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Affinity For a Species Has Its Limits
By Bineshii
The Vulcan ambassador to Earth snapped the sleeve of his meditation robe to the side so he could stab a long finger into the communicator activation button. Humans! Just when I think I can finally get through a Terran day without one of them irritating me, they find a new approach. I have made it clear that unless the planet is about to explode, no one, and I mean NO ONE, is to interrupt my meditation.
The human whose visage appeared on the screen had the sense to look extremely apologetic. "Good morning, sir."
"What is it, Ensign Stevens?"
"Sir, the Admiral would like to speak to you privately at your earliest possible convenience."
Soval gave the young human a penetrating glare. "Convenience is something I rarely find on your world, but kindly put the admiral through."
On the screen, the admiral's hair retained some of its youthful straw color, Soval noted, unlike Soval's own achievement of complete silver coverage. Illogically, this gave Soval a feeling of being the dignified elder in their relationship. But a nearly hundred-year difference in their ages did not add to the expectation of deference Soval would have liked. At an equivalent position in their life spans, Soval noted that a human seemed just as worldly-wise as a Vulcan, despite the Vulcan's greater number of years. It was all part of that underlying fear and awe that Vulcans had for this upstart species.
"What is the latest emergency that needs my personal attention, Admiral?"
The Admiral swallowed. "Sir, I regret to inform you that Dr. Sivik, currently a vice chancellor at Harvard University, has a son, Varon, who has…apparently…ah…run away from home with the intention of enlisting in Starfleet. Dr. Sivik was quite adamant that we inform you of this fact. The boy, as a resident alien, has reached his majority by Terran standards. Having passed his physical, the recruiter could find no reason to deny the boy enlistment on any grounds. When I explained this to Dr. Sivik, Sir, he turned a deeper color than I have ever seen, even on yourself. He insisted I personally inform you of his son's action so you could extract the boy from Starfleet by some provision in the Terran/Vulcan alliance accords or some Vulcan statute prohibiting service by Vulcans in out-world military structures.
"Admiral, I do think I can be of some service here. The boy is eighteen years old, is he not?"
"Yes, just last week, according to his father."
"Good," quipped Soval, "Vulcans are considered to be children until they reach their thirtieth year. The boy will need his father's permission to join Starfleet, which he obviously does not have. Where is the boy now?"
"On a bus on its way to our non-commissioned crew training center in Biloxi Mississippi."
"When will the bus arrive in Biloxi?"
"18:00 today."
Soval buzzed for his assistant while still speaking to the admiral: "I will have an aide from the embassy there to meet the bus. He will return the boy to his father in an embassy vehicle. Consider this incident closed, Admiral. By the way, do you happen to know what motivated this illogical action?"
Admiral Jeffrey Holmes sighed. "Well, Sir, it seems the boy has a great admiration for Commander T'Pol. He has been avidly following her career in the media."
"Thank you, Admiral, for your prompt attention to this matter. Good day to you."
Soval paced his office in his meditation robe. Too restless to meditate, he ripped off the robe and threw it on a chair in a very un-Vulcan-like fashion. Perhaps a game of racquet ball with the newest and most junior member of his staff – the individual who had let the Starfleet call through - would settle his current level of agitation. These new employees needed to be properly intimidated so they would learn not to put such calls through during his meditation time, which he had sternly informed them was precisely 7:46 to 8:16, and 17:16 to 17:46, every day. However, he knew he would be continuing to receive requests from Vulcan citizens in temporarily in residence on this planet and would have to deal with them personally. Vulcans expected this level of service from their embassy.
Soval also knew he could not extract T'Pol from Starfleet like he could a hero-worshiping youth. Besides, the media would not be letting up on T'Pol as long as the Enterprise continued to fascinate the public with reports of the successes of each new mission. T'Pol was committed to her Starfleet career for ethical reasons, having served for several years with the same crew under extreme circumstances. There was a strong bond of mutual commitment holding that crew together. And speaking of bonds, because this really got his green blood boiling, the last time he had talked with T'Pol alone, it had only taken a light brush of his hand against her forearm to detect a mating bond. WITH A HUMAN! So, no! What was the Human expression? Ah – 'over his dead body' was Soval going to let any more Vulcans get into Starfleet.
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