to be a hazard when it's being watched as closely as someone does during meditation. I would have authorized it, if you had asked. I'm sure I'm not the only human captain who would."

"It did not seem…" T'Pol found herself trailing off again, trying to phrase this comment carefully. "It did not seem like the sort of request that would be welcomed."

"Well, if you ever travel on one of our ships again, now you know." He stepped toward the door. "Good night, T'Pol. I'll see you on duty in a few hours."

It didn't occur to her until then to ask why he had chosen deflector control for his meditation. Of course, she had not thought that humans engaged in such contemplative practices. That idea conflicted with the traditional view of them as boisterous, emotional and childlike.

Perhaps she had miscalculated in her estimation of humans and their practices. She had never seen much evidence that they were anything other than as she'd been taught, yet tonight the captain had clearly demonstrated behavior that was anything but loud and unruly. He'd then implied other humans could behave in such a manner as well.

Intriguing, she thought again. This could be worthy of further observation and study.

But such observation and study would require spending more time among humans, instead of less. Somehow, though, in the silence of the early morning and after the chance to meditate and calm her mind, that concept didn't seem as repulsive as it had before.

This was written in response to the January 2013 Delphic Expanse word prompt, "miscalculated." Special thanks go to QuietRaine and jackwabbit for beta reading.