Budding Linguist
Ardana had observed that little Spock did not really care for the food that was served aboard the Cochrane. He was not a picky eater, at home always consuming whatever his parents served him without complaint. This was expected of a Vulcan child. One ate enough to sustain life and proper health, and those who lived on a desert planet could not afford to be wasteful. However, the starship food was unfamiliar and sometimes just plain unpalatable to him. He was eating only enough of it to keep his mother somewhat mollified.
On this particular morning, he was finding his breakfast especially undesirable. He had been served something called grits and cared for neither the taste nor the texture. Spock consumed half of the offending food, along with the sliced bananas and strawberries, drank his apple juice, and asked to be excused.
His mother, although somewhat exasperated, nodded her consent. "Sarek, I am concerned that our son is not eating enough."
"He will not starve himself to death, my wife. A diplomat's son must learn to eat what is put before him."
Spock had discovered the replicator quite by accident. A crew member named Pike walked up to the rec room replicator and demanded a peanut butter cookie from it. He simply walked up to it, and spoke the words "Peanut butter cookie" at it. The machine complied, and the cookie appeared. One need only open the unit's door to retrieve it.
Spock liked peanut butter cookies. His mother would sometimes bake them, though not often. Vulcans generally did not indulge in sweet desserts. He was still hungry. He glanced at his parents, still seated at a table, engaged in conversation with other diplomats.
Quietly, so as to not attract attention, he rose from the chair where he had been reading, and walked over to the replicator. In the softest possible voice, he demanded "peanut butter cookie." The cookie appeared. He took a napkin from the holder next to the machine, and picked it up, carefully wrapping the cookie while avoiding actual contact with his hands. Vulcans, after all, did not eat with their hands. Just as quietly, he returned to his chair and his book. The book was of a large format, with many color photos of the Terran continent of Africa. It was quite fascinating, and he could easily hide behind it long enough to eat his cookie, pushing it up through the napkin as he went.
Spock did not realize he had been observed by Ardana,. She found the whole escapade amusing. Over the next few days, the "cookie caper" was repeated often, until the fateful afternoon when his father caught him in the act.
Spock's parents both needed to attend a diplomatic briefing, so he had been left in Ardana's care.
Sarek returned to the rec room to retrieve a forgotten item, just in time to see his son place several napkin-wrapped cookies into his overall pocket.
"My son, what is in your pocket?"
"Peanut butter cookies, Father. I am hungry."
"Spock, this is lacking in nutritional value, and therefore is not the type of food one should consume when hungry. Have you replicated cookies often?"
"Father, I have done so several times recently." Spock might occasionally be sneaky, but he was not a liar.
"I see. I am going to request that the programming of this machine be changed, so that it no longer accepts requests from you for cookies, either in Vulcan or in Federation Standard. You must eat what your mother selects for you . She knows your nutritional requirements. Food preferences are not logical."
"Yes, Father."
"However, you may consume the cookies you have already replicated. It would be illogical to waste them."
"Thank you, Father." And with that, Sarek returned to his meeting.
No more cookies, as he could no longer request them in either language that he spoke. Spock was disappointed. Suddenly, he had a flash of brilliance.
"Miss Ardana, how does one say "peanut butter cookie" in your language?"
Ardana giggled and then told him. During the course of the next few hours, Spock learned the
words for "peanut butter cookie" in French, Kiswahili, Arabic, Tellarite, Orion, and Andorian.