The BLTS Archive - Game Courts and Courtship Games
by Bineshii (ldaly@wi.rr.com)

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Published: 11-26-07

*Disclaimer: No filthy lucre changed hands\*

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Soval was off his game today. It was not often that Admiral
Forrest could come within five points of the Vulcan. Still,
it was a pleasant diversion for them both. Forrest knew that
Soval toned down his game for his Human friend. Wasn't it
just last week when that new embassy aide came limping out
the court door and Soval, with an almost-grin on his haughty
Vulcan face, peered around the door, raised an eyebrow, and
said: "Next?" What the aide had done, Forrest never
discovered, but he knew that Soval often used the Human game
of racquetball as an instrument of torture among his own
kind.

Trying to make polite conversation during their game,
Forrest mentioned that Commander T'Pol had made the last
report from Enterprise when Captain Archer was preoccupied.
Their conversation had been pleasant, T'Pol having mastered
Human language inflections and seemed on the edge of a
humorous remark at one point. He had meant this recitation
as a complement to Vulcans, but Soval gave the ball a
vicious wack, which sent it ricocheting off the walls at a
speed that the Human eye could not follow.

"Uh oh", Forrest thought, "What have I done now?"

Soval was following the ball, but still had breath enough to
talk. "Admiral, I have come to the conclusion that there is
such a thing as too much mastery of an alien culture."

"So you think that T'Pol has gone native?" That bit was out
before Forrest realized it. It would not do to attempt humor
when Soval was this far into Vulcan angst. He did not try to
return the ball, letting Soval take the point and hit the
ball again with equal force.

It took Soval several more minutes to calm down before
Forrest dared speak again. "Well, Ambassador, I can hardly
catch up to you now. How about a mug of your excellent
Vulcan spice tea and a walk through the embassy gardens?
Didn't T'Vim mention some new plantings? I think she has
acquired a rare high altitude Vulcan flowering thorn bush
that is used to cooler weather."

Soval straightened to his full height, letting the ball drop
to the floor and roll away. "Of course, Admiral. That is an
excellent idea."

Half an hour later the two men were strolling past a sand
garden filled with grey waxy fat-leaved plants that held
water like old Fort Knox used to hold its gold. The new
plant was further down the path. Soval stopped once and took
a deep breath as if to smell the flowers, but Forrest knew
he was centering himself with a walking meditation. This was
a sign that the Vulcan would soon explain what was bothering
him. There would be no apology, for an explanation was an
apology in itself -- an acknowledgment that the two of them
were close enough to share confidences.

Soval got right to the point. "I advise you to remove T'Pol
from Starfleet. She dishonors both your people and mine.
Although she has recently married the Vulcan male rightfully
chosen for her in childhood, she previously bonded with a
Human male. This is unacceptable behavior from one trusted
with such a high position of responsibility. Bonding with a
Human demeans Vulcan culture and bodes ill for the future of
Vulcan/Human relations."

Forrest was dumfounded. He had come to the point in his
friendship with this Vulcan where he thought he was accepted
as an equal. For years he had swallowed what he considered
insults from this man in the name of interplanetary
relations, often because he thought the insult was not
intended. Soval had come far in his understanding of Human
sensibilities, but this seemed a throwback to the old
imperious Soval.

Forrest sipped his tea. Then he sipped it again, not
trusting his voice, which seemed to want to do one of two
things: laugh or project anger. Their two species were,
after all, physically compatible even if conception had not
been proven to be possible. They had similar wiring and
plumbing, to put it euphemistically. So, why the hell not?
T'Pol certainly made HIM look twice. Many Vulcan women did.

And there was one pointy-eared vixen (yes, that was the best
word for her) who once had him cornered in a side room at a
reception, with that look in her eyes that with Human women
had led to many a night of physical delights in his youth.
The woman's precisely cut hair had been disarranged: a stray
raven lock sticking to her forehead. She had been sweating
and her eyes had held his like a snake its prey. Her look
had said, "You are mine! You cannot say no," although she
spoke not one word. She had raised an eyebrow and with a
Mona Lisa smile, ran a finger over the back of his hand and
up his forearm. Then she had gripped his arm with such force
he almost cried out in pain. But a couple of Vulcan security
people had found them, and gently detached her hand from his
arm. She struggled at first, and then gave a little rasping
cry, before going limp between them. Forrest thought one of
them had surreptitiously injected her with something. They
led her away, and that was that. This was the ONLY time a
Vulcan had ever apologized to him. The guard said she was
'sick' and she would be sent home to Vulcan. So what was up
with that? Forrest never found out because Soval always
deflected any conversation he started over this incident.

Forrest knew Soval expected some sort of reaction from him
on the subject of T'Pol. But he was taking his time, knowing
that Soval thought Humans jumped in with their opinions
before thinking them over logically. Often Forrest would
vary the length of time before his responses, just to throw
Soval off guard. He liked to present him with the unexpected
and then witness the Vulcan frustration dance -  in all its
subdued, repressed, elegance. "So... I know you yourself
have, even if ever so briefly, considered experimenting with
a Human female. It has been a long time since the passing of
your beloved wife and there are many women who have shown
interest. I remember one young woman your eyes were always
following."

Soval glared at the Admiral. "She rejected my discrete
offer. That was unquestionably the most illogical thing any
Human has ever done."

"But you gave her no warning of your interest, no time to
get to know you and appreciate the gentle soul under the
hard crust. There are many women who show interest in you
and you ignore them." Forrest had acquired a certain
deftness to use with Vulcans which applied praise wrapped in
admonishments.

Soval raised his chin and looked out of the corner of his
eye at the Admiral. "I prefer to do the hunting. I do not
like to be hunted."

Forrest kicked a pebble off the path with his toe, turning
his body slightly to hide a grin. "I don't find your
courtship strategy all that logical. It certainly has not
produced any... logical results."

"Correct. It has not. Let us drop this unproductive
subject."

Soval paced ahead a few steps. His back was stiff, a sign
that his pride had been offended. It would be useless to
point out to Soval, again, that pride was an emotion.
Pointing it out just drew up deeper emotions -- which Soval
also tagged with non-emotional labels. Indeed, it was time
to change the subject. Forrest waited for Soval to do just
that, as he watched his friend's shoulders relax.

Soval turned to Forrest. "Maxwell, over the years, you and I
have spent many hours arguing with each other and many hours
relaxing together. We have grown comfortable with each other
and know when we can share confidences and when we cannot.
Therefore, I think it is time that I shared a few odd
details about my culture that I would trust to no other
Human. But not here, I will share them when we get to
Vulcan. I must have the proper surroundings to explain
them."

In this moment, Forrest knew their relationship had reached
another breakthrough. He nodded briefly in the Vulcan
fashion. "I am honored. I am sure it would serve well in our
future relations, to have a deeper understanding of your
traditions. It would help in negotiating accords that would
be acceptable to both our peoples."

Forrest then fell into step beside Soval as the two searched
for the new plant, each knowing that there were few people
he was more comfortable with than the person at his side.
But this was something neither man would ever admit aloud,
let alone to himself. And this relationship could only
deepen, for after the talks at the High Command Building and
in the Earth Embassy on Vulcan, they were to tour Soval's
home world, exploring all the places that were special to
Soval.

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The End