Chapter 3
Her laughter rang out in the quiet faculty building, so much so that he felt compelled to close the door to his office. "Nyota, I fail to see the humor in this situation. Would you care to explain?"
"I fail to see how even you wouldn't take pleasure in the irony of James Kirk finding himself before a student jury consisting entirely of females, Spock. Either the computer that randomly chooses the disciplinary board is rigged, or there's a greater power out there that has a sense of humor."
"It would be highly illogical, and therefore improbable, that an all-powerful being would take any interest in the failings of Cadet Kirk. I can think of several very talented programmers, however, that might be pleased to see this scenario accomplished. It would be against the code, specifically section 5, subsection k, but could be done with some effort on the part of a gifted student. If I did not possess a thorough understanding of your moral character, Nyota, I would be suspicious that you had taken part in this little 'prank.'"
"I'm pleased that you think so highly of me. Of course, I couldn't bring myself to break the code of conduct for such a frivolous purpose, but it does not mean I can't take great pleasure in someone else's creativity!"
The exuberance shining in her eyes was almost contagious. After nearly two years of working with Nyota, Spock had come to find her enthusiasm almost necessary to his peace of mind. He one day might even call her t'hy'la, a sister of his soul. Human beings tended to call any number of people "friend," but in his experience this surface emotional connection held none of the intellectual beauty and coherent logic of two minds joined as one. It was not appropriate now, given his position as her instructor, but soon the semester would end and she would no longer be his student. She was currently assisting him with his advanced phonology seminar, while still maintaining a punishing schedule of coursework in preparation for her thesis, though she rarely showed the stress she must be feeling. It had been a year since she had approached him about learning the techniques of kohl-tor, or as humans called it, meditation. Nyota's mind, like most humans', was a whirling confusion of thoughts and emotions that sometimes defied her ability to control. Her confession of this weakness was the beginning of a closer bond between them, as he helped her to learn to control and suppress her anxiety. He was, logically, the best choice of mentor for her on the path to wh'ltri as he knew well the difficulties and rewards inherent in restraining human emotions. Perhaps one day she would be ready to move beyond the simplest techniques and he would introduce her to deeper forms of spiritual meditation.
Thankfully, she understood his Vulcan nature well enough to refrain from the distasteful practice of touching that so many humans engaged in with those with whom they shared more informal relationships. His mother held the distinction of being the only one whose touch he could tolerate, and he did not want to give Nyota the impression that he did not enjoy her company. He had quickly found himself looking forward to office hours, when they would work tirelessly on whatever research or grading presented itself, and afterwards, when he would accompany her to the Academy commons to discuss the teachings of the Kir'Shara, Dhamma-vinaya, or tlhIngan tIgh: SuvwI' DevmeH paq. She would imbibe the stimulant known as coffee, while he consumed a no-less enjoyable cup of theris, which she found to be excellent but likely to cause drowsiness in the human body. Their conversations frequently bubbled up into his consciousness when he lay in his quarters at night, waiting for sleep to claim him.
"When it is written, "Listen to the voice of your blood," in The Klingon Way, I find it to be in direct parallel with the concept of logic. Each society has a different view of what is logical, based on millennia of experimentation, trial and error. What may be logical for a Vulcan is not necessarily so for a race so dependent on emotion to guide its actions."
Nyota had a knack for mistaking empathy for comprehension, and he could not hesitate to point out, "And is it logical for a human is to equivocate when it is clear that the brute destruction of one's enemy through purely instinctual reflex remains morally unacceptable in both my culture and yours, despite your peoples' tendency to cling to these primitive emotions? Simply because you share with them this persistence, does not mean that you can necessarily empathize with their hatred."
"I'm not being evasive, Spock. The logical decision is not a fact, it is a point of view based on available information. Just because your available information does not include emotional input, does not mean that it is incorrect to add it to the calculus."
He returned his focus to the moment at hand. Nyota's throaty laugh at Kirk's predicament still hung in the air as she turned back to the pile of assignments she had yet to grade. "And this approval of someone's willful disrespect for the code of conduct, does it stem from your theory of relativistic logic?"
She turned back to face him, features tensing visibly. He was provoking her, intentionally, and she knew it. "There is a proverb in pre-Standard English that says, 'rules are meant to be broken.' While I hardly agree with the sentiment, a set of rules is meant to guide actions when lack of sufficient information makes a logical decision impossible. Those who follow the rules are able to avoid many unforeseeable consequences but may also come to an incorrect conclusion." She stood and stepped past him, coming uncomfortably close. "I believe that it is against the code of conduct for an instructor to meet with a student behind closed doors, Lieutenant Spock. Permission to open the door, sir?
"Point taken, Cadet Uhura. I apologize if I have offended you." His stomach fleetingly reminded him that he did, in all truth, want the door to remain closed. She relaxed her facial muscles and crossed back to her desk, smiling almost imperceptibly. She had won this particular battle of wills.
"Nyota, Spock, when it's just you and me. There is nothing to forgive. What would friendship be without a few disagreements?"
She had reminded him, again, of his hopes for their continued relationship beyond the end of the examination period. "Nyota, may I ask what I hope is not an inappropriate question?"
"Yes, Spock?" While she could not be sure, she thought she saw a flash of fear in his eyes. This was not something she had seen before, in the several thousand hours they had spent in one another's company.
"Do you understand the concept of friendship in my culture? Of being t'hylara? I believe that my request may go against letter, if not the spirit, of the code of conduct, but," he paused, a green tinge rising to the tips of his ears, "I would be honored to call you t'hy'la." She tipped her head softly to the side, taking in his question.
After a moment, which seemed like an eternity, she replied, "Trau'es, I would be proud to call you t'hy'la, Spock." She stretched out her hand to him, in perfect Vulcan manner, to accept the touch of his fingers. He felt a rush of emotion, which he could only barely control as he returned the gesture and made contact between their index and middle fingers. Could she feel his failure to maintain mental composure? If so, it did not show. He could feel the thrumming of her human heart and the warm pleasure that she was experiencing at his display of affection. "Spock, you have long been my friend and I am not unaware of the importance of this gesture in your culture. May I share a gesture equally important in my own?" He nodded and she leaned in to gently kiss him on the cheek, as his mother had often done when he was a child. She drew back slowly and another incandescent smile bloomed on her face. "You have done me a great honor, and I fully endorse your breaking of the code of conduct, section 2, sub-section c, fraternizing between teaching faculty and students under their tutelage."
He could not control the twitch of a smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth and remained there long after she had left. He had a friend, the kind who understood that they would remain so for as long as they should exist.