Logical progression ...

[T'aral 0]

It was four hours into the second shift, 'evening' as the ship's crew reckoned time. T'Aral had finished tending to various injuries sustained by crewmembers from their encounter with the Comanche Creek. She was tired; a rare state for Vulcans, but one she was becoming more and more familiar with.

 

The Hard Six was limited when it came to crew space and resources. Put more simply, the Captain couldn't afford a medical staff - spending just enough for a highly trained Vulcan nurse who worked cheap. It was a place for T'Aral to attempt to lose herself, except that there was one problem - while evading the galaxy was possible, it was rather a difficult matter to run away from yourself.

 

Steln was dead.

 

The thought intruded on T'Aral's mind again. Steln was a fine Vulcan, and an exceptional mind by any standard. He was an idealist with a dedicated soul, and a Syrrannite; one of the few remaining. The Empire was brutal in the initial subjugation of Vulcan, and although the logic of Vulcan allowed for the race as a whole to co-operate with the Empire there were still those who held to the philosophies of peace and co-operating with other races rather than subjugating them. It was unfortunate, as there was never room in the Vulcan mind for compromise. Vulcans either believed in the logic of serving the Empire or the logic of opposing them -there was no middle ground to be had.

 

Steln was dead.

 

T'Aral was an abnormality among Vulcans - she was not entirely sure where she stood on the matter of the Empire. Unlike others, she followed the logic of the moment: proceeding as she had based on whatever was logical at the moment. She could not predict the future, so it seemed illogical to align her views one way or the other: simply respond to whatever situation she was in logically. There was no path, however, and that is why T'Aral didn't end up serving as an officer of the Empire or as a Syrrannite rebel - she was simply adrift, an attendant on a merchant ship.

 

Steln was dead.

 

She served as best as she could, moving from case to case without comment or critique. Yet there was a growing disturbance inside her ever since she received the news of Steln's death. There were fixed things in T'Aral's life: Vulcan, Mount Seleya, and Steln - these were the pillars of T'Aral's life. Now one was gone, and she was beginning to dearly miss the others. Homesickness was illogical, yet like so many things it didn't have to be logical in order to be very real.

 

Stepping over to a small crate in the back of her room, T'Aral pushed a small panel which revealed a book of bound parchments. It was Steln's last gift to her: a complete transcript of the Writings of Surak - he often commented that these would open her eyes and give her the one thing T'Aral never had in all her life; purpose.

 

Steln was dead, Vulcan was light-years away, and Mount Seleya was a memory that she would probably never see again. T'Aral opened the pages and read; perhaps there was something still left for her to hold on to.