DISCLAIMER: I don't own Star Trek, Sevek, or the mortgage company who funded his creation. Nor am I the sick, sick genius at some ad agency who created him.
If you haven't seen the commercials with "Sevek" on getting his new mortgage, you're missing out BIG TIME. It says he's a life coach on the screen...I can't even...that's too funny. Lookup on Youtube "Star Trek mortgage Sevek" to see them, there's a bunch of short ones, too. This guy might be the best semi-sorta-canon Vulcan ever.
Since it's kinda cannon, and a Vulcan life coach who likes labradoodles is too funny to pass up, I decided to brush off my questionable fiction writing skills and try this.
They laughed when he applied as the USS Eagle's newly christened role as the ship counselor, but he handled their skepticism with practiced ease.
After all, he was accustomed to the visual and audible emotional reaction of humorous stimuli from both his human mother's behavior and his two PhDs in human psychology.
He reminisced as he ran his hand across the smooth marble of the countertop, so alike yet different from the one they had on Vulcan. This had been his grandmother's home and he had visited it for a week every other year as a child.
This house stood for the side of himself that he had long been denied, his human side.
He remembered his grandmother putting down the tall box of unfamiliar food on this very counter along with the jug of then-unknown white liquid, telling him to get the kid's dishes from the lower cabinet and "get his breakfast ready".
So he got a plate and cautiously poured out the strange pellets from the box, and then the liquid into the plastic bowl as he would plomeek soup. Taking a fork he went straight for the strange balls of grain, but they kept breaking open or rolling around as he tried to stab them.
What an illogical breakfast, he remembered thinking before the boom of human laughter surrounded him. His grandmother's laughter was kind, but mocking all the same.
"What is amusing, foremother?"
"I told you not to call me that, and that's not how you make cereal, silly. What has your mother been feeding you on the dust bowl you call home?"
Yes, he had many memories in this house. From those fateful trips to Earth as a child, to his departure from the planet of his birth to this house to pursue his further education.
He thought of his wife T'Zel, living apart from him on Vulcan as was often practiced in their culture, and their conversation before he left, years ago.
"Human psychology? Why do you wish to study such a subject? Has your logic taken leave of you, my husband? You wish to surround yourself with emotion all day?"
"I have spent my entire life so far in pursuit of understanding all that is Vulcan. This is an opportunity for me to understand that in me which is human, without compromising my disciplines."
Sevek knew his wife wanted what was best for him, and he knew she had nothing against humans. This wasn't a forced bonding, she had chosen him.
But deep down, despite her stoic face, he knew even she was laughing at him.
Years later, after graduating with the highest honors and working in a variety of internships and immersive training programs, he had began to pursue career opportunities within human counseling and therapy.
But alas, he encountered constant problems in securing a position in human social work or psychological counseling.
Everywhere he applied, they laughed. His educational accomplishments and accolades were the best they had ever seen. But seriously...a Vulcan? For a shrink? To work out your emotional problems with?
They laughed and laughed and laughed.
To try to bolster his credibility further, he formulated and released a groundbreaking paper on serial monogamy in humans and the psychological implications in child-rearing, with new counseling techniques for children from multi-family backgrounds. It was published in a prestigious journal and was a peer review smash, leading him to be invited to present at a conference.
Of course they spent half the time laughing instead of listening.
Except...for the Starfleet recruiting agent sitting in the back row, scouting for potential candidates for the trail runs of ship counseling positions.
Cmdr. Johnson had a crooked smile on his face as he watched such as emotional concept be presented in such a stoic way. It was pretty funny, watching a Vulcan give this presentation on comforting human children, but Johnson knew he had found the recruit he came for.
The USS Eagle (NCC-N56) was having moral problems. Having cycled through three captains in two years, command was considering completely re-assigning and rebuilding the crew.
However...that would look very bad on the interspecies integration council Johnson had been sent to represent.
The problem was that the Eagle had largest non-human crew in the fleet, an astounding 45%, including eight hybrids of various blends. But that still left a 55% human crew to consider, and it was creating factions and cliques within the culture of the ship.
Starfleet really needed this experiment to work. And Johnson instantly knew that Sevek was the perfect match.
After all, who better to counsel and assess mix of humans, hybrids, and aliens than a Vulcan-hybrid with a an obsession with human psychology?
When presented, Sevek accepted the commander's offer with little thought.
He had heard of Spock and his rising success. He knew of T'Pol and her work in adding Vulcan philosophy to early Starfleet procedures, no matter what some said.
Four years later and here he stands, in his freshly pressed blue active duty uniform looking over his late grandmother's kitchen, which has been his for the last few years while at the academy, and thinking of how he got here.
But more so, his thoughts lie with where he will go next.
To Starfleet as the first-ever Vulcan counselor, though he doesn't intend on making a career in Starfleet. His aspirations still lie in working with the humans here on Earth. Perhaps as a counselor, perhaps as something related.
Perhaps something where they'll stop laughing at him.
Yes, he'll be back to this house. Hopefully, with T'Zel by his side. If she can accept him, perhaps she can accept this planet, this house, his mother's people. She's never been totally content on Vulcan anyhow, it's why she chose him.
Yes, there's room for two in this kitchen. But for now, he picks up his bag and shuts the door, off to his new life in the vastness of space.
Bachelor's always seem to think their house will be good enough for their future wife. Fat chance, this domicile will need to go!
I haven't written fiction in a long, long time. I can't even remember how to format dialogue. If anyone ever reviews this, please review as critically as possible, I'm very good with feedback. I'm working on chapter two.
If you don't think Sevek is a hybrid from that labradoodle comment, nothing will convince you. His favorite dog is a labradoodle, he must be mixed! Canonical justifications on my profile. Let me know what you think. All tpyos mine. (wink)