"This aethereal, fine-nerved, sensitive girl. . ."

- Thomas Hardy

Aether

He removed the sandcrab shell from his pocket, and gently placed it beside his asenoi. It rolled for a moment, then settled on its back, forming a tiny, pearlescent cup. He stared at it for a moment, then strode purposefully to the refresher unit to change out of his running gear.

It would be wise to attempt to forget this morning's incident. In its entirety.

Nyota Uhura was a cadet, and currently a member of a class he was teaching.

She was fully Human, and though surprisingly well versed in Vulcan languages, was not capable of fulfilling the role of a Vulcan wife.

Yet. . .

He clenched his jaw and forced his mind away from contemplating the possibilities she presented. She was an Ensign, he was currently responsible for grading her scholastic efforts, and she was fully Human and he was not.

All completely logical and forceful arguments why he ought to abandon all foolish thoughts about her.

In less than ten minutes he had showered, put on his heavy satin meditation robe, and managed to pack up most of the few belongings he had brought.

Nothing he did, no matter how useful or logical, could keep images of Nyota from invading his vision. Her smile when he had invited her to walk with him; the coordinated lines of her body as she stooped to pick up the little shell now sitting next to his firepot; the shine on her hair as she had cheerfully handed it over; the musing sound her voice made while she gazed out over the water; how interesting her expression was when she teased him; her subtle, indefinable scent. . .

That scent had fascinated him from the very first day of this Spring Break.

He had found her interesting for weeks - her first day in his classroom had set her apart from all his other students, and there was no logical reason to ignore her unique qualities.

He had found her desirable for nearly as long - ever since she had unhesitatingly supported him in front of a particularly unpleasant colleague (though, she had, in fact, stood up for all Vulcans, not just him), and had taken the insubordination demerit he had been obliged to give her as a result, without complaint.

But that moment, on the beach, with a towel smelling ever so faintly of her, was the first time he had felt anything truly compelling.

He wanted her, and not in the way he observed most men wanting her, which, of course, nearly all of them did, in some capacity. His want was physical, yes, but it held an elemental complexity to it that mystified him, even as it captivated him.

He did not only want to touch her, mind and body, but also to experience her, join with her, meld. . .

His heart sped, his hands and ears flushing at the very thought.

He made two fists, and reproached himself.

His hours-long meditations last night had clearly been woefully insufficient.

He knew he ought to leave it be, let everything stay just as it was, but. . .

The look they had shared last night had only been the culmination of many days of interest, while also being an undeniable confirmation of attraction. On her part, not just on his.

And then, today's intimate stroll on the beach had been something more. Something, in fact, that he had never imagined could occur between him and a woman.

Harmony.

Not merely concurrent desires, or moments of compatibility, but actual, mental, emotional harmony.

Had she never shown any sign of reciprocity, his wanting would have remained meaningless, and easily suppressible. But now. . .

He could wait, would wait, but he could not leave it there.

Not when she was suddenly precious, irreplaceable. . .

Beloved. . .

He reached for his lighter-wand, and hastily lighting his firepot, sat down in front of it.

Minute flecks of red and blue, orange, pearl grey, purple and green flickered from the delicate inside surface of the sandcrab shell.

Though he knew he probably shouldn't, he focused on it instead of the asenoi's flame, and then, with soundless whispers, repeated the only one of Surak's mantras that seemed appropriate at the moment.

"Solektra, Sov, Yon, Masu, Abrukatra,

Ek'aifa nam-tor au't sha-ret sv'i k'wuhli,

Than fupa s'malat kwon-sum buhfik dahsaya-lar."

The rhythm of the words dropped him gently into meditation, the Standard translation of them only briefly distracting him. . .

Earth, Air, Fire, Water, Aether,

All these exist in their own space, apart,

Always doing according to nature's perfect divisions. . .

Many Human cultures were structured upon their medieval understandings of the elements, of which they held to be four - Earth, Air, Fire, and Water. Some of these also proposed a further element, that of Outer Space, or Aether. Much of the enduring Human modes of religion were based upon these four, or five, elemental forces of nature, and given that nearly all Human sciences had their roots in religion, the historical overlap was significant.

In every way, the Vulcan perspective was somewhat different.

To his knowledge, no Vulcan culture had ever considered the natural forms of fire, water, air and earth "elements" in the scientific sense. When the four words appeared simultaneously in text, they were always referring to conceptual, dogmatic, or philosophical ideals. Objects might embody those ideals, but air itself, for example, was not considered to be a singular constituent "thing" that made up the matter of the universe. The chemical makeup of gasses had been part of their understanding almost from the beginning, and this understanding did not come to bear on the ideological issue.

No, "air" was a representative word, when used in a religious sense, as were "breath" and "wind" and "storm", and so on. Historically, what these words represented depended heavily on which Vulcan culture you looked at, for there had been thousands of different tribes and communities before Surak had united them as a people. Even nowadays, there were drastically wide variations in cultural expression all across Vulcan.

However, as a descendant of Surak, his own grasp of the matter conformed with what were now considered fairly conventional views.

"Air" and all words related to it, was a representation of memory, or thoughts in general. A violent storm was a representation of violent thoughts, and a clean, sharp wind represented the poignant sharpness of a sudden smell causing a resurgence of memories, and so on. To Humans this element was ephemeral and impermanent, but to Vulcans it was constant, and eternal. The timbre might change, but the song went on forever.

"Fire" was analogous to the Human concept of "yin and "yang", in that it was considered inherently dual in nature, and representative of the equilibrium of existence. Fire could build up as well as destroy, could aid as well as hinder, must consume even as it created. As such, it was quite different in representation from Human norms, because it was often shown as blue, or cool grey in color, at least as often as it was said to be orange or yellow or red.

"Earth" was perhaps the most complex of Vulcan's ideological "elements", embodying as it did the ideas of Vulcan family, clans, and social connections. Even in this modern era, ownership of land held incredibly complicated personal connotations, and working the land had even more. To Humans, "earth" was considered the strongest, most permanent, most reliable element. On Vulcan, it was the exact opposite - a delicate, tenuous connection to life, as unreliable as clan politics, as temperamental as an unrestrained Vulcan. Controlling it was necessary, but impossible.

"Aether" was the most different from any Human concept, for it represented the mind, the katra, and the purely Vulcan ability for touch-telepathy. To Humans, "Aether" was the element of Heaven, and most often represented perfection. It was the "God element", as it were. On Vulcan, "Aether" was the magnifying glass through which you saw your own imperfections. It might have the ideal of perfection behind it, but in practice it was mortal, flawed, and represented not by ageless heavenly bodies, but by earthly, impermanent ones.

The elements worked in tandem, as concepts, while each being entirely distinct unto itself. And while Humans could undoubtedly understand each one, and might even come to prefer them to Terran ideals, much like his mother had, there was a very basic, conflicting difference in expectations that he could barely see any way around.

Humans, to a one, needed self expression. Individuality, imagination, the desire to be special, yet still accepted into the group, placing oneself as a gem in the midst of a solid setting - all these things were inherent in the Human psyche. And it was not wrong - it merely was who they were.

Vulcans, conversely, knew that self expression would destroy them. Such knowledge was the very basis of their civilization. Occasional strictly controlled venues for it still existed, as a matter of course, to keep the species alive, functioning, and developing, but no single Vulcan's goal was ever self-expression. Even Vulcan artists did not attempt to express "themselves" when creating their works. Put simply, the same concept of self did not exist.

Although, of course, such a distinction very clearly did not apply to him. He did desire self expression - required it, in fact. And his doing so did not result in disaster.

Well, not every time.

Most times it did not. . .

Some times. . .

Well, his friendship with Pike was beneficial.

Several Human curse words rose up in his mind, and hovered there for several seconds longer than it should have taken for him to suppress them.

He shook his head. His Human and Vulcan natures were so constantly at war, it was quite indescribable to him how the two species had always managed to be allies.

His very existence was proof of their compatibility, of course, but the fact of it still shocked him every time he took a close a look at it.

The two species were fundamentally at odds.

Had always been - would always be.

It seemed an insurmountable difference, until one added the final element.

It was "Water" as a concept, that could possibly be used to unite Vulcan and Human cultures.

On Vulcan, it represented emotions, and how transmutable, dangerous, varied and strange emotions were. For Humans. . . he wasn't certain that he knew enough about Human nature yet to be able to make any sort of ideological generalization. But he knew it was the most pervasive elemental thing that meant something to any Human culture, and it wasn't difficult to see why. It was the same on Vulcan.

Ice, water and steam all existed on the surfaces of both worlds, and the spiritual ideals that had developed from them had done so along remarkably similar lines. Purity, growth, blood, understanding, attraction, love, courage, devotion, and power were all ideas that both cultures generally attributed to the "element" of water.

It was a very small, but extremely important "in" for each species to be able to understand each other.

He inhaled deeply, and finally let himself look away from the sandcrab shell. He resettled himself, and focused on the asenoi's flame.

He felt more a child of two worlds in this moment than he had felt in years. Spelling out the differences between Nyota's species and his own only accentuated the near impossibility of any relationship between them working. . .

Hold for a moment.

His species. . .

I am a member of two species.

For so long, his Humanity had been at best an inconvenience, and was to be ignored as much as possible, and at worst it had engendered in him a set of deep character flaws that needed correcting.

But, what if. . .

He had struggled his entire life to find a place of balance between his two cultures, while a the same time, he invariably identified as fully Vulcan.

And yet. . .

And yet, he had chosen to live on Earth, in preparation for a career in a Human organization, surrounded by Humans every day.

And now, he had to contend with this very real attraction he was feeling for a completely Human woman.

Perhaps it was time he began seeing his Human qualities as strengths instead of flaws.

Surely, there must be a solution that will create something instead of tear it down, improve life and not depress it. . .

But beyond a business relationship, there was little chance of anything working. He was Human enough to be able to have success at that, he was certain. After all, he had already managed to navigate a wide range of Human interpersonal relationships without completely failing.

Well. Perhaps they might start with that.

He was entitled to two Teacher's Assistants, and he had not yet chosen any, though he already had received upwards of a dozen applications. Additionally, it was Starfleet tradition to allow the new professors the privilege of asking any member of their classes to be a TA, while the rest of the teachers were restricted to Junior and Senior students. As it was his first semester as an instructor, he was still adjusting to the position, and had considered forgoing one altogether, or at least until he had become more used to his new responsibilities.

But now, he reconsidered.

It could not hurt to ask Nyota. If she said yes, then they had a place to begin. If she said no, then he had been mistaken, and he would accept that and move on.

And until then, he could hope.

Indeed. . . hope. . .

The one hour candle in his firepot flickered out.

He rose, and began his preparations to leave this place.

If the trip down to Malibu had been strange, the trip back home was downright bizarre.

There was none of the rambunctious jocularity that there had been a week ago. In fact, the majority of the cadets were leaning against their seats in almost a catatonic stupor.

Some still appeared cheerful, of course, but there was none of the noise of last week.

Cadets Kirk and McCoy had taken the bench seats near the front, and each had a girl napping under each arm.

Allerson was seated near the back, cuddling quite freely with Gaila and Sulu.

One of the few cadets who sat alone, Nyota was seated near the middle of the hoverbus, a far more contemplative look on her face than the indolent blankness of nearly everyone else.

Almost exactly one half hour into their long flight back to San Francisco, she surprised the whole hoverbus by beginning to sing "Baba Yetu".

"Baba yetu, yetu uliye

Mbinguni yetu, yetu, amina!

Baba yetu yetu uliye

M jina lako e litukuzwe - "

At that point, nearly everyone aboard joined in, in perfect harmony, almost as though they knew the words. . .

"Utupe leo chakula chetu

Tunachohitaji, utusamehe

Makosa yetu, hey!"

Spock could barely keep his attention on the speedway. It only now occurred to him - though he had, of course, known from the beginning - that this group was primarily made up of the Starfleet Chorale group. Of course they knew the words. . .

It was odd to realize this now, of all times.

"Ufalme wako ufike utakalo

Lifanyike duniani kama mbinguni, amina. . ."

He focused his attention down to Nyota's voice and, in his mind, he joined in.

. . .thy will be done,

On Earth,

As it is in Heaven. . .

fin

For a link to the song, please look at this story over on my AO3 page (they allow users to post links). My penname is the same over there.