1. Default Chapter

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Vulcan 101 

Archer walked into the mess hall and looked around. Hoshi waved to him, signaling him to walk toward her.

"Hello," he said. He smiled at her, as he took a seat.

"Good morning, Captain." She smiled back, noticing he was shifting in his seat trying to get comfortable. She frowned. "You're not nervous about this, are you?"

He winced. "Well, maybe a little." He leaned toward her. "The last language I learned was Spanish." He looked down and drew his lips together. "My teacher called me 'No Intiende Archer.'"

She giggled. "Well, you know other languages. So, you must not be that bad."

He raised his eyebrows and shook his head. "I convinced my principals to let me take additional science classes instead of language courses."

"But, I thought by junior high, they taught all children at least two languages?"

He put his hand on his neck and scratched, shaking his head slowly. "No."

She pursed her lips. "Well, you know English."

He nodded and smiled. "That I do know."

She giggled again. "Well, that's a good place to start." She looked at him for a moment and frowned. "You didn't bring a PADD as I suggested."

"I didn't think I'd need one for the first class." He grinned and began to lean back in his chair.

"What do you mean you don't need one for your first class?" she asked. She raised her voice and wagged her finger at him. "When I was teaching I insisted my students bring something to take notes with on the first day. The first day is where you learn the basics. The fundamentals." She paused, further scolding him, "It's where you learn the 'A, B, C's. Don't you want to be prepared?"

He leaned back. "Don't you think you're taking this a little too seriously?" He shifted in his seat and grinned harder.

Hoshi put her hand on her head and blew out a deep breath. "Captain, you asked me to teach you Vulcan. I'm here. But I only want a serious student. Please go get a PADD and come back when you're ready."

"You're serious?" he asked. She was staring at him.

"You're serious," he said. Archer cocked his head to the side and looked at her. His brows furrowed.

"I don't have all day, sir," she said.

He squinted his eyes, looked at her again to make sure she was serious, and got up and left.

Hoshi began to mumble to herself. "I should never have agreed to do this." She took a sip of hot tea and mused about her new student. She wondered, 'Why in the world would he want to learn Vulcan now?'

After about ten minutes, Archer walked back with a PADD and writing instrument, and sat down with Hoshi. "Okay, teacher. Ready." He smiled.

She nodded. He was shifting in his chair again. She opened her mouth and he got up. "I just need a cup of coffee." She snapped her mouth shut and scrunched her lips from one side to another, and motioned for him to continue.

He came back with a cup of coffee, sat down, shifted a bit and looked at her. He smiled.

"Are you done?" she asked.

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently.

"Need to go to the restroom or change chairs?"

He frowned at her again. "No."

She smiled. "Good." He shifted again, causing her to blow out a sudden burst of air.

He didn't seem to notice. "Well, how do we proceed?" He took a sip of coffee, slurping slightly.

She smirked. "Now, the most important thing to know about this language is the volume in which you speak. Vulcans speak softly, mostly because they have excellent hearing."

He nodded. "I can speak softly."

Hoshi continued, "The trick is to speak softly, while ensuring you are clearly heard." She paused, "Let's practice this." He took another slurp of coffee. "Repeat after me," she said in a normal tone. 

He nodded.

"Hello, how are you?" she said quietly and clearly.

"Hello, how are you?" he responded quietly, but not clearly.

She nodded. "Not bad. Are you using your diaphragm, Captain?" 

He shrugged, "Am I supposed to?"

"Yes, like when you sing." She paused. "You do sing, don't you?"

"Every morning in the shower," he grinned.

"Good. Listen to me again." She waited for a second. "Hello, how are you?"

He nodded. "Hello, how are you?" he said more clearly, but not as quietly.

"Okay, one more time, sir. Hello, how are you?" She put her hand on his stomach.

He responded in kind, "Hello, how are you?" He began to snicker.

"What's so funny?" She drew her hand back.

He shook his head, "I don't know. I just feel silly."

"Well, that last time was very good. Use that volume when you speak. You'll have to concentrate."

He stopped laughing and nodded. He sipped his coffee and shifted in his seat again.

She furrowed her eyebrows at him and sighed. "Another important thing to remember when speaking in Vulcan is the formality of the language. It's important to not rush or talk over someone. There's a certain amount of waiting for someone else to say something. However, their speech can be quite blunt."

He nodded. He slurped his coffee. Just as he did, he saw T'Pol enter and cross the room to reach for a mug of tea, while studying a PADD. Archer turned his back and slumped in the chair.

Hoshi smiled. "Sub-commander."

T'Pol walked over, as Archer put his hand in his hair. 'Not my lucky day,' he thought.

"May I inquire what you are doing?" asked T'Pol.

Archer rubbed his hand over his chin and mouth. "You know, just sitting here talking with …."

Hoshi interrupted, "Captain Archer has asked me to teach him Vulcan."

He shot her a deadly glance and looked up at T'Pol who was looming over him.

T'Pol's eyebrow shot up. "Is that so, Captain?"

He swallowed hard. "Well, I figured since I have a Vulcan first officer, and have to talk with Vulcan High Command occasionally, that it would be a good idea." He seemed a little embarrassed, as he lied to impress her.

Hoshi pointed toward a chair and offered T'Pol a seat. "Perhaps you can help."

Archer said suddenly, "You know, I should probably get to some reports …."

T'Pol inclined her head. "As your first officer, I would be … happy to assist you." 

Archer shifted in his seat.

"Sub-commander, is there anything you would want Captain Archer to know about your language?"

She thought for a moment. "The tone of your voice is vital. Saying it in one tone, may mean something entirely different. I think this might be something you would need to focus on, Captain."

He furrowed his eyebrows and snapped slightly, "I think I can get the right tone."

She inclined her head. "Very well. Then repeat after me: nirsh." She paused. "The word means 'no.'" She paused and said it again with great calmness. "Nirsh."

The sound was difficult for him to distinguish, but he decided to try. He mimicked, "Nursh."

Hoshi looked aghast and T'Pol shot both eyebrows up.

Archer looked back and forth from each woman. "Was it that bad?"

Hoshi began to laugh. "Captain, you just managed to call T'Pol something equivalent to a cur, and the tone you used indicated your strong dislike for her. The good news is - you weren't screaming, but you were speaking loudly."

He laughed. "This is much worse than Spanish class." He glanced at T'Pol with a sheepish grin.

"Perhaps your first foray into speaking Vulcan was unsuccessful, but you should continue to practice." She paused. "I would … enjoy … helping you continue you studies."

Hoshi nodded. "Although you're not a lost cause … and I mean this in the best way, sir … I doubt I have the patience for another lesson with you."

Archer scratched the side of his head. "Nooorish," he spoke more quietly. He looked at T'Pol, hoping this time it was right. 

T'Pol looked him in the eye. "Thank you."

Hoshi widened her eyes, looking back and forth from T'Pol to Archer. "Sir, you just said she was very sexy. Uhm, and you used a tone of voice that was suggestive."

Archer let out a chortle and his face reddened. "It does seem I'll need someone with patience to teach me." He smiled at T'Pol.

"Lt. Reed to Captain Archer." 

Archer looked at the two girls and got up, "Saved by the bell." He walked to the com. "Archer here."

"Sir, we're being hailed."

"On my way." Archer looked at T'Pol and Hoshi. He smirked. "Care to join me?" he asked motioning they come with him to the bridge.

Hoshi smiled and looked at T'Pol as they were walking out. "El capitan no itiende nada, T'Pol."

T'Pol nodded. "Claro que si."

[top]

Disclaimers to Star Trek, UPN and Paramount©2003.   
Video captures by fabulous Enterprise 8875©2003.   
Reviews provided by Monica. 


	2. Vulcan 201

**Vulcan 201**

Archer walked into the Mess Hall, his palms a little sweaty. After wiping them on his pant legs, he scanned the vacant room and finally found his teacher at a table near the window. She was sipping her tea, sitting ramrod-straight, and waiting patiently for him … despite the fact he was thirty minutes late.

He was hoping she would've left; a human would've.

_Damn, _he thought.

Walking over to her, he offered a nervous smile. "Sorry I'm late."

Carefully, she set her mug down as he lamely said a few more words. "Something came up."

"Something?" T'Pol asked.

His eyes darted left and then to the right. "Yeah."

"You didn't practice your conjugation, did you?" she asked.

It was the homework assignment she'd given to him. A little deflated, he ducked his head.

"No," he said.

"Captain, how do you expect to be able to speak the language without practice?"

Shrugging, he sat across from her. The gesture caused a knit between her eyebrows to form and he sat up a little, with more seriousness, until her crease eased.

"Do you have your other homework?" she asked.

Rolling his eyes, he fiddled with the arm pocket on his uniform and dug out a PADD. Once he handed it to her, she poked her eyebrow into her forehead. The altitude and vector meant she was displeased.

"I see you didn't finish this either."

"Come on, T'Pol, I've been busy."

A clear look of disdain flashed across her face for a second. She licked her lips and stared back at the computer screen.

"Yes, Commander Tucker indicated you two have watched quite a few water polo matches this week. I would … hate … for your studies to interfere."

He sighed; the sarcasm (which she'd already perfected) made him feel guiltier than he did when he entered.

"It's the division finals!"

"Couldn't you record them and watch them later?"

Archer frowned. As a personal favor, Admiral Gardner had set up a special transmission, which means for once the captain got to see the games live. It was a luxury, and one he wasn't going to give up readily.

His silence must've indicated his answer.

"Which one is more critical to your success as a captain, watching sports or speaking Vulcan?"

He shifted in his seat.

She added, "You yourself noted you wanted to be a … more prepared diplomat."

Waving away her nagging, he agreed. "I'll study more."

"Good. That means starting tonight."

With large, sad eyes he stared up at her. "Tonight? Tonight is Stanford vs. UCLA."

She didn't back down.

"Listen, with the Andorian etiquette classes from Hoshi, the Klingon fighting moves from Reed … you'd think I could have just a couple of nights off for water polo."

"Trip indicated you've watched a match every night this week."

He sighed.

"When you meet with T'Pau again, do you think she'll ask you about Stanford's score during the game with UCLA?"

He gave a pronounced glower. _It'd make things a hell of a lot easier. _"She can speak English," he said. "Or I could use the translator."

"Minister T'Pau prefers to negotiate in Vulcan. By knowing the language, you give her respect. At least, that's what you indicated to me when you came to me asking for my help."

_It's because Hoshi wouldn't help me. Well, sorta. _"You volunteered before I asked."

"Captain, you're a compassionate man, a good pilot and an extraordinary tactician, but your strength is not in languages. As your first officer, I felt compelled to offer my services."

One cheek sloped up until she offered a bit more. "And … as your friend."

He smiled.

Setting down her mug, she reviewed the work he _had_ completed. Nodding a few times, she scrolled through the information. As he watched her, he noticed when her mouth twitched; he didn't quite have the right conjugation. When she nodded, it meant his answer was acceptable.

"I see you still have trouble with formal, past tense. If you were talking to Minister T'Pau about what happened to you in the past, you would need to use it."

"Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Let's work on some of the wording."

He gave a begrudging head nod.

T'Pol immediately spoke in Vulcan. "Ra v'ri tu za-gad?" (What did you do yesterday?)

Staring off into space, trying to recall vocabulary, he stammered through the answer in Vulcan.

"V'glantau … uf … tu … tar … water polo … svi' Vulkansu?" (I watched … how do you say water polo in Vulcan?)

"Tu ri au." (You don't.)

"Oh." He bobbed his head up and down and continued with a smile. "V'glantauong waterpolo v'spa'raong Trip … ni mish-tal … heh T'Pol … ni savensu." (I watched water polo and had dinner with Trip, my engineer, and T'Pol, my teacher.)

Although he'd gotten through the words, he was sure he mangled not only the past, but wasn't sure whether he'd managed to say the right "and."

"I think another weakness is your blatant emotion. When speaking, it's imperative you keep your voice level and steady. To do anything other than that indicates you're having an emotional outburst."

Wiping the smile from his face, he leaned forward.

"I'm human, I can't really help it."

"I believe you can at least attempt to keep your voice flat."

"Flat?" he asked.

She demonstrated, reeling off a few sentences as if it were music. With a slight tilt in her head, she encouraged him to repeat the words. Clanging through, he jumbled sentences and phrases, breaking the harmony. Despite butchering the language, he seemed pleased to forge his way through it.

"Too much emotion. In order to speak Vulcan, you must relax. Think peaceful thoughts."

He tried again with the same under whelming result, at least he guessed that's how she felt.

"Close your eyes."

He obeyed.

"Imagine meditating in a quiet room, reflecting. Everything is silent and serene."

"Okay."

Shutting his eyes, he tried to imagine himself in his Ready Room where he could only hear the hum of the engines. Instead, he thought he heard the squeak that sometimes roamed under the floorboards. His eyes flashed open.

"Try again," she said.

This time, he tried to picture himself elsewhere – on the top of a mountain after an arduous and freeing climb. The cool wind rushed through his hair and blew onto his face. His lungs pumped for oxygen, and he could only hear the beating of his heart. It was Zen-like.

He opened his mouth and the words flowed out … though they didn't have the same ring and melodic tones that T'Pol did.

"Much better. You imagined yourself meditating?"

"No, watching water polo," he said. He grinned at his own joke and her lips twitched.

"At any rate, you'll need to work on hiding your emotion," she said.

"It's difficult."

"With patience, anything is possible."

Sighing, he asked her a question. "It must've been difficult for you to speak with emotion … to mimic us."

She blinked.

"But, you have our body language down pretty well."

"Body language?" she finally said. Her voice was unsure, as if she wondered whether she'd botched years worth of communication.

"Yeah, gestures. Humans communicate a lot through body language and tone of voice."

She raised a brow.

"For example," he said. "You know that look Trip gives: his face reddens, the vein on his forehead - just below his part – pops out, he points and his lip starts to quiver."

She seemed to consider the information. "I … know which one you speak of."

"That means Trip's about to disagree … and he's angry about it."

"Yes, I see."

He smirked.

"And your scowl – with your wrinkles sprouting across your face, red ears and squinting eyes means you are irritable?"

Giving her a lessened version of what she just described he frowned.

"Well, I can tell your moods, too," he said.

"Oh?" she asked.

"You have the smallest hint of a frown – like your lips twitch - when you're disappointed. Like when you noticed I hadn't been practicing my Vulcan."

"I do not show emotion," she said. The tone in her voice was more robotic than usual.

"Oh, yes you do. When your eyes are large and just a little glassy, you're curious."

She stared ahead, trying to keep her face placid.

"Don't worry. I don't think most people notice, just the ones who know you."

"Vulcans don't show emotion."

Smirking, he sat back in his chair casually. "Well, most Vulcans don't use contractions either, but you do."

Her eyebrow poked up.

"Admit it, T'Pol. We've contaminated you."

Giving the lightest snort possible, she stared into his eyes. "Perhaps."

Grinning, he accepted the information triumphantly.

"And, possibly you have been … contaminated … by Surak – a Vulcan."

He furrowed his brow.

"Why is emotion the ruin of all that exists?" she asked.

Without a beat, he answered her. "Because it taints thought. Purity of thought is the essence of a structured mind. And a structured mind is the pursuit of every Vulcan."

Even he seemed surprised he knew the answer.

"Surak said that as he tried to convince the rulers of Vulcan to bow to reason. It's already been translated – the first recordings from the Kir'Shara."

He stared into space and tried to recall more, but it was already gone.

"Although, one would've hoped that Surak influenced you more."

He chuckled a bit. "Wait, I thought you said you didn't believe me when I had the katra of Surak?"

"After reading the Kir'Shara I have tempered my skepticism."

He smiled broadly.

She cut off his glee. "Shall we continue?"

He glanced down at his watch and then timidly gazed up at her.

"The game?" she asked.

"It starts in ten minutes now," he said.

"Stanford vs. UCLA?"

"Yeah."

"I presume Commander Tucker is meeting you?"

"No, he's on duty tonight."

The two stared at each other, and the idea lit in his eyes first – mischievously. "Ya know, you could watch the game with me. Maybe I could teach you a few things about the sport."

Although she was quiet, she didn't look as disgusted with the idea as he thought she would.

"If I do, will you complete your homework assignment, including practicing your conjugation and restraining your emotion."

Beaming, he agreed. "You bet."

The two got up from the table and headed to the door, T'Pol's hands wrapped around her mug. As the door swished open, she turned to him.

"Do I really speak with emotion and show visible signs of it through … body language?"

"Does it worry you?"

"Worry is an emotion. I was merely asking for your affirmation."

He mocked seriousness. "Right." When he turned to her, he could see her eyes were gleaming – curious and eager. Stopping for a moment, he answered her.

"I just always assumed you were an excellent student of the human condition, T'Pol. I don't think you're too emotional. I think you're just right."

There was a smile in her eyes that made her straighten. Rather than extinguish it, she leaned into him slightly.

"Captain, I think you're making significant progress as a diplomat, despite your failings in the Vulcan language."

If she wasn't under his command, he'd throw an arm around her and bring her into his shoulder. But, instead he held out his hand for her to walk through the portal first as he chattered on about the rules of water polo.


End file.
