T'Pol sat on the floor before the table in her room, candlelight flickering across her face and upper body, her eyes closed, her breathing even calmer then usual in the depths of meditation.
In her meditation she slipped into a calming trance, a trance in which she is at her closest to God, as Vulcans are born with the knowledge that God exists and each person holds a special relationship with God, and sees images created through the connection of her own Katra and God's to calm her and lead her through her life's path.
The images slowly became visible, the rolling sands of the Vulcan desert stretched a red-orange across the landscape and the dark sky was filled by The Watcher, Vulcan's sister planet, hanging low and shining bright so that you could see the volcanic eruptions bubbling her surface. And there in the darkness of the night, lit by the light of the Watcher, stood a hooded figure. T'Pol knew the importance of this figure as all Vulcans know that some, a rare few, have had their mates chosen by a higher power. Those rare few, mostly female, will see their mate in a trance sometime either shortly before or after there first Pon Far. This is so well known because it is one of the only reasons for divorce where a party is not at fault and no one fights the separation of a pair that's existence goes against God's will.
T'Pol walked slowly to the hooded figure whose face remained in shadow even when she got within a few feet. This too was a sign that her mate would be someone unexpected and that they both possessed unique talents that only their mating could bring to their full potential.
T'Pol stood before the hooded figure whose face was still in darkness and as if she had done it a thousand times before she reached out her hand, two fingers extended and brushed them to the fingers of her mate.
The hand of her mate was of refined and delicate bones, perhaps the bone structure of a nobleman, an artist, or a scientist but surely a pacifist, as no scars marred the pale olive skin. To a Vulcan it was a pleasant hand, the kind of hand one might wish their mate to have, a hand with fingers with which to entwine.
Her mate. Whose face she could not see, stood in the darkness, shadowed even to one whom Watches, facing her without looking away lifted the hood and reveled to the darkness and the Watcher- true identity.
As the hood slowly lifted T'Pol's eyes were drawn to the hair, that lay around the neck of the lightening face, which was black as a night in the void of space and as thick and smooth as velvet. Then her eyes were drawn on to the neck, which was thin and smooth and on the chin of the face of youth before meeting the eyes of Hoshi Sato.
T'Pol jerked out of her meditation blinking, her eyes in momentary shock both at what she had just found out and at the strength of her emotional reaction to that shock, and then the calm that ruled her returned as the message of her trance sank in
From her lips one word emerges seemingly of its own accord. "Hoshi."
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