Chapter 19 - Examination

Spock was bodily present in his morning classes. He sat dutifully at the second to highest long narrow table with his half broken padd beside him running computations. He took notes on the lectures while simultaneously working on his report, listing assumptions he'd made on the models. He had difficulty putting words to some of the assumptions. He wanted to sound knowledgeable, but was not and attempting to be would be illogical. He put his emotions aside. Found it both easier and harder to do so because he'd already invested a great in this project, including injury. He listed everything, positive and negative, logically, coldly. With his limitations so baldly laid out it was impossible to assure that the models had any validity at all.

During the hour and a half of Astronomy, Spock completed the second simulation based on the straight-line trial run data. Fortunately, the first model applied to this new data with only minor modifications. He noted in his disorganized list that this was in small support of its possible rigorousness. Optimally, he would attempt to predict the engine frame's behavior during broader circumstances and then verify against additional empirical data.

In the half hour before Chanel's class Spock sat on the floor three meters from the door to the Starfleet Annex and organized his lists of notes. Four minutes and twelve seconds before it was due, Spock submitted his mid-term assignment in Advanced Ship Design. As he took a seat in the very back of the classroom, waiting for Captain Chanel to finish speaking with students, he submitted a copy to Commander Absom as an excuse to again express gratitude for his obtaining the data and passing it along. He was very grateful, and he was not accustomed to relying on favors this way.

At the other end of the row, Jaek and Horton were arguing in low tones over some aspect of their now separate but still overlapping projects. They had some inconsistency of belief regarding social behavior of second generation ship occupants. The issue sounded minor, but the need to be correct and believed extremely important.

"Very well," Chanel announced from the front dais. "Everyone who still has issues, sit down and let me recover from my acute disappointment in you."

Bodies shuffled into their seats, turned forward.

"In the next two weeks after I mentally bounce back from looking these over, we'll start the final projects, which will be group." She looked over the room. "Groups I may assign in some cases. If not all cases. Like the real world. Right kids?"

"I get twenty minutes of comm time about every 48 hours." Kirk's low-lit face emerged from a small dark cabin with walls the gray-blue of Spock's Academy uniform.

"Shall I purchase more time?"

"Can't. It's a fast transport, and not the luxury kind. It's stripped bare. That's all they'll allocate per passenger." He looked around himself. "I've seen escape pods larger than these quarters. Did you get your report into a state you were pleased enough with?"

"Perhaps."

Kirk smiled affectionately. "It's good to identify when you are incapable of being objective."

Spock raised a brow. "I hadn't thought of it that way. But 'perhaps.' Again."

"I'm glad you're challenged."

Spock watched Kirk's face as it moved between sedate, charming, and pleased. Emotions threatened Spock, and he resisted putting them aside. It seemed disloyal to do so without at least examining them, let alone experiencing them briefly.

Neither of them spoke for nearly a minute of their spare allotted thirty.

"You were not specific about your transport beyond the station," Spock said.

Kirk rubbed the back of his head. "I can't be."

"Understood."

"I'll be reduced to messages after this leg, for the most part. I'll get leave every few months. We can talk directly then. When you're available."

Spock looked down, paged through the emotions that seemed to be piling up. Nodded.

"You have brunch with your father tomorrow? That's going well, you said. And then mid-terms this upcoming week."

"Yes."

"Good luck with those."

Spock didn't want to complain about being wished luck. His logic had gone absent.

"If you want the luck," Kirk said, voice a caress.

"I do."

Kirk didn't smile, he frowned in a way that implied he was overwhelmed. He lifted his chin, eyes shining. "My Vulcan."

Spock sat steeped in myriad emotions, too many to find any expression on his face.

"Tell me about how your report turned out."

Spock thought this an illogical use of their time, but a few minutes in, decided it didn't matter what the topic was, just that there was interaction.

Spock tapped out the answer to question ten of his Propulsion mid-term examination. Question eleven asked him to compute the internal bending moments and oscillating inertial forces on a generic model of an engine in a Challenger Class starship. Spock's head filled with possible models he could apply, some standard, some experimental. He cleared these ideas and recalled the simplified models he'd been taught in this class, models intended to teach the basics, not intended to support actual engineering. He used one of those, repeated the computation with one of the experimental models. Found the result rather different, added the second result as a side note in the work space area of the answer.

Leadership mid-terms involved viewing simulations of interactions that paused frequently and asked which theories could be best applied right then and why, then went on to ask about likely previous failures that had led to the current situation. One simulation involved six crew and a lieutenant where the crew lacked motivation. Spock again felt he needed to simplify his approach. Nearly every theory impacted motivation, but only certain ones focused on motivation. He applied those, mentioned others, deleted the others. Listing everything would undoubtedly appear indecisive. On that thought, he pared his answer down to the two best ones and went to the next question.

The next simulation involved long simmering resentment of one ensign for another in another department. Spock could request more background on the difficulty by questioning the simulation's characters, but that was going to be time consuming. Around him the other students were answering, moving on. Spock estimated he was going to run out of time if he did not answer faster. Kirk seemed to lead through instinct and hyper-awareness of others while appearing uninvolved, along with brutal self-critique. Spock did not have much hope for copying his methods except for that latter, which he was caught in right then.

Beside him, P'Losiwst answered each prompt with sharp, confident taps of her narrow blue fingers. Her posture indicated competitive excitement tinted with aggression. He had never asked her for help in this class. Perhaps he should do so.

Lt. Grange strode the pre-dawn corridors of Starfleet Academy on Friday morning. He liked this hour, when only a few intrepid, overly eager-to-please souls were out and about. It was the part of the term when he took the middle of the day off to concentrate his attention on the more likely to be unsupervised early morning and late night hours.

Grange passed the main lobby, bright even at this hour due to the giant ray collector shape of the full height windows on the front. A senior cadet who seemed to be not so much up early as coming in late, blinked blearily at something beyond Grange's right shoulder. Grange turned, found a middle aged Vulcan standing at the threshold of the lobby tower, hands clasped at chest height in front of great robes that fell in heavy layers around him. He stared up at the naturally glowing architecture, studied it with patient interest.

The figure lowered his gaze and locked eyes with Grange in an unmistakable demonstration of a sixth sense.

Grange strode toward him with his best official air. "I'm Lieutenant Grange of Student Services, can I assist you?"

"I am Ambassador Sarek, Vulcan ambassador to the Federation. I was intending to look around. If that is allowed."

Unlike most beings, this one didn't look over the skin of Grange's face and baldly wonder why it was still imperfect. Grange nodded primly. "The main office will be opening in half an hour. Did you make arrangements for a visit?"

"I did not. I expressly do not want a show. I simply wish to observe."

Grange relaxed. "I understand. The main office only has two modes, prospective student or dignitary. I can show you around the main areas. Unless we have an emergency, I have some time."

Sarek bowed faintly. "I would appreciate the expense of your time and effort, Lieutenant."

The increasing sun through the windows was turning the inner side of the lobby tower into a giant field of light rays. Grange led the way out of the lobby and through the darkened auditoriums with their projector daises and AI support, intending to take a pass by the labs on the far side of the main building and then see what interested his party from there.

They stalled in the corridor of 3D projections of final projects. Sarek stopped at every one for at least for a minute or two. Grange dampened his impatience. This corridor was likely a more accurate representation of the Academy than the architecture and vague handwaving about what happened in each space of the building.

They both stood listening to a talk on radial measurement using probe array data. Spock had selected most of these for inclusion, and after reviewing two or three, Grange had simply let him put up whatever he wanted.

"Interesting." Sarek turned his whole body to indicate his attention had shifted back to Grange. "We may continue."

"I don't have a standard tour, by any means."

Sarek spoke slow and deliberately. "In that case, you will most definitely be optimal for this task."

They finished touring the public side of the labs and the simulators and came back around to the central area. The seating in the student hub now contained a scattering of students working in groups or studying alone. Sarek surveyed each with his intent gaze. Grange used his practiced eye to watch for trouble that might mar his tour.

"This week was mid-terms," Grange said. "Lots of examinations covering ten weeks of material, and at the same time projects were due, so it's quiet as students sleep in a little. It will be parade day this afternoon on the front plaza if you have any interest in that."

Again, Sarek turned his whole body to face Grange. "I am aware. I am also aware that your academy computes a ranking of students in each year at this time."

Grange now wondered if this impromptu tour wasn't related to Spock, an assumption he'd not bothered to make before now, given this Vulcan was an official and officials came through regularly as part of seeing all the sites related to Starfleet.

"It's being computed and audited this morning, in fact. As, maybe you are also aware." Grange pulled his padd out of his belt pouch. "I can check if it's been posted. Just the top ten from each class are made public. Not the full list."

Grange found the posting, just minutes old, on the administrative office feed. Spock wasn't on it. He held the padd out.

Grange didn't get any impression from Sarek's stony face as his eyes flicked down the list. Grange took the padd back, kept it out. His normally dormant curiosity was getting the better of him. He could pull Spock's record up right then, but held off.

"Is anything amiss?" Grange asked his visitor.

This brought up one brow. "No."

"What can I show you next? Would you like to visit administration? They are likely open now."

More students arrived, got coffees, were evaluated by the visitor without expression.

"How much interaction do you have with the students, Lieutenant?" Sarek asked.

"Depends on the student. Some do some work for me. Some get into trouble a lot." Grange paused. "Some do a bit of both because working for me is punishment."

Sarek turned only his head this time, expressed a bit more interest in Grange himself, re-evaluated his eyes, his collar and the markings on it.

"Are you familiar with the first year student Spock?"

"Yes, of course. He's in trouble with me a lot."

The visitor was jarred an iota before going neutral again. Bingo, Grange thought.

"You don't seem like the sort of human to use humor in such a circumstance," Sarek said.

"Because I'm not. I assume you are related to Spock?"

"Yes. I would have assumed you knew that."

"Just so we're clear. I don't read any student's records, Ambassador."

"That must make your job most difficult." Heat came along with this. The heat Grange was sure Spock was going to be facing later.

"On the contrary, it makes it much easier." Grange led the visitor away from the students and toward the small atrium which was open but shielded against wind and rain by force fields above. "Students come here to find out who they can be, not who they already are."

They passed a group of students walking slowly all sharing a single padd held up before them as if leading them. When they were out of sight, Grange said, "I make it a personal policy to have no assumptions about who a student was before or, in the case of most official records, who someone from their past mistakenly believed them to be. In this vein, if someone comes to me six months after a problem and seem to be someone new, I am more than willing to start again."

They stopped in the middle of the high atrium. Narrow canals flowed with water, bamboo and tassled water plants formed screens between benches.

"I manage students with this seemingly liberal openness by being an ass from day one," Grange said. "Leaves me a lot of room to show very small increments of approval that are still borderline obnoxious."

Sarek turned with a soft brushing sound of his shoes, peered at Grange. "And what sort of trouble is Spock causing?"

"The conniving kind. Of which I approve." He paused to let his visitor take that in. "Spock isn't like most other first year cadets. He is utterly unintimidated."

Except, Grange thought, that one time when dealing with his father nearly broke him down.

Grange said, "And Spock is unbelievably bright. And his presence is a blessing. He learns about our human systems by poking at them sharply to see how they react. And the systems in turn learn as well."

This brought up an angled brow.

"Spock just being here is forcing staff and old guard line officers to think harder about what we are."

"Are you the old guard, Lieutenant?"

"No. Not quite yet."

Sarek stared down the aisle that led fully outside to the abstractly shaped areas between buildings. "How do I learn Spock's ranking?"

"You'll have to strong arm administration. Or ask Spock."

Sarek nodded. He turned to look back the way they had come, indicating he was through here, if not through with Grange.

"I don't have favorite students, Ambassador," Grange said. "I have less favorite students and even less favorite students. But Spock is a favorite student."

Sarek raised his chin. "I assume you are making a point by utilizing a logical fallacy."

Grange had to keep down a smile. "Of course."

Sarek held his gaze, nodded. "My gratitude for the tour, Lieutenant."

"Want me to take you to the offices?"

"I know where they are." He bowed slightly, stiffly.

Grange watched the robed figure stride away, flinched for no good reason.