Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek

Basic Training

Tyback ripped into the cardboard box with one swift deft motion. There was a letter. Shamefully, he pushed it aside and instead pulled out one heavy plastic jar.

Peanut butter. He dug around in the box. Ahhhh...a spoon.

"Did she send another box for you Tyback?" asked Tyson.

"Affirmative."

"Will you share?" asked Tyson from his bunk.

It had come to his attention that although the human males around him were not quite as hungry as he was, they were normally underfed during basic training. He wasn't sure why Starfleet did this. He had been told it was all part of breaking you down to build you up. Whatever that meant.

He considered Tyson's request and remembered the contents of the box Tyson had just recently opened. "If you will share some of your mother's oatmeal cookies."

"Done," said Tyson tossing him the box.

"And done," said Tyback tossing Tyson a smaller jar. Ashanti had begun sending him small jars along with the regular liter sized ones when she realized he could use the smaller ones for barter.

"That's the second package this week," said Tyson spreading some peanut butter on a cookie and popping it in his mouth.

"She likes you, you know," Tyson added. "Damn, I need some milk."

"Of course, why would someone who disliked me send me peanut butter?" Asked Tyback stuffing his mouth with a spoonful of peanut butter. His role model Spock had suggested eating at night when no one was watching. Tyback thought that was highly illogical. And his fellow human recruits didn't find it at all strange once he explained the problem of his hyper Vulcan metabolism.

Tyson stared at him. "No...she likes you..."

Tyback stared back.

"Cadet Ashanti wants you, man."

'Like' was ambiguous, but 'want'...Tyback had picked up enough slang in the mens' barracks to understand what had just been said. It was not an unwelcome revelation. But he hoped that want meant more than what passed for intimate relationships among the majority of his human comrades. Humans could be so nonchalant in their sexual escapades. Death tended to focus ones mind a bit more.

Popping another spoonful of peanut butter in his mouth he reached tentatively for the letter. Cadets in basic training weren't allowed electronic transmissions, but 'snail mail' was allowed...a curious idiom as the letters weren't actually delivered by snails.

He opened the letter and a two dimensional picture fluttered to the ground. He picked it up...it was Ashanti wearing some sort of traditional South East Indian attire that exposed a soft smooth bare midriff. Her skin was exactly the color of chocolate, the one food he wouldn't indulge in despite an over developed sense of curiosity. She was smiling. He noted her wide eyes, high cheek bones, small nose with a dainty gold stud in it and a very wide symmetrical smile.

It wasn't apparent from the picture, but Ashanti was nearly 1.8288 meters tall...just five centimeters shorter than Tyback. And she had wonderfully full shoulders from being on the Academy swim team. Tyback suspected she was much stronger than your typical human female. That could be quite an advantage...he hadn't let himself have any expectations before, but if what Tyson was saying was true...

Tyson hopped from his bunk.

"Oooooo....she's hot. Let me see...sharing is caring..." Tyson exclaimed reaching out a hand from over Tyback's shoulder. Next to cigarettes and food pictures of human females were quite a commodity in the barracks...actually, they might come before food and cigarettes. Of course the pictures that were deemed the most valuable tended to have human females in much more revealing dress and positions. Still, her midriff was exposed and Tyson did apparently find her "hot".

Catching Tyson's wrist in midair Tyback slipped the picture into his pocket. He looked Tyson directly in the eye. "No."

He realized what the humans around him did at night under cover of darkness. He understood it was a natural part of their biology, and he was open minded...but...the thought of them even thinking about Ashanti while doing so...especially if she liked him...

"Ummm...could you let go of my wrist now?" asked Tyson.

Tyback let go, but kept his eyes on Tyson...just in case.

"Sheesh...Vulcans sure are territorial," Tyson said massaging his wrist and heading back to his bunk.

Tyback blinked. "Of course we are territorial. Violently so. Why would you ever think otherwise?"

A/N:

Tyback is a special sort of Vulcan. He appears in Chapter 63 of Descartes...this is just another little snippet showing why the Vulcan Interspecies Council would not like him...I don't think Spock would be pleased if he knew either...

Still writing Descartes, but I have to be very careful in the last couple of chapters...so I'm using a beta reader now. More is coming...I promise.