Chapter 2

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"I researched several types of Terran poetry, and found that a free verse style was best suited to the task," Commander Spock began as he presented me with his assignment.

I nodded, much as I had seen him do when I presented my questions and assignments to him. It felt different to be on the other side of the desk, so to speak. I began reading his verses, finding myself doing a double-take as the meaning of his words filtered into by brain. I was not expecting what he turned in.

There she is

I see her every day

She is not

In any of my classes

But I have come

To recognize her

Silently, she moves across the campus plaza

Intent on reaching her destination

She ignores the others lounging on the grass

Those enjoying Earth's blue skies

Preferring to study inside the Language Lab

Where the sounds she hears

Are those of tongues

Not native to her own world

Such dedication she shows to her studies

Admirable

I cannot help but wonder

What it would be like

To interact with such a dedicated student?

Someone who truly

Applies herself to learning

More than just the words

Communication in earnest

Is not merely words

But nuances, gestures,

Inflections, expressions

Or lack thereof

(Since they say I have none)

Who is she?

"Have I performed the task you assigned adequately, Cadet Uhura?"

I felt caught by my own game. And yet, I also felt as if I'd found a beginning. There was no way the Commander would ever return my feelings, but maybe, just maybe, we could become friends?

"I see you have a sense of humor, Commander. I promise I won't tell anyone. This is about me, isn't it?"

"Your assignment specified that I was to write about the first time I encountered a member of our present class. You did not specify that I could not choose you, nor did you specify that the poem had to describe the first time I encountered the subject in a classroom setting. You are a member of our class, are you not?"

"I am."

"And this endeavor is not only an examination of poetic forms, but an exploration of ways to communicate, is it not?"

"It is." I was smiling by this time. The Commander was being friendly, in his own way.

"Vulcans have mastered their emotions, not eliminated them. My sense of humor is different from yours, but rest assured, it is present. Life would be joyless, illogical even, if sentient beings did not experience moments of humor. I believed you would feel less intimidated if I chose a familiar subject. You are certainly familiar to yourself. My recent research reminded me that humor is often used in many Terran cultures as a way to communicate a willingness to work together at a task. Was I mistaken?"

"You were not mistaken, Commander." I nodded. Even when attempting to be creative, he was logical.

Our poetry sessions continued throughout the rest of my second year.