Disclaimer: Star Trek is the property of Paramount/Viacom.  This story is the property of SterJulie and is copyright (c) 2005 by SterJulie.  Rated PG.


After the Credits: Balance of Terror



/"We have seen the enemy, and he is us."/


One of Mother's odd sayings enters my conscious thought during my meditations.  I was distracted by the face of the commander of the Romulan ship.  When I first saw him on the bridge's viewscreen, I kept my face calm even though my skin crawled from scalp to toes.  The Sundered!  They looked too much like us to be anything but Vulcan's long lost kinsmen.


A second thing interrupts my mediations.  Prejudice.  I haven't felt such raw rejection and suspicion since I left Vulcan.  Until today, I have only known acceptance in Starfleet.  But the prejudice, anger and bigotry that radiated from Mister Stiles eyes leapt at me like a crazed lemayta.  It was disconcerting, to say the least.


A third thing disturbs tonight's reflections.  The commander bore a striking resemblance to my own father.  Mother said on occasion, "We all have cosmic doubles."  If so, then I have truly seen Father's twin.


I wonder if the commander had a family, a son.  How did he treat his son?  Was there nothing but animosity between himself and his child, or was the commander more encouraging and forgiving and patient and…


I shake myself.  /Such foolish notions!/ my inner voice chides.


I rise from my fruitless meditations, strip off my robe -- for I am unworthy to wear it at this moment! -- and begin a regimen of what the crew ccalls "Vulcan Power Yoga."  Its harsh, exacting poses and stretches will push my body to the limits.  If my mind insists on being undisciplined at the moment, then I will master my body.


/Cosmic doubles? Such foolish notions!/